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milkzoro · 6 months

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should i save her? i wnna be saaaaved

🎬✧ portgas d ace x fem!reader

was it a coincidence? or were you soulmates? interesting how the two of you always manage to end up together… fireman!ace saves your panties from a house fire. unfortunately there’s no smut in this, crazy i know. mostly fluff and ace being a cutieeeee. i love him lots & don’t think he would fuck you for the first time being intoxicated… that being said, fic contains// drinking, a lil smooch, cuddles, ace being a lil tease, all that…

☁️ 𐙚 . ˙ 𖧧 ₊ ˚ 🐇

“shit shit shit!” you panicked, trying to put out the burning fire with a measly cup water you had on hand, unfortunately, that only seemed to cause it to burn brighter. the water evaporated almost immediately, and with every passing second, it got worse. the clothes that were messily piled up on your dresser were now fully inflamed, and the wood took on enough heat to finally catch fire.

“oh my fucking god? where’s my goddamn phone!” there was no reason to try and put out the fire yourself, you’d only end up getting hurt. ‘cursed candle’ you scoffed while scurrying around your smokey room looking for your phone. even if it was your favorite scent, you knew you should have thrown out that stupid candle your ex got for you.

after flipping through the blankets on your bed, you found it, immediately you dialed the fire department. “hello? hello! yes! please there’s a fire at my house my address is. . .” you’d hope they’d make it there soon, the smoke stared to suffocate you to the point where you didn’t know if you could make it out, chemicals filled your lungs and it was getting harder to breathe. . .

. . .

you felt strong arms carrying you, woodsy musk and smoke filled your senses. the man placed you down in the back of the fire truck with plenty of water before rushing back into your fire-filled house to see if there were any more casualties to look out for. luckily enough, you lived alone.

shortly after, he came back to you. he tore off his headset and revealed his soft, freckled face. you were taken aback, he might as well be your knight in shining armor for saving you, he had stains of soot covering his cheeks but still looked so pretty. . .

“i couldn’t save them all but. . . i managed to get a few.”

he held up a couple pairs of your cute lacy panties, blood rushed to your face once you noticed what they were. you were quick to snatch them away—your face fell hot with embarrassment. it really didn’t help that the man was attractive, you couldn’t even look at him. “oh! it’s fine, thank you…” the tension was thick and awkward, the man starred at you trying to comfort you on your losses.

“we managed to put out the fire, miss. your room is pretty much fine, but the dresser didn’t quite make it. . . i saved what i could.” he sighed—holding up some more of your lounge wear. he seemed sad he couldn’t save everything but you were grateful nonetheless that he did everything he could.

“do you have somewhere you can stay while we get everything cleaned up?” he peered at you, cute freckled face and dark eyes held your gaze.

“uhmm yea, i do. thank you.”

“the pleasures all mine, get some rest and please, no more candles.” he let out a hefty laugh before giving you back your delicates. yea, definitely no more candles.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

it’s a couple days later and you’re back in the comforts of your now, fire-free home. living alone was super easy, you got to do whatever you wanted whenever you wanted. if you didn’t wanna do something, that’s perfectly fine. movies and snacks all day, and that’s usually how it always went but today you had something planned.

about a week ago you had made an appointment to get your ears pierced, you favorite tattoo shop was having a flash sale on all lobe piercings so you thought it would be best to schedule ahead.

the studio was surprisingly quiet for a weekend, a few teens who were there for the flash sale and one other person, but he was faced down and getting a tattoo stenciled on across his very sculpted back.

“oh hey! i know you.” his head perked up once he heard the chime of the studio door, he watched as you stepped inside.

‘please god, tell me it isn’t him. fuck, it’s totally him.’ he smiled warmly at you, kind eyes curling up and he showed all his teeth—how could you not forget such a cute face.

“no you don’t.” you were quick to answer, but he retaliated.

“um yeah… yes i do! i saved you from that fire! don’t you remember? all your panties? sorry i couldn’t save ‘em all.” his lips quirked up slightly as he still felt bad, but his non-filtered reenactment of the events earned some confused reactions from the staff and other customers that happened to be in earshot.

“did you have to bring that up again? i told you not to worry about it, ‘m just happy i have my house back.”

“can’t i make it up to you? and i never got your name. . . ‘panties’~” he snicked at his nickname for you, seeing you get flustered made it all worth while for him. he enjoyed seeing your petrified face as he egged you on.

“shut up, and shouldn’t you be staying still? lay your ass back down.” you gestured to the table he was perked up on, the artist seemed annoyed at his movements.

“ahh, you’re right sweetheart. but, your name? then i’ll promise to let you be. . . ‘panti—’”

“y/n! it’s y/n. happy?”

“very.” he smirked your way and laid back in position effortlessly once he got his answer. the artist sighed and got back to work.

you rolled your eyes trying to suppress the smile that was creeping on your lips, he was crazy. with being a fireman you thought it was unprofessional to bring up such topics in public, but you had to admit—you kinda liked it.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

you thought you might have missed it, his long raven locks swaying as he made his way towards you, even in your drunken state, you knew it had to be him. why does he keep showing up at the most random places? this time though, he was fully determined to make his way to you and just talk. the distance was small but he stumbled all the way over. soon, you were greeted with the pretty fireman.

“wow you’re really drunk right now, aren’t you?” you couldn’t stop the giggles as you held the edge of his shoulder to keep him upright and standing, he swayed lightly with the music in the background as he sang incorrect lyrics softly to you.

you couldn’t help but smile, he was silly like this, maybe it was the drinks in your own system catching up with you but he looked really good right now.

“no mmm not. . . you’re jus really blurry-”

he let out a few of his own laughs, touching and talking with you for sometime, he really liked you.

“y/n.” he held you tight, catching himself on you before he could fall.

you were surprised he remembered your name, i’d been about a week since your last encounter at the tattoo shop. that day, he had introduced himself as ace. portgas ace in fact, lead role in the fire department in his city. he made sure to make that a know fact in hopes to impress you.

“can you take me home? think i’m too ddrunk.”

you blatantly agreed, he looked a mess. and besides, you did owe him, technically. your arm snaked around his making your elbows meet, but he shook you off. he mumbled something you couldn’t quite make out. but instead, his big hands stumbled to find your own, interlocking your fingers and he squeezed them tightly as to say he’s ready to follow you.

his simple actions had an effect on you, holding hands always seemed to be more intimate rather than something simple, like a kiss. his warmth made your tummy do flips, and his big muscles—his strong hands and arms were so close, you felt so small next to him.

you tried to take your hands from his but he whined. he missed your touch.

“wait, let me call order an uber. i’ll be fast i promise.” you found the closest car to come pick the both of you up, you just needed his address. you tried to hand him your phone, “can you type in your address? here take this.”

he groaned again. “mmmuhggg y/nnn—can’t we just go back to yours?? can’t type.” as the words slurred from his lips, they curled into a smirk. little shit, you knew he was playing it up a bit. fuck it—it’s late and it’s cold, you were ready to leave. now, you just have a friend coming with you.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

as you stepped into the coldness of night, you and ace stumbled through the streets to meet with the driver—his natural warmth kept you from shivering as he held you so close. little touches and sweet laughs were shared as you climbed into the backseat, ace stumbled along behind you, tripping on the doorstep as he made his way to sit next to you. the driver glanced back, seeing giddy intoxicated couples wasn’t out of the norm for him, the driver found the two of you endearing.

the car soon became a temporary haven for you, ace’s laugher sounded heavenly as it meshed with the purring of the car engine.

his rough hands found themselves attached to your hips, slowing rubbing up and down. with every passing second, you couldn’t help but grow attached to him. you’ve never met some like him. he was just so different from any other guy you’ve met, from his endless teasing to his charisma—how you always managed to end up together was a mystery.

he snuggled up next to you getting real close—he muttered in your ear, “wanted to tell you you looked pretty tonight,, mm watched you for awhile but was a little nervous.”

a blush crept onto your cheeks hearing his sweet nothings, ‘he was nervous?’

you felt his warmth radiating as he leaned in closer to you. his breath tainted with the smell of alcohol as his lips were millimeters from yours, but the car suddenly came to a stop. the driver interrupted just as they were about to touch. your stomach sank, you were ready to know what they felt like.

the driver turned around, oblivious to the romantic tension, and broke the silence, “here’s your stop folks, thank you and have a safe night.”

you both exchanged a look, a mixture of frustration and amusement, before gathering your things and stumbling out of the car. he soon drove off, leaving you standing on the sidewalk with a shared understanding. you hurried to get your keys and unlock the door.

as the door creaked open, you ushered him inside, the atmosphere filled with unspoken anticipation. once the door closed behind you, the playful glint in his eyes returned, and with a teasing smile, he quipped, “ahhh alone at last~ now, where were we?”

how cliche.. but that seemed to be very on brand for him—cute.

without waiting for an answer, he closed the gap and pulled you into his firm chest. this time, there were no interruptions—just the warmth of a long-awaited first kiss from your knight in shining armor.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

he’d be such a cute bf stawp

#one piece x reader #portgas ace x y/n #portgas ace x you #portgas ace x reader #portgas d ace x reader #portgas d ace #portgas d ace fluff #one piece fanfiction #portgas d ace smut #one piece fluff

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butchkelev · 2 months

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Hello, I bounce between two names but typically go by Will online! I post lewds, code on neocities, take other photographs, and read often. I am using this post to talk about attempts at raising funds for long-needed top surgery, and the gfm I use to host it. I’m a trans stone butch, and I have been publicly iding as a trans man since 2018. Since puberty (2015?) however, I have been desperate to get rid of two glaring, physically heavy boulders on my chest. I am a full-time blue-collar worker at a commercial paint store, and since we lift hundreds to thousands of five gallon buckets (60-100 pounds each) every day, I cannot safely bind on or off the job as I need to rest. Even sports bras bind too harshly due to my size, and when wearing one I cannot take in a full breath. Sizing up is not an option, as my breasts are severely saggy and inhibit my mobility at work (and mental power out of dysphoria) as they move. I work an eight and a half hour shift every weekday and drive half an hour to and from my job- that’s at least 9.5 hours of (light?) binding every weekday, and every weekend usually adds 4-6. I have been binding (properly, I swear, as this 9.5/5 in wage labor thing started seven months ago) from such a young age that my breasts are abnormally saggy for their size and have already lost most sensation. There is no way to get that back (I do not want it back), but there is a way to give me strength and confidence and tame dysphoria, and that’s of course a double mastectomy, or top surgery. All the money I earn at my full-time job needs to be saved for my run from southern Florida, and as such I cannot afford to save for gender-affirming surgery whatsoever. I have a gofundme here, which is the only place I currently take donations.

If any of my photo sets have got you going, I seriously urge you to tip me (and, while you’re at it, swers on this site that you dig) the only way I have set up and help me live a fuller life. I have not hidden my work behind a paywall, as I doubt it would’ve worked anyway, but this funding is the top motivator of why I post at all while I still have breasts. So, if you’re into any of it, let’s keep this shit going!

If you want a gift, I have NSFW offerings below the cut.

Thank you dearly for considering helping, and sincerest biggest most insane thank you to anybody who has pitched any amount to me—it lights up my world, really, and I cannot thank y’all enough. ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

Alright, you want more… fair enough!

I cannot do videos or self penetration in any hole. I can, however, show hole in photo sets tailored to your descriptions and desires. Each “set” is three photos each, and may include extras for no charge; only three are guaranteed per concept. Any donation at or above 8$ and proof of an email receipt gets you a slot (equals three photos or one “concept”). You can talk to me about details before or after one is placed, though I suggest before if you know ahead of time that you want this, because if you make a donation but I cannot fulfill your request, I cannot refund you. What I need to know is:

-vibe, concept, other synonyms? you can even be abstract, though I’ll likely ask more clarifying questions -what am I wearing? glasses, nothing, nothing but a collar, full clothes, etc., go nuts (browse existing photos to get an idea of what I have; I cannot afford to buy new objects or clothes) -are there any parts of my body* you want me to focus on? -subby or dom(ish)? pup-oriented? -any camera, only Nikon (denim sets on my profile were shot with such), only iphone?

These photos will be yours and yours alone, and thus will not ever be posted to butchkelev for other eyes, unless you would like me to do so** with direct credit for concept and funding.

*I know a lot of you really, really get off on the exact breasts I have been so long hellbent on ditching. If you want to see a photo, one photo, of my boobs without them being pinned down or hidden, I charge 30$. Any additional photo is also 30$. I will not take these photos lazily, and they will be quality, but my breasts, big as they are, are not picturesque (sagged to the point of mutilation), so proceed with caution and seriously curb your fantasies. If I send you a nude including my uncovered chest, you are NOT allowed to respond with any positive comment on them. I keep take the cash and block you. I know bodies are neutral, but from strangers or mutuals or partners, I refuse to take any “compliment” on what I desperately need to destroy. It is extremely disrespectful and not at all gentle or kind to me. **I will not share any photos of me with an uncovered chest on my account no matter what.

Anyway :,) Thank you for anything and everything!

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grimesgirll · 2 months

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your old roommate was a huge stoner.

she was always rolling up and you were always welcome to join, so sometimes you did.

unfortunately, weed was not a priority in the apocalypse, much less something that could even be sourced. you didn't think much of it. there were greater things to worry about like surviving than getting high.

but that doesn't mean you don't jump at the chance to spark up with daryl after he finds someone's forlorn stash in the crumbling chimney of an untended house - which was one way to hotbox a place. of course, you two have to hide your score from your resident sheriff who you didn't imagine was all too keen on "drugs" - after all, it was the ricktatorship back then.

daryl had squirreled you away to a remote bridge underpass close to where your group was establishing camp for the weekend, undead and all other factors allowing. with the alibi of a sunset deer hunt and the materials for a homemade gravity bong hidden in your backpack, the evening was yours to get ripped.

you weren't as close with daryl back then. that smoke break with him actually pressed a lot of buttons you never knew you had. you even peeled back some layers, something daryl was reluctant to do then, even with you.

whoever had stashed their weed in the chimney'd left over an ounce in there, so you and daryl made that shit last.

suddenly you both were volunteering for earlier watch shifts so you could have a joint every now and then afterwards. it wasn't until rick ripped open the door of the abandoned ice cream shop you two were blazing up in that you knew anyone was onto you.

"can't sneak around a fucking cop," daryl muttered the next day.

rick had immediately asked what was wrong with the two of you; how in the hell could you let yourselves get carried away like that? let your guard down? you could've been swarmed at any moment!

you felt like a kid getting lectured, and daryl did too when despite him assuring your leader, "it's just a way to relax, man," rick just kept going.

looking back, you're pretty sure that half of the problem was jealousy. stumbling upon daryl and you alone and blissed out halfway to the moon must've ground his gears.

so yeah, rick grimes may not be a cannabis enthusiast at first. from then on, it’s a delicate dance of dodging rick. this is only after you stumble upon more weed because the asshole had “confiscated” the baggie and dumped the gravity bong.

daryl is fuming but you know that what’s done is done. it’s the cop in rick. the same man who gives you all the riot act on how you need to shape the fuck up and how he never needs to catch you two doing that again, as he walks you back to camp. you just nod your head and keep your mouth shut. you guys will find a way around it anyway.

and you do.

in overgrown courtyards, on half rotted benches, creaky porches, in old automobiles, remote wings of the prison, on “walks” and “hunts.”

and it isn’t long before you and daryl are sneaking out of bed, leaving a sleeping rick while you finish off an old backwood daryl had saved. the balcony off of the bedroom in alexandria is the perfect place to enjoy yourselves after a long day.

you’re sat on the cushioned patio chair; daryl stands and torches the half finished backwood. as per usual, he offers you the first hit which you eagerly accept. alexandria’s quaint nocturnal stillness is all the motivation you need to silence the cough welling up in your chest. you pass the blunt back to daryl who cups his hands as he lights the end again, protecting the vanilla tobacco flavored end from the elements.

another hit and your mind is focused on daryl. the glint his blue eyes were catching from the moonlight, how the black button up he’d thrown on as you slipped out fits him, how he looked taking a long, rewarding drag before passing it back to you to indulge for a third time.

by this point, you’re higher than the ISS. so faded that you don’t hear the glass door sliding open. you register rick by the low whistle. your insides turn to molten lava. this isn’t the first point you’ve been caught smoking with daryl and it won’t be the last but god, did rick sneak up on you two. scared the shit out of you when you were stoned. rick grimes instilled paranoia was not fun while under the influence.

“you know there are other ways to relax, right?”

daryl scoffs. “when we’re done, man.”

“she looks like she’s all done for the night.”

speak for yourself, you wanna snap at him but you’re too high. you just exhale, rising and standing next to daryl along the railing. the man wordlessly offers another hit. you offer a breathy ‘thank you’ and put the thick blunt between your lips.

you don’t miss the way rick is paying attention to you - now from the patio chair. not missing a moment as you inhale, and after a second or two, exhale. a spot enters your field of vision and you pass the battered backwood back to daryl. it’s not long before you’re feeling the weight of that weed like a whale and backing towards the chair where rick is waiting to draw you into his lap.

he doesn't partake but that doesn't stop him from partaking in you when you're stoned.

you're always fun but there's something about the way your eyes glaze over and you're suddenly in his lap on the chair, pulling at his hair and kissing lazily.

he loves you all giggly and handsy.

“you gonna be a good girl now?” he questions.

you raise an eyebrow. “what did i do?” he gestures to daryl, who is happily bringing the backwood to a close. you shake your head.

“once a cop, always a cop.”

rick snorts. “hope you don’t get weed dick.”

“you wish.”

bored by their banter, you bring your lips to rick’s, not hesitating to open your mouth more for him to snake his tongue in. the ache between your thighs bumps against rick’s bulge; you two simultaneously groan so loud daryl is telling you to hush.

“pants down.” rick orders.

you shimmy your loose pajama pants on. they were perfect to pull on and off. you hang them on the side of the chair.

the sheriff starts shifting a finger between your leaking folds while daryl disposes of the blunt. you bite back a whimper when his long finger twists inside of you.

from then on it’s a grueling rhythm. one you were feverishly responding to. he doesn’t let up - just fingers you until you’re gushing around his fingers. when he decides he would rather have you gush on his cock than all over his lap, he shuffles down his sleep pants, just in time for daryl to observe as you settle over rick’s impossible dick.

“you know there are other ways to relax, right?” you mock as you sink down onto his length.

the ex-cop rasps, hands anchoring to your waist while you buck your hips so your clit gets in on the fun too. you gyrate and roll your hips unforgivingly; rick just huffs and pants, forehead lined with sweat.

daryl twitches in his pants. observing rick fuck your tight little pussy is enough to have him pressing against his jeans from the inside out. what he wouldn’t give just to feel you losing your mind clenching around his finger.

you shudder when you feel a finger probing around your crammed entrance.

“daryl!”

“shh, gonna wake up the whole neighborhood, baby.”

“fuck’re you doin’?”

“relax, man.”

“you’re not gonna fit on this chair with the both of us,” rick disclaims, struggling to catch his breath as you clamp down around him.

daryl shakes his head. “not what i’m tryna’ do.”

his sturdy finger pushes through the resistance your pussy and rick’s shaft face him with. he’s managed an inch in when you start whining. you’re burying your head in rick’s shoulder from the sensation.

numbed slightly by the effects of the kush you and daryl’d just enjoyed, pleasure starts to mount inside of you. your core gets that familiar searing feeling. even more so when daryl picks up the pace. the first few inches of muscle require him to work through slowly, but after enough hissing from rick and squirming on your part, you two groan in ecstasy.

you feel daryl’s finger beneath you as you rock on top of rick. you’re struggling for breath. “love having you both inside of me.”

daryl adds another finger.

“love seeing your face all scrunched up, darlin’,” your leader is whispering raggedly into your neck.

“love being filled tight for you guys.” you pant.

“you’re just right, baby,” rick grunts in response.

“so tight. good fucking girl.” daryl praises, eyes lighting up when you maintain eye contact - all fucked out and on your way to an orgasm, daryl is about to ruin his drawers just looking at you.

he speeds up the motions of his fingers, accelerating the thick digits until they’re suddenly immobilized by your contracting cunt. fingers stopped, he uses the other hand to devote some time to your clit to help you ride out your orgasm.

“‘bout to come.” the brunette under you is rasping.

you can barely compute. you’re just a ragged mess of breath, skin, warmth, and the stickiness between your thighs and daryl’s fingers from rick’s release. you feel him coat your insides despite keeping up the pace. when he comes out on the other side, he has a cocky grin on his face.

“so you like getting stoned and stuffed?”

a twinge of post-orgasm euphoria washes over your face. you nod, “it’s the best way to relax,” you punctuate with a fevered, sloppy kiss, making room for daryl to join you in a threeway kiss before breaking apart to share a telltale look with rick.

you’re too high for this.

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hoshigray · 9 months

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Hiii!! I rlly love your work & I appreciate you! Ty for ur writing <3 I was wondering if you could do something where reader convinces Toji to let her do his makeup and and and and she straddles him while he’s laying down to do it 🥺 maybe reader gets a little confident n bratty bc of the position n it gets a little spicy ? if you’re feeling up to it ! 🌲💕 this is my first ask so please lmk if my etiquette is off!

Oh, no worries, noonie! Your etiquette is okay, and your request is so cute like wth!!? :00 I worked on this after coming back from my trip, so apologies if this doesn't seem to be in my usual writing style. Also, to make this funny, I tried makeup for the first time while I was away!! Lol, so the experience really came around for this ask, so I appreciate it and hope you like what I jotted down! Other than that, hope you had a wonderful weekend ♡

Cw: Toji x reader - fluff mostly, but it gets suggestive at the end - grinding (m! receiving) - thigh riding (?) - impact play/spanking (2x) - pet names (baby, princess, pumpkin) - putting makeup on Toji <3 - reader and Toji being adorbs omg stop hehehe~ Wc: 1k

"How long is this shit supposed to be?"

"Sit still, will you? I can't work with you constantly moving."

"Tch, you're lucky I'm lettin' you do this because of a bet."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Open your eyes so I can see how it looks." Begrudgingly, Toji opens his eyelids to reveal the emerald eyes you're familiar with. "Okay, close them again."

It's a lazy Sunday afternoon. You and your boyfriend hang out at your place to chill, spending time cuddled up on the couch and watching television. It was your usual weekend routine, being close o your boyfriend like this. However, today was different compared to the other relaxing days prior.

Here you are on your living room couch, straddling Toji's lap with your hands occupied by a palette of green and gold eyeshadow in one and a brush in the other. Reason why? About two days ago, Gojo and Toji got into an argument as they usually do, something about their favorite sports team going against each other. Your man then had the fantastic idea to bet on his team, saying he'll do whatever Gojo says if his team doesn't win.

Why was the idea fantastic? Frankly, it's no surprise to you and the snow-haired other that Toji cannot win a bet to save his life. So when the score showcased the apparent outcome of the older man's loss, Gojo took his win in playful pride. And the punishment? Well, mounting on top of him today should explain it.

"You know, you got a pretty nice eye shape. You're pulling this look off quite nicely." Dadding his closed eyelid with the brush, you paint lime green atop the dark green eyeshadow cascading around his eyes. You chose to do nothing too audacious for the man, as you're just taking pictures and sending them to Gojo afterward.

He scoffs at your comment. "You said that about twenty minutes ago with the other shit you put on me."

"Yeah, well, can't blame me for admiring my handsome man being so fetching. If I slapped a nice dress on you and headed to the club later, I'd bet you'd have a line of men and women trying to ask you out."

"You tryin' to say I'm hotter than you, pumpkin?" He lifts a brow and then snickers after you bonk him in the head with a white highlighter pen.

"Shut up and stay still so I can put this on." You use the pen to apply by the corner of his eyes. Now two white hearts are harbored close to the bridge of his nose. After asking him to open his eyes again, you maneuver around to ensure that both eyes are even. And you beam when you feel accomplished with what you've done. "Perfect! Alright, onto the next part."

"The liner thingy?"

"Yup!" He chortles at your enthusiasm while you grab the item from your makeup bag. Closing his eyes again, you work on the bottom of his lids to form a steady black wing that ventures out. You giggle; who knew doing makeup on your boyfriend would be so much fun? Maybe I should put him in a dress.

With a gleeful attitude and a merry hum, you swing your hips around as you work. But you halt when you feel Toji's hands come to your hips, and you stop moving.

"Hold on there, baby." Toji's hands rub your hips. "Movin' too fast."

It doesn't click you until you realize the position you're in. Your legs still slip apart to sit atop his lap, your bottom directly above his groin. And that's when an idea pops up in your head, unable to fight the grin sneaking up on your face.

Your hips move once more but in a slower motion this time. Toji opens the eye you're not working on to look at your face, but you don't acknowledge it and just continue applying the eyeliner.

"I know you heard me the first time." A silent giggle confirms his suspicions.

"I don't know what you're talking about. Close that eye up." He gives you a furrowed look, yet he does what you instructed, allowing you to examine your work before laying the black material on his other eye. And as your hips continue to apply pressure on his crotch, Toji groans at the motion.

"So you're just gonna act deaf on me, huh."

You bit your lip to conceal the giddiness in your smile. But then it's replaced with an abrupt shriek from your lips when a sudden smack of pain comes down on your ass. "Oww!! Hey, quit it!"

"Quit what?" Now it's his turn to act dumb, giving him a glare while Toji chuckles.

"Whatever. Let me finish this up." You grumble while laying the last strokes of your eyeliner, yet you still grind on Toji. And you can feel the tent of his sweatpants slowly protrude. After a few seconds, you close the eyeliner and put it into your bag. "Now for the final touch. Some cute lip gloss for you...Ahhhh!! Toji, stop it!"

"Then quit grindin' up on me, brat." he snarkily warns you, rubbing his hand on your ass after hitting it again.

"Why? Hate that I'm making you hot and bothered like this?" Your hips grind harder on his tent, and he exhales with scrunched brows. He scowls at you, lidded emerald eyes branding holes into yours. But you don't falter and resume acting tough. "Don't want me to give you attention for being so pretty?"

Before you get an answer, Toji grabs for your ass and shifts to stand up from the couch, and you scramble to warp your arms around his neck before you stumble off the older, muscular man. He walks out of the living room with your arms. And he throws you down to the bed of your room with a tiny 'oof' coming from you.

"You wanna give me some attention, huh?" Toji crawls up on the bed and kisses your lips while sliding a hand down in your leggings, fingers nestling and pushing onto your soaked panties. Your whimpers are taken by his mouth as he kisses your neck. The gloss on his lips leaves sticky marks where he places them. "How 'bout you sit there and look pretty fr' me, then?"

"Mmmph...At least, let me take a picture of your makeup," you say with eyes sewn shut. "Gotta send it to—Ahhmmm..."

"Later," Toji withdraws himself to take off his sweatpants. "In the meantime, lemme fuck the shit outta y'r cute and bratty ass, princess."

421 notes · View notes

octuscle · 6 months

Note

Hey Cronivac Support,

I dont trust myself with the settings so i am asking you. I am Half German and half Moroccan, and I look German af. Brown hair, brown eyes, big smile and a really white skin. I am thinking what would happen if my appearance were based on my Moroccan genes.

Can you help me out?

Brother, chill out! Have a shisha. Just ignore that there's German shit in your body. Your dick is circumcised. You pray at least once or twice a day. Friday you also go to the mosque… It doesn't matter if there are still German genes in you.

Thursday morning. You will survive the last school year at the Gymnasium. What comes after that, you don't know yet. Something with languages might make sense. Your mother tongues are Arabic, German and French. And you are actually quite good in English and Spanish at school. But you also enjoy science. First lesson today is chemistry. Stoichiometry. Actually very interesting. But somehow you have more and more problems to understand your teacher. When he approaches you, you start to stammer. You can't think of the right words. "Youssef, you are welcome to answer in English, if that is easier for you." You sigh in relief. German is really a difficult language. And even though you have a German grandmother, German was never spoken much at home….

During the break, you hang out with your brothers. Talk about soccer, cars, the usual stuff. Smoke an e-cigarette to go with it. And you make an appointment for the afternoon at the gym. Then it's off to the workshop at the vocational school. Metalwork. Hey, you're not training to be a car mechanic so you can mill toys out of metal plates. You want to become a car tuner. And create really hot cars. Your vocational school teacher is from Syria. Fled a few years ago. He speaks much better German than you do. You've only been in Europe for two years. Your mother had the French and the Moroccan passport, so you could immigrate relatively easily. But you didn't understand why you had to move to Germany. Some of your pals now live in Marseille. You would have found that cool, too… But Stuttgart? Just because your father found a good job as an engineer here at Mercedes? Anyway, you're a fighter, you'll survive Swabia.

Lunch is at the snack bar of a former colleague of your father. He has saved up enough money on the assembly line for his own snack bar. And now he makes the best falaffels in town. On weekends, you help out a little. You can always use the extra money. And that way you also get the food cheaper. Since you've been in training, you no longer get pocket money from your parents. You are the eldest son, you now have to do your share to feed the family. And if you are the first to have a vocational qualification here, your chances of getting a permanent right to stay are also the best. If only it weren't for this terrible language…

Gym, auto repair shop, vocational school, Gym…. Your daily routine is somehow always the same. Your boss is also a Muslim, from Turkey, so you have tomorrow afternoon off to go to the mosque. But you also have to work on Saturday. But you are grateful that you have the job. And you can afford your car and the gym. It was not easy to come to Europe. It cost your parents almost all their savings. And now it's your damn duty to succeed and support your family. For that you learn to be a car mechanic, for that you sell falaffel on weekends. That's why you mop the gym floors and clean the toilets at night. You even study German for that. However, this has already brought you a few thousand followers. Your picture from the last workout has 800 likes after just half an hour. Let's see, maybe new opportunities to become rich and famous will develop. You have the right gene pool!

Pic of your latest workout found @tufas

#male tf #muscle tf #reality change #chronivac #male transformation #muscle transformation #race change

206 notes · View notes

peachenle · 1 year

Text

down the hatch

pairing: park sunghoon x fem!reader

genre: college!au | fratboy!au | fluff, established relationship | some suggestive content at the end

word count: 5k

warnings: lots of drinking, profanity, sexual themes, fake frats, more semi-unhumorous banter, sunghoon biceps

༄࿔˚✧ synopsis: “a collection of moments with sunghoon, shared over meals, snacks, and drinks. a riff off of timestamps. not in chronological order. a continuation/epilogue of captain’s log.”

tagging: @dearhee @ozymandia-s @judeduartewannabe @pokemonpartyworld @thejjrl @end-hyphen

jungle juice

There wasn’t a lot you could do when it came to football game weekends. You knew the drill. Your roommate Yunjin would be pestering you to “Can you please show at least a little school pride?” as she posed you for pictures, dressed in your university’s sanctioned colors. Sunghoon would be off doing god knows what to prepare for the HYB tailgate. However, today’s game was much later in the day, and you were saved from the tragedy of drinking at 8am like last time.

Sunghoon had warned you that he’d be busy that morning, buying groceries for the pre-game, the tailgates, and the afterparty. You decided you’d return to the library, cramming a couple assignments (like usual) before the chaos of the upcoming afternoon.

Not even an hour into your studies, and uncharacteristically, Sunghoon began sending you a string of messages.

sunghoon: is this a good juice brand *photo attached*

you: its orange juice i dont think you can go wrong but yes

sunghoon: is 1kg of strawberries enough

you: why did they let you buy groceries by yourself this time

sunghoon: *photo attached* I’m with riki

you: …

you: remind me to not consume whatever you guys are trying to make

*Sunghoon disliked a message you sent.*

The festivities of the day included a pregame at the HYB house, carpools to the main stadium parking lot for the tailgate, and cheering alongside everyone else at the actual game. Naturally, the night would end at HYB.

You were still shy about letting yourself inside the house, even though you knew they never locked the doors on days like this. Sunghoon once insisted on giving you a key, to make it easier for you when you came over. And though the other guys that lived at the house gave him permission to do so, you - maturely - explained that you had to respect their spaces as a guest. Sunghoon met you with a pout and a reluctant nod of understanding.

I’m outside, you texted your boyfriend, stepping up the stairs to the front doors. You heard yelling and music, and you were surprised the fun had already begun.

You stepped back as the door swung open, meeting your boyfriend’s sheepish smile and Jay’s bright one. Sunghoon grabbed your hand, brushing a quick kiss on your forehead.

“Alright, Y/N, so we fucked up the jungle juice,” Jay stared at you expectantly, his face fully flushed already.

You made a face, “How is that possible?”

Sunghoon laughed, “Just wait.”

Next to the two large tubs of their creation, the kitchen’s island was littered with empty juice cartons and several empty liquor bottles.. and many beer bottles?

One of the other HYB brothers followed your gaze, “We put beer in it to make it bubbly.”

Sunghoon passed you a cup. You stared at the little strawberry floating within an unnervingly bubbling red-orange concoction. Safe to say the beer was not a good choice, the ratio was definitely off - how can something so fruity taste so bitter? “Yeah, it does taste like shit.”

“Okay, but who drinks jungle juice for enjoyment?,” Riki suggested, shuffling through the songs playing from his phone to the speakers.

Jay, sarcastic, stated. “Jungle juice should be treated as a delicacy.”

Sunghoon, amused, replied, “Then why did you defile it by adding cheap beer?”

“I saw it on TikTok, leave me alone.”

Some other guys arrived later and called for help to set up, so you and Sunghoon were left to figure out what to do with the drinks.

Your guys’ solution was to just add more orange juice, which didn’t exactly mask the beer taste, but it made it more tolerable.

The pregame wasn’t eventful, mostly HYB guys and their significant others taking shots before packing everything (and everyone) into a few cars to take to the university stadium.

The parking lot was crowded, different Greek groups mingling with each other. You and Sunghoon sat in the back bed of a friend’s pickup truck, next to the tubs of jungle juice, watching the chaos unfold.

People were grilling meat, passing lettuce wrapped morsels amongst each other. Everyone was decked out in school colors, some holding signs cursing out the other team.

Sunghoon laid a drunken head on your shoulder, taking a hand into his. You felt him shake with laughter as some of the boys wrestled over a football. Other guys were funneling shots and you thought of your boyfriend, certainly the least chaotic (in terms of drinking) out of all of them.

“Hoon, I wish you’d just own up to your true frat potential.”

“The way you tease my friends for being alcoholic fuckboys really holds me back from that.”

You paused, “You’re the exception to the rule. It’s not anyone’s fault Jay has a new flame each week - he’s just embracing who he is - a HYB brother.”

"I think it's time I hang up the frat paddle and just be a wholesome student."

“Dude, you just picked up a Little, what are you talking about?" Riki interjected (the Little in question).

Sunghoon sighed dramatically, “And I regret it everyday.”

Your school’s team won, and everyone traveled back to celebrate appropriately at the HYB house. The daytime festivities (and drinks) left you tired, and you pulled Sunghoon away from the action to selfishly have him help you to sleep.

It was only 9 pm and you knew there were still drinks to be drunk, but it was getting difficult for you to keep your eyes open.

Sunghoon led you to his bed, climbing in shortly after. You two were silent as he took you into his arms, the warmth of his chest lulling you into darkness.

You woke, the wisps of your hair clinging to your forehead with sweat. You were surprised to find Sunghoon’s limbs still intertwined with yours, considering the bass of the party’s music downstairs still vibrated his bed frame. He definitely did not mean to fall asleep. You brushed the loose hairs out of your face, staring at your boyfriend’s features in the glow of his LED lights.

Sunghoon’s sleeping face was so peaceful, and you often took pictures to relish at the image if you missed him. You were so content. You burrowed your face back into the heat of his neck, not minding how his proximity literally made you sweat. Just being able to be with him… you couldn’t care less.

tiramisu

Your third real date - you could not consider invites to his parties actual dates - Sunghoon wanted to take you to his favorite dessert cafe downtown. The last time he took you out, he offered to drive, picking you up right on time, and with a single tulip sitting on the passenger’s seat.

This time, however, he asked if it was okay if you two could just walk and ride the bus together. Sunghoon had his moments of pure charisma, teasing you smoothly, and finding a way to break out a smile from you. There were other times where you were absolutely astonished at his clumsiness. While Sunghoon was in the final stages of crossing over into HYB, some of the things you had to witness him go through… thank god he was handsome.

The midday sun was beaming brightly, a gentle wind passing through your thin layers - not offering you much comfort to soothe the beads of sweat on your forehead. Sunghoon was dressed casually, a short sleeved button down - revealing just enough of his toned chest, and some loose trousers.

“You know, I asked to walk with you today so that I could have more time with you, but I’m kinda regretting it,” he said pointedly, gesturing at the hot spring rays of the sun.

“Wow, are you saying time with me isn’t worth a couple minutes of sweat?” you said, with a blank face.

Sunghoon’s face contorted to one of apology, his lips opening to ramble a sorry, but then stopped and broke into a smile. “Yeah, you’re less cute when you’re sweaty.”

You scoffed as you pushed his shoulder, discreetly swiping a hand across your forehead.

The bus was packed, and you two were left with the option of standing body to body with other passengers. Sunghoon grabbed a hanging handrail for support before the bus took off, but the others in your section were occupied. The bus jolted forward and you stumbled into Sunghoon’s torso, his free hand catching your shoulder.

Your cheeks burned with embarrassment, and you peeked up to see him bite back a smile. After stabilizing your stance, Sunghoon’s free hand traced down your bare arm. He gently grasped your hand and directed it to his bent arm, offering you his bicep to hold for support.

“You’re sly, Park Sunghoon,” you whispered. His arm was toned, and it felt firm under your grasp.

“Hey, I hit a PR at the gym yesterday, this is a reward for both of us. You should thank me really.”

After making it out of the bus, you didn’t bother to let go of his arm. He coolly slipped his hands in his pockets as he led you to the cafe - you stared at his red ears and knew the impact you had on him.

You picked a table in the back corner, the cafe was decorated brightly and had walls lined with bookshelves. You let Sunghoon order for you. He returned with a bright smile, setting the order pager on the table.

“This place has the best cakes,” Sunghoon was beaming with excitement. You laughed, his giddy expression was so endearing it was hard not to reciprocate.

Sunghoon stood to pick up the order when it was ready, and passed you your pink smoothie. He set a green tea cake and slice of tiramisu in the middle, taking a sip of his Americano.

“So they make tiramisu the authentic way.” Sunghoon began to explain how tiramisu is supposed to be made (who knew he was such a fanatic?), and you spared him of the knowledge that you too knew how it was actually made. “The owner says they get imported coffee beans especially for their espresso, so the flavor is super strong!” He used his spoon to point out the different creamy layers.

The cake did look delicious, but the sight of Sunghoon’s eyes glowing staring at his favorite dessert was more satiating. You sipped your smoothie as he finished his ramble.

Sunghoon slowly carved into the cake with his spoon, and held it out to you.

“Are you really feeding me right now?”

He smiled, “I know you want it.” He was right. You did.

The cake was creamy and soft, just as it looked, but you scowled at the clashing taste.

“I don’t think fruit smoothies with tiramisu is a good pairing…” you smiled sheepishly.

He passed you the cup of his Americano to wash the flavor away before scooping another bite for you. Sunghoon smiled as he noted your expression of approval. The taste of the espresso was bitter, but the cream and cocoa melted to coat your tongue with sweetness.

Sunghoon didn’t mind that he traded his Americano with your smoothie. He didn’t mind that the tartness of the fruit totally ruined his favorite dessert. Your happy expression was enough for him.

somaek

Being in a relationship with someone so popular, and so involved with his social circles, unknowingly pulled you into many social events and gatherings. You were intertwined with his organization, and joining some of their philanthropy events led you to become a desired member in some sororities.

You simply explained you didn’t have the time to commit to anything. You had your own orgs, your own part-time job, and your own studies.

Probably the first problem that you two faced early in your relationship had to do with just that - balancing each of your respective responsibilities. Being in Greek obligated him to attend many events, and him living in a frat house didn’t make things easier when it came to alone time.

You loved his friends, and truly saw some of them as your own now, but spending time with your boyfriend in a room right between Jake and Jay drove you mad sometimes.

There was knocking at Sunghoon’s door. You two were sitting on the floor, your laptop propped up, educating your boyfriend with iconic Vine compilations. “It’s Jake!”

Sunghoon stood to open the door and see what his friend wanted. Naturally, Jake pushed inside disregarding Sunghoon.

“Dude, I’m right here?”

“Hey, Y/N, can you explain the post-lab that’s due tomorrow? The summary part seems so redundant… I don’t get how it’s different from the analysis.”

You blinked at him, half-eyeing the soju and beer bottles you and Sunghoon were peacefully sharing just a minute before. Sunghoon sighed and you snorted.

“Jake, can I please just have a night with my girl? You see her like four days a week in class, and could’ve gotten help then.”

Jake made an O with his lips, realizing his brashness and laughed. “My bad! And I’ve actually seen her everyday this week because of supplementary labs!”

Sunghoon basically dragged his friend out, locking the door behind him.

“Sorry about him.” You shook your head, amused, pretty much accustomed to this behavior already.

You refilled Sunghoon’s beer glass, and poured in a shot of soju right after. “If it makes you feel any better, that post-lab was actually due today.”

Sunghoon downed the drink in one shot, his cheeks cherried from the alcohol. “This is why I love you.”

He paused. That was the first time he said I love you to you. You snickered, “That still counts even if you’re drunk.”

He pouted his lips, then smiled, “Honestly, I consider that a win.” He stuck his tongue out at you. “Ha! I said it first.”

suggestive content in the end of this last section - feel free to skip!

peppermint hot cocoa

Sunghoon was always patient with you, pausing to make sure you were enjoying yourself, never hesitating to ask if you were alright. He was gentle and caring, and never rushed.

However, your first time with Sunghoon consisted of a lot of moving parts. Clashing limbs and rushed whispers, you were out of breath before even really starting.

You’d had your share of one night stands, purely lust filled nights: chaptered with drunken exchanges, entangled bodies, and the dreaded walk of shame the morning after. Only rarely were you lucky enough to have snuck out before the rise of the sun.

Since you two started talking, you had access to HYB and hockey club parties, which were at least every other week. It was still fun to party with your girlfriends, before sneaking away with Sunghoon to play pool or some drinking games.

Each night was riddled with ST and for better or for worse, he never advanced anything further than a couple sessions of making out.

Hell, there was one night where you made out for what felt like two hours straight. One of his hands was finally on the inside of your panties, rubbing you expertly, but as soon as you reached for the front of his jeans, Sunghoon stood up. You two were drunk, but even then you could tell that his “phone call from Heeseung-hyung” was nothing more than him pulling up the calculator app and putting it to his ear.

“I just don’t know why he doesn’t want to sleep with me?” You brought up to Yunjin the next day. “He had a girl in his bed and he pretended to call Heeseung.”

Yunjin bit her lip, and looked at you with the most serious expression. “Y/N, that’s so fucking tragic. Me, personally, I’d stop talking to him.”

“It’s not that I want to just have sex with him!” You whined. “I like him. But you know, we just keep stopping right before.”

She continued, “Imagine getting hot and bothered with a girl on top of you and the thing he thinks of to get out of it is Heeseung. Your tongue was down his throat and his best out was Heeseung.”

“Okay, now this just feels like a jab at Heeseung.”

“He ghosted me, Y/N! I was supposed to do that.”

You rolled your eyes at your best friend. “What do I do?”

“You said the only times you’ve gotten close were when you two were drunk right? Maybe he gets whiskey dick.” She grins.

You pause to think about the things you’ve felt, the times where you’ve run a palm down the front of his pants, just to hear a pretty gasp from him. Or the times where you straddled him, and he grabbed your hips to push you further onto him.

“Yeah… I don’t think so.”

“Honestly, he’s probably just nervous. Anyone can tell just how headass you two are for each other. Or maybe he doesn’t want to do it drunk.”

Yunjin then muttered, “Couldn’t be me. Drunk sex is…”

During a lecture - as you and Jake were hunched over his laptop, going over the practice case scenarios together - you saw a text message pop up on Jake’s screen.

hoonhoon bro: should i just ask her out again

Jake cleared his throat and slowly turned his screen towards only him, “Lemme check something real quick.”

You snickered, “Very subtle, Jake.”

He gave you a look, “I could just lie and say you told me you aren’t into him anymore.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

Jake smiled brightly, “Yeah you’re right, I like you guys too much.”

You then received a text message.

park sunghoon: Are you busy tonight?

you: yes i’m going on a date

park sunghoon: what

Jake looked up from typing on his laptop. In a hushed whisper, “You’re seeing other guys!?”

You kept your eyes on your phone and continued.

you: yeah i started talking to him from a hockey club party

Jake poked your arm angrily, and turned his screen to show you the texts between himself and Sunghoon.

hoonhoon bro: SHES SEEING SOMEONE ELSE WHAT THE FUCK

me: WTF DUDE LET ME ASK HER

hoonhoon bro: wait dont

hoonhoon bro: THEY MET AT A HOCKEY CLUB PARTY?? IVE LITERALLY KEPT MY EYES ON HER AT EACH PARTY I never saw her speak to any other new guys

You covered your mouth to silence your laugh. Jake was seething, waiting for your explanation but you still typed on your phone.

you: yeah his name is sunghoon

park sunghoon: ???

park sunghoon: oh

park sunghoon: We’re going on a date tonight?

you: aren’t we? you asked if i was free lol

park sunghoon: I’ll pick you up at 6

You heard Jake sigh in relief, “I seriously went through all the stages of grief just now.”

When the lecture finished, Jake turned to you one more time. “If things ever go south… Just let him down easy? I like you, dude, but I can’t guarantee your safety from Jay if Sunghoon comes home crying one day.”

All you could do was gently smile and nod.

That evening, fresh from the shower and loaded with the jitters of the impending date in about an hour, you received a text.

park sunghoon: Are you craving anything

you: you

park sunghoon: huh

you: can surprise me

You laughed out loud at yourself. You saw your roommate stare from the corner of your eye. “Embarassing,” she teased.

When Sunghoon notified you of his arrival, you took a deep breath before exiting the dorm building. This was only the second date - sure you’ve had many hours of drunkenness with him at parties - but it didn’t settle the nerves of a date any less.

He smiled at you when you opened the passenger door, a single pink tulip waiting for you on your seat.

Sunghoon’s car always smelled deeply of him, so clean and fresh. He smelled of soap, or crisp linen, and sometimes, like today, you noticed hints of coffee.

“So, I was thinking, does sushi sound good?”

“It’s not really a surprise if you tell me before we go,” you quipped. “But yes, of course.”

He poked your cheek. Sunghoon shared details about his day, discussing a couple of hours at the rink before class.

He snorted, “It’s always awkward giving lessons to kids who have tiger parents. This little boy today ate shit on the ice practicing his loop and his mom yelled at him from the stands.”

Sunghoon grimaced, “Then she yelled at me…”

Your conversation flowed throughout the drive into downtown. He asked you about your day, and you left out the flurry of texts you read about yourself, courtesy of Jake.

“Another girl dm’ed me asking if I wanted to rush next semester. And then she explained she could guarantee me a bid.”

“They must be desperate if they’re asking you.”

“Yeah, like I don’t know if I’d want to ru- wait. What are you trying to say?” You punched his shoulder as he cackled.

“Don’t hit the driver! Very dangerous.”

The restaurant was packed, but since Sunghoon had called ahead of time, you were seated very quickly.

“What would you have done if I didn’t agree to sushi?”

“I would’ve brought you here anyway. Surprise!”

The sashimi was delicious; and you and Sunghoon, shamelessly, audibly groaned at the taste. You two argued over which fish was best, obviously the salmon, and though he disagreed, he happily scarfed down the last piece of salmon when you offered it.

You let Sunghoon guide you through the streets of downtown for a couple blocks, thinking you were just aimlessly walking, before he stopped abruptly.

“You haven’t been here have you?”

He brought you to the skating rink. Sunghoon followed your hands with his gaze as you gripped the ends of your thin long sleeve.

“Don’t worry, I have a jacket in my work locker!” He took your hand as he led you inside.

His coworkers greeted him brightly, a couple of them squinting at him suggestively when they noticed you were holding hands.

Sunghoon helped you select some skates, before taking your hand again to lead you to the back area to his locker. He grabbed the skates out of your hands to exchange them for his hoodie, grinning as you slipped it over your body.

He balanced the two pairs of skates in one arm, still gripping your hand as he took you to the actual rink.

You sat down at a bench on the outskirts of the stands and stared as Sunghoon squatted down in front of you.

“Here, I’ll help you lace them up,” he said, smiling up at you.

“Ok, dad.”

He rolled his eyes, and you blushed as he took one of your feet in his hands to guide it into the skate. He said nothing as he tightened the laces, and tied them expertly with his long fingers.

You gulped. You couldn’t keep your eyes off of his hands as he put on his own skates.

Sunghoon on ice was a different version of him altogether. He took both of your hands into his, gliding backwards. Effortlessly, he kept his eyes on you, while you stared at the ice at his stable feet and your shaky ones.

“Look up at me; it helps with balance,” he said as he tilted your head up with a finger.

In efforts to hide your embarrassment, you responded, “Ice skating seems like the perfect way for you to charm women.”

He grinned, “Yeah, and judging by the look of you… It’s working, isn’t it?”

If you weren’t so uncoordinated on ice, you’d have grabbed his shirt and kissed him right there.

After freshening up in the bathroom, wiping away the sniffles from the cold and fixing up your hair, you found Sunghoon chatting with his coworker at the skate counter.

“You don’t have anywhere to be early tomorrow do you?”

You thought of the 9 am study session you were invited to go to before class. “… Nope, I’m free.”

“That sounded like a lie, but I’ll take it because I feel selfish today,” Sunghoon joked. You thought of how attentive he was today. He was anything but selfish. “Let’s watch a movie, we didn’t properly use my surround sound last time.”

For once the HYB house was quiet and peaceful. The walls were still lined with funny banners, or old decorations. Each time you were at the house previously, it was at night, the rooms only illuminated by LEDs or strobe lights. This time the front of the house was brightly lit by the chandelier. You noticed the fond remains of a certain poster.

This was the first time being in Sunghoon’s room, without the excuse of tequila or rum or a “loud party” ushering you two inside. You could actually make out the couple trophies that were set on a shelf. First Place Park Sunghoon. Another one reading: Runner Up National Champion - Novice.

“Did you ever think of going pro? Making it your full career?”

Sunghoon smiled softly, “Everyday since I started when I was 9, and until I was 17.”

“Injury?”

“Man, we’re getting into the deep stuff… but no, actually. I think I just started getting tired of skating being the only thing I knew. I had like 3 friends on a good day.”

He sat on his bed, patting the space next to him for you, and continued, “I still skated in comps up until last year before I transferred… But it hadn’t felt the same since high school.”

You placed your hand on his knee in support, saying nothing to let him continue if he wanted.

“Now, I’m just trying new things, learning more about what’s out there. I still skate, obviously, but I think I feel better about just having it a hobby than making it my whole life.”

“You’ve gotta show me your old competition videos.”

Sunghoon frowned, “Too embarrassing.”

“Totally googling you later.”

“I’ll show you under one condition,” his hand shifted onto your lap, and leaned towards you. You could almost feel his breathing.

You nodded slowly, “And what would that be?”

He leaned back and grinned, “You share something equally embarassing of course! Your face is so red… Jeez, what did you have in mind, Y/N?”

You couldn’t take it anymore. The flirting, his suggestive eyes, his teases.

“Kiss me,” you stated. “Please.”

Sunghoon blinked in surprise, his teasing smile fading into one of confidence, of pride.

“Well, only since you said please,” he whispered.

You fluttered your eyes closed and you gripped one of his arms as your lips catch his.

Sunghoon smiled and pulled his lips away for a second, “I can’t believe you ordered mint hot cocoa. I can taste it,” his forehead resting against yours.”

“Don’t like it?” you teased.

He kissed you, before saying, “Normally, never. On you? I guess I can tolerate it.”

You pulled him back in, teeth clashing and eager eager hands reaching for the nape of his neck. One of Sunghoon’s arms snaked around your back, guiding you to lay flat on his bed, his other arm leaning by your head to support his weight above you.

He traced kisses down the side of your jaw and you sighed.

“Please,” you hushed, tugging on the hem of his shirt. As he pulled his top over his head, your fingers eagerly glided up his toned abdomen, over his chest, before settling on his wide shoulders again. He leaned down to brush trails over your neck with his lips, his tongue slipping out to fully taste you.

“Seeing you in my clothes…” he mumbled against your skin. You were indeed still wearing his hoodie from the rink.

A worried thought crossed your mind, which was jarring since your only other thoughts were how good his lips felt on your skin, and how nice his fingers were as one of them teasingly toyed with the waistband of your pants.

“Hoon.” His body stopped moving and he looked up seriously at you with hooded lids.

“Why haven’t we ever … gone all the way?”

Sunghoon leaned back, and then laid next to you on his side. “I didn’t want the first time we did anything more to be when we were drunk. I… wanna really remember it. I’m sorry for not explaining that each time I’ve stopped us…”

“Yeah, not sure Heeseung would appreciate being tangled in a lie.”

“OK. That time, I admit, I don’t even know why I did that. I was so nervous,” he covered his eyes with a hand.

“You’re more sappy and sentimental than you look,” you traced a finger over his lips and kissed him, his eyes still covered.

“Alright,” he finally looked at you, his eyes dark. “What do I look like?”

You smirked, “Someone who looks good underneath me.”

And it was true. Sunghoon looked real good. And he was well worth the wait.

#sunghoon x reader #enhypen x reader #sunghoon scenarios #sunghoon smut #sunghoon fluff #enhypen fluff #enhypen fanfic #fic: dth #peachenle fic #sunghoon imagines #ahhhhhhh i wrote this in a flurry i love and hate it idk #if you see me edit this later my bad lol #i love you sunghoon park!

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shadyauthor · 1 year

Text

Strings of their hearts, Prolouge

This is a prolouge to see if you guys like it so far, the chapters will be longer after this so do not fret!! The cast will be introduced after the full version of THIS chapter, after I post this though I will be drawing the "date" outfits, as in the only design change I'm making is giving them a cute outfit to wear on a date with you.

Silence, unbearable silence filled the forest around the dark clearing you were in. The forest around you lacked the sounds of anything; no birds; no bugs; no animals; no one. The only light to guide you around the small clearing was the moon above you, yet still it only lit up the clearing. Not the forest. That damn forest, you didn't know who was in there, what was in there, if there was anything in there at all. It called to you, begging you to come figure out if you were alone or not. The uncertainty was killing you, and the silence was driving you insane, then you heard it.

The breathing

The slow almost silent practiced steps

It stopped behind you

You didn't dare turn around

The growling

Turned to screaming

You crumbled to the ground unable to bear the unnatural sound, laying flat on the ground now, unmoving, you wondered if you were dead.

Then silence filled the air again, and more; and somehow; silence filled the silence.

Wake up.

You bursted from your dream, flying up to sit up in your bed. Cold sweat practically dripping from your face. It was that dream again.. you couldn't stand that dream, the uncanny silence always followed by you falling to the ground and wondering what was happening, or what happened really. You never fully understood why you started having that reoccurring dream, you never did anything in the waking world to even cause the dream. You didn't watch horror movies alot, and you haven't been to a forest since you were a pre-teen. Even then, your memories about that summer were blurry and you couldn't remember what happened.

Looking to your nightstand you read your clock "5:00 AM" You sighed, 'time to get up' . You and your friend group had an entire weekend planned out, you all had been planning this for a few weeks, you all would take 3 of your vacation days off of work and go do fun stuff. Fun stuff as in go out on the town for 2 days and regret it all on the third and go back to work on the 4th, today you all were gonna go shopping, you all had very decent jobs so it wasn't very hard to save up alot of spending money.

So not wanting to be late you got up and trudged to your bathroom, flicking the light on you slightly jolted at your appearance 'damn I look like shit man..' you sighed, your hair an absolute mess and your shirt had a wet spot of drool on the collar. Getting ready was the easiest part of most of your days, as you usually knew exactly what was going to happen in the day, so you knew how to dress. But as this days only objective was to "go shopping" it was to vague to know exactly how to dress, but going casual should be good enough. Getting in and out of the shower was a simple task other than the undying fear that you'll slip and break your neck.

You dried your hair with a towel, you wouldn't brush it till you went downstairs. Throwing on your grey button up and torn jeans you shut the lights off and headed downstairs to do your hair and eat breakfast "alexa play don't worry he happy" you stated nonchalantly, it was your favorite song to play in the mornings to calm the nerves.

Humming along to the song, you shuffled to the kitchen in your socks. 'Hmm cereal or eggs...cereal...or....nah cereals easier' you moved over to the cabinets, opening them and pulling out the generic unhealthy colorful marshmallow cereal. You only had a few dishes in your kitchen as you lived alone, unlike your friends who had spouses and kids already. You preferred to live alone, it was more peaceful this way, you had less to worry about. Though you didn't hate the idea of a family, you just didn't really have time to go on dates, you hadn't even had a vacation since you first got your new job. Shaking your head you brought your thoughts back to the task at hand : 'find a bowl and spoon and eat already dude!'

As soon as you got your bowl of cereal ready you moved to your large living room, with black leather couches and dark rugs that complemented the rest of your homes dark pallette. You turned your large mounted TV on and immediately changed it to cartoons, not really wanting to bother watching the News, you already knew the world was going to shit you didn't need another reminder while you where trying to eat your color bombed cereal.

You sighed in content when you settled on spongebob, the joyful sponge making you forget about it all. You finished eating and reached to your brush that was laying on the couch from the previous day of you being to tired to put it up, sighing you brush through all the tangles of your messy hair and half styling it, as in you just brushed your bangs out of your eyes and called it a day.

You pulled your phone from your jeans right pocket, seeing it was already "7:45 AM" you smiled, it was time to go pick up some of your friends!

#welcome home #welcome home au #wally darling x reader #julie joyful x reader #sally starlet x reader #fanfiction #horror

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loveinhawkins · 1 year

Text

Part 1

Dustin half-expects the phone to ring in the evening—that maybe Eddie will have said something to Steve about how he’s been a dick to him—but no such call ever comes.

So he pretends like he’s busy with homework, times heading to dinner carefully, so that his mom’s got her back to the stove when he limps over to his seat.

At night, he waits until he hears the click of her lamp going off, then manages to smuggle a bag of peas out of the freezer without being noticed. He wraps it up in a dish towel and places it on his ankle, under the bed covers.

He doesn’t sleep.

If the weather’s not bad, he usually rides his bike to school, but he pretends to oversleep and gets the bus instead.

The day drags, but it’s fine.

It’s fine until he decides to go to the bathroom during the tail end of last period—reasons that so long as the receptionist doesn’t catch him, he can head to the bus stop early afterwards.

He thinks he’s alone.

But then as he’s drying his hands, he hears a stall door open lightning fast, and he’s suddenly pinned up against the wall, so close that he can see Aaron’s nostrils flare.

“The thing is, Henderson,” he says, as if they’re just picking up from where they left off; he’s got that tone, Dustin thinks, that ‘good people of Hawkins’ tone. Hiding behind a mask of respectability. “Folks seem to think that the buck stopped with Munson, huh? But I know he would’ve passed his sick shit on.”

It takes a moment for the penny to drop.

“You think I’m leading Hellfire,” Dustin says. He almost laughs. A surge of adrenaline briefly overtakes the fear, and maybe he feels like he’s borrowed a little of Steve’s daring, a little of Eddie’s sharp tongue when he says, “Oh, you’re fucking stupid.”

It happens very quickly.

Cold metal pressed to his throat.

He freezes. Thinks of Sattler Quarry again, of a switchblade, a threat to cut his teeth out.

“They say he took Chrissy’s eyes first,” Aaron says. “Gouged them out.” He presses a little harder. “I could do the same to you.”

Dustin grits his teeth, tries to hold his breath. Feels the ridge of uneven grouting digging into his back.

The school bell shrieks.

And he’s falling.

He only just stops himself from hitting the ground, bangs his knee against a sink. Left alone, he coughs and coughs as the stampede of people leaving class rumbles on outside.

Saved by the bell, says a wry voice in his head. It sounds a bit like Eddie.

Eventually he manages to look in the mirror. There’s a line across his neck, almost touching his Adam’s apple; tiny beads of blood from where the knife was pushed hard against his skin. He cleans it up with paper towels, tries not to gag.

Steve had a mark like this, he thinks; he remembers seeing it when they first discovered the gate in Eddie’s trailer.

Steve never flinched.

His mom’s packing for a wedding out of town, which means he’ll be spending an ‘extra long weekend’ at Steve’s, Thursday through to Monday—something he’d ordinarily be looking forward to.

But right now he can only focus on hiding his neck. He keeps his coat zipped up when he enters his house, all casual, then changes into an old sweater that covers the mark if he folds the turtle neck just so.

As his mom triple checks her case, he relies on her distraction and steals an old tube of foundation.

He dabs it on his neck, wincing at the abrasion.

Another sleepless night.

Why is this so hard? After everything that’s happened, this is nothing.

It should be nothing.

He almost misses Eddie’s van completely, even though it’s parked obnoxiously at the very front of the parking lot. It takes Eddie honking the horn for an embarrassingly long time until Dustin notices him.

“Steve’s picking me up,” he mumbles.

“He took Robin’s shift, she’s sick. So you get me,” Eddie says, complete with the world’s most passive-aggressive jazz hands. “You know, if that’s okay with you and all.”

Dustin doesn’t have the energy to bite back—sure, Eddie’s snippy, whatever—so he just huffs in acknowledgement and gets in the van. His head aches with fatigue; he can barely even feel relief that the day passed without incident.

Lucas had passed him a piece of paper with a comical stick figure during History: ‘Are you okay? You look like your brain is melting through your ears.’ He didn’t even have time to enjoy the stupid drawing, because the teacher busted them for passing notes soon after.

“What’s up with you?”

Dustin starts at the question—only then realises that he’s been pressing his forehead hard against the window as Eddie makes a turning for Steve’s house.

“Nothing. What’s up with you?”

And it should land on just the right side of petty for Eddie to give him shit about it.

But instead, all he hears is the uneasy drumming of rings against a steering wheel, a soft, “Right, right.”

Eddie isn’t angry anymore; he’s worried. Guilt twists Dustin’s insides.

He heads straight upstairs for the bathroom when they reach Steve’s, uncaring of the fact that Eddie can probably see him limp up every step.

The problem is that he doesn’t think—he just does.

Throws off his coat. Turns on the faucet. Splashes cold water in his face.

It helps, but his eyes still itch. Maybe he can pull out the mountains of homework card again, camp out in the guest room and sleep until Steve—

A faint knock on the other side of the door.

“Hey, uh. Just checking you haven’t died, man.”

And Dustin hates that he’s made Eddie sound hesitant.

“Yeah, I’m so dead. Oooo.”

Eddie chuckles slightly. But then he says, “Listen, did I do something? Like, tell me to fuck off, if so.”

“Fuck off,” Dustin says, not convincing in the slightest.

In the silence, he can practically hear the cogs in Eddie’s brain turning.

“You didn’t run track.”

It’s not a question.

Dustin rubs at his eyes. “I got tripped.”

“…Tripped,” Eddie echoes. “Dustin. Come on.”

“Fine. I… got in a fight.”

“You?”

“What, is that hard to believe?” Dustin snaps.

“Yeah. Yeah, it is, actually.”

There’s something in Eddie’s tone that makes Dustin’s eyes threaten to burn. It sounds like I know you.

“Well, go on. Gimme the details. What, did you place bets in the cafeteria about who would—”

“No-one else saw,” Dustin says, then immediately cringes at the fact that he’s walked right into Eddie’s trap and given answers.

“Oh, well fucking done,” Eddie says, and maybe it’s meant to sound sharp, but Dustin can only hear how it’s tight with anxiety. “So someone started shit, and you decided, in your infinite wisdom, to settle it alone, when anything could’ve—”

“What the fuck was I supposed to do? Just let them keep saying—”

“You run,” Eddie says. “Jesus Christ, Henderson, I don’t give a flying fuck what they were saying. You run like hell out of there, and you don’t look back, do you fucking hear—”

“You didn’t run!” Dustin says.

He hadn’t planned on saying it at all; the words feel like they’ve been ripped out of him, his voice wrecked.

Silence.

The door opens. Eddie looks completely floored.

“Was this about me?” he asks very quietly.

Dustin looks away. “He—he just—you didn’t hear what he was saying. Eddie, it was. Bad.”

And I’ll never repeat it, he thinks. I’m never using that fucking awful word.

“Hey, what’s that on your…?”

Eddie’s eyes narrow, and Dustin realises too late that he’s staring at his neck.

“Are you wearing make-up?” Eddie says, faintly baffled, and Dustin sees the exact moment that he recognises the mark for what it is, because his eyes widen. “Oh, Jesus.”

Dustin uselessly tries to cover it up with his hand. “It’s—it’s fine, it didn’t even—”

But his words die away at the sight of Eddie’s rapidly paling face.

Stop it, Dustin almost wants to say. Between everything that Eddie and Steve have… this is nothing.

He doesn’t expect Eddie bursting into tears.

“Oh God,” Eddie’s saying, and his breathing’s all wrong, “Dustin, please, please don’t—” But it’s like the words are choking him, like he can only stare at Dustin’s neck as if the world is ending.

The front door opening. Steve’s voice echoing, calling out a questioning greeting.

“Hey? You in the kitchen?”

Dustin moves quickly, shoves past Eddie.

“Dustin,” Eddie says again, loud in his panic, “d-don’t go, come on—”

He knows precisely when Steve can hear the fact that Eddie is crying, because his footsteps are rapid on the stairs, speech just as quick and frantic, “What happened, what happened?”

Dustin briefly feels Steve’s hand close around his elbow, “Hey, hey, what’s—?”, but he wrenches himself free. Runs down the stairs as fast as he can, stumbles on the last step.

He feels his ankle give way, and his heart is suddenly pounding like he’s back in The Upside Down—and he lies there, guilt and embarrassment in every heaving breath he takes.

#dustin henderson fic #eddie and dustin #steve and dustin #henderfam #steddie with dustin’s pov #steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steve x eddie #dustin henderson #eddie munson #steve harrington #2 parts i said! like a fool! (this happens every time)#homophobia cw

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ohforficsakelibrary · 5 months

Text

Woodsmoke

masterlist

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Gender Neutral Reader. No physical descriptions of reader beyond having hair. Reader has a cat. Established but new-ish, implied long-distance-ish relationship.

Summary: Life has been running you ragged lately, but someone is waiting for you when you get home. For a moment, you don't have to be strong.

Trigger Warnings: Mentions of difficult family life, attending therapy, absent parents, wounded inner child, loneliness as a general theme. If I've missed anything, please do tell me.

Word Count: ~1.6K

Rating: General? Two curse words and some kissin'. The remainder of my work is 18+ / minors DNI.

A/N: I do not know about y'all but I have been going through it lately. And Frankie Morales is my comfort character. This is not along the lines of my usual writing, and for that reason, I haven't tagged anyone. But I'm sharing it on the off chance that you, like me, just need a hug. I know this time of year isn't the easiest for a lot of us, and I hope maybe this gives you a little comfort. Comfort!Frankie, if you will. Please heed the warnings and read with care.

You are worthy of love.

You don’t have time to cry.

Not right now, on this highway, snowflakes flying towards you like crystalline stars at a speed twenty miles per hour slower than the speed you’d be moving at if they weren’t.

You can’t see the lines on the road even without tears in your eyes.

One thing at a time.

Like everything lately.

Just follow the tracks of the car in front of you until it gets you home.

Home to your house that’s empty save for a grumpy tabby cat.

Most days you swear your existence hinges on his.

He’s been your thing to look forward to for the last fifteen years.

Well, and Frankie is visiting this week.

Provided that this storm doesn’t shut the airport down.

Fuck.

It’s not that you hadn’t been doing well without him.

It’s that you hadn’t been doing well.

Too long without a mental break. Exhaustion that seeps with the cold into your bones.

Too many things on a to-do list that you can’t bring yourself to do on the weekends because it’s too long and your own time is so short.

Maybe it’s some malefic arrangement of stars and planets, perhaps.

You haven’t even started buying holiday gifts.

And it sends you face-first into the dread of making a trip back home.

The place that was supposed to be your home.

And dread is the correct word, even if your therapist says you're making real progress.

See, the thing is, your therapist doesn’t have to sit in the contents of the box of shit you dug out from the corner of your brain and emptied all over the floor of your mind.

She only helps you sort through it every other Tuesday.

It was in the box for a reason.

It was easier to carry that way.

_____

When finally you pull into your driveway and step out into fresh snow, it’s the smell that hits you first.

Woodsmoke.

Someone has started up the wood stove so that you don’t go cold, but you hadn’t been expecting company. You figure it’s your best friend who has a key and a standing invitation, and you’re not necessarily opposed to them being here.

Sharing a bottle of wine would probably do you some good.

You stomp snow from your shoes and step inside to offer your layers to the hooks on the wall of the mudroom before you catch sight of the boots in the tray as you toe yours off.

“Frankie?!”

“One sec, babe!”

Frankie.

You wrench open the door that leads through to the kitchen and catch sight of him in front of the sink where he’s draining steaming water from a pot of pasta.

He looks up at you across the kitchen and winks.

“Frankie,” you breathe and he quickly pops the pot back onto a dead burner, slinging oven mitts off a fraction of a second before you collide with his chest.

“Baby,” he whispers, locking you in with an arm around the small of your back and the other at the nape of your neck.

He smells of woodsmoke and cedar and Frankie.

Smells like home.

“You weren’t supposed to be here for another two days,” you pull back and look up into brown eyes framed by mirth-filled creases.

“I was keeping an eye on the weather,” he urges you against him again to nuzzle into your hair, “didn’t want to wait. There’s another front coming behind this one. Took an Uber from the airport. Got in about an hour ago.”

Pilots and their forecasts.

“I’m glad you didn’t wait.”

“So am I,” he tilts your chin up and presses his lips to yours. Soft and sweet. Perfect.

“I made pasta, thought you’d be hungry when you got in.” He grins against your mouth before turning back to the stove to stir tomato sauce. “There wasn’t much in the fridge, but there’s plenty for tonight.” Frankie turns off the burner.

And it’s so new, having a man in your kitchen.

Making you dinner.

“Yeah, I’m sorry, I haven’t had the chance to go to the store,” you rake a hand through your hair as he winds a corkscrew into a bottle of wine.

So new, having arms to fall into.

“Don't apologize, babe. We’ll go tomorrow,” he sneaks another kiss as he fills your glass, one hand absently rubbing your back as he does. “Oh, I also fed the cat,” he points to stacked tins of cat food near the fridge, “from that, hope that was okay,” he fills his own glass. “He was hungry and he was insisting on spaghetti but I figured that’s not…”

“Thank you.”

It’s not more than a trembling whisper.

Because you’re fighting back tears.

This man warmed your house and poured you wine and fed your cat and made you a meal.

Because he cares.

Someone cares.

For you.

“Oh, hey no no no, cariño, what’s wrong?” He replaces his glass on the counter and cups your face in one massive palm.

Soothing with a gentle thumb over your cheekbone.

“This is so nice,” you breathe and the tears finally blur his face. “I just—no one has ever done this for me before.”

It leaves your mouth slowly, like you're not even sure if you can say it.

If you're allowed.

Your view is quickly replaced by the grey and red of his sweater.

“There’s nothing I’d rather do, baby.”

And it makes your chest heave with the sobs you can’t hold in any longer as you wrap your arms around his waist, sinking into the way he presses you tighter against his heart.

The wool of his jumper eager to collect all of the tears you haven’t had time to cry.

Because time stands still here, wrapped tight in his embrace.

And Francisco isn’t afraid of your mess.

“It’s okay, baby. You’re okay.”

He doesn’t ask.

Instead, he tiptoes around the debris of that box to where you weep in the center of the chaos.

To where the child sits with hot tears streaming down their face.

And he looks straight into the heart of you with eyes as soft as the toy you clutch to your chest for comfort.

And offers himself instead.

He offers the breadth of his chest and the strong panes of his back. The vice grip of his arms and the gentle soothing of a palm.

He offers his whole self.

In the stead of the affection you were never given and so learned too well to do without.

In the stead of the wire-framed mother.

In the stead of the shell that should have been a father.

In the stead of all of the unkind words you clung to in the belief that they must be true.

For why else would they not love a child in the way that a child needs love?

For why else were you left lonely for so long?

And the back of your throat goes sore with the burn of his kindness.

Kindness that you still don’t believe you deserve.

“Put it down, baby. Let it go.”

Where Life asked you to soothe yourself.

“I’m here.”

Life offers him to you now.

For Life, it seems, has taken pity on you.

Or perhaps It grew weary of how your grief made It ache.

“I’m here now.”

And so It proffered this apology.

One that you accept in the form of skin and muscle. Bones and blood.

A soft-hearted one with big kind eyes.

And Frankie holds you until the sobbing eases.

And thumbs the tears from your lashes.

Plush lips soften into a crooked smile.

"Are you hungry, cariño?" Whispered softly.

"Yeah," you murmur because you suppose you are.

"Can we sit by the wood stove?" He turns you towards the living room and lays a kiss at the crown of your head.

"Yeah, yeah of course."

"Good, because it's fucking freezing." And that finally pulls a laugh from your throat. "Go on," he smacks you lightly on the bum, "I'll bring you a plate."

You grab both glasses of wine and toss a few throw pillows on the floor before Frankie settles next to you with two shallow bowls heaped with pasta.

_____

When you've finished dinner, plates stacked on the coffee table, cat napping on a throw pillow near the pair of you, Frankie sits back against the sofa and pulls you to sit at his side.

"I'm sorry that I..."

"No," Frankie cuts you off and wraps an arm around your shoulders. "Don't ever apologize to me for feeling, baby."

And you stare down into the dregs of your wine.

"Promise," he prompts with a nudge of his arm.

You look up at him through tired, but grateful eyes. "I promise, Frankie."

"Good," and he kisses you slowly, all warm lips and soft moans.

He regales you with stories from his latest trip until you settle in against him, head tucked under his chin. Lulled by the rise and fall of his breath.

You let him hold you here, with one arm wrapped around your shoulders.

Safe by the gentle heat of a dying fire.

You'll be yourself again tomorrow.

But tonight you allow yourself this.

Frankie kisses into your hairline as you drift between this word and sleep. Your weight against him is soothing as he finishes the last of the wine, eyes trained on the windows beyond, tracking the path of snowflakes on their way to meet the earth again.

"Te comprendo, cariño," he murmurs, resting his cheek against your crown.

"Y creo que te amo."

#frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x gn!reader #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal #tw: loneliness #ohforficsake #I definitely cried while writing this #so I'm sorry if there are mistakes #this was wholly unplanned

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thatsthewrongwallcraig · 8 months

Text

Training Wheels

Summary: It’s all or nothing on this Sunday night…

Pairing: virgin!Gabriel x nurse!fem!Reader

Word Count: - 3.6k

Content Warnings: Psych Ward Smut 18+!, Unprotected P In V, Cock-Warming, Gabe Eventually Losing His V-Card, Hints Of Body Worship, Nipple Sucking, Reader Is Having A Lil’ Breakdown, Angsty On Reader’s Part, Crying, Hurt/Comfort But The Other Way Around This Time, So Much Unintentional Manipulation, Gabe’s Delusions Gaining A Lot Of Momentum, Oh The Co-Dependency, Awkward Idiots In Love

A/N: *inaudible screeching* The grand final 🖤

Find The Other Parts Here!

Tagging the horny horde:

@crypticsewerslut @quicksilversg1rl @cc-luvr @icarus-star @milaeth @roryculkinsgf @spookyorchid @arch1viste @whoareyoi @angelsanarchy @blueberrypancakesworld @rocketqueen-world @lifelessvessel @doddernix @svgarcaine @amayalul @basementgrl222 @kristennero-wallacewellsver @iiheartsai @fan-goddess @shady-the-simp

I love everything you do

When you call me fucking dumb for the stupid shit I do

Wanna ride my bike with you

Fully undressed, no training wheels left for you

And I'll pull them off for you

- Training Wheels By Melanie Martinez

Sunday evening, the clock gradually ticked towards 10:30 P.M.

Tick tack. Tick tack. Tick tack. The clock hand moved a tiny bit further with every second that passed by with the dull, metallic sound echoing in your ears whilst your teeth nibbled around the aluminum edge of your halfway-empty Red Bull can. Everything was as usual yet nothing felt like it did before this weekend. Something had changed, shifted deep within you and it felt as if all that was oozing out onto the cold, loveless and gray linoleum floors of Ward 4 now. Borderline paranoid, you felt caught by everybody who had looked at you today. The clerk, the lovely, elderly lady in front of you in line at the supermarket and especially your colleagues from the day shift you took over from…it was in their eyes, a tell-tale flicker of judgment and disgust towards you. The only reaction you deserved for your actions and that you were well aware of. However, you couldn’t stop, couldn’t save either of you especially not sweet Gabriel from the thrashing hunger festering in your insides.

It corrupted your senses from the inside out, taking over in moments when you should’ve applied better judgment to stop this thing from getting out of control. Instead, you had watched it derailing further and further with every longingly stolen kiss, every brush over your fingers against his skin and every needy, little moan of his you had soaked up oh so willingly, allowing it to fill your very own emptiness and to patch up all the putrescent holes in your heart little by little.

The metallic clanking of your bottom teeth against the silver and blue aluminum can nearly entranced you as it mixed in with the clacking of the clock behind you. Gnawing away onto your bottom lip, the insides of your cheeks or your cuticles soon hadn’t been enough stimulation anymore, not enough dull repetition for your racing mind to zone out to it and now that little, chewed-up can was your lifeline. Maybe you should just quit your job already, hand in your two-weeks-notice and fuck right off. Gabriel would be in shambles, yes, and so would you, but you’d get over it in time…no? Wouldn’t you? Eventually, Gabe would be back on track too, maybe he’d forget you and everything that happened here over the years, maybe it all would fade into blissful oblivion in a med-induced haze that would keep him calm and sedated enough to be happy again.

No, stop, what the fuck? What were you thinking? There was no way you could just weasel your own ass out of this before it all blew up in your face. This situation here was your fuck-up and yours all alone, poor Gabe had nothing to do with you being too damn dense and full of yourself to do your job, your catastrophic shortcomings. With your back slightly swinging back and forth in your chair, you bit down harder on the can, teeth digging dents into the metal whilst a deep sight rolled over your tongue.

“Such a pretentious little fuck…” You groaned to yourself and very much at yourself somewhere between laughing and crying out about the sheer absurdity of it all.

Right underneath the thin cotton fabric of your mint-green scrubs, you felt the material of carefully picked lingerie smooth against your skin.

Black lace sewn in between satin straps and little bows to form an intricate design, the good shit that you only dug from your closet for the worthy occasions. Thinking about it, the last time you had worn that black lace set in particular was months ago on one of the few nights you’d allowed yourself to get carried away at the bar. A few gin tonic’s down the line, a shallow conversation with the dude right there with you at the counter and the very next thing you knew was a very sloppy and below-average fuck in a creaky toilet stall.

From toilet stalls to psych ward dorms… wow, really fucking your way upwards, huh? Your bottom lip quivered against the cold metal as you noticed yourself blinking for the first time in minutes, eyes burning in dehydration as you straightened your back and kept your eyes shut for a moment, allowing a layer of moisture to soothe the burning sensation. With your senses turned inward, it seemed like glaring right at the scene of the crime. You felt the war raging inside of your chest, the need to get your shit together fighting the urge to just swipe Gabriel off his shaky feet and have him your way, professional scrubs rubbing against seductive lace at any given moment tonight.

“Fuck this shit.” Letting your shoulders slump down, you reluctantly opened your eyes back to the cold, white light of Ward 4.

It was now or never. By tomorrow you had a few days off to recover before you’d start your next cycle of night shifts next Friday and, perhaps, by then all the tension would be gone, swallowed up by the unwelcoming smell of disinfectant and bleach cleaners emitting from sterile walls. The possibility of Gabe cracking under the nosey questioning of his therapists wasn’t too far off as well and you felt your stomach coiling up at the thought of it going south like this. You had to make a decision sooner than later, that much you knew, and you tried to get yourself to move by emptying out the can of sugary-sweet energy drink. The bubbly liquid gushed down your throat leaving an aftertaste that indicated dental damage and heart failure but that didn’t faze you just in the slightest, already way too uptight with the thought of what you were about to do.

“It’ll be fine…”, You muttered to yourself, fingers rubbing over your slightly sore eyes, “He wants it…fuck, craves it and you want it, too. Consensual, right? Nobody has to know…”

Haphazardly pep-talking yourself through it was a weak attempt but better than just freezing into your chair, allowing hesitation and anxiety to gradually knock the air from your lungs with every passing minute.

“Everything will be fine…”, You breathed out aloud but continued the rest of the sentence in your thoughts, “Everything will be fine as soon as you feel his lips on yours, washing all that scum out of your brain…it’ll all just go away…Gabe will make it go away…”

Repeating that to yourself over and over again in your mind, you pulled yourself out of the bureau chair, your legs nearly faltering upon the first hasty steps down the hallway.

“Gabe?”, You softly made yourself known by a few knocks against his door, “Can I come in?”

“Sure!” Gabriel quipped right back from the other side, the jolly smile on his lips already audible to you.

“Hey…” You reciprocated his smile with a rather cranky one of yours after you stepped into his room, the light on his nightstand somberly illuminating the walls in a warm shine.

“Are you…okay?”, He asked softly, putting the book down from his hands whilst scooting closer to the edge of his mattress, “Your face, it’s a bit pale, if I may say so.”

“I’m…I-...uh..”; You desperately tried to get something coherent out of your mouth but your voice was breaking and trailing off with every shaky attempt, “I- I..fuck. My head, so full of thoughts.”

The last mumbled words trickled from your lips and with them, everything felt like falling out of control simultaneously, a sniffled sob breaking free from your lungs whilst white-hot tears started rolling down your cheeks.

“Oh, no….no,no,no… what’s going on?” Gabriel stammered in an overwhelmed hectic, practically jumping from the bed and rushing towards your trembling form to cradle you in a warm and impossibly close embrace.

“It’s not your fault…none of this is, fuck…”, It just cascaded out of your mouth without any aim to your words, “I fucked up, Gabe. We shouldn’t..none of this should’ve happened…”

Your breathless cries got muffled by the soft fabric of his shirt that covered his torso, long sleeves pulled up to his knuckles for maximum comfort.

“Why would you say something like that?”, Gabe inquired, the former ease and happiness drawn from his tone, “You said…you said that you love me. W- what’s wrong about that now?”

“Nothing, Gabriel…nothing is wrong about that, I promise you, I promise. It’s just…I fucked things up for both of us, angel face, I really did.” Trying to catch your breath, you pushed your head into his embrace, helplessly nuzzling your face into the curve of his shoulder, lips brushing over his skin right atop the collar while you breathed him in.

“No…no, no, no…you didn’t mess up anything. Didn’t mess me up, only made me better…is me loving you not making anything better?” You knew that he only intended to help but right now his words cut even deeper into you.

“Gabe…Gabriel…please, it has nothing to do with that. It’s the fact that we’re trapped in here until someone finds out and then we’re fucked. Fucked, Gabe, fucked!” Your fingers clawed at his sides while you whimpered into the crook of his neck.

“Nobody will find out, I promise. I-...I’ll get better and then I’m going to get out of here and…and then we can go wherever we want, yeah?” Gabriel was fighting with his own tears at this point, his voice brittle and trembling.

Unironically and in a rather cruel way this posed very much as the only option in which things could perhaps, somehow work out…if Gabriel, in fact, got better, better in taking his meds, better in not lashing out like a little boy, and much much much better at lying to his therapists.

“You gonna get better, yeah?” Gabe nodded into the embrace, carefully guiding you away from the door behind you to gingerly sit you down on the bed next to him, the mattress still warm from his body resting there prior to all this.

“Hey, look at me.”, He requested in a soft tone and you did, eyes meeting his shyly, “I’m going to get better, pinky promise. Then, I’ll get out of here…we’ll work it out but don’t underestimate me.”

A mischievous glint flickered through his eyes as a smile tugged at his lips for them to slightly curl upwards.

“I’d never…” You sniffled, wiping the last vagrant tears from your face, breathing heavily.

“Good. Then I need you to trust me to handle some things. Do you trust me?” His gaze was soft yet stern with anticipation toward your answer.

“Yeah, I-...I trust you.” You nodded, validating your words.

“Okay, good. Then we’ll work it out somehow.” Gabe inhaled deeply before mentally washing all the anxiety out of his body by exhaling again, a learned therapy skill… and a good one at that.

Just like two nights ago, Gabriel raised his hand up to his lips, mimicking the movements of a key turning in a lock before tossing it to the side.

“Nobody will hear a single thing about this, I promise. Nobody but you.” Gabe smiled before leaning in, planting a tender kiss to your lips as his hands searched for yours.

With the welcoming feeling of his plush lips against yours, you practically melted into his caress, your fingers being guided by Gaberiel’s to the seam of his sweater, invited to slip them right underneath the cozy fabric and that you did. Your fingers searched hungrily for the warmth of his body, the sensation of his incredibly soft skin under your fingertips getting soaked up by you immediately.

“It’s going to be okay…I just know it. Come here, been waiting and thinking about you all day long.” Gabe hummed against your mouth, eliciting a soft smile to form around yours.

“It’s gotten kinda hard to think about anything else lately…” You confessed, the palms of your hands cupping his sides whilst slowly wandering upwards.

“I could say that I’m sorry about that but that would be me lying to you.”, He laughed out softly, the tip of his nose stroking upwards over the bridge of yours until his lips gingerly pressed down on your forehead, peppering a playful wash of smooches to it, “And I don’t do that, no no.”

Just the way you had told yourself, being around him, finally close to him like that again, flushed all the bad feelings and thoughts out of your system, your chest filling with a comfortable warmth instead and you took every single shred of comfort you possibly could from him.

“I missed you, Gabe. Everything out there suddenly feels weird…meaningless if I’m not in here with you, you know?” You didn’t expect him to understand and in some way, you felt sorry for him to mention the world outside the facility.

“Even in here, it’s pretty dull without you now. Don’t get me started on how boring the day shift staff is…and the food? Ugh…” His comment made the both of you chuckle for a moment.

“Maybe I can sneak in a proper chocolate milkshake for you next week, Gabe.” At that he pulled his head away from you, searching for your gaze with glacier-blue eyes sparkling in nothing but pure joy.

“You’d do that for me?” You nodded vigorously.

“Of course, I would. Can’t let you hang in here without a little treat, no?”, You smiled back, the anxiety-fueled thoughts from not so long ago rapidly crumbling into oblivion, leaving your entire body feeling elevated with a slowly forming desire for more of him, “Speaking of it, I might be bringing a little treat with me for you already…”

Gabriel's eyes grew even wider in almost boyish excitement.

“Uh, show me, pretty please?” He quipped, his smile turning into a slightly agape grin that showed off his pearly whites.

“How about you feel it first?”, You couldn’t help yourself but to bite down on your bottom lip a little, “How about you sneak that pretty hand of your right underneath my shirt and let your fingers wander up a bit, hm?”

“Oh…okay…” A tell-tale surge of red crept up into Gabe’s cheeks as he reached out to slip his hand to where you guided it, the tender tips of his fingers caressing over your stomach up to the curve of your breasts, reaching the lacey-soft fabric causing him to suck the air in harshly.

“That…uh, that feels pretty.” He stammered a little clumsily.

“It feels pretty?” You snickered, watching the color in his face change into an even deeper tint of red.

“Yeah, uhm, or not?” His fingers explored the piece of cloth further, grazing over the plenty of satin strings cupping the rounds of your cleavage and stroking over the plenty of small bowtie details.

“Well, if it already feels pretty to you, I bet it’ll look pretty as well.” You noticed it getting harder to hold yourself back from not simply jumping him, but you kept it together, drawing your hands from his back to pull the top of your scrubs off your torso.

“It sure does look pretty, too!” Gabriel stammered coyly, looking right at your breasts, mesmerized by the sight in front of him.

With a sly grin tugging at your lips, you tossed the top to the ground before leaning in and whispering: “The panties are just as nice, I can assure you!”

“You…you put all that on f-for me?” You nodded your head after the question had left his lips.

“Sure did…I- I uhm…”, You started stumbling over your own words a little as well, “I wanted to make it a little special for you, you know.”

“To make what special?” Gabriel blurted right out and with that, you felt the heat climbing into your cheeks too.

Oh, good lord, you swallowed awkwardly whilst looking at him, the words in your throat clumping into an embarrassed, dry lump.

“I…”, You haphazardly cleared your throat, “I…I’d like to be with you tonight, Gabe. I mean, i-if that’s what you want as well, of course.”

For an excruciatingly long moment, Gabriel simply stared at you rather dumbfounded, lips halfway agape and eyebrows softly knit together.

“Do you-?” You cut him off right there and then.

“Yes!” It shot out of your mouth, your free hand grabbing for the collar of his sweater to pull him towards you.

In an uncoordinated mess out of busily fumbling limbs, Gabe tilted into your front, heavy breaths filling the room whilst the two of you shimmied out of the remaining clothes until he halted, resting between your legs, his skin glowing in a warm hue with the soft light emitting from the lamp on his nightstand. You watched his former confidence crumble away, eyes trained on your lingerie and cheeks colored in a deep red as Gabriel discovered the little special that your slip held.

“Oh, that’s…inviting…” He murmured, his face leaning in to shamelessly latch right onto one of your lace-covered nipples.

Exhaling a pleasure-filled moan, you allowed your head to loll into the flat, hospital-like pillow, a warm rush washing through your entire body as you felt his mouth closing down around your perked-up nub, the warm and wet tip of his tongue lapping at it.

“Thought you might like that.” You pushed out from between slightly trembling lips, your eyes helplessly fluttering shut whilst you felt him pushing his lap closer to your exposed cunt in that slightly slutty, crotch-free string of yours.

This time, unlike last night, you endorsed the thought of wrapping your legs around his waist to pull him into you, however, before you guided Gabriel to push into you, you let your hands roam along his neck to his head, fingers grazing through glossy hazel-brown hair and carefully asking: “You okay with this?”

“Uh-huh…”, Gabe whined back, the tip of his pulsing cock prodding right between your thoroughly soaked folds and against your entrance, “Wanna feel you so bad, please!”

His pleading tone vibrated against your breast, pushing your senses right over the edge to pull him into you.

“Oh…oh, fuck, oh fuck, damn…shit…”, The words fell from lips in an aimless avalanche, “God, fuck, you’re so warm, shit…f-feels so fucking good…”

You bit down on your bottom lip feeling him thrusting into you, stretching you out just right with his hard-on, a ripple of brain-deafening bliss jolting through you.

“There, there…” Your hands shot down to his hips to hold him in place for a moment, calming him down as you felt him twitching inside you already.

“Fuck, sorry, feels so so so good…” Gabriel mewled with his temple pressed against your collarbone.

“It’s okay, angel face, don’t you worry. Feels good for me too.” You assured him, still holding him in place, cock-warming him for a little while, allowing him to get used to the feeling of being nestled into you down to his shaft.

“Hmhmm…wanna make you happy and satisfied, too.” Gabe whimpered, trying to move in your grasp but to no avail.

“Oh, don’t you worry about any of that, angel face. Just enjoy yourself, hm?” You lovingly cooed into his hairline, reluctantly loosening your grip for him to roll his hips into you at his own pace again.

“Mhmmm…. ‘m trying to, god, fuck….you feel so fucking good!” His warm breath breezed over your lace-covered tits.

“Such a good boy for me.” You huffed out, calves still tightly wrapped around his hips.

“Your good boy!” Gabriel groaned right back, thrusting into you again.

“Hmhm, you’re my good boy, Gabriel.” You encouraged him to let himself go wild with your body for his own pleasure and that he did.

“L-love you so much, shit…mmmhmmm…” You didn’t miss his cock pulsing and twitching against your walls, thick, pent-up ropes of his cum filling your insides as Gabriel’s body turned rigid above yours during one, final stroke, “Oh, fuck, so warm and tight...”

Breathing in deeply, he very much collapsed onto you, hiding his flushed face in the crook of your neck.

“I love you too, Gabe.” You planted a deep kiss on his slightly sweaty forehead, the salty taste of it slowly seeping into your mouth.

“We’re gonna get out of here somehow, no?” Gabriel murmured into your skin, nuzzling his lips right onto your pulse point.

For a moment as the painful reality of things hit you again, you swallowed hard, moving your body to cradle his.

“Yeah, we gonna make it out of here somehow…”

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oonajaeadira · 2 months

Text

State of the WIP Address

I haven't been tumbling the past few days just due to madness happening all at once--an evening work meetings, applying for a show in the fall, landing another gig this summer, turning down one in between, planning two different trips at the same time, coordinating talent for our annual fundraiser, getting up ungodly early (8am? who does this) for other meetings and adding that to my pile of daylights savings messing with my sleep and sending me to bed earlier than usual.... And I'm going to be at a conference (a witch conference!) this weekend, so I wanted to get some things squared at home and finish a commissioned altarpiece for someone I'm going to be talking to there. Hence me also posting this on a Thursday when I'd rather do Fridays......

Madness. And it's only Thursday.

Completed this week: nothing. But I have been writing....

STATE OF THE WIP

Leave Off Your Wandering: Winter We're about 1K in. The fluffy part. Shit's about to go down.

Fluffbruary Yeah, I'm still doing this. At my own pace.

Losing My Religion Plotting out some chapters actually. Surprised?

Modern!dom Pero Almost finished

Alpha!Javi Stuck.

PATS On hold for a hot second, but thots have happened.

I've got a lot of balls in the air at once over here and it's causing me some chaos. Please bear with my while I sort out all my tails.

#state of the wip address #state of the wip

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angelsanarchy · 10 months

Text

One Long Weekend: - Clyde/YN One-Shot Series CH 05

"Thanks for letting me stay." "Thanks for staying."

Tagged: @roryculkinluvr Let me know if you want to be tagged in these updates.

SATURDAY, 2:15AM

Y/n looked at herself in the dirty mirror of Clyde's bathroom. The shirt he had given her fell to about the middle of her thigh. She silently wished she had at least worn shorts today so she would be more comfortable sleeping with something on her legs. When she walked out of the bathroom, Clyde had tossed a pillow onto the couch.

"So I can't guarantee the last time I cleaned the sheets but I did just wash the comforter so you should be good to go." Y/n looked over to the bed and realized he was giving up his bed for her.

"Clyde, I can't take your bed. The couch will be fine." Y/n tried to argue but he laughed.

"Trust me, the bed is much safer to sleep on than the couch. Especially if you have your legs exposed." Clyde took in the sight of you in one of the oversized band shirts he kept laying around the apartment.

"I guess I'll take your word for it. I'll make a mental note to burn my jeans once I get home." Y/n teased. Clyde had changed into soft pants but kept the same shirt on. He walked over to the door and made sure she was watching when he locked the door.

"Are you feeling safer already?" Clyde asked running his hand through his hair.

"I should be asking you that. Sorry about the whole...mauling you thing." Y/n could feel the heat in her cheeks and Clyde laughed.

"Mauling me? You sat on my lap. That's hardly grounds for public shaming." Clyde shrugged it off plopping back down on the couch. Y/n sat next to him, feeling much more exposed now that her legs were bare.

"I guess thanks for not holding it against me. I don't do this a lot...ever actually. I haven't spent a night away from my apartment in years, let alone with a guy I met at a club." Y/n explained seeing Clyde smile.

"You don't go home with guys who aren't even in the band to get high and have an impromptu date?" Clyde teased.

"No this is very out of the ordinary. I'm usually working my ass off or visiting my dad." Y/n confessed.

"You seem a little young to be a workaholic." Clyde wanted to know everything about her. He wanted to know what she liked, what she hated, why the hell she had given him the time of day and how he could get her to stay.

"Paying for an apartment and trying to keep my shit a float has been a bit more challenging than I'd like to admit. I wasn't really prepared to support myself at 18 but when you drop out of school and have no where else to go, it's kind of the only option." Y/n didn't like to talk about her home life. She hated when people showed her any sort of pity. She was in control of the decisions she made.

She dropped out of school to take care of her dad. She moved into a shitty apartment with a roommate in order to save money to afford his care facility. She could count on one hand how many people she trusted and confiding in Clyde didn't make a lot of sense to her either but she just felt like she could openly be herself with him.

"Hey dropout twins, let's go!" Clyde held his hand up for a high five and y/n shook her head meeting his hand.

"I'm not sure that's the thing we should have in common but I won't leave you hanging." Y/n laughed.

"Maybe it's not. We both seem to like live music. I don't want to get into favorite bands just yet because I don't want to lose this feeling I currently have." Clyde put his hand over his heart.

"Hey! What makes you think I like shit music? I happen to have a very eclectic taste in music." Y/n defended but Clyde put his finger to his lips.

"I'm not doubting that but we've had such a great first date, why chance it with the possibility of you liking Nickelback?" Clyde joked earning a playful slap to his chest.

"How dare you. Now I'm truly offended. I think I'm going to go see if Johnny will give me a ride-" Clyde reached out and grabbed y/n's hand.

"No no...if you approach Johnny without pants and ask for a ride, you'll definitely get more than you bargained for." Clyde seemed genuinely worried she was going to actually leave but instead she plopped back down next to Clyde, closer than before, him still holding onto her hand.

"If I had my pants on, I'd consider tasering you just for insinuating I was a Nickelback fan." Clyde softened and held your hand between his own, bringing the back of your fingers to his lips.

"My apologies. Thank you for resisting the reoccurring urge to taser me." Clyde's smile was intoxicating. She just wanted to feel his lips pull into a smile against her own.

"You're just lucky you're cute." Y/n tested seeing Clyde blush. She could feel a yawn crawling up her throat as she turned away and Clyde stood up, pulling her by her hands.

"You need to sleep. We can compare playlists tomorrow over breakfast...stale bagels or donuts?" Clyde asked leading her to the bed. She sat down and he tossed her a blanket.

"You know how to spoil a girl." Y/n grinned laying back on the comforter. It smelled of coconut shampoo and cigarettes. It wasn't an awful smell which was surprising. Rarely did she ever find herself surrounded by band guys who smelt halfway decent. Clyde jumped over the back of the couch and let out a heavy sigh.

The two of them laid in perfect silence, trying not to breathe too hard or start snoring randomly. Y/n moved around under the blanket trying to get comfortable and not get caught checking over by the couch where Clyde laid, one leg dangling over the back, arm stretched behind his head. Clyde felt tense. He hadn't ever just had a girl spend the night with him. Snow, Lola and the rest of their friends were different. None of them really looked at him the way y/n seemed to look at him, or flirt with him. He didn't want to make things weird or fuck this up. He wanted her to like him. He wanted her to want to stay because of him, not because she was hot for one of the guys.

"Clyde?" Y/n broke the silence.

"Yeah?" He sat up to see her sitting up in the bed.

"Would you be completely opposed to just laying in the bed next to me? I just...its a big bed. There's no point in you sleeping on the couch and I don't want to wake up freaking out in a strange place." Y/n explained and Clyde shook his head.

"Yeah of course. I just didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable." Clyde walked over to the bed and laid down next to her carefully. He let her keep the blanket over herself and put his hand up when she tried to offer it to him. He laid on his side facing her and she smiled at him.

"Thanks for letting me stay." She said softly.

"Thanks for staying." Clyde returned equally as soft. The light in the room was dim but they could still see one another clearly. Y/n reached over and pushed some of Clyde's hair off his face and noticed his hearing aid for the second time this evening.

"How do sleep with your hearing aid in? My grandfather never kept his in to sleep. He said the slightest noises startled him." Y/n brushed her fingertips over the piece and Clyde brought his fingers up to hers.

"Um...I don't usually sleep really well anyway so I just don't bother taking it out." She was right. Clyde never took his aid out when he was sleeping in the apartment. Anyone could just sort of bust in and he never wanted to be caught off guard.

"Have you tried taking it out to sleep? Maybe that's why you can't sleep well." Y/n suggested.

"I used to at my Dad's but not here. You never know who'll sneak up on you." Clyde tried to joke but y/n scooted closer.

"The door is locked. I'm a light sleeper. Why not just taking it out while you have someone here to watch your back?" Clyde was surprised at her offer. No one really cared this much about his lack of sleep, let alone his comfort level.

"No pressure of course. I just...I want you to be able to be as comfortable as I am." Y/n didn't want to push Clyde into doing something he wasn't comfortable with but to her surprise, he leaned over her and removing his aid placing it on the nightstand next to her. She felt the trust he was putting into her by taking his aid out. She put her pinky out and Clyde laughed locking his pinky into hers.

"I gotchu." She mouthed. Clyde laughed shaking his head.

"I'm partially deaf, not completely deaf." He reminded laying back down. The silence that grew between them was so much more peaceful now. Y/n could feel the mattress moving whenever he moved, which wasn't a lot but after a while she could hear his soft snores. She peered over his shoulder and saw his mouth hung open, hair covering his face and his elbow as his arm stayed tucked tightly under his head. She glanced at the clock on her phone that barely had 20% charge on it and saw that it was 3:10 AM. That was the last thing she saw before she passed out, snuggled into a fuzzy blanket and a soft pillow that carried Clyde's scent into her dreams.

#electrick children #Clyde x y/n #Clyde #rory culkin #One Long Weekend Series #One Shot Series #y/n fics #5/18

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ejunkiet · 1 year

Text

me and the devil

another angst-leaning prompt fill... hurt/comfort for the soul, okay.

redacted audio: asher/babe, some mature themes.

content warnings: it's implied, but not explicitly stated, that Babe was once claimed by a demon associated with negative feelings (i.e. depression)

Asher saves his mate from a demon’s claim.

“Stay behind me, babe.”

READ ON AO3

me and the devil

He can sense something is off when he reaches their apartment.

There’s a somberness there, that he doesn’t associate with them. It’s quiet, too quiet, he realises - they usually filled their rooms with music, or conversation with friends, never this silence.

They’ve had a rough week, he figures, as he helps them pack up their laptop, shrugging off their apologies with a soft laugh and a smile. But that’s why he’s here, to cheer them up.

And he does. The date goes well. Coffee, at their favourite shop. It’s becoming their place, together - a routine for the start of their weekend. Their smile gets brighter and brighter as time goes by, until they’re laughing with him, and it fills him with warmth.

(They’re beautiful when they laugh.)

But still, there’s something… not quite right. The feeling comes to a head when they’re leaving the cafe, walking back to their apartment, when his instincts tell him to stop.

His senses are on full alert, and he can feel the aspects of his wolf on the edges of it, his eyesight sharper than usual, unbidden. There’s something here, his instincts are telling him. You are not alone.

“Stay behind me, babe.”

He turns, catching their gaze - and their eyes are glassy, lethargic. He reaches out to take their hand, and their fingers cool within his, chilled by the night air.

“Babe?”

They hum an acknowledgement, but the sound is soft, faint, as if they’re falling asleep on their feet, except it’s three in the afternoon and they’d just had a coffee date.

A flicker of panic rises in his chest, and he steps closer to them, his hand raising to cup their cheek, a part of him revelling at the way they lean into his touch - before there’s a ripple in the air before him, and shit.

He can taste the sharp bite of unfamiliar magic, before the demon shudders into visibility, their cloak slipping away like oil over water, revealing a tall, shadowed form, pale eyes gleaming through the darkness.

Hello, little wolf.

His instincts are screaming at him as he shifts, placing himself between them and the threat. The demon huffs at that, a little puff of air, and Ash realises then that it hadn’t spoken aloud, instead sliding the words into his mind.

He’s painfully aware of his partner’s uninformed status - it’s only been a handful of months - a few incredible months, and it already feels as if they’ve changed his life forever.

What do you want?

Pale eyes flicker past him, focusing just past his shoulder, and his grip on his partner’s hand tightens as he shifts on his feet, adjusting his position until they’re out of view.

You have my Charge.

My Charge. The words sink into him and the pieces click into place, that strange feeling he’d been getting around them lately, that edge to their smile when he sees them again for the first time in a few days, as if their energy had been sapped away.

It’d ease, after a while of them being together, that light returning to their beautiful eyes - but it worries him. And now he knows why.

He can’t help the growl that curls out of his throat. Find another.

The demon regards him for a long moment. All he can see of its features are the eyes, as frosty and stark as ice, and even the aura of the demon is cold. Sad. Lonely. Feelings he’d sensed in them, when he’d been away. When he’d first met them in that elevator, too.

The demon’s reply is simple. Why?

They’re mine. You can’t have them.

The claim comes as easily as breathing, slipping from his mind before he can really think about it, or take it back. The weight of it clenches in his chest, and he can’t help glancing back, meeting their hazy gaze, his hand squeezing around theirs.

They’ve talked a little about the future, but not like this. They’ve not discussed more.

That doesn’t change how he feels about them, though. How he’s felt about them for a long time. And it doesn’t change the fact that he refuses to let them be the plaything of some demon.

The growl is back in his throat when he meets the pale eyes of the demon again. It’s considering him, a glimmer of - something in their gaze that he can’t read. His hackles raise, the wolf in his teeth now as he bites down on a snarl.

The demon nods, as if in acknowledgement. I see.

The air ripples around its form for a moment, before it vanishes. Asher feels a rush of air and magic - strong, too strong - and he turns quickly to wrap Babe up in his arms, holding them tight to him, shielding them with his body. If he can do anything for them, he can do this - protect them, or die trying.

He squeezes his eyes shut, and braces for impact - ready to take whatever the demon throws at them.

But the attack never comes. The street is quiet, the scent of magic fading from the air.

When he opens his eyes again, Babe is looking up at him, their beautiful eyes clear and focused on his. There’s a warm flush on their cheeks, a small smile tugging up their lips as they ask, “Ash?”

He blinks, glancing behind them. He can’t… sense it anymore, the path behind them as empty and innocuous as it had always been.

“You - looked cold, babe.” His cheeks flush as he stumbles over his words, his heart rate still high, even as he takes steadying breaths to calm it down - but they don’t seem to notice, their free hand winding in the front of his coat, pulling him in closer.

“I was. But I feel better now.” There’s a warmth in their gaze as they say it, their eyes flickering between his, before they drop down to his mouth. Reaching up, they curl their hand around his nape and tug him into a soft kiss.

“Thank you,” they murmur against his mouth as they pull back, and there’s a weight to the words that makes him wonder for a moment if they knew, if they’d managed to break through whatever spell the demon had cast over them - but they don’t say anything else.

Pulling back from him, they offer him another smile. “Let’s go home.”

#redacted audio #redacted asmr #redacted asher #asher/babe #ej writes redacted #would asher take a bullet for his mate? yes #writing

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monstercampus · 9 months

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Holy shit, i loved the Dean Lysandre piece! Igot a few questions:

1: how big are the eggs? Because if the dean wants 10, how big is the poor human gonna be? (might be drawing this over the weekend hehe)

2. Would the dean take pleasure in showing off his little human wife or would he keep his little treasure all to himself like the greedy dragon man he is?

3. Would he allow the reader to keep being a student or would he just write her off as "graduated early with honors" and then just move her into his home?

4. Would the dean have a special little area in his office for his human? Hidden by curtains, but behind is a very round bellied human asleep on a plush round bed with her school papers scattered around her?

5. Would any drama happen on school grounds with royal dragonic families being pissed that the dean married and breeded with a human? Any dramatic acts of petty revenge??? (does the dean find himself being very protective of his human????👀)

6. Is there any very domestic habits the dean and his human would do? Of course between fucking like rabbits, what kind of sweet doting things would the dean do??

Sorry if this is a lot, my brain is racing

hehe 🐉🐉🐉 dragon time!!!

1 -> With other dragons they tend to show only when they're carrying a whole clutch of eggs at one time, since they usually carry them until they’re close to hatching to keep them safe before they've laid. Surprisingly, even though it's incredibly rare for dragons and other species to breed (at least when they're not hiding it from the world) dragons have a very sophisticated egg process that translates well to other species, even if they're not of the egg-laying variety. While a human or other monster could carry several eggs at once, knowing Lysandre he isn't going to want you to strain yourself--so he'll likely only have you carry one at a time if you're going to carry it to near full-term, which would probably look no different than a normal human pregnancy from the outside.

But! The other way, and perhaps the preferable way, is a process known as "long-term laying"--in which he would deposit several eggs at once, fertilize them, and then have you deliver them within 1-2 days. The eggs are much smaller and easier to pass at this stage, probably not any bigger than a cue ball, and once they've been laid they'd be buried at the bottom of one of the gold piles in his hoard for at least two moon cycles. Although it's usually only practiced in this fashion by the nobility nowadays, it's an ancient form of preservation for the draconic species that's saved quite a few bloodlines from going extinct and has been practiced by all manner of dragons. The eggs will grow to be about the size of an ostrich egg within those two months, but after that period has passed their growth will stagnate and they'll go into a sort of hibernation state, which they can stay in practically indefinitely in nearly any environment until they’re unearthed and incubated into hatching. Lysandre himself was the product of this kind of egg process, as his bloodline and dragon species was declared extinct for about 400 years before his egg was recovered and he was hatched under an adoptive couple. So, with you being human, he would likely encourage you to go that route so as to monitor your condition better and make it easier for you to endure the birthing process....though that doesn't mean he won't eventually let you try incubating them longer, if only so he can spend more time rubbing that pretty, swollen belly you've got <3

2 -> Greed is definitely a symptom he suffers from and he wants to keep you all to himself, but he knows better than to be like that when you're not at all used to the possessiveness of dragons. Yes, he'll get grabby and greedy and spill filth into your mouth as he humps you throughout the night, but in the day you're completely free to roam the grounds and visit whoever you like, talk to your friends, go out for drinks, and play sports or do your little hobbies on your own. He trusts that you'll keep your interests as a couple in mind and he really doesn't worry about that aspect too much, the only thing he does do is jump at the chance to frighten off anyone who might push your boundaries too far and try to make a move on you. He loves knowing that when you're out and about without him everyone still knows you're his partner, and he's more than comfortable with that....though, when you get home, he's usually got plenty of reasons to remind you of whose bed you're sleeping in every night. Very, very carnal reasons.

3 -> You can certainly keep being a student if you like; he lives on campus for the majority of the year, so it's no bother at all to make time for each other if you still want to attend to your studies. He'll constantly (and secretly) be cancelling his meetings and saving paperwork to do late at night so he can spend quality time with you between classes, but if you're over the whole school thing or you're eager to graduate he'll pull the strings you need. Most of the professors at MC can be bribed pretty easily anyways (it's a monster thing) and it's not considered that unethical in monster society, so a few favours and gifts here and there and you'll have your honours diploma in your hands by the end of the week. And then you're allllllll his.

4 -> He does! Since he lives on campus, he's got a semi-secret entrance in his office that leads down into the depths beneath the school, where he keeps his hoard tucked away in the MC vault. Although he does own an apartment in the staff living quarters, he's got his own private living space down there that would be perfectly comfortable for a human with a few touches here and there. You wouldn't be down there all the time since there's no natural light or sunlight, but it's the perfect place for you to rest when you're carrying your eggs and an ideal spot to keep close to when it's time to lay them.

5 -> Absolutely! Dragons are dramatic creatures and you should expect to witness some rather flagrant displays of jealousy and snobbery while you’re in the Dean's care. Challenges to duels, attempts at bribery, and marriage proposals to your draconic lover while you stand right next to him are all things you unfortunately have to be prepared for. But Lysandre has nearly perfected the art of stoic rejection over his lifetime and will turn each and every one of them away, although his politeness will wane not with the stubborn ones, but the ones who turn their ire towards you or try to turn him against you with false rumours and lies. That's when he'll offer to fight their proposed duel in your stead, and each and every time he does their champion will turn and flee with their tail between their legs at the very thought. Draconic duels are to the death, after all, and next to nobody wants to fight for their life against a Drakon--especially not when he's so angry he's grinning from ear to ear.

6 -> Lysandre loves walking with you, so a daily stroll is often how he expresses his affection. It's never too strenuous (and if you get tired, he'll be carrying you) but there's always something interesting to see on your way, whether it's a new patch of flowers you never noticed or an adorable frog hopping around the pond. But if you're up for it, he's always eager to take you flying--it's a common form of affection for dragons to fly side-by-side, it's even considered to be a sign of good luck to see a dragon couple flying together overhead. And he can reassure you that you're safe on his back, he'll even wait for a windy day so he doesn't have to flap his wings as much in case you get sick from the motion. Aside from that, his love languages are usually gifts and acts of service, so brewing your tea for you, crafting little golden gifts and trinkets, and carrying or flying you places are some of the more common ways he shows affection. And kisses, of course! Lots of big, sloppy dragon kisses <3

#draconic dean #draconic dean x reader #lysandre drakon #lysandre x reader #monster boyfriend #neutral pov #dragon boyfriend #monster campus #ellie writes #wildaces #anons

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