#why have i had this argument multiple times this fucking week???

[beneaththegildedmoon]

Absolutely begging my otherwise sensible fellow leftists to stop dismissing anyone who engages with voting and elections as a Stupid Liberal. Voting for someone as a leftist doesn't mean I agree with them, it means I'd rather fight against their bullshit than the even worse bullshit of whoever the other options are. It's a harm reduction tactic to avoid making our own fight harder than it needs to be.

Refusing to vote for "the lesser evil" because of your own reactionary purity politics actively erodes what remains of a political left wing while allowing even greater harm to come to those most vulnerable in our society. Refusing to acknowledge there are objective and concrete differences between political parties and dubbing them "all as bad as each other" actively ignores the direct and immediate danger specific policy differences can have for poc, trans people, disabled people, poor people, homeless people, and otherwise marginalised folks.

Electoral politics is not the battleground where we will win the fight against capitalist oppression, but the people are also not about to pick up their pitchforks and storm parliament tomorrow. This fight will take years if not decades, and I would rather spend that time fighting progressives and liberals than conservatives and right-wingers.

#also fuck you if you're one of the “maybe we just need to let things get worse so people will realise revolution is the only option” people #way to say you are willing to sacrifice the lives of anyone more vulnerable than yourself so you can stand on principle #i hate liberals as much as the next leftie but fuck me i wont pretend theyre the same as literal white supremacist fascists #if party X is advocating for genociding trans people and the party Y isnt ill vote for party Y even if they both want to privatise the NHS #bc id rather have to fight for the NHS than have to fight for the NHS and against genocide at the same time #ill still die on these hills but wouldnt it be nice if there were less hills? #why have i had this argument multiple times this fucking week???

[iliveinprocrasti-nationn]

i hate going “hey i might not be up to hanging out im just not doing well mentally” but also i know if im either constantly panicking or completely out of it while we’re hanging out then it won’t go well

#got into a fight with my mum because she was like ‘well why r u still scared when we’re not seeing massive waves and hospitals aren’t #overrun and this 80 year old family friend has had it three times and is fine every time #and do you look at what people who don’t have the same opinion of you are saying’ #my response to this was ‘no I do look at the scientific articles that come out though and most of the ones about covid are finding it does #damage to multiple parts of the body’ #like. i already have fibromyalgia. we’ve removed the cancerous tumor but i still have iodine radiation and have to hope the cancer cells #they found in my blood vessels didn’t go far enough to spread and if they did that the iodine destroys them #like. is a kid with fibromyalgia not enough. im not doing chemo so it’s fine right just get me sick #does she not fucking remember how it destroyed her husband. she watched it we all fucking watched for weeks as he withered away from this #fucking disease #and then everything we didn’t see we got in twice daily calls from the hospital as they told us how his kidneys failed and they were excited #when he could breathe on his side for two hours instead of just on his stomach and then it killed him #am i the only one in the household who remembers seeing my dad as a barely breathing corpse when we forced him to go to the hospital because #he couldn’t say three words or walk a few steps without panting like he’d just done a sprint #im tired of her making me feel crazy for not wanting this disease im not irrational or insane for this i promise i promise im not #im tired of her coming in 5 minutes after i leave an argument going ‘don’t be angry with me. it’s just that-‘ and then making my only safe #place in this house a part of the argument too #fuck it it’s fine I’m out in a few months anyway #vent tw #sittin g in a corner rn so that the only open space is in front of me and i can pull my legs up to my chest and my fan is on and my windows #are open and im tired of being called crazy and paranoid and irrational #covid tw

[okcoolthanks]

How to stop feeling like an awful person after accidentally crossing someone’s boundary even though you talked to them about it and apologized and know you won’t do it again and they understood it was an accident and it’s fine and you two are still on good terms

#god I just #Ughhghhg #I can’t stop THINKING about it it wasn’t even that bad they said i was doing a bit and it was getting annoying #and I said i was sorry like multiple times and I said I won’t do that but again and they were like ‘no you can! it just got a little annoyi #ng it’s fine!’ and I still feel like a terrible person #I think I’m tired that’s gotta be it #or I’m mentally going through what I went through with my old friends and how I got mad at them and lashed out when I shouldn’t have and #refused to apologize and got into a big argument and then had one conversation about it and got mad again and then lashed out AGAIN and then #texted that I didn’t want to be friends any more and then I cried for weeks and every time I’d see one of them I’d want to throw up and I wa #s constantly miserable I didn’t want to go to school and I did everything that I could ok the comic because it was a fun distraction but it #also made me sad because I wanted to finish it and show it to them but they weren’t ever actually interested in it and I never got to show #them and I even made two characters in it based on two of my best friends in that group at the time and now I don’t know if I should delete #them entirely or keep it or change the characters???????? I don’t know #fuck #oh yeah one of those best friends basically took the plot of HBD and changed it a little and is gonna make a fucking short film with it #it’s a stupid fucking plot too it’s one of those like coming of age stories where the main character wears a ghost sheet and it’s actually a #metaphore for being socially anxious because he has a bad home life but then! then he’s walking to class and someone steps on the sheet and #it comes off! and they become best friends and they work through their problems! #Jesus fucking Christ I can’t believe her #I told her it was similar and that she should change it but we were gonna discuss that the week I texted I wasn’t coming back so #If she makes it I’m gonna sue her I don’t fucking care I told her I fucking told her and later that fucking day she ‘came up with it on her #own’ fucking Christ man get a life #I need to stop typing and go to sleep idk why I did that #sorry for the rant!

[theragethatisdesire]

pretty girl - jean kirschtein x afab!reader - 18+!!!

there's def more eren coming but while that's in the works please enjoy the result of the jean brainrot i experienced the other day. fair warning- it's going to get pretty rough, but that's what you asked him for ;)

pairing: reader x jean kirschtein

wc: 4.6k

DISCLAIMER: this post contains MATURE CONTENT that is intended only for those over 18. if you are a minor, please do not read below the cut.

CWs: smut, consensual hook-up, established relationship (jean's ur gorgeous bf lucky u), unprotected sex, oral sex (male receiving), face fucking, pretty rough sex, vaginal fingering, biting, dirty talk, penetrative vaginal sex, swearing, daddy kink, use of names (pretty girl, crybaby, good girl), very dom jean, multiple orgasm, dacryphilia/crying, creampie

this one was super fun and is very tasty u guys enjoy <3

-

-> be there in 5 babe :)

You are not looking forward to this, to say the least. You pace madly around your little apartment in a massive t-shirt and sweatpants covering the skimpiest lingerie set you own. It’s got all the bells and whistles: a matching garter belt, lace in all the right places, stockings that come up to where your plush thighs are the fattest. You should be looking forward to this, you tell yourself, candles lit and ambient lighting ready to go. You have a gorgeous boyfriend who’s going to “be here in five”, and you should be brimming with excitement. But…you’re just not.

Jean’s been in your life for a few months now. What had started as a run-in at the coffee shop around the corner had turned into candlelit dinners, movie marathons, and exclusive titles, and you adore him. His sandy brown hair, the tattoo on his strong bicep, pretty hazel eyes– Jean’s sexy, loving, sarcastic, attentive, literally everything you could ask for in a boyfriend. Except when it comes to your sex life, that is.

The sex isn’t bad per se, you just can’t shake the feeling that he’s holding something back from you. He’s almost too perfect; he’s gentle with you, always taking care to ask permission before touching you, chaste kisses as he slides in, hand-holding in missionary. He cums every time, immune to the whiskey-dick you’d expect from his bourbon drinking habit, so you know he’s enjoying himself, but he doesn’t always seem all there. The fire just isn’t in him, and you know he has that side to him. You’ve seen those hazel eyes you love so much blaze, in a heated argument, at the gym. Why it doesn’t happen in your intimate moments is beyond you, it’s like he’s afraid to break you, like he’s not doing everything–

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Shit, knocking on your front door is what he’s doing.

You take one last look in the mirror: hair’s casual, but still sexy, makeup to a minimum, all straps and lace covered up by your inconspicuous pajamas. Time to potentially ruin your relationship.

“Hey beautiful,” Jean greets you with an innocent smile, “you look cozy.”

“Feel cozy,” you accept his kiss, chewing on your lip as he comes in. Your heart’s pounding in your ears; poor thing has no idea what’s to come. Maybe it’ll go well, you think; false hope might be the only thing that gets you to pull through with your plan.

“Have any movie ideas for tonight? I was thinking Hereditary, but only if you’re not too chicken…” Jean raises his eyebrows, a taunting smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. Ha! If only he knew all of the things you aren’t “too chicken” for.

You smile weakly, stomach churning. “Maybe. Can we just…can we just talk for a sec?”

Jean’s playful demeanor drops instantly, replaced by a faint frown. “What about?”

You amble over to the couch, playing with the strings of your sweatpants anxiously. How the fuck are you even supposed to bring this up? Your mind’s racing so quickly it draws a blank, and before you can stop yourself, you blurt: “Sex.”

“Sex?” Jean’s cheeks tinge pink. He hasn’t shaved in probably a week, a shadow covering his sharp jawline. God, he’s gorgeous, you can’t mess this up, you really can’t.

“Yeah,” you confirm, “sex. Our sex, to be clear.”

“I figured as much,” Jean’s sat himself beside you now, one eyebrow raised suspiciously. He’s not upset, not yet, but you’ve definitely caught him off guard.

“I– I feel like we’re on different pages,” you stammer– fuck you are so bad at this, “I just feel like sometimes you’re so…gentle, and you don’t necessarily, like, have to be?”

Jean’s frowning full on now, a precious little wrinkle appearing in the center of his forehead. You’ve hurt him, and your heart sinks. Probably should have started with the pros. “Like…what do you mean, by ‘don’t have to be gentle’?”

“Our sex life is great,” you try to smile enthusiastically, as if you don’t actually want to blow your brains out right now, “please don’t think I’m saying you’re bad in bed or anything. I just, like– okay, for example, have you ever tried anything rough?”

His mouth is a flat line. “Like what?”

“Like, handcuffs, or roleplay, any of that stuff.”

“What have you tried?” His voice is even, collected, but there’s something simmering in him that you can’t put your finger on. It’s not anger, but it tastes similar, running in the same vein but not quite there. It’s your turn to feel your face warm.

“I mean, I’ve tried handcuffs before. Some light slapping, spanking.” You’re twiddling your thumbs, confessing into your lap. You can feel his eyes on you.

“That it?”

“I guess.”

“Did you…enjoy that kind of stuff?” He’s taking the bait. You finally meet his gaze and it ignites a little fire in your stomach; he’s never looked at you this intensely, brows pinched together like you’re a puzzle he’s trying to figure out. All of these little mannerisms are tells, you’re intuitive enough to know that, but exactly what he’s trying to convey you just can’t figure out.

“Yeah.”

“How rough are we talking, here?” Jean sounds deeper than normal, the slightest bit of strain to his words. That’s definitely new; Jean’s the most unshakeable person you’ve ever met.

“If I’m making you uncomfortable, I–”

“You’re not making me uncomfortable,” an easy chuckle floats out of his mouth, “just trying to feel you out is all.”

Your brows furrow. “Feel me out?”

“Yeah,” he shrugs, “I’m surprised, that’s all.”

“Surprised?” Your nose wrinkles. “Did I ever give off the impression that I was, like, super vanilla or something?”

“No,” he laughs again, a bit of the tension melting from the room, “no, not that. We’re just still pretty new, that’s all. Wasn’t going to whip out everything in my toolbox ‘til I knew you were okay with it.”

That piques your interest; you think you’d very much like to see what’s in this toolbox of his. “So you do like some of this stuff?”

Jean rolls that thought over in his mind for a beat before responding, a suspicious smirk that you can’t read tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Yeah, I guess you could say I like some of this stuff.”

“We’re back to my original question then: what do you like?”

“I’m more worried about what you like,” Jean says, “especially since you won’t come right out and say it. Gonna make me guess?”

That’s your Jean, blunt as ever. The fire in your stomach sparks and spits at the conversation, teasing and tempting. There’s something playful to his words; you can’t shake this feeling that you’re missing something, that he’s toying with you, but you like it. You let him keep pushing, see where he’s leading you. “Sure, guess.”

“Do you like…” Jean trails off, examining you with his chin nestled between his thumb and index finger, “to be dominant?”

“No.”

“Submissive, then.”

“Yeah.” He likes that, you can tell by the way his eyes glint at you. Your teeth sink into your bottom lip.

“Like to be tied up?”

“Already told you about the handcuffs.”

“I bet you have a praise kink.”

That has you flustered. There’s a sinking sensation in your stomach that you’ve underestimated him, waded out too deep into the water, but fuck it, you’re already here. “How’d you know?”

Jean smiles, pleased. “I just do. Overstimulation?”

“Sure.”

“Orgasm denial? Degradation?”

“If I deserve it.” It’s a bold answer, but it makes Jean suck in a sharp “fuck” between his teeth. Oh yes, you’ve definitely underestimated him.

“You like to be punished, don’t you?” His hand has traveled up to cup your jaw, thumb playing absentmindedly with your bottom lip. There’s an anticipatory warmth gathering between your legs, and the air between you both is practically crackling, charged by the tension thrumming through both of your bodies.

“Yes,” it comes out in a breath, almost pathetic, but you can’t help yourself. He looks so good, always does, and now he’s grazing his eyes over you like he wants to take a bite.

“You know how safewords work?” You nod a bit too eagerly. “Ours is going to be red, okay?”

“Okay,” you’re agreeing, but you aren’t entirely sure what to, caught up in the soft rubbing of his thumb over your mouth.

“If your mouth is,” a deep breath shakes through his frame, “occupied, give me a sharp pinch with your nails.”

“I can do that,” the tension between you is palpable now, the room’s so hot that you’re surprised your wallpaper isn’t peeling off.

“Go to your room,” Jean releases you, eyes dark and hungry, “take your clothes off and wait for me on the bed. I’ll be in soon.”

You follow his instructions without thinking twice, as if a switch has flipped in your brain. Maybe it was his tone, an authoritative way of speaking that threatens consequence, or maybe you’re just so ready to see what this perfect boyfriend of yours has been hiding all this time. As you’re getting undressed, you realize he still doesn't know about your lingerie. You bite back a smile, kneeling on the bed. This is going to be so good.

A minute or so ticks by slowly, and just when your legs are starting to ache, Jean’s entering your room. His face darkens in a way you’ve never seen before when he sees your little get up; lightning shoots through your core.

“Put on a pretty outfit just for me?”

“Mhm,” you hum.

“That’s good,” he says in that slow drawl of his, “good girl.”

He’s only testing the waters, but you can feel your body viscerally react to the little pet name, shifting on your knees to mask your desperate attempt for friction, dampness spreading in your panties. Jean sees right through your act, smirking.

Jean joins you in undressing, slipping his shirt over his head. You take your time admiring his torso; miles of long, lean muscle, little ripples by his ribs trailing into a ridiculous six-pack. Jean’s a confessed gym rat, and it shows in every little line along his body. You have to blink and look away before you start salivating.

“Ah, ah, ah,” Jean scolds, tilting your head up towards him, “eyes on me, got it?”

“Got it,” you answer. Jean frowns.

“That’s not very nice,” he says, “try again.”

You go out on a limb. “Yes, sir.”

Jean’s eyes glint again in that mean, pretty way you saw earlier. You did good, you did good for him. “Much better. Get on the floor.”

You slide off of your mattress, practically buzzing with anticipation, settling on your knees in front of him. A low groan rumbles in Jean’s chest.

“Look so good like that, my pretty girl.”

Oh, you really like that, nuzzling against his hand on your head. Jean smiles down at you, inching his pants down until that little thatch of brown hair starts revealing itself. “Open up for me, nice and wide.”

Your jaw’s dropped, mouth open and tongue out, expectant. Jean smiles wider, sharp and dangerous, pulling his cock out for you. He taps the head against your tongue a few times, even slaps you with it, facade faltering for a fraction of a second to gauge your reaction. You’re good for him, sitting still and patient with your mouth still open, a drop of drool starting to slide off the end of your tongue. Jean makes a sound that’s somewhere between a groan and a chuckle.

“Oh, you’re an obedient little thing, aren’t you?” Your panties grow impossibly wetter, you wiggle on your thighs under him, earning yourself another slap of his cock on your tongue, heavy and drooling. “Gonna fuck this pretty face, okay?”

You close your mouth around his head, sucking lightly to show your approval. He’s not even touched you, not so much as a kiss, and your brain’s foggy, running like a hamster on a wheel chasing the circular thought of be good, be good, be good. Jean grabs your hair none-too-gently, tugging it at the roots, and starts canting his hips towards your mouth, muttering under his breath about how good you are, how good your mouth feels on him.

You lower your jaw ever so slightly, and before long, Jean’s picking up speed, knocking your gag reflex here and there and making you cough around him. He doesn’t seem overly concerned; in fact, he grins cruelly down at you when he hits an extra-sensitive spot, making you hunch and gag on him.

“Look at my pretty girl, so happy getting her mouth fucked,” he hisses when you moan around him, feeling the vibrations up his cock. He’s moving faster now, rougher than he’s ever been. You’re gagging with some regularity, tears welling up in your eyes and threatening to spill down your cheeks. You expect him to let up, give you some air, but it only spurs him on, and before you know it, there are thick streams of tears running down your face. Your jaw aches, your knees burn, but you stay, letting him use you how he pleases.

“Fucking crying on me,” Jean growls, “my cock too much for you?”

You try to answer with a shake of your head, but he’s relentless, fingers tightening in your hair and cock shoving to the back of your throat, making you retch.

“No, you love it, don’t you? My little crybaby.”

You’re so wet you can feel it gathering on the insides of your thighs, entirely soaked through your panties. You move your hips subtly, this way and that, desperate for friction. Jean notices, pulling out of your mouth but staying connected by a string of your spit.

“You squirming, pretty girl? Need some attention?”

“Yes, sir,” you rasp, nodding eagerly. Jean helps you up onto the bed, lays you back against his chest facing the mirror on top of your wardrobe. It’s a terribly lewd sight; you spread out in front of him, face swollen and teary, the telltale glisten of wetness glittering on your thighs.

Jean slides a hand down your body, rubbing you over your panties and nibbling at your ear. “You’re gonna watch me make you cum, and if I see you look away, I’m fucking you ‘til I cum, and you’re not getting a damn thing. Got it?”

“Yes, sir,” your voice wobbles pathetically. Jean seems to like it; his cock twitches in interest against your back. He pushes your panties to the side, flicking his fingers faster over your clit. Embarrassingly enough, you’re already nearing your halfway point from the face-fucking, moaning and grinding up into his palm.

“Need something?”

“Mhm,” you grit out, jaw clenched. Jean slaps your pussy; not too hard, but firm enough to make you jolt, bring you a moment of clarity.

“Manners,” he reminds you sharply.

“I’m sorry, I– can I please have a finger?”

Jean’s placated, slides one finger into you and laughs hot against your neck at the obscene sound that tears from your throat. “What do we say when we get what we ask for?”

“Thank you– fuck, thank you,” your words are coming out in puffs of breathe. Jean has long, skilled fingers, a fact you’re already familiar with, but the position he’s put you in has you dripping onto the sheets: forcing you to watch as he pumps in and out of you, grinding into your clit with the heel of his hand. You’ll be lucky if you last another minute.

“Feels good, doesn’t it? My pretty girl likes being full, right?” Jean murmurs, hot against the shell of your ear. “Tell me.”

“Yes, sir, I– I like it, I need– fuck!”

“What do you need?” Jean coos, entertained, as if he’s not unraveling you with just the one.

“I want one m-more finger, please,” you stutter, relieved you’re able to get the words out at all.

“Learning so fast,” Jean kisses your shoulder, granting your wish. His fingers are thick, the slight stretch making you throw your head back against his shoulder, hips rolling into his hand of their own accord. “Still looking?”

You force your head back to its upright position, mindful of the threat in his tone. His fingers work faster at your obedience, curling insistently against the gummy spot inside your walls that makes you see stars, makes you a little out of your mind with need. It’s that out-of-mind dizziness in your head that causes your little slip-up:

“Fuck, please, more- more, Daddy.”

Jean’s fingers still; it’s not until you’re halfway into a whine of disappointment that you realize what you’ve said. Your face burns; you meet his eyes in the mirror, yours shot wide and embarrassed. You trip over your words, trying to explain yourself. That definitely hadn’t been mentioned in your earlier conversation.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to say that, I just–”

“Just what? Already so fucked out you can’t think straight?” Jean curls his fingers pointedly against your walls, punching a groan from your chest.

“Yeah,” you sigh, head growing cloudy again.

“Say it again.” That definitely isn’t what you expect to hear him mutter against your neck. Jean works a third finger into your cunt with some difficulty, stretching you to your limits. “Fucking say it, or you’re not cumming.”

“Oh my God, D-Daddy,” your cries are pathetic, punctuated by whimpers. The bubble in your stomach is about to pop, the tension growing unbearable. You’re almost there, grinding into his hand pitifully and babbling, when Jean takes one of his hands to grab your throat roughly. He holds you captive, staring at your own stretched cunt on display for you in the mirror.

“Good, good girl,” he says, “now watch Daddy make you cum.”

The band inside you snaps viciously; your back arches away from him, and you squirt, gushing all over your bed sheets, inhuman sounds tearing from your throat where you struggle under his hand. Jean’s working you through the whole thing, still steadily pumping his fingers and whispering dirty little nothings into your ear. It finally begins to quiet, overstimulation washing over you. You push urgently at his wrist, mumbling something or other about “too much, too much”.

Jean mercifully obliges, pulling his hand from you with a shameful sucking sound, giving your pussy another light slap.

“Such a good girl for me, yeah? How you feelin’?”

“Good, so good,” you slur, “I’ve never– never…”

“Never squirted?” Jean’s eyebrows shoot up at your answering nod before a smug expression settles over his face. “Such a fun little toy, aren’t you? Just wait, you’ll get used to it soon enough.”

Your cunt clenches around nothing; so he can make you do that? Again? Jean’s slid out from behind you and is repositioning your limp body, dragging you down the bed by your ankles to line you up with his cock. He bends your knees up, pressing them close to your head. Jesus, he’s going to kill you at this rate.

“Want me to fuck you?”

“Please,” you hate the begging lilt to your voice, but you’re beyond fighting it. You gave up the reins a long time ago when you knelt for him, let him call you a good girl, let him fuck your throat.

“I’ve got you, pretty girl, Daddy’s gotcha,” Jean starts bullying his way into your pussy, still tight and pulsing from your orgasm. “Shit, got a tight little cunt, don’t you? Feels so good– fuck.”

You’re simpering under him, barely able to process the stretch of his cock in you. He’s well-endowed and you’re overwhelmed, a dizzying combination for your fucked-out brain to handle. Just when you think he might be in your throat he’s so deep in you, his hips press to the back of your thighs, both of you letting out a long groan at the feeling.

“So pretty,” Jean muses, not moving yet, just placing a thumb on your clit and absentmindedly playing with it, “such a beautiful pussy.”

You whine, frustrated. He glares at you, landing a harsh smack to your inner thigh.

“I’m not going to warn you again.”

“Please fuck me, oh God, please,” you pant, past the point of humility. Jean licks his lips, presses his palms deep into the backs of your knees, practically folding you in half. He gives you what you ask for.

You’re jolted back and forth on the mattress, mouth hung open in a silent scream as he splits you open on him, forces every inch deep into you. His tip’s kissing your cervix, pain blooming in your abdomen, but you don’t even care, so lost in the rhythm of his hips.

“Jean, I– oh my God,” you try to tell him how good he feels, but all you get is a firm hand around your throat.

“Who’s fucking this pretty cunt up, hm? Fucking you good and deep? Who is it?”

“Daddy,” you choke out, breathless, “Daddy’s.”

“There you go,” Jean’s focused on where you’re connected, eyes never leaving the frothy white ring forming around the base of his cock. You’re crying again, vaguely aware of the streams of tears running down your temples, into your hairline, but fuck, he just feels so good your brain can’t even process it. Jean takes notice, wipes one of your tears and licks it off of his thumb. “Cute fucking crybaby, all happy and cockdrunk, aren’t you?”

You whimper some semblance of an agreement, feeling the band of tension in you already getting stretched to a breaking point. He’s at an angle that allows him to hammer into the most delicious spot inside of you, rubbing against it with each thrust.

“Gonna cum soon, I– I’m gonna cum soon,” you manage, locking his gaze.

“Let me feel it, go on, do it for me,” Jean pants, squeezing your neck tighter. The lack of air goes to your head; the room spins until all you can focus on is him pounding into you. You cum violently, throbbing around his cock, thrashing against his strong arms. Jean fucks you through it, never losing his pace. “Good fucking girl, just like that.”

You’re practically wheezing as your senses return to you, clawing at Jean’s arm on your throat. He lets up on your neck, smiling down at you. “Feel good?”

“Mhm,” you hum, blissed out and half-asleep until Jean flips you, forcing you to prop up on your hands and knees. “Wait, Jean–”

“Wait?” Jean scoffs, sliding back into you. You let out a little cry, and he smacks your ass sharply. “This is what you asked for, right? Said I was being too nice to you.”

“I didn’t– oh my god…” your eyes roll back into your head, a well-placed thrust cutting your words off. “It’s so…it’s so much, Jean.”

Jean lands three more sharp slaps to your ass, already thrusting into you at a brutal pace. “What was that?”

“T-too much, Daddy,” you collapse, face shoved into the bed to mask the pitiful cries leaving your mouth. It is too much; if you tuck your chin to your chest, you can see a little bulge in your tummy where he’s fucking into you, another orgasm already building in the pit of your stomach. You feel like you might pass out if he makes you cum again, but he’s ruthless.

“Too much?” Jean coos, fisting your hair to turn your face. He’s glaring down at you. “You were practically begging me for it, and my pretty girl gets what she wants, right? Said you wanted it rough, so you’re going to fucking take it.”

You nod miserably, fat tears rolling down your cheeks. Jean hisses when you clamp down around him. “Squeezing me so goddamn tight, this pussy.”

You feel a hand start thrumming insistently against your clit and nearly shriek; your pussy’s so swollen, so sensitive already. You claw at the bedsheets, feeling something warm and wet swelling inside of you.

“Daddy, I– fuck, it’s, it’s–”

“Gonna make you squirt again,” it’s a promise from behind your ear, “you’re gonna squirt on my cock and Daddy’ll cum for you, okay?”

“I can’t, I–” you’re wailing, words cut off by your own moans. Jean loves it, you can feel his thrusts growing more urgent against your hips, so deep in you you could choke.

“You can,” he corrects you, hand moving faster, “want Daddy to cum in you?”

“Yes, please, p-please,” You cry, letting him use you as he wishes. 

“I’ll give it to you, gotta cum first, you can do that, can’t you? Taking me so well, pretty girl, just need you to cum one more time for me.”

“Uh-huh,” the edges of your vision are starting to close in. He’s ruthless, hips slamming into yours hard enough to bruise, cock stretching you out so nicely, you can’t hold it, but you know, somewhere deep in this primal part of your brain, you need to be good, need to ask him. “Need to cum, Daddy, please– please let me, I–”

“Go ahead,” Jean shushes you, hips moving impossibly faster, “be a good girl, let me feel it.”

That tips you over the edge and Jean makes good on his promise; your cum is dripping out of you, spraying onto his thighs and ruining your sheets. You’re thrashing your head back and forth and sobbing through your orgasm, pinned and powerless under him. Jean swears at the vice-like grip you have on him; it doesn’t take him long to follow suit, pressing himself as deep as he can go, cumming in you. He bends over you as he does, grabbing your jaw and forcing you to him, kissing you hard in a mess of tongue and teeth. You feel it warming your stomach, moaning appreciatively until you both collapse in a sweaty mess of limbs, gasping for breath and clutching onto one another.

Jean allows himself a few moments to catch his breath, and then he’s pulling out of you, leaving you empty and whimpering. He shushes you, holding you close to his chest and letting you work through the intense session in his arms. You’ve never been so fucked out, nuzzling into his chest and simply letting him hold you, letting the aftershocks wrack through your sore body. After a few minutes you’re coming to; the haze begins to lift, and you peek up at him, unsure of where to start after…that.

“You okay?”

You turn the words over in your mouth before you can get them out, still feeling a bit like you’re floating. “Yeah, yeah, I’m okay. That was…wow.”

Jean, the man that just held you down and forced what were probably life-threatening orgasms out of you, blushes. “Yeah, it was really something.”

“Yeah, it was,” you agree, giggling despite yourself. Your mind is still a little cloudy, a little soft after everything. “But it was good. So good.”

“Yeah?” Jean grins, hoisting you up into his lap so you can both sit up, still cradling you to his chest. “Not too gentle, was I?”

Your face grows hot, you want to hide it behind your hands. “No, not too gentle.”

“You were right earlier,” he admits, “I was definitely holding out on you just because the way I like to…I mean, I don’t think I need to get too into it, you were there. It can be a lot. Didn’t want to push you too far.”

You hum contentedly, playing with the little gold chain he always wears. “I understand that now, but I’m a big girl. I can handle whatever you want to give me, promise.”

“Don’t say that,” Jean groans, “too tired for round two.”

Your hand falls into the mess between your thighs, and you wince. “Maybe after a shower?”

“Greedy,” Jean tuts, scooping you up with him to make the journey over to your bathroom, “my greedy, pretty girl.”

#jean kirschstein #jean smut #jean x reader #jean kirschstein x reader #jean kirstein x reader #jean kirschtein x reader #jean kirschstein smut #jean kirstein smut #jean kirschtein smut #attack on titan #snk #snk x reader #aot x reader #aot smut #snk smut #snk headcanons #aot headcanons #jean one-shot

[4mnji]

FORGIVE ME, BABY ᡣ𐭩 eren yeager x reader

synopsis: u find out ur fwb has been fucking other girls on the low and u hate being one of his options, so he comes over to “apologize” to you

warnings: kissessss, pussy eating, fingering, orgasm denial, choking, pet names (baby, my love, princess), eren is just a lil mean n nonchalant 😠, reader is kinda possessive hehe 🎀, reader and eren r both in their 3rd year of college, once again written with a black women in mind but anyone can read

wc: 1.4k

a/n: here’s another fic that has been collecting dust in my notes for a hot minute. i hope yall enjoy 💋

you’re chilling on your bed, scrolling through instagram bored outta your mind when you get a call from your fuck buddy, eren. you shot up from ur position on the bed making sure u looked good enough to answer the facetime call. when you were just about to pick up, you stopped in your tracks and let it ring until the call eventually went away.

you wanted to pick up, you really did but you had remembered that just a few days ago mikasa, your best friend, had sent you a screenshot of one of her instagram mutuals close friends post with a message undernesth it saying “isn’t that ur man??”. you clicked on the screenshot and it was a picture of eren and some random girl laying in bed, eren with his face buried deep into her neck displaying all the hickeys he must’ve gotten from her with her hand touching his back. you instantly knew it was eren because of the tattoo behind his ear. obviously you knew you and eren weren’t together and probably would never be, but you just couldn’t stand the sight of seeing him give the d to anyone else who wasn’t u when he could simply just hit you up if he wanted a good fuck. your phone dinged 2 times, making you snap out of your trance.

rennie 💋💋

why u ain’t pick up?

i have ur location, ik ur ass is home.

you rolled your eyes at his messages, deciding not to text him back and just call him instead. he picks up on the first ring, instantly questioning you, not even giving u a proper greeting. “why didn’t you pick up?” he says with a blank stare. “well hello to you too” you scoff which doesn’t go unnoticed by him but he chooses to ignore it. “i was in the bathroom.” you lied. eren nods his head, looking away from the camera not saying anything. there’s a moment of silence before he breaks it and shifts his focus back onto you. “i wanna come over, i miss you.” you shake ur head laughing a bit at his statement. “you don’t miss me, you was just with some other girl like 2 days ago. if you really missed me you would’ve came to me instead of her” eren opens his mouth to speak, but you countinue talking. “eren, you know how i feel about being one of your lil hoes. if you wanna have multiple girls on your roster and pick and choose who u want to fuck on what days, you can get the fuck off my line because i’m not gonna be apart of that bullshit.”

eren sighs and doesn’t say anything for a couple of seconds. he thinks about his next actions and choice of words carefully. on one hand, he can argue with you, which would then lead to you not talking to him for a week, ignoring all his messages and calls and then eventually you’ll get tired of doing that and tell him to come over so y’all can “talk”. or he can just agree with whatever you were saying—and he chose the latter. his patience was wearing thin, he actually did miss you and he didn’t want to jeopardize his chances of seeing you with some stupid argument.

after thinking out his words he finally speaks “you’re right princess, i’m sorry” he says trying to sound as sympathetic as possible. honestly, eren didn’t give a fuck if u did or didn’t like his lifestyle, he does whatever the hell he wants to do. however, he didn’t want u to get any more upset with him than u already were, so he decided to make u feel like u had the upper hand so u would let him come over.

you were about to open your mouth to say some slick shit to him because you knew that these type of conversations between the two of you always ended up in some type of back and forth argument, so you were taken aback when he not only agreed with what you were saying, but even apologized. and eren never apologizes. “im right?” u question, confusion laced in your tone. “yea baby, you are and i’m sorry for making you feel that way. i’ll stop fucking around with all these girls i promise, just let me come over so i can make it up to you properly” after hearing all of eren’s empty promises and him actually “agreeing” with what u had to say for once, you folded immediately and told him to come over. you probably would’ve been standing on buisness a little bit more if u didn’t crave his touch so much but you did, you needed wanted him badly.

once you gave eren the green light that he can come over he was there in less than fifteen minutes and had you butt naked on your bed in less than five.

“keep your legs up, baby” eren instructs and u do as he says. you lift your legs up, locking your arms around them to keep them in place. eren begins to kiss all over the lower half of your tummy and slowly trails down to your pretty pussy. his kisses are so sweet, slow, and sensual that is has your toes curling in the air.

“mmm ren..f-feels good” you mutter out while letting out soft moans. eren hums, which sends a little vibration into you. eren knew u were close, even if u didn’t tell him u were. he was always so good at reading u like a book, but for now he decided to play dumb by pulling away and pretending like he didn’t know why u let out that little grunt when he did. before you can question why he stopped he starts rubbing on your puffy clit while looking into your eyes.

“y/n, i really am sorry that i didn’t come to you the other day. i don’t know what i was thinking princess, you think you can forgive me?” eren coos at you, with a little smirk on his face that goes unnoticed by you since your head is in the clouds with the way he’s rubbing on you. when he doesn’t get a response he slaps your pussy, earning a loud whine from you. “you didn’t answer me my love. you forgive me?” he asks again. “y-yes eren…i-i forgive you!” u hardly manage to let out.

eren smiles at you before he gives the lower half of your stomach another wet kiss. he moves his head back down so he can start making out with your pussy again. he’s being so sloppy with it but lord it feels so good. you try to push eren’s head away but he doesn’t let up and instead starts adding two of his long digits into your wet pussy while eating it.

you had no more strength left in your body to push his head away with the way he was eating and fingering your pussy. “erennnn im so closeee!!” you whine. and just when you were about to have your release, eren stops. he lifts his body up so he can sit down straight on the bed and he looks down at ur trembling body and just laughs.

“rennn what are u doing…?” u question quietly. eren rests his large palm on the right side of your cheek “i’m glad you forgive me, but you know…” he pretends to think for a moment, “i never got an apology from you for telling me what to do and you know i hate that bossy shit” his hands slides up to your neck and he gives it a little squeeze just enough to make you cough a bit. you rest ur smaller hands on top of eren’s, mentally hoping that you can make him forgive you and he’ll forget about all this and just make you cum.

“r-ren i swear i wont do it again im really sorry i-“ eren cuts you off and leans down to press a quick kiss onto your lips that were now swollen from you biting on them previously. he lets go of your neck and gives you his signature annoying (but sexy) smirk and god you wished you could slap that stupid look off his face, but you’re in such a weak state right now from how he was eating you out </3.

“show me how sorry you are and maybe i’ll think about forgiving you, sound good princess?”

#forgive my shitty smut writing </3 #anyways i’m working on an ony fic yayyy #eren yeager #eren x black fem!reader #eren x black y/n #eren x black reader #eren yeager smut #eren x reader #eren x black!reader #x reader #eren aot #eren smut #aot fic #4mnji ᯓ★

[juniperskye]

Begin Again.

Sneak peek: Reader got out of a relationship about eight months ago and was sure love was meant to burn and break and end…but this particular Wednesday made her believe that maybe, just maybe, she could begin again with someone new.

Aaron Hotchner x (Fem) Reader

Angst/Fluff

Word count: 1236

***Flashbacks are indented and in italics – this story flashes from present to past a few times. ***

REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited - please be kind. Requests are open and feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, implied age gap (kinda?), anxiety, self-consciousness, Past abusive relationship, explicit LANGUAGE,  no use of y/n, mention of Jack, mention of Hotch’s previous relationship, story is guided by begin again by Taylor Swift (lyrics aren’t all directly used), mention of a love of the Beatles. I think that’s all, let me know if I missed any!

I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

You glanced at yourself in the mirror, second guessing your outfit choice.  Were the heels too much? Would he comment on them, would he be okay with them? Maybe you should switch to flats, they would be a safer choice.

“Babe seriously. Do you have to wear heels?” He berated you. “These are the shoes she told us to wear. I can’t switch shoes I’m a bridesmaid and were all supposed to look uniform.” You explained. “Really? You’re going to make me look so fucking stupid. Who cares if she chose those, just tell her the didn’t fit or the clasp broke or something.” “I’m not doing that.” You said. “You’re so difficult. Just change your shoes, it’s not a big deal. I just don’t want to look like a fucking idiot because my girlfriend is towering over me.” He continued.

You could remember multiple arguments that went that way. Him yelling at you for dressing how you wanted, so you didn’t. He started picking out your clothes and you complied, because that was easier than having him tear you down.

You smoothed your hands over your clothes and made your way out the door. The drive to the Café was a short one. You parked and made your way across the street, ready to go in and get a table for the two of you, fully expecting to have beaten him there.

To your surprise, when you opened the door, there he was. Aaron stood from his seat and walked toward you. You met him halfway and he pulled you into a gentle embrace. You didn’t fail to notice how he still towered over you despite your heels,

“Hi! It’s so good to see you.” He said pulling out your chair.

“Oh, thank you! It’s good to see you too, I was really glad you called.” You smiled as Aaron returned to his seat across from you.

“Yeah, sorry that it’s a random Wednesday, but with my job it makes it so hard and with us being free today I wanted to take the chance and spend it with you.” Aaron explained.

“I am happy to be here! The day doesn’t matter.” You shot Aaron a shy smile.

“You look beautiful by the way.”

You couldn’t help but blush at Aaron’s words. He had been so kind and gentle with you since you had started seeing one another. You had only gone on a few dates, but things were really good. The two of you had agreed to take things slow, having both gotten out of relationships not too long ago and Aaron also had Jack to think about. You guys had texted and talked on the phone quite a bit. He had gone as far as to call you late one night after a particularly rough case.

The two of you were currently talking about how your respective weeks have gone. Aaron had just gotten back from a case (hence why you were on your date now) and you had just completed a pretty big project at work. In the midst of your conversation, the song playing in the café changed to I Will by the Beatles, one of your favorite songs.

“Oh my god I love this song!” You gushed, quietly humming along.

“You like the Beatles?” Aaron asked.

“I love them! I have every one of their albums on vinyl.” You blushed.

“I don’t think I have ever met a woman with the same level of Beatles obsession as my own.” Aaron smiled at you in admiration.

The two of you ate while quietly enjoying the music and one another’s company.

“For if I ever saw you, I didn’t catch your name. But it never really mattered, I will always feel the same. Love you forever and forever, love you with all my hear- “ “Jesus, can you stop fucking singing that song?” He huffed. “Babe, it’s a really good song, I wish you would just listen to the words.” “I don’t give a shit about your stupid song. I don’t get it anyway.” He shut you down.

Aaron and you continued your conversation upon finishing your meal. You were in pure bliss with how amazing things were going. Aaron was attentive and gave you his full attention. He nodded and responded when it was needed. He also held conversation so well, he gave just enough information about himself in combination with asking you about yourself.

Another thing that had you swooning over Aaron was the fact that he had thrown his head back in laughter a few times throughout your conversation. You truly couldn’t wrap your head around how lucky you had been to have met Aaron. Your ex had never found your sense of humor funny, and it was nice to be in the presence of someone who appreciated it.

“Can you not make jokes like that when we’re in front of my friends? Like seriously what the fuck was that?” He demanded. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean anything by it. It was just a joke. Your friends laughed.” You shrugged. “It wasn’t even funny. They just laughed out of pity to save you from the embarrassment of nobody understanding your stupid ass jokes.” He rolled his eyes at you as he stormed off.

Aaron checked his watch and noticed how late it was getting. He looked into your eyes and smiled, neither one of you wanting this day to end. But he needed to go pick up Jack from soccer practice.

“Can I walk you to your car?” Aaron asked.

“That would be great.” You smiled, wrapping your scarf around your neck.

As you made your way over to your car, you thought about talking to Aaron about how your ex had truly broken you, and that part of the reason you’d requested to take things so slowly is because you had to relearn how to accept love from someone. The last eight months had allowed you time to fall in love with yourself again, but loving someone else was a whole new obstacle you were working through.

Aaron’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts, he had been talking about how he wanted to introduce you to Jack, not now, but in the near future. He had come up with a nice way to do so.

“So, Jack and I always watch Elf and the Grinch around Christmas, I think it could be nice if one night you came over and watched one of them with us, you know. It gives us a few more weeks to really solidify things between us and by then we will have been seeing each other for four months. What do you say?” Aaron looked hopefully at you.

“Only if it’s the Jim Carrey Grinch movie. That new animated one is cute and all, but it doesn’t hold a candle to the live action.” You smiled back at him.

“Of course, it’s the Jim Carrey one. We take things very seriously at our house.” Aaron smirked at you.

Aaron and you shared a laugh, and then he brushed his hand over your cheek, leaned in, and kissed you gently. December couldn’t come fast enough. Things with your ex had really messed you up, and he’d left you believing that love wasn’t meant to flourish, just burn, and break and end.

But on a Wednesday, in a Café you watched it begin again.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotch hotchner #hotch #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner x reader #ssa aaron hotchner #criminal minds #aaron x reader #hotch x reader #hotch x you #hotch x y/n #emily prentiss #penelope garcia #spencer reid #david rossi #derek morgan #jennifer jareau #criminal minds fandom #thomas gibson #jack hotchner #jessica brooks #haley brooks #haley hotchner #aaron hotch x you #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotch fluff #aaron hotch fic #aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotchner x you

[hijinxinprogress]

YJ playing never have I ever 

Cissie goes never have I ever been experimented on by the government so Greta, Kon, and Bart put a finger down “Bart?? Hello??” “The futures fucked” “Called it” “Are you good?” “I mean I like pizza and not being stuck in a simulation sooo” “the future doesn’t have pizza??” “I know! Not having pizza is the absolute worst” 

Kon goes never have I ever had a mentor disregard my safety and everyone except Anita, Cassie, and Greta put a finger down “The joys of not having a mentor” “Hal lost it when he found out about last christmas” “Every time Diana realizes we’ve gone off planet she goes nuclear” “middle child, no one’s looking for me in the first place”

Cassie says never have I ever been betrayed by family members (biological or otherwise) so there’s a small argument over whether or not you should have to put a finger down for each betrayal “I’m just saying there’s a lot of speedsters” “I have like nine siblings on a technicality” “Do alternate versions of alleged biological relations count??” “🤓👆🏾AlLeGEd BiOlOgicAl ReLaTIoNs ” “stfu” “Can I add someone else’s alt to my list if they killed me?? Wait, Thad tried to kill me again last week” “Are we counting each person or each betrayal??” “I don’t have enough fingers for that” “fuck, me either” “I don’t have enough fingers for each person much less each time I was betrayed” 

Anita goes never have I ever had a family member attempt or succeed in killing me and everyone puts a finger down “so fuck me ig” “does prime count for us??” “yeah?? we’re family, stupid” “I feel targeted” “me too” “what if it was an accident??” “It still counts”

Tim goes never have I ever had to screw with time to meet family member(s) so Anita and Bart put down a finger “technically I didn’t-“ “you’re a speedster put your mf finger down” “fair” “they were babies, I didn’t meet shit” “they were your parents put your fucking-”

Greta goes never have I ever befriended people that tried to kill me multiple times and Tim and Bart put down a finger “it’s how we bond! This is slander” “Bart we’ve been to like six other timelines and dimensions where Thad kills you” “wait you said friend do I-“ “Pru” “listen that’s different” “Anarky??” “Klarion” “Azrael” “Lynx” “I also tried to kill you” “My fucking finger is down are you happy?” 

Bart goes never have I ever had a family that doesn’t want me around and everyone puts a finger down “look at us! Bonding” “I don’t think I was invited to thanksgiving last year” “ngl they have no idea how old I am” “I was accidentally added to the family group chat” “dude they added you??” 

Tim goes never have I ever had mommy issues resulting in everyone putting a finger down “??” “You do know you’re targeting yourself right??” “Bart put your finger down” “wtf why my mom loves me” “Emotional turmoil bc you can never see her again ergo mommy issues” “eRgO” “stfu” “Kon?? You don’t have a mom??” “My choices are Superman or Lex” “Yikes…” “Put another finger down”

[No one wins especially not the jl that walked in halfway through the game bc yj was having game night in a briefing room and gave absolutely zero notice]

#Bart 🤝🏾 Tim bonding over having murderous younger brothers that seem to barely tolerate them #young just us #young justice #anita fite #dc empress #cassie sandsmark #gnc!cassie sandsmark #wonder girl #bart allen #dc impulse #greta hayes #dc secret #cissie king jones #dc arrowette #kon el #kon el superboy #tim drake #dc red robin #yj98 #dc comics

[mikeysbabygirl]

Mikey's girl

Warning : minors DNI, 16+. Suggestive, heavy/strong language, blood, injury, Bonten being gossips but nothing more, kinda comical and funny !

Pairing : Bonten! Mikey x Female! Reader

Summary : what about meeting the Bonten ?

Since the day he met you, Mikey tried his best to keep you away from his gang life. Until that night...

Note : This is a short one shot, no one requested this, it's just a small thing I've been imagining before going to bed lol right after writing this I'll be back to your requests guys !

WORD COUNT : Around 6000

PART TWO : HERE

Running out of time.

Running out of thoughts.

Pedal to the floor, Sanzu pressed it until the dash indicated a number way out of speed limits.

A road, a race.

Not against a car, against time.

Against death.

And he didn't even knew where to go, which turn to take next, all he knew was that, damn, Ran is a motherfucker and Rindou an asshole, but Mikey would kill him if the elder died on his backseat.

-" Fuck, Mikey, we can't go to the hospital. "

That one, sitting right on the passenger seat had his fist against his mouth, biting hard on his fingers. Before he could even look at Sanzu or answer, Rindou's voice cut off from behind.

-" I don't fucking care about prison, you go to that shitty hospital. "

Dark irises peered through the car's central mirror, at Rindou's shape sitting on the backseat.His brother had his head his lap and his feet on Kakucho's.

The youngest Haitani sustained his boss' look, though trembling from inside, he kept a stoic face stained with his brother's blood, hands pressing Ran's thigh to slow down the bleeding.

If the road wasn't blurry from the speed Sanzu was hitting, if Ran Haitani was not bleeding to death on the backseat of his car, Mikey would have slashed Rindou's throat open for that order. Yet, Rindou was stained with his elder brother's blood, on the verge of losing him.

How couldn't he understand ? Especially him, who's brother have been stolen from him, who couldn't even get a look at his face one last time ? Through his hollow chest, there was still something beating, beating for him to do the right thing.

The right thing, the right one, the idea clicked in his head.

-" Take the right turn to Ebisu. Tsubaki's district. "

Bonten's second nodded, took the right turn just in time to head for Ebisu and was almost startled by Rindou's voice shouting from behind.

-" Mikey you fucking serious ? You... You know what ? Drop us. "

-" Rin' " Kakucho tried only to be cut off again by that one.

-" Just drop us at the hospital and you can go back to the headquarters. "

Pleading eye glance was dressed by an angry stare in Rindou's eyes, one that has been promptly ignored by Mikey who just started guiding Sanzu through the dimly lit streets.

Scoffing loudly, the Haitani brought his eyes to his brother's head on his lap, droopy eyes,shallow breathing, and a burning fever.

What the fuck is going on ? He wanted to scream.

-" I... I don't get it, you removed the bullet from his leg, why ain't he getting better ?"

Kakucho, receiving his question sighed loudly trying to calm his frantic heartbeats. Wiping the sweat off his forehead, along with the worry for his friend, he shrugged.

-" I don't know, maybe an artery has been touched ?"

-" And what the hell do we do-"

They were almost propelled forward by the power at which Sanzu had parked, immediately noticing that they were now in a residential area.

-" Wh-"

-" Stay here. I'll be back in a minute. "

Mikey left no room for argument, quickly getting out of the car and making his way to one of the houses, knocking at the door.

Be here, he prayed inside. Be here...

Multiple questions and death glares from Rindou toward the house after, the lights inside the house turned on.

2.am in the morning they knock at your door, every woman should have been afraid to even get up from bed.

But how to even be scared ?

There, all your dreams taking the shape of a man sharing your bed since weeks and weeks, standing in your front porch light.

The magnet to your smile, Sano Manjiro, he was a regular of your front door, the gift of the late night for you. So much, you hadn't even changed from your Pajama shorts and strapped top, nothing he hadn't seen anyway.

Only for a minute, the universe pretended it loved him. For a split second, there was just... Manjiro, and you. Because his heart had beaten like when he was a kid, a happy kid, seeing the smile you offered him with sleepy eyes.

What a shame if his old friends knew, after years of trying, the thing lifting him from the floor to be a weak small woman...

But your smile dropped as soon, remarking that he wasn't coming inside like he used to do, taking the hand you offered that it took him some time to get used to, but eventually started leaning in your touch.

-" A bitch, really ?" Rindou scoffed from the car, far from your eyes and ears. Indignation filled his blood but he was soon shushed by Sanzu and a frowning Kakucho.

-" She's not one of our girls" Sanzu explained, confused. " I don't know this place. "

They three watched their boss interacting with the young woman from afar, and stiffened when both of them started walking toward the car before Mikey opened the rear door from Rindou's side.

-" Here he is. " He showed you a rather tall man, head and feet resting on two frowning men legs. The street as well as the inside of the car were dimly lit, you could not see much more than blood flowing from the middle of his thigh, where his pants have been ripped. Mikey opened the door a little bit more when you crouched down next to the car, startled by the hand of the man gripping yours even before you could touch the injured man's face.

Guilt was a foreign principle for Rindou yet he could have sworn that was exactly what he had felt the minute the girl's doe eyes peered at him, maybe far, far from that sad reality where he was holding his brother's bleeding body, he would've took a minute to admire how beautiful she was...

Sensing his reluctance toward you, you pulled your hand away from him and peered at Mikey, standing next to you. You might have missed the dark glare he sent toward Rindou...

-" You told me he has fever, right ?"

He nodded, turning back to you. Frowning, you looked at the three men inside the car who already were eyeing you curiously.

-" Do you still have the bullet ?"

-" Are you fucking kidding me ?" The one with the purple mullet answered you, you pulled your head back surprised by the hostility in his tone. " Why in hell would we k-"

-" It's here " the one with the scarred face cut him off with a hurry, leaning toward the car's floor to reach for the bullet he threw there previously. He hadn't missed the step Mikey had took toward the car after hearing Rindou's answer, it was nor the time neither the place for fighting.

Taking the bullet from him, at first nothing seemed special about it. Yet you had your idea about the fever, and went to smell that one. Other than the smell of smoke and blood, and there was an after smell to it. One you used to smell at the hospital shifts...

The ball has been damaged, either from the impact or when removed from his body, but what had caught your attention was the dark, heavy paste adorning the crooked bullet, your head fell slightly backward in a curse.

-" Fuck... "

All of them frowned, but Mikey did because you rarely cursed, Rindou was faster to ask about what the fuck you mean. His words.

-" The bullets have been laced by curare. A deadly poison. "

His heart missed several beats, eyes going naturally back to his brother who already had passed out, his throat felt tight, and he couldn't even focus on your words when you stood up and mumbled to Mikey to get him inside your house.

Turning the living room lights on, Mikey moved your table out of the way while Rindou and Kakucho lifted Ran's body until your couch.

- " I'll be back in a minute" you whispered to Mikey before heading toward the bathroom, working at a hospital, your first aid kit was more like a whole surgery equipment.

All of their eyes watched you as you came back to the living room, hands full of medical equipment you put on the table before crouching down next to Ran who was lying on your couch, and there under the light they could finally take a better look at you.

And they were stunned...

Mainly because well, you looked like nothing of the usual girls they had at their clubs. Your face was empty of all make-up, your hair was loose falling around your face, but how attractive was that raw, natural sight...

Kakucho leaning with his elbows on the back of the couch, Rindou standing right next to him and Sanzu standing next to the armchair Mikey sat on, all of them eyes were on you.

And to say questions were eating their brain alive wouldn't be out of place. It was obvious with every rapid flutter of your lashes hitting those cheekbones, from your wide-eyed gaze, too pretty, too young, too pure for this, them, and him.

But you hands didn't shook, you didn't hesitated a second before wrapping the sterilized tourniquet around his leg, and to say the strength you put in that one woke Ran up screaming from pain... Well, you might be perfect for Mikey, they thought.

-" The hell-" Ran arched his back and breathed heavily, hand reaching his thigh to remove the pressure, as Rindou's hand pushed him flat on the couch, a soft one stopped him, he landed his eyes on you and-

It might have been the poison, the pain, but no one ever looked at him so... Truly.

-" I know it hurts, but you've been poisoned. I don't want the curare to reach your heart".

And just like that, a man surrendered. It all took a pretty shiny eye color, smooth hair surrounding feminine features, and a tiny voice coming from enticing lips to wreck his guards and make him drop his hand, make him take the pain.

Okay, you thought to yourself. This is do or die, the shallow breathing he had could be either because of the pain, or because the curare reached his lungs...

Was it too late or not, you were gonna give him the antidote.

-" Why'd you made this ?" The one with the mullet gestured toward the tourniquet, you went to answer but he cut you off again. " You better not make him lose a leg or whatever shit you've done it for, if he lost it-"

-" If he lost it what ?" Your voice rose up, dropping the syringe you previously had in hand to put both of your palms flat on the couch.

-" This, i'm only tryna repair your mistake. " You glared at him under everyone's surprised expressions. " Who do you think you are, removing the bullet as if you were doctor House ? That's the result of your recklessness, the poison spread faster and I'm trying here to limit it so you better shut up and not shout at me under my own roof".

Stunned, once again, no one found the words actually. It was obvious Rindou was upset, from how tight he was clenching his fists, however you managed to convince him to let you do your job.

As for Mikey, he simply could not take his eyes off of you.

You, his moonlight secret, the tide of his feelings, ones he thought he would never experience again. It all started with a smile, and before he could understand anything, a night a week, two nights a week, to an additional tooth brush in your bathroom, left t-shirts, and this house became a home.

Sure he knew you deserved way better, yet once you let the devil in your front porch come inside, again, and again, it felt right. He held you tight, and that was all that you seemed to need, his bruising hold, his cold hands and rough touches.

Took and kept him in your hands in order not to break him as if he was a promise, let the devil inside and kissed all of his demons.

You were all softness and delicacy, that was mainly why he has been surprised by the daggers your eyes threw at Rindou, and damn his heart missed some beats when you got all of his men tail between their legs with just a higher voice. That is when pride bloomed in his chest, seeing you head high in order not to drop the crown, his crown.

His queen.

It did not stopped him from glaring at Rindou however, while you were busy administering the treatment to his brother. Needless to say has it been another random girl of their clubs, he would not even care.

But you, the missing heart beat, the late night rendezvous, the tatoo-lingering kiss, he felt personally offended.

Thanks God, after minutes of giving him the treatment, the so-called Ran seemed more connected to reality. The tourniquet must have been done right before the poison could reach any higher parts and it was only his luck. And thank God, curare's antidote was a simple myasthenia's treatment, one you could easily have home, otherwise the ending would have been different.

They all watched you as you stitched him and him wincing from time to time, then the man with a scar along his face helped you throwing all the dirt.

Strange was it how you didn't even felt threatened. An angel standing in silk pajama lingerie, surrounded by demons who could not keep their eyes off of your bare legs under your camisole shorts, off of your breasts perking up under the silk strapped top.

Why would you be afraid ? Satan himself glared at his demons and soon their four pairs of eyes found the floor very much more interesting than his angel.

-" How ya feeling ?" Rindou asked his brother once you left to " make some coffee".

-" I'm good, thanks to her. You should... You kinda fucked up tho " he answered while eyeing his boss from the corner of his eye. Rindou who was leaning against the couch sighed, he knew he kind of loses it everytime Ran would be in the middle of it, and he regretted it now, really.

-" Yeah, your girl saved the day Mikey".

That was Sanzu trying to get crumbs of the truth and Kakucho elbowing him discreetly. Truth be said, he has been smelling the smoke and now he caught the fire. Usually he would be driving his boss home after missions, the late months were the exception since he preferred using his own bike, one that he didn't touched since years actually.

His usual spot at the VIP floor of the club where he would be silently mourning has been empty, and oh that was definitely not a white hair of his on his black turtleneck.

Mikey knew perfectly what Sanzu was doing and therefore just ignored his statement, would it confirm his thought ? That you were his girl? Let that sink in.

-" Here !" Your soft voice almost sang, bringing a busy tray with several coffee cups. You put that one on the table and quickly made your way back to the kitchen, fighting the smile on your face once Mikey's eyes got stuck on the plate of his favorite pastries you brought and put on the table. Needless to say he was the first one to reach them, your cooking never failed to impress him.

-" Thank you, for this and... " The man with a scar and heterochromatic eyes started, before Rindou grabbed a bowl of coffee and locked eyes with you.

-" And sorry for... You know. He's my brother and... "

-" I get it " you flashed a smile that had his heart sinking in his chest, impression or not the room warmed like water with it.

-" We own you one " That was Ran, lazily smiling with droopy eyes from the couch. He more than everyone in there was shamelessly eyeing you from head to toe, the fever he had experienced previously waking up his lower belly now that he could take a better look at you.

Their boss knew, and they all knew the unspoken forbidden words choking everyone of them at that moment ; what in the heaven, hell or earth had put such a blessing in Manjiro Sano's blood stained hands ?

-" And those ones are Mikey's favorites by the way " he precised toward the pastries.

You chuckled, and everyone, even the most heartless of them all felt it, the light seeping through all of their darkness.

-" I know, I always have some for him. "

Always, there was it, the fire Sanzu had spotted from miles. Rindou's weary expression turned into a whole surprised face, because damn, you were it. Perfect, either was it your face, your features, or just how every curve of you was a kiss for the eyes.

It was your beauty for Ran, the blooming young one, the forbidden thing for dirty men like them.

It was your devotion and honey-dripping self for Kakucho, how is it that their boss haven't drained you of all colors ?

It was your fierce for Sanzu, how you put Rindou back in his place just as if you were raised by Mikey himself.

And your wit for Rindou, useful hands, smartness, knew from A to Z how to deal with a poisoned bullet.

And they could go on for the night, why this house shouldn't be soiled by him, nor by them actually. The fact was, his hand reached for your waist and pulled you into his lap, and the smile you gave him could light up the whole town.

And there she was, his solace in the grip of his hands. He knew what they all thought and he thought it too.

Too good, too pretty, too much for him. One day, you would figure it out and leave him but, his heart beats were a countdown until you would realize it.

And you'd blew him away. He'd be blue.

Until then, he would take them soul crashing glances and enchanted kisses, see would the darkness swallow the light ? Or would the latter shine through?

-" Well... Think it's time for us to go " Kakucho cleared his throat and threw warning glances at his three co-workers. They were staring.

-" Oh, just leave him on the couch. It's better not to shake his leg for now " you warned Rindou who was about to help Ran to get up, the elder brother gulped down at the enticing thought of staying and they all looked at Mikey.

-" I'm gonna take a shower."

That was it, his answer. He would be staying, for sure he would never leave you alone with Ran. Well, he would have been staying anyway...

Sanzu's eyes widened slightly as he peered at his co-workers, Rindou had actually the same reaction, until Kakucho implicitly pushed all of them outside, waving good-bye at all of you and telling Ran to have some rest.

Back to the car, and Kakucho counted.

One, two, three...

-" The actual fuck ?"

The whole neighborhood must have been woken up by Sanzu's loudness at this rate, he turned to look at Rindou sitting on the passenger seat and Kakucho on the back.

-" The actual fuck is Mikey getting his kicks with the glamour-puss when we thought he was depressed as hell " Rindou replied, pulling his hair back still incredulous of what he just witnessed.

-" Could you drive us all home already ? " Kakucho rolled his eyes, earning curious glances from his friends.

-" Really? That's all you got to say ?"

-" Well..." He sighed and rubbed his eyelids. "She is obviously... something else, I'm happy for him though, man has been through hell. "

-" Something else ? " Rindou mimicked. " She's a damn dreamboat. "

-" And she's a nurse, maybe even a doctor. Like, she has degrees hanging on her wall-"

-" Fresh clean pussy " The youngest Haitani chuckled soon followed by Sanzu.

-" Think Mikey fucks her as hard as he kicks ?"

-" Let's watch how she walks tomorrow and we'll know ".

-" You two are the reason why we can't have a Bible " Kakucho winced in a disgusted face, soon enough they started the car and he knew he would not stop hearing about it...

•••

Washing the thoughts under the water, the devil would have traded his hell, to let the water purify his sins. Once in a lifetime, Satan had wished to repent, all to be worthy of that damn forbidden fruit. Once in a lifetime his chest wasn't empty, it was filled with concrete-like worries, not good enough, not good at all.

As always, too swallowed in his own darkness, Mikey didn't heard the bathroom's door opening nor the clothes hitting the floor, and almost got startled by the warm hands wrapping around him.

When you are young you know nothing, they say. But you knew. He was walking some of his darkest alleys again, so hard to follow him through.

But it was alright, you just held him and if you two stumbled in the dark, then you'd fall together.

No words were needed, you turned him around and all the unspoken were in your eyes. Fever dream kisses, light touches on his cheeks, whispered sweet nothings built a wall between him and his demons.

Your hands pushed harder on his shoulders, frowning he looked at you and you whispered a " Trust me". He trusted no one.

But...

He dropped on his knees for you.

You smiled at him and your fingertips started massaging his scalp, washing his hair for him. Mikey hummed in silence, and slowly, like a sleepy child his head fell between your breasts.

Even your heart beats hummed a sweet melody for him, steady and slow, like whispering no rush, I'm not going anywhere.

-" You're so pretty... " You whispered, and smiled when he just growled.

As if you don't like it, you thought and rolled your eyes. And he did like it indeed, but he would never admit, burying his head deeper against you.

How could, whatever God after years of cursed fate, gift him such a blessing ? His arms tightened around you in another bruising hold, but you didn't said anything. You just took all of him, and he wondered was there a part of him you didn't took ? Did you even left anything for him, once you'd be gone ?

-" You gotta close your eyes " you whispered grabbing the shampoo bottle, Mikey looked up toward you.

No, they would come back.

And you were there, raw for him, nothing in between your two naked bodies except the water washing the sins away. The only sight that would ever give him goosebumps, you just had to be there, and he was not empty anymore.

-" I... don't like darkness."

And you were the light. Why would he close his eyes ?

On his knees in front of you the king admitted defeat, undressing his fears, and you swore to be there whenever his crown would be too heavy to carry.

The love caressed his cheek softly, no need to run, in your arms his darkness was tamed.

You drew stars around his scars, and like a blood stain marked him forever. Holy was the vision of the devil getting his wings washed, did it really matter if the angel would be stained ?

This was Manjiro Sano trying. He would change the ending, Peter would not lose Wendy, the bridges would not burn down, and the sun would rise on a whole new day after the dark night.

'cause after the poison, the blood, there were only two bodies loving each other in the middle of the night. One single heart beat, one skin, where you ended ? Where he began ? Holding yourselves so tightly it was just too hard to tell.

And in the end of the day, it was all that mattered.

•••

-" Dude, I'm telling ya. She's his girlfriend, not a bitch " Rindou explained to Kokonoi, Takeomi and Mochi. The first sitting behind his desk, he was working until late night when they all came in talking non sense about their boss having an affair, Takeomi was about to leave as well as Mochi.

-" we're talking about Mikey... Like, Mikey, like... White hair, dark impulse, Dorayaki ?" Kokonoi inquired with a confused face, only for both Rindou and Sanzu to nod their heads.

-" I don't believe you. "

-" No one fucking talked to you " Haruchiyo snapped toward his brother who just ignored him.

-" Either you do or not, he's home with her now, and Ran is there too. " Rindou pointed only to be stopped by Mochi.

-" What the fuck is Ran doing ther- you know what ? I don't want to know these kind of details."

-" He's been injured, and she is a nurse-"

-" A doctor, I'm telling you " Sanzu popped a pill from his bottle with a suggestive look.

-" And she's fucking hot, like... Lava hot. "

-" Like « I'm on the cover of playboy magazine » Hot " Haruchiyo added, Kokonoi rolled his eyes again.

-" I honestly don't trust your taste in women."

-" Kakucho ?" Rindou asked for the latter's say in the matter. That one who just sat on the couch sighed, crossing his legs and looked at Kokonoi dead in the eyes.

-" She's fucking gorgeous. "

-" Aha !" That was Sanzu, obviously, who was told he was too loud from his brother and who answered him with a middle finger.

It was usually this way,Bonten, all blood and guns from the outside, gossip girls behind closed doors.

Takeomi was about to add that he trusted Kakucho's taste more than the two others when the sound of Rindou's phone echoed through the room.

-" It's a Video call from Ran " he frowned, some of them gathered around him as soon as he answered it, seeing his brother's face on the screen.

-" Yo ! Aren't ya supposed to be sleeping?"

But no sign if tiredness was perceived in his face, he strangely was more... Interested.

-" What the actual glamour-puss fuck ?" He asked, getting his face even closer from the screen earning a chuckle from Mochi and Sanzu.

-" That's exactly what I said !" His brother pointed with wide eyes, but Ran was not done yet...

-" Wait bro, that's... "

He stood silent for a minute, dropping the phone on the couch which made his brother and co-workers frown.

-" Hey, you there ?" Silence... " Ran ?!"

Suddenly, the screen showed his wide eyes and a smug grin again.

-" Damn you'll never believe me, but I'm hearing moans, fucking moans !" He whispered-yelled the last part, the reactions were either a scoff or wide eyes.

-" quit shitting and go to sleep alr-"

-" I swear to fucking God, Rin' you know my face when I'm lying. They're in the bathroom, and there's fucking moans !"

They watched the younger brother's eyes widening, yes he knew his face when he was lying, and it was not that one.

-" Oh fuck-"

-" How's it ?" Kokonoi inquired curiously, like all of them trying to hear anything.

-" Quite sexy actually, softest moans I've ever heard I think... "

-" Can you record ?" Sanzu asked before getting an incredulous look from Kakucho.

-" Ran go to fucking sleep-" that one was cut off by Rindou.

-" No, can you get up ? "

-" Steal panties !"

" Mikey's gonna bury you alive " Mochi warned him, the confusion previously in the room replaced by an incredible unusual light atmosphere. They were simply acting as children and they knew it, but it was all so new coming from their boss, the usual iceberg that no one could even help it.

Even Kakucho, the one calling them out for their behaviours found the thought of your moans... Interesting.

-" I'm not stealing the panties. " Ran rolled his eyes, and in front of his friend's silence, he added. " but I'm recording. "

-" You all are so twist-"

It hit, it sounded, and weighted like a ton falling on their shoulders. Upstairs, where both of you were minding your own business, a particular thrust from Mikey sent you to overdrive, had your eyes rolling in the back of your head and legs trembling, crying his name so loud they heard you from the other side of the line.

All were kind of stunned, the voice moaning being cotton-candy soft, well now it had nothing holy...

-" Damn..." Ran's eyes drifted toward th ceiling, gulping down.

-" Keep.your.both.hands.on.the.phone. !"

PART TWO : AVAILABLE HERE

SANZU'S GIRL : SOON TO COME

Honestly, I don't know if I cringed so hard or if I laughed writing this, I'll just let you decide which one to pick but I couldn't just not write it, it has been haunting my brain for a whole night lol.

Network : @tokyo-ballroom @downtown-roponggi

#tokyo rev x you #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo revengers spoilers #tokyo revengers angst #tokyo rev fluff #haitani rindou #ran haitani #ran haitani x reader #rindou haitani x reader #bonten x reader #mikey smut #mikey fluff #bonten mikey #bonten trio #Mikey's girl #kakucho hitto #hajime kokonoi #bonten takeomi #akashi takeomi

[youremyheaven]

Vedic Astrology Observations

1. Punarvasus tend to be very spiritual if not religious. They find peace in prayer. Another thing I've noticed is that they are very sexually conservative (probably because of their cat yoni). Mariah Carey, Punarvasu Moon was a virgin when she married her first husband and waited until marriage to be intimate with her second husband as well. She was engaged to James Packer for 18 months and they reportedly never had a physical relationship.

Miranda Kerr, Punarvasu Moon was in a relationship with Evan Spiegel for 3 years and waited until marriage. Drew Barrymore, Punarvasu Moon has said that she's been celibate since her divorce in 2016.

2. Mariah Carey, Punarvasu Moon speaking of the nature of light & time , her memoir has multiple chapters titled with light-related names and even sooo many of her songs , including Butterfly (Punarvasus are connected to butterflies)

3. Moksha gana nakshatras embody the trickster archetype. They also often argue or provoke people simply for the heck of it. 2/3 Moon ruled naks (Rohini & Hasta) are Moksha gana and it makes sense as to why they fuck with people just because they can, they have nothing to gain from it and it serves no purpose, they're evil for the heck of it. They'll go to any length to ruin you even if they ruin themselves in the process.

Moksha means liberation in Sanskrit (Sanskrit is a classical language like Latin that is pretty much only used in a scholarly context) and is one of 4 purusharthas or motivations assigned to the 27 naks. The others are artha (wealth) kama (pleasure) and dharma (duty). Moksha would be located at the very top of Maslow's hierarchy of needs, which means an individual with Moksha gana naks has transcended all the other base level motivations of accumulating wealth, seeking pleasure and doing one's duty. What is left to do now? If an individual is evolved, they actually seek liberation through their spirituality but if they are not, not only are they unbothered by any ordinary human motives, they lack the ability to devote themselves to anything ordinary because they simply dont care about getting a job or building a house or whatever. this means they also kind of exist beyond normal social norms?? go up against a Moksha gana native/Moon dominant person and the kind of arguments they'll use against you will reveal this nature of theirs. like they will have zero issue using your every vulnerability and insecurity against you just to win an argument or put you down. they hate to look "weak" so they will tear you apart just because they can, with no regard for any history you share. there are people who defend this by saying "oh well i was mad" babygirl everybody gets mad, but if someone isnt raising their voice, being petty or singling you out and bringing up your past to make you crumble, its not because they're incapable of it, its because they have principles.

Moksha gana naks love to play devil's advocate.

4. Rahuvians have bad memory, they probably repeat the same stories in different ways every few weeks lol

5. Saturnian women often marry billionaires according to Claire Nakti and I recently found some more examples of that:

** Mariah Carey, UBP Sun was engaged to Australian billionaire, James Packer who used to date Miranda Kerr, Pushya Rising (both these women are also Punarvasu Moon), Miranda is now married to the CEO of Snapchat.

** Lisa Manobal, UBP Sun is dating Frederic Arnault, a French billionaire

** Elle Macpherson, UBP Sun was in a relationship with Arpad Busson with whom she had 2 kids (he's not a billionaire but he does have a net worth of $500 million)

6. Nominative determinism, literally "name-driven outcome", is the hypothesis that people tend to gravitate towards areas of work that reflect their names.

but i thought i'd use it in the context of astrology and how most people are subconsciously given names that reflect their nakshatras

ex: Angelina Jolie

the name Angelina is an expansion of Angela which is derived from the Greek word Angelos which means "Angel" or "messenger". Angelina has Revati Moon which is a deva ("godly" nakshatra) and Jolie is the French word for "pretty" and Angelina has Venus in 1h and is Pushya Rising (these were two of the biggest beauty indicators according to Claire's research)

(its so cute to me that her name is literally Angel Pretty bc damn right she is)

Yara Shahidi (Revati Moon)- Yara is the name of a water spirit and in Portuguese it means "Water lady" (Yara has stated that her name means one who is close to your heart, but names can have several different meanings) and Shahidi means "witness" in Persian. I feel like all of that really ties together with Revati being in pisces rashi and the last nakshatra that is "witness" to everything else etc

#astrology notes #sidereal astrology #astrology observations #vedic astro notes #nakshatras #astro notes #astrology #vedic astrology #astroblr #astro observations #astro community #12h #jyotish #pisces #punarvasu

[daizymax]

the ways we love | lfl (m)

summary: periods of work mean periods without play between you and your longtime boyfriend. after he offers to be the muse for your latest artistic piece, you realize just how much you appreciate his never-ending support.

pairing: felix x fem reader

genre: smut

word count: 7.9k

rating: mature (18+)

warnings & features: established relationship; profanity; mentions of alcohol consumption and (past) drunken sex; public marriage proposal; brief mention of having children; graphic sexual content; dom!felix; dirty talk; use of pet names; fingering; some spit play; oral sex (m receiving); some spanking; penetrative sex; multiple orgasms; creampie; aftercare

author’s note: rewritten for stray kids and reuploaded from my old blog. i think this will be the last of the fics from my old blog that i'll be reuploading here for the foreseeable future. also, i forgot how much fun i had writing the smut in this one. hope you enjoy!

( click here to read on AO3 instead )

---

He had started off so well. He was relaxed, comfortable, cheerful. Happy to help. This was his idea, after all.

But now… now he’s fidgety. Anxious and bored. You sympathize with that, but if he doesn’t — “Doll, can you please stop moving?” — then you’re ready to give up this entire project already.

“I’m sorry,” he sighs in that sweet, deep voice of his. “You’re just being so quiet. I thought you’d at least talk to me and let me know how it’s coming.”

You spare him a quick, direct glance before refocusing on the canvas. “I’m not going to give you a play-by-play of every mark I make, Lix. I need to concentrate. I want this to be as perfect as you are.”

Felix huffs and averts his eyes, but you know you have appeased him from the way he falls silent and relaxes his shoulders again. The new pink hue spreading across his freckled nose, ears and cheeks would be a nice touch if only you were ready to add color to the piece. For now, you store the inspirational image away for later.

You manage to finish your outline and flesh out some details around his nose before his real-live self ruins his posture — and subsequently, the lighting on his face — by shifting in his seat yet again. With a sigh, you set your utensils aside, wipe your palms on your pants and say, “How about a break? Let me get you a drink.”

Whatever his answer was going to be — agreement, argument, or otherwise — does not have time to be voiced before you are breezing by him and into the kitchen. When you return, he accepts the glass of water and obeys your command to drink up. You watch as he tips an ice cube into his mouth and licks his heart-shaped lips afterward.

He mistakes your admiration for scrutiny. “What’s wrong?”

You smooth some stray hairs near his ear and poke the bulge of ice in his cheek. “Nothing at all. I just like looking at you.”

He crunches the ice and blushes deeper. “Thanks. Don’t you need to do that from the other side of the room, though? Any idea when you might be finished?”

You shrug and fuss with the collar of his shirt until it un-creases. “You know I can’t answer that. A few hours? Days? Weeks? Whenever I’m satisfied with it. Or whenever you say, ‘Fuck you, I’m done with this.’ I told you I can always just use a photo to finish this so you don’t have to model for me.”

Felix smiles softly. “No, I don’t want you to do that. I volunteered, didn’t I? I like modeling for you. It feels fancy to do it this way, like it might turn out better if we do it like this.”

“Maybe, maybe not. Maybe it’ll be so awful you’ll leave me over how monstrous I make you look.”

“Well, at least that would make an interesting story to tell my next girlfriend.”

You giggle. “That’s true. Why don’t I just do a caricature? That way, if it looks bad, I can pretend it was on purpose.”

“No. God no,” he says firmly. “You’re too good an artist to be making pieces look silly on purpose.”

You peck his forehead. “Well, if you want this to be ‘professional,’ you have to sit still for me, doll.”

“I will. I’ll behave.” He tilts his chin to seek out your lips, and you willingly give them up. You smile into the kiss when you see him fumble to set his glass aside on the coffee table beside him without breaking contact with you. Before he can free up his hands to do goodness-knows-what with them, you slink away, back to your easel.

“You just told me you’d behave. If you’re not backing out, then I’m still working, and that means no playing,” you remind him.

He knows, but there is still a hint of disappointment in his dark brown gaze.

These abstinence periods are relatively new to your long-standing relationship. You suppose most people would think a couple purposefully denying themselves sex would tear a wedge of stress and resentment between them, but that has not been the case with you and Felix. It’s a stimulus. A game. A challenging one, to be sure, but always immensely rewarding.

So that is what you have both agreed: there is no sex while you are working on a piece. Not until the job is finished.

“How long do you think this one will take?” Felix asks again.

You plop down in your seat with a light groan and gather your utensils again. “The answer is the same, Lix. I can’t say for sure. A few hours, days, weeks?”

Your pretty muse nods and takes another sip of water as he mentally prepares himself for the oncoming drought. He does his best to relax in his seat again, and you flash him a smile before getting back to work.

---

It takes twelve days to complete the portrait, and Felix is not even sitting across from you when the last stroke falls upon the canvas. He might be offended by this once he finds out, but you couldn’t stop yourself from finishing without him. Besides, you know he will ultimately be as happy as you are that it is finally finished.

Truthfully, you might have been able to do most of the portrait simply from memory; you know his face as well as your own by now.

A sigh flutters past your lips. You take a step back to better admire (and scrutinize) your work. As you scan it over, you can’t help but smile. Not just out of pride for the job you did, but because of the striking resemblance you have been striving to achieve.

It is always difficult to instill life and warmth into mere lines and dots and smudges, but the two-dimensional rendition truly seems as though it could begin breathing at any moment, and a fresh wave of fondness for your best friend and lover as the real-life person he is comes over you. That is how you know you are satisfied, and not just in terms of your finished project.

This is something to celebrate, so after deciding how you want to do so, you pick up your phone to text Felix about an important dilemma.

[You: hey i forgot what you’re wearing today]

There is enough time to change out of your old, splattered overalls and heat up a late lunch before your phone buzzes back.

[Felix: i know it’s been a while since we’ve sexted but i think you meant to phrase that as “what are you wearing” with a smirk emoji]

You almost choke on a bite of your food as you laugh out loud.

You: dfjfdjso i’m not trying to sext you. i just need to know if you’re dressed nicely enough for a restaurant with a decent wine list tonight. we have some celebrating to do

[Felix: how come?]

[You: it’s finished]

This time your phone does not buzz. It rings.

“You finished the portrait?” Felix’s voice is hushed and a little rushed. You can tell he is on the move, probably heading somewhere away from his co-workers and customers for a more private conversation.

“It’s signed and everything,” you say cheerfully.

“That’s fantastic!” he says, not the least bit offended. “This is definitely worth celebrating. We should go to the nicest place in town and dress to the nines.”

More laughter bursts from deep in your chest. “Wha— I mean, it’s still just a portrait, Lix. I didn’t win an award or solve a murder case or anything.”

“So? I” — you hear the sound of a door closing in the background — “sat in that chair for a hundred years and went celibate waiting for that portrait to be done. No offense. This deserves a grand celebration.”

Your eyeroll can probably be heard through the receiver. “It didn’t take that long, did it? It was less than two weeks. Remember that waterfall landscape I did?”

Felix grunts at the memory. “Yeah, how can I forget? Longest month-and-a-half of my entire life.”

“It was worth it in the end, though, wasn’t it?” you say, remembering how neither of you could walk properly for at least a couple days after you finished that particular piece, which is now proudly mounted on a wall in the master bedroom. “Come on, doll. When I pick you up, we’ll go out and have that decent wine with a decent meal so the public knows we’re celebrating something, and then we’ll come home and fuck each other blind, okay?”

There was a time years ago when he might have choked and sputtered over your words, but this lewd proposal is mild, and today he doesn’t flinch.

“If that’s what Madame Artiste wants, then that’s what she’ll get,” Felix says.

He offers you a choice between two restaurants he deems himself dressed appropriately for without having to come home and change, and once you choose, he asks, “Can you just bring my navy suit jacket with you so I can make this outfit work, please? I’ll see you later. I can’t wait.”

He ends the call with the sound of a kiss.

---

The chimes on the door draw the attention of three pairs of eyes, and the sight of you stepping into the salon brings a smile to Felix’s face. Well, the mask on the lower half of his face prevents you from actually seeing his smile, but the happiness is there in his deep brown eyes.

“Hi,” he says, scanning your date-night outfit with obvious appreciation. “Be right with you.”

“Take your time,” you say, smiling at the customer sitting across from him. She smiles back politely and returns her attention to Felix, who goes back to focusing on her fingernails. He meticulously sweeps an emery board across the rounded ruby shapes to finish smoothing them out.

The third person in the salon gets up from his cozy perch in one of the pedicure chairs at the end of the row and crosses the floor.

“You look so nice, Y/N. Is it date night?”

“Yep, we’re off to dinner,” you say, accepting the man’s hug. “What’s new, Ji?”

“Oh, not much.” Jisung shrugs and takes one of your hands. He inspects your fingernails, which have unsightly matte polka dots chipped in the gloss. “Want me to redo these before you go? It won’t take that long.”

You let out a fleeting giggle. “Honestly, I don’t know why I bother getting them done in the first place when I put so much wear and tear on them. This damage only took me a week.”

“Well that’s because—” Jisung shoots your boyfriend a quick look and clearly alters the second part of his statement, “—you did them at home. You need to have them professionally done.”

His way of criticizing Felix’s work while leaving the customer in the room none the wiser is clever, and you have half a mind to applaud him for poking fun at his friend without hurting their business.

The comment is not lost on Felix. He glares over at you and Jisung, but he cannot seem to think of a subtle rebuttal, so he stews in silence.

“Ah, maybe that’s my problem,” you say, grinning.

“Give me, like, fifteen minutes and you’ll be all set,” Jisung promises.

As he’s making his offer, Felix finishes with the woman. From the edge of your vision, you see him remove his mask and lead her to the register to finish the transaction.

“Are you working Saturday morning?” you ask Jisung. “I’ll stop in then and you can do my toes, too.”

Before he can either confirm or deny the appointment, Felix interrupts by coming up behind you and waving his tip in front of your face. “Here, look what my ‘unprofessional’ work got us,” he says. “Buy yourself something nice, baby.”

You chuckle at his little joke until you flick through the bills and realize just how much worth is in them. “Wow, Lix, she was so generous!”

“She was appreciative of the amazing job I did,” he corrects with a peck to your cheek, then he takes his suit jacket from your arms to slip it on. “Sorry, Ji, we have to go. Ready, Y/N?”

“Ready,” you say.

“Sounds good,” Jisung replies at the same time. “I’ll lock up here. Enjoy your date, guys. See you Saturday, Y/N.”

---

The wine is more than decent, the food hits all the right spots, and the company is absolutely perfect.

Felix laughs happily from across the table. Strands of pale blonde hair trickle past his ears the further he tips his head back, and the apples of his cheeks are hued pink from where the rosé has gone. His smile loses none of its dazzle when the waiter interrupts to check on the two of you. The sheer warmth he radiates is boundless in the most endearing way.

When the waiter leaves, you watch Felix lean back in his chair. His eyes land on yours, and while some of the amusement fades from his face, the fondness remains. You see it there, twinkling in the inky pools of his irises; you feel it in the comfort he exudes while he is with you.

For some reason, the contentment of the moment draws something to mind. “Do you remember when we first met?” you ask out of the blue.

The corners of his eyes crinkle. “Of course I do. Remember how you tried to kiss me?”

“Oh my god, yes,” you groan. “Honestly, I still don’t remember a whole lot about that night, but I definitely remember you saying, ‘Oh, no thank you,’ right in my face.”

“Listen,” he laughs in defense, holding up a finger. “I was trying to be polite. I was trying to be a gentleman. You were a hot mess. That party had you twenty so’s-worth of shit-faced.”

“Twenty what?”

“You were so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, soooo…” he starts chanting his stupid joke.

You giggle and hang your head. “Okay, okay, I get it.”

“Hang on.” He holds that finger up higher. “So, so, SOOOO—”

“I said I get it already!”

“—so shit-faced. I didn’t want to embarrass you.”

“You did embarrass me, though! By rejecting me.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry,” he says, dipping his head in apology, “but we both would’ve been way more embarrassed if we’d slept together that night. It would’ve been a disaster.”

You quirk an eyebrow. “What makes you think I would’ve slept with you so soon?”

“Uh. Did you or did you not sleep with my roommate that night instead?”

“Fair enough," you say, toasting your wine glass in his direction. “It’s only funny now because we’re the ones who ended up together.”

Felix smiles. “Thank goodness for that. Life is pretty incredible with you in it, sweetheart.”

His words sober you a bit, and you smile back almost shyly. “I could say the same about you, doll.”

He probably does not always love you as much and as effortlessly as he does right now. He certainly is not always his best, most charming self the way he is right now. Neither are you. But he is still worth loving when he is at his worst, and if you could have moments like these scattered all throughout the rest of your life, you feel it would be enough. His love and support and respect and admiration are more than enough.

So it comes as a soft entreaty rather than a question; out of the blue again, but also a long time coming: “Please marry me.”

This time Felix raises an eyebrow. He seems more intrigued than surprised by your impromptu proposal. Then he half-purses, half-pouts his lips in a cheeky sort of expression, like he thinks you’re bluffing but is willing to play along anyway.

That feeling of overconfidence you had that first drunken night when you leaned in to kiss him in a stranger’s kitchen comes back, as does the fear of the rejection you suffered immediately afterward. If he says ‘Oh, no thank you,’ again, you wonder if you’ll die of embarrassment right here in this restaurant, surrounded by different strangers with different alcohol on your breath.

But you know he won’t, not even as a joke, because he knows you now. He knows you well, and he sees the sincerity in your face.

“I don’t have a ring,” you go on, “but I’ll get down on one knee right here, right now. This dress won’t stop me.”

Wordlessly, Felix lifts his napkin from his lap to lay it across his plate, then leans sideways to pull something from his pocket. He casually holds it up for your inspection, and once you realize what it is, you move to kneel in front of him as promised without even questioning the coincidence. Now is not the time for questions. Now is the time to show how serious you are about this.

Felix stares down at you and pries open the tiny case to reveal the brilliance of the diamond’s sparkle. Your fingers are sure and steady when he slips the top-heavy band onto the appropriate one.

“I would be honored to marry you,” he says softly, poking back and forth at the engagement ring with the edge of his thumbnail.

By now there are dozens of eyes on the quiet scene the two of you are making, but his are the only pair you see. His smile is still there, softer and smaller now, but still brimming with the adoration he has gained over the years. It widens when you rise up just enough to press your lips to it. His hand finds the back of your head the same second yours cups his.

A round of coos and charmed applause from the crowd goes up around you, but it is all background noise to the sound of Felix’s precious, giddy laughter.

---

He is no longer laughing by the time you throw the front door shut and press him up against it. The needy kisses between here and the car have taken most of his oxygen.

“Shit,” he hisses, watching you work his belt buckle. “You get a ring on your finger and you turn feral, is that how it works?”

You growl playfully but say nothing.

“You better slow down, tiger, or we won’t last five minutes.”

“Don’t care.”

“Aren’t you gonna show me what we waited so long for this for first?”

“Later. I thought you were dying of celibacy?” you sass.

Felix clicks his tongue. The simple sound is quiet, but it shifts the air. You stop trying to get into his pants to give his dark eyes your undivided attention.

“We have all the time in the world now, don’t we?” he murmurs, as though the hard-on in his jeans is not growing as impatient as you.

You swallow. “I just want you so badly. It hurts.”

His gaze sharpens at your tone. “Does it?” He reaches up to graze a thumb along your bottom lip. “Where does it hurt, sweetheart? Here?”

The sound you let out is something between a hum and a whine. You feel so sex-starved, so desperate for any morsel of pleasure he can feed you. You try to take his thumb into your mouth, but he slips it away too fast, plucking your lip as he goes. He brushes across your breast next. The sensation is dulled by your clothing, but your nipple stands to attention nonetheless.

“What about here?” he whispers.

“Yes…” The fingers that had been so keen on removing his belt cling idly to the leather.

“Aw.” Felix pouts and bats his eyelashes at you, but his sympathy feels insincere. He’s amused by the state of you. He adores seeing you so riled up and pliant for him.

His thumb trails further, straight down your stomach, while the rest of his fingers are kept stiff and carefully away from your buzzing body.

Eventually, he reaches the crease between your thighs and presses through the layers of your dress and your panties where he estimates your clit to be. He is a little north at first but quickly readjusts his position. The soft moan you let out is a dead giveaway for when he has found it.

“And here?” He takes a step closer while he begins drawing tiny circles. “Tell me, angel, does it hurt here?”

“Yes. Yes...”

He kisses your cheek tenderly. Mercifully. His deep voice is pitched even deeper when he murmurs, “Shh. I know it does. It’s finally time for me to make it better, isn’t it.”

You cant your hips against his hand. “Felix, please...”

“Come here.”

He trades places to cage you up against the front door. You reach for him, but he draws back out of reach to shrug out of his jacket first. After he carefully pushes the sleeves of his sweater up, he uses both hands to hike your dress up along your waist. There is no rush to his movements. In fact, it’s almost graceful the way he does it, as though the actions he is about to perform could be considered decent.

When you try to remove your underwear from his way, he nudges your hands aside. “Ah-ah-ah,” he tuts. “We’re getting ahead of ourselves. Tell me the safe word first, Y/N.”

After all this time, he still has you say it out loud beforehand. Beneath your eager lust, you appreciate the basic act of care and commitment to playing the dominant role.

“Candle,” you answer.

He thanks you as though you’ve done him a favor and places a light kiss on the edge of your jaw. Then he hooks his thumb through the side of your panties to touch the hood of your bare clit directly. A jolt of electricity singes your nerves from his first flick. Your body noticeably quivers, and Felix smirks at his quick, effortless effect on you.

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” he drawls lowly.

You swallow again, drier this time. “Mm-hm.”

“Because we don’t play while you’re working anymore, do we?”

You shake your head. “Hm-mm.”

“And you’ve been working so hard, haven’t you, baby?”

You hum again, louder this time. Or maybe it’s a full-blown moan. Whatever the sound is, it becomes incessant over each passing second and each pass of his thumb. Every noise you make is met with a return sigh or hum from Felix. Every jerk of your hips is matched by a tilt of his head or other shift in his posture.

Getting fingered like this, fully dressed and up against the front door of your home, spikes a carnal, filthy pleasure into your blood. It sears through your muscles, hotter and hotter until it beads between your skin and your clothes. You want to take them off, but you dare not stop Felix for a second. You keen with lust and desperation.

“I know. I know,” he purrs, soft and sweet as a kitten. “Feels good, doesn’t it? Feels so good...” He nuzzles the space between your jaw and your neck and inhales deeply.

You tilt your face away to give him better access, but he peels back and takes your chin in his other hand to steer you back toward him. A puff of hot breath hits your damp temple; it almost feels cool.

“Eyes on me. Good girl.” His gaze skims down your form. “You’re still shaking. All I’ve done is touch your clit and you’re that close already, huh?”

“Yes, so close,” you admit, completely unashamed. “Just keep going, please just keep going.”

Felix smiles and takes the sweat from your temple with a pair of kisses. “How can I say no when you beg me so nicely like the perfect angel you are? Hold onto me. C’mon.”

You instinctively go to clutch his biceps but think of a better idea and hook your arms around his neck instead. Felix allows you to pull him even closer and finally — finally — slips another finger into your panties. He pushes it into your opening with almost no resistance, and you gasp when his knuckles bottom out inside you. Just as quickly as the finger entered, a second one joins and curls. He keeps them buried for a moment, then drags them back out to smear the juices he collected around your swollen bud. The slipperier his work gets, the more he enjoys it.

“Your pussy is so perfect,” he breathes. “Spread your legs. I want to feel just how wet it gets for me.”

You obediently open your legs wider, and he delves back in immediately, fast enough that his palm audibly claps against your slick lips, hard enough to send your head tipping backward to thump against the door. When his thumb drops back to your clit and nudges under the hood this time, you know it won’t be long until you’re unraveled.

“Ohhh my god,” you groan. More sweat builds on your forehead, on your chest, under your arms, along the backs of your knees. You grow lightheaded from the static in your veins from being fucked open by Felix’s talented, diligent fingers.

“That’s it,” he pants. You’re not sure when he became so breathless. “That’s it, sweetheart. Let go. Come for me. Come for me. Come.”

Another dozen strokes and you do as you’re told with a pinched yelp. Felix kisses your throat as he works you up your high and eases you back down, undulating his wrist and babbling encouragements into your sticky skin.

“That’s it, squeeze my fingers, just like that. Squeeze ‘em tight. Tight. There you go. That’s my good girl. So gorgeous when you come. So fucking perfect. Hey.”

The hand not still knuckle-deep in your pussy cups your cheek and pulls you in. He swallows the whines and the airless, nonsensical words of thanks you huff between kisses.

Once your breathing has had time to settle, he gingerly slips his fingers from your sensitive, throbbing walls. He doesn’t even look at those fingers as he brings them to his tongue. In fact, he closes his eyes altogether as he laps the tips and moans indulgently, as though this is the first time he has ever tasted you.

When he is done cleaning the mess you made on him, he looks you in the eye and says, “Now that we’ve rubbed out that easy one, I’m open to suggestions on what to do next.”

“Let me return the favor?” You inflect it as a question.

Felix smirks. “It wasn’t a favor, sweetheart, it was a pleasure. But since you’re asking so nicely again… c’mere.”

He tugs you by the hands and begins walking backward, slipping out of his shoes as he goes, and you follow his lead. You assume he is bringing you to the bedroom, but he stops when his feet hit the carpet in the living room and glances over his shoulder. It must be the chair he was looking for because he then moves toward it with a sense of purpose, leaving you a few paces behind.

“Strip,” he orders. His voice is even and his expression is calm as he sits and crosses an ankle over his opposite knee.

You move to obey without hesitation, twisting your arm behind your back to yank down the zipper on your dress. Felix keeps his eyes fixed on your face as you peel the gown away from your shoulders. Gravity takes the fabric to your waist, and you shove it down the rest of the way to step out of it completely. Next, you snap one of your bra straps with an eyebrow cocked in question.

Felix nods. “Mhm. Keep going ‘til you’re in nothing but that ring.”

You had nearly forgotten about it. You lift your hand to look at it again, but a sudden noise startles you. It sounds like more of a crack than a snap from the way it ricochets off the walls of your home, though you know a snap is exactly what it was by the pose of Felix’s fingers in the air.

“Don’t get distracted now,” he says, deep voice rumbling. He drops his hand back to his lap. “You’re being so good. Finish taking off your clothes, then come here.”

With his instructions, you unhook your bra and let it drop to the floor. His eyes dip to your naked chest, but his expression is more clinical than enticed.

You shove your thumbs into the band of your panties and stall there until you get the attention you want. It takes Felix a few seconds to realize you’re not moving and look back to your face. When he meets your eyes, he mouths the word ‘off,’ leaving his teeth planted in his bottom lip for an extended moment. Even when he is silent, you feel the authority radiating from him. You shiver when the air hits your slick, heated center.

Felix uncrosses his legs, and you finally glean a proper peek at your effect on him. The erection in his pants looks past the point of painful, but his demeanor is still relaxed as he invites you to stand in front of him by casually tossing a throw pillow at his feet. Once your toes brush against it, he reaches for your hands and sweeps his lips across your knuckles, quick and affectionate. Then his hands are on your waist, and near your ribs, and around the curves of your ass, and across your thighs. He soothes them up and down your skin, imprinting patches of heat everywhere he roams.

“There’s my gorgeous girl.” He leans forward and plants an open-mouthed kiss on your lower stomach, then peers up through his eyelashes at you and directs, “On your knees for me, gorgeous.”

Another look at his covered crotch and you do as you’re bid. When your knees touch down on the pillow, Felix shifts to whip his belt out of its loops at last. By the time it clanks to the floor, you’re already helping him with the button and the zipper. He lets you tug his pants down to and away from his ankles. His socks go next, and he takes care of his sweater and undershirt himself. His underwear is last but gone in a flash and then there he sits, stripped bare with his toned abdominals twitching and his cock standing flushed and rigid just for you. He is so goddamn beautiful.

“Is this what you want?” He leans back and takes his rosy length in a loose fist. “Is this what you’ve been being so good and working so hard for?”

You swallow and pretend it’s his precum sliding down your throat. “Yes.”

“What’s that, baby?” He strokes upward.

“Yes.”

“What do you say?” He strokes downward. Back up again. Your eyes may as well be stringed puppets with the way they follow helplessly.

“I said yes,” you repeat again.

And he patiently repeats: “No, what do you say? Look at me.”

Once you meet his lust-glazed stare, you don’t have to wrack your brain for the answer he’s looking for.

“Please,” you say, “let me suck your cock. I want it so badly. You deserve to feel good after waiting so long.”

Felix tucks his chin down, puckers his lips, and releases a ball of spit onto the head of his cock. Another soon follows, racing alongside the first, joining the trail of wetness that already leaked from the slit.

You shuffle closer between his knees and take him in your hand. He lets go of himself, but not before brushing his fingertips along the back of your hand. The gesture is deliberate, not coincidental, and you smile up at him. He smiles back, more with his eyes than his mouth. His mouth is used to give commands such as, “Put it in your mouth, sweetheart,” before leaning back comfortably. Even with his pulsing erection at your mercy, he is a marvel of beauty and dominance.

You give him a few strokes to spread the wetness around and simply enjoy the slick glide, then bend to take in his wet tip. He tastes delicious. Good enough for you to moan on contact, good enough for you to want to fill your entire mouth with his warm heaviness. He is tangy from his natural body and sweet from the taste of wine lingering in his spit. You sink down further, letting your tongue follow the path of a prominent vein.

“Open wide. That’s it,” he says. His voice is steady but barely there. The relief of finally being touched where he wants it most runs a succinct shiver through his legs, but otherwise he remains controlled, even when you tighten your lips to hollow your cheeks. “There you go. So good for me. So good at sucking my dick.”

His praise leaves you hungry for more, so you slather your tongue down and around his balls to hear the way his sighs and quiet pants start to crack his composure. He shifts his hips to ensure you can reach every sensitive part of him, and his cock feels just a bit stiffer when you try to swallow it down your throat.

“Hah,” he gasps. “Oh, fuck, baby, that’s it.”

On the armrest of the chair, his fist clenches tight enough to pop a knuckle. He soon releases it, however, and moves his hand toward you. You half-expect him to hold you in place because you know how much he enjoys being in your throat, but instead, he eases you off of him and uses his loose grip on the top of your head to roll it back in a slow, gentle circle along your neck and around your shoulders. A strand of spit — there is no way to tell whether it is yours or his — still bridges your lips to his swollen cock. You reach out to break it with your tongue, curling it devilishly. Felix watches with dark, hooded eyes.

“Dirty girl.” He wipes away the dribble on your chin with his thumb. “Where do you want it?”

You don’t quite understand his question. “Hm?”

Once again, he takes your hands in his, this time to help you up off the floor and onto his lap where he can sling your arms around his neck. The only conceivable reason for him to cut a blowjob so short is that he is already too close to coming. You won’t call him out on it, but you’re thrilled to know it’s true.

“I asked you where you want it. Where do you want me to fuck you?” His vulgar inquiry is warm honey on your tongue. “You want me to take you up against the wall? Fuck you so good and so hard that you can’t fucking walk in the morning? Hm?” His hum vibrates your lips with the sweetest melody. “Do you want me to take you in our bed, under the sheets, nice and slow, until you can’t remember your own name?” His lips are a soft, decadent treat you sink your teeth into. “Or do you want me to take you in this chair, right here where I sat while you were across the room working for hours and hours instead of bouncing on my dick?” His perfume is a laced drug that could leave you high in bliss for hours.

“Yes,” you breathe into his mouth. You pull at his lips, molding and folding them with yours while you feel up every inch of his skin you can reach — his jaw, his back, his arms, his chest, his stomach.

Felix relinquishes a shred of his control with a groan as he ravishes your lips right back. His own hands crawl along your shoulder blades, your spine, your ass. Eventually, he clears his head well enough to say, “That’s not an answer, sweetheart. You need to tell me right now where you want to fuck, or I’m choosing for you.”

“Here. Chair. Now,” you rasp brokenly.

He hoists you up right away, perching your ass halfway onto one of his forearms and using his other hand to drag his swollen, spongy cockhead through your folds until he finds your entrance. The tip slips inside with a stretch but little resistance, as does the rest of him until your lap and his are pressed flush against one another’s.

You rock your hips slowly to welcome the intrusion and ensure he is as deep and you are as full as possible, and his breath hitches from the movement. He lowers his eyes in a straight path from your eyes to your nose to your chin. His lips part as though he is going to say something, but after a couple seconds, he leans forward to give you another searing kiss instead, bracing a hand against your spine to keep you from tipping backward from the sudden motion.

Whatever he was going to say about how good it feels to be sunk in your wet heat again is conveyed through his tongue on yours and the way he clutches your bare skin.

Just when you think perhaps all his words have dried up, Felix sucks his mouth off yours, lays a slap across your ass, and grunts in deep bass: “Bounce for me, baby.”

You would love nothing more than to do just that, so you build up a steady pace as quick as you can. He is just thick enough to rub your walls and make them burn in the best way imaginable. The smacks that come from your pelvis and thighs meeting his over and over are lewd and wet and so fucking good. So fucking good.

You shut your eyes and hang your head back. “Oh my fucking god…”

Felix keeps an arm hooked around your moving waist while he paws at you from the front. He splays his free hand across your throat, applying just enough pressure to get a feel for your erratic pulse, then slips down your collarbone, down your chest to squeeze one of your tits.

“That’s it, baby. This is what we’ve been missing, isn’t it?” He lifts your breast and leans forward to wrap his lips around the perked nipple. The sensation makes you involuntarily clench around him, and he whimpers from the tightness. “Fuck, I’ve missed this so much.”

His admission spurs you to speed up. You try to roll your hips at the bottom of every drop, but your movements are getting sloppier the higher your pleasure climbs. It doesn’t seem to matter to Felix, though. His ragged breathing is a telltale sign of how good it feels to have your soaked pussy dragging up and down his cock. He tries to find your staggered rhythm in order to buck upward in time with your drops and help drive himself into your sweetest spot, but although both of you are hyper-concentrated on reaching your peaks, the coordination is not quite there.

“Sweetheart, you’re falling apart on my dick,” he moans with the little breath he has. “Jesus, you’re squeezing me so goddamn tight. You’ve already come once and now you’re about to soak my whole fucking lap, aren’t you?”

“Lix, I-I’m s-s-so-” you trill mindlessly.

“So close, I know.” He gives the fleshiest part of your ass another solid slap, then digs his fingers in to help you rock back and forth against him. “Do it. Come again on my fucking cock, baby. We’ve earned it.”

You work to get all the friction the ridges of his raw cock can give you, but the edge you’re chasing is still on the horizon, just a bit too far out of reach. “Felix, I can’t…”

“I’ll get you there,” he swears. “Let’s just—”

In no time, you’re on your back on the floor and Felix is plunging his steely length back between your drenched folds. Your legs automatically anchor themselves around his hips to steady yourself against the jarring pace he sets. The aftermath of the rough carpet on your bare skin is a worry for a later. Right now, you whine at him to go faster, go harder, just don’t fucking stop, whatever he does.

Felix leans close and takes one of your knees to push it back toward your chest so he can fuck into you deeper. His breath is hot and shaky and somewhere in the vicinity of your earlobe as he whispers, “Fuck, you’ve gotta come now, angel. Please.”

He readjusts his weight and his grip on you, pushes deep just a few more times, and you’re finally coming again, crying out and clenching around him so tight it nearly hurts from how hard he is inside you. He fucks you through your entire high, never stopping the solid snap-snap-snap of his slim hips.

“God, fuck, I’m right fucking there,” he huffs and pants. Sweat drips from his brow onto your cheek. “Where do you want it? Where should I come?”

“In me, come in me,” you beg, reaching down to squeeze his tight ass and urge him even deeper into your soaked depths.

Felix whines something wordlessly lyrical in a high alto as his release fills you with a sticky warmth. He fucks his cum into you with rough, staggered thrusts, his pace slowing but never completely stopping. Your legs begin to ache as he continues gingerly pumping himself. You assume his spent cock must hurt from the rising sensitivity following his orgasm, but he is not quite finished.

“Holy shit,” he whimpers. “Your pussy’s so fucking tight, I think I could come again.”

Your walls clench around him because you know he is serious. “Do it, baby,” you pant hard. “Use my pussy to come again. I want it all.”

“Yes, yes, yes. Just a little more, I’m gonna— fuck!”

He finds a second shaky high and buries his fingers in your hips deep enough that the bruises may last until your wedding day. The force with which he pulses a final spurt of cum toward your cervix is something you’re certain to remember for a long time as well.

“Holy shit,” Felix sighs again, blissful and fucked out. The two of you moan together when he slips out of you, still half hard. “Come here, angel.”

He slumps to the side and gathers you in his arms to face him. You tuck your forehead between his jaw and his shoulder, and he traces his fingertips along your shoulder blades where the skin is a little irritated from its row with the carpet. You’re not worried about the sting, but your nerves wince under his touch anyway, and he apologizes immediately.

“Shit, I’m sorry, I’m such an idiot. I shouldn’t have—”

“You’re not an idiot,” you giggle tiredly. “We’ve had worse rug burn before. Much worse.”

“I know, which means I know better than to have sex on the carpet.” He kisses your forehead and sweeps a thumb across your cheek. “I shouldn’t have gotten so caught up, I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you insist. “Being fucked into the carpet never felt so good.”

Felix laughs quietly, deeply. “It was definitely worth the wait. I haven’t come twice in a row like that in a while.” His sigh is exhausted but pleased; his hug is weak but loving.

After a moment of recovery, he helps you stand and urges you to use the bathroom and change into something comfortable, and you agree on the condition he does the same.

Before you dress, he peppers sweet kisses along your lightly scraped skin and helps you apply lotion over it. He also insists that you drink at least half a glass of water to rehydrate yourself before you both return to the living room so you can finally show him what the two of you have been celebrating in the first place. He massages the back of your neck soothingly as you walk side by side.

“Alright, now I’m actually really proud of this, but you still need to be honest with me, okay?” you preface. Without waiting for him to respond, you whip the sheet covering the easel away with a flourish.

The moment it is revealed, Felix eyes dart over the portrait in patternless directions. You want to see inside that pretty head of his to know every thought going through his mind while he examines your depiction of him, but you can’t, so you keep your eyes trained on his pensive face and wait quietly for him to share whatever feedback he chooses.

“Y/N,” he eventually begins. You can’t tell if the hush in his tone is because he is awed or appalled.

“Yes?”

Felix turns to look you in the eye. “How do you keep outdoing yourself?”

A note of laughter pops past your lips, and the nervousness in it surprises you. “Well, you know what they say about practice. Does that mean you like it?”

“Are you kid— I love it! I don’t even know where to begin! The detail, Y/N! It’s so—” He faces his two-dimensional self again and waves his hand through the air in front of the canvas in a gesture you have no idea how to interpret. Then he extends a single finger toward the bottom edge of the canvas. “Like right here. The shadowing is so good. And the way you did the lighting here...” He lifts his finger higher to point at his painted cheekbones. “You did my freckles so well, I wouldn’t even be surprised if you captured literally every single one of them. It’s, like, scary good. And I don’t know if this is technically a critique towards the realism, but I don’t think my hair has ever actually looked this good in real life.”

You laugh louder, more happily. “I do think I did a pretty good job, but your real life self is way better than this, doll. Trust me.” You tuck a lock of hair behind his ear, and he brings his face back around to look at you again.

“I don’t even know what else to say without sounding dumb about it,” he tells you. It is not often he sounds bashful around you anymore, but he does now. “I’ll have to keep processing it. But in my unprofessional opinion, to my untrained, non-artistic eye, I’d say this is certifiably amazing work, sweetheart.”

You touch his cheek. “As long as you don’t feel like leaving me over it, you don’t have to say anything else.”

Felix takes your other hand and kisses the center of your palm, then each of your fingertips separately, then the ring between your knuckles.

Tomorrow, you’ll ask him for the story of how he happened to have it in his pocket tonight. Saturday, when Jisung sees it on your finger, you’ll ask his advice on how you should do your nails for the wedding (though you’ll probably end up having them done by your groom anyway). Next week, you’ll ask Felix what time of year he has in mind for the ceremony, or if he even wants to make a big pageantry of it. The week after that, you’ll either start looking into wedding venues or making an appointment with City Hall.

And years from now, when your children ask you about the portrait you painted of their father, you’ll tell them you did it because he was always your biggest supporter, and you’ll be reminded just how in love the two of you were tonight.

---

if you enjoyed, please consider re-blogging and/or leaving me some feedback. take care! ♡

copyright © 2024 by daizymax. all rights reserved. back to masterlist

#felix smut #lee felix smut #stray kids smut #skz smut #felix x reader #lee felix x reader #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #the ways we love #daizymax

[hope-drunk]

SO HOT YOU'RE HURTING MY FEELINGS

| you and abby broke up a month ago, she creates a plan to get you back.

| wc: 3.5k

| content warnings: 18+ MDNI! set in modern day, alcohol, f!reader, strap usage (reader receiving), oral (reader receiving), pet names, abby's a little mean if you squint, a bit angsty, barely proofread.

| a/n: inspired by the song 'so hot you're hurting my feelings' by caroline polachek

You didn’t know much, but you did know one thing; Abby Anderson shouldn’t be messed with. You two had broken it off over a slight argument, you didn’t understand why she couldn’t see your side of the story and accept that you weren’t flirting back with her teammate. When you two had the argument over it, the floodgates opened, and you and Abby had laid it all out on the table. By the end of it, you had stormed out of her apartment and went back to yours, finalizing the breakup with a text. You hadn’t talked to her since. The ‘we’re over’ text had been left on read for over a month.

It didn’t stop the hurt though, you looked back through the messages everyday, even though they made you slightly cringe now. It had all been so simple. You spent every second together, and when you weren’t together, there were hundreds of texts to make up for it. You honestly didn’t know how you were still breathing, you missed her more than anything. The rage wore off after the first week, and you haven’t been able to bounce back. But tonight you were dragged to a party by your roommate, and you figured, why not, it was fine to get a little drunk to deal with your feelings every once in a while. 

The idea was that you’d be set free by the alcohol; to let loose a little. And you did! You had fun for a solid forty-seven minutes before the fun was disrupted. The second your and Abby’s song turned onto the loud speakers, you were done for. You walk off into the open bathroom and sit down onto the closed lid of the toilet. Your head falls into your hands. The song had sobered you up quick. You take your phone out of your skirt pocket to do what you usually do when you get reminded of Abby, ready to open the instagram app and scroll along her profile, and you would’ve been content doing that, until your phone lights up with a text from her. You open it immediately. 

“What the fuck?” You mumble. 

You scroll through the multiple photos she’s sent you; all of her at the gym, flexing her muscles. She starts typing, and you feel your heart drop to your stomach.

sorry, wrong person.

You can’t help the scoff that comes out of your mouth. “Seriously?” You say, again, only to yourself.

You don’t give her a response, simply setting your phone on the sink and rubbing a hand over your face. It’s like she knew. She knew you were tipsy and about to stalk her. She knew that you heard the stupid song that you danced around her apartment to. You swear it was a secret sense of hers. 

After about ten minutes, you go back out into the party; beelining for the alcohol table. You pour the liquid into a plastic red cup, estimating what you think would be a shot, and send it down the hatch. You were entirely too sober to deal with this situation.

“Hey there, you alright?” Your roommate yells over the loud music.

“She fucking sent me pictures, of her– of her muscles.” You say, now that you were standing, the alcohol started to have its effects again. 

“What? Seriously? I’m sorry. Why, exactly?”

“I don’t know, she said wrong person.” you try not to let the tears escape your eyes, not wanting to cause a scene.

“Okay, well, fuck. That’s kind of worse. Did you text her back?” She says, giving you a panicked look.

“Of course not, what am I supposed to say?”

“It’s gonna be alright, let’s just have fun, okay?” She smiles at you, trying to reassure you of her words.

You nod your head and she moves you back onto the dance floor. Again, with the alcohol in your system, you start to have a good time again. You dance and laugh and have fun; you don’t even check your phone. You don’t keep track of how much you keep drinking, but you’re sporting a hefty buzz by the time you sit down on the couch for a break. Your head spins as you pull out your phone to check the time. The bright 2:13 stares back at you, and then your attention is caught by a notification on your phone, Abby has refollowed you on instagram. You groan, hadn’t she done enough tonight? 

Suddenly, you felt the overwhelming urge to call her, even though you know you shouldn’t. You were doing so good, so good! And a few pictures and an instagram notification were enough to convince drunk-you that calling her was a good idea. You walk down the staircase of the apartment complex and go outside to the picnic table that sits in front of the building. You recognize some people from the party smoking, but you don’t pay them any mind. You open Abby’s contact on your phone. Your finger hovers over the call button. Should you really do this? Should you reopen this wound that you were working so hard to close? But on the otherhand, should Abby be allowed to fuck with you like this? No, no. She had to know that she needed to stop. You press the call button and bring your phone to your ear, listening to it ring.

She picks up after the third ring, “Um, hello?”

“Yeah, hi. I need you to stop. I don’t want to see pictures of you being hot at the gym and I don’t want you to follow me on instagram. We’re done, so I don’t know why you’d send me pictures and when I don’t respond you follow me again. I really– I can’t do this, okay?” You ramble into the phone, the alcohol gives you more courage than you would’ve had sober.

“Okay, well, the photos were an accident–”

“Bullshit,” you cut her off. “That’s bullshit. And I know it is, because I know you.”

“Are you drunk right now?

“I’m at a party, yeah. That’s why I need you to stop. I’m having fun.”

“I’m coming to get you.” You hear a muffled noise of bed sheets being pushed off her body.

“No, you’re not. You don’t know where I am.” You say smugly.

“You think I don’t get invited to the same parties that you do, sweetheart? I’m on my way.” Abby says, she hangs up the phone directly after so you can’t talk back.

You feel hot all over. The anger and the alcohol heat you up. You already regret the call, and now you have to deal with telling your roommate that Abby is coming to get you. You decide to text her instead of telling her to her face. The alcohol gave you confidence, but not enough to tell her that you were being picked up by the girl who’d left you bedridden for two days.

so, funny story, abby is on her way to pick me up, sorry. see u later ok?

You put your phone back into your pocket after sending the message, not daring to pull it back out once it starts vibrating. You sit on the table and wait for Abby’s car to pull up in front of the building. You will yourself to sober up before seeing her. You know that your mouth will betray you if you try to speak to her while you’re drunk. You also know that you won’t be as brave as you were over the phone. Talking shit behind the screen is one thing, but being face to face with Abby is another. She’s so intimidating, even now. Her height and her build, the calm expression she has on her face at all times. The most you could get out of her was a jaw twitch, and that was only if you had been arguing for a few hours. 

You hear her car before you see it; her brakes have always been squeaky. She pulls up fast, having to slam on the brakes to fully stop in front of you. It seems like she hasn’t forgotten her manners, because before you can open the door of her car, she’s getting out of the driver’s seat and opening it for you. Once you sit down, she even buckles your seatbelt. Honestly, she was making it really hard to stay mad. The action almost makes you cry again. 

She walks back to her side and gets in, putting the car in drive and speeding off. You turn your legs towards the door and put your chin in your hand. Abby scoffs at the childish action, but doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t have music playing on the radio, so all you hear is the wind rustling through the open windows. Your hair flies back and forth, and you make a big display of trying to smooth it down. Abby's hair is always in a braid, so she doesn’t see a problem with driving like this.

Before you know it, you’re pulling into a parking spot at Abby’s apartment complex. This time you’re quicker than her, unbuckling the seatbelt and opening the car door. 

“I don’t want to come in.” You say. “I thought you were taking me to my place.” A lie, you figured she would bring you here, but you were scared to go in; scared of the memories it would bring up.

“You’re coming inside, so…” She trails off, waving her hand towards the door.

Your eyes well up, you look down at your feet so she doesn’t see. “Can you just take me home, please?” 

“No, get inside. We need to talk.” The voice she uses sobers you up quicker than anything else ever could.

When you walk into her apartment, you take a seat on her dark brown couch. She walks to the kitchen and gets you a bottle of water, taking the lid off and handing it to you once she’s back into the living room. She sits on a chair across from you, putting her elbows onto her thighs and watching you greedily gulp down the water. 

It does help your head feel a bit clearer, “Thank you.” You say to her.

“Let’s talk,” she says.

“About what, Abby?”

“About why we should get back together.”

You laugh at her, it’s loud and obnoxious; one only she could pull from you. “Why would we do that?”

“Because I know you, and I know you miss me. I miss you too. I miss having you here every second and I miss texting you when you’re not here.”

“Okay, so, that’s not how this is going to work. You can’t just say you miss me without addressing why we broke up in the first place.”

She moves her chair closer to you. “And why did we break up in the first place?”

You scoff, “Because you’re possessive, and you have a jealousy issue. I talked to Mara for three seconds and we had a three hour long argument over it.”

“You used to like how possessive I was, you said it was one of your favorite things about me.”

“I did like it, I liked it when you were subtle with it. What I don’t like is getting crucified for speaking to another girl.”

“Crucified, really? God, you’re fucking dramatic.”

You huff; take another sip of your water. “This is exactly why I didn’t want to come in.” You mumble.

“Speak up for me, please. Y’know I hate it when you mumble.” Abby says, her patience running thin.

“I said that this is why I didn’t want to come in. I knew it would just be the fight all over again. I didn’t do anything wrong. She asked me how my classes were going, Abby.”

“Yeah, she also asked other girls on the team how serious we were, because she was trying to get in your fucking pants.” Abby snips, getting up out of the chair so that she can pace around.

Your mouth opens and closes. You hadn’t known that Mara was talking about you like that. She had flirted with you in the past. She was in your major, so you saw her around your lecture halls and at various parties hosted by other people you had in common. You had flirted back a few times, but it was nothing serious, just some fun banter at a few parties. She had stopped once you and Abby became official, so you thought that was the end of it. Obviously, it wasn’t.

You clear your throat, “Okay, I didn’t know that.”

“But you knew that she tried to before.”

“Abby, I’m serious when I say that nothing ever happened between us, and especially not when we were together. Do you actually believe I would cheat on you?”

Abby puts her hands on her hips and lets out a sigh, “No, I don’t.”

“So why did you fight with me over someone else’s actions?”

She sits back down in the chair. “I don’t know.”

You go and stand in front of her, she doesn’t look up at you, so you crouch down on the floor.

After a while, she speaks, “Maybe I do have a jealousy problem.”

You laugh, and she cracks a smile. “Yeah, I think you do.”

“I’m sorry, really.” She says, making sure to look directly into your eyes. “I mean it. I fucked up, but I wanna fix it. I do miss you, a lot.”

“I miss you too.” You admit. It’s quiet again, Abby brushes your hair off of your face. You can’t help but lean into her touch, her large palm is warm; it feels familiar, it feels like home. You blink up at her, “Are you going to admit that the photos were for me?”

She laughs and sniffles, you hadn’t even realized she had started crying. “Yeah, whatever. They were for you.”

You look down and laugh again. “God, I missed that sound.” Abby says.

She pulls you off the ground and places you in her lap. You touch your forehead to hers, staring intently into her eyes, her pupils seem to have expanded since earlier this evening, and you’re sure yours were just as large. You brush your nose against hers and lean your face down. If either of you were to twitch, your lips would touch.

“We gonna do this?” Abby says, barely above a whisper. Scared that if she talked louder you’d get spooked and run away.

“Make up sex sounds good to me.” You agree.

It feels like there’s a different Abby now. A hungry wolf that’s been waiting to be set free. She kisses you with such force that you move back on her lap. If she didn’t have her hands holding you up, you might’ve fallen off. Your hips grind down into her by instinct, trying to search for some friction to soothe the ache between your legs. Abby pushes your hips down onto her thigh and rolls them, forcing you to grind on the strong muscle. She doesn’t stop kissing you even for a second. You think if Abby had a superpower, it would be sex. 

Suddenly she’s standing, you wrap your legs around her waist and your arms around her neck; she still doesn’t break the kiss. She brings you into her bedroom, and you feel your eyes well up with tears. The wave of relief it sends through you is insane. You didn’t know if you’d ever be back in this room, under Abby. You didn’t know if you’d ever see her pillows or her closet again. It sounds silly, but you’ve truly missed everything about her.

She pulls away panting, “Why y’crying, baby?”

“I don’t know. Missed you; missed this room.”

She smiles and leans back down for a kiss, it’s less heated; more loving. She pushes the shirt you’re wearing up and places kisses down your stomach. You gasp as she lightly drags her tongue right above where your skirt starts. Your hips lift, urging her to take it off; urging her to get closer to where you need her.

“Gonna make it up to you, okay? Gonna make you feel so fucking good, not even gonna remember why we broke up.”

“Okay, please.” You say back to her. You place your hand on the top of her head, slowly unraveling the tight braid she has in. 

She doesn’t even take the time to take off the black maxi skirt you have on, just pushes it up your legs and takes off your panties. She stares at your cunt for a few seconds. You can feel her hot breath fanning over it. A whine falls from your lips; and suddenly she’s licking a stripe up your slit.

A moan comes from your chest. You haven’t been touched the whole month, not even by yourself. Every time you tried to masturbate, you just thought about sex with Abby, which only made you upset. You snap out of your thoughts when you feel Abby suck on your clit, it sends you reeling. You push her face further into you, and your thighs close in on her head. The noises you’re making are absurd. You’re sure her neighbors are going to leave a note on the door, but at this moment you couldn’t care less.

It’s embarrassing how fast the coil gets tight in your stomach.

“Fuck– Abby, think I’m gonna–” you can’t get a full sentence out. The words begin and end on your tongue.

She pulls her mouth away and presses her fingers into your clit, rubbing tight circles on it. “Already, bunny? Just got started.”

“I know.” It comes out whiner than you wanted it to. “I know, I’m sorry. Just feels so good.” 

“That’s alright, sweetheart. Come when you wanna, I’ll be right here.” Her mouth reconnects with your cunt.

You think it’s about ten seconds before you’re coming. You let the tears fall freely for the first time tonight. You feel so happy, your chest gets tight. Your hips grind into Abby’s mouth. She’s always been like this; staying latched onto your cunt until your orgasm is done. You cry out at the overstimulation once you’re back on Earth. She removes her mouth to shush you, pressing more kisses to your neck and moving your hair off of your sweaty forehead. Your head is reeling, your vision is blurry. 

Abby comes up and kisses you on your cheek. “You want the strap?”

A wave of arousal flows through you at the mention of it, “Would it be make up sex without it?” 

She laughs and gets off the bed, going to her closet to retrieve the box where it’s stored. She strips while she’s over there, and puts her clothes in the dirty laundry. Always so neat, can never have anything out of place. Once she gets it settled on her waist, she comes back over to you. 

“You ready, baby?”

You nod your head.

“Words, please.” She gives you a soft smile. “You forget your manners?”

“No,” you say, voice hoarse from the moaning. “I’m ready, Abby.”

She lines up the strap with your hole, and gently eases it in. You pant. You didn’t forget your manners, but you did forget how good the stretch feels. She bottoms out; the strap kisses the sweet spot inside of you.

“Fuck,” you whimper.

“Is this okay?” She asks. She’s staring down at where her hips meet yours and you can tell she’s fighting off the urge to thrust into you until you answer her.

“Yes, can you just– please move.” 

Abby doesn’t need to be asked twice. Her hips grind into yours with all the force in the world. You can tell that the strap is hitting her clit because of the grunts she’s letting out. The room feels humid at this point, and you’re sure it stinks of sex.

“You’re mine, yeah? No one else can ever have you.”

“You have–” you’re interrupted by a moan as she starts rubbing at your clit again. “You have a jealousy problem.”

Abby scoffs, “Gonna give me fucking attitude right now? When I’ve got my cock buried in this pretty little pussy?” 

You whimper at your words. You always get off on Abby telling you off. You love how dominating she is. You love watching her brows raise when you say something questionable. You can’t help but rile her up.

“You do, it’s bad. You need to work on it.”

“Stop being a brat and come on my fucking cock.”

Her words send you over the edge, this time further than you think you’ve ever been. She follows you soon after, keeping the strap buried in you while her orgasm washes over her. When you both come back, she’s fallen beside you, the silicone lays on the floor. She breathes deeply beside you. 

“So…” You say.

“So what, baby?” Abby says. She decides you’re too far away and pulls you into her chest.

“Are we back together?”

She laughs at you, really laughs. Like you’ve just said the funniest thing in the world. “Are you seriously asking me that?”

You start laughing too, “Well, I don’t know!”

“Yeah, we’re back together.”

Your smile widens and you hide your face in her chest, suddenly embarrassed by the question that slipped out. 

“Okay, well good.” You say.

You drift off like that, content to be back in Abby’s arms. Happy to be home.

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson smut #abby anderson angst #abby anderson fan fiction #abby anderson x you #abby anderson fic #abby anderson x female reader #abby ! #tlou fic

[sheriffgrimes-archerdixon]

hii!!

could you do one where daryl and rick are like father figures to the reader? she goes to try to kill negan instead of carl and when she gets back rick and daryl are really mad and she gets into an argument with them?

that’s it!!🩷

Hi! Thank you so much for the request!!! 🖤🧟‍♀️💕

A/N: it’s been like MONTHS since I’ve written so sorry for literally disappearing, but thank you all for the love! Love you all. Sorry for how long this took to get out… but I’m finally finishing it at like 1am after so many weeks… so please excuse any spelling errors! Tysm. I adore all of you xx

Rick + daryl x fem! Reader (reader is 19)

Trigger warnings: argument, zombie stuff, gore, usual twd stuff. If any of it discomforts you please read at your own discretion!

Pinky promise

You knew it was a dangerous mistake. You shouldn’t of been so ambitious. But Negan deserved death and you believed you could kill him… but it all became clear that it was a mistake. You had made a dangerous and incredibly stupid decision and you knew as soon as you got home Rick and Daryl would certainly have a go at you if not kill you then and there for being so reckless. You knew you were absolutely insane for doing something so unthinkable but Negan had to die. Rick was taking his sweet time and Negan was just going to get stronger, and that scared you, so you wanted to take it into your own hands and kill the man yourself…

And so here you were gun in hand, pointing it at the clear sheet covering the back of the truck your finger trembling slightly as you waited for the voices to get closer. “There isn’t enough in the truck, we’ll have to go out again. Get more supplies and shit. Alexandria is so big yet they can’t even supply us enough shit.” “Yeah… don’t know why Negan won’t just kill them all. That way we can actually have a good home…” the voices spoke back and forth and you tightened your hold on the gun jaw clenched tightly watching as the blurry figures got closer and as a hand poked in through the clear sheet you pulled the trigger bullets spitting out as the men began shouting, followed by multiple ‘thuds’ proving you had killed a few of the bastards, you continued shooting, even as you jumped out of the truck the bullets flying around mercilessly- some saviours dropping to the floor, dead, and others just falling for the sake of their lives. Your eyes were narrowed as you breathed heavily your teeth slightly gritted together before suddenly a body shoved against yours, Dwight knocking you down onto your back, your gun falling from your hand as you groaned out glaring at the man. “Y/n….” A voice sung out, mockingly and your eyes snapped to meet with Negans. His hazel eyes gleamed with amusement, Lucille lightly hung over his shoulder as he grinned at you “didn’t I get my point across to you before that I really do not appreciate my people being killed…” he spoke your eyes narrowing as you scowled at him. He was a rotten bastard and deserved to be knocked down a peg or two, and so that’s why you abruptly tried to grab your gun again only for Dwight to kick it out of the way “not so fast” he muttered glaring down at you, Negan staring at you the amusement seemingly growing further and further before he exhaled

“I like you, you don’t mess around do you? You just do… I like that…” he smirked before stopping just in front of you holding his hand out for you to take “you’ve actually got balls… unlike someone else we know.” He spoke that stupid fucking grin remaining on his face and you just glared hoping to punch his teeth in, but instead you reached out, grabbing his outstretched hand before he leaned back pulling you up with his movement as you got onto your feet your eyes boring into his with anger “we were planning on heading to Alexandria today so you’re in luck. I’ll get you home safely.” “Rick isn’t home. He’s out.” You spoke, that wasn’t the truth, rick was at home but you didn’t want to see him… not when you know he will indefinitely be beyond mad at you. “Oh isn’t he? How disappointing. Guess I’ll have to wait around with you then huh?” And that’s when you realised just how much you had screwed up… Negan wasn’t going to kill you because he knew that Rick was going to get angry at you… “god dammit…” you whispered under your breath, Negan smiling still before he turned around “c’mon. Follow me. I’ll give you a tour of the sanctuary…” and so that’s exactly what happened, you were shown around, introduced to a few scary people and then given some food much to your surprise… it was odd. Being looked after for by your friends’ killer. It made you feel sick but what made you feel even sicker was what was happening right now… you were sat in the truck beside Negan, driving down the familiar road leading to Alexandria. Your heart was drumming in your chest your face pale and lips slightly parted… you were in deep shit and you knew it.

Breathing soon became nonexistent, your lips slightly parted eyes wide as you watched multiple people on outpost begin to shout… oh dear god. Heavy breaths slowly left your lips your eyes filled with complete fear… sure Daryl being angry at you was enough but Rick too- you couldn’t handle both of their wrath’s. You didn’t even want to experience it but you knew you were going to experience it. “Are you coming into to talk to them?” You soon asked glancing at the man, his hands which were warmed by the leather gloves he wore squeezed at the steering wheel and he grinned at you soon shoving his foot onto the brakes the truck coming to a screeching halt just in front of the gates leading into Alexandria “nah, kid. That isn’t my shit to do. You pulled a stupid fuckin’ decision and now you’re gonna face the consequences. I told you I don’t ap-“ “appreciate you killing my men I know.” You cut him off glaring into his eyes the man looking somewhat impressed before he raised his brows “at least you can learn.” He chuckled out looking forwards as the gate was slowly pulled open “go on then, your friends are waiting.” He spoke and you looked to the gate as well seeing Rick, hands on his hips, jaw tightly clenched and eyes a sea of worry. You glanced back to Negan knowing he wasn’t going to help before you pushed the door open only for the asshole to grab your wrist forcing you to stop “you not gonna thank me for bringing you home safe and sound?” He asked with a cocky grin and you glared at him “thank. you.” You spat out through gritted teeth and he smirked “you’re welcome.”

You then jumped out of the truck before storming towards the gate of Alexandria your eyes landing on Rick and a very infuriated yet terrified looking Daryl but you ignored them- you didn’t want to deal with their anger right now. “Y/n where the hell have you been?” Rick asked, hands remaining on his hips his eyes practically piercing into your soul yet you refused to speak or even look at him because well… let’s face it… he was terrifying. “Y/n where the hell do ya think you’re goin’ huh?” Daryl soon asked gruffly and you glanced at him “home. You wanna give me a lecture. Fine. But not in front of everyone.” You snapped, both men sharing a look, as if questioning whether you had really just used that tone with them but nonetheless they followed after you, you attempted to slam the front door but Rick was quick to catch it before it could latch “cut that attitude out right now, y/n.” Rick spoke calmly his body language however far from calm “I don’t understand why you’re both so unhappy! Jesus Christ can’t I try and help out!” Rick and Daryl stood side by side shoulders brushing against each other and Rick tilted his head slightly “do you realise how incredibly foolish it was to go out there and do… whatever you did… do you?” He raised his brows his blue eyes piercing into your soul and you rolled your eyes “ah ah, no, y/n, eyes on me.” He demanded and you looked at him “you aren’t hearing me- you could’ve been killed. What you did was very stupid. Irresponsible.” He spoke and you glared into his eyes “well I wasn’t! I’m here- am I not? I’m fine!” Daryl then took a step forwards “enough. It doesn’t matter whether you’re fine or not. What matters is the fact that you pulled some stupid death wish shit…” his eyes searched yours before he shook his head “it was stupid. You might’ve been helping or thinking you were helping… but what would we do if Negan brought back your dead body huh?” Daryl asked and you looked away, uncomfortable at that question, because you knew there was no right answer to such a question

“What did you do?” He soon asked and you looked back at him “machine gunned down a bunch of his men.” You murmured shamefully as you looked down, Daryl almost unresponsive whereas Rick was immediately pinching the bridge of his nose his eyes squeezed shut before he exhaled loudly showing his pure discomfort of the entire situation “oh my god…” he squeezed his eyes shut even more before looking at you “how irresponsible are you? Are you unaware of the fact that Negan has killed many people from this community?” Ricks tone was dangerous, frustrated, bordering on the line of anger and protectiveness “what do I have to do to get it through to you that we’re working together to make this safe! We’re doing everything we can y/n,” “no we aren’t! What about the lives we promised we’d get justice for! Have they just all gone down the drain?! We can’t just keep up this bullshit! Either he dies or we die! He’s overpowering us Rick! We need to do som-“ Rick soon held his hand up at you “no! Don’t you-“ “y/n. You’re getting ahead of yourself.” The man reminded you and you breathed heavily your eyes rage full Daryl moving behind you as he slowly rubbed up and down your back trying to sooth you yet your whole body felt as if it was on fire “we get that you want to protect us and this community but-“ “no! It isn’t just that Rick! It isn’t! I want to get- I- I want…” your voice cracked as your heart began to slowly split into pieces ricks expression softening, sure he had seen you open up before but not like this… he hadn’t seen you like this often… nor had Daryl- it surprised both men. “Tell me.” Rick spoke taking a step forwards this time, as he slowly reached a hand out resting his hand atop of your shoulder “I-…. I…” Rick remained silent searching your eyes allowing you to take your time watching as your face contorted in all ways imaginable the anguish, pain and fear slowly creeping up on you “he killed Glenn! He killed Abraham! He killed our friends! Shouldn’t we be trying to kill him! He killed Glenn! He killed-… he killed the guy who saved your dumbass!” You yelled shoving his hand off of your shoulder, ricks expression showing the pain, he hadn’t fully healed- in fact he hadn’t healed at all. He hadn’t allowed himself to grieve anyone’s deaths but especially Glenn’s. Or Abraham’s. He was too busy being a leader. Too busy taking care of his people.

“Y/n we can’t change that… I’m sorry… but we can’t… but what we can’t change either is the fact that if you died we would’ve lost a key part of Alexandria…-“ “we’ve already lost a key part!” Your voice cracked and Daryl stared at you “you’re both bullshit! I can take care of myself! Why don’t you think I can’t take care of myself?!” Your voice grew angrier before you ran off upstairs Rick running a hand over his face and Daryl just watching you run off “don’t go after her…” he shook his head “let her cool off. And you cool off too” Rick spoke and Daryl nodded knowing he was right. He needed to calm down… if he didn’t he would’ve said something he regretted.

A couple of minutes passed- maybe five, or even ten, before Daryl was sent up to console you. You didn’t even hear him come in but you felt the bed dip down before you heard his soft breathing “I did what I thought was best.” You spoke more softly and Daryl nodded “I know… but it was also…” “stupid I know… don’t need to tell me again…” you murmured softly and Daryl exhaled softly “you know we just care about you. That’s why we’re so worried about you… you matter to us.” His hand rubbed up and down your back slowly and gently as you remained curled up in a ball arms wrapped around yourself weakly his touch soft and caring, his rough calloused hands rough against your skin but you didn’t care. He was comforting you… that’s all that really mattered.

“I just-… why do you keep treating me like a damn child?” You asked clearly upset about that and Daryl frowned slightly his stern features growing more soft as he saw the true confusion and frustration in your eyes “because we’ve lost people, Y/n…. Glenn, Abraham, Sophia, Dale, Hershel, Merle, Olivia… too many people to count..” he fell silent before speaking again not allowing you to say anything “and we can’t lose someone else. The stakes are set high. I wouldn’t know what to do if I lost you, Y/n. Rick wouldn’t either… today was stupid… sure you did what you thought was best but it was a little bit silly… but there’s always room for improvement” your head slowly turned to look at him a small smile tugging at your lips before you laughed softly “who knew you could be so sentimental, Dixon” you murmured and he stared at you unamused “I’m being serious,”

You smiled softly “I know… but I promise I won’t do this again alright? It was stupid… I know but it won’t happen again…” Daryl stared at you with a ‘yeah, sure’ look before you rolled your eyes soon holding your hand out towards him sticking your pinky out at him “fine. Pinky promise…” you raised your brows the older man staring a softness soon consuming his eyes before a little smile tugged at his lips, shaking his head but nonetheless he locked his pinky with yours

“Pinky promise.”

#rick grimes #twd #daryl dixon #x reader #twd imagines #rick+grimes+imagine #rick grimes twd #the walking dead imagine #the walking dead daryl #the walking dead #daryl dixon x you #rick grimes x you #twd x reader #daughter!reader #father figures #negan x y/n #negan smith #comfort #angst #dark #walkers #the walking dead stories #negan twd #you #rick grimes x y/n #daryl dixon x y/n #female reader #reader insert #requests #requests open

[enviedear]

save the date ⟶ james potter

DESCRIPTION ⌙ after an innocent suggestion that james potter is horrible at relationships, he feels inclined to prove you wrong. PAIRING ⌙ james x fem!reader CW ⌙ mention of food, eating food, petnames WORD COUNT ⌙ 2.3k

❛ ֪ ׂ shenanigans? is that what you call your love life? ֪ ׂ ❜

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for the second time this month, you’re spending your friday evening trying to drone out an argument. hilariously large and bulky headphones sit upon your ears— and yet you can still make out the aggravatingly grating noise.

if you’d known being james’ roommate would have entailed you hearing multiple fights from different girlfriends, you may not have signed the lease.

may not have— because a rent controlled apartment in the city is far too good to pass by.

truthfully, you felt a little bit bad for james. he was so good at picking gorgeous, captivating women. you could never fault his taste, no, you faulted his ability to be a boyfriend.

take this instance, a disagreement that started over dinner plans, only to devolve into a full blown argument. over what currently? you’re not exactly sure. but by the way the woman was yelling at him, you were sure he had said something stupid.

seconds later you can hear her huff, slam his door, walk down the stairs, and leave the apartment.

slowly, you remove your headphones, the noise of your music now being the only thing you can hear. you wait, looking expectantly at your door.

almost on some cue, james opens your door with a counterfeit smile on his face, “any plans tonight?”

you roll your eyes at him, “let me guess? non refundable dinner reservation and two tickets to the movies.”

he walks into your room, plopping down on your bean bag chair, “act nice or i’ll take sirius instead.”

you ignore him, “be honest, what did you do this time?”

“absolutely nothing.” he grumbles, shaking his head.

you didn’t believe him for a second. you’ve known james for four years now and you’ve lived with him for two. you knew in your soul that he, despite trying, always managed to do something.

he had a strange ineptitude for romance. it was as though he couldn't make it a week before his stupidity turned from endearing to unbearable.

he sighs, "she kept asking me if i had anything planned for our date— and i didn't want to ruin the surprise, so i just kept saying no. 'no, honey, i figure we'd wing it.' fuck— i didn't think it would blow up like that."

you gape at him, "but you did tell her, right?"

he shrugs, "by the time i thought to she was already leaving."

this was james, unable to keep a relationship purely because of his own doing.

"you're going to end up alone." you chuckle, fiddling with your phone to turn off your music.

james is silent, so you go on, "i'm saying this from a place of love, but you're horrible at relationships. almost criminally bad at them." your finger points at him, mocking.

he glares at you, tousled curls falling into his eyes, "i am not."

you grin, "yes— you are."

he ignores you, plopping down onto your bean bag, "and still i get more dates than you," he pauses, muttering out, "brat."

"you do not!" you don't mean to, but your voice comes out childishly.

james finally rids himself of his frown, smirking, "fuck's sake, calm down." it takes everything in you to not pelt him with whatever's near you. he has such a chuck-worthy grin.

it was often that the two of you would have these petty disagreements. mostly due to the close proximity of sharing the same space, but sometimes, you honestly didn't understand why both of you were so worked up.

you get off of your bed and squat down to his level, "i'm so close to throwing you out."

he smiles, and lazily pulls you down with him, "i didn't mean it, don't be mad."

you narrow your eyes, despite the grin on your face, "you're temperamental, potter."

he chuckles, eyes now closed, "and you're wrong."

you hum, arm touching his, "about what?"

he looks at you, "'bout me. that i'm bad at relationships."

you almost laugh at him, because if there was one thing you knew as fact— it was that james had a ninety-nine percent fail rate.

so you're easily coy when you speak, "oh, then please, prove me wrong."

your tone is playful, but james' eyes make you pause. he looks eerily\ honestly, determined.

"with pleasure." he says simply.

you don't say anything after. not for a few moments. you try instead to ignore the strange tightness in your chest at his words. wordlessly, you rise from beside him and open up your closet door.

"what time is this reservation?" you ask, subtitling watching his face brighten.

james smiles, "you'll come?"

you shrug, "i'll never turn down money spent well."

he laughs, "and you think my funds are best spent on you?"

there's a mischievous glint in your voice, "aren't i always the best cause."

he feigns annoyance at you, but goes to leave your room so that you can change. as you watch him go, and note the way his dress shirt hugs the curves of his toned back. often, you’d catch yourself admiring him. it was silly, but despite your usual chagrin of him and his antics, you found him so beautiful.

you’re barely concentating on the clothes he's wearing now, thinking instead to the half-awake version of him from last night, wearing only his plaid boxers and leaning against the fridge, a glass of water in his hand, eyes half-lidded.

and then, the james you so often see after a shower. his face flushed, hair tousled, and towel always riding just low enough.

of course, you noticed him and you tried not to lie to yourself about it. you found him attractive, sure, but that was all. you knew there was nothing else there, and you’d be an idiot if you let your mind even think there was.

putting your fascination with him to the side, you scour your closet for something presentable. reaching the back of your closet before finding anything, a flowy little number you had apparently hidden from yourself for god knows how long. you inspect it, and slip it on once you decide that the small wrinkles at the bottom of the skirt are inconsequential.

you do your makeup in the bathroom, james butting in often to try and hurry you along, "how many coats of mascara more? can we please leave?"

you shush him each time until you're finally ready, "there— see? that didn't take so long did it?"

he rolls his eyes, "felt like bloody years."

you chuckle, opening the door for him, "i don't even think i reached an hour, you brat."

he jingles his keys in your face, his assortment of keychains slapping against each other, "play nice."

it's safe to say you do not 'play nice' for the entire duration of the car ride. you take immediate ownership of the radio instead, queuing all your favorite songs. james protests for five or so minutes before shaking his head with you and singing along.

the restaurant he's chosen is a suedo-modern fusion steakhouse— horribly expensive— and you can't help but feel a little out of place as you step inside. james, however, seems right at home. he greets the hostess by name and leads you to a private booth in the back.

as you sit down, you eye him, "what?" he asks, sipping his water.

"how often do you come here. i mean, they seem to know you." you're smirking, finding it quite funny.

james shrunches his face, "no, actually, my parents have insisted on eating here for my past six birthdays."

you hum, "i forget mommy and daddy are wealthy, you should really advertise it more. as an incentive." you're kidding of course, james reeked of rich kid. in the nicest way.

he gestures at you with his butterknife, "you think i haven't pulled that? c'mon honey i'm not completely daft."

you chuckle, taking a sip of your own water. watching as james continues, dwelling into a story about work. you've already heard it but you'd feel wretched to tell him. so, you listen, watching his brown eyes and strong use of his hands with each adjective used.

you've almost blocked everything but him from your sense when the waiter returns, placing down an appetizer you're sure the two of you didn't order.

you look to james, who's in the middle of placing his order. he sends you a wink.

you fumble through your own order, cursing yourself for not looking at the menu more thoroughly.

"do you even know what that is?" james asks when the waiter walks away.

you roll your eyes, "yes james, i'm well aware of the french word for fish."

he shrugs, "can't hurt to make sure." there's a pause, "d'ya like the wontons?"

your face morphs into a smile, "you ordered this?"

"yeah when i made the reservation, don't feel too special." he's got a shit-eating grin on his face, freckles more prominent in the overhead light.

you tease, "i'll remember this next time you're in need of my assistance."

he leans back, feigning innocence, "hey, i'm just trying to create a memorable dining experience."

the conversation continues to flow, easy and familiar. it doesn't surprise you, how comfortable you are with james, even when he's being his usual cheeky self. the food arrives, and you both enjoy the meal, trading bites and sharing stories. it's one of those moments when you forget about the world outside and just relish in the company of a friend.

as dessert arrives, james leans in a bit closer, his tone shifting to something more serious. "you know, i appreciate you putting up with my shenanigans. not just tonight, but all the time."

you raise an eyebrow, a playful grin on your face, "shenanigans? is that what you call your love life?"

he chuckles, but his gaze is sincere, "yeah, that and everything else. you've been there for me, and i don't say it enough, but i'm really grateful."

you feel a warmth in your chest at his words, and for a moment, the playful banter fades away. "you're not so bad yourself, potter."

he smiles, a genuine one this time, "i'd hope so."

an hour passes by, and you're both lost in conversation when you realize the restaurant is beginning to close up. with a sigh, you both gather your things and leave. the night air is cool as you step outside, and you find yourselves walking down the quiet streets back to his car.

as you stroll, james looks over at you, his expression soft, "you know, i might not be great at relationships, but i've always liked what we have. you're more than just a roommate to me, you're like my confidant, my partner-in-crime, and my closest friend."

you feel a flush of emotion at his words, a mix of happiness and something you can't quite put your finger on. "you too, potter. just don't let it get to your head."

he grins, slipping his hands into his pockets, "wouldn't dream of it."

the two of you continue your leisurely walk, the city lights casting a warm glow around you. it's a somewhat quiet night, but the silence is comfortable, the kind that comes from years of shared experiences and unspoken understanding.

as you approach the car, james stops and turns to you, his gaze searching yours, "you know, i might be awful at relationships, but there's one thing i'm certain of."

you raise an eyebrow, curious, "and what's that?"

he opens his car door, soft smirk on his face, "i'm pretty sure i've already found the best thing in my life."

your heart skips a beat, but your eyes roll, "smooth, potter. really laying it on thick."

he chuckles, a hint of nervousness in his eyes, "i mean it, though." he proceedes to give a light shrug before getting into the car.

you chuckle and follow him, "you're insufferable."

he smiles, turning to head to you, "you can say whatever you want, but you know deep down you love me."

you slide into the passenger seat and playfully roll your eyes, "maybe i just have a high tolerance for insufferable people."

james starts the car, and as he pulls away from the curb, he glances at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes, "ah, so you're admitting it now, are you?"

you laugh, shaking your head, "i said high tolerance, not undying affection."

he grins, focusing on the road, "well, that's progress, i suppose."

the drive back to your apartment is filled with lighthearted banter and comfortable silences. when you finally arrive, you both step out of the car and make your way to the entrance.

as you approach your apartment door, james turns to you, a playful grin on his face, "you know, i have another surprise for you."

you raise an eyebrow, curious, "oh really? and what might that be?"

he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small box, presenting it to you with a flourish, "ta-da! a box of chocolate-covered strawberries, your favorite."

you take the box with a surprised smile, "well, well, james potter, you're really pulling out all the stops tonight."

he chuckles, "just trying to prove that i'm not a lost cause in all things romantic."

you open the box and take a strawberry, popping it into your mouth with a satisfied hum, "i have to admit, this is a step in the right direction."

james grins, looking almost proud of himself, "i'll take what i can get."

you both head inside, and as you settle back into your apartment, you can't help but reflect on the evening. despite his usual antics and relationship mishaps, there's a side of james that you've come to appreciate more and more—a side that values your friendship and makes an effort to show it.

as the night winds down and you both prepare for bed, you find yourself sitting on your respective beds, sharing a comfortable silence. you glance over at james, who's focused on scrolling through his phone, and you can't help but feel a sense of contentment.

"hey, potter," you speak up, breaking the silence.

he looks up, raising an eyebrow, "yes, my dear roommate?"

you smirk, "you know, you might be onto something with this whole 'proving me wrong' thing."

he grins, setting his phone aside, "oh, am i winning you over, then?"

you shake your head, a teasing glint in your eyes, "let's not get ahead of ourselves. but maybe, just maybe, you're not as hopeless as i thought."

james leans back, looking satisfied, "i'll take that as a victory."

you both exchange smiles, and in that moment, you're reminded of why you agreed to be james potter's roommate in the first place. despite his esoteric personality, he's genuine and loyal, and always there to bring a smile to your face—even if it's through exasperation.

with a smirk you get up, making your way upstairs before calling out, "I'm free this Sunday, might as well give you a second date."

#james potter x reader #james potter #james potter x you #james potter x reader smut #james potter x reader fluff #james x reader #james potter one shot #james potter headcanon #young james potter #marauders era #marauders #the marauders era #the marauders #marauders headcanon #james potter fluff #james potter imagine #james potter x y/n #james potter fanfiction

[hyukaslvr]

strong enough | J. Jungkook (2)

<series masterlist

pairing: Jungkook x (f) reader

genre/tags: idol! Jungkook, idol! reader, idiot exes to lovers, slow burn ; k-drama feels (our beloved summer but not at the same time), angst, drama, fluff, smut

warnings: foul/explicit language, alcohol consumption, unhealthy coping mechanisms, feelings of helplessness, insecurities; commitment issues & emotionally constipated characters, panic attacks, reader is harsh towards Jungkook, Jungkook is a meanie!, mentions of old abuse (major trigger warning!!), talk about blood and wounds

w.c: aproxx 10.2k

series summary: you and Jungkook have too many personal problems, during and after your relationship and it keeps getting brought up. you both had tried multiple times to ignore the fact you were both struggling mentally and physically due to your workplace, but you always run back to each other. maybe one day, one day you'll get back to each other, with all your problems handled, maybe not. all you want is for him to shine like he always does, all he wants is you.

a/n at very bottom!

the mirrors of your practice room were foggy, the heat radiating off of your whole groups bodies as you worked your hardest to perfect all the choreographies to your newest album. you worked especially hard since last week, you took a long time to really think about what happened.

“we both know you’re just as messy,” Jungkook spat at you, you bit back your tears and fought your conscience screaming at you to walk away. this isn’t something you would just walk away from, not with your boosting ego.

“this is why we won’t work out, Jungkook, you’re acting like a bitch. fix yourself, i’ll fix me. i thought you were doing better, but it seems like you’re still the dick you were during all our fucking arguments,” you grabbed your belongings and starting walking away from his frozen figure, his words hitting him like a brick in the face. you came out here with him hoping you could talk to him, make him remember the reason why you weren’t communicating things or in contact, but he just proved to you why you shouldn’t have came.

Jungkook sat back down, right where you sat, thinking over things. anytime he would see you, he felt this rage build up inside of him. the rage coming from nowhere, yet appearing whenever your pretty face shows up in his sight. he hates it. he swore to control his anger, the way he acted when things didn’t go his way, but apparently anger management isn’t enough for him.

it’s not that he hates you, he adores you, he loves you. but sometimes, he feels like he can’t stand you. you act like you have everything in your life sorted out, when you don’t, not without him. it might be toxic of him to think of you that way, but it’s true. you know it’s true, deep inside and past your wall that you’ve built up for no one to see behind your cute personality set for the stage. only he knows the real you, at least he thinks, and he knows you have a shit ton of problems just like him.

Jungkook clenches his fists, his knuckles turning white at the thought of how he spoke to you. you don’t deserve that, but at the same time, he rightfully believes you need someone to put you in your place sometimes. but at the same time, you wish someone would knock some sense into Jungkook and make him grow up, even if he grew up way to fast, he still is childish as ever when it comes to talking about things.

you snapped out of your state of thought as one of your members patted your back, telling you to drink up some water before starting again. you wiped your face with a towel before gulping down half of your bottle, tossing it on the floor, and starting up again. thank god that you have therapy tomorrow, you thought as you stand in position once again, waiting for the music to start up.

“he said that to you?” your therapist questioned, jotting down notes quickly so you can speak more about how you felt during that moment. you felt angry, sad, all of the above. out of all people you thought would understand, Jungkook was the one you felt would. yet, he opens his mouth and speaks mean words towards you like he always did when he was struggling, never able to control what he says. but who were you to talk, you did the same things, but you were for sure better at controlling it.

“i thought we were ready to talk about why we actually broke up, i thought i was to say at the least, he for sure wasn’t,” you sighed, picking at your skin around your fresh pedicured nails out of habit. it breaks your heart, seeing him that way, he only acts like that when he’s in a deep place. you can visualize him going home, and immediately changing into work out clothes, beating on his punching back until the chain gives out, his knuckles bleeding with open wounds.

but then again, who’s ever ready to talk about a long relationship ending? at the time, walking to the park in the freezing cold, you felt ready. you walked high and proud as you were side by side with the man whose heart you constantly break. maybe he did have the right to act that way, but it still hurts coming from him. yeah, you had to figure out your shit, but so did he, so him acting like that felt hypocritical.

“darling, no one is ever ready to talk about why relationships end the way they end,” she starts again, it’s was like she was reading your mind as you sat there quietly in thought, “maybe you should of waited, but know you know for sure that now isn’t the right time to get back together, no matter how much you both want and crave it,”

“we’re like the same person, at least i like to think so. i just want him to understand why i do what i do,” it makes your head hurt thinking about reasons why he couldn’t try to understand you at the least, it was the least he could do along with loving you. he was always so unreasonable with mental health.

“just give him some time to think about what he said and how he can fix things over time, time heals everything,” bullshit.

you felt like a mess, sitting in front of the vanity mirror as you get your hair fixed by your stylist, her sweet smile as your eyes reached hers in the mirror comforted you in the slightest, you just had to get through tonight and then you’ll be able to be alone in your dorm room, in the comfort of your own bed.

“feeling anxious?” your leader lets her head fall on your shoulder, smiling at the glitter in your inner corners and poking your cheek in awe, “you’ll be okay, at least you’re pretty and have curly hair,” her finger twirls the curl resting in the small ponytail in your hair, letting it boing back to place.

once your stylist was done, she spun your chair to face your leader, who bent down to fix the curls in your face, cupping your cheeks once she was done and smiling down at you, “i just wish to be home right now,” you sigh, practically melting into her hold and she squishes your cheeks in response. you wanted to cry, the amount of promotions you had this week drained every last bit of emotion out of you.

“just put a smile on that frowny face of yours, get out there and look as cute as you always do during fansigning, we’re gonna have a party tonight!” you groan in response, she lets go of your face to cross her arms across her chest, noticing your negative response to the idea of partying, “what’s wrong with getting wasted after all these promotions? it’s not like anyone else will be there,”

that was a lie, you sat in a corner of your shared house with group after group showing up and partying, while you just wanted to be in your bed. maybe if you get drunk enough, you can dance with a random and have some fun tonight, you thought while staring at your other members already claiming other males to dance with. the lights flashing making your head hurt, as you stood up to get another glass of your drink.

there was yelling going on around you, but you chose to ignore it and downed half of your cup before heading towards your room, planning on locking your door and drowning all the noise of the party out with music. but your heart and feet stopped when hollers from the front door caught your attention. the person who took feet away from you, you wished to disappear out of his sight. no, it wasn’t Jungkook, right about now you wished it was instead of the monster who stood close in front of you, but far away at the same time

Choi Jaehyun, also known as the dick that cheated on you, also known as the abusive alcoholic you had dated, also known as the reason for the way you were now. one little glance towards his way made you gag, in shock and disbelief that he would dare to even show up here. the first thing he did was grab a beer, like he always did at his house after hitting you like you were the cause of all his problems.

it makes you ache, your heart especially knowing you loved his shit ass self at one point, thinking that he would change if you just covered up all the marks he would leave on you. after that relationship was over, your leader swore at you to never get back into another relationship until you got over him. you were over him, to say the least, but not over the way he made you feel. he made you feel worthless, ungrateful, unworthy, like a weakling.

“you think you deserve to be out there in the spotlight, like the bitch you are?” he spat in your face, his hands close to your face making you feel like something was coming towards you.

“baby, please just sit down and listen to me-” another smack hit your cheek, the tingling burned and made you call out in a cry, “jaehyun! please, stop and just have a drink-” you gasped out, the tears burned your eyes but slightly cooled the heat of your cheek.

“drink some more, is that what you fucking what? you want me more drunk so you can run away again?” he grabs your cheek hard, pulling it as he backed you against the cold of the refrigerator. you tried to focus on the loud humming coming from the damn thing, instead of the burning sensation of his hand pinching at the same place he just whacked you, “you’ll never be able to get away from me, not again, baby,”

the tears flowed from your cheeks, his body now facing you as your memory fades away to a new one standing infront of you currently. the look of his face, like he didn’t expect you to be at your own groups party, what a fucking idiot. before he could walk towards you, you grabbed your drink and stormed past him, ignoring the ringing affect his call of your name had to your ears. you told yourself, that where ever he was, you weren’t going to be, never, ever again.

you left the house in nothing but a thin jacket, you walked until your legs gave up on you. once you sat down, not knowing where you were or where your legs were walking you to, you looked up at the dark sky. the lights of the stars twinkling above you, giving you some comfort of the unbearable memories you had. you wished you could just deleted everything, every moment you had that with sick man. but it stays with you, like a parasite eating away at your skin.

you sniffled as you calmed down, whipped out your phone to dial someone, anyone to come get you and to be in the comfort of someone’s arms. you scrolled and scrolled, hoping to see someone’s name that warmed your heart at the sight of it. your eyes scoped around your contacts, hoping for anyone’s name to pop up.

Park Jimin. you quickly dialed his number, knowing he would pick up in a heart beat, like he always did for you.

“are you sure you’ll be okay on the couch? my bed is just as comfortable, even more at that,” he spoke as softly as you remembered, he tucked you into the couch and making sure you were comfortable enough to sleep away your puffy eyes.

“i’ll be okay out here, Jimin, i promise,” Jimin was the only other member, besides Hoseok, who knew about you and Jungkook. he allowed you to come over time to time when ever you and Jungkook would have problems, problems that were always better than what Jaehyun ever put you through. you believe that why you always went back to him, back to the comfort of his aura because he truly loved you. he loved every bit of you, but he couldn’t handle every bit of you.

Jungkook would never, you thought as you rolled over, facing the back of the couch as Jimin accepted the fact you chose the couch over his bed and went upstairs to get some sleep for himself. Jungkook had his angry issues, but he would never show abusive tendencies towards you, no matter how mad he was. he never raised a hand towards your way, he never laid a finger on you. it took you awhile to trust him, but that trust never once left even after you left him multiple times. but, to never bring up the memories that made you feel like a burden, you never once mentioned your past relationship, no matter how many times Jungkook would beg to talk about your exes.

“you should start writing in your journal again, _____” Jimin spoke over his shoulder, his hands working on making your eggs the way you loved them, “i know that helped you at times like this, even if i don’t know what actually happened for you to end up 10 minutes away from my place,”

“it’s better not to talk about it, for my sake,” he nodded in agreement, letting you know he won’t budge any information out of you since he knows the way you looked when he picked you up from the random street you sat at. you always wanted to tell him about your past, what changed you into the mess you are now and why you can’t seem to stay stable at any current time of the year. just because it happened years ago, doesn’t mean it doesn’t affect you to talk about it, even if you trusted someone with your life, “you know what? that might be a good idea,” you spoke up after the minute of slience between you both.

you’ll write about everything bothering you, maybe you’ll be able to pick at the pieces broken inside of you to figure out how to handle all of your problems with Jungkook, but mainly yourself. you always need to put yourself first, your therapist would tell you, no matter how badly the other person is struggling, and you stood by that.

you never wanted to leave Jungkook, you never wanted him to feel like he wasn’t good enough for you love. you wanted him to feel like he was on the top of the world with you, to make him feel important and loved the way he should. what he doesn’t know, is that he was the reason you wanted to get better. he always told you, that you deserved everything heading towards you that was good. if the good was getting better and becoming healthy, hell yeah, you deserved that shit like it was a grammy.

so once you got back to the dorms, letting all your members and your worried leader know that you were at a good friends house after the party, you headed to your room with a fresh new notebook, ready to jot down all your feelings and thoughts that you let eat you alive everyday.

to my past, fuck you, sincerely. you deserve nothing, you don’t deserve to take over my life. i will get rid of you, i will get better, i deserve to be happy, i deserve to become a butterfly instead of moth. moths are pretty, but trust, i will be a beautiful monarch.

cheesy, you know that, but it’s true. so true that you continue to write until your hand cramps around your pen. you will get better, it just takes time, but time definitely does not heal everything.

a/n: i low-key hate writing angst, but here we are! this is a reminder that you are not alone if you’ve ever went through abuse or trauma with abuse, you will always have people out there for you and you have help too. there are hotlines on top of hotlines, please don’t be afraid to speak up about it, no matter what. i love you all, and never feel like you can’t reach out to talk to me, dm me about anything! you are all worthy and beautiful and deserve the best🩷. here are some hotlines: 1, 2, 3

taglist: @loumin908 @heartjiminie @cuntessaiii @parkinglot-nights @minsoa97kor @jkgirlfr @lavendersugarplum @gaebestie @whoa-jo @kp0pficdump @yunholuv @skzthinker @shwkoqp18 @veemegatron @joonsproperty @jk97bam @dna-black-and-blue

COMMENT TO BE ON TAGLIST!

#hyukaslvr #writers on tumblr #kpop fyp #jungkook fluff #jungkook x you #jungkook angst #jungkook imagine #jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic #i love jungkook #jeon jungkook #bts jungkook #jungkook #jungkook bts #bts x you #bts x reader #bts jungguk #bts smut #bts army #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts #kpop writers #kpop fluff #kpop imagines #kpop fanfics #kpop fanfic

[elliespassagerprincess]

can we get more abuser ellie headcannons/drabbles :)

Headcannons: toxic!ellie williams x reader

Hi anon! I just wanted to say a few things before I start. This not your fault and I’m not mad at you for requesting this. Thank you for your request and I hope you like what I have done<3

Before we start I would like to say a couple of things. I am in no way, shape or form trying to romanticize abuse. Abusive relationships and situations are traumatic to those who have experienced it. In my therefore you and me series I did write about abuse and I tried not to romanticize it. That is why I killed Ellie’s character at the end because of she had done. So once again, let’s not romanticize this, because people lose their lives daily because of it. I deeply apologize to those who I have hurt and triggered in my series. I do want to disappoint whoever requested this so I changed it into toxic!Ellie x reader with a not so toxic ending.

☆ Toxic Ellie who met you in a bar one night and immediately fell head over heels for you.

☆ Toxic Ellie who stomach churned every time she saw you interacting with your friends. ‘

☆ Toxic Ellie who started taking your phone while you were asleep to check if you were cheating.

☆ Toxic Ellie who started following you to work every morning to make sure you weren’t talking to any other girl.

☆ Toxic Ellie who would lose her shit when she saw you smile with someone else.

☆ Toxic Ellie who makes multiple accounts on social media to threaten your coworkers and friends.

☆ Toxic Ellie who comforts you as you cried because none of your friends wanted to talk to you anymore.

☆ Toxic Ellie who gets a job directly across the café where you work so watch you.

☆ Toxic Ellie who starts arguments with you because she doesn’t like when you talk to other people.

“just fucking leave me already” she yelled.

“Ellie why are you yelling? She literally just helped me carry my groceries”

“don’t fucking lie, if I didn’t show up, you would’ve fucked her”

☆ Toxic Ellie who cuts up your clothing when you have to go out, and then you have to stay home with her.

☆ Toxic Ellie who gets emotional when you don’t respond to her within one minute

“you’re probably fucking someone else”

☆ Toxic Ellie who threatens you if you try to leave.

“you’re a bad person” you spoke through tears

“I swear if you leave me I’ll kill anyone who comes near you”

☆ Toxic Ellie who hacks your social medias and reads your DM’s because she’s scared you might find someone else.

☆ Toxic Ellie who starts going to therapy because you threatened her with a restraining order.

☆ Toxic Ellie who talks about her childhood and how much she hated her parents.

☆ Toxic Ellie who realizes that she has attachment issues.

☆ Toxic Ellie who realizes her behavior was bad.

☆ Toxic Ellie who shows up to your apartment sobbing and apologizing.

☆ Toxic Ellie who goes to therapy twice a week, and learns ways to deal with her issues.

☆ Not so toxic Ellie who forgives her parents and moves on.

☆ Not so toxic Ellie who finally moves on from her trauma.

☆ Not so toxic Ellie finally living a happy and normal life with you.

☆ Not so toxic Ellie who finally gets a happy ending.

#ellie williams #ellie tlou #ellie the last of us #ellie tlou x reader #ellie tlou2 x reader #ellie williams blurb #ellie williams drabble #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie williams imagine #ellie x reader #dark elli william #dark! ellie williams #ellie miller #ellie tlou2 #ellie williams angst #ellie williams fan fic #ellie williams fic #ellie williams hcs #ellie williams headcanons #ellie williams one shot #ellie williams oneshot #ellie williams promlt #ellie williams smut #ellie williams the last of us #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams tlou2 #ellie williams x fem reader #ellie williams x female reader

[the-dawn-star]

Dabi x Reader request; Dabi gets hit by a quirk. Quirk is that he has to tell the truth. And as he and reader are in an argument, reader goes "Why do you care so fucking much?" And that pisses off Dabi, and he blurts out something along the lines of "I fucking love you - That's why!" <33

Fluff/angst + smut if you're comfortable <33

A/N: Hey! I'm not sure how good this is but I hope you enjoy it!

-S

+700ish words.

The best way to describe you and Dabi’s relationship is distant. He might leave for weeks only to show up at your front door after you text him once. But it was fine, you had been friends for long enough for you to get used to his behavior. He was your friend and you had ultimately been there for each other as long as you can remember.  

You hadn’t seen Dabi in a few days, you had had a cute sleepover and when you woke up the next morning Dabi was gone. You should have been used to it, you shouldn’t have shed tears because of him.  

~~~ 

 Dabi had loved you ever since he first saw you. You were so kind to him even if he looked like that and was generally unapproachable to everyone he came into contact with. The sleepover really had fucked him up. You had looked so sweet sleeping, not having a worry in sight. He truly didn’t deserve you... 

But now Dabi was walking to your house. He wasn’t sure what had happened. He had been walking around with Toga and Twice when a quirk had hit him. The person had run away too quickly to anyone to ask what Dabi had been just hit with. But he felt fine..., a bit tired and somehow very, very needy for your company.  

~~~ 

The knock made you jump out of your couch.  

Who could that be? 

When you opened the door your first reaction was to shut it straight to Dabi’s face. But he kind of looked like he was ready to pass out of exhaustion.  

“What are you doing here?”  

Dabi’s eyes widened as he raised his head enough to see you, standing there looking like an angel brought down by heavens only to him.  

“Why- you are really pretty...” Dabi’s words were mumbled together, and you could see a light blush on his cheeks.  

That truly caught you off guard. “Thank you..., I have a date...”  

“What?! You can’t leave!” The words came out faster than Dabi could stop them.  

  “You leave me like multiple times a month, I don’t see how me having a date, excuses that king of reaction.” You weren’t really in a hurry just yet, but this really wasn’t going to help you pre-date anxiety.   

“That’s not the same thing!”  

“And how isn’t it?”  

“Because I don’t go on dates with anyone!” Dabi didn’t know why he was saying these things. He had tried so hard to build this ‘not bothered by anything’ attitude and now he was breaking all the rules that he had made for himself. You broke. You had tried to understand how Dabi was never going to be a permanent part of your life. You had tried to move on and accept it, not bond with him too much so that when he decided to leave once again you wouldn’t get hurt too badly. But now... But now he was stating very clearly that he can leave but you, you had to stay exactly where you were.  

“Then why do you care so fucking much?!” You yelled tears in your eyes, before you could stop yourself.  

“Because I love you!” 

The world stopped for a second. Time stopped for the both of you, for very different reasons. For Dabi, the world stopped because he had said a truth that he hadn’t even said to himself. And for you, the world stopped because you could have expected anything else but that.  

“What?” Your voice was almost silent.  

“I- I- I don’t know..., I didn’t mean to say that...” You could see the confusion off of his face.  

“So, it’s not true?” You asked, starting to be just as confused as Dabi himself.  

“No! I- I-...” Dabi couldn’t get the words out. He didn’t know what was happening. He didn’t mean to say that and now he wasn’t sure if he could say anything to fix it. So, he gave up on words. He took a few steps closer to you until you were almost touching each other.  

Dabi waited a second waiting for you to take a step back, kick him out of your home, go to your date without saying anything else to him ever again... But you didn’t, you didn’t take a step back.  

And then his lips were on yours. His hands on your body, his warmth everywhere...

#dabi my hero academia #dabi mha #mha dabi #dabi todoroki #bnha dabi #dabi #dabi x reader #touya todoroki #todoroki toya #todoroki touya #todoroki toya x reader #my hero academia #boku no academia #x reader