𝐆𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐊

genre: fluff, established relationship

word count: 1.6k

a/n: felt like writing something fluffy again 🤍 this being written on the same night as my previous smut fic is lowkey diabolical but well 🤭

masterlist

LEE HEESEUNG

You set your phone on a makeshift camera-holder made from books and candles, then press record and shuffle back to your boyfriend. 

“Okay, close your eyes,” you instruct him and smile when he obliges, additionally turning his head to the side, looking straight into the camera as you apply the first chapstick from your little stack. After a couple seconds, you call out to him again, “You can open them now!”

His eyes instantly drop to your lips, the subtle glow of the chapstick already making him impatient to kiss you. 

“You can go n-”

Your words are rudely interrupted by his greedy lips. They move with yours, starting with a simple peck, then going a little deeper, to taste you better. The sweetness is a little too much for him but he’s having too much fun teasing you this way to pull away right away. 

But once he finally does, he’s met with your expecting eyes.

“Watermelon,” he guesses.

You nod your head with a wide smile. “Yeah!” 

A small grimace makes its way on his face. “I fucking hated this one.”

“Yeah, I’m not the biggest fan either. Now, turn around.”

You wipe off the chapstick before carefully applying another one. Your fingers barely touch Heeseung’s shoulder to catch his attention, when his mouth is already latching onto yours. 

He savors the taste of your lips, slowly and sensually and you feel more lightheaded with every next second. He captures your bottom lip, sucking on it repeatedly until you can’t breathe anymore. Suddenly reminding yourself of your surroundings, you pull away abruptly, ignoring your boyfriend’s cocky smirk.

Cleaning your throat, you fix your hair. “Great. Now I can’t post it anywhere.”

Heeseung grins at your pout, hand reaching up to pinch at your cheek teasingly. 

“It was coconut, by the way,” he answers your question before you even get the chance to ask it, and damn, he’s right again.

PARK JAY

Jay watches as a grin spreads onto your lips. 

“I picked that one just for you,” you say sweetly, shuffling closer on the bed until your knees touch. “C’mon, give it a try.”

He snickers slightly when you close your eyes and obnoxiously pucker your lips, waiting for him to make a move. Leaning forward, he gently cradles your cheek in his hand before pressing the softest of kisses on your lips. You let him suck on your lips for a moment before he pulls away first and flicks your nose.

“Oh, that’s honey.”

You nod with enthusiasm, pretending as if his kiss hasn’t flipped your insides out. “Yeah. Good guess!”

He closes his eyes, his hand blindly reaching out for yours to rub circles on your soft skin as you apply the next chapstick. You smack your lips together to even out the product, then move closer to your boyfriend again. 

His pretty eyes find yours again and he closes the space between you two, pressing your lips together lovingly. Your fingers clench on his t-shirt, and you tilt your face to the side to deepen the kiss slightly. But, fuck, you just can’t help yourself. 

It’s Jay who has to pull away again with a small giggle, thumb wiping away the smudged chapstick from under your bottom lip. 

He licks his lips, tasting the waxy residue you’ve left from your kiss. Then he thinks for a second. “... Peach?” 

You nod with a satisfied hum. “One more?” 

This time you’re not gonna fuck around. You pick the most bizarre chapstick flavor in front of your eyes, then call Jay over to you, waiting for him with a soft smile on your lips.

“This one’s a little more difficult.”

Jay grunts then kisses your pink, now slightly swollen lips. A content sigh escapes your lips at his tender touch, shivering when the cool ring on his finger brushes over the skin on your thigh. The kiss lasts a little longer than the two previous ones but Jay breaks it after stealing all of your breath away.

“I think it’s like… pear,” he guesses, a little unsurely this time but this expression melts away when your face lightens up again. 

“Yeah! Holy shit, babe, how are you so good at this?”

SIM JAKE

He didn’t even need a second to think to agree to your game. Now, with you sitting across from him on the living room floor, he presses your lips together to try the first chapstick.

What he never expected was for you to taste so damn good, so with a low hum in his throat, he pulls you closer to him by your neck and takes in all the sweetness of you. His other hand lands right under your jaw, gentle fingers tilting your face up for a better access to your lips.

After another second or two or five, you drag your face away from his and wait for your boyfriend’s guess. 

Jake licks his lips and tries his best to look as if he actually has a clue in what he’s doing. It’s not like he completely got fucking lost in your lips – not at all, what a stupid thought.

And so he shoots blankly. “Okay, this gotta be like… tangerine.”

You look at him ridiculously. “What, no! That was vanilla.”

“Oh… Yeah, you’re right,” he clears his throat, hand running through his soft hair. “Gimme the next one.”

You roll your eyes and throw a blanket across his face, knowing well his tendencies to cheating. You take one of your makeup wipes and clean your lips, eyes searching for some easy flavor. Once you’re done picking, you take the blanket off Jake’s face and get on your knees in front of him.

Deciding on helping him out a little bit and not letting him get distracted again, you place a simple peck on his mouth, long enough for him to actually get a taste of your chapstick. 

Jake presses his lips together as he thinks for a moment. “Is it apricot?”

Your jaw slacks in disbelief. “Oh, be so for real right now! That was like the easiest guess of them all!”

“Well, what was it?” He scrunches his nose.

“Strawberry! Fuck you mean apricot?”

Jake can’t help but giggle at how aggravated you’re getting with this game. “Sorry, sorry. One last try! I promise I’ll get this one.” He places his palm over his heart.

“Fine.”

You repeat the procedure, then go in for a peck again, not wanting to risk losing your boyfriend again. 

“And?” You ask, a hopeful glimmer in your eyes.

“Cherry.”

You let out a heavy sigh. “That was rose.”

Jake snickers, finally grabbing your waist to drag you all over the way to his lap. “Should’ve guessed that. You tasted like a granny, felt like I was kissing a seventy year old.”

“Hey!”

PARK SUNGHOON

Even expecting him to actually take you seriously was your first mistake. 

But your lips are so pink and so glossy - you can’t blame him, really. It’s like you’re begging to be kissed over and over again.

And so now, sitting next to you on the couch, he has your soft hand covering his eyes to prevent him from cheating. You apply the mango chapstick generously onto your lips and return your boyfriend’s vision a moment later.

You turn your face to his unimpressed one, an adorably excited smile spread on your lips and making his own twitch up a little. 

“You ready?” You chirp, hiding the chapstick behind your back. 

He motions for you to move closer, spreading his legs to make you more place in between them. “C’mere, baby.”

With a roll of your eyes, you still oblige and settle between his thighs, wrapping your arms around his neck. Not wasting any more time, Sunghoon ducks down and captures your lips with his. The kiss is deep and takes all of your breath away when his tongue slides over your bottom lip lewdly. 

His kiss is way too intense for the silly game you had in mind in the first place, so before he can go even further, you pull away from him, cupping his chin in your hand.

“So?” 

Sunghoon shrugs, eyes hungry for more. “Dunno. Lemme have another go.”

“Hey!” You pout, puckering your lips and giving him a perfect opportunity to press another kiss to them. And so he does, surging forward and molding your mouths together again. 

He sucks on your lip like a hungry man, his caresses sloppy and without a care in the world for your game anymore. His body aches for you, for more, so he opens your mouth by tugging your chin down gently with his warm fingers, then slipping his tongue inside your mouth. 

“My god, Hoon-” You push on his chest gently, trying to pry the visibly touch-starved man away from your lips. “Wait, let me try another one.”

Sunghoon dismisses your protests and presses another kiss to your lips. “Nah, I like that one.”

“But that’s the first one I tried on!” You whine, slowly surrendering yourself to your stubborn boyfriend.

“Well, then it obviously was the best pick.”

Sunghoon’s arm slides down to wrap around your waist firmly before falling backwards on the couch and pulling you onto his chest as he goes down. He chuckles in your lips at your annoyed grunt, his fingers cradling your cheek as he deepens the kiss. As much as you want to tell yourself you’ll never play this fucking game with him again, you know it would be a blatant lie after all.

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"Would you like a seat?" Gerry asks over his shoulder as Sam follows him deeper into the apartment. "Only if it isn't a bother," Sam says despite the throbbing in his hip. "Oh, it's no problem at all. Let me just--" The young goth rushes ahead into some sort of studio, clearly expecting Sam to follow. Every spot in the room is either occupied with a painting, or painted on, or splattered, or filled with utensils, tools, and other stuff that is necessary for art. Gerry sweeps a pile of pencil sketches from a chair and offers it to Sam, who sits gratefully, eyes still wandering over the atelier in overwhelmed amazement. "I can make some tea?" Gerry offers. "Oh," Sam says with an awkward smile. "I'm more one for coffee." "Do you mind if I make one for myself, then?" "No, go ahead." The sounds of an electric kettle being filled and switched on reaches Sam, whose eyes fall onto the sketches. He leans a bit closer to get a better look. It's not very polite, to go snooping into the drawings of a potential friend, but he can't help himself. He's always been so damn curious. The first sketch shows a short, thin man with dark hair that is starting to go grey despite his young but tired face. His brown skin is covered in scars and his eyes are glowing. Sam blinks, and for a second he feels like the drawing blinks back at him. He quickly moves the sketch to the bottom of the stack and shakes his head. It's the sleep deprivation. He's not starting to see movement in traditional sketches. The next few sketches show the same man, over and over again, eyes blazing, mouth set in a thin line, exhaustion weighing down a face that could once have been called handsome. He's not the only one, though. There's a second man, tall and broad, with red hair and a dusting of freckles on his nose and cheeks. He's barely recognisable in the fog that surrounds him that gets thicker with every new sketch Sam discovers. The last one is that of a man who wouldn't have looked out of place in Pride and Prejudice (as written by Cassandra Austen), with a neatly pressed collar and a cravat, as well as jewellery in the form of eyes. His grey eyes are intense, piercing Sam through the page. Sam is about to put the sketches back when a piece of paper slips, and his heart stops. The woman on the paper is a detailed pencil drawing of Celia. It's almost scary how perfect that sketch catches her likeness. Surely Gerry would have needed more than one look at her to draw her so realistically? Sam fights the wave of jealousy that wants to overtake him. It's none of his business who Celia meets in her free time. There is only that one sketch of her, and as Sam finds the last page, he's a bit disappointed to discover that there is just two sentences scribbled in nearly illegible handwriting.

The maze is sharp on my mind. The angles cut me when I try to think.

They are underlined with so much force that the pencil nearly broke through the paper. In the kitchen, the kettle turns off, and Sam quickly places the pages back in order. "Gerry," he says when his host returns, mug of tea in hand, "who are these people you sketched?" Gerry glances over his shoulder, then shrugs. "Now that you say it...I have no idea. These are from a while ago. Why, did I accidentally draw someone you know?" He says it with a smile, like it's a joke between artists. Did I accidentally draw you? Sam's gaze drifts back over the man with the glowing eyes. "I don't know," he says softly. "I don't know."

hi!! ngl i’ve never actually requested anything so im kinda nervous to do so but if it’s possible, do you think you could write something along the lines of eddie munson with like an anxious reader? maybe she has a panic attack and he’s there to help in the aftermath or just an overall anxious person. i know you’ve written something similar with the marauders so i hope that this is okay for me to request. i love love love ur writing!

Thank you for requesting lovely <3

cw: aftermath of panic attack

Eddie Munson x fem!reader ♡ 642 words

Eddie’s rambling hasn’t stopped since you sat down, but it’s become background noise for you, like ocean sounds or the music they play in grocery stores. You know well enough how to get yourself through this. His hand on your back is a steady, if somewhat frantic, reassurance. 

“You okay?” Eddie asks, his rhythm slowing as you blow out a lungful of air, bending your head towards your knees. You hold up a weak thumbs-up, and it picks up again. “Shit, yeah, you’re okay, baby. You’ve got it.” 

You feel bad that this is Eddie’s first time dealing with you like this, though it’s nice to be in his trailer and not at the mall or in a restaurant or something. His couch is familiarly uncomfortable, lumpy in places and nearly flat in others, and the air smells like weed and grease, the electric fan Wayne brings out for the summer months whirring diligently in the corner. You’re glad Wayne’s not home now, though someone should probably be around to comfort Eddie after he’s done comforting you. 

“Anything I can do to help?” he asks again. “You want some water or something?” 

This time, you nod. Your boyfriend all but springs up from the couch, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge and hustling it back to you like he’s training to be one of the NASCAR pit stop people. You take it from him, rubbing the condensation from the bottle on the back of your neck before taking a sip. The chill is grounding. You rest your head back on your knees.

“You feeling better, sweetheart?” Eddie grabs another water bottle from the fridge once he sees what you did with the first, holding it to your neck. “You seem better. Sounding less like Darth Vader.” 

You laugh a little, and he laughs back nervously. 

“Yeah,” you say, “it’s mostly better now.” 

He blows out a breath. “Phew, okay. Jesus. You’re a fucking champ, you know that?” 

“Thanks,” you chuckle. “Sorry I put you through that.” 

“I’m pretty sure I’m not the one who went through something just now, so consider your apology heard and nullified.” Eddie’s lips come down on the back of your head. “I’d tell you where to shove it, but I’m feeling kind of bad for you right now. Count your blessings.” 

“Oh, I’m counting them.” You smile down into the semi-dark valley between your legs and chest, taking one more deep breath in and out before lifting your head. “Okay, I’m good.” 

“Yeah?” As he pulls back to see you, your boyfriend doesn’t look so sure. His eyebrows are pulled up in the middle, freakishly huge eyes full of freakishly sweet worry. “Good enough for a hug?” 

You hum your assent, and in the next second you’re in his lap. Eddie goes all the way, curving his body over yours as his arms wrap protectively around your back and his cheek squishes into yours. 

“It scares me when you’re scared,” he admits. 

“Sorry.”

“No—goddamnit, what did we say about that? You’re lucky you’re cute, I swear—don’t be sorry. Obviously it’s not your fault, I’m just sorry that happened to you. It seemed really fucking shitty.” 

“It felt really fucking shitty,” you agree. “I’m wiped.” 

“Honestly? Me too.” Eddie chuckles. “Nap?” 

“Yes, please,” you say, but wriggle closer to him, preventing him from getting up. Eddie doesn’t seem to mind. He starts rubbing your back again, contemplative. 

“You wanna sleep here, or on the bed?” 

“Bed,” you answer immediately. 

“...right. But are you gonna get up and go to the bed?” 

You make a thoughtful humming sound, grasping him tighter. “Probably not. Maybe you could carry me?” 

A sigh, long and dramatic. “Yeah, maybe I could.” Eddie’s hands move to grip you more securely, and he grunts as he stands. “You’re seriously lucky you’re cute, trouble.” 

Story request by @thetfer

I had been going through my closet, looking at my clothes. Some of them are fans of my TF blog who wanted to be objects I own. Some of them are unwilling objects just because I decided to TF them for fun. Of course, not all them ended up being written about, but some were.

One day, while checking my DMs, I saw one who followed my blog, who was complaining about my TF activity. Thetfer was upset at what I had been doing. He was downright rude about it, in fact. I really didn't have an issue with turning my fans and followers into objects, but apparently, he did. So I decided to ignore his complaint.

After several weeks, thetfer messages were starting to get on my nerves, and something had to be done about it. I invited him to meet me at a local park to discuss his concerns in person. I assume he would be scared to voice his concerns in person, but he actually came.

Thetfer voiced that I was cruel for what I was doing and even threatened to call the authorities on my activities if I didn't cease. I had no intentions of stopping my TF fun. I remained silent while he talked. What he didn't know was that I have my TF device set up in my car pointing directly at the park bench we were sitting on. With remote in hand, I stood up and stepped a few feet from the bench. I hit the remote button. A ray of light struck him.

I watched as he quickly started shrinking in size. "You complained about my TF activity and that it wasn't fair. Now you get to see first hand why you really shouldn't have complained to me." I told him. He begged and pleaded for me to let him go, but I was too much enjoying the moment. I was looking forward to a fresh pair of insoles.

Finally, the transformation was complete. I picked up the insoles on the bench and brought them home with me. I laid them on the bed so that I could determine which pair of shoes to put them in.

These shoes was a fan that obsessed with me. So I decided if I was his obsession, he would be a perfect pair of shoes. Unfortunately, he wasn't very comfortable to wear, even though I wore him often. My foot odor saturated the insides of the poor loser. I almost felt bad for him, almost. Seeing that thetfer could make this loser more comfortable, I stuffed inside the foul stench.

I tried them on, and oh my goodness, the shoes felt much better to wear thanks to thetfer. I thought about thanking him, but who really gives praises to insoles. It's their job to make our shoes comfortable for us to wear. There was no need to thank it.

Thetfer was hurting painfully as anon-sect crushed him under his feet. He wished he had never gone to meet him or complain so much. He wished the pain was the only bad part, but the shoe he was in smelled so bad that he would have gaged if he had a physical mouth. It was the most foul foot odor he had ever encountered. He mentally pleaded to be set free. Anon-sect continued to keep the shoes on going about his day, not concerned about the well-being of his new insoles.

Thetfer had been insoles for about two weeks, being switched from shoe to shoe, serving anon-sect feet. It was a never-ending torture. No matter which pair of shoes he wore, he was always the insoles inside them. Nothing but daily torture. He thought this existed was hopeless till he heard his boyfriend confronting anon-sect about his whereabouts.

I was upset at seeing thetfer's boyfriend up in my face about his disappearance. Somehow, I thought I had gotten away like I always do. But I knew how to fix the issue. Fortunately for me, I also have a TF phone. I took it out quickly. I put in the setting of a pair of white AND1 socks. Before his boyfriend could figure out what was going on, I snapped the picture. He was gone. In his place was my new pair of socks.

I took off my shoes to speak to my insoles for the first time in a long while. "If you were hoping your boyfriend would rescue you, I am dashing your hopes right now. He is my socks. You really are a lucky pair of insoles. Who knows who you will deliver to me for me to transform them." I laugh as I take off my current socks and put on my new socks. They felt wonderful. "Your boyfriend is on my feet now. At least you will be close to him." I laugh more and put my shoes back on with my special pair of insoles inside them.

Thetfer mentally begged anon-sect for forgiveness and to let both of them go, but with no means to convey this, he saw that he and his boyfriend were stuck this way. It was a horrible existence to live the rest of his life serving his feet. He just wished he would just give him a day or two break instead of being used every day. Unfortunately, he was insoles and had no right to determine how much he was used.

just remembered a wip i had which was jay at uni meeting normal people and desperately trying to act cool and normal whilst internally screaming about being in a whole new place with all new people and not having his gang with him

Im ashamed to say im back on my naruto shit

Hes my son your honor, hes just a little guy

Id die for him

i really don't understand why people who only read YA or people who only watch cartoons made for kids try to tell us that it's actually just as good and deep and thought-provoking as media made for adults like i do know it's because they know it's not and they feel inferior or whatever but it's very funny

// This part of the series is OLD, but I do think that this is one of my fave rewritten scenes since my editing (it’s sort of from Shockwave’s perspective so I’m posting it here). Full chapter is on my AO3. It goes into Megatron and Shockwave later sparring ;) and some sexual tension lol. 

  Shockwave had witnessed many of the gladiator fights, he had even aided in repairing some of the soldiers that had made it out alive. Medics were not so common on this side of the war—no doubt leashed by the Autobots, or many of them remained neutral to the war. That had its benefits considering they helped no matter what symbol remained upon a ‘bots chassis.   However, it was rare for Megatron, himself, these days to take part in them. Yes, he’d grown to fame taking down mechs within the pit, but his days as a gladiator were long gone, now prioritised by leadership. Alas, seeing the spectacle was surely something, and someone always had to run their mouth off, didn’t they? If anything, it would stand for a reminder why Megatron was the one leading, and they weren’t. It also helped some of the soldiers become more eager to serve and fight. Good for morale, Shockwave supposed. Good for a show, too. Entertaining and being charismatic was something Megatron excelled at.     It was easy to see that Megatron was confident. He had learned how to fight in the pits of Kaon, and Shockwave presumed earlier on he learned how to fight elsewhere—although he was not familiar with those intimate facts. He’d seen his prowess on the battlefield, but this was something different. No weapons. Just hand-to-hand combat. It was brutal, primal even, Shockwave considered. And yet, even he found himself unable to turn his optic away.   Easily things could turn for the worst. He had seen soldiers who were winning suddenly die. He had seen how the crowd egged their fighters on, and how that fuelled the fighters adrenaline even more. It was contagious, in a sense, or at least to most of the ‘bots it was. Shockwave was not like most Cybertronians. He had found some of it outright barbaric. But when Megatron was involved? Everything changed. There was no doubt that he had a presence in the ring.    Today was an interesting case. Someone had the cogs to challenge Megatron. A grave mistake in Shockwave’s optic. There were little who could best the Decepticon warlord. There was a reason why he’d earned his place in these pits, and why no one questioned his strength. But some cocky, young Decepticon thought it was a bright idea, and it had the crowd roaring for more. How could Megatron deny them what they wanted?   The crowd fell to a hushed whisper when Megatron raised his hand, standing from his seat at the top of the arena. “You do realise that this could mean your death, soldier,” he said, his optics watching the other eager mech in the ring.   On the floor, a few cyber-metres away, there was the other opponent, unconscious. The pseudo medics took him and dragged him from the pit. Megatron took a few more steps, moving closer to the soldier. Blood was covering his face, and he was covered in sweat and grime from the arena. Dust, metal scraps, and anything else that remained. There was no organic material on Cybertron, but the floor was still covered in filth.   “Is our mighty leader scared?” asked the boisterous Decepticon. The crowd grew rowdy, cheering Megatron on to join the fight. Others were quiet, awkward and anxious, perhaps even scared that they would earn their own death for even considering Megatron be scared.   The mech spat oil onto the floor from his mouth before looking back up, as if to prove a point.   “Megatron, I don’t advise this. He is not worth your time,” Starscream said, placing his hand onto Megatron’s shoulder. It was shrugged off. He scowled, his optics rolling as he folded his arms. “Fine, if you wish to waste your energon on him.”   Megatron smirked. “Starscream, for that, you will join me in the pit after I show this mech what a real gladiator is.” It was easy to see Starscream stiffen, but Megatron continued down the steps, reaching the arena’s ground. The Decepticons before him moved from his path, parting like a wave for him to come through.   “Is he insane?” Starscream huffed, looking at his fellow officers for support. He was given none, so unsatisfied, he sat himself back down, huffing. Megatron wasn’t being serious when he suggested them fight, was he? He would not be made a mockery in this despicable ‘sport’. It was a waste of energon! And a waste of their soldiers. How could no one else see that?   Approaching the middle of the ring, Megatron gripped the chain around his neck. “You forget yourself, soldier. I learnt how to fight in the pits of Kaon themselves. You think you can best me?”   Shockwave felt an antennae twitch as Megatron spoke, taking that symbol around his neck. The Decepticon mark that they all wore on their armour somewhere, wrapped around his neck on a chain.   The shorter mech readied his shoulders. “You’re all bark and no bite,” he hissed. He then saw the red optics darken. It only made him more ready. He was pumped for the fight. He wanted to show all the other Decepticons that he was just as strong and powerful as their leader was. A foolish thought.   Cracking his neck, Megatron smirked, readying himself. “Sound the bell.” Immediately, the bell in the arena chimed, the crowd getting steady. “Today, Decepticons, you will remember your place. Beneath your leader!” he roared, the crowd getting rowdy now. Fists went in the air, and he grinned, his fangs showing to the other mech. It had been such a long time since he’d exercised his skills. He was looking forward to his.   The young mech, who was already weakened from his fight before, came hurtling his way, and he dodged him with ease, taking the back of his collar and forcing him to the ground. He stamped a heavy pede onto him, the mech growling and trying to get it off. “Is that it? You call yourself a Decepticon soldier!? Don’t make me laugh.”   The mech hissed, clawing at Megatron’s leg. “Get off me!”   “You’ve had enough? Already?” Megatron teased, the crowd laughing. He’d barely even got a chance to break a sweat. He lifted his pede, but he then stomped it back down, hitting the mech on the neck and breaking it. He screamed and gurgled, blood coming from the back of his throat and bubbling down his lips.   “Th-that’s… n-nnnnot a fair f-fffight!” the fallen mech gurgled, coughing on his own blood. He heaved, and crowd went silent once more.   “Oh, it wasn’t?” whispered Megatron, looking back up. He motioned for the medics to take him away. “So, you want a fair fight, do you?” he asked the crowd. “Well, who do you think could best me? Who do you think could at least hit me!?” he laughed. The crowd roared with different names from the Decepticons, some of them volunteering themselves or their friends.   “Oh, that’s right,” he jeered, turning to the Seeker in the stands. “Starscream, I believe you owe me a challenge, and this crowd the right to see your oil spilled.”   Starscream stiffened, his wings twitching. No! He couldn’t be serious! He looked to the cheering crowd. He would not be humiliated in front of his fellow peers. But what choice did he have? The crowd was already calling out for him to join. This was barbaric! A sport for animals, not Cybertronians!   He seethed to himself, knowing that no one would help him out of this. He had been victim to Megatron’s wrath already, but he would not stand to be humiliated before so many of his followers.   Fine, he would fight, and he would win! He stood, keeping his chin high. “Does this mean that the Mighty Megatron actually admits I can best him?” he laughed. He then soon growled, “It’s about time.”   Stepping down to the ring, he disarmed his weapons, knowing this was hand-to-hand-combat only. He placed them into Skywarp’s care, who was sitting down in the bottom row. He knew he wouldn’t do anything stupid with them.   “Today is a special day, my fellow Decepticons,” Megatron announced. “Today, you will see that it is not only soldiers who need to be put back in their place, but your precious commanders, too.” The crowd roared with excitement now. They loved a fight, especially when it was someone higher than them getting beat down.   He smirked, looking back to his second-in-command. “Starscream,” he nodded, “are you ready?” He was going to enjoy beating the absolute pulp out of this mech. Sure, he could do it any time he wanted to, but with everyone else watching? This was just too precious.   “I was born ready!” hissed the Seeker. He placed his hands out, his pedes planting to the ground. He wasn’t a fighter in the pits of Kaon, but that meant nothing! He could beat Megatron. Hell, he was giving him the best opportunity right now, wasn’t he? To give him everything he’d ever wanted. And if he won, he’d own this crowd—quite literally.   How confident Starscream was, Shockwave noted. Soundwave was beside him, silent as ever, and Thundercracker was on the other side, shaking his head.   “Idiot. He’s never going to win,” the Seeker muttered. “I don’t know why he even tries.”   At least one of the Seeker’s had sense and reason. Shockwave had already noted that Thundercracker had more reason than the others, he was also far more calmer. But there was a sense of satisfaction that went through Shockwave’s circuits, knowing how much of a mistake Starscream was making. He stood no chance.

KEEP READING 

There's a lot to be said about people who see positive blanket statement posts about emotions and human experiences and saying "not EVERYONE can feel love of any kind, not EVERYONE can care about others, not EVERYONE can experience empathy OR sympathy, not EVERYONE can xyz " but one thing I never hear people say is: yeah that's why it's a disorder

There's a big difference between advocating for "hey, not everyone can feel some sort of sympathy for others and that doesn't make them a bad person" and then seeing posts about how amazing it is that humanity has gotten where it is because of our ability to care for others and connect with each other on our issues and help each other through things and taking that as an attack on people who do not experiencing these things

Because yes. That's why it's considered a disorder. People are not bad for having disorders! There is no reason to stigmatize ANY of them. But it is a disorder. It is something different from the normal average settings of the human brain. If it wasn't, these people wouldn't have a disorder!

So when people say something like "caring for others is a deeply human experience" it doesn't (inherently) mean "if you don't care for others, you're not human". It means humans were meant to care. And if you don't? You're not a bad person. But it's why you have a disorder. The way you feel or don't feel or act or refuse to act is not intended

I'm not sure I'm wording this right but like. If you don't experience a unifying human experience because of a disorder: that's why it's considered a disorder. You're not less human than other people, and you're worthy of respect. But there's no reason to get offended at people talking about it. "Don't call this normal thing normal because I'm different!" Yes that's why it's a disorder. That is why. It's a disorder

As a person with many stigmatized disorders that has left them missing out on normal human experiences: part of having a disorder is acknowledging that you're different. And that's fine. And it can be sad to realize that you've missed out on something so important to others and the history of humanity, and it's not your fault, but you don't need to lash out on other people's celebrations of it

Persona 3 reload should not entice me with those damn shiny bells and whistles!!!

Darling, can I be your favorite? - JJK (18+)

Pairing: Jungkook X Fem!Reader

Theme: PWP, SMUT, Infidelity au

Wordcount: 1.4k+

Summary: Your close friend bagged a hot boyfriend. And that said boyfriend is more interested in you than her.

Warnings: Infidelity, Jungkook cheats on his girlfriend with the reader, mild flirting, make out, protected sex, oral (f. receiving), morally wrong. NSFW!!

Minors are not allowed in this blog!!

A/N: been long since I have written an unhinged smut.

This is the third time you are meeting Jungkook. 

First time was when Nayeon introduced him as they started dating officially. 

You and Nayeon have known each other since you were in diapers. You can’t call her your best friend but she has been there for as long as you can remember. Even though you haven’t shared all of your miseries with her (she hasn’t either), you two have understood that the other one is having a tough time and have been there silently. 

So, it’s not wrong to say that you know her and how good of a human being she is. You guys are alike in more ways than you would like to admit. 

But when she introduced Jungkook as ‘the person she is seeing’, you were shocked to say the least. 

You don’t wanna be a bitch about it but Jungkook deserves better than her. He is everything a woman would want in a man. 

Jeon Jungkook is handsome, has a stable job as a graphics designer, has tattoos and piercings and is incredibly panty-dropping hot. He is respectful, sweet and doesn’t talk loudly. In other words, he is your ideal type of man. 

So, even when you were happy for your friend, you were a little bit jealous too. 

The second time was on Nayeon’s birthday.

She bragged about him all night to whoever decided to show up. You enjoyed the scene staying afar. 

The similarities between these two meets? Well, both of the times things were awkward. 

Especially because yours and Jungkook’s eyes met a lot more times than is socially acceptable. While you have hardly exchanged any words, you just knew things are going to be tense if you ever get to meet one-on-one. 

And that’s what is happening currently. 

“I- uh, hi.” you mutter awkwardly standing at the doorway of your friend’s home. 

“Hi, Y/N” your name rolls out of Jungkook’s tongue, sounding better than ever. The corner of his lips turn upwards into a charming smile and you suddenly feel jealous of Nayeon’s luck, yet again. 

“Is Nayeon home?” You try to take a look inside her apartment. In the meantime you feel Jungkook’s eyes boring into your skull and slowly dipping down, racking your figure.   

You want nothing more than to just hand the kimchi to your friend and run home. 

“No. She got called at work for some emergency. It’s just me.” Jungkook’s voice dips down a little and when you look at him, his eyes are full of mirth. 

“Oh. alright. I was actually visiting my mom and she packed some kimchi for Nayeon. Here.” you extend your hand for him to take the box. 

As he holds the small handle, his fingers overlap yours. You had to gulp once to resist the improper expression that was about to take over your face. 

“Thanks.” Jungkook whispers. 

“Not a big deal. I will take my leave now.” You turn your heels to leave the place only to be stopped by him. 

Jungkook’s hand wraps around your wrist a little too protectively, “why don’t you come in? Nayeon will be back in an hour or so.” 

His doe eyes turn bigger, as if he is pleading you to stay. 

Contemplating for a moment (and liking the way his hand feels on your skin), you voice, “should I?” 

“You know this place better than me.” Jungkook lets his remark sit in the tense air of the apartment. You chuckle at it while transferring the kimchi to Nayeon’s containers. 

“Yeah. I have been here for uncountable times already.” You add lightheartedly. Jungkook’s eyes stay focused on your figure as you work inside your friend’s kitchen so domestically.  

“But now that you have moved in, I will visit less. Don’t worry.” You speak again, finding him way too quiet. 

“What? No. I didn’t move in.” he chuckles, “We were just hanging out since it's the weekend but she got called.” 

“Oh. That’s bad.” 

“But I’m glad. Glad that you came.” again. Again that mischievous raspy voice that sends sparks through your body. 

You look up at Jungkook, finding him staring at you with a serious and somewhat dark expression. Not knowing what to do, you smile at him. 

“So.. are you seeing anyone currently?” He speaks with the same raspy voice. 

“Uh- no. not at this moment.” You reply, keeping the box of kimchi in the refrigerator. 

“That’s such a waste.” he says, taking tentative steps towards you. Eyes focusing on yours. 

“Waste? Of what?” you try to sound normal but your heart starts beating fast when Jungkook reaches close to you, gradually backing you up against the fridge. 

“Of this beautiful face. This- ” his eyes drop on your chest, “alluring body of yours.” 

“Jungkook-” 

“Honestly, I couldn’t take my eyes off you since the first day we met. I know it’s not morally right but I am a man after all. I DMed you on insta but you haven’t responded yet.” 

“Oh, I- I didn’t notice.” what the fuck! He dmmed you on insta??

“I was about to ghost your friend right after she introduced me to her friends but I stayed… because of you.” Jungkook’s mouth hovers right above your ear. His chest, now, touching yours. 

You lose your mind. All the sense of morals and rationals leave through the window of wants and needs. 

Your throat gets dry but you talk anyway, “why is that?” 

“Because I want you to be my favorite.” and then his lips are crashing into yours. You dive down into the feeling forgetting that you are making out with your friend’s boyfriend. 

“Fuck! How do you taste so good?” Jungkook moans into your cunt as he laps up every drop of arousal. 

“Jungko-” You groan in pleasure, finding it hard to keep your eyes open anymore. Your orgasm is only one step away. 

Jungkook presses the fat of his tongue on your clit as he forks two of his fingers inside your hole. Pressing down on one particular spot, he reaps out your orgasm from you. 

You let out a scream. 

“Shhh, baby. Do you want the neighbors to hear us even when the owner of the house is absent?” he teases you. 

But you are too gone to react to that.  

Jungkook sits on his knees on the bed, unbuckles his belt, pulls down his jeans and boxers at once and reveals his rock hard length. 

He pumps it twice using the lubrication of his spit before reaching for his discarded pants and fishing out a condom from it. 

When he is done with wrapping up his cock, he positions it on your already fucked out hole. 

“Can I enter?” he asks politely. 

Even though you know you will be overstimulated, you are greedy to have your friend’s hot boyfriend inside of you. So you nod a yes. 

And with that Jungkook enters you. 

He slides in smoothly at once. Giving you a little time to adjust, he starts moving. 

At first his pace is careful and mediocre but then it starts increasing bit by bit. One of Jungkook’s hands reaches for your throat, holding you there, not quite choking just yet. 

His other hand is busy playing with your clit to distract you from the inhumane pace he has adopted already. 

The bed starts creaking violently. Your moans know no bounds. Jungkook ain’t doing better as well. He keeps grunting and sprewling dirty shits in your ear. 

“I knew you would be a dirty slut the moment my eyes landed on you.” He says between the harsh thrusts. 

“Oh-fuc-junkoo-”

“Look at you, going dumb over your friend’s boyfriend’s dick, huh? Such a dirty cocksleeve!” his derogatory words bring out the best possible orgasm you have ever had. And you cum on his cock. 

“F-fuck! You cummed so much, you whore.” Jungkook groans cumming inside the condom himself. 

When you are done coming down from your high, shame comes crawling inside your mind. 

You just slept with your childhood friend’s boyfriend. You should just go and jump off a bridge or something. 

“This… This was completely wrong. We should have not. I - I am just fucking terrible.” You grab your hair out of shame lying naked in your friend’s bed. 

“Don’t worry. I was about to end things with her anyway.” He speaks casually, as if it’s no big deal to commit infidelity. 

Tossing the condom in the trash can (like he wants Nayeon to find out what he did) he says, “Shall we continue? Your place or mine?” 

You know you have fucked up a big time. 

Taglist:

@phenomenalgirl9 @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @chimchimmarie @coffeedepressionsoup @meowstake @vonvi-blog @nochuel @chimmisbae @i-have-no-life-charlie

Sleepwalkin'

written for @steddiemicrofic april prompt ‘fool’ wc: 454 | rated: T | cw: implied sexual content | read on ao3

🛌🛌🛌

Eddie stirs at the sound of shuffling footsteps and gets jolted awake as Steve drops face-first onto the bed.

"Mhmph. Where've you been?"

"Sleepwalkin'."

"Do anything fun?"

"I got into bed with Wayne." He mumbles into the pillow.

"Wait. What?!" Eddie sits up with a crazed grin, suddenly wide awake, "Steve, sweetheart, that's fucking hilarious."

"Yeah, Wayne thought so too," He rolls onto his side to face Eddie," I, on the other hand, am slightly mortified."

"Baby, I'm sorry but that is actually so funny. What did he say when he woke you up?"

"That's the thing! He didn't! So I obviously woke him up when I, y'know crawled into his bed and cuddled up to him-"

"You cuddled him?! Stevie, be careful, that's the most action he's gotten in years, he's gonna fall in love with you!"

"Fuck off," He reaches across to slap Eddie's shoulder, "Anyway, he just left me to sleep! I woke up to him snoring with his arm around me, and I was so fucking confused."

"How long were you there? I woke up earlier and you were gone but I just thought you were in the bathroom or something. Didn’t realise you’d deserted me."

"Probably like half the fucking night. I went back to sleep after I’d woken up because his bed’s comfier than yours. I only came back in because he went to work and I got cold."

"Is a bed warmer all I am to you, Stevie?" Eddie pouted, "I thought you loved me for my wit and charm and dashingly good looks, not because I keep you toasty."

"I love you for many reasons, including how warm you run, but if you don't like it," Steve shrugged, "I guess I'll have to go to Wayne next time I'm cold. I'm sure he'll warm me up."

"Please don't leave me for my Uncle."

"Well, you better give me a good reason to stay then."

"Nobody can go down on you as well as I can."

"Oh really? Might have to let you prove that you’re the best then."

Eddie just smirks as he slides down the bed.

—

Wayne’s just gotten home from work when Eddie clears his throat and nudges Steve in the ribs.

"Stevie. Don’t you have something to say to Wayne?"

"Huh? Oh, right," Steve looks at Wayne as sincerely as he can possibly manage right now, "I’m so sorry, Wayne, but we were fools to think it’d work out between us. I’ll never forget our wonderful night together though."

"Well shucks, son, you’re breakin’ my dang heart here but I guess I just gotta move on," Wayne gives Steve a wink, "You know where to find me if you change ya mind."

Someone nice, Somewhere safe

Angel x Virgin Female Reader

જ⁀➴ Angel x Virgin Male Reader - Someone nice, somewhere safe*

*same story, just your bits and bobbles are changed 

You let it slip to the group you were a virgin, and instead of laughing, Angel grabs you before bed to offer a friendly hand.

.<Warnings/Promises: Angel Dust x Virgin Female!Reader, smut, fingering, lubed to the gods, Angel uses four arms, Valentino is a blind bag of smashed assholes, creampie, oral, the gentlest sex I’ve ever written (probably), an alarming towel>

listen here virgins, if I could craft a perfect first time for you, this is it. Minus the lack of condoms because—it’s hell? Sex workers are tested bi-weekly?? This is still a fantasy??? Just if anything, please take from this the importance of a safe and trusting environment at all times 🙏  

minor dni (shoo! get outta here! Go on, git! 🧹)

You thought everyone would laugh when you said you were a virgin. The group awe’d and said it was cute, which was definitely better than the response you’d gotten in the overworld. But when you said you’d never actually orgasmed before, everyone just looked… sad? The conversation was quickly derailed by Angel launching into a list of wildest orgasm faces he’s seen, Charlie leaving the room entirely.

Continuing with the evening’s theme of surprise, you hadn’t expected Angel to catch up to you when everyone was filing off to bed. His hand gently reached for your wrist, “Hey ya got a sec?”

 For Angel, the epitome of smiling through the pain, you’d give him the remainder of your time in hell if he just asked. Every second, his.“Always!”

“So uh”, he rubbed the back of his neck, “about bein’ a virgin and all that.” Your stomach dropped, was the famous porn star about to embarrass you into a second death?“I think it’s real important that like— knowin’ yourself, and what makes you feel good is like super healthy. I dunno if you are interested in that kinda stuff but,” he was wildly moving his hands round, nervously stumbling over his words, “I’d be happy to help ya out.”

All of the blood rushed to your face.

“Oh fuck!” Angel grabbed your head and tipped it forward, “I would have accepted a simple no, jesus!” With one hand pinching your nose, he led you into his room just down the hall. 

What— what was happening, exactly? At all? In general? With your entire existence?

He kicked the door closed behind him and grabbed a handful of tissues, “Keep your head forward. Everyone who says tilt it back is an idiot.”

His hand was red when he drew it from your face, using his other hand to now hold tissues between his fingers as he pinched your nose shut.

“Is- is my nose bleeding??” Your voice cracked.

“Does that happen often?”

“Never.”

“Well I got to help you with at least one first, right?” Angel laughed, moving his hands away as you took over the task.

Oh, right. The offer. You glanced around the room, small but lived-in. Everything was pink and purple and soft.

“Angel, do you think because you’re a sex worker, you have to help me?” The room fell silent. Angel completely still beside you. You would love someone you could trust to take your virginity, but you would never want to use Angel like so many other people did on a daily basis.

“Ya know— a lot of people get real confused about this.” He sighed, chest heavy with the many misconceptions others had, “What I do for work, what I gotta do to get through the day, has nothin’ to do with who I am as a person.” You turned to look at him, “Why should I limit my experiences because of what other people have done to me?” The words hit you like a truck. You had unintentionally boxed him into his job, in turn into his trauma, summing him up as a warm body and incapable of any depth past that. Just a sex worker.

“No, no I didn’t mean anything like that. I just, I don’t want to ever,” you grabbed two of his hands, “ever take advantage of your kindness.” You squeezed, “or any part of you.”

His frown turned up, “We’re dead, yea, but you still exist. If you want to, you should enjoy every part of your afterlife. And I’d hate you to meet some asshole who’s too rough or doesn’t get ya warmed up first. A bad first time can be really traumatizin’.”

You nodded without actually thinking. Your brain wasn’t really processing meaning, his words were just soft and kind and your nose still stuffed full of tissue.

“Do you wanna?”

You nodded more vigorously, “Did my nose start bleeding again?”

Angel took the tissue away, giving a second to see, “Nope.”

Taking a deep breath, you said, “Okay. Yeah, I want that. Someone nice, somewhere safe.”

“It ain’t quite nice but-,” Angel looked around his room.

“It’s perfect, Angel.”

“Aw fuck, I should clean up,” he hurriedly carried trash from his nightstand, flattening out the comforter and adjusting his pillows. He placed fat nuggets on the floor with a little pat on the head.

Finally, he stood in front of you, two hands on his hips, two gesturing to you.

“Alright baby! Let’s pop some cherries! Undress~” he elongated the word, shimmying his hips a little, “-to your comfort level.” He began to unbutton his blazer, “Bare minimum, take off your pants and underwear, please and thank you. Though I have fucked through underwear…” He was momentarily lost in a memory.

You hadn’t anticipated getting naked in front of a friend tonight. But Angel so effortlessly shed his clothes, peeling off his gloves. Pulling off your pants, you paused.

“Is it weird if I keep my shirt on? Like— do you know who Winnie the Pooh is?”

“Nothin’ weird about bein’ comfortable, pookie.” He pinched your cheek, “I’d offer a modesty blanket but I kinda need to see what I’m doing.” His eyes flitted to the left, “No, wanna. I wanna see.” Angel’s laugh relaxed you, the idea of anyone wanting to see you made you feel a little less—-naked. Still, your hands seemed frozen on your underwear’s edge.

With a hum, he disappeared into the bathroom and returned with a towel. “Go on, lie down. I’ll help ya relax. This is already feeling too medical-like.”

Were you going to need a towel? Were you going to need a towel?? Were you going to need a towel!?

You sat back on his bed, and when he crawled up to meet you, all legs and arms and Angel Dust, you buried your face in your hands.

“Oh hey—,” his voice was so soft, lacking its usual sass, “Wanna just, cuddle and watch stupid shit on my phone?” You groaned, face sinking further down. This would be easier if he wasn’t so sweet. You could at least take a backseat, then.

You shook your head, and felt his hand on your ankle. It snaked up your calf, slipped down your knee and thigh, finding the waistband of your underwear. When you looked up from your hiding place, Angel was a foot from your face. His features lit only by the purple neon signs hanging beside his bed and near the door. He lifted his brows, a question he didn’t need to vocalize. You sank back into the purple and pink pillows, different sizes, different textures, gently enveloping you.

With two hands now, he slide off your underwear. You might die, again. Your heart would give out any second, incapable of handling the moment. You were manually breathing.

He lifted your hips with two hands, a third sliding the towel beneath you before setting you back down.

“Do ya-,” he was rummaging now inside the nightstand drawer, “not play with yourself? Ever?”

“Not really. Not like, there.”

“Whaddya do with all your free time?” His short but enthusiastic laughter forced a smile to your cheeks. Angel slid the drawer shut and came to rest in front of your tightly shut thighs and knees. You heard a cap pop, and found the courage to sit up and see what he was doing.

“What?” He squeezed a clear, thick lubricant onto his right hand, “Nerves can make holes dry like nothin’ else. No fun for no one, trust me. Could start a fuckin’ fire—- and spit ain’t lube!” Angel said it like he spoke from a personal experience.

Ah, the towel. That made sense now.

“Should I do something?”

“Just lie back, baby~,” he opened your knees and followed your face as you settled back down, “Do you like kissin’?”

You’d kiss a trashcan if Angel said it got him hot, so, “Yeah.”

“Good,” One hand touched your cheek, sliding to your chin as he brought your lips to his. You thought you’d melt, his hands so soft on you, lips confident and sure. He used his thumb on your chin to pull down your bottom lip and ask you for entrance. When you opened up to him, his tongue slid into yours as his sticky wet hand finally came into contact between your legs. Two fingers rubbing the lube up and a down your pussy.

You nearly inhaled him with your shock, he giggled into it, “You’re so cute.” You twitched under his hand, “Ooh, and reactive! Daddy likes.”

Stop. Stop talking. I’m going to black out.

His mouth returned to yours, tongue over your tongue, as his fingers just massaged your entrance. No attempt at entering, no prodding, just gentle up and down motions. Slowly, your felt your skin heating beneath his hand, the lubricant somewhat melting with your warmth.

At work, Angel was never the lead. Never the top, and never afforded time to ease anyone open. He had no issues with sleeping with women, it was just usually for money or a shoot. Not his preferred flavor, but he could still get it up. Watching you sigh and twitch under him felt like a treat. Such a sweet response to what so many people made unnecessarily dirty at work. He wasn’t shocked to find his cock twitching, swelling as your breathing hitched with every stroke of his hand. When was the last time he could just… slow down? Be the one in control? Not control like Val, control like—- can I get you a pillow? Is the pacing good? Let’s soften these lights.  Hold my hand, sweetheart.

His head felt a little dizzy. His middle finger pressed now, and with a slow but constant motion entered you. ‘Uncomfortable’ was the best word. Your body tensed around him, but he gently pressed passed your virgin walls. He hummed, “First one down! Atleast,” he paused, “two more to go.”

“Atleast??” You shook your head.

“It’s sex math, trust the professional in the room.” He withdrew the finger and slid it back in, starting a slow pace of long drags from knuckle to fingertip.

It didn’t hurt, to his credit. The excitement of having Angel touching you so intimately made the finger easier to relax into. Angel must have noticed, his finger leaving you. He popped the top again of his lube and pressed in two fingers. This was harder. You whined, his fingertips pushing past the tight entrance of your cunt and settling into the wet warmth behind.

Lying on your back, you stared at the now upside-down photos behind his bed. He looked so happy. Could you join that wall? Was this wall worthy?

“You still good?” He leaned over you, fingers  moving.

You nodded, “Can I have another kiss?”

Ah, you might as well have punched him in the chest. “Of course, darlin’~ Ask and you shall receive.” You liked kissing, genuinely, but were always scared you’d kiss someone too long and end up in an awkward situation having to explain you weren’t wanting sex. But that fear was all gone, you’d broken the code. Get naked first, then kiss.

You smiled into his mouth, and he smiled back, “Whatcha thinkin’ about?”

“I like kissing you.” You leaned up, pressing your lips to his chin. His fingers quickened, and you moaned without warning. You felt your self grip his finger, nervousness slinking away and finally letting you feel aroused.

“Ooh, now we’re gettin’ somewhere,” he leaned back, repeating the same steps and trying to press a third finger into you. His abundance of hands were a blessing, one at your entrance, one on your knee to keep your shaking legs open, and two roaming down the sides of your body. When three fingers finally entered, you could feel the burning stretch of your skin around them. He pushed in, and the skin followed. He pulled out, your sensitive hole pulling too. The hand on your knee came to your crotch, his palm pressing lightly down on your clit. You glanced up to him, his eyes focused as he watched his fingers slowly drag in and out of you. It burned still, but just past that burning was a slippery sensation that made your lap warm with the rush of blood.

He let his fingers sink in entirely, before bending and feeling inside you. Your knee jumped when he hit something.

“Bingo! Say hello to your g-spot.” He beamed down at you, gold tooth shining, “Not everyone needs it to cum but oooh boooy does it maximize pleasure,” it sounded so pornographic when he said it.

You weakly copied, “B-bingo.” 

“Three fingers means I can do this now~” he replaced his palm with his fingers,  sticky with lube. His long digits were fast and practiced as he rubbed your clit. “Sex math. Dont need your virgin pussy locking up on me.” He said quietly to himself, fingers in and out of you picking up speed. Your head was pressing into the pillows as your neck strained, you’d never masturbated while someone, something, penetrated you. Every stroke of his fingers made your body spasm, the feeling of something hard and unforgiving pushing back against your quivering walls made a pleasure you couldn’t describe.

“Feelin’ good yet?” The way he said it, he knew damn well how you were feeling.

You whimpered into one of the pillows, “Yeah, it’s starting to feel good.” A weak nod.

Angel’s grin bordered on wicked, hand slowing. He leaned down and placed a kiss on your clit. Then another. His tongue flattened against his bottom lip as he dragged it over your sensitive bud of nerves.

You moaned, a half spoken-half cried, “Oh fuck, Angel-.” Hips bucking up, his fingers kept their place and followed. You humped up against his tongue, ground down into his fingers; up, down. Soft tongue, rigid fingers.

“Like that? Watch this,” He cupped his mouth over your clit and began strumming it with his tongue. Fat and flat, then thin and sharp. His fingers slowed, now just bending to hit your soft g-spot again and again. 

One hand held tightly to the pillow, the other coming to Angel’s hair. Your body kept jumping away from overstimulation but you fought against it every time and tried to grind against his face.

He lifted his mouth off you with a deliberate pop, “Feelin’ good?” You nodded, eyes closed. “Ready for the real thing?”

“Yeah. I want to feel more, Angel.” It came out as more of a whine than you meant.

His hand came to his erection, red and leaking. Stroking himself, he returned to massaging at your entrance, fingers dipping in then out.

“You comfortable with getting on your knees? This position ain’t so conducive for what I’m tryin’ to do.”

Somehow, ass up sounded better than face to face, “You’re the expert.” You rolled onto your stomach, hips up, face resting into the sea of pillows. You paused, lifted off your now sweaty shirt, and got back into position. 

“Sexpert, but thank you!” The lid popped open again, cold and viscous lube being dripped directly onto pussy, “Finally some recognition around here.” He coated himself with what was still on his hands, and raised your hips to line himself up.

“Deep breaths, okay?” He leaned over your back, kisses falling down your skin. Two hands held your hips, one guided himself into you. You tensed when his head began to push in, “Relaaax, just like the fingers.”

A muffled, “okay” from your place in the pile. Your heart was suddenly racing, the tight coil of pleasure his mouth summoned now gone. He wiped his dick up and down your folds, swiping past your entrance. Lining up, he pushed in, getting his head firmly sunk into you.

“Breath, baby,” he moaned into your shoulder. You took a deep breath in, your body tight still. But, it didn’t hurt like you’d thought. It burned, but there was no sting, no tearing. Angel’s hands ran up and down your sides, along you ass and thighs. He gently touched everywhere he could reach, until he felt you soften, “Ready to keep going?”

“Yes please”, you turned your head to look at him.

He pulled out slightly to collect more lube on his shaft, before slowly sinking into you until he bottomed out.

You were gasping, your brain misfiring. You couldn’t feel anything but him, your body just a formless thought with Angel’s warm, solid cock reaching deeper into than you thought possible. One roaming hand reached for your shoulder, “Can I move?”

“Slow,” your hand searched for a loose fold of comforter to grip, but it was soon encased and intertwined by one of his.

He pulled out, and slowly thrust back in. A saccharine moan fell from his mouth, and it made you whimper. 

You were so soft around him, yet gripping him so snuggly he felt like he was melting into your walls. His breath was unsteady, “You feel so good on my cock, baby.” A burning blush took over your face, a rush of pleasure electrifying your clit.

“How ya doin’?” Angel sounded nervous, timid.

You had to collect saliva to get any words out, mouth running dry from panting, “S’good.” You tried again, “So good.” Your fingers tightened around his.

He adjusted his hips, watching you closely. When your eyes closed and your hand nearly broke his, he grinned down, “Bingo~,” his speed began to pick up. 

“Right there,” you whimpered, “please don’t stop, right there Angel.” You dragged out the last syllable of his name. You could feel a pressure building in your lower stomach. 

Angel took languid thrusts out to the tip and pushing back past your still resisting entrance. Every time he pulled out and slipped in felt better than before. The sensations of him opening you around his cock again and again had your stomach and thighs tensing. You brought your hand up to press at your clit, finger frantically moving. You felt something building, you were desperate to reach its climax.

Angel’s hand came down and pushed yours aside, his fingers strong and not shaking with your impending orgasm. 

“Almost- Angel pleeeease! Don’t stop- keep—” You squeezed his hand tighter, his thrusts becoming faster and shallower. His repeated pressing of your g-spot pushed you over the edge, hand slowing only slightly.

"You can do it, baby. Come on. Almost there~" His words fell apart in his mouth, his own moans getting louder, your cunt tightening in spasms as your first orgasm tore through you. Your body was so inviting, warm walls sucking his head deeper. He rarely got to feel this sensation, barely ever chosen as the one doing the fucking, let alone fucking a woman. His head rested against your back, hands running along the curve of your hips as he melted into your sweet heat.

He picked up speed, only drawing out an inch or so now with each thrust. The lube made a pop and squelch every time his skin pulled from yours, the sound making his legs weak.

“Where can I cum?” His breath was raspy, messy with the pleasure of your soft insides rubbing along his shaft. You gripped the blanket, orgasm still rolling from the feeling of Angel chasing his release with your body. You could hear the strain in his voice, “Gonna need an answer real fast, babe.” You hid your face in the pillow mountain again, embarrassed to answer.

“Inside,” you tried to say it loudly enough for him to hear.

He whimpered a, “Fuuuuck” down your spine, “Such a dirty little virgin.” His hips stuttered before he sunk into you with such force your legs gave out. Your body came down flush onto the bed. Angel was pressed into you, chest against your back as his breathing calmed. You could feel his heart through your ribs, his chest fluff silky on your skin. Your body was warm, his hot cum filling you.

Small, lazy kisses on your back, then up your neck, he leaned to kiss your cheek. He slid out of you delicately, but you didn’t move.  His weight left the bed, then returned as a warm, wet cloth wiped you clean. After a couple of minutes of gentle cleaning, you felt the throw blanket cover your back. Angel plopped down on his back beside you, pulling the blanket over his legs and unlocking his phone, “Wanna see this fuckin’ hilarious video of my boss runnin’ into a glass wall?”

You chuckled, “More than anything.” He side eyed you, “Well, not anything.”

“Right answer, toots,”  One of his hands came down and settled on your hair, he leaned in to your head and as you watched Valentino collide head first into a wall, he said softly, “Let me know if you need anything. I got a bitchin’ tub in there.”

You hummed, reaching a shakey hand up and pressing ‘replay’ on his phone. Angel’s laughter echoed off the walls, and you decided you had no plans on leaving bed anytime soon.

༻Masterlist༺

Hii I’d like to request Regina having a crush on reader but reader has a hard time liking her back cause of what was written about reader in the burn book (with a fluff ending??) thank you!

Who Wrote This? (Regina George X Reader)

Masterlist

Request Something!

Summary: Even though all that had happened junior year was forgiven, what was written about you in that wretched burn book still tugged at you mind. It makes it hard for you to warm up to Regina, who just wants to be with you.

A/N: regina wrote mean ass shit in the burn book so a warning for that ig

***

“Regina, if you keep staring at her, she might think you’re crazy.” The lacrosse team giggled as they watched Regina watch you. She was packing her bag after practice when she caught sight of you coming out of the school library.

“Oh, shut up.” She said, not bothering to take her eyes off of you. 

This wasn’t the first time Regina’s friends had caught her looking at you. Ever since sophomore year, after being sat next to you in one of her classes, it was like she couldn’t get you out of her head. No matter how many boyfriends, or more like boy toys, she had, or how many people she slept with. When it was all over, she still thought about you, who was nothing but kind and sweet to her despite her reputation of being an evil Plastic.

“When are you gonna go talk to her?” Dina, one of Regina’s teammates, nudged her arm. “You’re clearly, like, in love with her.”

“I can’t.” She answered, now somber. “I’m pretty sure she completely hates me.”

That wasn’t entirely true, but Regina didn’t know that. From how you acted now, like she repulsed you, it seemed like you despised her. And she knew it was all her fault.

Everyone except for you had gotten over what was written about them in the burn book. The moment you read what had been written about you, what people seemed to think of you, you realized that Regina George was a two-faced mega bitch and would never change. It didn’t matter how nice you were, or how many notes or pens you had let her borrow, or how genuine she seemed around you. She would always think she was above everyone, and the people below were as meaningless and bothersome as gum stuck to the bottom of her shoe.

You knew she was different now, like she had really grown. But you didn’t buy it for a second. So you kept your distance, speeding off or changing seats whenever Regina tried getting close to you. Yet there was a small part of you that was hopeful about the fact that she was better now, that she wasn’t so mean.

After zipping up your bag, you looked up and locked eyes with Regina on the soccer field. Even though she was far away, she could see you clench your jaw before storming off to your car.

She couldn’t do this anymore. No matter how much you tried to avoid her, she needed to talk to you.

***

You loved spending your free period in the library. You were able to catch up on homework or studying without getting distracted. Plus, Regina never came in here.

You heard the door open but didn’t look up from your notebook, where you copied notes from your textbook. Footsteps came near you, but you figured they were going to a seat past you.

But then someone sat down in the chair next to you. You looked up in the confusion, but that soon turned into an expression of annoyance.

“Please,” Regina whispered, grabbing your wrist before you could try to back your things and leave. You glared at her, and she had to force herself not to wince at your harshness. “Please, Y/n, I just wanna talk.”

“Well, I don’t.”

“Just hear me out.” Regina pleaded, trying to stay quiet. She scooted her chair closer to you, and was surprised that you didn’t lean back or scoot away. “Hear me out, and then when I’m done, I’ll leave you alone forever. I promise.” 

It pained her to promise you that, but she figured it was the only way you’d listen to her.

You stared at her momentarily before you sighed and relaxed slightly in your seat.

“Fine.” You said. “But make it quick.”

Regina nodded, trying to get her thoughts together. To be honest, she didn’t really think she’d make it this far.

“I’m sorry.” She started. “Really, really sorry. What I wrote about you in that book, I didn’t mean it, and I regret writing it every day. You were one of the only people in this school that I genuinely liked, and I ruined what little we had because I wrote something stupid.”

“It wasn’t stupid.” You interjected, bitterness in your tone. “It was mean, Regina.” You turned your seat to face her better. She was glad that you were finally looking at her without running away, but hated the look of disdain and hurt on your face. “I think about what you wrote about me every day. It’s practically burned into my brain at this point. ‘Y/n L/n is a skank that no one would touch with a ten-foot pole. That-’”

“‘That nerdy bitch will end up alone.’” Regina finished the quote, her voice meek and cheeks red from embarrassment. “I remember.”

“I’m glad you have such a good memory.” You said sarcastically. “If you wrote that about someone you say you genuinely liked, I wonder what you’d write about your own mother.”

“Y/n…” Regina sighed. This was definitely not going the way she had wanted. But at the same time, she expected this to be a sour interaction. “I didn’t mean what I wrote.”

“Oh really? What, was it just a spur-of-the-moment decision to cut out my school picture and write that?”

“I had to write it, Y/n.” The absurdity of that statement shocked you into silence, so Regina took it as a chance to continue before you told her you didn’t want to hear it. “I put myself in there to frame Cady, Gretchen, and Karen for making the book. But then I remembered that you weren’t in there. I never wanted you in that book, but I didn’t want you to be blamed for it if Mr. Duvall realized you weren’t in it.”

“So…” You were trying to wrap your head around Regina’s words. “You wrote all that stuff… to protect me?”

“I hated every minute of it.” Regina seemed so serious; she looked so desperate for you to believe her. “It was so hard to write that, because I didn’t believe any of it. The truth is… I’ve actually liked you for a long time, Y/n.” You looked at her bewildered, and she took your silence as a cue to continue. “That’s why I had never put you in the book. I remember always pretending to forget or lose my pencils so I could talk to you because you’d always let me borrow yours. Or I’d leave one of my books at home, hoping that you’d share yours with me.” Regina took a deep breath, reminiscing on the little moments she had with you before she ruined it all. “It’s so corny, but I never felt as on top of the world as I did when you were talking to me.”

You stared at Regina, completely shocked. This was not at all what you were expecting when she begged you to listen to her. At the most, you thought it’d be a little apology, and then she’d leave. Instead, you had gotten a full-on love confession from Regina George, who, for the first time probably ever, looked scared as she waited for your response.

“I’ll leave you alone now.” She said after another minute of awkward silence. “I promise I won’t try to bother you anymore. And again, I’m really sorry.”

Regina stood up, but your hand shot out and grabbed her arm to stop her. She looked down at you to find that you were already staring at her.

“I…” You started, still trying to process the situation. “I guess I can forgive you. And I suppose I could give you another chance. You know, like a do-over.”

“Really?” Regina smiled hopefully, lowering back down into her chair. You realized your hand was still clasped around her arm, so you let go and cleared your throat.

“Yeah. I mean, after all, you gotta make it up to me. Emotional damages and all.” 

You returned to the notes and textbook you had neglected, found where you had left off, and started writing again. Regina took this as her cue to leave, and she wondered what would happen after this. But before she could stand up again, your free hand drifted to hers on the table, pinky laying over hers. She smiled and curled her small finger around yours.

You stayed there until the end of your free period. And when the two of you went to your next class, which you shared, Regina was both relieved and ecstatic when you sat in the seat next to her without a second thought.

SOMETIMES I FIND OUT someone famous i know/kinda know/used to know plays ffxiv and it's like good gods hell YES

cherries or peaches? ft. obey me! brothers

summary: do they prefer ass or boobs? ft. obey me! brothers x f!reader

cw: highly suggestive, mdni, fluff??, pet names (darling, sweetheart), fondling, groping, MY HUMOUR..

word count: 1.5k

a/n: sorry for some of them being so short, it was actually kind of challenging trying to elaborate on the ideas rather than just plainly stating them out as they are, but i hope u still enjoy them just as much as i enjoyed writing them ^^ also, don't mind my shitty humour in the last two + i haven’t written for most of these characters before so they might sound off idk??

at first, it was hard to tell whether lucifer preferred ass or boobs.

he would always reply to you with a, "i prefer them both, equally," or a, "why should i choose when i can like them both?"

it drove you crazy because you clearly asked him to choose either one or the other. he was always dodging the question and at some point, you even got the brothers in on this, some bets were made too.

"it's obvious he likes ass more, have you seen the way he looks at y/n when they're wearing that skirt he bought for them?"

"nah he totally like boobs more, he can't keep his eyes off ‘em whenever they're wearin' a tight shirt!"

soon you started to take these signs into account, wearing much more revealing things to try and catch a reaction out of him, but to your demise, he never seemed to crack.

after weeks of bet-making and skin-revealing lucifer had finally had enough. the two of you were both lying in bed, facing one another while his arms were wrapped around your waist.

"y/n," he whispered.

"mhm?" you hummed in response.

"isn't it obvious i like these better?"

he pulled himself closer to you as his face buried against your chest. oh you thought. he had always found comfort sleeping against you like this, his head stuffed between your boobs while his arms wrapped around you tightly, that it became natural and you had almost forgot he did it.

"shit— you should've told me earlier! now we've all lost our bets to mammon!" you whined.

you could hear his muffled chuckles vibrate against your body as you wrapped your arms around his head, squeezing him closer.

mammon is 100% an ass-loving guy, no questions asked.

with mammon, no matter what you're doing, what you're wearing, where you are, or who you're with, he just loves touching you all the damn time.

whether you're walking through the halls of RAD to your next class or taking a stroll through the devildom while window shopping, he won't hesitate to sneak his hands up your skirt to feel your plump ass.

"mammon stop, we're in public!" you glare as you swat his hands away.

"’m sorry can't help it, just gotta have my hands all over ya!"

oh well, maybe next time he’d be lucky enough to sneak his hands further down your skirt and— who knows, you might just find yourself begging him for more.

and if it's just the two of you in your own company, you'll always find that his hands like to slip past the waistband of your panties just to lay onto your cheeks, rubbing and squeezing at the plump flesh. always smiling in delight as you squirm under his carnal touch.

as much as you like to complain, he always swears that "it's just comfortable!" or "my hands were just cold!"

there is no doubt in my mind that leviathan wouldn't be on team cherries.

he always lets you sit on his lap whenever he's grinding a video game or on an anime-watching marathon. a recent occurrence you've taken note of is that, almost as if it's a reflex, he'll always end up having a hand or two resting on your boobs, casually squeezing at it as if he owns the thing.

"you must be real comfortable there, levi." you teased, motioning to where his hand laid.

"huh�� OH! um, I-I'M SORRY I DIDN'T MEAN TO!" he shot his hands up in defense. "it's just really soft… and warm... I'm sorry y/n." his face was bright red.

"it's fine, i was just teasing you, silly!"

there was also a time where you scolded levi for owning one of those mouse pads where ruri-chan’s the characters boobs would be squishy.

in desperate need to make it up to you, he custom ordered a version with you on it, only because he swears out of all his waifus, you're his absolute favourite.

it was a rainy night, and in the comfort of the library beside a crackling fireplace, you were messing around on your d.d.d while satan was next to you, reading what you assumed to be a mystery book.

"hey satan?" you put your d.d.d down for a moment, turning to look at him.

"hm?" he hummed, while keeping his eyes glued to the page.

"do you prefer ass or boobs?"

he pauses to look up at you and closes his book, placing it beside him, all while sighing.

"what does it look like i prefer?" he deadpans.

you break his eye contact as you look down to see his left hand buried under your sweater, which was fondling with your boob this entire time.

"so... boobs?"

he replies while picking his book up again, "yes darling, don't ask such foolish questions."

asmo loves boobs. your boobs to be specific.

don't blame him, your boobs are just so pretty and he loves pretty things.

the way they sit when you're wearing a low-cut garment, or the way they shine when you're having a bubble bath together. he loves it all.

as you know, asmo loves pampering you and surprises you with random gifts whenever he finds something that he'd love to see you in.

one night as he's doing your hair after a bath, he suddenly remembers something and stands to walk to his closet.

"the other day when i was shopping at majolish, i found this super pretty bra i thought you'd look just gorgeous in!" he approaches you with a box wrapped neatly with a ribbon.

as you open the box, you set your eyes on a beautiful red laced bra.

"are you sure i'd look good in this?"

"you look perfect in everything sweetheart, you know i’d never lie about that."

he's always buying you pretty things to wear, and trust me when i say, this definitely isn’t the first bra he's ever gotten you.

beel could not care less about choosing between your ass or boobs. they're both squishy and feel nice in his hands so it didn't really matter to him. well, not until today.

getting up from the edge of the bed and turning your heel to face him, you asked, "did you know a new cafe opened up in the devildom recently?"

"really? what food do they sell there?" he asked, his eyes looked as if there were stars in them.

"well apparently their cakes are a specialty, they're pretty popular for it."

"cake?" he drooled, "i love cake! hey we should go to the cafe right now, i'm starving." he sat up from the edge of the bed, drooling like a puppy dog.

little did he know, you decided to be a little jokester today.

"oh you're starving right now? then here," you turn around, bending over.

"what are you doing y/n?"

you turn your head back to look at his confused expression, "you said you were starving right? the cake's right here," you pointed to your ass.

he stares at you for a moment. then at your ass. then back at you again.

"so there's no cafe, is there?" he wipes his drool away with the back of his hand.

"nope. but there sure is cake," you smile cheekily while shuffling closer.

he sighs while grabbing ahold of your thighs, dragging you just inches away from his lips, "you're lucky i like this kind of cake too."

as long as he can sleep on them, belphie will like them no matter what. so when it comes to choosing between your ass or boobs, it can be a hard decision just to choose one.

belphie's "sleepability" criteria is: soft, warm and comfortable; and your boobs and ass were equal competition.

he sighs, "if i have to choose one over the other, i'd rather sleep on your ass all day" his reasoning being because your ass has more of an "even surface" compared to your boobs.

if you're ever just lounging around the house of lamentation, on your stomach specifically, within seconds you'll feel belphie's arms wrap around your legs while he lays his head onto you.

its crazy how instantly he falls asleep on you. he'd stay like that forever if you didn't have to get up to pee or because your legs fall numb.

"c'mon belphie, i needa pee so bad!" you squirm.

"mmmphh," he grumbles, half-asleep, while hugging onto your legs even tighter.

"hurry up or i'll fart on your face!" you threaten him jokingly.

"OKAY, OKAY!" he shoots up from his position and is scrambling to the edge of the bed. you laugh in response because it works every time.

"and i was having a good dream too!" he scowled, while rubbing his left eye from sleep.

lmk if u guys want a part two ft. the datables!

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