#been slacking and then went on a hiatus and then-

[mitchellpete]

Kinktober Day 24 - Bondage

pairing: ethan hunt x f!reader

cw: bondage, oral sex (m receiving), overstimulation, penetrative sex, (does this count as creampie?)

word count: 2178

A/N: had to take a little hiatus but i came back to a million notifications so i’m glad to see that you guys are still reading these! sorry for the wait!

kinktober masterlist here.

18+ ONLY | MINORS DNI

-

“Do you know how easily I could get out of these?”

You groan just as a grin decorates Ethan’s face, a sparkle in his eye as he looks up at you from his place on the bed. You playfully roll your eyes, continuing your (poor) work on the knots binding his wrists. Ethan just plays along, humming to himself as he waits for you to finish. Quite impatiently, actually, with his hard-on prodding at the harsh material of his pants where you’d mouthed over the fabric. He wasn’t going to admit that, though, as this whole thing had been his idea the last time you’d had sex. A while ago now, since his duties usually kept you apart for weeks at a time. It was very unbearable, but the sex was worth the wait. It only ever got better, more exciting, more fun. 

“Get on top, come on,” he’d mumbled in a frivolous tone, his breath warm against your neck, hands hot against your skin.

“Oh, you want me in control?” You’d teased back, wriggling out from underneath him to comply at his request.

Ethan laid back, hands intertwined behind his head as you mounted his hips. “Mm, I do.” 

You’d snickered, poking fun at him, your hands running up his chest. “Maybe I’ll tie you up next time.”

Ethan groaned as you settled on top of him, your fingernails raking his pecs. “I’d let you.”

And let you, he did. You’re not even sure where the rope came from; it was already on the bedside table when you both tumbled into the room together in a heap of passion, lips locked and hands exploring each other hungrily. You’d gotten Ethan’s shirt off, your knees bending to lean down and mouth at his chest, down his sternum, tongue poking out against his abs. Ethan sucked in a breath, watched as your tongue traveled all along his waistline. On your haunches, you ran your hands up his clothed thighs, teasing him—giving him that little tingling feeling he always gave you when his touch teased at your inner thighs. He shuddered in response, and even more so when you leaned in to press your open mouth to the growing bulge in his pants. 

That didn’t get very far, however, and you watched in amusement as Ethan’s face went from slack to surprised when your hands shoved at his body, sending him towards the mattress. The back of his knees hit the edge of the bed and down he went, his forearms breaking his fall. He held himself up on them, a grin spreading his face as you stalked towards him in the sexiest way you could.

Anyway, that was then.

Now, you’ve got the knot secured. You’re pretty sure you did a terrible job, but despite his teasing, you know that he’s gonna let you have this. 

“All done,” you announce proudly, running your fingers along his bicep. 

You glance down at the sight of his widening smile, and lean down to help yourself to a wet kiss on his lips. Ethan kisses back eagerly, mouth hot and heavy against yours. He makes a little noise when you break apart, lifting his head to follow your lips until they’re out of his reach. He chuckles and closes his eyes, letting his head fall back in defeat, only to lift it again when he feels your hands working the button on his pants. You settle in between his legs, and, once the button is off, grab at the waistband of his pants to rid him of them. Ethan’s cock is poking through his boxers, and your mouth nearly waters at the thought of blowing him like this. You try taking your time though—try to make the experience worth it—and press feather light kisses all over the soft fabric. Ethan flinches, hips slightly jerking up for more.

“Easy there, Mr. Hunt,” you murmur, lips lightly sucking at the head of his cock through the material.

“I don’t think we mentioned any teasing.” He breathes out, licks his bottom lip and then bites down, hard.

“You can handle it,” you say through a grin, raking your fingers along the skin of his thighs again.

You strip him off his boxers eventually, pulling them down his legs and out of the way. You salivate at the sight of him, bare and flushed and tied up just for you. He’s fully hard against his stomach, nearly leaking at the brief feel of your lips. 

He notices you staring. “A bit overdressed, honey.”

You huff, trying not to smile, though you fail almost instantly. You back up and take your time slipping out of your clothes, intent on giving him a show. Ethan watches with hazy eyes, mouth slightly parted. He looks you up and down, takes in the sight of every part of you that he won’t be able to touch tonight. You watch the look cross his face and can’t help but giggle. “Hey, it was your idea.”

“I’m gonna get out of these,” he states matter-of-factly, tilting his head with a little smirk.

“Mm, I don’t think so,” you counter, stretching your legs out to slip out of your underwear. “You break free, this all stops.”

He scoffs playfully, his eyes hungrily raking your body. “I didn’t think you’d be so strict.”

With all your clothes on the floor, you crawl closer and reach to wrap a hand around his cock. You don’t break eye contact as you squeeze him a bit, thumb rubbing circles at the tip. You tease him there, moving your thumb all over the head, getting small, breathy groans out of him. You lean in momentarily to press a kiss there, and his abs clench in reaction, his wrists wriggling in the rope. You bite back a smirk, satisfied already.

Ethan’s lashes flutter when you finally get the wet heat of your mouth on his shaft. You angle your head, dragging the flat of your tongue along the long vein that runs on the side. He shudders, letting his head fall back every few seconds and then lifting it again to watch you. You never once break eye contact, your tongue dragging up and down his length in rhythmic strides. He mumbles something incoherent under his breath, fingers tapping on the headboard—the only thing his grip can reach. 

You pull off his cock with a loud slurping noise, fist tightly jerking him up and down where you’d left him extra lubricated. His abs tense again, much to your pleasure, and his hips twitch with every move of your fist. Watching him lose his composure, you take advantage; you lean down to wrap your mouth around the head, taking him in inch by inch while continuously stroking him down below. Ethan groans, loud, throwing his head back. The muscles in his arms visibly clench from his grip on the rope and it’s then that you feel the absence of his hands in your hair, how delicately he runs his fingers through it every time you blow him. 

The sight of him so restricted is very worth it though: face flushed, his cock red and dripping wet and deliciously hard in your mouth, miles of his pretty tan skin from your spot in between his legs. You watch his muscles tense, how his chin meets the heave of his chest every time he lifts his head again to watch you, eyes half-lidded and mouth hanging open in a silent moan.

Your throat constricts at the intrusion the deeper you take him in, and you hollow your cheeks around him with every up and down movement. Your palm is slick and messy around him, spit dripping onto your knuckles from your mouth’s work, which only helps you stroke him faster. 

You know he’s close from the small, repetitive sounds he’s making and, eager to get him there, release him from your mouth to stroke him furiously. It only lasts a couple of seconds, and you bite back a moan of your own at the sight of him spilling his cum all along his abs. 

“Fuck,” he groans, eyebrows pulled tight as his orgasm washes over him.

“Doing alright, Agent?” you murmur, thumb rubbing small, gentle circles around his throbbing length.

“So unfair,” he breathes out, wrapping his fingers around the rope binding him. His hips jerk again, this time from being slightly overstimulated by your touch.

You crawl on all fours above his body, reaching his mouth to kiss him. He leans up, eager again, his tongue slipping into your slick mouth. You let him lick into you, palms flat on either side of him, the heat of the kiss agitating the growing fire in the pit of your stomach. The desire for him coaxes your hips down, your wet, slick center meeting that same vein on Ethan’s shaft. You moan into his mouth, unable to resist grinding down, which gets a noise out of him too. You rock with him there, just a little, just to get him fully hard again. You remember you’re supposed to be taking your time but God, it already feels so good.

When his cock jerks up against you, hard and throbbing again, you pull off of his mouth; Ethan watches as you mount his hips, hovering above his dick to position it inside of you. You press your palms to his abs as you sink down, the split delicious and raw. You wipe at the cum on his skin, bringing it to your tongue—the whole show for him. You moan around your finger when you easily sink down all the way, and then run your slippery hands down your body to tease him. Situated against his balls, you clench around him, but you don’t move yet—you caress your collarbone first, and then your hands travel lower, palms rubbing over your hardened nipples. Ethan watches you in disbelief, yanking on both sides of the rope with serious force—it moves the both of you, a wave of pleasure washing over you. It’s that wave alone that gets you going; you realize you can’t hold off forever and that it doesn’t really matter how much you tease him because now you need it as much as he does.

You move your hips in small circles to start, and then start to move up and down—the small burn in your legs reminds you that Ethan’s arms being binded means that he can’t wrap them around you to help you, that you’ve gotta do all the work yourself this time. 

You start off slow, watching his face contort in pleasure as you pick up your pace. He continues yanking on the rope, even more so when you find a comfortable pace. You bounce against him, harsh, skin slapping noises meeting both of your moans. The position allows him in as deep as can be, the head of his cock meeting that delicious ache inside of you more and more with each passing second. After an agonizing minute, you decide to lean back, your palms flat behind you for leverage. He notices your shift, and his hips start jolting off the bed, messing up the pace quite a bit but it gives you a good break—he’s fucking into you eventually, hard and fast despite the absence of his arms. You bite back a giggle; he’s always had a good core. And fuck—his interception is almost enough to push you over the edge already—

No, no. Just a little more. He’s moaning like he was right before he came, and you decide to coax him into it with your words.

“Come on, baby, don’t you wanna touch me?” you ask, breathy and light.

He moans and it sounds something like a whine, his hips sputtering and losing their pace as he nears his second orgasm. Still sensitive from his first.

It all gets to be a bit too much when you start slamming your hips down to meet his thrusts, his cock feeling even deeper somehow—and that’s enough to set him over the edge. It’s not until you feel his hot spurts of cum inside you, and hear the sticky, wet noises of his thrusts fucking it deep inside you that your orgasm washes over you too. 

You nearly scream as it takes you, body going slack from the pleasure.

Ethan’s face is flushed pink, his cheeks warm from a second orgasm. A pretty sight, paired with the soft moans spilling from his mouth.

You climb off of him with shaky legs, body buzzing in the afterglow. You collapse on the mattress next to him, sight set on the ceiling as you try catching your breath.

“Give me.. Give me a second, baby, I’ll untie you.”

Ethan doesn’t reply, but you listen as his moans quiet down, and how his equally uneven breathing starts to slow.

When you sit up and turn to reach for the rope, Ethan’s already out of its grip, a cute smile spreading his cheeks and an innocent glint in his eye as he rubs at his wrist.

#one of my favs! #ethan hunt #ethan hunt x reader #kinktober 2023 #mission: impossible #mission: impossible fic #mission: impossible fanfic #* #tom cruise x reader

[vivalas-vega]

move on / jake ‘hangman’ seresin x reader / part two

I’m back !!! I took a little writing hiatus while I dealt w some personal stuff, hopefully not taking anymore writing breaks soon :) I decided I had more story to tell with these two -- lmk what you think!

move on / jake ‘hangman’ seresin x reader / part two

add yourself to my taglist

read part one

word count: 3.1k

warnings: some angst, some sadness, best friend rooster!!! (or maybe... 👀 hehe no I’m kidding, unless 👀) seriously we all deserve a roo in our lives. I’ve given reader a callsign in this one, meet birdy!!

The Hard Deck roared with life just as it usually did on a weekend, various Navy personnel and civilians alike celebrating the conclusion of another week but the chatter and music didn’t quite reach your ears as you sat sandwiched between Rooster and Bob nursing a lukewarm cider as your mind was somewhere entirely different. Somewhere softer and sweeter, a moment you had replayed probably a thousand times over the last two weeks. 

“Jake, I’m serious, cut it out!” you squealed, grabbing a pillow to defend yourself from his ruthless attacks but it was no use, it was tossed aside before you could even attempt to hit him as his fingers continued tickling into your sides and pulling giggles from your lips that were like music to his ears. They were so pure and unfiltered, a sound of amused joy though you were doing your best to convey otherwise. He finally rested, giving you a moment to catch your breath and he couldn’t help but chuckle as you immediately tensed below him feeling his hands snake across your waist to pull you closer.

“I come in peace, I promise.” he whispered into your hair, pressing kisses along your collarbone and you sighed in content. 

“You’re a pain in my ass,” your words were entirely convincing as he looked up to see the smile tugging at the corners of your mouth and you looked at him as if he’d hung all the stars in the sky.

“Yeah, but you love me anyways.” He continued kissing along the expanse of your exposed skin.

“Unfortunately.” Though it wasn’t unfortunate at all. He made his way up to your face, brushing your hair back that had been left awry after your unsuccessful attempts to squirm away from his attacks to lay kisses along your cheekbones.

“I love you too, Birdy.”

And then when you awoke, he was gone. No note, no trace, and your logical explanation had been he decided to hit the gym before meeting you on base. Something that happened so frequently you didn’t even question it as you went about your morning. Suspicion didn’t creep in until he wasn’t there in the locker room to greet you, no quip about you slacking on your workouts and leaving you in the dust, and certainly no teasing in your ear as you ran drills in the air all day. But this could be explained, right? When you arrived home and noticed that there were in fact some of his things missing, essential things like toothbrushes and his favorite tee shirts you thought something must have happened back home, an emergency that left him running to the airport without time to even wake you, he’d call you just as soon as he could to tell you everything… but that never came. So now here you were, two weeks later in the Hard Deck as you grappled with the fact that he wasn’t ever coming back. There was no explanation.

Rooster and Bob were having a silent conversation that you didn’t pick up on until suddenly Rooster’s hand on your knee broke you from your thoughts. “So uh, have you heard from Jake yet?” He grunted as Bob reached behind you to hit him in the arm, clearly that wasn’t what Bob had in mind when he encouraged him to engage you in some kind of conversation to get you out of your head… a place they both could only assume wasn’t really a good place to be right now.

“What do you think?” you replied, setting down your glass.

“I’m sorry.”

“No sense in apologizing for something you didn’t do, Rooster.” You got up rather suddenly, muttering something about the cider being useless as you went to seek out Penny at the bar who greeted you with a bright smile.

“Hey sweetheart, what can I get you?” 

“Something strong,” you sighed and she quickly rimmed a shot glass with salt before pouring top shelf tequila and topping it off with a lime wedge.

“Might as well be efficient, right?” You gave her a smile before throwing it back, welcoming the burn as it slid down your throat. The burn reminded you that you were in fact here and alive, and the alcohol coursing through your veins helped you return back to your old self even if only a little bit. Maverick watched with worry in his eyes, shooting Penny a look that she nodded away. Penny had been everything you needed her to be these last two weeks. She was no stranger to being left hanging by cocky flyboys, but what she wouldn’t tell you is what Jake had done far surpassed anything Maverick had ever pulled with her… at least Maverick would give her a heads up, even if only a brief email or phone call. This was something else entirely but she chose to ignore that, and showed up in all the right ways. She always poured exactly what you asked for, knowing the right moment to make you a mocktail with a drop of alcohol in the straw and she never asked you about anything you didn’t provide to her first. Everyone else walked on eggshells around you, not sure of how to act or what to say, and always somehow asked the wrong questions at the wrong times but you couldn’t even blame them. You knew they were trying their best and you don’t know what you would do if the roles were reversed. 

You returned to your friends, arranging the pool table for a new round and Coyote offered to play with you. You tried to hide your grimace, you felt bad for the cold shoulder you’d been giving him. It wasn’t Coyote’s fault, he was just as shocked as you had been but it didn’t change the fact that you knew he’d talked to him, knew where he was and maybe even knew the reason. They were facts that were difficult to reconcile but you gave him a forced smile anyways as Rooster made his way down to the bar to talk with Penny in hushed tones as he often found himself doing these days.

“I don’t want to hear it, Bradley, she’s fine.”

“She’s not fine, Penny. I’m honestly getting scared, she’s either here drinking herself half to death or she’s locked away in her room in the pitch black refusing to speak with anyone.”

“It’s been two weeks, she only really accepted things a few days ago. Give her time.” He looked over to see you lining up your shot as you leaned over the table, smiling as he saw a glimpse of the old you… someone so bright and vibrant, the life of every room you walked into, drawing people to you like moths to a flame. But it was extinguished just as soon as it appeared as you sank your ball and looked up to realize it wasn’t your usual opponent on the other side of the table.

“Cyclone and I talked about grounding her, she’s a risk to herself right now.”

“Do that and you might as well put the final nail in the coffin, Mav.” Penny said, sliding a glass down the bar and shaking her head as the two men looked at her horrified. “I’m serious. There were two things in this world that got Birdy out of bed: flying and Jake Seresin. She already lost one, don’t take away the other. Just give her time, things will turn around.”

But the thing was… they didn’t. Weeks turned into months and everyone watched as you became just a shell of the girl you once were, moments where your laughter would have rang out above everyone else’s were silent and bets amongst teammates were all but ignored. You were as good as you always were in the air, not wanting to give anyone any room to take something else away from you, though you were a little more ruthless. The first deployment had everyone on edge as you put yourself into danger within the first few minutes of the mission, pulling out unnecessary maneuvers that should have ended with you and your aircraft in a million little pieces, and you didn’t even get the reprimand everyone had been hoping for when you arrived back to base because it was that behavior that made the mission a success and you went without the reality check they desperately thought you needed. Nobody knew what to do, and even Penny had reached the point where she was starting to get a little concerned. At month seven there was a knock on your door in the late evening hours that quickened your pace and got your hopes up though logically you knew you would only be disappointed when you opened the door to reveal Rooster.

You wordlessly stepped aside to allow him in as you resumed your previous position on the couch. There was a glass of water in front of you and nothing playing on the TV and Rooster had to take a deep breath to calm his reaction to seeing you this way. He set a beer in front of you and flicked on ESPN to watch game highlights just as the two of you had done every night the last few months. Rooster was at a loss and was showing up in the only way he knew how to. His heart was completely broken seeing you this way, his best friend he once considered the strongest person he had ever met so thoroughly broken by Jake Seresin. It filled him with anger and made him sick to his stomach but he would never show you that. He would wait until you finished your beer, taking the empty bottle to the kitchen and turning off the TV and all of the lights, gently pulling you up and down the hall where the two of you would brush your teeth in your bathroom before he would help you into bed and take up his spot on the couch. Tonight was different though.

“Roo?” It was the first word you’d spoken since he arrived an hour ago and at first he thought he was imagining it as he pulled the covers over you but he knew he wasn’t once he saw you looking up expectantly at him.

“Yeah, Birdy?” 

“Can you uh… I’m sorry, nevermind.” You shook your head as you went to settle in but he placed a hand over yours, eager to do whatever it was you were about to ask of him. You hadn’t asked him or anyone else for anything since Jake had left and he was ready to chip away at this crack you had revealed to him.

“Come on, what is it?” he asked gently and when you looked back to him he could see the fine mist coating your eyes and sending pangs through his heart.

“Can you stay? I haven’t- I can’t sleep and I just… I really want to sleep.” Your voice broke on the last word and before his brain could fully catch up he was kicking off his jeans and sliding into the other side of the bed, careful to keep enough distance to not spook you but that was thrown to the wind when you reached for him. He was quick to pull you into his side and hold you as close as he could. You had dodged everyone's attempts at physical contact with you and he silently wondered when the last time you had this kind of comfort was. The realization it was likely the last night Jake was in this bed with you had him squeezing tighter. You wrapped an arm around him and nuzzled into his chest when he heard it, the sniffles you were trying to conceal.

“Birdy, please talk to me,” he whispered as he pressed a kiss to your forehead, “come on, you can’t keep bottling this up.” 

“That last night was perfect.” you said, and he stayed silent, deciding to let you get it out at your own pace and in your own time. “We spent the night with you guys at the bar, we came home and made terrible microwave nachos, and then we stumbled to bed and had sex, honestly really bad drunk giggly sex but that’s what made it good, and then we stayed up talking about nothing in particular. He told me he loved me and we fell asleep and then just like that he was gone. I mean, how do you go from that to vanishing into thin air?” You had never told anyone this, what happened that night when you two left had been a silent question of the entire group but no one wanted to ask you. Because you were right, the night had been perfect. Everyone had an amazing time at the bar and when you yelled out that you wanted nachos Jake was quick to sweep you off your feet and get you home so you could have them. Watching you leave they all thought to themselves they wanted something like that, they wanted the kind of love that flowed so generously between the two of you. 

“I wish I could tell you, Birdy.” he sighed, rubbing reassuring circles into your waist as your fist balled up the fabric of his shirt. He felt your frame begin to shake as you finally let out what you had been holding in this whole time, sobs wracking your body and Rooster just held on tight, whispering reassurances in your ear and telling you to let it all go. 

“I just don’t know why I wasn’t enough to make him stay,” you whimpered and Rooster’s heart cracked wide open. He shifted, sitting up slightly and pulling you with him as cradled your face and wiped the tears that showed no signs of stopping.

“No. Birdy, you are enough. You are everything and if he didn’t see that it has nothing to do with you and everything to do with him. This is not your failure, it’s his.” 

You shook your head, “I just… I keep replaying all these moments, trying to pinpoint where it went wrong, when he made his decision and I can’t- I can’t find it. There are supposed to be warning signs, it just doesn’t make sense.” Another sob overtook you and Rooster pulled you back in, letting you drape your weight across him and wishing he could do more. He adjusted the both of you back into a lying position and enveloped you in his arms, and when your sobs quieted and your breathing evened out he carefully snagged his phone from the nightstand and texted Maverick, telling him he finally got through and the two of you wouldn’t be on base tomorrow, he wanted to make sure you had plenty of time to catch up on sleep. 

Things did finally start getting better. Rooster took a mile with the inch you gave him and you spent your nights wrapped up under covers with him as you finally let him in and the days held glimpses of your old self. Smiles became more genuine, you weren’t as reckless in the air, and you even laughed at Fanboy’s dumb jokes once in a while. It wasn’t perfect, not by a longshot. Rooster held you tight each and every night so you could finally get the first peaceful sleep you’ve had in months, gently shaking you awake when a nightmare rattled your frame but night by night it got better. He eventually returned to his place on the couch, and then one day something changed and you didn’t need him in the house at all. Everyone knew you were still healing, still recovering but you had turned the corner. 

And when Jake suddenly reappeared at the Hard Deck just as suddenly as he had left you took it in stride. Everyone subtly watched as your two figures sat on the beach just beyond the window and waited for you to break, but that moment never came. When you returned and took Rooster’s beer from his hand they thought you would be angry, maybe at least cry, but you didn’t. You went right back to heckling Pheonix at the pool table as if it had never happened, but Rooster knew. When he drove you back to your place he sensed the silent turmoil waging a war on your mind, and walking into the foyer of your home you didn’t even need to ask. He followed you down the hall, where the pair of you settled into bed and you crawled into the arms that had grown to feel like a second home to you. 

“He said he was sorry,” you finally said, breaking the silence. 

“Do you believe him?”

You shrugged against him, “I don’t know. He said he still loves me.”

“Did he say why he left?”

“I didn’t ask.” You nuzzled your face further into his chest, eyes growing heavy as he rubbed your back.

“I’m really proud of you, Birdy.” You looked up at this, giving him a soft smile as he looked down at you.

“I don’t know if I’ve told you this or not, but thank you.”

“What for?” He raised an eyebrow at you.

“For this. For being here, for giving up several months of your life to constantly be here.”

“Nowhere else I’d be, Birdy.” You laid your head back down and absentmindedly rubbed your thumb along his chest.

“I promise you one day you won’t have to sleep at my place.”

“I mean it, Birdy, there’s nowhere else for me to be until you don’t need me here.”

“You’re my best friend, you know that?” 

“I’d sure hope so,” he chuckled and you laughed with him. “What are you going to do?”

“There’s not much I can do. He’s restationed with us so… I guess figure out how to coexist. I just… I don’t get it. He leaves, I don’t hear from him for a year, then he just shows up saying he’s back and that he still loves me.”

You felt him shake his head above you, “I don’t get it either, and don’t hurt me for saying this but I think you should talk to him.”

“Seriously? What happened to all that ‘him leaving is explanation enough and you don’t need him’ shit you’ve been telling me?”

“Seriously. I know you, Birdy, you can’t be around him without getting to the bottom of it. If you don’t ask him why he left, all the progress you’ve made the last few months is going to go out the window.” 

You sighed, “I know.”

“Plus, I’m fully invested right now, I also need to know.” he teased and you playfully swatted his chest.

“Go to sleep before I push you off this bed, Bradshaw.” you laughed. 

“Goodnight, Birdy.”

#jake hangman seresin x reader #Jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin x you #hangman #hangman x reader #jake seresin #jake seresin x you #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin x reader #top gun maverick #top gun fanfiction #rooster x bestfriend reader

[goldensstateofgrace]

Hugs and Kisses H.S

Masterlist | Tell me your thoughts  

A/n: this is gonna be apart of something fun so keep your eye out tomorrow!!

Summary: Y/n comes back from a trip and Harry wants a hug 

Warning: TOOTH ROTTING FLUFF 

Word Count: 1.1k 

I hope you enjoy! Happy reading <3 - G

“Can I have a hug?” Harry asks, looking so comfy in his hoodie and sweats, leaning against the doorway leading into the living room. 

You look over at him as you toe off your shoes by his front door, “Why?” you say, scrunching up your nose at him. 

“Why?” He asks, eyes wide and his mouth slack. His hands that were once down by his sides are now held out in a “Why’ motion. Almost like he couldn’t believe you’d ask that. 

“Because it’s been a year since I've seen you and I want a hug,” he says, like it was obvious. 

“God, you’re so dramatic,” you laugh, shaking your head at him. “It’s been two days Harry. Two days!” You hold up your hand, showing off the number two with your fingers. 

You had business in New York, dealing with a particularly stubborn client. You're a photographer, and you went to shoot a wedding. The bride wasn’t exactly happy with her last photographer, so you stepped in and offered to retake her bridal party and groomsmen pictures so she’d at least have some good pictures to remember her special day. 

It was all a big headache, but you got it done and she was happy in the end.

He just shrugs, looking like a sad puppy “Felt like it.” 

Then he shakes his head at you like you're the problem and says, “Stop distracting me, come here. Come hug me, right now,” He says, fake pouting. His finger pointed towards the ground right in front of him now. 

You watch as Harry crosses his arms over his hoodie covered chest and waits.

 When you don't move for a minute he starts tapping his foot looking at you, staring intently. 

 He’s a piece of work. 

Rolling your eyes, you fake huf to make it seem like you don’t want to when, in reality all you want is for him to wrap you in his arms and never let go. 

You give in and walk over and stop right in front of him, looking up you find his bright green eyes focused intently on your flushed face, or rather the bottom half of it.

Was he staring at your lips? 

No, he couldn’t be. Right?” 

“Well? Are you going to give me my hug?” Harry asks, finally looking right into your eyes. A small smile playing on his lips. 

He holds out his arms, waiting patiently for you to hug him. 

And you do, you hug him, wrapping your arms around his waist as his arms go around your shoulders. Your head rests right over his heart, and you can hear the fast pace of it beating loudly in your ear. 

Is he nervous? 

Why is his heart beating so fast?

God he’s so warm, you never want to let go. 

“I missed you,” you whisper into his chest, tightening your arms around him. 

“I missed you too, love.” 

You love it when he calls you that, makes you all warm and fuzzy inside. Like maybe, just maybe he likes you more than he lets on. 

Turning your head up, you rest your chin on his sternum gazing up at his stubble covered tan face. 

God he looked beautiful. 

You and Harry met during his One Direction days when he came home to England to celebrate his mothers wedding. You were a newer (amateur) photographer just trying to make a bit of money to put yourself through college. 

You guys hit it off right off the bat, you couldn’t believe how nice and warm he was. Not that he wouldn’t be knowing Anne but you could only imagine what living in the spotlight would do to a person's ego. 

He was funny, whenever you’d be taking pictures of him he’d always make a face or strike a pose. 

 You could remember making conversation with him and completely freaking out inside trying desperately to not show it. If he had noticed, he never said anything. 

He was probably used to it by that point. 

You both eventually crossed paths again when you were hired to shoot with the band for promo for their last album before hiatus. 

You guys caught up and have been best friends ever since. 

You couldn’t remember the exact day you fell in love with him but you could remember the day you realized it. 

Harry had just come off stage of his first solo album tour, you were backstage waiting for him. You watched as he came down the stairs backstage and made a direct line towards you, not paying a lick of attention to anyone else. 

He hugged you breathless, his huge smile on his face. 

He didn’t let go until you patted his back, needing him to ease up just a bit. When he pulled back he just smiled down at you, his hands on your cheeks, his thumb slowly stroking your cheekbone. 

You just stared up at him and you could feel this love wash over you, and you just knew. He was your person, and it didn’t matter if he felt the same. You’d love him from a distance just to be around him. 

“What is it?” He mutters, looking down at you. 

You shake your head slowly, still just looking up at him. A smile spreads across your lips, “I can’t believe you’re real.”  

When you realize what you said, your eyes go wide and you pull back from him. 

“Like, you know,” You chuckle awkwardly. “Because you're my best friend, and, and you're a famous singer and I'm no one, really. I can’t believe you even want me arou-” 

He cuts you off with his hands touching your cheeks and his lips encasing yours. 

You stand there shocked, your hands frozen in the air. 

Harry’s lips are soft in yours. He pecks your lips once before going in again and slowly kissing you. He eases you into it, his top lip catching between both of yours before he nips at your bottom lip. 

Once the shock of the kiss slightly wears off, you kiss him back. Your hands come up to rest on his forearms where his hands rest on your cheeks. Your lips take his, your tongue peeking out and running across his bottom one. 

Harry opens his lips and lets you take control for a minute before coming in and running his tongue over yours, before pecking you twice and pulling back. 

“Why’d you do that?” you ask, staring up at him, wide eyed and confused. Your chest heaves trying to catch your breath and your lips tingle from the way he kissed you with such passion. 

“Because you wouldn’t shut up.” He says like it was obvious, smiling cheekily. 

“You do that often?” you say more jokingly than a question, raising your eyebrow as you look up at him. 

He shakes his head, a chuckle falling from his pink lips, “Only with you.” 

As you go to say something, he just shakes his head and places his hands on your cheeks pulling you up to his mouth and whispering, “shut up, and kiss me.” 

Taglist ( join HERE) 

@hazelhearts @randomwriter1021 @marlananicole17 @whoreforthecullens @hc-geralt-23 @afuckenslutforharrybro @writingintheroses @wiiildflowerrr @thisismynerdyself @hufflepuffhaze @lonelyheart5 @xoxokiaraaxoxo @kenzie-kay2-blog @yvngmari @myfavfanficsever @onlyangel-kz @cuddleluv @Sophiawithanph @lovegiven @theshyspy @ready-4-fanfiction @michellekstyles @swiftmendeshoran @malwtilda @amayatheowl @lukesaprince @thesadstoryofme @watchyourbluesturngolden @reveriehs​ @lomllover​ @stylessupremacy @alittletaste

#harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles writing #harry styles fluff #harry styles fluff fic #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry fluff #harry fanfic #harry fanfiction #fluffrry #gracewrites

[hottpinkpenguin]

The Way of Winter - Chapter 6

Joel Miller series Female reader insert

A/n: takes place at the end of episode 6 (spoilers if you haven't seen!). I took a few liberties with the location. Took a (suuuuper) long hiatus - but I'm back!

Taglist (Since it's been so long, if anyone doesn't want to be tagged anymore pls let me know!): @missdragon-1 @this--is--music @caravelofthesun @ishouldclean @mezmerwrites @babypeapoddd @ay0nha @tpwkstiles @one-sweet-gubler @coolninjavoid @ameliabs-world @superflymaterial @p-muffin @s1xthirty @flightlexsbird @nataliemdixon @krisviciousx @notsosecretspy @freerangesweets @partyofone3413 @angelfxll @bojana-aa04

Word count: 1,662 | Tags: slow burn | Warnings: graphic descriptions of gore, reader getting shot, cursing

Joel watched y/n as she methodically cut away the scales and took out the innards of the six fresh trout she’d caught for dinner. Her hands were red and raw from the ice cold water, but she moved with a confidence and dexterity that impressed Joel, against himself.

It had been three days since Joel had begrudgingly agreed to trust Ellie and let this stranger lead them deeper into the woods. She hadn’t spoken to either of them since. Joel vacillated between irritation, mistrust, and antipathy towards her. Ellie seemed more inclined towards pity. She’d attempted to speak to y/n on several occasions, but was never met with anything more than a contemptuous stare. The silent treatment was grating on his already haggard nerves. Between her self-indulgent petulance and the near-constant throbbing of his stitches, Joel was ready to snap. And tonight was as good as any for a fight, he thought darkly. 

“How long do you mean not to talk to us?” he demanded. Although she didn’t look up from her task, Joel didn’t miss the way her movements got sharper when he spoke. He was under her skin. Good, he thought. If I can bother her, I can break her.

“You’re not the only person who’s lost someone, you know.” Joel pressed forward. Ellie had stopped tending to the fire in favor of shooting him warning glances. Joel knew that Ellie saw y/n as their only shot at surviving in this wintry wasteland. She wasn’t wrong, of course. But Joel Miller was too proud to let anyone - especially y/n - lord that over him. 

“It’s pretty fucking pathetic, actually,” he went on, adding a little extra acid to his words. “Sounds like you didn’t even try and save your family that you apparently gave such a big shit about.”

Joel didn’t even see the knife leave her hand, didn’t see it streak through the air or bury itself in his foot. In fact, Joel found himself regarding the knife curiously for a heartbeat before his brain even registered pain. In that heartbeat, y/n had risen from her crouched position on the side of the icy mountain stream and was striding over towards him, murder in her eyes. 

“Jesus Christ, y/n, no!” Ellie was small compared to y/n - scrappy and tenacious, but too small. She flung herself impotently into y/n’s path, but y/n shoved her aside easily. 

“What the fuck did you say to me, you motherfucker!” Y/n’s scream was hoarse, like she’d been yelling for hours on end. In spite of himself, Joel laughed. At least she’s talking, he thought with glum satisfaction as he felt hot blood pooling in his boot from where her knife had sunk into his arch. The fire in her eyes blazed all the harder, and she threw herself down on top of Joel. Her hands closed around his throat like a vice, ice cold and deathly strong. Joel struck out with his fists, aiming for the sides of her head. He landed three heavy blows, and with each one her grip strength waned a bit. With the fourth slam, Joel felt her hands completely slack off his throat as she pitched sideways. Ellie had regained her footing and had climbed on y/n’s back, shrieking like a banshee as she tore at y/n’s hair, neck and shoulders. As if in slow motion, Joel watched as y/n turned 180 degrees and threw herself backwards against the ground, slamming Ellie’s back on the frozen earth. Ellie let out an ugly, strangled grunt, her eyes widening in pain and shock. Her arms went slack around y/n’s shoulders as she gasped silently, trying to force air back into her lungs.

Everything froze in suspended motion. Joel saw y/n’s expression soften as she surfaced from her rage-fueled outburst. She stared down at Ellie with a look of disbelief and horror as the girl writhed in the snow, her hands clawing futilely at her throat. Her face was turning a deep shade of crimson as she continued to fight for breath. 

“Fuck, no no no no no.” Y/n was kneeling next to Ellie, hands visibly shaking as they covered her mouth in horror. Joel’s mind felt like it ground to a halt, the satisfaction he’d felt moments before at successfully breaking y/n out of her reverie vanishing into smoke. Without thinking, Joel reached for the gun in his waistband, leveling it at y/n’s chest and squeezed the trigger. The gunshot ripped open the woods. It was still echoing off the trees when y/n collapsed on the ground and Ellie sucked in a greedy, gasping breath…

******

“Jesus fucking Christ, Joel, you killed her.” Your mind was fraying at the seams. The moments around you weren’t making sense. You couldn’t find the thread that tied them all together. 

You felt a blazing, fiery pain in your chest. It spread up one side of your neck, down one of your arms, and radiated throughout your torso. Each inhale and exhale made it worse, agony searing through your veins like wildfire.

Hands on you. Small hands on your cheeks. Warm hands. Your cheeks felt cold, your face felt cold. Clammy. 

Then, there were bigger hands. Meaty hands, pressing down on that fire-blasted hole in your chest. You shrieked at the pain, but you were surprised to find your voice choked and drowning. You gurgled in pain, begging. “Please please please please.”

“It’s alright, y/n, we’re here.” A young voice. Girl. Your eyes slipped in and out of focus.

Treetops, high above you. Dark, bare branches against a slate-gray sky. Snowflakes.

“She’s losing too much blood, Ellie. It’s no good.”

“We’ll fucking die out here, Joel!”

More pain, more pressure on your chest. The pain was white hot, but somehow fading at the edges. Like you were pulling away from it. 

“I can’t unfuck this, Ellie!”

“You fucking KILLED her!”

Your veins weren’t burning anymore. They were freezing. Ice in your body. Running through your arms, your neck, your eyes, your legs. Tiny, shallow breaths. In and out of your nose. The sky above you beginning to darken. 

“She almost killed you-”

“Joel, if she fucking dies out here so do we!”

Quiet. Three sets of breathing. Two ragged and deep with rage. One - yours - panting. 

“Christ…”

A face above you. Dark eyes, salt and pepper hair. You recognized it.

“Y/n?! Can you hear me?” 

Your vision began to drift. You couldn’t keep your eyes focused on the face. 

Footsteps. Moving away from you. 

“What are you doing?”

Silence.

“Ellie, goddamnit, wha-”

“She’s bleeding out. We need to cauterize the wound.”

“The bullet’s still in there.”

More quiet. Darkness pulling in over you like a curtain. Your lips felt cold.

“If you cauterize the wound with the bu-”

“You got any fucking better ideas?!”

Inhale. Quiet. 

******

Joel’s heart made a sickening twist in his chest as he watched y/n’s eyes loll back in her head. The dark stains of blood on face and neck contrasted garishly with the whitish-blue tint of her skin. Joel had seen plenty of people die, and more than a few of those had died by his hands. But y/n was going down hard. Stubborn bitch, he thought to himself with nauseous guilt. Can’t even die easy. 

Behind him, Ellie rose from the campfire, striding over with a frying pan. For a moment, Joel didn’t comprehend what she was doing. He just stared at her, dumbfounded.

“Pull her jacket back for fuck’s sake!” 

“A frying pan, Ellie, are you serious?” 

“It’s the only thing that’s hot enough, just fucking do it!” Joel’s hands shook as he lifted his hands off y/n’s bullet wound, a fresh torrent of blood seeping out without the pressure of his body weight to staunch the opening. That’s a good sign, he thought idly as his hands ripped back the layers of dirty clothing to reveal y/n’s bare, bloody chest. Heart hasn’t stopped pumping yet.

Ellie hesitated only momentarily, her face turning green before she laid the sidewall of the frying pan against y/n’s wound with a gut-wrenching sizzle. Joel swallowed down a wave of vomit as the horrid smell of burning flesh ripped through his nostrils. Y/n stirred only slightly at first, but after a moment her eyes popped open and she convulsed, letting out a weak wail of confused pain. Joel was quick enough to grab her hands before they reflexively batted away the hot frying pan. She mewled in protest, eyes rolling aimlessly, not seeing anything. 

“That’s enough, Ellie.” Ellie pulled the frying pan off, tossing it aside and bending over to empty the contents of her stomach on the snow. Y/n went slack under him, and Joel felt himself come down from the adrenaline high with a vicious crash. His breathing was heavy, chest heaving with each inhale. He hung his head, weak with dying fury and bone-crushing guilt. Ellie crumpled into a seat on the snow beside him. 

Joel didn’t know how long the three of them stayed there in that clearing. Y/n was unconscious, but alive. The barely-there rise and fall of her blood-coated chest confirmed that much. How she’d survived, Joel had no idea. He could only guess that the bullet had missed the lungs and the heart by mere millimeters. Maybe, with all the tussling she’d been doing with Ellie, she’d moved just enough to throw off his aim. Try as he might to deny it, Joel had been aiming to kill. Acting on reflex. Protecting Ellie.

Or maybe he’d flinched at the last moment. Maybe, even though his reflexes said kill, some part of him said save. Because one thing became clear as day to Joel Miller as he sat in that bloody snowbank, twilight sinking over the frozen forest:

If y/n died, Joel Miller would never get over it.

**more chapters coming soon! let me know if you'd like to be tagged (or untagged) if you like this series, check out my Last of Us masterlist for other works

#joel miller #joel miller the last of us #joel miller last of us #joel miller x reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x you #joel miller pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal x you #way of winter series #last of us fic #the last of us imagine #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us

[yuniemaki]

tagged by @cadriona you have all my love and undying support, even should i become an undead i will come back to bang on your doors so you'll finish your UNFINISHED WORKS.

how many works do you have on ao3?

39, I don't know what are anon'ed works, lalala

2. what's your total ao3 word count?

492,719

3. what fandoms do you write for?

Genshin... once upon a time in the ff.net days I wrote for Dragon Age, Claymore, Air Gear and Skyrim/Oblivion too, but these days a certain lesbian couple from Genshin lives rent-free in my head, y'know?

4. what are your top 5 fics by kudos?

BY KUDOS??? 😭 1. Dancing in circles 2. Trust in the stars 3. a gift from the stars 4. Welcome back, my Captain 5. Even if it's selfish, I still want you to stay

5. do you respond to comments?

Yes I love all comments they make me squeal because wow someone found my shit in a sea of food and went, "damn I'm gonna talk to the person who pooped this shit out!" I'm honoured. Work sometimes makes me slow but I read every comment and spend way too long thinking about how I should respond HELP

6. what is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I... I don't do angsty endings... there is a fic with one, but it's currently locked because it's for a zine. I'll share when it's out :P

7. what's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

THAT'S EVERYTHING HELLO. ANGST WITH HAPPY ENDING MY BELOVED

8. do you get hate on fics?

probably, but I don't see it, so eh ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

9. do you write smut? if so, what kind?

you do not ask yunie what smut she writes.

10. do you write crossovers? what's the craziest one you've written?

i hardly write crossovers... it's enough trouble to make sure my ideas are potentially canon-compliant, nevermind making sure they could be accepted as canon for TWO universes. I wrote one for Skyrim x Genshin though. beiguang but dark brotherhood x pirate. :D

11. have you ever had a fic stolen?

naur i'm not that amazing

12. have you ever had a fic translated?

sadly nope tho i would be honoured

13. have you ever co-written a fic before?

nope, i've done that plenty in classes and am honestly not a fan, but i'm sure it works for people who are very in-tune!

14. what's your all time favourite ship?

beiguang. my beloved. they pulled out 500k words from me and still counting after a 10-year hiatus. amazing

15. what's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

one that's been sitting in the pile for a while... about ningguang faking her death and beidou finding out like a year later. no, i don't have anything beyond that line :(

16. what are your writing strengths?

i think i write dialogue pretty well

17. what are your writing weaknesses?

i'm often too lazy to edit, and i slack a lot on descriptions because... yeah, i'm too lazy for my own good. :/ i can also get really impatient with longer fics like i'll get angry that i'm not at the scene i really want to write, count the number of chapters i still have to do to reach there, then close the doc in rage.

18. thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

i don't really like it, because it's kinda immersion-breaking for me. i prefer to write it all in english but state that the character is speaking in xxx language instead

19. first fandom you wrote for?

Claymore, with OCs!

20. favorite fic you've written?

beiguang mafia au with their version of a happy ending. I love my beiguang twisted, obsessive and somewhat toxic

tagging @canonical-transformation, @aurilium, @mireillexy, @dreamerinsilico @asharinhun, @narcoticwriter and anyone else who wants to answer! OPEN TAG!

#writing games

[mi6-cafe]

Eastern Hemisphere readalong is back!

Eastern Readalong is resuming this Saturday at 9 AM GMT! Do let me know if you're joining and whether you'd prefer the same time on Sunday instead in the long run. I ask you to be patient and let me know all your criticisms while I reintroduce this event.

As opposed to the Long–fic Readalong, we will be reading works under 2.5k, which I know have been in high demand ever since Eastern Readalong went on hiatus. I'm still adding works to our list for this Saturday but if you've got a recommendation under 2.5k feel free to add it here: https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1q8PhGvrf5u18nemOK0ELnF_asE_5MLsRrCxuc2ec3Gg/edit#gid=0

If you're interested in co-hosting, please send me a pm either on slack or discord (oldestcharm).

While the current plan is to reintroduce the schedule we might miss a few weekends here and there. I will post a notification on the slack eastern_hemisphere_eventorg channel and tag everyone with the Eastern Readalong discord role a few days before the event.

Hopefully, as time goes on and we settle on a suitable schedule, we can speed things up a bit.

For the time being, I fully commit to readalongs for every weekend of 007 Fest. Going into August and September we'll be on a regular schedule.

Thank you everyone and join me this weekend if you can!

— Charm ❤️

#mi6 cafe community #eastern readalong #We will do our best to promote this on tumblr #but mostly look for announcements from Charm on discord and slack

[aesopsbaby]

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫(s): Vampire!Lo , Werewolf!Meztli (Monster AU)

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: After a hunt, Meztli wants nothing more than to be pampered by his Vampire. However, that quickly changes when he meets eye to eye with a replica of his beloved.

𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: EYYY!! I'm back! Sort of,,, I'm trying to get the prizes all out and I'm terribly sorry for going on a hiatus all of a sudden </33 I swear I'm working on alot of projects right now,, but no worries as I promise the winners will all receive their prizes soon! (Hopefully-) anyways~~ I hope you'll enjoy this!!

Ah,,,I really should get a beta reader because this has not been proof read so expect some grammar mistakes!!

1/5 Prize winner: @feelin-lo !

The night was peaceful. With the wind blowing softly, trees in the darkness rustling gently and the soft footfalls of animals scattering away whenever he steps on a branch.

Looking up at the moon, shining ever so brightly, he feels the corner of his lips lifted into a grin. Bringing his hand up, he wipes off the deep red staining his lips and face, however, still leaving a considerable amount behind. Not that he cares, he never did. But he did want to make himself look at least presentable before returning, to the embrace of warmth and comfort. To his home. His Lo.

Meztli reaches the front of the mansion, the tension long gone from his body after his hunt. Placing his hand on the shiny gold knob, he halts in his movements, eyes narrowing in a pensive way at the knob as the moonlight reflection bounced off of it. Meztli feels a growl bubbling up in his throat instinctively, his tips of his ears twitching slightly.

The tension came crawling back into his system, along with a sense of dread that ate him up slowly from within.

It felt as if this wasn't the same house he knew- No. No, it definitely is still the same house..- But, why was it that he could feel an impending and intense energy coming off the now foreign object in his trembling hold?

Voices. Meztli picked up on a distinctive muffled noise.

...

On..multiple voices? Meztli furrowed his eyebrows with confusion before his pupils contracted into tiny slits at the thought of a potential threat in there with Lo.

His eyes flickered with anger suddenly and all fear dissipated from him, now with a new found confidence, his grip loosen from the doorknob. Taking a couple of steps and backing away from the door, Meztli raised his leg, now opting to crash down the door. He feels a smirk tugging on his lips, bearing his white canines that are slightly stained red.

"Oh? Why don't we ask him right now then?"

At that moment, the door flung open with so much force that the hinges creaked violently. It wouldn't be a surprise if the door is now broken. The force on the action sent a gust of wind in Meztli's direction, causing him to plant his feet down instantly while raising both his arms to shield his face.

Meztli's ears were ringing, he muttered a string of curses under his breath at the sudden outburst, finally looking up after he came down from the adrenaline.

Meztli's smirk from before fell from his face, his jaw went slack as his eyes laid upon two figures.

Lo and...Lo..?

No that's not right..

He was taken aback by an unexpected sight. Standing before him was his beloved, but something was amiss. Meztli's eyes widened in disbelief as he realized that standing beside Lo was an exact replica with a sinister aura.

Confusion and tension filled the air as both males turned to look at Meztli. Meztli felt his breath hitched when he locked eyes with the shorter haired twin.

The atmosphere grew tense, almost suffocating.

"Leave him out of this. This is between us." Lo spat, glaring at the other, although having a slight tremble in his voice.

A guttural and loud laugh came from the "twin". He wipes away at fake tears in an attempt an a comedic gesture to taunt Lo. "Oh? And why should I?" He steps towards Lo, a smirk painted on his lips and his half-lided eyes soaked in his terrified expression that he kept well hidden.

"What?" He snickered. "Afraid that our darling will choose me--"

Lo scoffed, cutting him off,

"He's not "our's".. He's not "yours"! And hell, Meztli will never be yours, Master."

Master stared at him, anger swirled in his eyes at being cut off. "You have alot of nerve for someone so..weak." He smirked at him with a curt laugh, causing Lo to ball up his fists.

Their voices clashed with each other, causing Meztli to take a stumbling step back with a clenched jaw, still unable to comprehend the sight displayed infront of him.

As they continued to argue, their voices echoing through the room. Meztli found himself caught in the middle of this unexpected rivalry, torn between the two versions of his beloved.

As the argument escalated, Meztli's emotions swirled within him. He yearned for the love and companionship he once shared with Lo, but now it seemed clouded by this unsettling presence.

Would it be considered bad if he hated the other version of Lo? He despised Master, how he's currently bringing Lo down with his words and how he acted completely different from his love.

Meztli swallowed the lump in his throat, his ears went down, letting the voices drown out as he stared at Master.

..no that wasn't mainly the reason why he hated him so much. Meztli realized with a sour taste on his tongue that the main reason he had this hatred for Master was because he reminded him of himself.

Deep down, he knew that only one of them could truly be his soulmate, and that was Lo.

In the midst of the chaos, Meztli's love for Lo remained unwavering. After all, he was saved by the vampire. He still recalls how foreign it was to have his gentle touch as he took him in. How Lo treated him so delicately and how he looked at him with so much adoration in his eyes.

Master dashed towards Lo at lighting speed, getting ready to attack him.

Before he could even react, Meztli found himself sprinting towards the two, feeling a desperate pull to save and protect Lo from danger.

Meztli held out his hands, widening his stance so that he was shielding Lo behind him fully while he glared at Master. His pupils shrinking into thin slits as he bared his canines at the other Vampire.

Master raised one eyebrow, amused at the display infront of him. The shine of Meztli's sharp claws tainted slightly with blood caught, combined with his flared nose and razor sharp canines that can tear apart flesh, made Meztli look like a violent animal.

A violent and unstable animal that could grow soft at just the mere thought and touch of a vampire.

Master pursed his lips together into a thin line.

"How foolish." Master crossed his arms with a sigh at the scene. He took a step back. Narrowing his eyes at Lo and then at Meztli.

"Do not be too relieved. I'll be back for you, little wolf." With that, Master disappeared just as a thunder struck loudly, into the night sky.

Lo breathed a sigh of relief, "Thank god he's finally gone.." He looked up, realising Meztli is still in a tense action, his soft growling was still audible along with his troubled expression evident on his face. "Mez..it's alright." Lo placed his hand on his shoulder, giving a reassuring squeeze.

This broke Meztli out of his trance, whipping his entire body back to look over Lo. "It's okay, my love. We're okay." Lo whispered, making Meztli look up at him.

Lo smiled and it was as if the angels were blessed when time seemed to slow and the moonlight hit his face at the perfect angle.

Meztli felt his throat burned as if a thousand needles has been plunged into it. His vision blurred and the muddled figure of Lo made the tears well up even more. He threw himself forwards into Lo's arms, knowing, without a doubt, that Lo had already opened his arms out to embrace him.

Meztli refrained from crying out loud, only letting soft sobs escape past his lips despite trying so hard to keep them in.

"It's alright, my love..I'm here."

Then, he knew he was safe with Lo, that it was okay to let all out when hes with him. Meztli closed his eyes, letting his ears rest against his ruffled up hair, his tail swaying lightly as he let himself indulge in the oddly warm and soft embrace of his everything.

#1k followers event #event #Followers Event #ForMoots #Gift #Bloody Parchment #MootsOCs #Lo #Lo Quill #Master Quill #Vampire Lo #Vampire Master #AesopeOCs #Meztli #Werewolf Meztli #🩸Bloody Parchment 🪶

[tessathegamefreak]

I have been meaning to do this character introduction for a while, but I didn't like the way I had originally drawn him. Finally, I have updated his design and now I love him, so...

OC Introduction #3

(WIR Edition)

Say hello to Lord Lucas Chamoy-Amargo!

Attire:

A yellow-orange button up shirt, covered on the shoulders with chili powder. He wears a reflective dark red, slightly red-violetish vest made from the Lucas Gusano wrapper and suspenders made from Salsagheti strings and clipped on with Rebanaditas lollipop clips.

His slacks are a dark green, that goes all the way down into his cowboy boots. Designed into the sides of his boots are the faces of smiling ducks wearing sunglasses- a reference to the Lucas brand mascot [Does he have a name? Not as far as I know].

One final thing I'd like to point out is that Lucas' hair isn't made of hair: it is made out of the Pelon Pelo Rico soft tamarind candy! His hair gets really mushy when it's wet, hardens when it's cold, and it can melt onto itself on very hot days.

Kart:

Yet to be drawn. Will be updated once the image is posted!

Bio and Backstory:

In the early days of development for Sugar Rush, the developers had wanted to add diversity to the kingdom by including race tracks to represent candies of the flavor origins, each with their own assigned racer. Fourteen year old Lord Lucas Chamoy-Amargo was meant to be the Lord of his own sour town, and a direct rival to Vanellope in lore! He is themed after Chili-powdered and tamarind flavored/pulp candies! His town was meant to be western-inspired, being placed just outside the boundaries of the Candy Savannah [the area where the Kart Bakery is at].

As Vanellope's rival, the developers had wanted to make him more challenging to players that were using the other racers. So they had set Lucas' CPU stats above those of the average Sugar Rush racer. This, however, made it to where Lucas can see and interact with videogame layers below what can actually be seen by players or other characters. This caused problems for the programmers since he'd often find himself getting infected by viruses, so in the end, they decided building Lucas' town wasn't worth it...

After Wreck-It Ralph:

Lucas' story is more in line with that of Theresa's After Wreck-It Ralph canon, since I had initially planned for Lucas to be the antagonist of a potentially cancelled Wreck-It Ralph sequel I wanted to write to replace RBTI in my universe [IDK, it might just be on hiatus, but I haven't been working on it]. He would have originally distrusted Vanellope so greatly that he'd team up with Turbo- who would have been hidden layers below the game due to Vanellope resetting the game before he could respawn.

Despite this sequel not happening, the story still goes that Vanellope in my canon had gotten bored with the same old and went into her game's Code Room after learning of other deleted content that could still be used. Lord Lucas' character was one of them, along with Theresa Truffla Treat. Lord Lucas was greatly confused by the amount of time that had passed, as well as why his town never became a reality. He was also confused by Sourbill's place in the kingdom, since Sourbill was originally meant to be his servant [Recall back to Theresa's bio when I said Sourbill replaced Theresa after they deleted her; that's because they already had Sourbill made as a servant for Lucas. Remove Lucas, you are left with a butler; Remove Theresa, you are left with a princess that needs a servant. Put the two ends together and you have Princess Vanellope and Sourbill]

Without a place to call home, Vanellope was kind enough to let Lucas stay at her castle for the time being- she wasn't using it that much anyways since she was always with Ralph. Eventually, the other townfolk came together to help build Lucas his town hall based on the developers' plans for his town in the Candy Savannah. Lucas oversaw everything, and in the end it came out just right!

Personality:

As a sour character, he is naturally very bitter and deadpanned in most of his interactions. He is also an impatient child, so he can quickly be aggravated. Additionally, because his theme includes chili-powder, he can also be very Hot-headed! When he gets angry, he gets ANGRY!!!

It is with his temper that he doesn't find himself having many friends amongst his fellow racers. For those that do try to get close to him though, they will find he actually can be tenderhearted. He is like a tamarind- although the candies and delicacies made from it are sour and/or spicy, the pulp itself is actually sweet.

Love Interest:

Lucas does eventually find himself a love interest in the land of Sugar Rush. Although the relationship was not immediately a success at first, he was able to patch things up with Jubileena Bing-Bing and found a partner in her!

In the Next-Gen, he settles down with Jubileena and has two children with her:

Sabrosita Chamoy-Bing-Bing and Cerecita Chamoy-Bing-Bing (Bios to be made soon)

As an Adult:

[BONUS] Old sketches:

[BONUS] Old digital drawing (EW!-):

And that is all! I hope you all like his character! Even if you didn't have the time to read his information, I hope you enjoy his redesign! 😁

#wreck it ralph #art #fanart #my own art #my oc character #my oc stuff #my oc #sugar rush oc #sugar rush next gen #sugar rush #sugar rush speedway #wreck it ralph oc #lord lucas chamoy amargo #lord lucas #lucas chamoy amargo #adult lucas

[zacharybosch]

Lepidoptera

an little PWP where will and hannibal are lesbians and fuck at a party ✌

also hello i’m posting a fic after an accidental >2 year hiatus how’s everyone doing

read below or on ao3!

“Thanks for letting me get changed here,” Wil said, clutching at the strap of her bag. “I’ll try to stay out of the way.” The party wasn’t due to start for a few more hours, but preparations were already in full swing downstairs and the foyer was buzzing with the activity of the hired staff. As she jerked quickly out of the way of a trolley full of strange-looking hors d'oeuvres, Wil again regretted her choice to come straight over from work.

“I promise you won’t be in the way, Wil. The guest room is yours for the night. Let me take your things,” Annabel said, holding out an expectant hand.

“Oh. I– I don’t need to stay after. I’ve got my car. I can drive.”

“Late at night, on these icy roads, after a party? I don’t think so.” Wil would’ve bristled at Annabel’s tone of voice, were it coming from anyone else. Imperious and presumptuous. “You already mentioned your neighbour is looking in on the dogs this evening. They’ll manage without you until tomorrow.”

“Well. I don’t have any overnight stuff with me.”

Annabel sighed, gently enough so as not to be impolite, but loud enough to make sure Wil knew that self-denial was not permitted in this house. “I have spares of anything you might need. Please, Wil. If you’re looking for permission to have fun, consider it granted.” Annabel wiggled her still-outstretched fingers, and Wil finally handed over the beat-up rucksack. Annabel smiled, quietly triumphant, and turned toward the stairs. “Just up here. Follow me.”

Wil fell into step behind Annabel, trailing her up the stairs as the busy sounds of the house faded into nothing.

***

Wil laid out her party dress on the bed, and then laid herself out next to it. She seriously considered just crawling under the blankets and passing out. When Annabel eventually came looking and found her fast asleep, maybe she’d just give up and leave Wil to it. Tuck the blanket a little higher around her shoulders, draw the curtains, and close the door with a soft and careful click. It felt almost motherly; being cocooned in this dark nest of a room while the party went on downstairs, with Annabel coming up every so often to check in and make sure she was okay. It was a strange fantasy, putting Annabel in the place of the mother Wil had never known, and it felt as foreign to Wil as the rush of pleasure that followed it. Probably best not to examine that one too closely.

Annabel had always made her feel some type of way, Wil was honest enough with herself to admit that, but what that feeling was exactly had always been too hard to pin down. Annabel was confusing in a way that no-one else was; where Jack’s high-handedness was grating to Wil’s nerves and left her feeling used, from Annabel it felt thrilling; Alana’s kindness felt like ordinary pity, Annabel’s like exclusivity.

Whatever Annabel directed at her, Wil never reacted to it in the way she thought she would. Maybe that was why she’d decided to wear a dress to this party – maybe that was why she’d actually accepted the invitation at all. Her automatic response to anyone else would’ve been No thank you, absolutely not, parties are not my forté, immediately and without question. But Annabel had asked, and Wil had opened her mouth and said Sure. Yeah. Okay. That sounds… that sounds nice. I can come. Thanks.

The dress was so far beyond her comfort zone that Wil was fairly sure she must’ve been in a fugue state when she bought it. She had smart slacks, good shirts and blazers and even a tie somewhere; she could’ve worn any of these things to Annabel’s party and looked appropriately well-dressed. But when Annabel had extended the invitation, all Wil could think was Dress. I want to wear a dress. I want to be one of her beautiful things in her beautiful house. She was unused to the feel of dresses and couldn’t remember the last time she’d worn one; they’d always seemed like things that were meant for someone else, and she’d never found a place in her life where they fit comfortably.

The dress was green, brighter than she really wanted and a little shorter than she was entirely happy with. She had, hesitantly and a little clumsily, asked Beverly if she would help her pick something out. Beverly had made overtures of friendship towards Wil in the past, and Wil had returned them as best as she was able, but they certainly weren’t at the comfort level required for shopping trips. Wil’s only other option for assistance was Alana, the thought of which was too much to bear; she already felt like a lab rat under Alana’s gaze, and couldn’t stand the thought of running through any more of her mazes.

So Wil had asked Beverly, and was silently and blissfully relieved when Beverly brushed past the fact that they really didn’t know each other well enough for this, and took Wil to a generic, mid-range department store. She had respected Wil’s requirements (nothing with a complicated internal architecture, or that required a special bra), and hid her rolling eyes when Wil dismissed dresses for flimsy reasons (not that colour, Wil’s least-favourite second grade teacher wore a blouse in that colour once), and eventually they settled on the green dress.

Looking at it again now, laid on top of Annabel’s no doubt eye-wateringly expensive cashmere bedspread, Wil thought again that maybe the dress really was a little too short. It skimmed her knees, but she had been adamant about not having her knees on display in any capacity. She didn’t know why exactly, just that it felt… vulnerable. She never got her knees out any other time. Why should she have to do it now? She felt foolish for being so weak about it, and then angry that she felt foolish. In the department store changing rooms, staring at the mottled skin of her knees under the unforgiving fluorescent light, Beverly had slowly convinced her that pantyhose were in fact an option.

Wil could spend the rest of the night buried in her own head, replaying the shopping trip over and over and wondering if she’d made the right decision; or, she could grow up and just put the damn dress on. What would Annabel think if she saw Wil dithering over something as silly as this? She’d look at Wil and give a strained little smile to avoid curling her lip in mild distaste. Wil would put on all the hideously uncomfortable dresses in the world if it meant avoiding that.

Pulling on the dress in Annabel’s guest room, with its soft colours and flattering lighting, Wil felt a touch more confident than she had in the harsh landscape of the department store dressing room. She was moving from full regret to partial regret, her mind taking a few more steps away from This is the worst thing I could ever have done and edging a little closer to Wearing this kind of feels like a nice hug. It didn’t look so bad with the pantyhose either; they were black and opaque, completely concealing her knees while still showing the shape of them, and they offered the added benefit of softening the harsh line of her low-heeled black ankle boots, which were the only things with heels that she actually had a hope of walking in.

Wil left the boots off for the moment, enjoying the feel of the plush carpet beneath her stockinged feet, and reached around to her back to zip up the dress. The zip was probably fine for someone who had a normal range of motion in their shoulders, but Wil’s old stab wound cut that range short and she could only reach so far before her arm wouldn’t bend any further. Beverly had zipped it for her when she tried it on in the store.

Wil opened the door of her room and peeked out into the hallway. Annabel was nowhere in her immediate sight, and she was absolutely not going to go wandering around the house with her dress half-open. She closed the door and again contemplated crawling into the bed and going to sleep.

Just then there was a knock at the door, and Annabel’s muffled voice asking, “Everything alright in there, Wil?”

She could absolutely do it. She could just not respond, and get into bed, and fall immediately asleep. Instead, Wil said, “Um. Could you zip me up?”

“Of course.” Annabel opened the door with a smile, and then paused while she took her time looking over Wil’s outfit. “What a beautiful dress.”

“Thanks. It has pockets.”

“Both form and function,” she said, walking the rest of the way into the room. “Turn around for me.”

Wil turned her back to Annabel. She could see her in the standing mirror, approaching with the slow and measured steps of a jungle cat.

Annabel brushed Wil’s hair away from her neck, an entirely useless gesture given that her hair wasn’t even long enough to get caught in the zip. As she drew the zip slowly up Wil’s spine, Annabel asked, “Do you have any plans for your hair?”

“Not really. I was just going to brush it and…” Wil’s sentence stalled. Annabel was running her fingers up the centre of her back, tracing the path of the zip that she’d just closed. Wil’s spine curved to the touch involuntarily, and she took a shaky breath. “...tuck it behind my ears.”

“Are you open to suggestion?” Annabel murmured, fingers resting at the nape of Wil’s neck.

Wil turned, and Annabel’s fingers dragged across her shoulder. “Am I…?”

“I have a decorative hair comb that I think would match your dress very well.”

“Oh. Yeah. Yes. Thank you.”

Annabel smiled, small and secretive. “I’ll just be a moment.”

Wil waited for what felt like hours, but in reality was little more than five minutes. For the first few minutes she paced back and forth across the room, very pointedly not thinking about Annabel putting her fingers in her hair. Then she sat on the edge of the bed, hands wedged under her thighs, to carry on not thinking about it. She was just about to get up again to do more of that pacing-and-not-thinking when Annabel came back with a little lacquered trinket box in her hands.

She didn’t bother to show Wil the comb beforehand, just positioned her head and divided a section of hair and pinned it into place. Her fingertips were very warm. “Take a look,” Annabel said, hands still floating about her head.

Wil stood and looked in the mirror. One side of her hair had been pulled back behind her ear and pinned up with the comb, the other side hanging free to curl against her jaw. It was– some kind of bug? A moth, maybe? It had little gold legs and filigree wings, and an enamelled green body the exact same shade as her dress. She turned her head to the side, and there was a gentle flash where the gold caught the light.

Wil reached up to skim her fingers over the comb and then stopped. Her reflection in the mirror reminded her of what a solitary lifestyle and closet full of long-sleeve shirts had allowed her to forget: she hadn’t shaved her underarms for a long time. Years, maybe.

Annabel noticed, of course. “It’s a bold woman who wears her body just as nature intended it.”

“I’m not that bold,” Wil said, dropping her arm. It wasn’t that she was ashamed, but she knew what people might say, and she was already going to be on edge this evening. She didn’t want to deal with any more opinions than she absolutely had to. “Shit. Do you have a razor I can borrow?”

“Your ensuite is fully stocked.”

Wil went and rummaged about in the ensuite bathroom, returning quickly with an exasperated look on her face.

“I meant a normal razor. The kind with a plastic handle that you get at the drugstore. I don’t know what to do with,” Wil waved the bone-handled straight razor dangerously close to her face, “this.”

“I’m afraid it’s all I have.” Annabel said, in a tone of voice that made Wil think she wasn’t quite telling the truth. “Let me find you a shawl to wear instead.”

Wil had borrowed clothes from people before and thought nothing of it, but Annabel’s offer immediately set her skin prickling. The hair comb was fine, she could do that. It wasn’t soft, luxurious fabric that would be sliding over her skin all evening and making her want to run to the nearest bathroom and roll around in it. If she took Annabel’s shawl, she would cling to it all fucking evening and people would notice. They would see it and think… They’d look at Wil and see her covered in Annabel’s things and start to wonder about the two of them. Wonder things with their ugly little brains that they had no right to wonder about.

She sagged a little, razor held limply in her hand. “No, I-- it’s fine. I’ll use the razor. It’s fine.” Wil turned and took a few steps back towards the ensuite, but then slowed and stopped hesitantly at the door. Turning her head towards her shoulder, but not looking over it at Annabel, she chewed on her lip as she felt the pink blush of shame start to creep across her cheeks and down her neck. Eventually, Wil said, “Could you, ah, do it for me? Don’t wanna cut myself.”

Wearing her best, most gracious and sincere smile, Annabel said, “Of course,” and followed her into the bathroom.

***

Wil stood in a small cluster, with Alana and some other people that she didn’t know, drink in hand and eyes skittering back and forth over neatly-coiffed heads. Concentrating on the party was proving difficult. Wil was hyper-aware of the skin all around her shoulders and underarms, every area that Annabel had touched feeling like a scorch mark. She’d had to take her dress off – halfway off, clinging around her waist and hips, which was somehow worse than all the way off. Annabel had skimmed her eyes over Wil’s soft jersey bra and made no comment, but the fabric was very thin and the weight of Annabel’s gaze exceedingly heavy.

The shaving cream didn’t smell of anything, but the lotion that Annabel smoothed over Wil’s bare, sensitive skin afterwards did. It was very delicately scented, a tangle of violet and cedar that somehow still hadn’t faded or drowned amongst the sea of partygoers. Wil wondered if Annabel could smell it from across the room, if it made her aware of Wil’s movements, if she would follow the scent were Wil to retreat back upstairs.

On the far side of the room, deep in conversation with a woman in a bright red dress, Annabel stood with her back to the wall and an easy tilt to her hips. She was wearing a velvet blazer that looked like a bathrobe, with its soft shawl collar and tie belt at the waist. The neckline was high enough to be elegant, but low enough that all Wil could really think about was the fact that she probably wasn’t wearing anything underneath it, and how nice it must be to be the sort of person who could wear something like that.

Annabel turned slightly to place her empty glass on the tray of a passing waiter, and the simple grace of the movement caught and held Wil’s restless gaze. Annabel looked back, seemingly unsurprised to find Wil staring at her, and winked.

Alana had been speaking for the last five minutes and Wil hadn’t heard a word. She suddenly felt very hot.

“Sorry, what?” Wil said, taking a not-altogether-steady sip of her drink.

“I was just saying that I like your dress.”

“Oh, thanks. It has pockets.”

Alana peered at Wil, the first gentle lines of a frown beginning to crease her forehead. “Are you okay? You look a little flushed.”

“Yeah, um, I just need to, ah. You know. I’ll just,” Wil gulped down the last of her drink and clattered the empty glass onto a side table, then left without finishing her sentence.

Upstairs, Wil let herself into the dark cocoon of the guest room, and through into the ensuite. She splashed cold water onto her face and then leant back against the tiled wall, blessedly cool and soothing against her over-warm skin. She would just stay here a little while, enjoy some respite from the crowded party, all those bodies producing heat and noise. Get her head back on straight.

“Hello, Wil.”

Or not. Annabel was there, because of course she was, stepping into the ensuite and closing the door behind her. Wil almost wanted to laugh with how inevitable it all felt. Annabel had been carefully manoeuvring Wil into her net from the moment she invited her to this party, and now she was going to plunge her hand inside and claim her prize.

“Hi,” Wil said. “I just needed a minute.”

“Feeling out of sorts?” Annabel asked, placing the back of her hand against Wil’s forehead. Her voice was gentle and syrupy, and Wil thought again about the bizarre flash of that mothering fantasy from earlier in the day.

Wil shifted against the wall, goosebumps rippling over her skin as her shoulders pressed against the tiles. “I don’t know, I’m just… It was very hot down there. My skin feels itchy. I’m not used to shaving.”

“Has the skin become irritated?”

Wil hesitated. She’d looked already. It was fine.

“Let me see,” Annabel said, and put her hands on Wil’s waist to move her in front of the mirror. She stood behind Wil and pushed her elbow to point up towards the ceiling, ran a hand slowly down over her bicep, and then dragged her fingers carefully over the tender skin of her underarm.

“No redness or bumps. It feels quite smooth.” Annabel made a thoughtful noise. “If it still feels uncomfortable, I could apply some more lotion to the area. It may help soothe the itch.”

Wil was perfectly capable of applying the lotion herself, but instead she just nodded and whispered, “Please.”

Annabel smiled at Wil’s reflection in the mirror. Not her usual smile, careful and precise and perfectly pitched, but a private, intimate smile that she had cultivated for Wil and Wil alone.

“It would be unfortunate if we got any lotion on your lovely dress, Wil,” Annabel said, fingers already tugging at the zip. Before, she had opened the dress only so far as necessary for Wil to slip her arms out, with the bodice sitting scrunched around her waist. This time, Annabel pulled on the zip and kept on pulling, until the dress was all the way undone and fell with a soft rustle at Wil’s feet.

Wil felt foolish, standing there in her boots and pantyhose and bra, but Annabel had already caged her in against the counter and she couldn’t have stepped away even if she wanted to. She kept her eyes trained carefully on Annabel’s hands, on the long, fine-boned fingers and neatly clipped nails.

The first press of lotion to skin sent goosebumps prickling across Wil’s body. She could see the outline of her nipples stiffening beneath the thin fabric of her bra, and felt thrillingly terrified at the prospect of Annabel seeing it too. Her hand dangled uselessly behind her head where her arm was raised and bent, and she fought the urge to sink her fingers deep into Annabel’s hair.

First one side and then the other, Annabel devoted her careful attention to this absurd dance the same way she devoted her attention to anything; undivided, sincerely, and with the distinct impression that this was the most important thing in the world.

At some point, they both silently agreed to stop pretending that this was a benevolent gesture, a friend assisting a friend. Annabel’s hands wandered freely, squeezing and caressing the hard muscle of Wil’s arms, running up towards her collarbone, smoothing the skin of her shoulders.

“I… I think that’s good now,” Wil breathed, finally bringing herself to meet Annabel’s gaze in the mirror.

“I’m glad you’re feeling better,” Annabel said, not moving away. Her chin was perched delicately on Wil’s shoulder, and when she turned her head her lips ghosted over Wil’s jaw. “Is there anything else I can help you with, before we rejoin the party?”

Wil turned her head too, just a fraction. Enough that she could feel Annabel’s breath at the corner of her mouth. “I’m just a little tense. Not good in crowds. You know.”

“I do know,” Annabel whispered, and pressed a hand against Wil’s forehead until she was leaning back against her shoulder. “Let me help.”

Annabel began by just stroking her hands up and down Wil’s arms, firm and grounding. She let Wil sag against her while she spoke in hushed tones, cheek to cheek. “Difficult enough to maintain your boundaries at work, and socialising is just another kind of work for you, isn’t it? Everyone trying to pry their way inside your head. No safe place to relax.” Annabel moved her hands to the small of Wil’s back, and began pressing with strong fingers. “You carry your wariness hard within your body. Always on guard, ready to fight or fly. I saw you downstairs. You knew the location of every person in the room.” Annabel’s hands were at Wil’s hips now, gripping the hard muscle and bone, digging pressure into the crease of her thighs.

A long sigh had been gathering in Wil’s throat ever since Annabel first laid her hands upon her, and she finally let it escape. “I’ve found it necessary in the past.”

“But you didn’t always know where I was. You looked for me when I was gone.”

“You’re hard to pin down.”

“So are you.”

Wil opened her eyes, and caught Annabel’s gaze in the mirror. “You’ve pinned me now.”

Annabel smiled again, one of those tiny smiles she sometimes did that weren’t even recognisable as smiles until they’d already left her face. She caught Wil’s earlobe gently between sharp teeth, held it for a second, and then let it slip free. “I have, little butterfly. Do you want me to let you go?”

Wil looked at her reflection, and for a second she saw what Annabel must see: milky pale skin, soft and unblemished but for the deep pink blush that seemed to be a permanent fixture when Annabel was around; wide, searching eyes, coloured like the sea and just as unpredictable; the dark tumbles of her curls and the pink curves of her lips and the strong line of her jaw. And surrounding it all, the possessive hold of Annabel herself, pressed all along Wil’s back and breathing hot against her neck.

“No. Keep me pinned.”

Annabel splayed one possessive hand against the base of Wil’s neck, and moved the other down between her thighs to cup firmly over her underwear. She kept her fingers pressed together, moving as one to make a rolling wave of pressure, a teasing touch to make Wil move her hips and ask for more.

Wil finally bent her arms back and sank her hands into Annabel’s hair, just like she’d wanted to do ever since they started their little charade with the body lotion. She turned her head and opened her mouth and made a desperate, wanting little noise that she would no doubt be embarrassed about later, but it got Wil what she was looking for: Annabel’s lips met hers in a hungry, wet slide, forcefully claiming Wil’s mouth for her own and swallowing all the little whimpers that tried to fall from her lips.

“I think you’ve been waiting for me to touch you all day, Wil,” Annabel breathed out in a rush, in the scant space between one kiss and the next. Wil made a noise in the back of her throat, and pushed harder against Annabel’s fingers. “Did you really need my help tonight, to shave you smooth and dress you up? Or did you just want my hands on your body?”

“You don’t care, you would’ve done it whether I needed it or not,” Wil gasped.

Annabel bit at the soft skin beneath Wil’s jaw. “I would.”

Wil’s pantyhose were becoming damp where Annabel pressed them against her body, and she had the wild thought that she could come just like this, grinding down against Annabel’s strong fingers, making a mess of her underwear. She felt a little hysterical, spinning out of control, burning up with a fire that she hadn’t even known existed within her until Annabel touched her body like a spark to kindling.

To say that Wil had never in her wildest dreams imagined doing something like this would be nonsense; she’d imagined this and plenty more, her mind conjuring all manner of arousing and disturbing scenarios whether she wanted it to or not, but she’d never for one second in her life thought that she would actually make any of them a reality. It wasn’t– it wasn’t her. Wil Graham did not get to enjoy things like that. Wil Graham kept far away from people and their inevitable disappointments, removed any possibility of getting what she wanted because to have it and lose it was far more painful than never having it in the first place.

But Annabel didn’t care about any of that. She decided that she wanted to add Wil to her collection, and Wil just had to deal with it. It was so arrogant, invasive, rude, and yet Wil couldn’t bring herself to be anything other than absolutely desperate for it. She wanted Annabel to break thoughtlessly through all her carefully constructed walls, to drag her kicking and screaming from her forts and flay her open and make her love it.

As if hearing Wil’s thoughts spilling from her head, Annabel kissed her harder, gripped her tighter around the base of her neck, and shoved her hand roughly, without ceremony, into her underwear.

Wil was wet. She was so fucking wet and she couldn’t remember ever being this wet before, slick and slippery and hot. Annabel’s fingers slid through her lips and over her clit, unrelenting in their delicious pressure and Wil was truly abandoning herself now, moaning from deep in her chest, grinding against Annabel’s hand and writhing in her arms. Annabel’s hands were so hot against her body, and Wil irrationally hoped that she’d have hand-shaped burn marks in the morning.

It soon became apparent that Wil’s pantyhose were getting in the way, pressing tightly against Annabel’s arm and impeding the movement of her hand. Wil tried to pull them down without breaking their kiss, but Annabel grabbed her wrists in a frighteningly strong grip and pulled her hands away.

She moved her lips to Wil’s ear and said, “Turn around for me.”

Wil turned, and saw that Annabel had the straight razor in her hand. She tried to stay perfectly still, shaky arms scrabbling for purchase on the countertop behind her, breath held, blood pounding in her ears, as she watched Annabel open the razor with a deft flick of the wrist and slice through the fabric of her pantyhose in one clean cut. And then Annabel grabbed more of the fabric and cut again, and again, until the pantyhose had become stockings with tattered, ragged tops, barely clinging to Wil’s thighs and trailing ends around her legs.

Wil’s chest heaved and she pulled Annabel back in for another searing kiss, paying no mind to the lethally sharp razor that was still in her hand. Annabel groped Wil’s breasts with one hand, yanking her bra strap down and rolling a hard, sensitive nipple between her fingers. With the other, she slid the razor beneath the fabric of Wil’s underwear where it crossed her hip, pulling it taught until it was a breath away from splitting over the blade.

Annabel pulled back and looked down at where she was holding Wil on the edge of the razor. Wil looked too, gasping for air and squirming against Annabel’s hands and the blade that was so dangerously close. Annabel turned the blade and pushed, just a little, so the tip of it touched Wil’s skin. Slowly, unbearably, she raised her eyes until she met Wil’s gaze.

“What do you want me to do, Wil?” Annabel said, her eyes blown dark and her lips slack with desire. It was the first hint that Annabel was just as much flung out on the brink of need as Wil.

Wil said nothing, just pushed her body a fraction closer and let her hip drop so that the razor made a shallow cut in her skin. Three perfect, delicate little beads of blood welled up along the cut, then fell together and ran together hot and sticky over Wil’s skin. Annabel snarled and licked her lips, flipped the razor sharp side up again, and tore through Wil’s underwear like it was made of nothing.

“I’m going to fuck you,” Annabel said, abandoning the razor and urging Wil up and onto the counter, squeezing her thighs and pushing them apart. “I’m going to put my fingers inside you and I’m going to fuck you.”

“Oh god, fuck, please,” Will said in a breathy rush, leaning back against the mirror and pulling the ruins of her underwear further down her leg. She felt like she was made of white noise, her body about to vibrate apart and the only thing holding her together was Annabel’s hands squeezing bruises into her hips.

Annabel pressed her face in between Wil’s legs, inhaling the hot, deep scent of her and almost purring with pleasure. She licked hard and rough over the razor cut, smearing the blood over her lips to mingle with her lipstick. She slid one hand down to rub at the juncture where Wil’s inner thigh met her body, squeezing and pulling at the flesh so that everything around it moved as well. Wil was dripping, desperate for some friction, for something to clench around, and she began to moan pitifully as Annabel kept on touching her everywhere except where she wanted it most.

“How badly do you want me inside you, Wil?” Annabel asked, drawing her hands up and away and rubbing them over Wil’s breasts.

Wil couldn’t help but arch up into her touch, even as she felt a flare of anger. Truly maddening that Annabel was so ready to put off her own desperately desired pleasure if it meant making Wil squirm a little more. “You know, you know how fucking bad.”

“I do. But I want you to tell me.”

“If you don’t fuck me in the next five seconds,” Wil said, faintly disbelieving even as the words continued to tumble from her mouth, “I’ll take that razor and slice you open.”

Annabel closed her eyes in delight. “Is that a promise?”

Wil knew at that point that she had truly left all coherent thought on the floor with her dress, and gone fully insane. There was no other explanation for why she grabbed the razor from where Annabel had carelessly tossed it on the counter, and flicked it open with the same short, sharp move. She held the blade against Annabel’s sternum and huffed out a stunted laugh and it all felt normal and right because it was Annabel she was doing it with.

“It’s a promise,” Wil said, and then, pulling at the tie belt that was holding Annabel’s blazer closed: “It’s been more than five seconds now.”

“I know.”

And just as Wil had leaned in and dragged down against the blade when Annabel held it against her hip, so Annabel leaned and dragged, and watched as a trickle of blood slid down between her breasts.

Wil swiped her fingers through the blood and brought them to her lips to suck, letting the iron tang flood her mouth. That hysterical feeling was back again, and she pulled Annabel in by the back of her neck and kissed all of her madness into her, sloppy and careless, saliva dripping from their lips to mingle with the blood drying on Wil’s hip.

Finally, achingly, Annabel slid her fingers down over Wil’s sweat-damp skin and into the hot, soaking wet heat of her. The push inside was slow and relentless, two exploratory fingers quickly joined by a third, filling Wil up and sending hot, shivery waves over her body. She slid the pad of her thumb up against Wil’s clit, and then she began to move.

Wil had been fucked in the past, of course she had, and each time she’d done it had been uniquely and creatively disappointing until she’d almost given it all up as a waste of time. No one knew how to touch her in a way that felt right, and the more she tried to explain the less she understood about what exactly it was that she wanted.

Annabel understood what she wanted. Annabel had presented the blade for Wil to lean into and understood exactly what she wanted.

With one hand still clutching Annabel’s neck, Wil planted the other behind her on the counter, so she could push and thrust more easily against Annabel’s clever fingers. She felt wanton, pushing her breasts out and up, grinding her hips in a sensual rhythm that she didn’t know she was capable of, making filthy noises in the back of her throat. She wanted this to last forever, to be this otherworldly version of herself who fully inhabited every nerve in her body and manifested into her life all the pleasure that was owed her by the universe.

But Wil could tell that this was going to end quite quickly. She could feel her muscles starting to tense, the warmth spreading through her limbs, her cheeks turning pink and hot and her breath coming shallow and fast. Her sweaty hand slipped against the counter top as she clenched and unclenched her fingers.

“Fuck, fuck, I’m gonna come–”

“You’re going to come, Wil?” Annabel said, in the hot, breathy gap between kisses. “You’re going to come on my hand?”

“Yes– fuck–”

“Are you going to come with my fingers buried deep inside you? Rutting against my hand in the ruins of your underwear?”

Wil tried to respond and couldn’t. She moaned into Annabel’s mouth, holding tight to her neck and clenching luxuriously hard against her fingers as the flood of her orgasm engulfed her. In the past, Wil had always been quiet, with other partners and by herself, clamping her eyes and her jaw shut hard against her pleasure. Now, her eyelids fluttered and her mouth hung slack and lush, moans and sighs and little sounds of ah, oh, fuck falling unashamedly from her lips.

Annabel pulled her fingers slowly from where they were buried inside Wil, and sucked them into her mouth. Her chin and all around her mouth was wet with saliva, and tinged pink from messily licking the cut on Wil’s hip. She sucked Wil’s taste from her fingers like it was the most singularly delicious thing in the world.

Then she smiled at Wil, wiped off her hand, and began to neatly and without fuss re-tie the belt of her blazer as if she hadn’t just been finger-fucking Wil into an alternate dimension.

Wil could barely move, still dazed and splayed on the counter. “You don’t want…?” she asked, gesturing vaguely.

“No thank you, Wil. I have a party to attend to. Here,” Annabel said, offering a hand, “let me help you down.”

“Right. Thanks.” Wil took Annabel’s hand and slid off the counter and onto her shaky feet. She was still wearing her boots. Everything suddenly seemed very real again, and she didn’t know what the fuck she was meant to do next. Annabel had switched back into polite and impersonal hostess mode with alarming speed, and she had the terrifying thought that Annabel was going to brush her off. She tried very hard to push it from her mind, and was only somewhat successful.

Annabel wasn’t looking at her. She’d taken a washcloth from the cupboard beneath the counter, dampened it in the sink, and was fastidiously neatening up her lipstick where it had bled slightly into the corners of her mouth.

The silence in the room stretched for ten seconds, fifteen, twenty. If I don’t say something immediately, she’s going to walk out and leave me here, Wil thought, and so she blurted the first stupid thing that came to mind: “How– How is your make-up still perfect? Your lipstick barely smudged at all.”

Annabel finished dabbing at her mouth with the washcloth, threw it into the sink, and then walked towards Wil and kept on walking until Wil’s back hit the wall. Her hands were already on Wil’s waist again. She leaned in very close, until her nose brushed Wil’s cheek and her lips caught on her jaw. “It’s very, very expensive,” she said, and then planted a barely-there, close-lipped kiss onto Wil’s mouth. “You can try and smudge it again later.”

And then Annabel was gone, and Wil stood in the bathroom in the tatters of her clothes, put her head in her hands, and laughed.

#hannibal #hannigram #hannibal fic #will graham #hannibal lecter #my fic

[sinceileftyoublog]

Superchunk Live Show Review: 7/8, Square Roots, Chicago

BY JORDAN MAINZER

From the Czar Bar to the middle of Lincoln Square: Such is the story of Superchunk’s three-decade history in Chicago. Looking on at the crowd Saturday night at Square Roots, it was clear to Mac McCaughan that not many people knew what he was talking about when he mentioned the long-defunct venue. You know what, though? That’s Superchunk’s fault for attracting a new generation of fans. Since 2010, the band has released three great and one very good post-hiatus records. Saturday night, the crowd was perhaps expecting to hear more of their latest, 2022′s Wild Loneliness (Merge); instead, the set was practically two-thirds old material, including a few deep cuts, geared towards perhaps the very people at the Czar Bar in the early 90′s.

Superchunk’s brand of indie rock never went out of style. Even when baroque instrumentation pervaded the sound of the who’s who of independent music, there were always fans of power pop-bordering on-pop punk to be found, somewhere in between Cheap Trick and the Warped Tour. McCaughan and company’s earnestness never wore off. During the Aughts, the band simply wasn’t releasing music, but as soon as they did again, they returned right where they left off. All of this is to say it makes sense that Superchunk could attract a wide variety of listeners, versatility they showed off better than ever on Saturday. The gentler-than-usual lilt of What A Time To Be Alive’s “Black Thread” found a kindred spirit in the sway of “Driveway to Driveway”, while burner like On the Mouth’s “Precision Auto” mirrored the urgency of Majestry Shredding’s “Learned To Surf” and I Hate Music's shout-along anthem “Me & You & Jackie Mittoo”.

Meanwhile, the festival offered an opportunity for established bands like Superchunk to reflect on themselves and the others playing, how far all of them have come. During their set, McCaughan shouted out the stage’s previous occupants, local alt rock legends Eleventh Dream Day, as well as the Mekons’ Jon Langford and Sally Timms, who both joined Eleventh Dream Day and played a set of their own across the grounds earlier in the day. As for those who weren’t there, Superchunk dedicated No Pocky for Kitty’s “Seed Toss” to the late Rick Froberg, the Pitchfork/Drive Like Jehu/Hot Snakes lead vocalist who passed away late last month. They unexpectedly ended their set not with a no-brainer like “Slack Motherfucker” but their version of Lou Barlow’s oft-covered “Brand New Love” from their 1992 Tossing Seeds singles compilation. On Monday, I looked at the band’s setlist at Thalia Hall the following night to find there was not much crossover. For the uninitiated and the familiar, every Superchunk show is an invitation to dive in or rediscover something great that just happens to have been there the whole time.

#live music #square roots #superchunk #jim wilbur #wild loneliness #czar bar #mac mccaughan #merge #merge records #cheap trick #warped tour #what a time to be alive #on the mouth #majesty shredding #i hate music #eleventh dream day #mekons #jon langford #sally timms #no pocky for kitty #rick froberg #pitchfork #drive like jehu #hot snakes #lou barlow #tossing seeds #thalia hall

[alaskassweetdump]

New Music Roundup

It's been a minute since I've told ya'll about the new music (that comes out every Friday)! I've been slacking on my duties as hype woman, please forgive me.

Here are the new tunes that I have been LOVING these last few weeks:

WOO - Denzel Curry ft. PlayThatBoiZay & Chief Pound :

Denzel Curry has yet to drop a song that I dislike. Watching his star status grow to shine brighter each day has been my favorite thing in music right now.

Re: This Is Why - Paramore & Friends:

Paramore has been one of my most favorite bands ever since I was around 12/13 years old. When they tour, I make it a priority to see them. I enjoyed attempting to crack the clues they fed us to prepare us for this excellent album!

My faves are: This Is Why - Foals, Running Out of Time - Panda Bear, C'est Comme Ca - Wet Leg, Figure 8 - Bartees Strange (this person has the most delightful voice, new fan here), Thick Skull - Julien Baker, and lastly Sanity (Demo) - Paramore.

It's been a true thrill growing up with this band. They forever speak to my soul.

Dance With Me- blink-182:

blink-182 is also one of my most favorite bands. I remember the first time I ever saw/heard them. I was in first grade, at the neighbor's playing with my friend in his brother's bedroom. MTV was on. What's My Age Again? came on. I looked over and saw three grown men running around naked, with only socks. As a first grader, I thought it was so silly. That's the day I decided blink-182 is or me.

When blink-182 went on hiatus years ago, I called my mom AT WORK, to tell her of my devastation. Now, in 2023, I was able to see them as they were always meant to be, Tom, Mark, and Travis. I am so excited for their new album together! I could speak endlessly about my love for them. Their new songs are full of nostalgia. Chef's kiss!

Modern Girl- Bleachers:

Jack Antonoff really gives his entire self to his music, or any project for that matter. With Modern Girl, Jack is giving Billy Joel's We Didn't Start the Fire combined with the feel of Bruce Springsteen & the E Street Band. excellent work, Mr. Antonoff. I will be dancing to this is my car forever.

Scarlet - Doja Cat:

This entire album is gold, in my opinion. Doja Cat put her whole pussy into this. The entire album has this 90's hip hop/R&B feel that I am obsessed with. Also, when I saw her VM performance, I immediately added her to my Must See Live list. She is a PERFORMER!

Faves: Paint the Town Red, Demons, Agora Hills, & Can't Wait.

Pacer - Doechiii:

GUYS! If you're not listening to Doechiii yet, you need to correct that real quick. Doechii is another artist that I am loving to watch grow. Her features and her own music constantly slaps. She and Rico Nasty would tear a crowd UP! You can find Doechiii at a Jingle Ball date near you!

A N X I E T Y- Sleepy Hallow ft. Doechii:

What was that I just said about Doechiii's features? THEY SLAP! I had not heard of Sleepy Hallow until recently. Very happy with this discovery. He also has a song out titled ADHD. We sure do love an artist who is open about their struggles, especially struggles that are relatable af!

Assets - KeKe Palmer:

Do I really need to explain this one? IT IS KEKE PAMER, BABY!

Born for Loving You - Big Thief:

I discovered Big Thief a few New Music Fridays ago and immediately downloaded their entire discography. The melodies and their voice is so elegant. Instant obsession with these folks.

Never Die - Nas ft. Lil' Wayne:

Nas is back dropping hits for us all to enjoy. Also, Lil' Wayne's feature is hella Weezy. Love to see him still have that power.

Fan - Offset:

Offset blessed us with his new single, Fan. The music video was inspired by Offset's love & respect for Michael Jackson. The album cover also features Offset dressed in a black suit, much like Michael wore. The new album, Set It Off, drops this year. I truly can't wait to hear what else Offset has for us all. He really seems to be on his best bullshit in the studio and out! Most anticipated album for me!

Tonight at 12pm, New Music Friday brings us new tunes. I promise I won't wait this long to give my thoughts on the drops again.

I hope you found something you like!

#doja cat #nas #rico nasty #artist #music #musician #hip hop #lil wayne #paramore #foals #bartees strange #this is why #re: this is why #doechiii #jingle ball 2023 #blink 182 #dance with me #the ramones #bleachers #jack antonoff #modern girl #scarlet #demons #paint the town red #sleepy hallow #anxiety #adhd #keke palmer #offset #migos

[everythinghockey15]

just realizing how i went on hiatus without notice and i am so sorry!! i’ve really been slacking with this account as my last few weeks of my junior year are kicking my ass but i hope to be more active on here again in the coming weeks:)

#d’s thoughts #d rambles

[thewriterswitch]

This is your friendly reminder that the last few years have been hard, and if your writing has taken a toll as a result, that doesn’t make you any less of a writer. Maybe you went on hiatus. Maybe you got burnout. Maybe life gave you shit and other things took priority. It doesn’t matter. Writing is hard, so when life is hard, you might end up slacking in the writing department. And that’s okay. There’s no rule that says you have to write even when life is shitting on you. You’re allowed to take a break, and you can start writing again when you feel ready.

#writing #writerblr #fanfic #fanfiction #writing community #writers #write #creative writing #writers life #Reblogged #positivity #The Witch Speaks #The Writers Witch #The Witch’s Positivity

[lemonade-if]

omg what's the storylines for the other clubs?!

Ah yes, it’s about time I elaborate a bit about the clubs... 😅 

Some of the storylines are less about the club and more about the members within the club, so I’ll leave that to be discovered when MC meets them.

---

Volleyball: Click Here to read. <No RO in this club>

Soccer: Soccer is historically Mori High's strongest sport-- they have never missed a Nationals since the school’s founding, and they have won at Nationals for the past two years in a row. While Mori High is not an elite school as a whole, its soccer team is certainly elite. With the retirement of the third years who formerly led the team to victory, can MC step up with the remaining members and keep up this legacy? <Hikaru is in this club>

Basketball: Mori High's current basketball is the most and only talented iteration its ever had, but also the most stubborn and uncooperative-- so much so, the coach suffered a stroke during Kantou Regional Semifinals and resigned soon after. Individually, this is a team that should be able to win Nationals, but collectively, there is neither teamwork nor camaraderie. Will MC be what this team needs to set aside their pride and differences and finally play as one? <Yosuke is in this club>

Track: Of the sports clubs, track is most chill. Everyone joins for their own reasons, so there is no harsh judgement about anyone’s athleticism, motivations, or abilities-- not even from the upperclassmen or top runners. Rather than being hung up on winning medals, the club’s philosophy simply emphasizes being the best you can be, whether that means running a 5k in 4 minutes or 40. Nobody is a loser here. <Akane is in this club>

Cheer: Cheer’s main purpose is to motivate the crowds at sports games, but it’s not as easy as it sounds. This club takes a lot of guts to join, not only because of its physically-intensive practice routines and how loud you have to be able to yell for hours at a time-- but also because of how common it is to encounter ill-mannered rival school students who badmouth your school and your friends...what would you do in such situations, MC? <Ren is in this club>

Music: Within the music club, students either perform solo or form bands with other students. Coincidentally, one of the most popular student bands (in all of Tokyo) currently has an opening-- for any position, as the members are open to role swapping. This band has been on hiatus ever since their vocalist, a third year Mori High student, went missing. On top of being confused and worried for their friend, the band members have also lost all inspiration to create new music... <Leila is in this club>

Journalism: This club is in charge of conducting and compiling campus interviews, writing articles for the digital school newsletter, and creating the annual yearbook, with responsibilities distributed by members’ personal preference. As long as deadlines are met, the day to day activities during club hours are not strictly defined, so this club is also quite popular with students who want to slack off. Yes, that’s Aleksei.

Art: Known jokingly around the school as the "Weirdo Club" because they chose an abandoned storage room as their official club space instead of a normal classroom, this club includes students with artistic interests ranging from traditional painting to tattoos to manga and doujinshi. The club hosts an annual “Mori High Student Exhibition”, which is a well-known event popularly attended by students, parents, alumni, and even random locals. <Shion is in this club>

#LemonadeIF #asks #Clubs

[lvnatiq]

Random Relationship Headcanons | Felix Escellun x gn!reader

a/n: Hey ! On todays menu I am serving you modern au relationship headcanons. I know for a fact that I can’t write headcanons AT ALL yet here we are, out of spite I will keep trying until I can manage to write good shit. I’m going through a chaotic time in my life so please be patient with me 😭

I’m currently working on tattoo artist! reader x Felix headcanons and college!enemies to lovers one-shot. Knowing that Felix’s fav trope is enemies to lovers, I will post it hopefully before his new chapter drops. I used most of the hcs that were sent to me but if you couldn’t see yours, then it will probably be used on the other works.

No beta we die like men.

warnings: curse words, nsfw under the cut, random sage moments, felix being a ‘the neighborhood’ song basically.

You persuade him to start an Instagram account, and because of his family's popularity, he quickly gains followers. His account is practically empty because he would rather spend his time stalking your account on Instagram. You noticed the emptiness and wanted to take him out and take some photos for his account, which turned out amazingly. He is a little camera shy, so be patient with him.

You like to watch him apply his eyeliner but he finds it so stressing to do under your gaze.  He used to be able to do it easily, but it has now become one of his most difficult tasks. You wanted to ask for his assistance in applying eyeliner to you in the hopes of making it simpler for him; he agreed but quickly regretted it when he realized how near your faces would be. You with your eyes closed, waiting for him to drag the line as he was only thinking about how bad he wanted to kiss you. 

Felix has a Polaroid of you and stella in his wallet I said what I said.

When it comes to himself, he can be a pessimist, but when it comes to you, he is the most loving and positive boyfriend you could ever ask for. You have a dream ? He is ready to help you achieve it. Do you want to change in your life ? Go for it, He’s more excited than you are.

He can be quite insecure at times when it comes to your relationship because he feels like you deserve the world but the world is too big for his tiny hands. Will his cuddles be enough ? God he hopes so.

He almost cried when you told him you loved him for the first time. He's also baffled as to how you might feel the same way about him.

Drunk Felix is really clingy and honest. Whatever he can’t say sober drunk felix can and definitely will.

“May the stars let my death be between your glorious thighs amen-“ “Felix-”

Felix is weird but it add to his charm. It’s not unusual for you to wake up in the middle of the night and find the pillow besides yours empty. In the dead of night, you will find Felix munching on some weird ass food combinations.

He also has a habit of doing things that are extremely adorable without even noticing it. Like walking around the house in his oversized shirts, his hand clutching at the cuffs whilst the other one sheepishly rubs his eye.

“Can I lay on your lap ? I promise I won’t fall asleep. I just need to rest for a little.” His voice is so soft and hushed. “Of course, come here.” He throws himself onto you as he comes hopping on his tip toes.

He falls asleep on his desk too often, so you have to carry him back to his room, where he snuggles against you while you lead him there. Once he's in his room, he insists that you stay with him, so you wait until he falls asleep as you play with his hair, and he wakes up thinking it was all a dream.

I firmly believe that Felix’s love language is acts of service. Like making you coffee and bringing you random snacks as you work or wrapping you up in fluffy blankets whenever he catches you slacking on the couch.

He's been romanticizing anything and everything since he met you. When he sees beautiful flowers, he wants to bring them to you, but he also believes that their beauty stems from the fact that they are alive, so he argues and stresses a lot when deciding what to do in simple situations like these.

His edginess belongs to his impulsiveness and his style only at any other situation he's a complete softboy.

And I'm certain he knows a variety of card tricks. He enjoys showing off, and he enjoys it even more when you become fascinated and beg him to share the trick.

If you're a morning person, you'll probably spend your mornings alone in solitude, finishing work before the day begins, but if you're a night owl, you and Felix will go out for night walks and Felix would go out for night walks, sharing headphones to play some music, enjoy each others presence and develop a habit of watching the sunrise together.

Felix makes you playlists at the most random times and with the most random names. Until one day he sent you a playlist at around 4 a.m called “you”, filled with his favorite music. He usually sees music as a safe space for himself and now that you are his safe place too it’s only appropriate for him to do so. This only further proves how he spends his time thinking about you.

I feel like Felix would have what most would call "attachment issues" but it’s mainly because of his protective tendencies. This is not to say that he’s this "overly jealous toxic" character; rather, he has never had anyone to truly call his own in his entire life so he would do anything to protect it.

Felix is also big on astrology, so if you want the perfect birth chart, he'll give it to you. Also he owns a lovely deck of tarot cards, and if you ask him for a love reading, he can't manage to keep his words and feelings to himself so he modifies your reading according to him and his desires. Let the boy abuse his powers for the sake of love.

His style could be described as dark academia, his wardrobe mainly consists of dark colors, lots and lots of blazers and a lot of oversized shirts. He also loves jewelry so he owns a lot of rings and chains. Just so you know, if you're wearing any of his rings, his heart is doing cartwheels.

Is it obvious that he loves it when you place your hand in his and play with his rings with your fingertips.

Spoil him. Buy him that baby blue hoodie with cat ears.

“Ah, you look adorable.” “Isn’t it a bit too b-big ?” “You could say that. Do you mind ?” “No, I like it that way.” “I would know.” You smirk followed by felix’s gasp. “If you so desperately wanted a cat boy you know you have me right ?” Nudging your shoulder, Sage leapt into the conversation. “What is he talking about ?”  Felix grumbled, only to notice two fuzzy triangular fabrics on top of his head as he brushed his fingertips over it.

He’s obsessed with your hands, kissing your knuckles, drawing circles in your palm. At a certain point it became an involuntary gesture he does it quite often without realizing.

He’s also canonically extremely blushy but he would never admit it. You’re convinced he uses some sort of make up because it is not possible for the pink dusting his cheeks to look this good.

He insists that you’re cold even in the warmest weathers because he wants to see you in his coat.

Sage forces Felix to take his thirst trap Tiktoks.

He really appreciates it when you add to his herbal tea collection without him noticing and he considers it a sign of affection because he takes his tea very seriously.

He loses it when you call him baby he gets flustered and frustrated but it’s all because it rolls off of your tongue so nicely that he can’t get enough of it.

Felix owns a broad collection of scented lip balms some of them are tinted. You didn’t hear this from me.

He never once took anything the Sage says seriously until he saw how well you two got along. He never thought that he would be standing there taking relationship and flirting advice from the frat boy.

Felix is a complete asshole when he wants to. He’s very verbal about it too. Consistent sarcastic remarks and eye rolls. I mean it runs in his blood, look at Escell.

You love it when he suddenly whips out the confident Felix, it’s not a daily occurrence you know.

When Felix is concentrated, he’s lost and there’s almost no way you or anything else can distract him. So it’s time to grab some colorful hair clips and ties to fuck around with his hair.

Felix is not the best at verbally expressing his gratitude towards you. He doesn’t know what he would do if you weren’t there for him at the lowest points of his life where normally he would close himself and bare the weight of his family problems and personal life issues that he can’t seem to get out of. Now he has you, someone who’s willing to listen to him and offer him a warm embrace when he needs the most. 

While you to play games together, when he wins he wears that iconic shit eating grin of his with pride looking at you through the corner of his eye. “Shit, what do you want me to say to that felix ? Perhaps I should call you master now that you won ‘one’ fucking round.” He is praying that the screen light is covering the fact that he is a blushy mess after hearing you say that.

NSFW

I cannot stress this enough but he is extremely vocal in bed. Whining, trying to restrict himself from making too much noise but failing miserably.

Muffled pants, choked sobs and lots of pleasure infused tears.

He loves getting praised during sex but what he loves more is to get praised after it’s all over. Like you telling him how great he was, how well he behaved, how good he made you feel. He experiences sub drops a lot so please assure him that he did well :(

He’s into power-play but not in a submissive or dominant kind of relationship, it’s more of a psychological thing where the fact that he can see how good he makes you feel gives him a rush of confidence and adrenaline.

I believe that this motherfucker is a masochist, pain makes him more excited than getting an update on his favorite author who went on a year long hiatus and that is saying a lot.

Bite him. Scratch him. It is so stimulating for him he can reach his high just from those actions.

Fuck do anything to his ears bite, lick, pull, blow on it. He is extremely sensitive so anything you do will basically drive him out of his mind. It will most definitely lead to him trembling beneath your fingertips.

You must think that you are the only one who is such a tease but you’re wrong. Felix teases you quite often mostly to direct your attention towards him or to keep your attention on him. He’s quite greedy when it comes to you and your hands on his body. Unbuttoning unnecessary amount of buttons on his shirt to show a little skin that he knows you’ll notice. Playing with his necklace placing the chain between his lips dragging it towards the inside of his bottom lip teasing the metallic charm with the tip of his tongue. He definitely ain’t oblivious he knows exactly what he’s doing and he makes sure that you know exactly what he’s doing.

When he’s in the mood he will tug the hem of your top meanwhile his eyes are glued to the floor or graze the temples of his glasses between his lips, his teeth lightly nibbling the pointy edge. He loves to play dumb too. When you question him, he acts like he doesn’t intend anything and that you need to get your head out of the gutter.

At the end of the session Felix looks divine. Drool leaking down from his bottom lip to his jaw line towards his neck, his bangs sticking on his sweat coated forehead, his chest rising up and down quickly. His eyes rolled at the back of his head, his hands still clutching tightly to the sheets. Faint whimpers and deep breaths filling the air.

Leading up to the after care, his shy self returns. He buries his face to your chest hiding his blushy cheeks beneath the palms of his hands.

He likes to experiment a lot and you are his favorite subject.

It shouldn’t be surprising to find random kink definitions or role-play ideas on the search history of your laptop. After all Felix just asked for it to write an email, that’s all there is to it. That’s until you offer to try them out.

He doesn’t act upon his jealousy, what he does instead is that leaving marks on you especially around your neck and your chest where he knows it will show. Don’t cover them up if you don’t wanna deal with him.

“People just don’t appreciate art anymore.” “Felix these are, hickeys.” “Oh so now you are judging my art medium ?” “Since when proving Sage that I got railed by you is a form of art ?”

I didn’t see anyone point this out but whenever he is in the sub space he tends to be more on the bratty side. He starts of shy but his confidence builds up as the tension rises. Meaning that you should be ready to get your patience tested.

When you two are in separate places your suggestive words and tone leads up to phone sex, which Felix secretly fantasized about a lot. What made everything even more dirty was the fact that you didn’t know that he was laying on your bed surrounded by your scent and humping your pillow. Once you come back home you are greeted with a fresh pair of sheets on your bed. Apparently Felix decided to do you a favor and clean your room as well as the the whole house. He’s crossing fingers that you don’t notice because he knows that he’ll never hear the end of it.

Felix knows a lot about sex but his knowledge is based upon fiction rather than experience. So, naturally, he is more interested about learning specifically how your body responds to certain actions, what you enjoy and what you’re interested in so teach him. He’s a good student and oh well he’s a quick learner.

Pull his hair pull his hair put his hair pull his hair pull his hair pull his hair pull his hair pull his hair.

When he settles between your legs as he ties his hair, he places the hairband between his lips and looks up at you with half lidded eyes. It’s his definition of torture.

Even though he doesn’t give off that vibe, he is very freaky if you would’ve known what his AO3 tags consisted of you would agree.

Tag list is open

#felix escellun #felix #fictif felix #last legacy #fictif #fictif last legacy #nyx hydra #felix escellun x reader #felix x reader #mc #felix fictif

[rightsockjin]

Timbs part 2

Hello beautiful people! Merry Christmas and Happy holidays! Since this blog has grown so much even during the time of our temporary hiatus, and this story (Timbs from the dynamite series) continues to get attention, I thought that I'd listen and write a part two! Happy Christmas Y'all! Also, I do want to address some stuff that is in this pic. First off, as a group, the writers at right sock decided to give each member of BTS a permanent girlfriend. So basically, nicknames which will make it easier to refer to other girls. This is the first real place you will see that. Y/N is nicknamed Bunny in this. But Y/N is used as well. Just incase it confused you.

Anyway! On to what we all came here for!

Summary: After your last encounter with your best friend and the words exchanged, you aren't sure where you stand... but maybe you should focus on where you lay...

Rating: M! Big M!

Genre: Smut, angst, fluff. All the good stories are hehe.

word count: Drum roll please....7,378!

Warnings: Stalking, being eaten out, mentions of blowjobs, kink talk. someone walks in during the deed....kinda. Jealousy. General meanness. Naked people y'all. nipple stuff. I think that’s all??

Part one

Master list

He closed the door behind him. It thudded thickly in the small apartment of his that you frequented. It was in the same state as you had seen it the last time you had been over. Boxes were still packed, dust covered the old furniture, save for the couch that had been a combined gift from all of his friends as he was the last to move out, that had come with the appartnemnt appartment, and heaps of bubble wrap and packing peanuts littered the floor. You crossed your arms and rolled your eyes.

Your nose itched and you could feel a sneeze coming on. With a slight shake of your head, you looked over your shoulder and gave your best friend the look. Eyebrows slightly raised at the center, a light smile teased your nude, mint chapstick coated lips. A hint of incredulity mixed with “really?” and some other emotion that you tried to snuff out completely. Something akin to fondness perhaps?

Jungkook had his black shirt covered back to you. His hair was grazing his lower ears and lightly ruffled as he turned to look at you after checking that the door had indeed locked as he forgot to lock his door constantly which made no sense because it was an automatic lock, but somehow, he had already gotten people accidentally walking in on him in less than opportune moments. Namely, this girl who lived near by was always accidentally walking into his apartment thinking it was hers, but you surmised that she couldn’t possibly be that stupid and was coming in purly because she thought Jungkook was cute and single.

You knew this because one time, you had been over and she “accidentally” walked in while Jungkook was in the restroom with a cute little confused face on which fell as soon as she saw you lounging on the couch eating a particularly stringy mango. She stumbled through an awkward apology before quickly closing the door and going to her actual apartment.

But Jungkook was convinced that she was just very lost and very new to the building. You couldn’t bear to break it to him. Or maybe you didn’t want him to realize that she most likely had a crush on him. A creepy, stalkery crush… maybe you should tell him...

Jungkook’s mask sat slightly under his nose. His eyes widened when he noticed you staring, completely zoned out from your light flashback. He blinked in confusion, frozen for a second before he slowly crossed his arms and raised his own eyebrows at you.

You shook your head and scrunched your eyebrows at him then. Your hands held up in question. A stance that clearly said “what are you looking at me like that for? I’m the one judging you here.”

Again, with mirth in his eyes and his nose scrunched slightly, signaling that he was smiling under his face cover, he mimicked your stance. He leaned down slightly to get on your level. His mistake. You would think he’d learn by now.

You smacked the side of his head lightly enough that you were sure it didn’t hurt but also hard enough to get him out of this weird theater mirror exercise thing he was doing.

“Ow? What the fuck, Bunny,” he questioned, closing one eye tightly and rubbing the spot on his head you had tapped as if you had bruised him.

You rolled your eyes but reached up and patted his head lightly before giving his hair a small scratch that you knew he loved as an apology. Without fail, he smiled down at you with squinty eyes and a scrunched nose. The fondness in his eyes reached your own body. A sense of calmness. Your body relaxed.

You made to remove your hand from his hair, but he put his own hand over yours, begging you to keep it on his head for a second longer. You complied, only because you liked to mess with his hair almost as much as he liked for you to mess with it.

Jungkook ripped his mask off as you mused his hair gently. His breathing slowed and he let himself take yet another step closer to you. The scent of sweet pea flowers danced around him like a lullaby.

He was tired. He hadn’t realized he was tired until that very moment, since your outing hadn’t really been something to tire him out. He was usually fairly energetic around you and lunch was hardly an activity that would make him feel tired, but now, a nap was sounding really nice. He wondered if you would nap with him if he asked.

But then your hand was off his head and you were stepping away and the peace was lifted. He snapped his eyes open, a pretty pout decorated his pink lips which went ignored by you.

“You should really unpack all this stuff Kookie. The dust is really obnoxious.”

And then you rubbed the underside of your nose and sniffed aggressively. Jesus, how were you this...breathtaking? He felt the emotion building in his chest. It compressed into his ribs and pressed on all his organs. It grew bigger and bigger until it felt like he would explode. Almost like the weeks before when you had your head between his legs with your saliva dribbled down his cock and onto his-

AACHOOoo!

Jungkook was nearly knocked off his feet with the force of his sneeze. Instantly, the pressure in his chest loosened a bit but not entirely. Not enough. He blinked down at his body, feeling betrayed.

He could already feel his nice slacks starting to squeeze around his middle. He could only stand there in shock as he watched blood flow to his third leg. He had really thought that he had gotten past the phase of his crush on you where every little thing you did turned him on.

But then again, sucking him off while he fingered you in a barely lit room wasn’t exactly a little thing. It was huge. And he wasn’t just talking about his dick.

If he was a braver man, he would have made something of that first encounter. Maybe asked you where you stood. Maybe confessed that as much as he thought you were beautiful in every physical way, he was highly attracted to you. Just you. The you that barged into his room whenever she felt like it. The you that texted him every morning with a synopsis of your crazy dream and used the word dick as a verb, a noun and an adjective at any given point.  The you that liked to bitch at him for every little thing he did because it was out of affection.

But no. You had left that day and neither you nor him had mentioned it once while you hadn’t rejected any of his date invitations, he couldn’t muster the courage to actually ask what your relationship was. Not even in passing. He was starting to wonder if it had actually even happened or if he had imagined it, but every time he goes for his laptop and sees the dent on the edge where it hit the floor, he is forced to recall the sweet scent of flowers and your dripping center.

He had to stop that. If he kept letting his head wonder this way…

Well, he wouldn’t do anything to make you uncomfortable, which is why he hadn’t brought it up. Or that’s what he told himself.

“Well bless you,” you said with a slight giggle, “That sounded like it hurt.”

Jungkook forced his awareness away from his crotch, realizing that if he wanted you to not see it, it would be best to not draw more awareness to it himself and the limb that was awkwardly sticking to his left leg.

“A-a little. Maybe you’re right. I really should sweep this place. I just haven’t had time since i’ve been spending so much time out with you.”

You scrunch your nose at him. His cheeks were a little red, though you assumed it was from the cold outside since the tip of his nose was also a bit red. Then, he pushed his hair out of his face, you noticed that so were his ears.

Weird. He only ever got rosy ears when he was embarrassed? Well he should be. His apartment was a mess. He probably shouldn’t have even moved out. You doubted that he knew how to clean his own ass let alone do his laundry. You were going to tell him exactly that, sass locked and loaded but something- maybe it was the way his pants fit or the way that his chest protruded through his shirt or the muscles in his arms- told you to look down.

His thighs were always your favorite part of him. So strong. Rideable. How could you not when he spent so much time making sure that they were solid as a rock. You could salivate, in fact you were salivating thinking of the last time you had your mouth anywhere near those legs and his dick deep in your throat.

If you really focused, you could fool yourself into thinking that he was hard in that instant. But no. Wait. Was it? Was he?

You snapped your eyes back to your friend. Your friend that you wanted to be more than that but you refused to say so, to see that he was looking around the apartment thoughtfully.

“Why don’t you go home for today, Y/N? I should get started on-,” he cleared his throat and visibly swallowed, hoping that if he got rid of you quickly enough, then you wouldn’t have a chance to notice the log that was in his pants.

You on the other hand weren’t sure what to do. His suggestion made you do a double take. Your boundary issues had not been resolved from last time. And this was evident in what you said next.

“Gonna beat it to the last time you got a real blow job instead of asking for one or what? Small dick energy.”

And who else could that have been than you? Your brain caught up to your mouth a second too late to take anything back. The words floated out in the open like an invitation. Well, wasn’t it? Isn’t that what you had meant? Probably. Your brain tended to go that direction when it came to Jeon Jungkook but had you really just offered him a blow job?

There was a second in which Jungkook’s face steadily turned the color of a cherry tomato and he began to sweat slightly. His eyes were wide and he was looking at you like he must have misunderstood. Were you speaking the same language?

His body tensed and blood pumped predominantly to his cheeks or his nether region. He felt a little faint even. Was the room spinning? It felt like it could be.

You watched him reel and try to compose himself. This was similar to the last time you guys had partaken in activities that weren’t usually shared by platonic friends. And like that instance, you felt the urge to run. To get out before he had a chance to don his other persona. The one that makes you weak in the knees and something of a brat.

“Is that like an offer or are you being an ass?” he asked, sass dripping from his tone. He pushed both hands into his pockets, the tips of his fingers grazed his hardened rod, already sensitive despite it not being entirely hard.

You crossed your arms, not sure if you wanted him to take you up on your invitation or if you wanted to retract it.

Jungkook took a step closer to you, waiting patiently for you to find your voice. He wasn’t going to pressure you. As much as he had enjoyed it last time, he couldn’t live with himself if you did something just for his sake.

You leaned against the back of his couch, the head rest was pushed slightly against your lower back, grounding you.

“No pressure, Y/N,” he assured, suddenly feeling like the playful tone that this activity had taken on the last time may seem a little pushy if you really didn’t want to partake once again.

But this solidified in your mind that as much as he seemed turned on, he clearly had enough respect for you to make sure you really were into the situation as much as he was. This was enough to push any feelings of unease aside and focus just on what was being given.

“I mean… honestly, don’t you kind of owe me for last time? I basically did all the work and you just sat there like a rock.”

Jungkook gaped at you, he put a hand over his heart and scooted slightly closer so that there was only a foot of distance between the both of you now.

“You were the one calling the shots babe. If you wanted me to do something more than just shake that,” Perfectly sculpted and hard work evident, “ass then you should have said something.”

His vibrato dropped for a second, his eyes met yours, “I’d do anything you ask of me, Bun.”

Your heart palpitated wildily in your chest. The words he had spoken to you that night came back to you then. You dreamed of those words. Hoped he would say them again in a different setting but never had even acknowledged that it had even happened, so you were left only with dreams and foggy memories of the way your name sounded on his sweet lips and the three words that you craved to hear.

He’d probably said it in the heat of the moment. The emotions were high and your climaxes had just...well climaxed so maybe it wasn’t that he L-worded you. It was that he L-worded what had just happened.

The issue then was that you did mean them. You meant when you said that you L-worded him so the blow of your relationship staying exactly the same as it had been before, nearly made you want to cut ties with him completely out of pure embarrassment. But you couldn’t. Because he didn’t let you. Any time you didn’t answer your phone, he was at your door. Any time you avoided set dates, he’d find you. The jerk wouldn’t let you leave, and you were too weak to let him go anyway.

But then there was that sparkle of...something, in his big eyes that made him seem so genuine and willing. Subconsciously, he licked his lips and you could only imagine those same lips on you. His head between your legs.

Could you take his offer? Did you have the courage to ask for what you wanted?

“A-anything?”

Junkook’s teeth made an appearance before he chuckled lowly, “Do I make you nervous? Is- is that’s what’s going on here?” He asked, gesturing between you two with one finger. Confidence poured out of every pore.

Instantly, you scoffed. Because no. Jungkook, baby boy, bunny teeth Jeon didn’t make you nervous in the slightest. But then why did your voice get stuck in your throat? Why did your mind go blank? Why were you fidgeting incessantly?

Jungkook hissed, a laugh chimed deep in his throat, “Who would have thought that the only thing I needed to do to get you to shut up was to offer to do you? Wish I would have known this years ago! I would have offered more often.”

He crossed his arms over his chest, the muscles flexed against his shirt. Your body thirsted at the sight. What would he look like on top of you? Pinning you down?

Your eyelid felt heavy. Lust coursed through your body. If you could just speak-

“So what will it be? Want me to eat you out? Fuck you? Spank you? Or are you more of an orgasm denial type of girl? You know, if this is going to work out, we should really talk about those kinks. Maybe think of a safe word? Or are you not that kinky? Cuz I’m pretty kinky so we should definitely talk hard limits as well-”

You watched him monologue in complete shock. Did he think that this was going to be a common occurrence? No. You didn’t usually sleep with guys just for the hell of it unless you were never going to see them again, and Jungkook clearly did not fit that criteria so no. You couldn’t just casually sleep with your best friend.

You opened your mouth to tell him this when you suddenly tuned back into the conversation.

“-and I mean… I know it might have been a bit fuzzy but I’ve had fun on our dates so far so I guess it’s natural that we take this to the next level? If- If that’s okay with you! Mama always told me that a gentleman never rushes his woman. Not that you’re mine! Or like that I own you or anything like that! No, no, I just mean that I like you and well you like me and like… the dates? So we’re like together? A couple? Should we have that conversation as well? I don’t know… what do you think, Y/N?”

You blinked at him in complete shock. Had you been dating Jungkook for the last couple of weeks and hadn’t noticed?

In hindsight, he had been paying for some of your meals and while he had done this on occasion, it had become more of a regular thing. He’d also been a lot more clingy than he had been. He’d even tried holding your hand  a couple of times only for you to panic and pull away.

All of this information seemed to hit you like a ton of bricks. Oh my God… You had been dating Jungkook! How the hell did you miss that??

When you didn’t answer, combined with the horrified expression on your face that he had no way of knowing wasn’t complete disgust at the idea of him touching you, Jungkook feel like a total idiot.

To him, it seemed clear that the last thing you wanted was for his nasty hands anywhere near you. Couldn’t he take a hint? Clearly not, because you hadn’t so much as tried to kiss him on the cheek and now here he was offering to eat you. Talk about jumping some steps.

He took a step back, trying to give you some room so as not to force himself on you but he could feel his heart constrict. He was not gonna cry. He was not gonna cry. He was not gonna- oh…

Tears pooled in his pretty eyes. They burned with emotion and he really wanted nothing more than for you to leave and never speak to him again while at the same time wanting to jump into your arms and be comforted.

Regardless of his feelings, he stayed rooted to the spot he was standing in, his hands folded neatly before him as he bowed his head in a small apology.

“Oh...I uh… I overstepped. I’m so sorry, Y/N… I didn’t mean to- to make you uncomfortable.”

He balled his hands into fists trying to distract himself from the emotional pain of the blow you had dealt.

You on the other hand, were struggling to come to terms with what was happening. How did you stop this from spiraling further? And.. was he crying? No! He couldn’t be crying! You had to stop this. He may be obnoxious and a baby but he was apparently… your… obnoxious baby!

Without thinking much, you closed the distance with one big step and wormed your arms around his torso. You shimmied your head under his chin. Jungkook seized for a second. Unsure what he should do.

But as the shock wore down, he let his body relax and wrapped his strong arms around your body as he was shocked with emotion. At the end of the day, you were his best friend and if he was going to be consoled after a girl broke his heart, it would be you who would do it, even if that girl who broke his heart… was you.

But then, why were you kissing his neck softly? Was he imagining it? No. Because in the next second, you were grabbing his chin with your thumb and forefinger- they were ice cold- and you were pulling his face to look up at you.

When your eyes connected, your heart shattered. The pools of tears turned to streams in the mountains of his cheeks then conjelled at the valley between his collarbones.

Of course, on top of his good looks, he was a pretty crier. That was so unfair. Almost as unfair as the beautiful fan of eyelashes that caught his sparkling tears. And the voice that could only belong to an angel that he possessed.

You couldn’t help the slight smile that crossed your chapstick lips and the fond scrunch of your nose before you closed the three inches or so of air that divided you. When your lips settled onto his, you felt rather than saw him freeze for the third time that day.

His lips were a little salty and a little minty. Vaguely, you remember him applying and reapplying his chapstick all day. Now you wondered if he had been doing it out of nervousness.

Then his hands were in your hair, pulling you closer, balled at the nape pleasantly. He was breathing hard. Like he’d run a marathon or danced a full concert.

His lips were pressed so firmly onto yours that you were sure they would swell and bruise after this. You let all semblance of control be taken from you. One of his hands slid down to the arch of your back tentatively. Like he was scared to break you or that you would tell him to get off.

You arched your back with his hand, pressing your high necked cotton shirt into his chest. You could feel his heartbeat through the fabric of his own shirt and the muscles that covered it.

With a sigh, you opened your mouth as he opened his lips and sandwiched your top one within his own.

You could feel that he was still crying, but you weren’t exactly sure why. You could ask later. Right now, all you wanted, all you knew he needed, was for you to kiss him and make it all better. To fix whatever it is you had done. You could piece him back together if you tried hard enough.

So when he began walking you backwards towards the couch, you didn’t fight. The hand on your back moved over to your hip. His lips were connected to yours, open wide, his tongue explored the wet cavern of your mouth. Teeth clashed awkwardly, the kiss was out of sync. You let him maneuver your head whichever way he wanted with the hand that was still firmly in your hair. He leaned over you. His body seemed to completely incompace yours. Your back was arched almost forty five degrees. It wasn’t painful at all. Instead, it pushed your hips flush against his.

His member, which had shrunk significantly only seconds before, was now growing again, filling with the erotic arousal that pulsed in his veins. A hulk in disguise was being pulled from the Bruce Banner you were so used to. And you were all too eager to let him show you this side of him.

Like a man on the brink of drowning, he pulled his mouth from yours. You couldn’t bring yourself to open your eyes. In a split second, he leaned down and picked you up from the knees. You wondered if he would carry you to his room or throw you over his shoulder, but he sat you down on the back of the couch before he placed a quick peck to your lips.

Then, like the sadist he was, he pulled away again, smiling up at you through red eyes. He wasn’t sure what this meant. If this was a sign that you too were too scared to bring up the relationship and the conversation that could change everything, but that could wait for another time. Right then, all he wanted was to show you, with his tongue, with his mouth, with whatever limb you let him, that he was falling for you. Hard.

Reluctantly, you opened your eyes. A sigh escaped your lips. If you opened your eyes, would it be over? Would he ask you to leave? Would it once again go back to how it was for the last couple of weeks?

Eventually, you did open your eyes. Jungkook could see the fear and unsteadiness in them. The red around the brown made you hurt deeply in your soul. A tender hand reached out to cup his cheek. The light scratch of your freshly done nails was pleasurable to his senses. Goosebumps. Then a strong shiver. And he felt himself melt for the girl he had known for so long. And you for the man whom you had watched grow from a frightened boy.

“Are you going to touch me or are you going to punish me for all the times I left you high and dry,” you laughed. Even in this tender moment, you couldn’t hold your tongue, but Jungkook didn’t mind. The engine of his brain was whirring and he could hear, all he could see and feel, was you...you...you. Nothing but you and the way your hair hung under your chest and covered your left eye. Nothing but your chest rising and falling and the smile on your kissible, bruised lips.

How could he help himself? The answer? Would always be you.

He kissed your nose, then your cheek. An eskimo kiss. You giggled. It was the most beautiful music to his ears.

“You want me to Bunbun?” Internally, he cringed at his overly affectionate name but you smiled brighter and the insecurity left as soon as it came.

“Is that my name now?”

“If you want it to be, or you could choose another one?”

You wrapped your arms around his neck, now that you were almost level with his eyes- though now you were a bit taller than him. You shrugged.

“I like it. Bunny, Bun, BunBun, any variation.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” you confirmed.

“Who knew you were this cheesy, Y/N?”

You rolled your eyes at him playfully as you opened your legs so he could slot himself between them. You pulled him closer and wrapped your legs around his waist. A mischievous smirk crossed your lips.

“What’s with the face,” he asked, sniffling a little.

“What face,” you asked, feigning innocence.

“This face,” he countered, gesturing vaguely at your eyes.

“Oh this? Ah well you see,” and then without ending your thought, you let yourself fall backwards with your legs and arms wrapped tightly around his frame. He was much heavier than you and clearly more muscular but with the weight distribution you were able to pull him over the back of the couch and twist both yourself and him so you landed on the cushions. His body atop yours.

By the look on his face, he clearly had not expected you to pull him, nor did he expect for his center to land directly on yours, but the shock gave way to the joy and fun that tended to encompass your everyday encounters.

His high pitched giggle of a laugh made an appearance which caused a multitude of butterflies to flutter through your intestines and chest. He relaxed into you, laying his head cautiously onto your breasts, pushing his middle away from your heated core. (yes, he noticed)

He could hear your heart beating against the- hehe squishy- lump of fat on your chest. Instantly, he knew that he could spend eons on your bosom uninhibited and satisfied.

But the pulse of his confined member made his head swirl with thoughts less than innocent.

When your nails lightly scratched at his back and the smallest, lightest moan left your lips, he knew you must be on the same page. Or at least, he hoped. Spurred on by the heavenly shapes and your inquiry from a couple seconds before, Jungkook picked his head off your chest and hovered over your left breast.

There was a question in his eyes as he looked between your boob and your face. One which you couldn’t answer verbally as your heart rate picked up and the lust poisoned your veins.

With the slightest nod, he had everything he needed to lean down and lightly nip at the mound through the thin material of your beige shirt. The warmth of his breath traversed the stitches easily. It sent pleasant shivers through your body, settling in your core.

He nibbled softly around what he hoped was your nipple, before he kissed the center of the mound with tender lips. His eyes stayed looking up at yours, searching for any signs that he should stop. You bit your lips and took a deep breath, dropping his questioning gaze and letting him take the reigns once again.

Jungkook felt you relax into him. Relief flooded his chest. With a little more confidence, Jungkook looked with his mouth for the hardened bud of your breast and pulled it softly between his teeth. He was rewarded with a moan, only slightly louder than the one before and he realized, he wanted you screaming. He wanted you to moan his name. Hear your voice penetrate through the walls of his apartment and disturb the neighbors. This was his new goal.

“Y/N,” he said softly trying to get your attention. Instantly, you looked down from your position, your pupils were blown wide. A beautiful sight.

“Is it okay if I-” and then his confidence waned and so he gestured to your shirt with his eyes a couple of times. You smiled at him.

“Mhm, go for it Kookie.”

Was this what it felt like to be called a good boy? Because Jungkook loved it. He needed more. More. More.

Eagerly, Jungkook untucked your shirt from your pants and bunched  it up right under your boobs. The expanse of skin that he had exposed seemed like an oasis in a desert. He couldn’t help the pull of gravity that connected his lips to your stomach. They were not soft, nor gentle. They were fast and more pecks than anything. They tickled your skin as he tried to cover every single open spot with his love.

He worked his way up and nudged your shirt higher with his nose.

“Y/N?”

“Yes, Jungkook?” You asked exasperated.

“Can I take this off?”

You groaned, “Yes. Take it off. All of it, my shirt, my pants, my underwear. Whatever you want. You have my permission.”

Sheepishly, Jungkook obeyed. You raised your arms over your head and arched your back to make it easier for him to undress you.

He pulled it off swiftly, ruffling your hair in the process. He tossed the shirt aside, excited to see what he was unwrapping. He wasn’t disappointed. Had you known you would be undressing for someone today? Or did your undergarments always consist of lavish fabrics and sexy shapes?

Jungkook didn’t care. He just felt honored to be able to see it. The see through fabric held together by underwire did little to hide the prize behind the clothing. Your nipples stood pert and puckered under it all. Begging to be released. He wondered if your underwear matched.

It was weird. The things one noticed when something monumental was happening. Like the golden stiching that held the bra together, or the way that the underwire dug into your skin to hold your perfect breasts in place.

Then in a second, he was moving again, frantically unbuttoning your pants and ripping them off your body without hesitation. He must know. It was life or death for him   to know if your underwear matched.

He tossed the pants in the opposite direction of the discarded shirt. He watched it fly over a lamp and land on a box that he thought had his art supplies. With bated breath, he turned to look at you. It felt as if his whole life had been leading to this moment.

And yes. The answer was that you were wearing a set. His mouth salivated as the scent of your arousal hit his nose. He wanted nothing more than to bury his face in your folds and die.

But he slowed down and took in every inch of your body. He wanted to remember it. Every freckle, every curve. He wanted a picture to hang in his bathroom or to draw you on his ipad so he could use it to jerk off when you weren’t around because after this, he knew that no other image would do it for him. Not anymore

He watched your chest heave. He looked up at your face again, asking for permission even though you had already given it to him.

“Jungkook, if you don’t touch me in the next five seconds I’m gonna bite your dick off,” you growled.

Oof… that was not one of his kinks, thank you very much, but it was the last push he needed, because he slithered down your body and pulled your legs around his shoulders staring at the promise land between your legs.

He could already see a bit of your natural lubricant running down your lightly covered slits.

You watched him, entranced by how hypnotized he seemed by your entrance. A laugh gurgled at your throat.

“Wow, if I knew that all it would take to shut you up was for me to wrap my legs around your head, I would have done it sooner,” you teased.

But the laughter died on your lips as jungkook opened his mouth wide and licked a thick stripe from your entrance to your clit. Even with the fabric in between his tongue and your skin, it felt like heaven.

“Fuck, Jungkook…” your hand flew to his hair, tangling in the locks of deep noir that you loved to braid when you two sat together watching a movie.

He kissed up and down your lower lips lovingly, lickig his lips as if it was the most delicious thing he had ever tasted in his life.

He hummed, sending a long vibration to your core which clamped around thin air as if trying to stop it from leaving.

“I can’t wait to really taste you, Bunny… fuck you’re delicious…” Every word was like a strike to your center. Arousal gushed from your entrance that made jungkook’s eyes sparkle in earnest enthusiasm.

Without asking, he pulled your underwear to the side, and buried his face in your juices. A bit of self consciousness wormed its way into your brain. He could be lying about how it tastes. Did it smell okay?

But the devilish sounds of him slurping and sucking at your folds pushed the thoughts away. He held your ass up, pulling you closer and closer to his face. He never felt like he was quite close enough. His nose brushed continuously against your clit and when he noticed the way you screamed under your breath every time it happened, he made it his mission to continue to do just that as he laved at your pulsing hole.

You had been hiding all of this from him. The paradise between your legs. The treat at your center. He wouldn’t let you hide from him any longer. He’d rather perish than to go one more day without your center at his lips.

Short, consecutive moans fell from the petals of your lips. Your orgasm built slowly at first, not coming to a head- both literally and figuratively and he could tell. He pushed his tongue into your entrance. Your walls closed on it, trying to keep it inside. His name came from your lips like a prayer. But it wasn’t enough. He wanted you to scream his name. To never be able to think of another doing what he was doing to you in that moment, so when your eventual crash came, he was less than satisfied.

You were breathing heavily. Your legs twitched. Jungkook ripped his face from your core only because you pulled harshly at his hair. From his nose to his chin, he shone with your cum. If there was anything hotter than that you couldn't picture it.

But then he was standing, and he ripped his belt from the loops and began to undress.

Looking over his shoulder as he pulled his pants down he said, “Take off your bra and underwear. Are you on the pill?”

Shocked, you followed his demands, though they were given loosely. You shook your head no and he gave you one nod of confirmation.

“I have condoms. You’re not allergic or anything right?”

Again you negated his question with a shake of your head and he half smiled.

“We could stop if you want-”

“Don’t be a fucking tease, JK,” you rolled your eyes and spead your legs, hooking one on the head rest of the couch so he could see your abused lips which were dripping for him.

His eyes widened only for a second, but then he tore his shirt off and scrounged for his wallet where he kept a condom. He ripped it open with his bunny teeth and pulled his underwear off unceremoniously.

You watched in fixed fascination as his cock sprang free of its confines, so hard that it looked painful. It was bound to feel good.

He rolled the condom on carefully before he situated himself between your legs and wiped your juices from his face. He was partially on his knees and partially standing. It was easy to find your entrance with your legs spread so wide.

When his head pushed in, you let your head fall back. Maybe it was because you already had one orgasm under your belt or maybe Jungkook’s dick was just a good fit but pure pleasure filled your body. He watched your reaction, gritting his teeth as your walls clamped down  around him, resisting his entrance.

“Does it hurt?”

You gurgled something that you couldn’t make out but Jungkook seemed to understand because he nodded and pushed in farther, slowly. He bottomed out, his balls gently hit your ass and your vagina clenched, feeling every ridge of his member within you.

“Fuck… Y/N… I… I don’t know how long I can last…”

It was so sensitive. Every little twitch of his dick felt monumental. In all honesty, you weren’t sure if you could last either.

“Move,” you managed.

You didn’t have to tell him twice. He pulled out slowly then slammed back into you. Your skin clapped loudly in the mostly empty apartment. You whimpered. Your back arched. He pulled out again, then slammed back in. His pace was marked. Timed. It made your boobs jiggle as he grabbed your hips to help you meet his movements.

Cute little ‘ah’s filled his ears. They got higher pitched as you neared your end. Jungkook couldn’t believe his luck. You were so tight. So wet and the way your walls closed around him made him grow close to his end much quicker than he ever had by hand.

“Y/N… I’m gonna… I’mma…”

But you beat him to it. Your pussy clamped down and fluttered around him as your second orgasm crashed upon you.

You moaned his name as he continued to pound into you. Whines and pleas went unheard as he sped up. He needed you to know who you belonged to… in like a totally consensual way.

You were so sensitive, but the pain of over stimulation gave way to pleasure far too soon and a third orgasm consumed you.

In pure shock, Jungkook grunted and moaned, your vagina got even tighter around him. And he came violently, with his dick mid thrust and his name bouncing off the walls in the tone of your exhausted voice.

Spurt after spurt of white, hot cum spilled from his member and into the condom. He was so caught up in his pleasure that he didn’t notice nor hear the front door open.

Both of you heard a gasp and footsteps. Jungkook, mid orgasm, snapped his heavy head to the sound. To his complete surprise and embarrassment, there stood the aloof neighbor that was always walking into the wrong apartment.

At first, you were embarrassed, being naked was not something you did frequently in the presence of others, but then you were upset. Angry. How stupid could one girl be? Shouldn’t she learn that this was not her place after a billion and one mistakes?

For a second, all three of you were frozen. Jungkook’s orgasm finished and his cock quickly deflated. He jumped to action quickly, throwing his body over yours to cover you before he looked back at the neighbor and said, “this isn’t your apartment!”

Over Jungkook’s toned shoulder, you watched her eyes dart to his exposed ass before they filled with tears.

“Oppa…” she said under her breath, before the tears streamed and she turned on her heels and hurried out.

Your blood boiled. It seemed you were right. She wasn’t stupid at all. She had a crush on your… person? Whatever he was. He was yours- in a ‘I want to be yours and like it’s totally okay for you to say that’ kind of way, and you were not going to put up with some random girl who clearly didn’t have boundaries.

Jungkook looked down at you, his cheeks were red and you could tell he was extremely uncomfortable.

Carefully, he pulled his softened member from your core and made a show of removing the condom then disposing of it. You began to put your underwear and bra back on, watching him walk around his apartment butt naked. Would he say something? Or would you have to bring it up?

After minutes of silence, you decided you would have to be the one to break the awkwardness.

“So uh… do you know what her actual apartment is? Maybe we can put a note on your front door for her to remind her,” you half joked, standing to find your shirt and pants, but settling instead for the button up he was wearing before.

Jungkook pulled his shorts on, his back was to you. There was a tenseness in his muscles that wasn’t going away and something in the air struck fear in the pit of your stomach.

“She lives next door.”

Something about the way he said it made you feel like it was a confession of sorts. It made you want to run.  But instead, you sat in his shirt as he rifled in his boxes for a pair of more comfortable pants before you decided to drop it for now, knowing that whatever it was that was hanging in the air around you wasn’t something you were ready for.

“Jungkook, where's your broom?”

“Uh…,” there was a hint of a laugh in his voice and some of the pressure lifted from the atmosphere, “was I supposed to buy one?”

You rolled your eyes for the millionth time that day and berated him for not having bought the basic necessities for his home. Everything felt lighter, but still like you were trending on eggshells. It felt like instead of taking a step forward, you had taken six steps back. You were no more clear on what you were or what to do than you had been the last couple of weeks.

You helped him unpack that day, because you knew he wouldn’t do it on his own. He joked with you as if nothing had happened, and you sassed him all the same but something was off… and you didn’t know if it could be fixed without it first breaking you both.

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