#I'm full of vodka and dead

[teenytinyjimin]

i miss you, i’m sorry (j. jungkook)

nothing happened in the way i wanted

every corner of this house is haunted

and i know you said that we’re not talking

but i miss you, i’m sorry.

summary: the first time seeing each other after the breakup is always the hardest. but seeing each other when you're still in love? an absolute nightmare

pairing: jungkook x reader

word count: 2k

tags: angst, smoker!jk, brokenhearted!jk, equally as brokenhearted!reader, why did they even break up in the first place?, featuring reader’s bestfriend!jimin, also jimin is sexually ambiguous let's keep it that way please

warnings: none, alcohol/nic use but nothing too intense, kinda sad but it's a happy ending i promise

author’s note: idk why i keep making my fic names and stuff inspired by songs, i guess it just helps me beat writers block.

also i wrote this in second person, lmk if you guys prefer that over third. i personally find third person fics easier to write, but i'm sure second person is easier to read for some of you. enjoy my angels!

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──

Bars weren't really your thing.

If you were going to be honest, they were miles better than nightclubs, but still not your thing. It was something about the air that just rubbed you the wrong way. Perhaps it was all the creepy old men that turned you off of them, or just the fact that there's not much to do besides sit, drink, sit some more, maybe play some pool and... sit.

Jimin, on the other hand, loved bars. He loved being able to sit there, look pretty, and watch as absolutely anyone and everyone flocked over to him to start a conversation. It admittedly fueled his ego, and he loved the feeling of being the center of attention. However, he didn't love being at bars alone. Being so drop-dead gorgeous meant that about twenty times the amount of creeps bothered him than the average bar patron. Many of them figured that a pretty boy like him was sitting there waiting to be swooped up by a sugar daddy. Let's get one thing straight – that wasn't him. He had plenty of money. He just wanted to have a little conversation, give a little kiss here and there maybe, and dip at the end of the night with his bar companion by his side.

Unfortunately for you, that bar companion was usually you. It was certainly a compliment for Jimin to want to bring you along with him instead of any of his other gazillions of friends and other social connections, but it was quite exhausting for you to be in a bar pretty much every day of every weekend. He liked the attention, but you didn't. If it were an empty room with nothing but you and a bottle of rum, you'd have a blast. But what bar in Itaewon was going to be like that?

Alas, here you were, sat at the end of a bar with your friend sitting next to you. Something about the light in the building made him look extra beautiful tonight, his skin shimmering like the most precious of diamonds and his eyes deep and full of allure. At the moment he was making small talk with a lady on the other side of him, one who was definitely at least twenty years his senior but didn't look a day past thirty. Sighing, you drop your head down to look at your drink, a half-full martini glass that held a rather disappointing cosmopolitan (you weren't a vodka fan anyway, it wasn't the bartender's fault).

You wanted to be home. That was the only place you ever wanted to be these days. At home, cuddling your darling kitty in bed, and sleeping your days away. Maybe a year ago you would have loved being out and about, but now it feels more like a burden than a fun activity. And you know that Jimin doesn't mean any harm in doing what he does, but seeing him talk with so many people over the course of the night and being so happy is almost a bit gut-wrenching for you because you can't be as happy as him.

You began to feel the blood rush to your ears and your face get warm. Something was wrong, you could sense it. Everyone has those gut instincts when something isn't quite right, and this wasn't just an instinct, it was like a neon sign. A neon sign that read DANGER. Perhaps it was just you feeling rather anxious and overwhelmed, but either way you were craving the comfort of your home.

"Hey, 'Minnie, can we-" Just as you turned to Jimin to softly ask him if you could go home or at the very least switch bars, you felt a presence behind you. It wasn't just an I'm here to order a drink presence, but rather an I'm here for you one. Realizing that Jimin wasn't even listening anyway, you froze, waiting to see what would happen. And that's when you heard a familiar voice that you thought you'd never hear again.

"Hey."

You didn't want to turn around. You tried to stay as still as a statuette for as long as possible, however the more you thought about the man behind you the more you felt the urge to turn around and take a bite of the forbidden fruit. Taking a deep breath, you slowly turned until you were face-to-face with your ex, Jungkook.

"Want to talk outside?" Not yet looking at him directly, you hesitantly nodded before quickly looking back to Jimin and then standing up. You left your purse there, figuring that your friend would grab it if he changed locations, and began trailing after the tall tattooed figure that navigated his way toward the door.

As the two of you stepped out into the cool autumn air, you crossed your arms and leaned against the building. Your heart was between your ears at this point, buzzing at what felt like 200 beats a minute. It was stupid for you to have even left Jimin's side, you thought, because now you were alone with your ex of all people and God knows what this boy has up his sleeve.

"You look good," Jungkook said gently as he pulled out a pack of cigarettes and placed one between his lips. "And I know what you're going to say, you're so full of it Kook, but I mean it."

"Since when have you started smoking?" You asked, ignoring his previous two statements and gesturing toward the pack in his hand. He shrugged. "Couple weeks after I last saw you maybe? Not a big deal."

"You know that stuff's bad for you."

"I don't think sitting here third-wheeling with Jimin and his beau of the night is any better."

"You don't know Jimin, don't act like you do," You said, completely taken aback and offended by the words coming out of his mouth. "And I'm having a good time, thank you very much."

"Doesn't seem like it. Weren't you about to ask him if you guys could leave?"

"I was having- What?- Is there a reason you asked to talk to me out here?" You were struggling to form a complete sentence. This man always knew how to leave you speechless, but now it was just irritating. You watched as Jungkook leaned back onto the building with you and shook his head, giving you a toothy grin before lighting the cigarette in his mouth. "Nah. Just figured you'd have more fun out here talking to me and getting a break from it all."

"You know he's waiting for me, right? I should go back inside." You stand back up straight and begin walking back into the bar, however you feel a warm hand wrap gently around your wrist and tug you back. "Hey hey hey," Jungkook called. "He'll survive a few minutes without you. Just chill with me. I'm not asking you for anything, just a second of your time."

You turned to face your ex-lover, your eyes finally meeting his for the first time that night. Even after all this time of being apart, those beautiful doe eyes still yearned for you, and yours for him. With a shaky sigh, you brush his hand away and return to where you were standing. "Exes don't hang out like this, Jungkook."

"Woah, you're pulling out the full government name on me now?" The boy teased, puffing a cloud of smoke from his mouth. "Should I be offended?"

"I'm setting boundaries," You crossed your arms and kicked at the ground beneath you. "Nicknames are for friends or more than friends, which we aren't."

"We aren't strangers either though."

"That doesn't matter. Not friends."

"Alright, fine," Giving up, Jungkook looked down at his hand and flexed it awkwardly. "Just trying to be friendly."

"Friendly?!" You said frantically, finally having enough of his antics. "You don't need to be friendly. We broke up and that's the end of it. Exes aren't friends. They go their separate ways and when they see each other again – if they see each other – they ignore each other. I don't get why you're doing this psychological warfare bullshit on me."

"Exes can be friends," He breathed out in protest. "Can you even tell me why we broke up in the first place?"

You remained silent. The truth was that you didn't know why you broke up either. It had been almost a year since the whole ordeal went down, and you were still confused more than anything else, even more than you were hurt. All you can remember is that you guys went through some bullshit ‘mutual breakup’ that apparently neither of you wanted in the first place. The only reason you even agreed to it is because somewhere within you, you felt like perhaps you weren’t deserving of such a wonderful relationship. And the only reason Jungkook agreed to it is because he thought that it’s what you wanted.

"No, seriously. What went wrong? What did I do? I just want some closure..." His voice became increasingly softer as he kept speaking, which only meant one thing. You stared at the ground intensely, refusing to look up and see his teary eyes.

You felt his hand gently wrap around yours and tug on it as a plea for your attention. Jungkook was your weakness, the only person you'd willingly do anything for, and he really loved to take advantage of that without even realizing he was.

You peered up at him hesitantly, worried that you'd find yourself in tears the second you saw the ones pouring from his eyes. Sure enough, when the eye contact began, you were driving yourself forward into his strong arms and dampening his shirt with your tears.

Jungkook's embrace felt the same as it did the last time you felt it. It was still so warm, so inviting, so loving. Never once did you feel unsafe in his arms and this moment was not an exception. As you sobbed into his shirt you felt his hand move from around your waist to the top of your head, stroking your hair gently.

The two of you stood there for what seemed like hours, simply letting all emotion out while enjoying the company of one another. While Jungkook has been exceptionally transparent in expressing the fact that he's heartbroken about the situation between the two of you, it's safe to say that you feel equally as devastated. This man was once the love of your life and the only one you ever needed, but now everything about him except for his embrace feels foreign. This was someone you once saw yourself building a life with, but now it's shattering to think that he has a life after you.

You pulled away after a while, refusing to make eye contact as you wiped the tears from your eyes. This all felt entirely pointless. It was obvious that nothing went wrong in the relationship yet here you were, no longer in one. You couldn't begin to imagine what Jungkook had been going through since you guys broke up considering the fact that for you, your entire world turned upside down.

"I'm sorry," You managed to choke out before you felt Jungkook's hand gently guide your face up to look at his. You watched him stare at you for a moment, taking in your features, before his lips began to curl into a soft smile. "Mmm. Yeah. You're way too pretty to let slip through my fingers."

Feeling your face turn hot as a blush crept to your cheeks, you let out a soft giggle before you were cut off by a familiar pair of lips meeting yours.

"JUNGKOOK?" You heard a voice call out. The two of you pulled apart, eyes wide. Shit. You forgot about Jimin.

#teenytinyjimin #bangtan #bts fanfic #bts angst #bts fanfiction #bts fic #angst #bts jungkook #bts jk #jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook #jungkook angst #jk angst #jungkook x reader #jk x reader #fanfic #jk fanfic

[konigsblog]

Serious question, out of all the COD guys who do u think would cheat on their girlfriends/wives?

CW: NON-CON ELEMENTS, CHEATING, NARCISSISM/GOD COMPLEX. DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT – KÖNIG X F!READER

i'm gonna say könig, and it pains me to see him as a cheater, but i view könig to be almost narcissistic, becoming verbally abusive when he doesn't get what he wants.

he won't hesitate to use threats, threatening things such as, your relationship – that he'll get sex from someone else if you don't give in to his repulsive, sickening desires - that he'll find someone that can please and satisfy his depraved fantasies.

and although a part of könig deep down doesn't want to do this to his wife, he thinks with his cock, instead of his brain – thinking about how satisfied he'd be, so selfish when it comes to his fantasies.

he knows you're probably in pain, at the scent of cheap perfume on his marked neck, or the sight of him looking dishevelled when he comes home to you, tipsy and a mess, with lipstick stains along his collar, the crimson smeared across the white material. könig can see the sadness in your glossy eyes, the wetness on your cheeks as he caresses your face, cupping your jaw and pleading with you to not abandon him.

of course, he'll lie, tell you he was drunk – that if he was sober, he wouldn't dare lay a finger on another woman like he'd just done.

despite his desperate pleas and drunken lies, you see right past him. you're not stupid, nor going to fall for his useless attempts at fixing the situation. you knew all about his filthy thoughts, how he was desperate to re-enact them with someone. it was a complete lie he'd told you, and seeing him lie without hesitation, straight to your sobbing face, was enough for poor, little you.

due to könig's narcissism, he can't fathom how you'd ever think of leaving him – he could barely understand why you were so infuriated and mortified by his perverse actions, i mean, you're not that important in comparison to someone like könig – you had it coming, it was your fault, regardless of what he'd done.

könig likes to believe he's the most important thing ever created, the spitting image of a god, almost. that his disturbed desires should be fulfilled, without protests against it or struggles against his filthy, grimey hands.

the topic of divorce is always shut down – you're constantly silenced. your attempts at expressing your opinion are fruitless, ignored and blown off as könig lazily pours himself another shot of vodka with a grin curling the sides of his mouth, getting drunk rather than focusing on the stress and worries he's caused to his once beloved wife.

he'll try to convince you that he still adores you, as if that'll make you feel any better. in his drunken state, he's full of himself and believes you're just upset because you're insecure – or that you're jealous, fearing you'll be replaced. although, that's not your concern – your concern is his disloyalty and his betrayal of trust.

könig has been with you long enough where you know every little thing about him; his childhood, trauma, or his disturbing and frightening thoughts. he'd have to keep you for himself.

divorce isn't an option, schatzchen...

#orla speaks #konig x you #konig x reader #konig x y/n #könig x you #könig x reader #könig x y/n #könig cod #könig call of duty #konig smut #könig smut #könig headcanons #konig hcs #konig headcanons #tw: cheating #tw: non con #tw: dark content #dead dove do not eat #dead dove fic

[bruciemilf]

,,,, russian bruce wayne

Russian Bruce Wayne

RUSSIAN BRUCE WAYNE -

Listen. Listen. Not fully compacted into something coherent, but I'll do my best, because this idea has been haunting me, -

SO he's russian on his mother's side!! Martha Wayne immigrated in America when she was a teenager, nothing to her name but hope in her chest and her mother's pearl necklace in her pocket

She always got ugly looks for speaking in her native language and her accent. Slowly, it melted into something perfectly English, but she still spoke Russian at home and especially to Bruce

Little Bruce loved Baba Yaga as a kid and dressed like her for Halloween every single year; Nobody really understood it, but a glare from Alfred was enough to fill a bag full of candy

Martha and Bruce would talk shit in front of Thomas' faux philanthropist friends, but they were on wildly different spectrums

Martha, whispering: You see that man, Brucie? He sold his soul to greed. He's a worm of a human and his morals are rotten. That's why his eyes are dead

Bruce: haha, he's balding at 25

Martha, Alfred, and Bruce cooking beef stroganoff, syriniki, borscht, and Bruce's absolute favorite- pirozhki.

Martha also played the piano and LOVED Swan Lake so, so much. It was the one song that calmed Bruce during night terrors.

When he reaches eight, it all stops.

He eventually reconnects with his Russian roots in his 20s, when he's in college and his literature teacher shares a DISRESPECTFULLY incorrect opinion about one of Dostoevsky's works.

His teacher scoffed, " Well. Didn't know we had a Russian citizen here. "

" Not a citizen, but I AM a Russian descendent. My mother was an immigrant. That's kind of how America was formed. It's a pretty significant thing that happened."

Imagine you're a Gotham criminal and Batman starts muttering things about you in Russian. Somehow that's even more intimidating than anything he does.

" I can't believe they're more afraid of someone who doesn't speak English than a guy who beats up people dressed as a bat."

Alfred hums, sloooowly pulling away the vodka cereal Bruce made. " I can't imagine why. You're the poster child for mental health, sir."

" Not funny, papachka"

" For you."

When Dick is brought into the nest, Bruce struggles a bit with showing his affections; He only has money to offer, but Dick is happily uninterested in that, and seeks Bruce out instead.

BRUCE ABSOLUTELY SPENDS AN ENTIRE NIGHT TRYING TO PERFECT HIS MOTHER'S BAKLAVA FOR DICK!!

yes he's supposed to be on patrol. No, he doesn't care, Jim. It's all worth it when Dick takes a single bite and he has stars in his eyes and vines his little but strong arms around him, " this is PERFECT! Thank you so much, dad"

Air freezes in his blood, " ... Of course, ptichka."

He absolutely uses russian proverbs all the time (mostly when his children need to be reprimanded and reminded that making jokes is illegal when they're on duty)

JASON AND BRUCE FIGHTING OVER TRANSLATIONS AND CONTEXT IN ENGLISH ADAPTATIONS OF SLAVIC LITERATURE!

" PAPI, THAT'S NOT WHAT THEY MEANT TO SAY!"

" MISKHA I'M SO GRATEFUL YOUR GRANDMA ISN'T HERE, BECAUSE SHE'D DIE AGAIN IF SHE HEARD YOU SAY THAT!"

Damian 100000% prides himself on knowing russian and communicating with Bruce the smoothest.

It becomes a competition soon enough. Bruce is SO tired but the way they butcher words is funny, so he just pretends they're right.

The League finds out when Bruce snaps and calls Hal Cyka in a low, angry mutter while stomping away from his stupidity. " ... Bless you? What did he call me?"

Diana, struggling so hard not to laugh. " He said you were a genius."

" Huh. Had no idea he was French."

Meanwhile Clark is losing HIS shit because wow, Bruce's russian might be the hottest thing he ever heard. Please, this dork would absolutely try to learn Russian and talk to Bruce more.

He's absolutely horrible with it but Bruce is just very excited. He definetly chuckles (which. Wow. Clark couldn't even make him GRIN 3 weeks ago) " You just asked me if I sleep with my dentist."

" ...Oh. I...Was trying to ask you for drinks. You can kill me right now. Please?"

" Maybe another time, solnyshko. Take me for a drink first."

Clark inhales. " oKaY thank yoU."

#he means everything to me #bruce wayne #the batman #batman #dc #dc comics #headcanons #writing #my writing #batkids #batfam #batfamily #dick grayson #jason todd #damian wayne #clark kent #superman #superbat #translations: ask google lmao #text #text post

[beachylupin]

I'm Not In Love || Remus Lupin x Muggle!Fem!Reader

i'm sorry for such the long wait everyone! but here it is! the heartbreak you've all been waiting for! i'm sorry if this is bad, but i didn't want a happy ending just yet. feedback is welcomed and appreciated! to preface: this part takes place at the very beginning of november here's part one and the moodboard word count: 3.8k warnings: mention of alcohol and cigarettes, swearing, descriptions of a panic attack, angst!!!!!!, reader is kind of an asshole, miscommunication, quickly edited

“I really don’t want to go,” you told Lily, hands on your cheeks as you rested your elbows on your kitchen island. “It’s actually like… the last thing I want to do with my time.”

“Please,” Lily begged from the other side of the counter, causing you to groan. “The whole Remus thing was a misunderstanding. He’s been very busy, but I know that he really wants to call you.”

Your head hit the table with a dull thud.

Busy? Remus hadn’t called you even though you gave him your number at Lily’s wedding a month ago. You genuinely thought he was interested, just as you were, and still are, but after the first month of dead silence, you got the message loud and clear. “Busy” wasn’t a very good excuse anymore. As far as you were concerned, he wanted nothing to do with you, and you couldn’t help but wonder why as you tried to forget about him.

Despite how many times James and Lily came to your flat or you went to their new one in that short time, Remus was rarely mentioned until now. Hell, you had seen more of Sirius than you had of him, and now two months after the wedding and a week before Sirius’s birthday, Lily hasn’t shut up about him.

“I’m not worried about the Remus thing,” you lied as you raised your head off the table, rubbing your forehead. “I’m worried about the wizard bar thing.”

That part wasn’t a lie. If a wizard wedding made you feel as self-conscious as ever, you couldn’t even imagine what a wizard bar would be like. They had different drinks with different effects, and you didn’t want to make an ass of yourself in front of someone who made you comfortable at said wedding then rejected you. You just wanted to fit in with a group of wizards, and you were already spiraling because of Remus’ apparent rejection. You had been rejected by other men before, sure, and while it hurt, this blow from Remus really threw you for a loop, causing a sour ache to start in the bottom of your chest whenever you thought about him. That meant the ache never really went away, but it lessened when you were busy with work or studying. You didn’t know if you could handle not being accepted by a whole friend group.

“It’s not at a wizard bar,” Lily huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’ve told you at least twenty times that it’s at the pub right down the road from your complex.”

“Oh, weird,” you said, definitely remembering, but you scrunch your nose anyway, pretending to rack your brain. “I would’ve remembered that, but it’s like… I don’t want to go or something.”

“You’re insufferable.” Lily met your glare with one of her own. “You know I could just lead Remus to your flat, right?”

“You wouldn’t do that,” you challenged, and Lily only smiled. “Lils, please. The wedding was with him was fine, but if he liked me, he would’ve called-”

“Remus wouldn’t just call,” she huffed, crossing her arms. “He’s much more romantic than that.”

“Well, I sure haven’t seen any of it, have I?” You grumbled back. “I’m not going.”

Lily went back to whining, a pout replacing her scowl. “Come on. Sirius would love-”

You began to lie, “I don’t know Sirius-”

“Just show up!” She snapped, raising her eyebrows. “Say it was a coincidence.” You groaned, and Lily grabbed your hands. “I’ll buy you as many vodka crans as you can drink, and you can hang out with the girls and I.”

“Lily-”

“Please,” she said, squeezing your hands. Lily looked so hopeful, her green eyes full of optimism. She knew it would break your heart to say no as she batted her lashes. “Please.”

“Fine,” you grumbled, and Lily squealed, rounding the island to pull your head into her chest in a squishy hug. You threw your arms around her to stabilize yourself on the stool, but she took it as a sign to squeeze harder, rocking you from side to side. “You’re a fucking menace.”

“I promise you it’s going to be so fun!” She cooed, pressing an enthusiastic kiss to the crown of your head before she gasped. “We have to pick you out an outfit!”

The next week was filled with near mental anguish. While you mentally prepared to see Remus again, you fully convinced yourself that he rejected you. He rejected you.

Could it be because you weren’t pretty enough? Or maybe you weren’t interesting enough. You had a sinking feeling it was because you weren’t like him. You couldn’t do anything he could do, and, in fact, you had to work much harder for things than he did. That’s fine, you reminded yourself.

You had to make yourself okay with this. You constantly told yourself that it was okay that he didn’t like you even though he was all you ever thought about. It’s not as though you knew each other. You had met once, you kept telling yourself. It wasn’t that deep. It was just a fun little crush that you had at a wedding. You weren’t in love. It’s fine.

You told yourself that he wasn’t busy. Remus just didn’t want you. That’s why he didn’t call. You weren’t enough for him, and you just had to accept that fact before you had to face him again to avoid any of the awkwardness.

It was going to have to be fine. You were going to have to act like everything was fine.

You arrived late to the party on purpose, busy pacing your flat and preening yourself in every mirror you passed. Nervousness made its home in your belly, anchoring itself by winding its way through your muscles and nerves. You could feel yourself flush scarlet as you doused yourself in perfume for the last time before you absolutely had to go.

You left your complex at a quarter to ten even though Lily told you to be there at nine sharp. Your heeled boots that Lily made you wear clicked on the pavement as you walked as slow as possible to the pub. Catching the reflection of yourself as you passed a darkened store front, you sighed.

You had on a black leather blazer, covering the sheer black tights, a black mini-skirt, and the white, lacy blouse you were wearing. You curled your hair, per Lily’s request, and darkened your lips with a wine-colored lipstick, matching it with a basic, brown eye. She said you were going to look “so in.”

You leaned toward the window, fixing your earring in the glass as you contemplated going home.

“Say it was a coincidence!” Lily’s words rang in your head as you fixed your other earring.

“A coincidence,” you mumbled to yourself. “A funny coincidence.”

You stepped away from the window, huffing to yourself as you set off toward the pub again, spotting it on the next street corner. Rehearsing what you’d say to everyone quietly to yourself, you finally reached the pub door.

Throwing your head back, praying a silent prayer, you entered the busy pub, bee-lining to the bar as if you weren’t expecting to see anyone that you knew. Taking a seat, you ordered a manhattan, scooching yourself closer to the bar.

In all reality, you spotted them right away, the girls were in the small crowd in front of the DJ and the boys, dressed as posh as ever, were around a small table, talking loudly. You knew Lily spotted you too, but you didn’t want to find out who else saw you, or even worse, who she told.

Your drink came with a grin from the bartender as you slipped off your coat, placing it underneath you. You silently thanked him then fished out the cherry at the bottom of the glass, popping it in your mouth and sucking it dry from the whiskey that it had absorbed.

You picked up the glass then turned around on your stool, scanning the crowd.

“... a coincidence!” Lily’s words echoed again. 

You knew that at least Lily knew you were here, so there was no point in blatantly avoiding them. But what would you say? Your pre-planned conversation was gone. The nervousness wound its way up to your throat, forming a lump.

You took a sip of your cocktail as soon as you caught Lily staring at you from the dance floor. She turned around quickly, said something to Marlene, Mary, and Dorcas then walked away from them, a determined scowl on her face as she approached you.

“You’re late!” She hissed, pulling you into a hug. She reeked of vodka, her sour breath wafting into your face as she spoke again. “I said nine, and it’s ten!”

“I was nervous,” you mumbled, holding your drink out so that you could take the rest of it behind her back. “Sorry,” you said after you swallowed thickly.

Lily pulled away from you, her face still in a scowl. “I told you not to be!” She huffed, glancing over her shoulder. “The girls saw you as soon as you came in. You better put a smile on your face because they’re-” Lily’s whole demeanor changed as Mary’s hand met her shoulder. She smiled artificially, her lips pulling up to expose her teeth. “Look who I found!”

You sent your empty glass on the bar, mouth opening with faux surprise. “Oh my God!” You said, smiling widely. “I had no idea that you guys were going to be here!”

You hopped down from your stool, pulling each girl into a tight hug, squeezing them as long as necessary for them to believe that you were actually shocked.

“I was just coming to get a drink!” You gushed, glancing at Lily. “This is such a funny coincidence!”

“Come on, darlin’!” Marlene said, grabbing your coat and your hand. She beamed at Dorcas and Mary. “We haveta go show the boys who we found!”

“We really don’t-”

“Don’t worry, I’ll get you another drink,” Lily said, smiling sweetly. You could see right through it, knowing she was still slightly mad at you. “Vodka cran, right, love?”

You grit your teeth into a smile. “Right. Thanks, Lils.”

Marlene giggled as she pulled you toward the boys, Dorcas and Mary lagging behind. “Mary thinks she’s gonna hook up wit’ Sirius tonight,” she gushed in your ear drunkenly. “‘S never gonna happen, but poor Mary sure thinks so.” She snorted, now walking way too far ahead of you, dragging you along.

You looked at the group of boys she was pulling you toward, all of them engrossed in a conversation except for the one you were actually trying to avoid.

From your quick glance, you could tell Remus’ cheeks were flushed, and you didn’t want to know if it was because the heat seemed to have turned up about ten degrees since you had locked eyes, or if he was drunk. You decided it was the latter in an attempt to make yourself feel better, ignoring the acid that burned your chest.

“Look who ickle Lils found sittin’ at the bar all by her lonesome,” Marlene slurred as soon as you walked up to the boys.

You felt your mouth pull into a smile despite the hammering in your ears. “Hi,” you said, feeling your arm wave a small wave.

You felt as though you were having an out of body experience as James pulled you into a sweaty, beer-soaked hug, squeezing you, and passing you along to Sirius, who kissed your cheek with wet lips. 

“Happy birthday,” you mumbled as he pulled you into a hug, swearing he was sweating Jose Cuervo.

“I told you she was going to come!” Sirius ranted from behind your back. “Pretty girl can’t get enough of me!” He let go, his arm around your shoulder.

“Cat’s out of the bag,” you said, shrugging as he kissed your cheek once more.

“Someone’s more than excited to see you, doll,” he said near your ear, gently nudging you toward Remus.

You took your first real look at him. Remus hadn’t changed much except for the fact that he wasn’t leaning on a cane, and he had gotten his haircut, getting rid of the sun-bleached strands and leaving muddy brown in its place. You could tell he had been drinking by the way the sleeves on his white button-down were rolled up to his elbows, the top two buttons undone. You could see the outline of a box of cigarettes in the pocket of his black slacks.

He looked good. You could feel your face burn, trying to rub it away and playing it off like there was a fly buzzing around your head.

“Hiya,” you said, trying to be as nonchalant as possible as you pulled him into a one-armed hug around his middle.

He sniffed, moving his drink to his other hand as he squeezed your shoulder, mumbling, “Yeah, hi.”

The two of you separated almost instantly. Peter nodded a hello to you while James and Sirius exchanged looks. Marlene had turned around, loudly shouting at Mary and Dorcas who were on their way over.

Your gaze snapped to the ground as you swallowed thickly. The pep talk you gave yourself didn’t help at all.

“I’m going to head to the loo quick,” you said, glancing at James and Sirius. “I’ll be right back.”

Before anyone could protest or tell you that they were coming with you, you shot off toward the bathroom, trying not to break out into a full sprint.

You pushed the bathroom door open, entering a dingy stall and locking it behind yourself.

Sitting down on the surprisingly clean toilet, you let your head hit your hands with your elbows firmly planted on your knees.

“You’re fine,” you mumbled, sucking a breath into your reluctant lungs, pushing it out as you mumbled. “It’s fine.”

You recognized the panic as soon as you saw Remus in all of his glory. You pushed the heels of your palms into your eyes, trying to stop the inevitable tears. Breathing started to seem hard as you sucked another unwilling breath into your lungs.

Your week of talking yourself up hadn’t worked. It wasn’t just a crush. Love at first, or second, sight was real, and unfortunately, you seemed to be experiencing it. 

Your hands started to shake as you took in another breath. Standing, you opened the stall door, walking out to grip the sink and stare at yourself.

You looked fine albeit for the single tear that you swiped from your cheek, so why didn’t you feel fine.

“I’m fine. I'm having fun,” you told yourself quietly. “Just get a drink, a-and act normal. I’m not in love. I’m fine, and I’m here to have fun.”

I’m not in love. The bile rose in your throat as you thought that phrase over again. I’m not in love.

You cupped your hands under the faucet, taking a scoop of tap water into your mouth.

Just then, Lily peeked in, her eyebrows furrowed with worry.

“The lads say you ran off,” she said, clutching your elbow. “Are you alright?”

“This wasn’t a good idea,” you muttered to Lily, shutting off the water. “I feel like I’m going to throw up.”

“What?” Her eyebrows pinched together. “Is this about Remus?” You reluctantly nodded. “You’re fine, okay? He’s just awkward.”

“He wasn’t awkward at your wedding,” you mumbled.

“That’s news to me,” Lily scoffed. “You’re just overthinking.”

“I just really want to go-”

“Come on, you big worry wart,” Lily said, tucking you into her side. “Let’s go see the girls. They’re talking about Mary getting into Sirius’ pants.”

“Lily, please-”

“It’ll be fun, I promise,” she said, patting your shoulder.

“Lils-”

Despite your protest, Lily guided you out of the bathroom and over to the girls at the bar.

“-just so dreamy, right?” Mary cooed, her longing look thrown at Sirius. Lily snorted as Marlene scoffed.

“He’s not into you!” Dorcas groaned, her arm around Marlene’s waist. “He’s not going home with anyone, and I think you’d know that by now!”

“But I could convince him, right?” Mary asked redundantly, glancing at you. “Right?”

You shrugged. “I know nothing.”

Mary whined. “Oh, you’re no help.”

“If he wanted to shag ya, he woulda done it by now,” Marlene slurred, lightly punching Mary’s shoulder. “I would know.”

“Oh, shut up!” Mary huffed, punching her friend back. “That was five years ago-”

“Hey,” Remus said, approaching from behind you with a tight smile. The quiet chorus of girlish hellos answered him. He stopped next to you, specifically looking just at you. “Hi. Alright?”

You met his gaze and nodded quietly, “Yeah.”

The girls continued talking, ignoring his interruption. You tried to listen back to what they were saying, but Remus’ hand met your bicep in a gentle squeeze, pulling you away slightly.

“Can I talk to you?” He asked, lips close to your ear.

Your eyes met Lily’s for a fleeting second, a look of help me flashing in yours as Lily lightly shook her head.

“S-sure,” you mumbled, pulling away from him. You took a step away from the group, waiting for his explanation.

“We’re uh- we’re just going to go have a ciggy quick. Cheers ladies,” he said, and he grabbed your clammy hand, pulling you out of the pub.

You could just walk away. You could completely ignore him and just walk home. You wanted to, but your feet wouldn’t let you, planting you near the wall next to him.

Remus dropped your hand then lit his cigarette, leaning against the wall and blowing out smoke. He glanced at you, then looked down, obviously contemplating what he was going to say. “I- I’m sorry about um… About not calling you? I lost your number, and-”

You nodded, hardly hearing him over your heart pounding in your ears, puffing a small laugh through your nose. “I’ve never heard that one before-”

“It’s not like that,” Remus huffed over you.

You chuckled, feeling the panic in your chest crescendo as you removed yourself from the wall to pace in front of him, “I’ve been rejected before, Remus. It’s not that big a deal.”

“I never rejected-”

“It’s fine, okay?! It’s fine!” You laughed to yourself, your fingers meeting your temple with a dull rub as you stopped pacing. “This is exactly why I didn’t want to fucking come,” you muttered, turning toward the pub door.

“You didn’t want to come because- because of me?” Remus guawaffed, his eyebrows furrowed. “I didn’t reject you!”

“No, it’s fine.” Your fingertips met the bridge of your nose as you paused, trying to make yourself not cry. You huffed softly, facing him again. “Look, okay? I’m stupid, and I shouldn’t have ever given you my number, alright? Just forget about it, alright? It’s fine. I-I should’ve known that something like… like this-” you gestured between the two of you, your voice shaking. “-would never work.”

“Like what?” Remus’ cigarette was abandoned, the coal working its way slowly toward the filter.

“I like you,” you admitted, still looking at him. “A-and I know that sounds stupid because love at first sight is fucking- fucking fairytale shit, but I thought that maybe you thought the same things that I thought about you and that maybe it would work, but-”

“What do you mean?! I like you, I just lost-” He started, trying to take your hand in his.

The panic quickly turned to anger as you ripped your hand away from him.

“Look at us, Remus! We’d be wasting our precious time!” you shouted harshly over him, your hand flying in the air. “You’re a bloody wizard!” you hissed at him. “And I’m not! I-I… I can’t do any of the things that you can do.”

“That doesn’t matter-”

“But it does, and that’s why I’m saying to forget about the whole fucking thing, okay?” You turned away from him, walking back toward the pub door. “Just forget about it.”

“I like you!” He raised his voice, catching your shoulder. “I don’t want to just forget!”

You whipped around to face him, pushing his hand off your shoulder. “You’re just saying that because you feel bad for me,” you said, your teeth ground together.

Remus huffed. “I lost your number.” He enunciated every word, his jaw clenched. “I already told you that.”

“You could’ve gotten it from Lily,” You countered loudly, gesturing toward the building where you knew she was still having the fun she had promised you. “You could’ve rang Lily up and specifically fucking asked her-”

“I did!” He shouted, startling you. You shut your mouth, blinking owlishly. “I asked her,” he said, quieter this time. “But, as you know, they moved about a month ago and she misplaced her phone book, and couldn’t remember it off the top of her head.” Tentatively, Remus held both your biceps, leveling with you so that he could look you right in the eye. He let out a shaky breath, and softly said, “I wanted to call you. Honestly… I-I wanted to show up at your flat with- with flowers o-or something, but that would’ve made me look-”

“Creepy,” you whispered pointedly, nodding. “I get it.”

He dropped your arms, looking away from you with his jaw still clenched. “I’m sorry I yelled at you,” he said earnestly. “I just… I just like you, okay? And I wanted to get my point across, but you weren’t listening, and-”

You could feel yourself begin to well up, and it wasn’t because he yelled at you. You yelled at him, and he hadn’t even done anything wrong. Your panic had gotten the best of you. It was a genuine misunderstanding, just like Lily told you. You were wrong about him, yet again.

Instead of hearing him out, you walked quickly back into the pub, ignoring the way he called your name as he tried to catch up to you.

“I’m going home,” you said thickly as soon as you found Lily.

“Are you crying?” She asked, pulling you toward her. “What happened?”

“Lily, it’s fine. I’m fine.” You said shakily, your mouth pressing into a line. “I just want to go home.”

“Do you want me to walk-”

“No,” you answered, wiping tears off your cheeks as you looked over your shoulder. “Just distract him, okay? I don’t need him following me.”

Lily’s eyebrows furrowed, but she nodded.

“I’ll call you later, okay?” You said, quickly kissing her cheek. “I love you.”

You didn’t even let her respond as you rushed through the crowd, leaving through the back door of the pub.

You felt like a complete idiot. You had made an ass out of yourself, and you were convinced that now none of them liked you due to what you did to their friend.

You couldn’t believe yourself. He had admitted his feelings for you, and you blew up in his face. Your heart sunk to the bottom of your stomach, joining the sour ache that made its home there two months ago.

Remus liked you, and you ruined it.

You stopped, looking up at the nearly moonless sky, sighing out the breath you had been holding in.

“Fucking idiot,” you muttered, and continued on your way home. Alone.

#remus lupin #remus lupin x muggle!fem!reader #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin angst #i'm not in love #harvest moon

[breanime]

When Lip got home from work, the house was a mess. Frank was knocked out in the yard, smelling like a dumpster on fire in the Chicago summer heat, Fiona was passed out on the couch, a huge bottle of vodka cradled against her chest, Mickey, sporting a black eye, was smoking in the kitchen, not saying a word. Ian was sleeping in his bed wearing sparkly gold shorts, Debbie was awake and making spreadsheets for some reason, and Carl was sleeping in a broken down van with some random hood girl in the backyard.

A regular Gallagher summer.

Lip couldn't deal with any of it, once he checked on Liam--who was thankfully just playing video games under the bed--he went to sleep. You were in bed, and Lip wrapped his arms around you and joined you in your slumber.

You were gone when he woke up.

Donning a simple black tank top, Lip got up and made his way to the busiest place in the house--the kitchen. As he turned the corner through the living room and into the kitchen, he stopped at the sound of your voice, peering into the kitchen.

"--and Ian, if you don't take your meds, you know what happens. Come on, man, you were doing so good," you said, concern clear in your voice.

Lip heard Ian sigh before giving you a reluctant, but genuine, "I know... I'm sorry."

You had your hands on your hips when you turned to Mickey, "And you."

Mickey looked away, "I ain't do nothin'..." he murmured.

"You can't keep punching pervy old men," you continued, "Look at you. At least use a bat or knife, you know better."

Lip chuckled, crossing his arms as he listened in.

"FI!" You yelled, and Lip turned to see a grumbling Fiona descending the stairs into the kitchen. You stared at her, and she glared back. Lip watched from his spot in the doorway, wondering how this would go down. "Fi," you said, your voice softer.

Lip watched, surprised, as Fiona deflated.

"Yeah," she sighed out, nodding, "yeah, I know..."

You nodded, going over and giving her a hug. "Go back to bed," you said softly, "I got the kids. You rest up, and we'll talk later."

Fiona gave you a little smile and went back upstairs to rest and sober up, and you turned to address the others, "Ian, Mickey--you're going to clean the upstairs and both bathrooms," you turned your glare on Ian when he groaned, "I'm sorry, what was that?"

"Nothing. Yes, sergeant," Ian mumbled.

"Debs, you've got the kitchen. And you're in bed by 11 tonight," you put a hand up, "I don't want to hear it, bed by 11." Debbie sighed, but nodded her agreement. You turned to Carl, who was shoveling Poptarts into his mouth like a wild bear. "And you."

"Mmf?" He looked up, cheeks full of sugary pastry, and Lip couldn't help but laugh at the look on his little brother's face.

"I was dead tired last night, but I'm wide awake now. If you ever," you took a step towards Carl, who shrunk down in his chair in response, "sneak a girl into this house again, I will cut. It. Off. Do you understand me? Do your hoe shit at school or the park, but not here."

He nodded, eyes wide.

Lip couldn't take it. He laughed, turning his body to try to mask the sound, but there was no use. You turned and saw him, and you smirked at his obvious appreciation of your way of handling things.

"And you," you said, a hand on your hip as you looked at your man.

Lip raised an eyebrow, "Me?"

"Oooh, Lip's in trouble!" Carl chanted around a mouthful of food.

"Yeah, get 'im, Y/N!" Debbie added in, happy to be out of the hot seat.

"You," you went on, walking over to Lip, "Work too hard," you pulled him closer by the front of his shirt, "and you hog the covers," you grinned, stepping up and kissing him.

Ian, Debbie, Mickey, and Carl all booed at the show of affection, while Liam cheered you on. When you pulled back, Lip was grinning back at you.

"Won't happen again, boss," he promised, kissing you again.

You smiled, rolling your eyes, "Yeah, okay," you said back, not believing him in the slightest. You turned, pointing to the others, "Hey--this ain't a free show. You've got your orders, now move it. Chop chop, Gallaghers--and Milkovich."

The offending persons grumbled as they made their way to get their chores down, except Liam, who happily bounced up the stairs for some playtime, earned by his good behavior. You turned back to Lip, and he kissed you again.

"You know," he said, mouth still on yours, "I got in so late, barely had the energy to take my shoes off. Much less shower... So... How about we have some food, let Ian and Mickey get the bathroom clean, and then," he smirked, "I'll wash your back if you wash mine."

********************************************************************

Thank you for reading! Lemme know what you think! I feel like this one got a little long, haha!

#bre does gif drabbles (again)! #lip gallagher x reader #lip gallagher imagine #lip gallagher #shameless us

[byeoltoyuki]

✧memories of us ✧ drunk in love

↳ Pairing: Jisung x Reader

❧ Genre : romance / smut /fluff / 1st love to strangers to lovers

❧ Summary: Sometimes memories are just that. Memories.

❧ Warnings: alcohol / oral (f)/ first time

A series of drabbles about you and Jisung, about your love and your heartbreak and a second chance.

❧ A/N: Hi guys! I'm not dead! I know I'm wayyyy behind the schedules (story of my life). I wish I could say I'd be more active but life got busy and I'm soon going on a 2 weeks trip so hopefully, I'd be able to write some more before leaving and schedule the updates. In the meantime, here an update that is long overdue.

Likes and reblogs are appreciated ♥

Masterlist / previous / next

You regretted saying yes the moment you stepped inside the house where the party was going on. Apparently, since it became legal for all of you to be drinking and smoking, students decided to go crazy and absolutely wild, after all you were all about to leave for college. It was a good reason enough to party. The place was turned into a full night club and smelled of smoke and alcohol.

The urge to turn around and go back home was strong but you couldn’t. Yunji’s wrath was something you witnessed only once and you promised to yourself that you would do anything not to anger her.

“There you are!” Yunji appeared out of thin air with two drinks and she handed you one. “Did you know that this miserable Minho had some hidden skills?”

You snorted at the description. Really, Yunji kept pretending being annoyed with the man and yet you couldn’t not see how she glanced over her shoulder to look at the said man. “Such as?”

She quickly averted her eyes and raised her glass. “He makes amazing cocktails.”

You took a sip of your cocktail and had to admit that Yunji was right. A perfect mix of peach and vodka and something else; it was perfect. You hummed in satisfaction and looped your arm through her. “I still can’t believe you convinced me to attend the party.”

Yunji flipped her hair playfully. “I’m that convincing, I know.” Then she glanced at you, her gaze softened. “I know you’re not in your element right now, but enjoy the party nevertheless. Maybe it’s the right opportunity for you to get closer to Jisung.” 

If only.

***

If there was someone who seemed to be enjoying the party to the fullest it was Jisung. You found him among the familiar faces, laughing loudly, talking to different people and looking awfully close to a brunette. You tried to ignore the jealous monster lurking under your skin, but more you observed them from afar, and angrier you got. Maybe you were angry because Jisung looked incredibly good tonight with leather pants, a black t-shirt and with a freaking choker. Maybe you were angry because he let the pretty brunette lean closer to him, being too touchy for your liking. But maybe it was also because of the two cocktails you had. Alcohol was obviously not your forte.

There wasn’t much you could do. You could either sulk in a corner while drinking or you could act on your desire. You looked down at your drink; no, there was no way you would let someone else steal him from you. Not so easily at least. You emptied your drink in one go, letting the alcohol burn your throat.

Fists clenched, you walked as confidently as you could manage. You didn’t hesitate, not even for a second as you grabbed Jisung’s arm and pulled him towards you. He yelped in surprise, eyes widening at the sight of you.

“Angel?” Obviously, he wasn’t expecting to see you here tonight.

You ignored his question. You glanced quickly at the brunette and smirked. “He’s mine.” And you claimed his lips, not caring that you weren’t alone, not caring that nobody knew about your very confusing relationship. Nothing mattered except for the feel of his lips against yours.

Jisung chuckled against your lips, amused with your frustration but he didn’t complain. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you closer to him to deepen the kiss.

***

You pulled Jisung inside a room, not knowing whose room it was and honestly not caring much either. The only thing you wanted was to be alone with him. He let you lead him, chuckling on his way at your eagerness. 

“You are in so much trouble, mister!” You told him as you pointed an accusing finger.

“What’s up, angel?” Jisung asked despite already knowing what was wrong with you. He had to, you couldn’t believe he could be that oblivious after everything you had shared. “You look angry.”

You took a deep breath and clenched your fists. It was hard not to implode when he was being like this. Didn’t he see what was wrong? Or was he playing with you? Two could play this game. 

You unclenched your fists and looked at your pretty, bright red, painted nails. You tried to soothe your anger and look bored instead. “Oh I don’t know, Ji. Maybe I’m not amused seeing you with someone else.” You averted your eyes at him and scowled. “And here I thought we had a thing going on between us. Guess I was wrong.” 

Jisung had to give it to you; you almost sounded convincing with your feigned boredom. Sadly for you, he knew exactly how tensed and annoyed you were. He took a step towards you, hands tucked in his pockets, he was smirking. “Is someone jealous?” 

Your jaw twitched in annoyance. It would be so easy to admit just how badly you were jealous, but you kept your mouth shut and instead let him approach you. You quickly realized that it was a bad idea. The moment Jisung was close enough to you, you felt your resolution crumble. All you wanted was to wrap your arms around him and let him talk to you, let him reassure you.

Jisung gently grabbed your chin and tilted it up so you would look him in the eyes. His smirk turned into a genuine smile. “You do realize that you have no reason to be jealous, angel?”

“Sure about that?” Even to your ears, you sounded too bitter.

Jisung shook his head. He freed your chin only to let his thumb trace the shape of your lips. He was completely mesmerized with your lips, unable to look at anything else. You parted your lips and he didn’t hesitate to slip his thumb into your mouth. It was crazy and you were supposed to be angry at him, but all of that simply vanished the moment he started touching you. You couldn’t concentrate on anything else except for the feel of his thumb.

You bit on his thumb, the temptation just too strong.

“Fuck angel.” He groaned

Jisung couldn’t stop himself; he grabbed your face and claimed your mouth. The kiss was desperate, needy, pouring his feelings into the kiss. You melted against him as you clung to his shirt, bringing him even closer to you. You wanted to feel every inch of him. His lips parted and you didn’t hesitate as you deepened the kiss. The taste of him made you whimper desperately against his lips. You wanted him, all of him.

“Ji.” You whispered against his soft lips. “I need you.”

Jisung tensed but quickly recovered. He stroked your cheek, his gaze soft. “Are you sure?”

You gently pushed him from you, smiling at him. You had never been so sure about something in your life. You turned your back to him as you gathered your hair to one side to give him better access to the zipper.

Jisung inhaled sharply, understanding what you were asking for. He put his hands on your nape before slowly sliding and grabbing the zipper. Slowly, he started unzipping your dress but stopped midway to admire your exposed back – you groaned in response.

“Someone’s desperate.” He chuckled

“Am not!” But that was a lie and both of you knew it.

Jisung pressed his lips to your back. His lips covered every inch of your exposed back as he completely unzipped your dress. Your body responded instantly to his kisses; every place his lips touched was on fire.

You turned to face him, unable to look away from his beautiful eyes. Without breaking the eye contact, you pushed the dress and let it fall on the floor by your feet. Jisung’s breath hitched in his throat at the sight before him. You wore no bra under the dress which left you only in your panties. The urge to hide from his intense gaze was strong but you fought back. You wanted it. You wanted him to touch you. You grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the bed.

“Y/N.” Jisung tug your hands. You glanced over your shoulder, almost surprised to hear him call you by your name instead of his favorite nickname for you. Your heart swelled with love at the sight of his worried frown. “Are you really sure about it?”

You pecked his lips in response and smiled. “More than sure.”

You climbed on the bed, getting comfortable before you spread your arms, inviting him to come and claim you.

Jisung stood by the bed, his eyes roaming over your body, memorizing every mole, every tiny scars on your body. He couldn’t deny that he wanted you desperately, his pants were getting more and more uncomfortable.

“Come on, Ji.” You pleaded

Jisung ruffled his hair in frustration. “Fuck it.” He grabbed his shirt and pulled it over his head, throwing it across the room, before getting rid of the last piece of clothes.

You couldn’t avert your eyes from him even if you wanted. Jisung stood completely naked before you and looked confident and terribly beautiful. The urge to touch him and explore his body was impossible to ignore. But Jisung was faster. He joined you, body pressing against yours.

“You are so damn beautiful, I hope you know it.” He confessed and placed warm and wet kisses all over your neck, gently biting your skin. “I am so damn lucky, angel.”

And so were you, you thought as you pressed his head against you.

Jisung’s lips found yours once more. The kiss was no longer needy but gentle and sweet. He was taking his time, wanting you to feel all he felt for you, wanting to show you how much he cared.

“I’m going to take care of you, angel.” He promised. And you knew he would.

A soft moaned escaped your lips as his lips traveled down your skin. He made sure that no spot was left unkissed. He made sure that no spot was left unmarked. Jisung grabbed your panties and slowly took them off you. He took his sweet time, once more placing kisses all over your thighs, your knees.

You shivered, feeling even more exposed now. Exposed, yet terribly excited judging by how wet Jisung got you with just kisses. You would have been embarrassed any other time, but not tonight. Not when he was admiring your body with so much fondness and lust in his eyes.

“So fucking beautiful.” Jisung whispered more to himself than to you, as he gently spread your legs. “And mine.” 

Jisung came face to face with your pussy and gave it a lick to have a taste – you shuddered at the sensation. “Oh fuck.” He wanted to take it slow, to make you come on his tongue, around his fingers, but now that he had a taste, he wasn’t sure he could control himself. He dived in, unable to stop himself.

“Oh my god, Ji.” You moaned and grabbed the sheets, holding for your dear life as he feasted on you. You knew it would be good, you had spent hours in your bed, touching yourself, imagining it would be him, but the real thing was so much better.

Jisung ate you like a starved man, lips and tongue working, devouring you in a way that left you begging for more. You pushed your hips to feel more, needing more. With every flick of his tongue, your grip on the sheets got stronger and you wondered if in the moment of pure bliss, you would tear the sheets apart.

“You taste so good, angel.” Jisung growled against your flesh. He wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked. Hard.

You cried out loudly, unable to contain your voice. And who cared if someone heard you anyway? You wanted the whole world to know just how good Jisung made you feel. You wanted them to know that he was yours and only yours.

“Fuck, I can’t get enough.” Jisung confessed, completely gone.

“Ji, I think I’m going to come.” You managed to say, your legs shaking. And Jisung sucked only harder, making your toes curl and your stomach clench before finally you completely let go in a silent scream.

Jisung straightened his back and licked his lips. He hummed in satisfaction as he stared at you, grinning. “You, my sweet angel,” and he hovered over you, “Taste divine.” And he kissed you, letting you taste yourself. And fuck if you didn’t come a second time just from that.

Jisung pulled back, his hands back on your thighs as he spread you more for him. He guided his throbbing, hard cock to your pussy and brushed your folds. You gasped, your heart pounding hard inside your chest.

“Sure?” He asked again, trying to resist the urge to just pound into you.

You groaned and nudged him with your leg. “Jisung, I swear to god, just fuck me!”

“So bossy!” But he obliged. Finally. Slowly, he slipped inside you, inch by inch, trying not to hurt you. “Fuck, angel, you’re so tight.”

“Fu-uck.” You shut your eyes tightly, trying to relax, trying to take all of him inside you. But it was too much.

“Hey there,” Jisung peppered your face with kisses as he slid his hand between your bodies, reaching for your clit to distract you from the pain. “You’re doing so good, my little angel.”

Jisung gave you the time you needed to adjust. He watched your every wince, your every breath, waiting for the sign you were ready.

“Ji, you can move.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. From your tightness alone, he didn’t need if he could last and it took all of his willpower to stay still while being wrapped around your warmth. You felt just so damn good.

Jisung pulled out slightly and thrust back slowly, drawing a small moan from you. He did again and again, his thrusts gentle and controlled but you could tell from how shaky he was, it was hard for him.

You wrapped your arms tightly around him and pulled him into a wet kiss. “I can take it.”

“Y/N.”

“I promise.”

His next thrust made your eyes roll back in your head and clench around him. It felt just so good.

“Fuck, angel, don’t do that or I’m going to explode.” He begged, wanting it to last longer, wanting to feel more of your warmth.

As your body got accommodated to him, Jisung’s pace fastened, going deeper, reaching spots that made you arch your back, that made you beg for more and moan his name over and over again. Jisung was addictive, every part of him and you realized that you could never have enough.

“More, please, Ji, more.” You begged, meeting his thrusts.

“Fuck,” Jisung cursed as he felt you clench around him again. “I really won’t last.” But he refused to let go before he felt you come around his cock. Once more he reached your clit, rubbing it, drawing another loud cry from you. “Come for me, my sweet angel.”

And your body followed his command. Your stomach clenched hard one last time before everything exploded inside you in an uncontrollable wave. Your body convulsed under him, letting completely go as you screamed his name one last time.

“Just like that, good girl.” He praised you as he kept thrusting inside you, seeking his own release.

Jisung came with a low and long groan, collapsing on top of you. He couldn’t resist the urge to place some kisses on your chest, making you squirm under him which made him chuckle.

“Hey angel,” He started and moved to be inches from your face. “I hadn’t told you yet, but I love you.”

#stray kids #han jisung #stray kids smut #han jisung smut #stray kids x reader #han jisung x reader #stray kids fic #han x reader #stray kids fluff #memories of us

[lilacsbeeswax]

happy birthday to your account!! for your writing event, can I please have Lilies 🌺 with work song by hozier and sirius black? thank you🖤

Work Song

Part of my 2 year milestone event!

MASTERLIST

——-

Boys, workin' on empty

Is that the kinda way to face the burning heat?

I just think about my baby

I'm so full of love I could barely eat

Work, work, and work Sirius swore these days it’s all that he did. Back when his dream of running his own tattoo shop was nothing but that he had had no idea what it would entail.

For the past week, he had been clogged with appointments. So many people had wanted custom tattoos, so he was drawing constantly. Then, it came to actually doing the pre booked tattoos which could take hours. As well as, walk ins that paid well, but took just as much time. Even when sharing the work load with James it was hard. Remus was out on vacation meaning Sirius had to take over bookkeeping and running the business. He swore he’d never have to do math, but there he was doing basic algebra at 8 am.

In short, Sirius was absolutely swamped. He had even been sleeping (albeit only a few hours) at the shop. His overfull mind only becoming more painful in the hours away from her.

Her. His only paradise. His pretty baby. The only girl for him.

He got small tastes of Y/n throughout the day, but it didn’t satiate his desire for her. Everyday at 11:30 am, she would bring him lunch during her break at her own job. She could be doing anything else, but she wanted to spend her rest time on him. Sirius loved it so much he felt sick. Often, he would be thinking about her so much that he wouldn’t be able to eat. He was unable to stomach the sweetness that he felt he never deserved.

There's nothing sweeter than my baby

I'd never want once from the cherry tree

'Cause my baby's sweet as can be

She give me toothaches just from kissin' me

Sirius walked into the apartment on Saturday night exhausted. Y/n called out to him, “Siri? Is that you?”

He didn’t respond quietly slipping off his shoes and coat. She turned the corner, running up to him and nearly sliding on the laminate floor. She wrapped her arms around him, placing her forehead on his.

“Hey baby,” Sirius sighed. “I missed you.”

She leaned away and smiled at him. That sweet smile that made him feel like he was going to faint. “I missed you more!”

Sirius moved to brush a thumb against her lips relishing in everything about her, before his gently pulled her into a kiss. It was soft and sweet and if he didn’t know better, Sirius would suspect he was going into cardiac arrest.

Boys, when my baby found me

I was three days on a drunken sin

I woke with her walls around me

Nothin' in her room but an empty crib

And I was burnin' up a fever

I didn't care much how long I lived

But I swear I thought I dreamed her

She never asked me once about the wrong I did

Y/n and Sirius had met many years ago, back when he was a self-described man whore and carried way too much trauma to hold on his own.

He had been a mess. Drinking constantly, using, and not being able to hold a stable job. Despite all of his problems, she had pulled him up and out of it.

Sirius had lost yet another job the day he had started that fateful drunken binge. Maybe, it was the cheap vodka or the combination of it and the weed, but he had called her.

When she arrived at his place after a very concerning phone call, you had found him on the floor half dead. From then on she never stopped taking care of him. She never asked what really happened.

My babe would never fret none

About what my hands and my body done

If the Lord don't forgive me

I'd still have my baby and my babe would have me

When I was kissing on my baby

And she put her love down soft and sweet

In the low lamplight I was free

Heaven and hell were words to me

Y/n and Sirius got ready for bed and laid down on their soft shared mattress for the first time in what felt like weeks.

She ran her fingers over his scarred up arms and chest. She kissed his lips, while caressing the marred skin. Sirius pulled away and kissed down her neck, nipping at all of the places he knew she liked. Out of the corner of his eye he could see her smiling under the dim lamp light.

“Fucking hell, you’re heaven.” He chuckled, saying a word between every soft peck of her neck.

“I could say the same about you, Siri.” She giggled, pulling him close to her, not planning on letting go anytime soon.

When my time comes around

Lay me gently in the cold, dark earth

No grave can hold my body down

I'll crawl home to her

Lying there wrapped around the love of his life, Sirius couldn’t help but smile, knowing no one and nothing could take him away from his baby.

MASTERLIST

#fluff #marauders x reader #sirius black x reader #sirius black x y/n #sirius black x you #lilacsasks #2 year tumblrversary #fanfic event

[lazybutsmexy]

Choices have consequences

Alejandro Vargas x reader (GN)

Warning: light angst, culinary crimes, talk about past food insecurity.

Summary: There is an unwritten rule that you assumed Alejandro would have learned by now, after three years of committed relationship: don't anger the cook. You were wrong.

On AO3

A/N: I'm like, five vodka cocktails in. If there are any mistakes I'll fix them when I'm sober. Also I got inspired by @ragingbookdragon 's badass reader because I just know Alejandro is. So. Whipped.

When you had decided to move in together, an arrangement was made: all household chores would be shared when he was present, but you would be in charge of meal planning and cooking.

It was a convenient set-up for the two of you; you wouldn't be burdened with all the chores when he was off-duty, and would only look after your own load of housekeeping when you were by yourself. Besides, Alejandro was by no means an incapable man when cooking, you were just better than him in that regard - by a lightyear.

To you, cooking wasn't just a means to an end - it was an act of service, a declaration of love. And to date a passionate man as Alejandro, you showed the same passion for your culinary art.

The kitchen was your realm, and you were the regent. No matter whoever was going to be the recipient of your hard work, you always chose the finest ingredients. You loved to experiment with flavours and aromas. You had transformed an unused closet at the far end of your kitchen into a walk-in pantry - your spices occupied nearly an entire wall in there.

You put your heart and soul into every dish, it didn't matter if it was for Alejandro and you, a house full of guests, or just yourself. Those close to the both of you knew that a dinner invitation to your house meant a culinary experience that could rival that of a Michelin star restaurant.

And you were damn proud of yourself for that. You nurtured yourself on the faces of your guests when their head tilted slightly backwards, their eyes closed, and a soft moan escaped them as soon as they tried your meals. Alejandro himself had more than once interrupted himself from eating to cup your face in his hands and kiss you to thank you for your efforts.

Which is why the very words that came out of his mouth hit you like a train dead on.

Granted, he didn't say them to you directly, you overheard him on accident the previous day while he was talking on the phone. You didn't mean to eavesdrop, but he wasn't being secretive either. He was sitting in the living room, and the conversation was quite light-hearted, so you assumed that the topic was nothing related to his work. You still kept quiet, sneaking behind him to grab a book you had meant to start reading for a while.

The conversation had shifted to meals, somehow, and it caught your attention immediately when he mentioned some of the meals you often made. It never failed to warm your heart when he gushed about your culinary skills.

"...I mean, I appreciate the effort because it's such a hassle to cook and they do it all from scratch, but a few times it felt like I was eating rations in the field."

...What?

He couldn't be talking about your food, right?

...Right?

He ended his sentence with a chuckle, and you just stood there, fingers grasping the spine of the book. Your eyes were fixed on the shelf as his conversation moved on, his voice fading from your perception.

There was a weight on your chest that expanded to the bottom of your stomach and to the middle of your head, settling right behind your eyes. Knowing what was to come, you left the book in its place and walked back to the room you'd come from, just as quietly as you'd arrived.

After twenty minutes or so, you emerged from your hiding place, face freshly washed and - hopefully - no traces of the little angst marathon you went through. Alejandro still sat in the living room, this time he was watching a rerun of some fútbol match, completely unaware of the beast he had unknowingly set loose.

You walked straight to the kitchen with a newfound determination, a mission if you will. After gulping two cups of water to rehydrate yourself - and a quick prayer to your late abuela for forgiveness for the crime you were about to commit - you put your hands to work. You usually took about two hours to cook, but you were sure that you would be over much quicker than that.

You carefully washed, sliced, and prepared the main ingredients, making sure that the meal would have everything necessary to look absolutely normal. You were akin to an explosives expert assembling a bomb, every step carefully calculated to achieve your goal.

The light scent of that escaped from the pot caught Alejandro's attention, and he robotically moved to set the table. You stole a glance at him, finding him eager and looking forward to dinner with a tiny grin on his face.

Estúpido mimado.

A few more minutes passed and the rice stew was ready. You looked at it, quite bland and lacking some colour, and knowing exactly how it would taste. Memories from a time long past flashed in your mind and you forced yourself to shoo them away. Carefully, you brought the pot to the table and filled two plates - Alejandro's, like always, had a extra spoonful.

You both sat down and started eating. You kept your eyes on your plate as you heard him chomp down eagerly, then quietly slow down until pulling to a stop. You tried your best not to break into a devilish smirk as he finally spoke to you.

"... Mi amor?" He sounded confused, if not a bit concerned, "the food tastes... Uh... Different than usual."

"...Yeah?," You quipped, knowing exactly what was wrong with the food, it wasn't just bland. It was sick dog level of blandness. No spices at all, no herbs, not even salt. "I tried a new recipe today."

"Uh, okay?," He frowned a bit, slowly pushing the food around with his plate, wondering how to tell you that he didn't like it one bit, "it just... It has no spices...?"

You can't contain your smirk this time, it felt like getting away with a crime. It was a criminal masterpiece.

"Pues claro, mi amor," your voice was sweet, but the mirth in your tone couldn't be hidden, and ran a shiver down his spine, "I wanted to emulate the flavour of the rations you seem to love so much."

Alejandro blinked once, twice, and felt his blood run cold. Had you heard him?

"Mi amor-" he began, but you interrupted him, pointing your spoon to his face.

"Escúchame bien Alejandro Vargas," you scolded him and he gulped and shut his mouth, sitting straight in his chair, "this kind of food would've been a banquet for me growing up. The sort of food I so lovingly dedicate myself to prepare everyday is the result of my dreams and desires from when I was a kid, and you disrespected that by acting como un estúpido mimado."

"Pero claro," you pitch raised and Alejandro had flashbacks of his own mamá whenever he got a scolding, "el señor put my meals at the same level of the rations he gets from the army, which I know how they taste like and don't you forget that," you accentuated every syllable with the spoon, which was still pointed at his face. Alejandro gulped as he watched you, and you continued on, "so I decided that you will eat this meal - all of it - and be thankful for every meal you receive from today on, mine or the army's, because making fun of the meals I so lovingly make for you is the same as making fun of me as a kid who got this only when there was something to celebrate. Entendido?"

"...Si, mi vida," Alejandro stated with a nod, feeling like a little kid under your harsh glare, "cada palabra."

"Good," you nodded, and carried on with eating your own meal, "que sea la última vez."

Alejandro took a few seconds to carry on with his meal, making a mental note to bring you a bouquet of flowers in the morning with your breakfast.

#alejandro vargas #alejandro vargas x reader #alejandro x reader #alejandro cod #cod x reader #cod mw2 #cod mw2 fanfic #alejandro vargas fanfic #im a native Spanish speaker trust me

[blueteller]

So, I discovered the "random incorrect quotes generator" and had some fun with it. Here you go 😂

Alberu: So. Choi Han and I were crossing the street, and this dude drove by and honked at us Cale: *sighs* …What did Choi Han do? Alberu: He chased him to the next red light, then reached into his window and… Choi Han: *smiles innocently* Do you need a steering wheel, Cale-nim?

Cale: We need to get through this locked door. Bud, give me your money Bud: …Ok, here? Cale: *pockets it* Thanks. Choi Han, kick down the door Bud: …

Eruhaben: While I'm gone - Raon, you're in charge. Raon: Yes!!! Eruhaben: *whispers* On, you're the one actually in charge. On: *whispers back* Obviously.

Basen: Where's Lily? She isn't answering Violan: I'll call Basen: Father and I have both tried six times ea- Violan: Lily! Lily: *in distance* Yes?

Cale: What's a word thats a mix between 'sad' and 'mad'? Choi Han: Disgruntled, miserable, desolated- Raon: Smad! Cale & Choi Han: … (How can he be so cute)

Tasha: Alberu, tell Mary about the birds and the bees Mary: *stares silently* Alberu: *sweats* Alberu: …They're disappearing at an alarming rate

Cale: What doesn't kill me should run, because now I'm f***ing pissed Gods: *shiver* (Why do I hear boss music-?)

On: Dandelions symbolize everything I want to be in life Raon: Fluffy and dead with a gust of wind? On: Unapologetic. Hard to kill. Feral, filled with sunlight, bright, beautiful in a way that the conventional and controlling hate but cannot ever fully destroy. Stubborn. Happy. Bastardous. Friends with bees. Highly disapproving of lawns. Full of wishes that will be carried far after I die. Hong: …edible! Cale: *shivers in the distance*

Cale: Would you stab your best friend in the leg for 10 billion gallons? Choi Han: *thinks carefully* If you stabbed me, you could just heal me with a potion, and then we could buy another big-a** villa somewhere Clopeh: *enthusiastic* You could stab me too, and then you'd have 20 billion! Choi Han: *pulls out his sword with a smile* …Good thinking

*Archie and Paseton sitting in jail together* Paseton: So, who should we call for help? Archie: …I'd call Cale, but I think I feel safer in jail

Rasheel: *sarcastic* How petty can you get? Mila: *smiling* I once edited historical documents to win an argument I was wrong about Rasheel: *scared* What the f-

Alberu: ...You know those things will kill you, right? Eruhaben: *pouring himself a glass of vodka* That's the point. Choi Han: *smoking 10 cigarettes at once* We're trying to speed up the process. Cale: *nods while eating raw cookie dough*

Witira: You have to apologize to Paseton Archie: …Fine. Archie: 'Unf*** you', or whatever

Cale: Looking left cause you don't treat me right Choi Han: Looking right because you left Raon: Looking up cause you let me down Alberu: Looking down cause you f***ed up White Star: *bleeding from having his arm ripped off* …What is wrong with you guys??

Alberu: *walks into his bedroom* …Hello, people who do not live here. Cale: Hey. Choi Han: Hello. Raon: Hi cookie prince! Hong: *chewing* Alberu: You know I gave you the key to my place for emergencies only, right? On: *shrugs* We were out of cookies

Cale: I've come to a point in my life where I need a stronger word than 'f***' Raon: Human, you poopy dumbo!! Cale: … Cale: …that works, I guess

Alberu: Instructor-nim, why do you always wear black? Choi Han: So that when someone points at your black clothes and asks whose funeral it is, having a look around the room and saying 'Haven't decided yet' is a valid response. Alberu: *thoughtfully* Hm. I should try that at the next nobles meeting

Shapeshifter: *transforms to look like Eruhaben* Eruhaben: *hairflips* Fool, are you blind? You look nothing like me. First off, I'm taller. Secondly, I DO NOT look so sleep deprived. Also, if you could drag comb through that hair you would be a 7 at most, everyone knows I'm a constant 10-

Raon: Human, you'll have a hard time believing this because it never happens - but it seems I made a mistake! Cale: *sighs* ...What did you do this time?

Deruth: You see, children, nothing in life is free- Lily: Love is free! Basen: Knowledge is free Violan: Artistic inspiration is free Cale: *smirks* Everything is free if you simply loot it

White Star: I learned some very valuable lessons from this. Sheritt: I'm guessing they are all horrible distortions on the lessons you actually should've taken away. White Star: Death isn't real, and I'm basically God.

(Cage remix) Cage: *drinking* I learned some very valuable lessons from this. Taylor: ...I'm guessing they are all horrible distortions on the lessons you actually should've taken away? Cage: Death isn't real, and neither is God God of Death: *sobbing in the distance*

Deruth: Cale… just how many kids do you have? Cale: …Biologically, emotionally, or legally? Deruth: 0_0

#tcf #trash of the count's family #lcf #lout of the count’s family #humor #tcf humor #incorrect quotes #incorrect tcf #crack #tcf crack

[reformedpeasant]

but let's talk about you for a minute, with the vomit in your gullet from a half bottle of vodka that we'd stolen from the optic on the back seat in your car because it wasn't safe to start it. you were far too fucked to drive were the words that you imparted. and the woolen dress that clung so tight to the contours of your body and the dead grass stuck to fibres from us rolling in the layby were passed to dog-haired blankets that protected the bench seat covers and a crucifix was hung from rearview mirror by your mother

I'm leaving my body to science, not medical but physics. drag my corpse through the airport and lay me limp on the left wing. drop me at the highest point and trace a line around the dent I leave in the ground, that'll be the initial of the one you will marry now I'm not around. I flew for seven hours. the sky didn't once turn black

you know I'd sooner go down in a ball of flames, than I would lay here and be bored to death. alls well that ends

I wake from sleep, my head and shoulder wet against the window. a frost had formed and melted. soaked me right through to my collarbone. if you were given the option of dying painlessly in peace at forty-five but with a lover at your side after a full and happy life, is that something that would interest you? would this interest you at all?

#sorry sorry #in medias res #los campesinos! #lc! #song lyrics #lyrics #also didnt do a spell check on this or like correction for the right words so we shall seeeeee

[yuujispinkhair]

To the end (Chapter 4)

The end of the world as you knew it began with the virus spreading in your dorm. Six months later, you are once again on the run. By your side is Sukuna, the bad boy of your camp, the most unlikely companion you expected. But maybe this is exactly as it should be because sometimes hope comes in the form of a smug smirk and a tattooed pair of sword-yielding arms.

Chapter 1 ++ Chapter 2 ++ Chapter 3

Pairing: Sukuna x Reader (female) Genre: Zombie Apocalypse AU, horror, smut and some fluff Word Count: 3.5k Warnings: 18+, this chapter is rather tame, but the overall story contains violence, gore, angst, smut, cumshot, cum-eating, squirting, rough sex, zombies, fighting, knives, blood, mentions of several side characters' deaths, alcohol, cigarettes, suicidal thoughts. This AU is based on The Walking Dead, so imagine a world like this. It's cruel and hopeless at times, but there is also a love story :) All characters are of age. This story is 18+. Minors don't interact.

A big part of your everyday life now is to explore the vicinity of your hut. Combing through the forest to look for traces of Yuuji and for everything that could be useful for your survival out here. Food, supplies, and weapons.

Today's excursion is a successful one. You and Sukuna stumble upon an abandoned construction truck, which from the looks of it, used to serve as a break room for former timbermen.

The lock is easy to break. Excitement washes over you as the metal chain rattles softly in your hands. Before you can pull open the door though, Sukuna's hand lands on your arm, and he pushes past you.

"Let me go in first."

"I can do that too, you know? I'm not completely helpless."

He huffs and grins at you over his tattoed shoulder, amusement sparkling in his maroon-colored eyes.

"Maybe I just want to get my hands on the best stuff in there. Too bad for you that you let me go first, huh, princess?"

You roll your eyes and put both hands on his broad back, shoving him playfully. Or trying to, because you can't move his muscular body even an inch.

"Shut up, and open the door. I am curious what's inside."

Two weeks ago, you wouldn't have dared to talk to him like this. Sukuna always seemed so intimidating in your old camp. He used to be someone you didn't want to get too close to. Funny how being stuck together in a small hut can change the way you feel about someone. And maybe sharing kisses with him and fucking like rabbits helped too.

The door swings open with a soft creaking sound. Sukuna's muscles tense under your hands as he lifts his hands with the knives in them, carefully checking the inside for any surprises in the form of undead souls.

"Clear."

You let out a breath of relief at his low voice that carries a triumphant tone in just that one word.

Your hands fall to your sides, and you slowly follow Sukuna into the truck.

Sukuna whistles appreciatively as he strolls into the narrow space, his hands buried casually in the pockets of his cargo pants.

"Nice! Guess those guys used to have a fun workday."

Your gaze follows his, and you chuckle.

A rather extensive collection of beer and coke cans line the metallic shelve that's installed at the wall. On the small table beneath it is a stack of cigarette packs and several bags of chips and cookies. The crown piece of the former lunch supply is, to your amusement, an almost full bottle of vodka.

You and Sukuna put all the stuff into your backpacks before you make your way back to the hut, sharing a package of chips and a can of coke on your way.

The few zombies you encounter on the way pose no challenge, and Sukuna slays them casually with one hand while taking a sip from his coke.

You huff at the cocky display of arrogance, but when his maroon gaze lands on you, he raises an eyebrow and tells you in a far too smug voice,

"Oh, don't gimme that look. I know you get wet from watching me fight."

Your heated attempt at denial gets silenced by Sukuna shoving the coke can into your face and a loud laugh coming from him.

Later that day, when the sun is starting to set, Sukuna rummages through the newly acquired supplies and pulls out the vodka bottle with a big smirk on his face.

"Hey, brat, wanna have a party at the end of the world?"

You can't help but snort, but the offer sounds too tempting to turn down.

You try to remember the last time you went to a real party. The memory is blurry, like most things that took place before the virus. It was another world back then. And somehow, you find it hard to relate to the person you had been back then.

She had spent hours getting ready for a party, excited and nervous because she might see her crush. She sang along loudly to her favorite songs and danced in front of the mirror without a care in the world. Her biggest worry was whether to wear a black or blue shirt.

That girl doesn't exist anymore. Only traces of her are left now that your world has been turned upside down.

A year ago, you went to a party with that nice and a bit nerdy guy from your English course who started to stammer when you just held his hand and who you could have brought home to meet your family at any time.

Now you lift your head to smile at a heavily tattoed guy with a vodka bottle in his hands who has a body count of at least three people and countless zombies. Literal body count, not sex-wise. Though, judging by the way he fucks you, he has a high body count in that department too.

The craziness of it all makes you laugh out loud, and you shrug,

"Oh, why not? Let's have a party."

The twinkle in Sukuna's eyes lets you know that you picked the right answer.

The two of you end up sitting next to each other on a blanket on the floor of the hut, leaning back against the wall, legs stretched out comfortably in front of you.

It feels homely, like an indoor picnic you might do on an evening with friends or a sleepover. A candle is flickering softly in a small glass jar, shedding a warm glow on the hut's interior. The blanket is filled with opened chips and cookie packages, a coke can for each of you, and in Sukuna's tattoed hand is the vodka bottle.

He lets his head fall back against the wall and takes a big gulp directly out of the bottle.

You watch his eyes close, long eyelashes fanning out over his high cheekbones when he drinks. Not for the first time, you catch yourself admiring his beauty. The angular shape of his jaw, the gracefully curved lips, the smooth tan skin. The black filigree lines of his tattoos don't taint that beauty but add to it. Framing his handsome face enticingly.

He is a work of art. A walking contradiction. Beauty and violence combined.

Sukuna's adam's apple bops when he swallows the drink, followed by a satisfied sigh that pulls you out of your thoughts.

"Damn, that's good! It's been too long! Here, have some too."

Sukuna hands the vodka to you, the corners of his lips lifted in that typical boyish smirk. Your fingers brush over his as you take the bottle from him.

The taste is rather vile. The vodka is too warm, and it must be a cheap one, tasting too strongly of alcohol. But it fills your stomach with comforting warmth, and your head gets cloudy with a soothing buzz almost instantly.

This is nice.

It's nice to sit here on the floor surrounded by snacks. It's nice to sip vodka and slowly get tipsy from it. To feel the tension leave your body. Almost as if the world isn't ending out there. 

It's nice to be here with Sukuna, sitting next to him, so close that you almost touch. You are suddenly filled with an intense feeling of gratefulness. You are glad that he is here by your side. That you aren't alone in this hell. And Sukuna proved to be a good zombie apocalypse partner. An excellent one.

You find yourself drifting closer to him until you are leaning against his side, and you can rest your head on his shoulder, snuggling comfortably against his muscular frame.

Your worries seem far away right now. It's like you and Sukuna exist in a bubble detached from the harsh reality. As if you are just two regular college students who went on a hiking trip or something in the woods. Two people who snuck away from their group to enjoy an intimate moment of bonding while getting drunk together on cheap vodka.

The alcohol makes you feel less tense. It lets you push the constant fear and worries into the back of your mind where they aren't as overwhelming anymore.

You're feeling warm, and your head is spinning in a good way. You find yourself giggling and laughing, joking around with Sukuna while the bottle of vodka passes from his hand to yours and back again. It looks like his grin gets broader with every sip he takes.

He is more relaxed, too, laughing and flirting even more with you than usual in his typical rude but charming way. It's lighthearted and funny. Playful banter like you would have at a normal party too.

You find yourself talking a lot more with him than ever before. Telling him stories about your former life. About your college courses, your dream career, and the funny things that happened in your dorm. About all the things that were your life before the virus put an end to all of that.

And Sukuna laughs and toasts to it and, to your surprise, shares his own stories about his former life. A life that is long gone and will never come back.

You lift your head from his shoulder to look at him as he talks. His maroon eyes glitter in the candlelight, looking so alive and warm in the golden glow of the candle. The grin on his handsome face is so genuine and open, like you have never seen him before, as he talks about college, his sports team, and the stupid stunts he pulled at parties.

The alcohol in your brain makes you more direct. Before you take the next sip of vodka, you blurt out,

"Why do you have all those tattoos? Especially the face tattoos. They are pretty extreme, you know."

You chuckle and reach out to run a finger over the black lines on his jaw, tracing them slowly with your fingertip.

Sukuna shrugs and smirks at you. His low voice sounds amused,

"Let me say this first: I was a difficult kid. As long as I can remember, I have always gotten into trouble. I'm just not good with authorities. I get angry when people try to tell me what to do or when they are stupid or...I don't know. I just get pissed off, and I do some dumb stuff."

You laugh loudly as you look up at him, nodding in agreement that you can imagine that all too well.

Sukuna grins back at you and runs a hand through his pink hair, smoothing it down before continuing his story of how he got his tattoos.

"The thing with the tattoos started when I was mad at my grandpa for something. I can't even remember what it was, but I left the house to go to some shady bar and get drunk. And there was this guy who did tattoos for the Yakuza. I decided the best way to piss off my grandpa would be to get tattoed. So I told that guy to take me to his shop and do it right away. He found it funny, I think. Took me to his place and did the face tattoos. Those were actually the first ones I got. I came back a few weeks later to get the ones on my body done."

You shake your head, eying him with a skeptical look.

"Those were some drastic measures just to piss your grandpa off."

Sukuna shrugs and huffs,

"Yeah, what can I say? I didn't care about the consequences at that moment. I just felt this need to show my grandpa that I am the only one who has a say when it comes to my life. Even if it meant showing him that I could always get worse. It was pretty stupid. I lost my job at the cinema snack stand because of those tattoos. And I think I was about to get suspended from college too. But I didn't care. It's not like I had a dream career or something like that. I would have probably ended up doing some illegal shit to get by. Well, in the long run, none of it mattered anyways. I guess the zombie apocalypse saved me from becoming a real Yakuza."

He laughs softly, but a shadow flickers over his face, and he averts his gaze, eyes fixed on the flickering flame of the candle when he continues softly,

"It was typical of me. I just couldn't fit into regular life. It wasn't for me. All those rules and obligations. I always wanted to break out of that, and I fought anyone who tried to make me bend to those rules. Maybe that's why I seem to handle the apocalypse so well. Maybe I was made for a world like this. For chaos and anarchy."

For a moment, silence settles between you. Sukuna's little tale started as a funny and dumb story but turned into something much more serious.

His words make something in your heart twist painfully. You catch yourself thinking that this boy with the smug smirk is far more broken when he wants anyone to know.

His past sounds like the re-telling of an accident that you know will happen but cannot prevent. Sukuna had been heading straight into his very personal apocalypse even before the virus outbreak. And Sukuna is smart. He knew that he was working towards his own ruin but was unable to stop it because he couldn't let go of his urge to rebel, to always stand proud, and never grovel before anyone.

His story is that of a lost cause. A troublemaker who would never fit society's standards. The type of guy who everyone would have warned you about and told you to stay away from so he wouldn't drag you down with him.

You remember that moment after Sukuna killed those two guys who had wanted to take your supplies. That moment when he had been worried you were scared of him. Half convinced that you would push him away. Because maybe that is what had happened all his life.

It makes you feel a strange kind of sympathy for him. As cocky and dangerous as Sukuna appears, the last weeks with him have shown you that there is more to him than his tough shell. He might be an asshole, but he is a rather nice asshole. His humor actually makes you laugh. You respect him for his many skills and his intelligence. And you know that without him, you wouldn't be alive at this point. Because Sukuna can actually be quite protective. It's kind of tragic that most people never got to see this side of him.

A heavy silence has settled between the two of you.

You aren't sure how to react. Reach out and put a hand on Sukuna's knee to show him you understand? Or elbow him and laugh about his wild past. Before you can decide what to do, Sukuna is the one who eases the tension. He smirks at you, eyeing you with a teasing glint in his eyes,

"Why did you want to know about my tattoos? Do you like them? They are sexy, aren't they?"

"Yeah...I mean...kind of?"

"I know you're into them. Ok, my turn. What are your favorite movies?"

You can't help but giggle at his reply, elbowing him and rolling your eyes. Still, your annoyance isn't real, and it's obvious when you snuggle back against Sukuna's side, getting comfortable again as you tell him about your favorite movies.

You spend hours like that, talking about the things you like. About movies, about your preferred coffee order, things that are far away and that you will probably never get back. And yet it feels nice to get filled with sweet nostalgia as you remember those things that used to bring you joy.

At some point, Sukuna's arm wraps around you, holding you closely against his side.

He feels comforting, a body full of strong muscles and reassuring warmth. His voice is low and soothing, tongue slightly heavy from all the vodka. It sounds good on him, though, sexy and smooth.

He tells you about his family. About his parents, who died young, long before the virus, back when Sukuna and Yuuji were only children.

And he tells you about his grandpa, who the twins grew up with.

The grumpy old man who taught them how to fight and who took them to bars and pachinkos at a much too young age but always tried to teach them to make friends and use their strength to help others. A man who did his best to raise his grandsons to become good people.

A man who, in Sukuna's opinion, failed because he only had one grandson who is a good guy: Yuuji. Sukuna's twin brother.

Sukuna's voice becomes a bit rough when he talks about him. Obviously worried about Yuuji, obviously missing him by his side.

The brother who is closer to Sukuna than anyone else.

The brother who built pillow forts with Sukuna when they were little and stayed in his bed the whole night because he had nightmares, and Sukuna told him he would protect him and chase all the monsters in Yuuji's dreams away.

The brother who is sunshine incarnate and so full of kindness and compassion.

"My brother is the most important person to me. Yuuji is...he is a good guy. Sometimes too good for this world. He is too selfless. I have to find him to make sure he doesn't play the hero. He is my little brother. I am responsible for him."

"You are twins, Sukuna. You are the same age."

"I am the older one! By a whole three minutes!"

He exclaims loudly in mock exasperation. Something you know he must have said so many times ever since he and Yuuji were little that it has become an automatic reply, a reflex. It makes you laugh fondly.

It's sweet somehow to see this side of Sukuna. To see beyond that arrogant and ruthless shell. He isn't just a zombie slayer or survival expert. He is also a brother, a grandson, and a friend. He has people he cares about and who care about him. And you seem to be one of them now.

The smirk on Sukuna's face is boyish, so attractive that you can't look away. He shakes his head slightly before continuing,

"But seriously, Yuuji always has my back. I mean, sure, he gets mad at me and tells me off for getting into trouble. He even punched me in the face one time. Gave me a nice black eye..."

He laughs at that, eyes focusing on a spot behind you, clearly seeing a memory flash before his inner eye. A memory that makes a smile play around his lips.

He is still smiling as he trails a hand down your arm, making you shiver at his soft touch, at the now familiar feeling of his skin on yours. His long fingers gently pry the bottle of vodka out of your grasp. He brings it to his lips, tilting his head back to take another gulp. The last one, you realize.

Sukuna sighs as he puts the empty bottle away and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, and then he continues, picking up where he left off,

"Even though he doesn't approve of what I do, Yuuji has my back. He gets me out of shit. I would have been in a lot more trouble in the past if it weren't for him. He never gave up on me, no matter how much trouble I got into. That's the way Yuuji is. He gives second chances and wants to save everyone. That's a dangerous thing. Especially now. I hate not knowing where he is or what he's doing. I should be by his side and protect him, just like I promised him when we were little kids."

You can see a strange softness in Sukuna's eyes. He truly loves his brother. You can see that. It tugs at your heartstrings. Somehow seeing a tough guy like Sukuna talk so affectionately about someone hits you hard. A crass reminder that he isn't a heartless monster who goes through this world unbothered about what happens to others.

He has a heart, and he loves with that heart. Loves deeply with it from what it looks like.

Sukuna is worried about his little brother. He is worried and restless until he gets reunited with Yuuji again.

Before you know it, you reach out and place your hand on Sukuna's, giving it a reassuring squeeze before you intertwine your fingers with his.

"I hope we'll find your brother soon."

Thank you so much for reading!! I cried while writing the part about Sukuna's past. I am so weak for him!! I hope you enjoyed his little backstory and the party at the end of the world :) Please let me know what you think. Comments and reblogs make me happy!

Chapter 5

#sukuna x reader #sukuna fluff #sukuna smut #sukuna #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk fluff

[cherryflavoredvamp]

Halloween Party

Summary: you & Eddie Munson go to Steve Harrington's Halloween party where you decide to hook up in Steve's bedroom..chaos ensues

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Steve Harrington x Female reader

Warnings: Smut 18+, corruption kink, spanking, three way, blowjobs, face sitting, unprotected sex (don't do that, stay safe irl ily), eddie and steve makeout, eddie blows steve, multiple creampies, a lot of dirty kinky stuff sorry i was horny lol, oh and drinking and swearing obvi

Author's Note: I started this thinking it was going to be Eddie Munson x Female reader only, but as I wrote I couldn't help myself from being a slut for Steve Harrington as well as Eddie. Who can blame me though, they're hot. Enjoy, comment, reblog, like if you enjoyed this. I love hearing feedback from you guys seriously it makes my whole week<3

"Ok, I think I'm ready now," you exclaim falling onto Eddie's lap, twirling a strand of his hair between your fingers and watch it bounce back into a ringlet when you let go.

"I'm tempted to keep you here and not let you leave," Eddie squeezes you to his chest and shoves his face into your visible cleavage. He's practically motorboating you and mumbling, "why do you wanna go to a party anyways."

"What was that," you ask and Eddie rests his chin up on your chest to look up at you with his best puppy dog expression.

"Nothin', you wanna go to this thing so we're going," Eddie smiles at you, his face lighting up any time he looks at you would never get old.

"Babe, are you embarrassed of our costumes? I wanted a theme, maybe it's too much but I think it's cute," you ramble but Eddie stops you.

"Nah, of course I'm not embarrassed. You get to be my little angel, and I get to be the devil that corrupts you and shows you my sinister ways," Eddie smirks.

"Oh no, what ever will I do," you sigh dramatically, the idea of Eddie corrupting you turned you on way more than you cared to admit.

♡ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ♡

When the two of you arrived to the party, the first person you spotted was Steve. Or rather, Steve spotted you first.

"Hey," Steve yelled your name over the music. "I didn't know the two of you were a thing now. Hey man," Steve turned to Eddie and gave him a knowing look.

"Steve, we've been going out for almost a year. You knew that," you laugh and Eddie can't help but blush a little.

"Oh, I'm way behind I thought you two were just doing it," Steve blurts and immedietly you can see he regrets his choice of words. Eddie snorts and you giggle, Steve was at the level of drunk that wasn't overdoing it. But he was definitely at the floating stage, a light tipsy, or rather blurting stage for him. It was cute though, you and Eddie both were charmed by it, Steve didn't mean anything bad by it. It was adorable.

"Yeah well, I think I'll keep him. I wouldn't want to do it with anyone else," you poke Eddies side teasingly and the two boys blush at this.

Steve clears his throat, "that's good to know, but if you ever need a third, call me. I'm serious, and it's not just the alcohol talking, this is only my third drink," Steve says before walking away from the two of you in a confident drunk Steve stride.

"Wow," both you and Eddie say in unison and then bust out in a fit of giggles.

Eddie's staring at you, his eyes wide, "that was something, wow Harrington's feeling brave tonight."

"When isn't he, besides, you don't think he was serious do you," you question aloud.

"Baby, he was dead serious," Eddie assures you.

"How do you know?"

"I just fuckin' do, he means that shit," Eddie smirks, obviously flattered by Steve's advances. "We can talk about it later, if you want...," he lets out an awkward laugh and pulls you past the crowd by the entrance to the punch bowl in the kitchen.

You and Eddie down two red solo cups full of sugary fruit juice and what you conclude is vodka, then you two decide it's way too crowded downstairs and sneak upstairs.

"Do you think Steve will mind if I fuck you on his bed," Eddie says, only half joking.

"I think he'll get off thinking about it, if we decide to tell him that is," you say giggling. You felt a bit tipsy and practically fell on Steve's bed instead of sitting down gracefully like you originally intended.

"Woah, easy there, angel," Eddie hovers over you, locking you in with his arms. "I'm appalled actually, my little angel wants me to fuck her in our friend's bed? Naughty angel, I think I'm corrupting you for real."

"How dare you say that to me, I'm innocent," you cross your arms over your chest in fake protest.

"Maybe to the rest of the world, you have them fooled. All you want is to fuck the bad boy, you want me to corrupt you, don't you? You wanna be bad for me, and only me," Eddie traces his finger over your lips. Just when he thinks he has you in a trance you suck on his finger and Eddie's mouth drops in amazement at your boldness.

"You were saying...," you question him, a smartass tone lingering in your voice. "I haven't really been pure since I met you, all I think about is you fucking me until my legs shake."

For once, Eddie's speechless. You've never talked to him like this, no one had talked to him like this. That's what he liked about you though, you always found a way to surprise him just when he thought he knew everything there was to know about you.

"You're going to make me come in my pants if you keep talking like that," Eddie blurts aloud, barely able to contain his fascination with you.

"That's too bad, I was really looking forward to you coming in me. Oh well," you dramatically sigh and look into the distance.

"That's it, I'm punishing you," Eddie says moving to sit on the edge of the bed, patting his lap for emphasis. Eddie's mouth is curved into a familiar deviant smile.

You crawl into his lap, your ass on full display from your short white tutu skirt showcasing the white lace underwear you had picked out specifically for a moment like this.

"Jesus, fuck," Eddie curses under his breath, "you're going to be the death of me."

"Yeah, yeah, you say that all the time. Now get on with it," you sigh, provoking him a tad more to get him where you want him.

"That's it, I'm leaving marks," Eddie laughs to himself and swats your ass with a ringed hand. "Count for me."

"One," you count aloud, then a second one, "ow, two...fuck, three. Mmm four," even though it stings you cant help but gush from how hot this all was. You were full on moaning when you got to ten.

"You're so wet, you like this a little too much, don't you," Eddie whispers in your ear, his finger sliding down your slit through your panties. He's playing games with you now. You decide to start wiggling in his lap, "stay still, I'm not finished with you yet. I want to try something," Eddie flips you over, you rest your head on his thigh which was the perfect view of his hard cock through his tight jeans. Eddie pulls your knees apart, rips your underwear off, and starts spanking your pussy without much warning. He does it over and over, sometimes stopping to finger you.

"Ow," you wine on the tenth spank, closing your legs in weak protest. You liked it, there was no denying that, Eddie could see it all over your face. But still you say, "Eddie, you perv."

"Your perv," Eddie hisses forcing your legs apart, "don't hide from me, baby. I'm going to take care of you tonight," Eddie's fingers circle your clit and you wine. "Aw, that's so cute. Cry for me, angel. Go lay down on Steve's pillows for me," Eddie's voice is husky in your ear and you do what he says.

You back up until your back and head hit the pillows, Eddie's crawling up the bed towards you until your head hit the headboard and your lips meet. The kiss is desperate and sloppy, Eddie's moaning into your mouth and pulling at your hair. You pull back to suck on his neck, "mm," Eddie moans sinking two fingers into your wet pussy. When you stop kissing up Eddie's neck he kisses and bites at your lips like he's in a frenzy. By the time both of you are nude, your hips are pinned by his knees as he sucks on your breast.

"Oh my god," you hear come from the bedroom door followed by the door closing quickly. Your heart drops to your stomach and you and Eddie's heads whip to the side to see none other than Steve Harrington with his back against his bedroom door, he closed it out of panic someone else would see you two going at it on his bed. Eddie has a chesire grin spread across his face, the devil horn headband still on his head, the halo still on yours while your mouth is agape in horror. Steve had been your friend in high school, he tried asking you out several times but you were too scared he was a player so you never risked it. Sometimes you wished you had. But right now, you wished you could be invisible.

"Hi, Harrington. Take a picture, it'll last longer," Eddie teases, you swat his arm lightly with your hand and he laughs, unable to take his eyes off of Steve.

"I was trying to find you two actually, but if now's not a good time I can," Steve motions to the door but Eddie stops him entirely.

"Now's a perfect time, take a seat. It's your bed after all," Eddie says, he's getting a fucking kick out of this whole thing.

Your face is flush when you scoot up the bed, clutching one of Steve's pillows between your legs lengthwise so that it covers you. Eddie sits by your side and smirks at you, his dick is still hard and he's not making any attempt to hide that fact when Steve sits at the foot of the bed and clears his throat.

"So you said you wanted to find us, why," you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Well, I was going to ask you two if you wanted to come up to my room and chat. But I can see you've already found it," Steve snorts and takes a swig of his drink before standing up and setting it down on his night stand. He's above you and turns his head to the side, "Now's your chance to reject me for the 50th time, hit me with your best line. Tell me and I'll leave now, pretend I didn't see shit."

"I don't want you to leave," you reach for Steve's hand and plant a small kiss on the top. You can see Steve soften at the gesture, he sits down at your feet and looks at Eddie as if to ask for approval.

"Go for it, man. You heard her," Eddie nods to Steve.

Steve moves the pillow away from your body and stares at you in awe, "beautiful," he comments, licks his lips, then goes in for a kiss. It's a sweet kiss at first, Steve's cupping your face gently and tucking your hair behind your ear. And then he's sucking at your tongue and biting your bottom lip, pinching your nipples and you can feel his cock on your thigh.

Steve moves away to tear off his jacket and turn to Eddie, Eddie takes the hint and moves to kiss him. Eddie's raking his hands through Steve's hair, pushing him down onto the mattress for sloppy kisses. Steve's pulls his shirt over his head and throws it on the floor and Eddie smiles down at him, kissing down his chest until he gets to his crotch. Steve shimmies out of his pants in a heated rush, "eager, aren't we, Harrington," Eddie says grinding down on Steve's boxers, Steve moans and grips at your thigh.

"Sit on my face," Steve says pulling you closer to the two of them. You don't waste time and settle yourself on top of Steve's pretty face.

"Holy fuck," you hear Eddie from behind you while Steve sucks at your clit. You're grinding onto his face when you hear him moan, you look behind you to find Eddie's sucking Steve off while staring at the two of you. Eddie's humping the bed between Steve's legs, Steve's moaning into your pussy and it makes you tingle.

"Oh my god, fuck," you pull on Steve's hair, his eyes are closed in pure bliss. You grind your hips down onto Steve's mouth, moaning when he fucks your hole with his tongue. "Dirty boy," you pull on Steve's hair once more and you can swear he winks from beneath you, you giggle until that giggle turns into a full blown orgasm. You try to wiggle away, thinking that's all he wanted to give but Steve grips your thighs, begging you to stay seated. "If you insist," you giggle and sigh dreamily while Steve keeps sucking on your clit. Every once in a while he slips his tongue into your hole, just to taste you better and to make you squeal when he did.

"Ok, Harrington, sharing is caring let me get a taste, will you?" Eddie say, gripping onto Steve's knee with one hand, and his other on Steve's cock, shamelessly pumping away, while looking annoyed and amused at the same time. Eddie was like a kid in a candy store when it came to you, and to his dismay, so was Steve now that he got a taste of you.

You lift yourself off of Steve's face, sitting with your back to the headboard once more, preparing yourself for whatever Eddie had in mind. "Thank you," Eddie says hovering over Steve, planting a firm kiss on Steve's glossy lips, his mouth cherry red from the lipstick you were wearing. You didn't even notice both of the boy's lips were so red and smeared around the edges because of your lipstick, you crack a smile and now both Eddie and Steve are sitting up staring at you. It was sort of an unbelievable moment, you couldn't help but to internally laugh at how wild it all was.

"What're you smiling about, was I that good," Steve questions, running a hand through his hair.

You roll your eyes at him, "I just didn't know you were so naughty, Stevie."

Eddie laughs at this and licks his lips, "I think she's proud of herself for marking us," Eddie quips.

"Do I look pretty," Steve questions Eddie.

"Hot," Eddie comments and Steve blushes. "Now for you," Eddie crawls over to you, taking a seat next to you motioning for you to sit on his lap. You sink yourself on top of Eddie and rock back and forth, you feel a firm smack on your ass and turn to see Steve smirking at you.

"Pretty girl," Steve comments, pulling your hair back so that you look at him. He's sitting on his knees next to Eddie, "look at me while you fuck him, pretty girl," your mouth drops. He really was naughty, that was no fucking joke.

"God, Harrington, if you keep talking like that I'm not going to last long," Eddie bounces you on his cock by moving your ass in a speed that was so slow and delicious it felt like the earth moved while you looked into Steve's eyes while Eddie filled you up with his come. "Shit," Eddie curses then kisses your chest, then your lips, his cock still inside you. "Why'd you have to sound like a fuckin' porno, I was trying to keep my stamina, man."

You slide off of Eddie and into Steve's arms, "need to fill you up too, have to now," Steve looks at Eddie and winks. So he did wink earlier when he was eating you out, he's a little freak after all. Steve kisses and sucks on your neck, massaging your tits roughly.

"Ow," you protest and Steve chuckles laying you down gently at the foot of the bed where he sucks your tit, sinking his cock into you. He's fucking you at a rough pace while kissing you gently, his tongue never leaving your mouth while groping your tit with as much vigor as he'd done just a moment ago. You moan this time and you can feel Steve smile while he kisses you, knowing he got you to crave him finally, crave his touches and his kisses as well as him as a whole.

"Fuck," Steve moans into your ear, the way he fucked you roughly and desperately was enough to drive you over the edge, chasing another orgasm you scratch Steve's back. You dig the heel of your foot into his back, wanting him closer, deeper. "Baby, you're killin me, I'm going to fill you up. You look so pretty like this, all angelic and pure, I'm ruining you. I think we're corrupting our angel, Eddie."

"I'm trying to fuck the sin out of the both of you, is it working," you suck on Steve's neck, licking and sucking, driving him over the edge and off a cliff.

"Damn you, fuck," Steve groans into your ear as he fills you up. He leans back to examine what he and Eddie had accomplished, you felt like heaven to Eddie and Steve both.

"Christ," you hear Eddie exclaim, he hovers over you with Steve now, both of them proud of what they'd done. They made you see stars tonight, and while it was a bit overwhelming to have a new dynamic added to your relationship, it felt right, it felt exciting.

"Don't take the lord's name in vain, mister," you scold Eddie.

"I'll take you in vain any time I want," Eddie teases.

"You're wicked, the both of you," you tease back at the pair of them.

Yeah, Eddie Munson and Steve Harrington were wicked alright. But you didn't mind, an angel can afford to be bad sometimes, that is if they meet the right devils to show them how good wicked can feel.

#eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x yn #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x female reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x yn #steddie x reader #steddie x y/n #steddie x you #eddie munson x steve harrington x female reader #steve harrington x eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x steve harrington x you #eddie munson x steve harrington x y/n #my fanfics <3

[katyawriteswhump]

Bed of Roses (steddie love month, day 17)

For @steddielovemonth, Day 17 prompt: Love is about a hand reaching out to you so you don't get lost (@yournowheregirl ) Thank you <3

Rating: M. CW: prostitution, unwanted kink/abuse/pet-names (NOT between Steddie) alcoholism, substance abuse. Tags: rockstar Eddie, rent-boy Steve, make-up fic, angst, shameless perversion of Bon Jovi lyrics. WC: 2,000.

...

“'Cause a bottle of vodka's still lodged in my head…”

In his dressing room, pre-show, Eddie grasped his second bottle of vodka in an unsteady hand.

“…and some blonde gave me nightmares; I think that she’s still in my bed.”

This was NOT GOOD. Eddie had gotten sap-fest Bon Jovi lyrics slithering around his brain. He couldn’t for the life of him remember his own lyrics.

“Hey, Amigo,” he announced to the vodka. “I got a venue of ten thousand to entertain, and you’re literally my Obi-Wan—my only hope.” He caressed the bottle’s label. “80% proof, huh, Baby?” 

I’m serious, Eddie, you’ve had enough. You WANT to follow Kurt Cobain into the 27-Club?

Riiiight. That was not a Bon Jovi lyric. That sounded more like Steve Harrington, in sensible-parent mode, hands planted on his slender hips.

The tears struck fast. Eddie clonked the bottle onto the dressing table then followed it, pressing his heavy head to the glass.

He seriously didn’t want to die. However, he was so through with this life. Of any life, without Steve. The cavity where his heart once lay veered between grating emptiness and an unbearable pain. 

His fingers twitched toward the bottle. Screw it, the show must go on, and he’d lost his only light in the darkness…

“… as I dream about movies, they won't make of me when I'm dead.” 

That still wasn’t one of his own darn lyrics. In fact, he couldn’t remember a single goddamn word of any of Corroded Coffin’s songs.

A sharp knock on the dressing-room door had him squealing like a little piggy. An old guy poked his head in.

“Who the hell are you?”

“You hired me, Mr Munson. Dirk Gordon—Private Dick?” 

“Ah… Yeah, so I did.” Eddie’s rotten heart hammered way too fast. “Have you..?"

“Yes, Mr Munson. I believe I’ve found him.”

…

“What do you mean, you're not gonna pay me?” Steve wrapped his arms tight around himself. The only heating in his boss’s rundown office came from the guy’s endless chain of cigarettes. “I spent the whole evening simpering at that old dragon. You told me she liked music—I talked music endlessly.”

“You yammered on about some death-metal garbage. She likes Wagner.”

Steve wrinkled his nose. “What’s Wagner? That crusty old film-star?”

“Oh, Steve, Steve, Steve. What am I gonna do with you?” His boss sauntered around the desk and hooked an arm around him.

Jesus, you stink.

“You’re good-looking, kid, you’re charming, but you simply can’t cut it with that kind of high-end client.”

“She seemed happy.” Steve shrugged his shoulders, failing to shake the guy off him. “She paid you, right?”

“Not the full whack, and you got a fancy meal out of the bitch. Look, I’ll give you your cut, if you do better tonight.”

He squeezed the back of Steve’s neck. Steve tried not to shudder. When his boss produced a piece of paper and wedged it down the back of Steve’s skin-tight jeans, he stopped trying to hide his revulsion.

“Details are all there. He’s a banking exec, early forties—no more dinners and dances with Doris, you’re spending the night at his house.”

A dry lump clogged Steve’s throat. “Is he gonna want..?”

“Sex? Christ on a bike, what trade do you think you’re in?” He squeezed Steve’s butt.

“Jesus fu—” Steve bit his lip, fixed on his damp sneakers. 

“Believe me, Steve, your hair ain’t your best asset. You’re gonna have to sell that plump lil’ ass for real, sooner or later.”

Steve flinched, then schooled his features as blankly as he could. 

“This guy’s got a few kinks, but as Johns go, he’s a pussycat.” He lifted Steve’s drooping chin with his knuckles. “Show him what ya got, Sport.”

Steve couldn’t get out into the drab morning fast enough. He retrieved the paper from his underwear, shoved it in a pocket unread, then stumbled, zombie-like, into a diner. “Black coffee, please? It’s an emergency.” 

The waitress smiled. “You want breakfast, Steve?”

He shook his head, though his stomach grumbled.

He ended up slumped on the table, his face pillowed in his arms. Christ, ‘male escort’ had never seemed like a great idea, but he’d figured the pay would beat waiting tables. So how come he was still behind on his rent, and that he still couldn’t afford to eat some days, let alone buy his pain meds?

He muffled a miserable laugh in his elbow. He genuinely wished he could afford to get smashed, get high, because nothing could fill that gaping black hole of pain. Even worse, one of his fave Bon Jovi songs was playing on the radio, and SO not helping:

“Tonight I won't be alone, but you know that don't mean I'm not lonely.” Shit! He was fighting back dumbass tears already. “I got nothing to prove, for it’s you I’d die to defend.”

Why the hell did he run away? He can’t recall any reason that mattered anymore. “I’m sorry, Eddie,” he mumbled. “I miss you so much.”

Somebody touched his elbow, and he jolted up. “Sorry, hon,’” said the waitress, “we need this table for dine-in customers.”

“Right.” Steve swiped any tell-tale moisture from his cheekbones.  “I’ll clear outta your way.”

...

“Ready for playtime, Bunny Rabbit?”

Steve’s skin crawled, and his face burned. He’d gotten his head in the client’s lap, and the guy was playing with his hair. It would be tolerable, he guessed, if he’d not so often laid in Eddie’s lap like this, and… Christ, Eddie! Steve shut out the unwanted touching and began to drift. He was so beyond tired. And that song from the diner crept back:

“Now as you close your eyes, know I'll be thinking about you. While my mistress—she calls me to stand in her spotlight again…”

The pinch on his cheek startled Steve back to the present. “You kipping there, Bunny Rabbit?”

“Uh… er, sorry, Daddy.” Uuuuuuurgh! “Whatever you want, Daddy.” He dared sit up. “I’ll grab a condom and, uh… stuff.”

“Hey, hey, hey.” When Steve went to rise, his arm was grabbed, and he was held in place. “I don’t like rubbers, Cutie.”

“You heard of this thing called AIDS?” Dipshit!

Steve wrenched his arm free. The guy raised his hand and slapped him. Which wasn’t exactly out-of-the-blue, because face-slapping had been listed among this repellent son-of-a-bitch’s kinks.

“I’m paying top whack for you.” He leaned over Steve, suddenly kinda huge and scary, not least because Steve now saw double. “Your pimp said you were clean, so I’m gonna have you any way I like.”

“I… uh…” Steve kicked the bastard’s shin and shoved him hard. “Go to hell, asshole.” 

He fled out into the night, still dizzy from the blow. He pulled his mesh vest back on over his head. The icy wind bit, and he realised he’d left his only jacket behind.

“Jesus Christ! JESUS CHRIST!” He kicked a lamppost, holding back on venting the true force of his feelings. Still hurt.

He limped off up the street, fast as he could. The ache in his toes at least distracted him from the ringing in his ears. An hour later, he stumbled around the corner of his block, thinking only of throwing himself into his bed, while he still had one.

He was so close, when the hairs on the back of his neck stood suddenly on end. Through the haze of his exhaustion, he realised a car crawled up the gutter behind him.

Had Mr Happy-Slappy-Sleazebag come after him? Then again, Steve’s pursuer could be anybody. After all, he was walking through a red-light district, shivering his ass off.  Dressed like the whore I am. Hahaha!

The car pulled up right beside him. A blacked-out window rolled down.

Steve ran, turning sharp up a dark alley, then… Shit, shit, SHIT AGAIN! He was only a hundred yards from his digs, and yet he was so messed-up that he’d sprinted up a dead-end.

He nearly kicked the bricks. Instead, he punched them, as if that would blast through the solid wall. He turned about, bit his grazed fist, and sank slowly onto his haunches. 

Two figures approached up the alley, silhouetted against the lights of the street behind. Get up, Harrington! GET UP! His legs wouldn’t obey, and his breaths came only as rapid gasps. Nothing felt real anymore. Am I gonna die..? I’m gonna die!

A hand stretched out of the gloom.

Steve stared at it—at the familiar chunky silver rings, which couldn’t be real. He glanced up, and… wtf? It was Eddie, apart from it wasn’t Eddie. This dude looked more like Eddie’s ghost. Steve’s eyes fluttered closed.

Maybe I scored some Benzos after all, and totally ODd.

“Stevie?”

No mistaking that voice. If this was a trip, it was a good one. Steve pried an eye open, and Eddie’s hand was still there. Steve took it, let it help him to his feet, because… Why not? Suddenly, they were in each other’s arms, clasping each other tightly. This is real. You’re real!  Eddie reeked of booze, and also of something devastatingly comforting and familiar. Somebody’s wretched sobs shook through them both.

“I’m s-sorry.” Steve sounded broken. “I-I honestly don't know why I left anymore. I was such an idiot.”

“No. I was the idiot. I’m sorry, too. So very fucking sorry.” Eddie sniffed hard, lifted his tear stained cheek from Steve’s shoulder. “I’ve not been doing so good without you.”

Steve blinked the moisture from his vision. He wondered if he looked as wrecked as Eddie—red-eyed and waxy pale, under the distant glimmer of the streetlamps. Probably. If he hadn't leaned against Eddie, his legs would’ve given out again.

He laughed, without knowing why. Eddie laughed too, and it warmed Steve’s soul. “Gonna be honest, Eddie—not been doing so good without you, either.”

…

When Eddie got out of rehab, Steve waited on the steps of the clinic, hand stretched out to take his. He pulled Eddie close, and then into a sweet, lingering kiss that renewed Eddie more thoroughly than even a lengthy booze-free sleep.

“I’m never going through that again,” said Eddie, his lips still brushing against Steve’s.

Not least because I never ever want to be parted from you again, even for a fortnight.

“Yeah, but you’re dry, Eddie, and you’re alive. I’d say that’s goddamn metal of you.”

They started back to the car, hands still clasped tightly. “Not gonna take credit, Stevie. You’re what got me through.”

“You might’ve got me out of a fix, so we’re even.” Steve’s sigh rode on a wistful sadness. “I mean, I was so lost. Thinking of you was all that kept me… I dunno, alive, I guess. You know, I kept on thinking about that Bon Jovi song.”

“Uh, you know how I feel about Bon J—"

Too late. Steve burst into song: “Well, I'm so far away, each step that I take is on my way home. A king's ransom in dimes I'd give each night to see through this pay-phone—”

Eddie pressed fingers to his boyfriend’s parted lips. “As much as I hate cutting you off in your prime—two teensy-weensy issues. Firstly, I had no idea where you were, and you never called! Second, what’s wrong with my blood-and-death drenched lyrics?”

Steve took Eddie’s fingers and kissed them: “Hurt too much to think about them.”

“You know what, Sweetheart? Hurt too much to sing them, without you around. Even though none of them are actually love songs.” Eddie raised his gaze to the heavens, and looped his arms around Steve. “Go figure.”

“You sure they’re not love songs? C’mon—they’re all secretly about me, right? Only coded or something. I’ll crack it one day.”

Steve’s gently mocking smile destroyed him, in the best possible way. They tumbled into a French kiss, and he resigned himself willingly to the only thing that mattered: 

“And the truth is… Baby, you’re all that I need.”

...

Thanks for reading <3 Likes, comments and reblogs always much appreciated :)

(also part of my steve whump fic series on ao3).

#steddielovemonth #steddie #steddie fic #steddie fanfic #steve harrington #steve harrington whump #steve harrington x eddie munson #eddie munson #steve x eddie #rock star eddie munson #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things fanfic #steddie fanfiction #eddie x steve #steddie love month

[anabanana-romanova]

Because there has hardly been anything about Dmitri's backstory, I am now vomiting my ideas here

Deal with it

He's Jewish. Idk why specifically but it just fits... even if he's more culturally Jewish than religiously (my friend is like that) it just fits and also it makes a lot more sense as to why he really really hates Russia. I mean, the majority of people didn't like what Russia was but they still wanted improvement and they still had some respect for the culture and the land itself, Dmitri seems like he just wants to be done with the place because, yknow, Anti-Semitism. Also having Dmitri as Jewish gives a sharp contrast between imperial Vlad who was practically at the top of the food chain (almost) compared to Dmitri who was quite literally at the bottom. If history wanted Anya to live, wouldn't it be to bridge the gap between the two?

If Dmitri is Jewish his mother definitely died in the pogroms, which would have led his dad to be completely done with the autocracy and join the Bolsheviks.

Little Dmitri sharing a bunk in a cramped boarding house for factory workers where disease was rampant, the floor was dirt, he only had one outfit, worked for like 11 hours a day and hot paid virtually nothing. If you say I'm traumatizing it for ✨trauma✨, I'm being genuinely honest these were the working conditions in Russia at this time DO YOU SEE WHY THEY HAD A REVOLUTION-

Dmitri's dad inevitably getting arrested and Dmitri being sent to a horrible boys home that made him have a buzz cut for three years to avoid love and he runs away at 10, stealing half the money. Conveniently there is a huge crowd watching a parade of the Royal family go by *wink wink* in a crowd of thousands *wink*

Dmitri finding a bunch of older teenagers who take him in because he's really quick and young and can steal stuff really well. They also turn out to be rather avid Bolshevik supporters (can you see where I'm going here)

Dmitri at 12 having a well-established idea that middle and upper classes were horrible mean people who are exploiting the working classes for their own gain until he tries to steal from a merchant's shop and the merchant takes him into his home and the family feeds him. Dmitri asks why they're doing this and the merchant explains that in their religion, they believe that the most important thing one can do is to help and love and care for people because that's what Christ would do. "Even Jews?" "Of course. Christ was a Jew, wasn't He?" Dmitri realises that not all Christians are horrible people who want him dead

By the time he's in his mid-teens he's a full-on Bolshevik and is painting propaganda posters for them because he wants to help but he can't read or write because he had no education because 1. He was poor and 2. He was jewish: he wasn't allowed. Also, the Bolsheviks promised freedom for Jews and that made him really happy

Revolution happens and Dmitri begins to find flaws in the Bolshevik regime: there's still a secret police (The cheka: one of the boys he boards with is a member), there's still a whole heap of poverty and now families are still being arrested and sent to labour camps. He watches one get arrested and the little girl gets carted off to an orphanage somewhere and he realises that it's no different to what the tsar did except now they're arresting people who are "rich"

The merchant and his family were arrested. Dmitri cried.

Soon it's 1918 and the Cheka member he boards with comes back after being away for a couple of days, gets insanely drunk on vodka and starts gloating about the Romanovs in Yekateringburg in house arrest. Dmitri causally asks how they are. The Cheka member laughs and shoots him a nasty snarl. "They're dead. We shot them in their heads and bayonetted them til they stopped screaming." Dmitri thinks his heart has stopped beating because the youngest girl was was still a child, only a couple of years younger than him (I've reduced Anastasia's age because her being 27 during the musical feels weird) and she was one of the few people who smiled at him and treated him like a person. She wasn't bad. She was a child. He speaks out and the Cheka member pulls out his whip.

Dmitri runs away and gets a job at Putilov steelworks. He burns his arm in the first week but a lot of the men are nice enough to help him as he recovers.

Dmitri quits the Bolshevik party and starts implementing all the cons and thievery that he knows to thwart smaller plans and be a general nuisance to them. He saves a count from a firing squad who decides to follow him around for eternity, which is annoying. Dmitri tells the count absolutely nothing about his past because he doesn't want yet another person judging him.

He nearly gets caught by the Cheka and, after avoiding conscription for the civil war, is inevitably wanted by the government. He hides in the Yusopov palace by the Moika River. He can almost see the splendor Yusopov must have lived in

At night he dreams of buying a little cottage by the seaside (is the sea nice? Dmitri's never been, he wouldn't know) and there's a garden with millions of vibrant flowers and hot food and warm baths and a bed with a mattress and blankets and Dmitri lives contentedly forever. That's his dream. His dream requires a lot of money though. Money that he's never had.

Then he hears about the rumour regarding Anastasia. That she's alive and her grandmother, Maria Feodorovna, is waiting in Paris with 10 million roubles and Dmitri's eyes widen. It's the perfect opportunity to score some money, then he can run away to the French countryside and live in peace.

Then a girl with dark red hair and vivid blue eyes breaks into the palace and, well, you know the rest.

Also they don't go back to Russia at the end, that's the dumbestvidea ever, the go to countryside France by the seashore and get a cute little house with a massive garden full of flowers and every morning they go to the bakers and get a fresh loaf of warm bread.

#anastasia #anastasia headcanons #dimya #anastasiaromanov #anastasia movie #anastasia musical #dmitri #dimitri #dmitry

[morallyinept]

*Phone Rings. The Mandalorian theme.*

Hey D. How you doing, bud?... What? Whoa, slow down. You're rambling… You high? Okay. I think you'd better get over here… Just get here and then we can talk through it…

Get an Uber. You drive here and I'mma fustigate you. Okay. Yes, I have whiskey. And vodka. Yes and the strawberry sparkle face mask… and the peach shampoo. No, I don't have any tabs. No. Dude! Just get your ass over here! Okay. See you soon.

*Dieter finally arrives after three. Fucking. Hours.*

D! Where've you been? I was worried. God, you look like shit. Been on an epic bender, hmm? Looks like you need a good detox and a pamper sesh, my dude. Sound good?

Yeah… thought so. So let's get started, shall we?

Today, Dieter and I are going to give you some hints and tips for a good self-pampering session. This is all about indulging in YOU. Making yourself feel good on the outside, will contribute to how you feel on the inside. Especially if you've had a shitty day - or a string of them lately. We'll also put some fun links at the bottom of this post that you might like. Because we're just that awesome.

You're welcome. 🖤

They say beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and we're not here to give you a full make-over, babe. Nah, you're stunning as you are. Trust me.

Aren't they gorgeous, Dieter?

See? Told you.

But there are some little things you can do to feel more polished and shiny when you're feeling down in the dumps. When you make time to indulge in some self-pampering, it makes you feel good. It can instantly change and lift your mood when you're nice and clean and smelling like zingy lemons, isn't that right D?

Yeeeah… let's get you in the tub, buddy.

Yes, I have those scented candles you like. I know, I'm so good to you… Scooch forward. I'll wash your hair.

Cleanliness is next to Godliness.

You might have been festering in your own filth for a few days if you've been feeling really down. And that's perfectly okay. Sometimes you just gotta ride with it and wallow in your own crapulence for a bit. But now Dieter and I are here to kick your pert butt out of bed, to take off those gross pj's and to get you in the tub.

Dieter will even scrub your back, and anywhere else you, uh, need it.

Relaxing in a hot bubble bath feels fucking a-mah-zing, doesn't it? Oof. Hot water eases physical tension that you're holding onto, and also helps to relieve pain. Not only that, the steam opens up your pores so you can give your skin a good, deep cleanse. Add as many bath bombs as you like to the water, or hang some fresh eucalyptus bunches in your shower to get that spa-like effect. Even if you don't have that stuff, it's cool. Hot water alone will make you feel like a million bucks, dahlins.

Scrub, scrub, scrub.

Exfoliate. Scrub your body and your face to rid yourself of those dead skin cells. Then slather on some body butter or your favourite moisturiser. If you have a facial routine, now is a good time to do that too. Take your time and enjoy it, the sensations and scents... Dieter loves a good face mask. Strawberry scented with sparkles. You can't make this shit up.

Treat yourself the next time you have some spare cash to a good moisturiser. You don't have to spend loads of money on skincare products, but a decent moisturiser will see you right. It will also hydrate your skin, and if you've not been taking good care of yourself lately, your skin will be grateful for that moisture injection.

Hydrate. Eat. Relaaaax.

Speaking of wet - ahem - drink that water. All of it! Drinking water will also make you feel full, so you're less inclined to overeat and pick at those snacks you reach for when depressed. If you're anything like me, snacking, when you don't feel your best, is a vice. Drinking water will help to curb those cravings.

And it's also really amazing for your skin and body. Aim to drink at least 16 cups or 3.7 litres of water a day. Thank me later when your skin looks all dewy, you goddess you!

No, that's not water, Dieter. Sigh…

Eat something that you love. Now, I know I just mentioning snacking being a vice, but we're having a pamper night so you're allowed to indulge-

No, D. Not like that.

Give me those…

Treat yourself to some ice-cream, or your favourite dessert or savoury snack. And don't feel guilty about it either. Enjoy it. Lick the spoon. Have seconds. Plonk your face into it if you really want to. S'all good.

Engage in a hobby you like. Now is a good time to settle in and watch your favourite Pedro movie. Prospect, anyone?

What? Oh, sorry. Yes. I meant The Bubble… sorry D. 😬 Great. Now he's ranting about Ezra... Jealous much?

D, there is nothing going on between Ezra and I. I, uh, pinky swear. Yeah. 😬

Draw. Paint. Sew. Cook. Decoupage. Whatever it is you're into, do that for a bit. Sit and read a book you've been enjoying, or read some smutty fics (I've a whole list of them here for you to pick from if you want). Speaking of smutty…

Have a little wink, wink, nudge, nudge time.

If you have a partner, now might be a good time to jump their bones and-

Wha- D! What are you- Okay, wait… Oh. Ohhooh! That feels good actually. Yeah. Right there. Keep going.

Hang on guys, we'll be right back-

Okay… phew. 🥵 Sorry about that. Urm, where were we?

Ah yes. If you're single, you can still indulge in some schmexy times. Sex and masturbation are some of the most perfectly normal things in the world, and with them comes orgasms. And the best way to de-stress? Yep. You've guessed it. An orgasm. Deep. Fluttery. Tingly. Quick. Shuddery. Slippery. Leg twitching. However you like it, when you orgasm, your body releases the hormone oxytocin into the bloodstream. Oxytocin, typically known as the 'love' or 'cuddle' hormone, can decrease stress.

Masturbation causes dopamine; a chemical associated with pleasure, to be released into your body. Simply put, dopamine makes you feel oh so good, and puts you in a better mood. On top of that, the hormone oxytocin, which is released during orgasm, lowers cortisol levels. Cortisol is the main stress hormone, and is usually present in high levels in stressed out people. Touching yourself and climaxing can boost these chemicals and, in result, help you feel more at peace. So, babes. Go fuck yourself, in the nicest possible way. 😉

Sorry, we got a bit nerdy there, didn't we?

Oh, Dieter. The specs suit you. Maybe keep them on next time we… you know? 😏

Though, if you're anything like Dieter, then you don't really need to hear the science to use it as an excuse to hump, right?

Don't look at me like that, bud. You keep whipping that thing out it's going to fall off with the whiplash… I know, you just made me orgasm. I'm not knocking it, dude. Chill your gnarly crocs.

My point is, touch yourself peeps. Whip out those vibes, clit suckers and dildos and go to Pleasure Town. And if you don't already own any toys? Invest, baby. Trust me, a good vibrator will be your best friend when you're feeling blue.

Sleep is not the enemy.

Get a good night's sleep. Spray your pillow with some lavender oil, it's great for helping you drift off. Practise some meditation techniques before bed, about half an hour before you climb in the sheets to get you in that relaxed state. Deep meditative breathing will also relax you ready for sleep. Drinking some Camomile tea about an hour before might be nice too. But make sure it's caffeine-free otherwise you'll be counting dancing Dieters on the ceiling…

Ditch the guilt.

And finally, accept that it's okay to have days where you feel out of step. It's okay if you've neglected yourself a bit lately. You don't need to feel guilty; we all deal with things differently. Some of us punch it out at the gym, others hide under the bed for a week, eventually emerging like something out of a Japanese horror movie...

It's okay, D. We won't watch The Ring again, I promise... 🙄

But try to find your way back on the path to you. And spending some time on yourself can really help guide you there. There will always be those days that take their toll on you mentally and physically; whether that be from work, college, family and home life, or your own anxiety coming out to fuck with you for a while for shits n' giggles. Go at your own pace, and do what YOU need to do to keep moving forward, even if it feels slower than everyone else. Be a turtle, not a hare. Turtles are way cooler anyway.

You're a human being who was built to feel. These feelings will come, and they will go too. Remember that you're stronger than you think you are. Deep breaths. You've got this. 🖤

So D, how are you feeling now that we've pampered the fuck out of you today?

Wow! Look at you! Slaaaay girlfriend! See. I always know what makes you feel good, hmm?

Now, where did you put those specs, Mister? 😏

I hope that you enjoyed a good pampering session today with Dieter and I. Remember, self-care is important to your mental wellbeing. Do it as often as you need it. Do not feel guilty for having some YOU time. YOU come first. 🖤

👇🏻Here be the linkage:

More Self Care With Dieter & Jett

Pedro Pascal Feel Good Clip - Because Pedro ALWAYS makes you feel good, right?

100 Ways To De-stress - Some great ideas in here.

DIY Face Massage - Really great facial massage you can do at home.

Fancy A New Toy? - Don't click if you're offended by sex toys or underage.

As always, these wonderful Dieter GIFS were created by @a7estrellas @miguelo-hara & @uuuhshiny I have saved loads to my phone, so naturally I've now forgotten who else has made them, if any. 🤦🏻‍♀️ If you did, let me know so I can tag you. Also found through Pintrest/Google. Except for my shitty spec edit. That's all me, ha!

🖤

YOU. ARE. STRONGER. THAN. YOU. THINK.

Do you. Then Do Dieter.

More Dieter & Jett here

🖤

ℹ️ Dieter and I always strive to bring you unbiased, fact-checked advice. We're not licensed therapists, so we do a lot of research to ensure we can provide helpful and informative posts. Well, I do. Dieter mostly sits around eating KitKats.

#self care with dieter & jett #dieter bravo #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal #dieter bravo the bubble #self care #self love #jett has spoken #ezra prospect #do you #then do dieter #you are stronger than you think you are #dieter ezra & jett