#I’m not particularly good at keeping my thoughts out of my tone of voice

[passiveagreeable]

So my roommate just came home with craft supplies, and in explaining to me her plans, she said “and, you probably haven’t read fanfiction, but…” and I just. Yeah, so when I asked her why that is, she said that she thinks I think I’m above fanfiction. Not sure how I feel about this attack.

#it’s was a Valentine’s Day thing where she wanted to write tags from ao3 on popsicle sticks #and then people draw them and have to write like a little story with that tag in mind #and basically what I’m saying here is that on the extremely off chance she ask for help or if I see her and offer to help #which I will if I do. #then I am writing a/b/o dynamics without telling her as revenge I fucking swear to god #idk soulmate goose of enforcement. pwp. KINK NEGOTIATION. #I will search through my drafts to find my long ass list of highly specific tags I think are hilarious no I am not kidding #I wonder if me asking her why she would assume I haven’t read fanfiction gave it away… #argh. probably 🫠 #I’m not particularly good at keeping my thoughts out of my tone of voice #because it’s weird being called out for that. cuz like. I’m used to people having no idea what the hell fanfiction is. #so for them to assume that I’m the like normal duck here is… interesting. also empowering. also hurtful. #for all practical intents and purposes most people irl probably view me as something equivalent to a naive midwestern mormon #so I just gotta deal with that

[nereidprinc3ss]

baby fever

in which reader and spencer discuss having a baby while at work

fluff warnings/tags: fem/AFAB!reader, bau!reader, BOYFRIEND!SPENCER or husband if u so desire, discussions of pregnancy/having a baby (obviously), reader wants a baby, so does spencer a/n: god i need him so badly. should i write follow up smut?? mwahaha evil emoji......

The coffee finished brewing minutes ago, but you’re still standing by the pot, watching Anderson’s daughter toddling around the bullpen on chubby legs. She’s not very adept at walking, but her spirit is indomitable—every time she tips a little too far forward, she catches herself and gets right back up. It’s not like she’s doing anything particularly impressive or even interesting, but you can’t take your eyes off her. Every movement makes your heart twinge, every giggle or curious quirk of her head is so adorable it physically hurts in your chest. 

From your peripheral vision you see Spencer approaching, bearing his own empty mug, but not even he can draw your attention away from the adorable little pixie and her tutu and her pigtails. 

“That is the cutest kid I have ever seen in my life,” you whisper to Spencer, hoping the quiet tone of your voice will help hide how much you feel like cooing and squealing. 

He smiles to himself as he pours his coffee. 

“That’s Rosie. Have you said hi yet?” 

“I’m afraid if I talk to her I’ll try to keep her.” 

“She is pretty adorable.” 

You turn to him as he leans next to you on the counter, sipping his coffee casually. 

“Adorable? Spencer. Puppies are adorable. You’re not understanding the magnitude of what I mean right now. I can’t explain to you how much adorable doesn’t cut it. I’m not kidding about the child abduction thing.” 

HIs eyes slide around the room as he chuckles into his mug. 

“Let’s maybe not joke about kidnapping a child in FBI headquarters.” 

“I’m not joking,” you hiss. “I feel like I’m going insane. I just—” 

At the last second you stop yourself, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. 

“You just what?” Spencer asks, adjusting the hem of your shirt with his free hand. You glance down, watching the care he takes in the tiniest detail that you wouldn’t have given a second thought to. 

“Is something wrong with my shirt?” 

His eyes flick up to yours, hazel tinted with mild surprise. 

“No. It just was sliding up your waist a little bit.” As he says it, his knuckles brush the bare skin of your torso. You suppress a shiver, studying his profile once he pulls his hand away and goes for another sip. 

“Can we have one?” 

Your inopportune timing results in coffee dribbling down Spencer’s chin as he quickly attempts to wipe it away, wide eyes torn between you and trying to assess the mess he’s made. 

“You--you mean like a baby?” 

“Yeah, like a baby,” you say, grabbing his shoulders and squaring them to you before dabbing the coffee from his face and jacket. He watches on as you clean him up, completely still except for his wandering eyes. 

“I thought we were waiting on that.” 

“Waiting for what? A better time? There’s never going to be a good time with this job. And it’s not like we’d have to quit. Look at JJ. She has two and still does it.” 

“First of all,” Spencer begins, quickly recovering from your surprise proposition, “I don’t love the idea of either of us being in the field with you pregnant. And secondly, JJ also has Will and her mother to take care of the boys. We don’t have that. We’re both here all the time.” 

“I don’t care,” you groan, trashing the paper towels once you’ve done the best you can with his clothing. “We’d figure it out somehow!” 

“Mhm. It sounds like you’ve really devoted some careful consideration to this.” 

You drop your head to your shoulder, giving him your best puppy dog eyes and pulling lightly on his shirtsleeve. 

“Oh, come on. You haven’t thought about it at all? My perfect brain and your pretty face fusing to create a future Nobel-prize winner? Imagine how cute she would be, Spencer, we could put her hair in little braids and pigtails and we could dress her up and she could be in soccer and ballet and—” 

“She?” he smiles, studying your face intently. You roll your eyes. 

“Yes, she. Obviously we would have a girl. You—” 

The idea of Spencer as the father of your daughter hits you like a tidal wave, stopping you dead in your tracks. The images materialize in your mind’s eye so clearly, it’s like they’re already memories, so real and tangible you have no doubt it must come to fruition someday. But if before, your ranting was mostly a silly fantasy—now it’s become a bit more intense. 

He seems to sense your shift in mood. The big smile thaws slightly as he subtly grabs your hand on the counter. 

“What? What’s wrong?” 

There he goes again. Being kind. Being perfect. 

Tears sting your eyes, but you don’t let them fall.  

“Nothing. Nothing is wrong. I just... didn’t realize how badly I actually wanted that until I said it out loud.” 

The concern in his eyes softens to pure affection as he runs his thumb over the back of your hand. 

“I want it too. And whenever you decide you’re ready I’ll drop everything for you.” 

His words are like compounding pressure to the deep heat within you—forming something so solid and perfect you don’t have to wonder if it’s real. A ten on the Mohs scale, a concept that gets closer to actualizing by the minute.  

Your voice is quiet, revelatory as you admire the amber facets in his eyes. 

“You’re ready?”  

“I’ve been ready for quite some time,” he admits. And at once you feel the certainty of him paint your past and your future with one broad brushstroke. One day you will look back on your life and remember the time before Spencer, and that will be it. There is before Spencer, and with Spencer, but never an after Spencer. He wants to create something utterly permanent with you. “Come here.” 

He sets his mug down, carefully pulling you forward so you’re toe to toe with your back to the rest of the BAU; so that only he can see you. Despite how good the two of you are at avoiding PDA, occasionally an exception is made. He tenderly wipes away the few tears that have sprung from your waterline and accepts your arms around his waist, mirroring your embrace and completely enveloping you.  

“I love you,” he murmurs against the top of your hair, quiet enough that nobody in the office has a chance of hearing it. You sniffle. 

“I love you too. Also you smell really good.” 

He chuckles, hand roaming up and down your back for a moment. 

“And that is why we are holding off on this at least for a while.” 

“What do you mean?” you whisper indignantly as he gently peels you off him. His hands remain a steadying force on your waist as he smiles down at you beatifically. 

“I mean let’s give it two weeks and see if you still want a baby when you’re not ovulating.” 

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you

[taegimood]

— yeonjun overstimming himself to make you cum ♡ [one-shot]

pairing: choi yeonjun x fem!reader rating: nsfw, mdni wc: 1k warnings: smut, overstimulation (m receiving), creampie, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms (m receiving), dirty talk, use of pet names (baby, good girl), tummy bulge, pussydrunk soft dom jun~

a/n - i’ve had this idea for a while now, lots of people seemed to like my other jun thought so here’s another one ♡ my inbox is open, send in requests for any member~!

──────────────────────

your legs tremble with every steady thrust to your cunt that yeonjun delivers, the room hot with moans and labored breaths.

the sight above you is heavenly; his dark hair hanging over his eyes, eyes that are boring into yours as he keeps his lips so tantalizingly close — so close, but just far enough to make you beg for it.

you whine as you chase him into a kiss. moaning into each other’s mouths as his skin slaps against yours, you squeeze your legs tighter around his waist and grip the toned arms that hold him up on either side of you as his pace begins to quicken. “baby..”

you can tell he’s close by the breathlessness in his voice and the way his eyes screw shut, lip tugging between his teeth to stop the moans that threaten to spill.

he’s fucking into you so deliciously. your back arches as the tip of his cock hits particularly deep; with a strangled gasp, your hips buck up into his and the way your pussy clenches around him has yeonjun seeing stars.

“baby, i’m- f-fuck, i’m gonna fill you up so good.” he groans. “such a good girl. pussy so good.. squeezing around me like that, fuck..” you can tell that he’s close. his thrusts grow sloppy, desperate, drilling into you as he chases his approaching high. you’re practically drooling, moans spilling from your parted lips as he hits so deep, so good —

before he can help it, his cum is spilling into you, stuttering thrusts slowing to a stop as he pants heavily; the silver chain around his neck is still swinging as he hovers over you, catching his breath. you whine desperately at the sudden loss of movement, your orgasm so close, now chased away —

as much as you want to cum on his cock, you’re at least happy to have his fingers and tongue to help you meet your high, always the doting boyfriend. but as yeonjun sits up onto his knees, what you don’t expect is for him to grip your hips, yanking you further down on his sensitive cock instead of slipping out of you like he usually would, your legs splayed open over his thighs as your hips lift slightly off the bed.

you both gasp in unison at the feeling. “j-jun-?!”

you’re already lifting yourself up onto your elbows, but yeonjun’s hands remain firm on your hips.

“still gotta make you cum, baby, don’t i? just relax for me,” he breathes. you drop back onto the pillow in surprise as a fresh wave of arousal crashes over you, your boyfriend’s sweaty chest still rising and falling in pants as his brows furrow at the over-sensitivity. “jjunie it’s okay, you can just—“

his first thrust takes the words right off of your tongue and somewhere far, far away, and this new angle has you gripping the sheets for dear life. “fuck,” you gasp out as he picks up the pace into a sharp rhythm, pulling your hips against his with firm slaps of skin on skin, his twitching, hardening cock drilling the deepest parts of you like it’s his job. you can’t stop the lewd moans now, wondering how you’re even able to make any sound at all when he’s fucking you this good.

“that’s it, baby, take it,” he grunts, his eyes glued to the bulge of his big cock in your tummy.

“you like it when i use myself to get you off, huh? you like it when i service you like this?” he chuckles, the filthy wet noises that your pussy is making growing even wetter at his words. “y-yes..” you whimper pathetically, unable to even say anything else.

“so fucked out on my cock, can’t even speak..” he murmurs breathlessly, and despite all his taunts, you can tell that he’s no better than you as his words grow increasingly less convincing and just as desperate-sounding as you feel.

he’s pounding into you so messily, one of his thumbs moving over your clit in quick circles, his lips parted and head lolled back as he releases a loud groan at the way you’re clenching around him so tightly. you can see the way his abdomen is tensing from the sheer overstimulation he’s giving himself in his determination to get you off and you nearly cum just at the thought of it.“jjunie, ‘m so.. so fucking close, p-please.. please..”

“that’s it, baby, fucking cum all over my cock, let go for me, fuck- good girl-“ he gasps out, his voice more of a high whine now than anything, his low dominating tone from before practically evaporating with each thrust. his thumb is moving rapidly over your clit, eyes screwed shut and hips twitching, the over-sensitivity stripping him of any thought other than getting the both of you to cum. “n-need it, jun, need it so bad-!” you’re rambling, gripping onto his hand that still holds your hip, shaking and squirming and desperately trying to buck your hips further into him. you can feel the chord about to snap when your eyes meet his, and just like that, your vision flashes white as your orgasm wracks over your entire body. you can feel yeonjun’s warm cum spurting into you again as he moans out filthily, both of you shaking and slick with sweat as he finally collapses on top of you in a daze.

neither of you speak as you both catch your breath, chests moving fervently against each other’s. yeonjun slumps fully into the crook of your neck.

“holy fuck,” he rasps.

“yeah. holy fuck, yeonjun.”

he lifts his head tiredly to give you a shit-eating grin. his hand moves to soothe up and down your waist; “my stamina is no joke, huh?” you roll your eyes but return his smile anyway, resting your arms around his shoulders as you pull him down into a kiss. “can’t believe you did that..” you mumble shyly. he nuzzles his face into your cheek, peppering it with kisses, and you giggle.

“gotta give my best for my baby.”

#mj writes #txt x reader #yeonjun x reader #yeonjun smut #choi yeonjun x reader #yeonjun #yeonjun drabble #txt drabbles #choi yeonjun #yeonjun oneshot #txt oneshots #yeonjun hard thoughts #txt #kpop smut #taegimood

[the-travelling-witch]

summary: maybe telling your competitive athlete of a boyfriend you’d never orgasmed before wasn’t as much of a smart idea as you initially thought it was because he saw it as a challenge

pairing: post-timeskip! suna x fem!reader

warnings: [nsfw drabble, minors dni], fingering (f! receiving), pet names, (slight) marking, soft! suna, size difference/kink if you squint

a/n: trying something new and officially losing my seiso status after my best friend, @mari-on-dragonspine and @zhongrin bullied me into posting this; minors seriously stay away or i’m calling your moms (i encourage you to block the #minors dni tag)

haikyuu!! masterlist

“Does this feel good, pretty girl?“

You knew there was no need to answer your boyfriend’s question, not with the way you could feel Suna’s smirk curl against the side of your neck. No, he was well aware of the effect he had on you as you sat spread open in his lap, your knees hooked over the taut muscle of his thighs and your back pressed against his solid chest.

But you wanted to answer him anyway. Or at least you tried. As you opened your mouth to string together any of the words you could still recall after the first orgasm your boyfriend had coaxed from you, Suna gave a particularly deep thrust of his fingers, causing nothing but a strangled moan to escape your lips, mixing with the lewd squelching of your pussy around his digits.

Maybe telling your competitive athlete of a boyfriend you’d never orgasmed before wasn’t as much of a smart idea as you initially thought it was because he saw it as a challenge. Before you could so much as laugh off your statement, you already found yourself trapped in his strong embrace, the phone he was scrolling through previously discarded somewhere on the mattress. 

“So, you’re just now telling me nobody’s ever made you cum before? Not even your own fingers?” Despite the warmth of his breath against the shell of your ear, his low voice sent shivers down your spine. Goosebumps rose in the wake of his fingers ghosting up the side of your thighs as you melted further into him. “Do you want my help with that, pretty thing? Need to hear it from you, baby.”

“Yes, please, Rin. I need you.” The whiney edge to your tone had him suppress a groan and made blood rush down south faster than he’d like to admit.

“Anything you want when you ask this nicely,” Suna hummed as one hand slid under his shirt draped over your body, brushing a thumb against your pebbling nipple before kneading the soft tissue of your tit in his calloused palm. The other hand was hooking into the waistband of your panties as he distracted you with a soft kiss. With the flimsy material gone, there was nothing between the rough pads of his fingers and your soaking folds. Your boyfriend let out an appreciative whistle as you keened at his touch. “So wet already and I’ve barely done anything yet. Now be a good girl for me and relax while I make you feel good.”

And good did he make you feel. With his large body engulfing yours, it felt as if his roaming hands were everywhere. One moment, he was holding your leg open in a tight grip to give himself more room to work the fingers of his other hand deeper into your aching core; the next, he was rolling your nipple between his digits and lightly tugging to get you to arch your back for him, all the while grinding the heel of his palm against your sensitive clit.

Throughout it all, Suna had been decorating the skin of your shoulders with blooming reds and purples, searching for the one spot that would have you crying out for him. And once he found it, he made sure to exploit that weakness of yours thoroughly as your head knocked to the side to give him more access. When his mouth wasn’t busy sucking and licking along your skin, your boyfriend hooked his chin over your shoulder and watched how your pussy swallowed his fingers whole as he whispered praise into your ear.

“Look at you, taking me so well, pretty baby, it’s like your cunt’s sucking me right back in. Keep making those pretty noises for me, yeah?” he cooed. Curling his fingers into you, he grazed that spongey spot inside of you, which had your knees jerking up and forced a moan from you at the sudden pleasure. Suna couldn’t suppress the deep chuckle at your reaction before wrapping his arm under your thigh again to keep you wide open for him. “That’s the spot isn’t it?”

“Ah, fuck, Rin– Feels so good… Please, don’t stop, I’m so close,” you panted, your toes curling against the mattress. The needy roll of your hips in an effort to chase your high made his cock twitch and a hiss escape him as you pressed yourself further back into him. 

“Yeah? You gonna be good and give me another one?” The added pressure of his thumb drawing figure eights on your clit had you throwing your head back against his shoulder, writhing in his hold, as he continued to abuse the sensitive spot you could never reach on your own with precise thrusts of his thick digits. “Shit, I can feel you clenching down on me real fucking tight, princess. Go on, want you to make a mess on my fingers.”

That was all it took for the winding coil inside your stomach to snap, as you came all over your boyfriend’s hand with a choked up cry of his name as your thighs shook from the pleasure, stars dancing behind your shut eyes. Suna let you ride out your high, all the while rubbing comforting circles into your hip with his free hand while you dug your nails into the fabric of his sweats.

“You did so well for me, pretty girl, looked so beautiful cumming from just my fingers.” Despite the hushed softness in his voice, you could identify the smug undertone even in your dazed state. “Bet you’d look even better cumming on my cock though.”

Offering a breathless laugh, you pressed your ass down into his bulge again, peeking one eye open to watch as he bit his lower lip.

“Wanna put your theory to the test?”

tag list: @mccnstruck @mattsunkawa @silentmoths [i hope you guys are fine with being tagged in a smut fic]

#holly's potions #minors dni #haikyuu!! #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x you #suna x reader #suna x you #suna smut #suna rintarou #haikyuu suna #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu imagines

[moonstruckme]

Now that your requests are open I need more ceo Sirius content PLEASE 🙏🙏🙏🙏

Thanks for requesting! You didn't ask for smut but it's what popped into my head lol, hope this is okay

cw: smut mdni, semi-public sex

ceo!Sirius x fem!reader ♡ 636 words

“Baby.” Sirius’ voice is low and smooth. Compelling. “Let me see you, dollface.” 

You struggle to pick your head up from where it’s dropped off the edge of his desk, finding your boyfriend watching you from his plush chair. 

“There’s my girl.” He grins, eyes glinting with humor at your flushed face. His hand strokes up and down your thigh, a soothing touch that’s completely at odds with the mess of slick between your legs. 

It doesn’t seem particularly fair to you how casual he looks. Sirius is relaxing in his chair like he’s sitting in a meeting, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows and hair tied in a loose bun like he might’ve just pulled it back to have his lunch. Meanwhile, you’re spread half naked on his desk, seeping wetness onto the varnished wood. 

His fingers dip into you, the heel of his hand rubbing against your clit, and you make a choked sound. 

“Breathe,” Sirius reminds you. 

You roll your hips in search of more, but he stops you with a firm hand, pressing down just below your navel. 

“Easy, sweetness. We’ve got all afternoon, remember? Don’t want to tire you out too early.” 

“Sirius.” Your voice comes out breathy, teetering on the edge of a whine. “Come here.” 

He hums and curls his fingers inside you. You make a sound like you’re dying. You might be. “That wasn’t very polite, was it?” 

“Please.” 

He gives up the act easily, standing and bending with his fingers still inside you to lock his lips with yours. The way he kisses you says enough about how much he’s been exercising his patience, too. Greedy passes of his tongue along the inside of your mouth. Deep, long kisses punctuated by little nips. You meet him all the way, half sitting up on the desk to be closer to him even as the butt of his palm works ceaselessly into your clit. 

You’re the first to break the kiss when there’s a knock on the door. 

“Sir?” 

Sirius sighs, but his fingers don’t so much as stutter inside you. He raises his voice to be heard through the door. “I thought I told you not to bother me, Len,” he says, a slight bite of annoyance in his tone. 

“I know, I’m sorry. But Mrs. Burke’s assistant called, she wants to move her meeting to three today.” 

Your chest starts to burn, and you realize you’ve been holding your breath. You keep a hand pressed over your mouth, terrified of letting out some small sound that could give you away. As if on cue, Sirius’ fingers curl inside you again. Your thighs start to tremble.

“What happened to two tomorrow?” 

“She’s had to cut her trip short and will be leaving tonight. Three’s her last availability.” 

Sirius frowns, glancing at the clock on the opposite wall. That means he has to have you out of here and have his office cleaned up in an hour. His eyes meet yours, flashing with challenge in a way that has your shaking worsening. He smiles, wolfish. 

“You can let her know that’ll be fine,” he says. “Thanks, Len.” 

He waits a few seconds for Len to go from the door, then takes your chin in his hand. “What’d we say about breathing, doll?” 

You finally let the air escape you. Sirius watches amusedly, fingers still moving in and out of you at an indolent pace. 

“Should I go?” you ask once you catch your breath.

Dark eyebrows flick upwards. “No,” he says, sounding almost surprised. “Didn’t you hear Len? My meeting’s not until three.” He bends close to your face, a lock of hair that’s escaped his bun brushing your cheek. “I reckon we can get at least two good ones out of you before then, don’t you think?”

#ceo!sirius #ceo!sirius x reader #sirius black au #sirius black #sirius black x reader #sirius black x fem!reader #sirius black x y/n #sirius black x you #sirius black x self insert #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black fanfic #sirius black fic #sirius black smut #sirius black imagine #sirius black drabble #sirius black scenario #sirius black blurb #sirius black oneshot #sirius black one shot #marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders fandom #marauders era #hp marauders #marauders au #marauders x reader #tw smut

[jeweldagger]

f!reader, choking, tummy bulge, minor breeding (?), dumbification, rough sex. smut under the cut!

eren jaeger. you hated that man with a burning passion, yet he turned out to be your baby daddy.

it all started when you first encountered him, you thought he was just another amnesia patient who was recovering.

but he definitely was not.

“hey, nurse.” his voice was dull, and low as he called out for you. his half-lidded eyes stared up at you, and if you didn’t know any better you would’ve thought he was out to kill you.

“yes, mr. kruger?” you say, a patient smile on your face as you turned around to look at him.

to be completely honest, the rest of the evening was a blur for you.

soon, the sun had set and you were already planted in a hospital bed, with ‘mr kruger’ fucking into you, panting like a dog in heat.

each thrust was rough, and hard. he had a bruising grip on your hips, his sharp eyes almost glaring down at you.

schlop! schlop! schlop!

each wet, sloppy thrust emitted a disgusting sound, with your downright pornographic moans being swallowed by eren’s lips, his stubble scratching softly against your chin. he pulled away, a string of saliva connecting your lips before snapping with a quiet, unnoticeable ‘pop!’

“keep quiet for me, yeah?” he grunts, hips snapping into yours with a particularly hard thrust. “wouldn’t- fuuuck, wouldn’t want the other nurses to find out.”

“mhm- yes, mr kruger,” you moan out pathetically, back arching impossibly further off of the cheap hospital bed.

eren sighed, partially from pleasure and partially from annoyance. “it’s eren. call me eren.” he correcting you in a scolding tone, his pace speeding up as he dug his blunt nails further into the flesh of your hips.

one of his hands drifted up your body, landing on your neck. he gave you a slight squeeze, before basically choking you.

“remember my name, it’s eren. repeat it for me, nurse.” he groans, his other hand finding it’s way to your stomach, where he felt the bludge of his cock. “eren jaeger’s the man who- mm, the man who’s fucked you so good you can see me riiight there…”

“y-yeesss,” you mewled, head drooping backwards. your tongue lolled out as your eyes crossed slightly.

you were completely fucked out.

“no, that’s not my name.” he scoffed, his hand raising, before he slapped it down on your cunt.

“eren! eren!” your voice escaped your plump lips as a breathless moan, your hands clutching at the bedsheets in desperation, for what? you wouldn’t know.

“that’s my girl,” eren hummed, leaning down to plant a sloppy kiss on your lips, his hand loosening his grip on your neck. his lips then trail down to your neck. “i’m close, baby.” he whispered against your neck.

“uh-huh!” you squeak in response, fucked too dumb to respond as eren continued to bully his large cock into you. it was amazing, really. the way he could fit himself right into your tiny little hole.

schlop! schlop! schlop!

after a few more rough thrusts, he shot thick ropes of creamy white cum right into you, his large hands grabbing onto your thighs. he almost moaned at the sight of you, so pretty, sprawled out on his hospital bed. he fucked into you for a while more, until his movements slowed down fully.

“mmnnn…” you couldn’t even speak anymore, your body falling limp. eren chuckled at the sight, keeping himself plugged inside you. wouldn’t want any of his cum to spill, now would we?

that’s how you ended up pregnant with eren jaeger’s baby, the same eren jaeger who killed around 80% of the world’s population.

#eren jaeger #eren yeager #eren x reader #eren aot #eren smut #eren jeager x reader #eren x you #eren jeager smut #aot #aot x reader #aot smut

[mydearesthrry]

sweet nothing - h.s.

a/n: TOTALLY LOST THE PLOT WHILE WRITING THIS. IT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE BASED OFF OF THE PICTURE BELOW BUT I GOT DISTRACTED. pls listen to sweet nothing by taylor swift for the full experience!!!

🎀 warnings/cw: none, most tooth rotting fluff ever.

🐇 pairing: fem!reader x harry styles

💐 wc: 1.6k

summary: taking care of a very sleepy harry in an ice bath, and in the car.

“H, the bath is ready, bub.” Harry heard his girlfriend call quietly to him. He was slumped on the couch, this show particularly draining. He was quieter than usual, and instead of being glued to Y/N’s side like he usually was, he let one kiss to her full lips suffice before he decided to rest. 

“Mm, thank you, lovie. I’ll… I’ll be there in a second, jus’ don’t have the energy to go there right now.” His limbs were sore, almost every part of his body completely lost of energy, and he found it hard to even entertain the thought of getting up. 

“Okay… y’know what, just let me help you, H. The faster we get you into this bath, the faster we can go back to the hotel so you can sleep.” He knew she was right, and because he knew she was right, he allowed her to help (though not really at all since he already had felt bad that she ran the ice bath for him) him get to the bathroom. They walked slowly to the connected bathroom, Harry walking zombie-like in her arms. 

“Ready, sweet boy?” She tried to be as quiet as possible, the fact that Harry probably had a headache in the front of her mind. He nodded softly, stripping down to his boxers before letting her help him balance as he stepped into the bath. 

A wince immediately left him, Y/N whispering out ‘I’m sorry’s, knowing how shocking the bath was at first. She lowered herself with him, and sat on the floor next to the bucket when he sat down, submersing himself fully. 

“Okay bubs, y’know we’ve gotta do this so you don’t fall asleep on me. You ready?” Y/N says, pulling out her phone to pull up the trivia questions she’d pre written for the late night ice bath trivia that had become a tradition for them. Harry hums, and she flips to her notes to start. 

“Pick the category, my love. We’ve got pop culture, or the Marvel Cinematic Universe.” She asked, looking up at him, heart breaking a little at the exhausted expression that was obvious on his face. 

“Marvel.” He mumbles, sinking himself lower until his neck up was the only part of his body above water. 

“Okay… Timer officially starts now. Who played the character Pietro Maximoff, also known as Quicksilver?” Her tone was soft, almost at a whisper. 

“Umm… Aaron Taylor Johnson?” Harry questioned, racking his brain to try his hardest to stay awake. His body had now gotten used to the stark cold that he’d slowly started to get used to over the times he’s done this on tour. 

“Good job, baby. What was the name of Peter Parker’s love interest in Spider-Man: Homecoming? This one should be easy, it’s one of my favorite movies.” She giggled, a serene sense of peace overcoming her at the domesticity of it all. 

“It is easy, she’s called Liz, right? Liz Allan, or something.” His eyes were now closed, feeling the tension in his body slowly disintegrate from the cold of the water. 

“Perfect! Though the both of us know that Peter and MJ were the better couple, they were entirely more in love and cuter.” She smiled. 

“Oh, really? Like us then, hm?” Harry hummed. 

“Yes, H, exactly like us.” A few more questions had passed, and Lloyd had now come to join them in the bathroom, his camera hung around his neck. They’d anticipated him coming anyway, knowing that he would come to snap some behind the scenes pictures. Before they’d even left to go to his dressing room, they’d told Lloyd when to come in so that he could come talk to them. 

“Hey guys, sorry for intruding, but I need one of you to pick a few pictures for tonight so I can get them edited by tomorrow.” Lloyd tried to keep his voice quiet too, knowing the kind of atmosphere he was entering before he even came to meet the two in the bathroom. 

“Oh yeah, of course, did you want some pictures too?” Harry smiled, a tired but polite look on his face. Harry had built a great relationship with Lloyd over the months that they’ve been on tour, and they’d gotten more comfortable with each other than they’d anticipated. 

“Only if you’re comfortable, H.” Lloyd smiled. Y/N and Lloyd talked for a second, scrolling through pictures and picking out a few for him to edit. The time they took allowed Harry to rest in the cold for a little, before pushing himself up and folding over, dipping his head into the ice cold water. He could faintly hear Lloyd’s footsteps move to the front of the tub, along with the flicking of the camera shutter going off as he lifted his head out of the tub, ringing out his hair from the nape of his neck to the front of his scalp. 

A couple more flutters from the camera shutters were heard when Harry was rubbing his eyes with the pruny tips of his fingers, and he failed to see the smile on Lloyd’s face. 

Lloyd pulled the camera from his eyes, looking at the digital screen that held a preview of the picture. In the corner, slightly blurred because of the harsh focus that was set on Harry in the center, say Y/N with a soft smile playing on her lips, a moony gaze in her eyes. He made a mental note to send it to them later, and to also crop her out in the final edit in an attempt to salvage their private relationship. 

“Perfect. I’ll let you two rest now, think I’m gonna head to the hotel now myself. Sleep well, you guys, I’ll send you the pictures in the morning.” Lloyd smiles at them, sharing goodnights before closing the door behind him as he walked out. 

Harry’s now damp hair was combed back by his fingers and rested on the top of his head, save for the rogue curl that shriveled in a tiny curl on his forehead. Y/N rested her arms on the side of the tub, a gleam in her eyes as she watched Harry’s relaxed expression. Her timer, however, had different plans for the relaxed couple, and went off with shrill screams, notifying them that it was now time for Harry to leave the bath. 

“Alright sweet boy, time to go.” She tapped on her screen to stop the ringing, standing up to grab his black and white striped towel. She met him in the middle, her boyfriend already standing on the towel that laid outside of the tub, water droplets falling from his body in a soft cascade, small shivers shaking his shoulders slightly. Wrapping the towel around his shoulders, she pushes herself up onto her tiptoes to meet the level of his face, pecking soft kisses onto his cold lips. They stayed in that position for a bit, waiting for Harry’s skin to absorb the rest of the small water droplets. 

She led him with a soft tug to the main space in the dressing room, taking the outfit she’d gotten ready for him while he was on stage from the makeup chair and placed it onto the couch. Leaning down a bit, she took the towel to let him remove his now soaked briefs, before passing him a pair of boxers, tossing his towel onto the back of the couch. She passed him his clothes as he dressed himself slowly, humming at the words of love and admiration he sleepily spewed out. Once he got his last article of clothing on, she took his hoodie strings into her hands and tugged it down softly, making him lean down a bit to meet her lips. 

Their lips connected in a soft caress, his bottom lip wedges in between her two lips, a sweet hum emitting from his throat from the taste of her coconut flavored chapstick, one that was his favorite. Something that could only be described as love seemed to fill the room whenever they had these kinds of moments. Moments that was completely and purely their own. 

They broke away from the kiss, and when Harry went to say something, a yawn cut him off, mouth opening wide making him resemble something of a lion, making a giggle fall from her slightly swollen lips. “Let’s get you into a bed, sleepy boy.” 

“M’kay.” Harry didn’t put up a fight, wanting to get into bed with her to snuggle more than anything. 

They walked through the halls of the venue, pushing through the back door where their driver was already waiting for them, engine started and purring softly. Y/N opens the back car door, stepping in and moving to the side since she knew Harry would follow her. The driver muttered that it would take them about 5 to 10 minutes to get to the hotel before taking off without another word. 

Y/N snapped her seatbelt on, a confused twinge on her face when she didn’t see Harry do the same. Instead, he scooted over to the middle seat, laying into her sleepily. “H, you gotta put on your seatbelt.” 

“Noooo, s’not even that far, and I jus’ wan’ y’to hold me right now.” He mumbled, slightly muffled from the way he burrowed his face into her neck. She sighed in slight exasperation, saying nothing and just letting him completely collapse and rest into her. He was almost laying completely in her lap, her hand in his hair, a soft smile playing on her lips as she looked out the window and into the city. 

She let out a tiny giggle when she felt the slight tickle of stubble on her neck, followed by sweet kisses on the expanse of it. “I love you, love y’so much, it hurts.” 

“I love you, H.” She intertwined their fingers together, bringing up his hand to her mouth and pressing featherlight kisses onto his knuckles. 

“I love you,” Harry whined, making the smallest of smiles cover her face since knew how clingy and lovey Harry got when he was tired. She tried to relish in these moments as much as possible. 

“I love you, sweet boy, the Peter Parker to my Michelle Jones.” A sweet giggle sounded from Harry as he remembered the conversation from earlier. 

“Entirely in love and cute. I agree.” 

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x y/n #harry styles blurb #harry <3 #harry edward styles #harry styles x you #harry styles fanfictions #harry styles imagines #harry styles one shot #harry styles x fem!reader

[em-writes-stuff-sometimes]

darilaros (princess) │ Chapter 1: Sunrise

terms of endearment ‘verse: see my Masterlist for the correct series order!

Chapter 1 │Chapter 2 │Chapter 3 │Chapter 4 │Chapter 5 │Chapter 6 │Chapter 7 │Chapter 8 (COMPLETE!)

Synopsis: Queen Aemma brings a new child into the world—you. As the second daughter of King Viserys, you experience firsthand what it means to belong to the House of the Dragon.

Hello, everyone! Welcome to the very first instalment of this series, featuring baby!Babey and teen-uncle!Daemon! This prologue will be the only Daemon POV of this instalment (or at least that is my current plan), and there will be several time jumps in keeping with canon. Please keep in mind that, as canon diverges around Episode 5/6 in this series, much of what occurs in the show will also occur as-is here, so don’t expect anything particularly innovative in terms of plot, lol. I’m hoping this will be an opportunity to establish Babey as a firm part of the storyline in a manner that is a little less ambiguous, and will also serve to provide more wholesome Babey/Daemon interactions to foreground their later shift. A couple things: there will be NO ROMANCE in this fic, because Babey is a child. Ew. There may be mentions of romance between other characters, but this story will be told firmly through Babey’s eyes and thus events are limited to her own interpretations.

Anyway! Enough from me - on with the show!

TRIGGERS: mentions of miscarriage/stillbirth, mentions of childbirth trauma, blood.

“And so it was that, in the summer of 109 AC, Queen Aemma took once again to her childbed, remaining there for near two days for what would be a difficult and taxing labour. In the early hours of the morning, King Viserys and his lady wife welcomed a living babe—but not the babe they expected. The arrival of a second daughter took both by surprise, for they had come to believe the child in the Queen’s belly had been their longed-for son. It was nonetheless announced that the Queen had been delivered of a healthy girl, and a great relief was struck up across the Realm, the bells of King’s Landing being rung from dawn to dusk and the people gathering on the streets in praise of their new Princess.”

- ‘Fire and Blood: Being a History of the Targaryen Kings of Westeros’ by Archmaester Gyldayn

It's quiet this time, he thinks. No snivelling midwives, no wailing… A good thing, surely.

Still. The silence, in all of its peculiarity, is unnerving. After the last occasion—the frenetic activity bustling up and down the halls, the yelling, the sound of Aemma’s screams, the stench of blood thickening in his nostrils as he stepped forth to take his first and last view of the purple, unmoving babe in the cradle he would never outgrow—the absence of sound seems almost foreboding. Should he not hear the child cry? Should he not be within by now? He would venture to knock on the door, but he dare not risk disturbing this fragile peace—especially if it is not fated to remain so.

Thus, Daemon Targaryen, eighteen summers of age and the King’s very own brother, waits in his seat opposite the entry to the Queen’s chambers as he has done for hours. And, as he sits, he prays.

Well—not pray, exactly. He’d have to believe in gods to do that. But, should a higher power exist, it cannot hurt to lend his own voice to the masses that even now attempt to muster enough mercy to grant the survival of his cousin and the child she has worked so hard to bring forth these past moons. Let them live, he urges, pressing the thought out into the air around him, into the sky far above the Keep. Let them both live.

“Any news?”

Daemon snaps to attention, head tilting automatically to the intruder. He suppresses a sneer. Now is not the time.

“Nothing,” he says, taking care to keep his tone even.

Otto Hightower sighs. “Well”—the Hand of the King moves closer, towering over Daemon with his hands clasped behind his back—“no news is good news, I hope.”

“Hm.” He’ll not dignify that with a response.

Hightower’s eyes narrow in on him. “There is no need to sound quite so downtrodden, Prince Daemon. I am sure the King will find some use for you… now that you are no longer his heir.”

He knows what the man is after. A display of anger, perhaps—maybe even hot-headed insistence on his part that his position stands as it has since Viserys won the throne, that the child is dead, that the Lord has every reason to fear him still. He won’t give him the satisfaction, though. If his brother ventures out to see Daemon once again railing at his most trusted advisor…

Daemon’s desire to meet his nephew outweighs his need to put this upstart in his place.

“Never fear, Otto.” He smiles, lips stretched wide with too much teeth, threatening more than welcoming. “I’ll always have a place by Viserys’s side. I am his brother. And you…” He looks the man up and down. Even now, the pin of the Hand is attached to the cunt’s lapel like a sycophantic badge of honour, gleaming in the golden torchlight. “What are you, exactly?”

Hightower’s jaw clenches. “I am the Hand of the Ki—”

“For now,” Daemon says, a smug half-smirk playing at the very corners of his mouth. “Don’t forget that. For now.”

What he doesn’t say is plain to read upon his face. One day, he’ll understand. One day, he’ll see you for what you really are. A leech, one who latches onto power and drains those who truly wield it dry.

The reminder makes Otto pale. “I—”

The door creaks open, the flushed face of one Viserys Targaryen appearing in the space between wood and frame. “Daemon.”

Daemon rises. “Is—how is—” He cannot get the fucking words out.

His brother grins. “Aemma is well, and the babe is healthy.”

He lets out a relieved breath, surprised to discover exactly how tense he had been since the messenger had roused him from sleep at the hour of the owl. That tension releases itself with the air he pushes from his lungs, his shoulders sagging from the freedom of it. Suddenly, his eyes no longer feel so wide, so fear-bright, and fatigue sets in. He is tired. But first—

“May I see him?” he asks.

At that, Viserys pauses, whatever he had intended to say to Otto left unfinished. He clears his throat, all joy fleeing his face. “Ah… About that.”

“Is the boy… crippled?” The Hand’s voice is hushed, apprehensive.

“No, no!” Viserys insists, shaking his head. “Only… she is small, quiet. Nothing at all like Rhaenyra was.”

“A girl? But Runciter was so certain!” Otto says, mouth parted in shock.

Runciter’s a fucking fool. Anyone who sets stock by his theories ought to be burned alive, Daemon thinks, rolling his eyes. He’d never liked maesters—any of them, least of all the doddering fuckwits appointed to the vaunted station of Grand Maester. That Runciter had gotten this wrong is hardly surprising. None of them seem to know what they are doing.

He pushes around his brother and leaves him to his latest inanity, moving onward to where his newest niece lay.

The Queen’s chambers are stifling, unbearably hot, the windows closed tight and the fires blazing in spite of the warmth already pervading the early hours of the morn. Another ridiculous notion, he suspects, though whether it be Westerosi custom or Targaryen superstition, he knows not. Perhaps dragonbabes can only be born into the fire they are made from.

Last time he was here, Aemma had been gaunt, eyes red-rimmed and near hysterical from the passing of her first, her only son. She’d laid weeping in her bloodied shift still, bedraggled hair sticking to slick skin as she’d mourned the child, insensate to kind words or reason from any who had approached her. Eventually, Viserys had demanded all who were not the blood of the dragon to remove themselves from the room. Together, he and Daemon had borne Aemma from her childbed, had taken her to the bath still waiting, had disposed of the last markers of gloom and tragedy marring the space.

Only those of Valyrian blood should ever bear witness to weakness from one of their own. Only those of Valyrian blood could ever understand the magnitude of such a loss. Their line had been dying out since the Doom—every death since only ever added salt to the wound.

What Daemon walks into this time is different. So very, very different.

Aemma is gaunt still, overcome by weariness, no doubt sapped greatly by the trials of such long labour. Shadows carve deep hollows beneath her eyes, skeletal, made almost sinister by the flicker of dim light, and her mouth is pale and cracked. Yet, there is naught but a buoyant sort of lightness adorning her face, shining more brilliantly than a crown ever could.

The chamber bears none of that ominous atmosphere that pervaded that night, instead filled with the heady scent of frankincense clogging each breath he draws, earthy smoke settling warm in his gut. The sheets are clean. The midwives calm. The Grand Maester, asleep in the chair by the fire.

And, in the Queen’s arms, the smallest wrapped bundle he has ever seen.

“Is that…” He swallows, dazed and speechless.

His cousin beams. “Come,” she says. “Come and meet her.”

Wordlessly, he approaches, taking care to make his footfalls light so as not to disturb the delicate creature enshrined in a mother’s embrace. As he draws close, he sees that the babe is not asleep as he had thought. Instead, open eyes look upward, deep dark indigo with the merest hint of lilac-violet-amethyst, the promise of Old Valyria in that muzzy, unfocused gaze.

This is the moment he meets you.

Aemma graciously accepts his silent question, relinquishing you to your uncle with naught but a gentle sigh and a stroke to the cheek. So little are you that you settle easily into the line of his arm, head to the crook of his elbow and rump to his cupped hand, light enough that it would be easy to forget you are even there. You let out a soft bleat, feet kicking beneath your swaddling—but that is all. For when that blue-nearly-purple stare shifts, locking with his, you fall silent, still. And so does he.

You are beautiful.

Of course you are. Viserys is hardly the handsomest of men, and Aemma comely enough though of no great noteworthiness, but their firstborn is about as lovely as any girl of nine summers can be. Your sister.

Gods, he thinks. Rhaenyra, an elder sister. The very notion of his spoiled little niece playing such a part seems unwittingly hilarious in this moment. She will not like being made to share her mama and papa—her uncle—with you.

Right now, that is irrelevant. His attention returns to the slope of your nose, the rosebud bloom of your lips, the blush of your rounded cheeks, tracking the near ethereal features of your face with a delicate fingertip. Newborns are dreadful looking things, usually, squished and red and misshapen. You look like a painting, or a doll made by the finest artisans, a sculpture rendered by magic rather than mortal hands. He wonders if it is love for you—and it is love, he has no doubt of that, for his love of family is perhaps the one true redeeming quality he possesses—that blinds him to any imperfection, or if you really are as lovely as you seem.

“What will you name her?” he asks, smoothing the cloths off your fragile little head to take the briefest peek at your scalp. Ah—there it is. Targaryen silver. With an Arryn for a mother, one could never be certain.

“Rhaenyra’s insisted on naming her sister Visenya.”

Daemon glances toward the foot of the bed. Viserys has returned, absent of his loyal hound, drawing near without his notice.

He snorts. “How very like her.” ‘Tis true; Rhaenyra has always been fixated on stories of the Conqueror and his wives, in particular forming a fascination for the elder of Aegon’s Queens. It is a powerful name. A warrior’s name. He frowns. “A fine name—but not for this little thing.”

Visenya is anger and retribution; violence and chaos; death and destruction. Daemon can find nothing of the sort in you. Every part of you—from the tips of your fuzzed palewhite hair to the petite softness of your wiggly little feet—seems fit for a destiny of another kind. One of peace, of calm, of joy and goodness.

Aemma hums an agreement, wholly preoccupied with gazing at her newest child. “If she were a son, her name would be Baelon.”

“Hm.” Viserys steps forward, palm brushing featherlight across your side as he passes to sit by his wife. “Baelon and Visenya. Those are the names we had prepared. But alas, Baelon was not to be. And Visenya is not… right.”

Daemon stands, bringing you a scant few steps toward the window. Dawn is approaching. The sky has relinquished the darkness of night, and there, on the horizon, the faintest of ambers illuminates the locus where the heavens and the earth meet, silhouetting the city below. As he watches the sun rise, he just barely hears the staff behind him make their final exits, awash in a rustle of equipment and a hush of words offered to their mistress and exultant ruler.

A tiny noise below draws his interest. Your eyelids have drooped, soft lashes framing lavender lids that sweep across the skin of your cheeks. When he dips his finger into the parting of your mouth, you begin to suckle at him, reflex rather than need.

“What would you call her?” Aemma asks after seconds, minutes, hours. He turns, brow arched in surprise. She seems genuinely curious, though she is admittedly not one for mean-spirited japes as it is. His cousin has always valued his opinion more than his brother ever had, even if was she who had forced his bitch of a wife upon him. “If you could,” she adds, “what name would you give her?”

He looks to Viserys, wordlessly asking for permission. A dip of the chin is his response. Letting loose a soft grunt, he peers down at his small charge.

Visenya is too fierce. Gael too glum. Too many fucking ‘Rhae’ names, so no Rhaenys. Daella too bland, Saera too provocative, Alysanne too common.

And then, he thinks upon it. The perfect name. Your name. When he says it aloud, he is met with a shine in Aemma’s eyes, a gleam in Viserys’s grin.

“That is it,” the King says, nodding decisively. “That is what we shall call her.” Rising, he comes forward to clap Daemon on the shoulder lightly, hand warm even through the layers of his shirt and coat. “Thank you, brother.”

“Your Grace,” he murmurs, tipping his head.

There is a tightening in his chest, the sort of feeling that threatens to stop his heart from the depth of his own enduring emotion. As Viserys makes his way to the door to deliver the announcement—to proclaim your birth, to order the ringing of the bells, to declare your name for the entire world to hear and know—Daemon gazes down at you.

“What do you think, sweetling?” He says your name again.

This time, he swears that you smile back at him.

Read on AO3:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/48798151/chapters/123097897

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#terms of endearment │ daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen x oc #daemon targaryen x you #daemon targaryen fanfiction #house of the dragon #hotd #house of the dragon fanfiction #hotd fanfiction #game of thrones #game of thrones fanfiction #a song of ice and fire #asoiaf #a song of ice and fire fanfiction #asoiaf fanfiction #matt smith #house targaryen #targaryen #fire and blood #dance of dragons

[dmercer91]

the girl in your dreams, me94

in which mark’s rabbit hole of boredom induced link clicking brings him to you, and neither of you can get enough (18+)

i’m incredibly committed to making men who are tall and broad into whiny messes who beg real sweet (4.1k)

you told yourself it was just for a few days. until the tips could bring you just over the amount you needed for rent

that was for the month of may, and here you are, at the beginning of july, still doing it.

but the money was good, and once you learnt your way around the different kinds of guys that would use your services, the tips got even better

you worked for a hotline. one of those ones that guys saw at the tops of their screen on porn sites, except you didn’t need to have a camera on, and neither did they

when you signed up you told yourself it would be less embarrassing that way. if by chance you had to be on a call with someone you’d met before, they might not know it was you just by your voice

in the beginning you asked yourself if anyone even used lines like this, if that was even a thing anymore

it was quickly proven that the idea of getting off to someone real, that would do what you wanted even though they were a stranger, was incredibly appealing to a lot of people

tonight was the fourth of july, and your line had been particularly dead.

most people could get their own fix tonight, at a party or even at the bar as most of the country celebrated its independence

that was until now, when your work phone’s vibrations knocked you out of the pleasant zone you’d been in knowing you were getting paid to sit at your desk and wait for hours

“hi, sweetheart. how’s your night been?” you started your bit, ready to tease the guy on the other line for being alone on a holiday and offer to keep him company

instead, you were met with dead silence

you furrowed your eyebrows, cooing another greeting into the phone to see if you’d been dialled by accident

“uh. hi,” the boy on the other side of the phone forced out, voice cracking and nerves evident in his tone

“hi, baby. what’s a pretty boy like you doing at home on the fourth of july?” you asked, intrigued.

the faceless aspect of the hotline you worked for was usually a security blanket for the guys that used it

they normally felt better being cocky, asking for what they wanted so they could get it over with.

because it didn’t matter what they said. if you ever saw them again, you wouldn’t know

he gulped before he answered, the sound coming through on the phone and earning a bite of your lower lip

“all my friends are in different cities. lots of travelling in my market. this time of year s’ lonely” you hummed in response, getting your bit back on track

“well, i could keep you company, sweetheart,” you murmured, stomach tightening at the hitch of his breath

he scrambled to try and agree, to tell you he wanted nothing more than for you to be his company

“y-yeah.. yes. yes, please” he rushed out after a moment too long with no response

you giggled. you rarely ever got shy ones on the line. and honestly? teasing him was gonna be fun 

“are you nervous, baby? there’s no need to be. i promise i won’t bite unless you ask” you flirted and he cleared his throat, shaking his head even though you couldn’t see him

“no, s’ just i’ve never done something like this before,” he explained, his chair squeaking in the background as he adjusted anxiously

“thats alright, baby. what’s your name?”

he thought about it, ultimately deciding he’d give you his real name

“s’ mark.. what’s yours?” you smiled to yourself, crossing your legs and leaning further back into your chair

“you can call me cherry. d’you want me to help you out, mark?” a high pitched but quiet noise slipped from his lips, and you felt yourself throb

he sounded sweet as could be, and he wasn’t bossing you around like some of the other men

hell, with most of your clients, the call would’ve already been over

“i didn’t call to get off, was just for fun.. what’s your real name” you bit your lip, quickly thinking of how to turn this conversation around

you couldn’t tell him your name, it was against the rules. plus, you knew all too well a tip wouldn’t be included if he didn’t get a release

“aw, come on, baby. you spent your money on a call, at least make it worth your while” you purred, completely ignoring his last question

“plus.. i can tell how needy you are. with all the pretty noises you’ve been making” he exhaled shakily on the other line and you grinned, knowing you’d gotten your way

he paused before murmuring an agreement reluctantly. you could hear him shuffling to get himself out of his pants, hissing when the cool air hit his tip

“d’you want me to use my fingers, baby? know it won’t be as nice as yours, but it’ll feel real good,” he whimpered at your words, the cap on his bottle of lube making a loud creaking noise as he pulled it open

“fuck- fucking yes, please” he worked out, biting his knuckle at the cool sensation covering his length. once he had his hand wrapped around himself, he groaned and almost dropped his phone

you pushed your panties to the side, using spit for lubricant and pushing your fingers into yourself

you moaned softly, earning a squeak from his chair and a whine from his lips as he bucked his hips up into his hand

“oh, baby. you were needy, huh?” you teased and he struggled on the other end, wanting to tell you he wasn’t, just that it feels good

how else is he meant to react?

“poor thing.. probably throbbing in your hand. wish i could get my mouth on you. you’d be all better n’ then you could let me worry about taking care of myself,” he groaned out a no at that, tip leaking with precum at the mention of your mouth on him

“no.. no, y’ could use me. fuck- ah. fuck yourself on me. i could take it”

and by the sounds of it, you knew he couldn’t. you knew he’d be a whining mess, overstimulated and trying not to fuck up into you even though he’s so sensitive and it’s too much to bare.

you knew he’d be gripping onto your hips for dear life and leaking precum into you cause it feels so good

you knew he’d scratch at your skin and muffle his moans into your shoulder. you knew he’d come again when you pulled at his hair or moaned his name

you knew you shouldn’t be thinking of any of that. not when he was a paying customer and you’d likely never hear from him again

but it had been the first time your fingers glided smoothly inside yourself. the first time you’d felt any pleasure while talking to the guys on this line, so you kept thinking of it.

of how good he sounded right now, with just his hand wrapped around himself

of how if you could ever get your hands on him, you’d make him even worse off

of how good he’d feel inside of you, how you’d squeeze him just to watch his eyes flutter shut in pleasure

of how drunk he’d get off the feeling of you around him

of how he’d love to use his mouth, and how he’d be so proud to feel you come against him while you grip his hair

and then it dawned on you that he could live in a completely different state. you didn’t even know what he looked like. did he have hair to tug on?

and just like that, this call was work again.

“are you close, baby?” he responded with a pained whimper, gathering himself to eventually give you a confirmation

“yes, i- oh, fucking god m’ so close. can i come, please? i want- i want to come, i need it, please” you bit down on your lip so hard it drew blood, core fluttering around your fingers at how sweet he sounded

it was so, so unhealthy. but the more you curled your fingers and the closer you got, the more you wished this wasn’t business for you.

the more you wished you were with him, helping him release before he leaves for whatever city he’s going to next.

“yeah, baby. you can come. d’you wanna come with me? you’ve got me so close, feels so good,” you’d said it a hundred times, and this was the first time it was the truth.

his reaction made it even better.

“fucking- ngh.. yes. god, yes. s’ all i want. wanna come with you, please” you grinned, counting down for him and then covering your mouth to hear his pathetic whines and groans while he made a mess of himself

you leaned your head back on the rest of your chair once your heart rate came back down, lips parted in shock at how powerful your orgasm was

you quickly came back to your senses when the front door to your house slammed, signalling it was time for you to turn off your work phone for the night

“shit,” you sighed, quickly scrambling to get your shorts on right

“what? what’s wrong,” mark exhaled, and you grimaced

“oh no, it’s okay, baby. just made a mess of myself. your times just about up, s’ time to go”

“wait! what- how do i talk to you again,”

you pursed your lips, shaking your head to yourself

“ask for candy. sweet dreams, baby,” your customer service voice was higher than at the beginning of the conversation

you could not get attached to a client cause he was sweet. you wouldn’t

“you said your name was cherr-“

and the line went dead.

-

“hi, sweetheart. how’s your night been?” you heard the hitching of his breath through the speakers of your phone and your skin went hot

“s’ this cherry?” you licked your lips, mouth suddenly dry

it’d only been a day since your first call with him. in all honesty, you were still recovering from his voice, hearing him.

“sure is, baby. who’s this?” you knew it was him. it had to be. none of your regulars would so softly ask if they’d been directed to the right girl

truly, none of your regulars would know the difference if they’d been sent to the wrong girl

“it’s mark,” he explained, and your eyes fluttered shut.

you tried to keep your composure, act like he was just gonna be one of your new clients that came back to you every time

you were gonna ignore the fact that you’d never heard prettier moans, that you’d never come on this line before last night

“hi, baby. same as last night? know you felt real good if you’re coming right back” you faked a giggle, trying to keep up with the teasing

trying to keep up with having the control

you didn’t like to have no control.

“no, just wanna talk to you,” he said, smile evident in his tone.

fuck

“baby-“

“i’ll still tip real nice, i promise. you could take anything you want from me, baby, and i’d thank you,” your breath got caught in your throat, the sincerity in his voice a painful reminder that you were on the phone with an angel that didn’t belong to you

but, he got you. you didn’t have any other true excuse. he was paying for a service, and what he wanted was to talk, so you talked

he was vague about his job, but said he was still in college

he asked if you worked elsewhere, you told him you bartended a few nights a week

he asked what kinds of things you did growing up, if any hobbies stuck around

and just as you were about to weasel your way out of the conversation, tell him your shift was up and you needed to turn off your work phone, he muttered a confession

“i had a dream about you,”

you didn’t reply, your eyes wide and mouth opening and closing like a fish

“you’re real pretty, n’ we were together, having dinner with family for the fourth.

then it got.. needy, n’ i had to wake myself up but before that it was heaven. was like my perfect life, and i could finally work out who my dream girl was.

s’ you. that pretty voice, so sweet to me, n’ teasing about how we could’ve been out at a party for the fourth,”

when you took too long to answer, he muttered your stage name questioningly, like he’d thought the line went dead

“mark.. i’m not the girl in your dreams,” you explained, trying to keep your tone unfaltering despite the fact that you did not want to deny his words, even to yourself

“you don’t know what i look like, baby. you said she was real pretty. maybe someone else! someone you know, who’s nearby,”

your heart dropped to your stomach when you heard nothing in response, knowing that you’d hurt him, that he hurt himself.

eventually, he argued

“no. it was you. you talk the same, i jus’ have this feeling. i know it was you,” before you could try and calm him down, his time was up and the call cut off.

you’d hoped he’d find the girl in his dream, but you knew well enough it couldn’t possibly be you.

you knew that the whole thing had gone too far.

he shouldn’t feel rejected, and you shouldn’t feel guilty. but he was and you do, because the world is cruel like that

-

“hi, sweetheart. how’s your night been?” your sickly sweet tone honestly hurt your own ears at this point, tonight having been one of the busiest nights since you started working for the hotline

that’s why you didn’t notice the sweet moan your voice earned from the person on the other end

“hi, i- oh, god..” you rolled your eyes at the faint sound of lube coming in through the speakers of your phone

“already so worked up, baby,” you giggled, hoping you didn’t sound too disinterested

and then he whined, and your eyes widened.

you muttered his name and he moaned again, struggling to cool down enough to talk properly

“m’ sorry, know i freaked you out, i- i just need this so bad, please. been throbbing for days n’ it’s like you’re my fuckin’ drug,”

you smiled, cooing slightly at him.

this you could handle. this, you felt gave you control.

you helped guys get off every day, so you could just pretend that’s all this was - you helping him come

“aw, baby. sounds like you just need me to take care of you, yeah? d’ you want that?” he moaned, louder than he ever had before, the back of his throat making a guttural noise that went straight to your core.

“please, please take care of me. fuckin’ aching for your voice,” so you obliged. telling him what pace to go, a toy tucked into your panties so you could finally get off again, too.

you had him right on the edge, his increased moans and the sound of his chair from his hips bucking both telltale signs that you got him right where you needed him

“stop,”

“what?!”

“stop touching, hands off for me, baby,”

you could hear that he obliged, and you let him catch his breath before teasing him

“you’re such a good listener, baby,” you praised and he moaned, his creaking voice making his neediness all the more apparent

“fuck. tell me again, please,” you smiled to yourself, figuring it couldn’t hurt to mess with him a little more

“you can touch,” is all you said, core fluttering when he made a small noise of disappointment

the slick noises from his lube were prominent, and you knew he was holding back the best he could. trying not to moan

trying not to ask again, to plead for you to tell him what he so desperately wanted to hear

“what’s got you so quiet, baby? you’re done being good?” with that, the dam broke.

he lost it, begging you to sweet talk him some more, to confirm for him that you were satisfied with what he’d been doing

his words were a jumbled mess, pleas being drowned out by moans and you could tell he was already close again

when he finally gave up on thinking of the right words to convince you, he just repeated please

over and over again until you shushed him

he obeyed, hoping it would get him what he so desperately needed to hear from you

“there we go, baby. good. that’s good,” you paused, smiling to yourself and waiting til you heard a shaky breath from him

“you’re listening so well, sweetheart. perfect for me. good boy,”

you bit your lip, eyes closing as you heard his seat creaking with every squirm of his hips

your core throbbed at his struggle to stay quiet, because you never told him he could be loud again.

he failed miserably, hoarse wines and groans spilling from his lips and clouding your senses

you knew he’d come. his breath was hitching from over sensitivity and the slick sounds of his lube had calmed down to none as he caught his breath

you’d come, too. biting down on your knuckle to make sure your own noises couldn’t block out the ones coming in from the other line

once he caught his breath, he thanked you. over and over, he murmured his thanks so sweetly

“sweet dreams, baby,” you smiled sombrely, your own lungs finally full again

“wait, please don’t-“

“mark.”

silence filled the line, and he sniffled awkwardly

“i need to ask you not to call back, mark. i’m sorry,”

“okay,” you hung up, rubbing your face roughly and shaking your head

fuck.

-

“hi, sweetheart,” the brunette boy across from you rolled his eyes, a ritual you’d become quite fond of

he always came in with a group of guys, a group you eventually learned was a camp of hockey players that were developing with the devils.

he would order an unruly number of beer, and have you help him bring them to the table

today, he sat at a barstool, and ordered three beer 

“no peanut gallery tonight, eddy?” you grinned and he shook his head

“just shea, tonight. he’s in the bathroom with one of our buddies from college. holding hands, or something,” he winked, taking a sip out of his bottle once you opened it for him

“oh, yeah? who’s your buddy?” you replied, drying off a newly cleaned glass and setting it in its spot

the night was slow, so you were glad he’d showed up. he was never weird, and he and his friends usually tipped generously

he looked over his shoulder, the two boys coming out of the bathroom and chatting away

he nodded towards them, and you waited for the two of them to sit before opening the other two beer and sliding them over

you smiled at seamus, a quiet greeting, and then looked over at the other boy

“you gonna tell me your name or do i have to id you?” he blushed and ethan smiled, shaking his head

“i’m just fucking with you,” you leaned over to ruffle his hair, earning a small smile

he had light hair, and he was tall, built. his cheeks were burnt red from the sun and though he was smiling, his eyes were sad

“this is mark. excuse his puppy pout, he’s all depressed cause a girl rejected him,” you playfully glared at ethan, scolding him for being mean to his friend

“we don’t even think she exists,” seamus added, eyebrows going up and down to add to the teasing

“yeah, cause he won’t tell us where she’s from, what she looks like, or even her first na-“ ethan was met with a slap to the back of the head from mark, his hat flying off and landing on the floor behind him

“she exists.” mark stated, taking a swig of his drink and relaxing his jaw, knowing his friends were just being assholes

you, however, were suddenly panicking.

this was your mark. only guy to make you come without touching you mark.

sweet, soft, needy mark who said you were the girl of his dreams. who called a number he saw on a porn site to ask you about your life

you smiled at the three of them before serving another customer, giving yourself the time to recover while making their drink

you didn’t have a clue in the world what to do, other than let him know. without embarrassing him, without making a mess of his social life, you needed him to know

casually coming back over to them to finish up doing dishes, you leaned on your elbows

“tell me more about your girl, sweetheart,” you emphasized the sweetheart, putting on your hotline girl tone for the one word and hoping ethan and seamus just thought you were teasing him

you watched as his eyes went wide, then quickly set back to normal. he blinked a few times, cheeks doing pink and lips parting in shock

“she’s real pretty. i hardly even know her and it’s like she’s studied me her whole life. the second we met she knew her way around me,”

you raised an eyebrow, telling him to continue

“i don’t know, she’s got a spot in my head where my life looks different. nobody else does that,” he mumbled, eyes boring into yours with a pleading look

he just needed one chance

“a daydreamer, hm?” you teased him and smiled bashfully

“i’ve got a boy like that. his spot in my brain’s different, too. but i don’t even know if he’s really like that. most of him i just made up,” you shrugged, hoping he would get the hint

when you met him, you saw a life that wasn’t yours. that would never be yours. a fake timeline you could think of when shit got hard, is all

but you’d never have that, because the version of him you think of is your dream boy. someone based off him, but not really him

you gave him new hobbies in your head. you gave him a personality you weren’t sure even came close to his, cause you didn’t know him, he just sparked you to want better.

he was just a bedtime story. something to help you see what you really wanted in the grand scheme of things, in the future

you knew in his head, he saw a girl that could take care of him all the time the same way you did on the calls

but that wasn’t the truth and you knew it. you had more to you than that. more problems, more shit going on that wasn’t front and centre in the version of you he made

nobody ever sees dimension in a daydream, yourself included.

“i don’t mind if she’s not the same as i made her out to be,”

before you could respond there was a hand on your ass and waist, a mouth too close to your ear for your liking.

“bottomless pockets at table 12. he wants you,”

you cowered into yourself, uncomfortable in the way he was grabbing you and uncomfortable with serving ‘bottomless pockets’

“you know he gets handsy, ryan, i don’t-“ your whisper shouting was cut off by his grip tightening on your waist

“do you want to fucking walk home?” you shook your head, looking over at mark before going over to serve table 12

when you came back, sporting a tight lipped smile, ethan had been in the bathroom and mark hadn’t taken his eyes off you

“i’ll take a walk,” seamus nodded, giving you a pitiful look before getting up off his stool and walking away

“i’m not the girl in your dreams, mark. i can’t be. i’m stuck being the girl in theirs,” he looked down at his drink, messing with the empty bottle.

“you’ll be the girl in my dreams til i can convince you to be the girl in my arms, y/n.”

#e’s fics #e goes a little feral #mark estapa #mark estapa x reader #mark estapa smut #hockey imagine #nhl imagine

[nom-nommmm1]

sorry! I have a suggestion: dead and y/n meet through friends and start liking each other without the other knowing and he offers to watch a horror movie with her one night (because she doesn't want to watch alone) and he's super shy and keeps a distance between them but she asks him to be there so she doesn't get scared. at one particularly scary scene she hides her face in his neck and he freaks out, and they kind of look at each other and finally kiss. then they have sex and he's very shy about it but she helps me feel better and it's amazing for both of them

THE MOVIE - PELLE/DEAD

Masterlist for more + taglist !!

A/n: Hey anon! Thank you for the idea I hope you enjoy! :) For context y/n is not a virgin but Pelle is

Content warning !!: shy!pelle x fem!reader, p in v, unprotected sex, dick riding, hickeys

As the wind flew past the window of the school building she shivered a bit. The science teacher always left the window open no matter the weather. Somehow a kid always managed to spill a chemical in his class that would be too toxic just to breathe in so he ended up just keeping his windows open all the time. “Alright kids, off to lunch” he says. All the kids walk their way to the cafeteria tiredly. It was a Friday and Halloween eve. No one wanted to do work, just make it through the day so they could go home.

I grab my lunch tray and make my way to my usual table to see Pelle Ohlin. We had only exchanged a few words, he was a friend of a friend, but for some reason I thought he secretly didn’t like me. Always staying a good distance away from me, giving me weird looks. You know what I mean. I sit down to see Pelle now talking to Euronymous, my friend and his band member. It goes quiet. Euronymous briefly pats Pelle on the shoulder and whispers something in his ear. What were they up to?

I see Pelle glancing at me in my preifereal view and try to ignore it. “H- hey y/n” Pelle says a pinkish tone now coming to his face. “Hi Pelle, what’s up?” I ask turning my body to face him. “O-oh uhm I was wondering what you were doing and all, since it’s like the day before Halloween” he blush deepens and he puts his hands on his face to try and hide it better. “Nothing much, I was going to watch a horror movie with my friends but they dipped and I’m not trying to watch that alone” I chuckle a bit embarrassed. ”Oh I mean I could watch it with you? I have nothing to do either..” he drags on awkwardly.

“You’d do that?” I look back at the ground, then at him. “Uhm- yeah if you want me to” he says his voice muffled by the sleeves of his shirt, he’s now resting on his arms. “Alright, I guess I’ll see you there?” I say getting up to throw my tray away, walking out of the lunch room. “Totally..” he mutters as I’m already gone, his blush now bright red. Euronymous chuckles, hearing the whole conversation, hitting Pelles shoulder playfully.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

A knock on my door startles me. I quickly open the door to see Pelle in a little more of a classy outfit then the one he wore to school. “Dude we’re watching a movie, why’re you dressed up?” I laugh pointing at his dress shirt and pants. “Oh uhm…I don’t know, I just thought I should dress up” I chuckle again. “You do you I guess” Pelle looks down at the ground, embarrassed. “Hey I didn’t mean it, I’m messing. Cmon in” I smile welcoming him in. He smiles back and looks around the living room. “Nice place you got” he says in a bit of awe. “Thanks, my parents are stuck at work for the holidays so I get the house as I please” he nods his head in acknowledgment, roaming a bit around the room.

“Hey, you wanna get the movie set up and I’ll get the snacks?” I ask glaring at him. He nods in response, choosing a movie as I am in the kitchen picking out snacks. “You don’t have any allergies do you?!” I shout from the kitchen, trying to shout over the popcorn popping. “Nope! Not any that I know of!” He yells back, chuckling after. The microwave goes off, I take the popcorn out and put it into a nice bowl. I come back with a few snacks and popcorn, grabbing two waters as well. “Can you get the blankets?” Pelle nods again, running over to my fabric closet and pulling out two soft blankets.

He hands me the softer one and takes the other. He sits down, us at a respectably distance from each other, the middle of the couch empty with space. I click start in the movie and get comfortable to watch. As the movie goes on there’s a few jumps here and there. But the tension in my body builds as the scene goes on. The now quiet moment after the woman has lost the killer.

The killer jumps out, the woman screams. I jump, practically jumping on Pelle. Hiding my face in his neck. Pelle pulls me away, looking at me dumbfounded. I blush embarrassedly as he looks at me. “Oh my god I’m so sorry-“ I say but I’m cut off by Pelles lips. My eyes widen in shock. I quickly get comfortable in the kiss, closing my eyes and wrapping my arms around his neck.

After a few minutes I pull away for air. We look at each other panting, beads of sweat start to form on Pelles forehead. “Do you wanna…go all the way?” He asks cautiously. His eyes dilate just from thinking about him being intimate with me. I smile nervously. “If you want to” and that’s all I have to say before he tackles me in a kiss again.

His face flushing pink, he’s belly flips just looking at you..but him doing this to you..how’s he supposed to handle all of this? I smile coming in closer to him, pinning him to the couch. I pull away for a second “you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to” I say to him but he just shakes his head. “No no I wanna make you feel good” he says grabbing my hips, pulling me in closer.

I jump as a scream from the TV goes. Pelle chuckles, rubbing the skin of my exposed hips. “Hey nothing can hurt you babydoll, it’s just you and me here. I will never let anyone or anything hurt you” he whispers pulling me onto his lap. I smile, blushing a bit.

Pelle smiles back and takes me into a kiss. The once innocent kiss starts to get dirty, and eventually turns into us making out. He holds onto me tighter pressing me against him. His tent in his pants pressing up against my stomach. His face goes red. I laugh into his mouth, making him chuckle back loosening his grip, becoming less nervous.

Pelle pulls away, looking up at me straight into my eyes. “Can I..uhm take these off?” he asks referring to clothes. “Why of course” I smirk slowly lifting up my shirt. As my shirt goes up halfway Pelle does the rest takes my shirt off and throws it on the coffee table. He quickly unclips my bra and stops for a moment, taking in my figure. He then latches onto one of my breasts, groping the other one with his hand while the other is still on my hip.

I gasp as his tongue laps around my nipple. I can feel the bruises start to form on me from his hard grip, but I don't care enough to tell him to stop. Pelle sucks on the sensitive bits of my chest, going up and down the surface making me moan out. He creates small markings, not super huge but big enough to be prominent on my skin. Pelle takes his time with me, coating my chest in his saliva.

He pulls away from my chest, a string of spit following his path. He smiles, his lips glistening from his own salvation. “You're so beautiful,” he says before pulling my pants down painfully slow. “Last chance to back out my love,” he says, his brown eyes reaching my soul. “I'm ready,” I say putting my hands on his soft face, my hands gliding over his defined jawline.

Pelle lowers my underwear. His breathing speeds up, so close to the thing he's wanted for years. To think that his dream of being with you was about to materialize is driving him insane. My underwear is now completely off. Pelle groans impatiently taking off his boxers. His member twitches. Pelle places his hands on my hips once again, hovering me over his lap angling me perfectly before pushing in.

Pelle throws his back on the couch as we groan in sync. This wasn't my first time but I've never had anything quite like Pelles, thick and with a good length. What was I thinking before him? He stays like this for a bit, getting used to the feeling. “You feel better than I thought you'd be” he grunts starting to slowly go in and out, making a rhythm that feels good for the both of us. He speeds up, using my waist for support, his hands digging into me.

I moan, the stinging pain of his nails soon turning into pleasure. He mumbles and rambles as he goes in and out of me at a steady pace. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this” he says, blush starting to creep up to his cheeks and ears. I try to respond but I only grunt, being too focused in this moment to talk. People rolls his hips into my pussy making me moan into the nook of his neck.

Pelle is starting to slow down from exhaustion, as it was his first time ever doing something like this, but he wanted to pleasure you. After a bit Pelles legs start to shake tiredly. I put my hands on his chest, pinning him to the couch stopping him from rolling his hips. “Let me help, ok? Just relax sweetheart” Pelle nods relaxing into the couch a bit as I start to move around him. Pelle puts his head in my neck, holding onto my waist again. I start to pick up the pace, grinding on him, our hips crashing into each other as I feel a burning sensation in my abdomen.

Pelle whimpers, starting to pick me up and slowly drop me on his cock. I moan fully taking him in as I slowly fall to his base. Pelle then starts to pick me up and put me down on his cock harder and faster. I soon get used to the rhythm, rocking on his cock at the same pace. “Fuck! Y/n” Pelle says in my neck, giving it a few bites before relentlessly fucking me up and down on his cock. Echos of the movie comes from the TV but I am now too occupied to care.

Pelle and I moan in sync once more, not being able to control the sounds between us any longer. The sound of skin slapping becomes louder and louder by the second as Pelle speeds up. Precum and my slick become the perfect lubricant, letting Pelle slide in and out of me effortlessly. I rock harder on Pelles cock, our hips crashing into one another as we both reach the edge together. Pelles hot cum goes deep inside me, sending shivers down my spine.

As we come down from our own climaxes Pelle slips in and out of me a few more times before completely stopping to catch his breath. “Could we stay like this for the rest of the night?” He asks referring to being inside me. I chuckle. “If you want to I guess” Pelle smiles, kissing my shoulder. “I’m so glad I decided to watch this movie with you” he says admiringly. “Me too” I smile pulling him in for a kiss.

The ending was a little rushed but I hope u dudes liked it !! Thank you again for all the requests, I appreciate them <3

Taglist:

╰┈➤@mxqlss @slavicb-tch3s @bkaulitzz

#lords of chaos #pelle ohlin fluff #pelle ohlin x reader #pelle ohlin smut #pelle ohlin #pelle #nom nommmm1 #smut #fluff #dead x reader #lords of chaos x reader #pelle x reader #jack kilmer #euronymous

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for threatening to get my best friend sectioned?

This actually happened 2 years ago, but last night he made a joke about it that kind of seemed like he might still be mad at me about it. So. Anyway, ages and all are written as they were at the time.

For context, my (18m) mom took guardianship of my friend (17m), called “J”, after his grandfather passed, a few months before this happened.

Not going into specifics, but J has struggled with OCD and an ED for years, and I suspect when he’s an adult he’ll probably get diagnosed with Narcissistic Personality Disorder at some point.

(Update from the Present: no dice… yet.)

A close family friend of his passed away and it caused his mental issues (particularly the ED) to get a lot worse really quickly.

Even thought my mom was technically his guardian, she kind of relied on me to keep tabs on him because he’s usually pretty honest with me compared to other people. Like, if he’s not doing well, I have the best chance of finding that out.

So. His family friend dies, he gets worse, I report all of this back to my mom, who starts trying to get some sort of more intensive treatment lined up for him (difficult and time consuming because of where we lived at the time).

My mom tells me not to tell J, because he “talks a big game” about not wanting treatment or whatever and she firmly believes it’ll be easier if he doesn’t have time to stress himself out about it before it happens. Okay. So I don’t tell J.

Somehow, he finds out anyway, and also finds out that I knew and had chosen not to tell him, but doesn’t tell me that he knows. (Convoluted, I know, sorry.)

I pick J up from an after school thing one night, we end up talking about pretty heavy shit in the car for a /long/ time, and after the conversation died, he put a hand on my shoulder, leaned over, and kissed me. And like not a short kiss either. It was like a 3 to 4 second kiss.

Context again, I realized I was gay and that I liked J in a not particularly friend-like way when I was 13. I never told him and never planned on telling him. I told him a lot of things but I intended on growing old and dying with that one kept nice and secret. Even if he was some form of not-straight, which I was 99.99% sure he wasn’t, I didn’t think it was worth jeopardizing my closest friendship with romantic and/or sexual feelings that could at best confuse him or make him uncomfortable or at worst outright disgust him.

Anyway. We don’t talk about it, I end up going to stay for a few days with a guy (20m but not really relevant) I’d been sort of seeing/sleeping with for a couple months because I literally couldn’t be in the same house as J or I would probably implode.

Fast forward a week, I’m picking J up from a hospital 2 towns over because he ran away (? unclear really, haven’t discussed the particulars w him and I wasn’t staying at home at the time) and ended up having to go to the ER.

In the car (best time to talk to someone because they can’t run away), he apologizes for kissing me. I’m thrown off by that, because he hadn’t said anything up to this point and it honestly wasn’t even in the top 5 things I was thinking about.

I asked him why he did it and he just sighed and explained in this tone of voice that, I don’t know how to explain it, but had just the right lack of empathy or affect that I knew he was being 110% honest.

Condensed version: he found out I was reporting everything he told me to my mom (still don’t know how). He was pissed. He was aware he needed more intensive treatment, and he knew my mom was aware. He did not want treatment. He knew I had liked him for years. He knew that I was relatively fragile about it. He knew that if he did something (like kiss me for example) there was a good chance it would break my brain and I would freak out.

He essentially kissed me to decommission me for a few days so he could formulate a plan to run away.

FINALLY we have arrived at the AITA part.

After hearing all this, I tried very hard to come up with something rational to say, but ended up saying (essentially), “You’re fucking insane, and I’m telling my mother you need to be committed.”

I know I wasn’t wrong to be angry. But I also know from past knowledge and experiences that he had a deep fear of being deemed “insane” or unfixable or whatever, and also that he was really afraid of treatment in general.

Idk. I go back and forth on whether or not I was out of line, or needlessly escalating the situation, by threatening him. It was a much bigger threat in his mind than it was in mine, and so even though I know I said it as a reaction to a fucked up situation, there’s still the idea that I blew it completely out of proportion and weaponized his own mental issues against him.

So AITA for threatening my best friend by telling him I was going to get him committed to a long term psychiatric hospital?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

[hearts-hunger]

Read on AO3 | Masterlist

Summary: You don't like haunted houses. When you get scared by a big huge werewolf, you find you like the man behind the mask.

Pairings: Danny x Reader | Genre: halloween fluff, hurt/comfort | Word Count: 7k (yikes) | Warnings: smoking, anxiety, general Halloween spookyness

A/N: This is my fic for the GVF Fic Writer's Halloween Event! I used the prompt “carnival haunted house”. I hope you like it! ♡

“Come on, it’s not gonna be that bad! You’re being such a baby.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, half defensive and half warding off the chill of the autumn night. You couldn’t exactly argue with your friend; you were kind of being a baby about the haunted house she’d dragged you to with her boyfriend and a bunch of his Greek life pals. Still, she knew you weren’t particularly adventurous, and you figured she should have known you would be wary of doing something like this.

“I’ve never been to a haunted house,” you protested. “And the reviews said it's supposed to be the scariest one in the state.”

“Well, yeah,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “Why would we go to some lame ass haunted house? We’re here to get scared.”

You have a doubtful hum as you looked over the front of the house. They’d certainly done the place up — the actors that milled around in the sharp lighting set the scene, and the house was realistically run-down and looked on the verge of structural collapse. The screams punctuating the soundtrack of ghoulish music that came from inside didn’t do it any favors, either.

“It’ll be fun,” she insisted. “You always do this. Frat parties, horror movie marathons, literally any hookup I try to get you... You always chicken out at the last second.”

You winced at a particularly shrill shriek that came through the boarded-up window. “Yeah.” You found yourself wishing you’d decided to stay home with a good book and a hot toddy.

“Just stick with Ben,” she said, gesturing to the one single guy in your group. “Who knows? You might even get some action later — if you're not too scared, that is.”

You gave her a dry smile. “That idea is even scarier than the haunted house.”

She scoffed. “Your standards are too high. Ben’s nice. And he's hot.”

You had to admit she was right about him being hot. But as for him being nice, well, you’d heard the rumors, and you didn't want to find out if they were true.

“Can’t I just stick with you?” you asked. You took her hand. “Come on, Ash. Girl’s trip through the haunted house.”

She untangled herself from you. “No way. I’m with Jackson.”

Before you could try and convince her not to leave you alone in a haunted house, the undead ticket taker ushered you to the door with a chilling moan. You felt a flare of anxiety as you came into the dark foyer and took a seat with your group in front of a hooded fortune teller.

“Welcome, my dearies,” she said in a cackling voice. “I’ve seen your fortune in my crystal ball, and I see many winding paths and dark shadows in your future. Some of you may not even make it out alive.”

The ouija board on the wall moved by itself, spelling out “doom”. You tried to relax; maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe it would even be fun.

Suddenly, a box beside the fortune teller popped open with a shriek and revealed a leering skeleton. You jumped and couldn't help a little cry of fear.

“Here we go,” Ashley said derisively. 

You frowned at her. “I thought the whole point was to get scared.”

“Yeah, from shit that's actually scary.”

You didn't have time to reply, moved along from your seat to a dark, winding hallway by a frantic actor in grisly makeup. You got shouldered to the back of the pack, behind Ashley and Jackson, and tried to keep your cool. 

“Oh, this is gonna be good,” Ashley said, a tone of delight in her slightly hushed voice. Screams and creepy laughter echoed from farther off, and you all cautiously made your way down the dark hallway.

The hallway was narrow, and your group was moving slowly in suspense; a ghoul jumped from the hole in the wall you hadn’t noticed and howled at you. 

You bit out a curse and grabbed the back of Ashley's sweater, deciding right then that you didn’t like this at all.

“Get off,” she said, pushing your hand away. “Find somebody else to hold onto if you have to, geez.”

Stung, you withdrew your hand and hugged your middle. The frenzied atmosphere had your anxiety on high alert, and you jumped at every little thing, adding your frightened voice to the cacophony of shrieks and screams and rattling cages that lined the walls.

You made it through the house by sheer willpower alone, growing more and more agitated as actors jumped out at you, skeletons fell from the ceiling to dangle in front of you, and strobe lights disoriented every scene. When you finally made it through, you tried to catch your breath, and then remembered with horror that there was a haunted walk in the woods to get through next.

“Ashely,” you pleaded. “I really don’t like this. Is there any way — ?”

“Don’t ruin it,” she said waspishly, obviously annoyed and being pulled forward by her boyfriend. 

You felt close to tears. You weren’t trying to ruin it, and you were embarrassed that you couldn’t keep it together and hurt by her callousness. 

Unable to do anything else, you kept moving forward through the cemetery scene and shied away in fear from every ghost and mangled undead creature that leapt from behind the headstones. Your breathing was rapid, and you started to feel lightheaded as you tried to keep up with your group.

A few moments of quiet followed when you made it out of the cemetery, and you foolishly let your guard down. Then, without warning, an actor jumped from the woods into the path, screaming to beat the devil, right between you and the rest of your group. 

You froze, unable to see past the gruesome makeup and the awful screaming. When you finally found use of your legs again, you hurried past him and rounded a corner only to be scared by another actor in a horrible mask.

You were at your wit's end. You fled, stumbling down the dark wooded path, and found the trail completely empty. You looked frantically for your group; they must have left you behind, hurrying on to the next array of terrifying scenes. Your hands shook as you found yourself completely alone in the pitch-black woods, waiting in terrible suspense for the next thing to jump out at you.

You quickly came up on a dense patch of forest, skeletal branches tearing at your hair and your sweater. There was a figure ahead, a shadowed and huge werewolf, and you thought it was a statue; you had just passed it when it moved. 

You screamed as it ran into the path from behind you and came right up beside you.

“Wait! Stop!” you pleaded, unable to stop the tears from finally overflowing. You cowered and begged the actor to leave you alone. He reached a clawed hand out towards you and said something in a distorted voice, and you shrank back as he moved closer.

“Please,” you sobbed, beside yourself. You couldn't take any more; your heart was fairly beating out of your chest, and you couldn’t stop crying.

The actor swept off his werewolf mask, revealing a concerned expression and a bounty of curly black hair. He kept his distance from you but still had one hand outstretched. 

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he said in a surprisingly gentle voice. “I didn’t mean to scare you more after you said to stop — I should have taken my mask off sooner. I’m sorry.”

You inhaled in a choppy breath, still reeling from the overwhelming fear and now faced with the biggest, gentlest looking guy you’d ever seen.

“I’m not gonna hurt you,” he said, calm and kind. “And I won’t scare you any more.”

Your breath caught on a pitiful sob. “Do you promise?”

His expression was gentle. “Yes, I promise. My name’s Danny. I’m just an actor.”

You tried to collect yourself, working to steady your breathing and stop crying, watching as he looked around the woods. 

“Where’s your group?” he asked. “They’re not supposed to let people go alone.”

“They l-left me,” you managed. 

He frowned. “They left you?” He gave a disapproving hum. “Some friends they are.”

You didn’t say anything to that, figuring your emotional state was enough of an agreement.

“I’m just trying to get through this so I can go home,” you said miserably. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” he said kindly. “Is it your first time?”

You nodded, running your sleeve over your face to try and repair yourself. “My friends made me come.”

He sighed.

“Well, I can’t make your friends not be dicks to you,” he said apologetically. “But I can get you out without having to go through the rest of it.”

You looked up at him, so relieved you were almost dizzy with it. “Really?”

“Of course.” He extended his hand to the woods he’d come from. “Right this way.”

Despite his kindness to you, you still felt wary. He noticed and softened his posture towards you.

“I promise there’s nothing scary,” he said, and you knew he was being sincere. “It’s the way I get out, kind of like a backstage shortcut. I’ll take you right back to the front where you can wait on your group.”

You gave a shaky sigh of relief. “Thank you.”

You followed him off the main path onto another that cut through the woods, finally settling after a few minutes, the cold air stinging your warm face. Though you still heard the shrieks of people passing by, you felt more at ease walking beside Danny. He held his mask under one arm and trudged a little awkwardly through the brush in his big suit, making sure to stick by your side.

“I’m not going to get you in trouble, am I?” you asked, looking up at him. He was still a little imposing even without the mask, tall and broad, but you weren't afraid of him.

“No, you’re alright,” he assured you. “We can take people out if they use the safeword.”

You hadn’t even known there was a safeword, and figured that would have been a nice piece of information for Ashley to share with you.

“What is the safeword?” you asked. “In case I ever decide to come back in a fit of insanity.”

He chuckled, and the sound was warm.

“It’s ‘kitkat’,” he said. “Like the candy. Any time we hear it, we stop whatever scene we’re in and make sure that person gets out safely.”

“That’s nice of you,” you said. You had to step twice for each one of his long strides, and you were glad you had him with you as the sounds of the maze still rang out in the darkness.

He shrugged. “The owners are good people, and they want to make sure it's a safe and fun experience for everyone.”

You tried to listen to what he said, but you saw something coming towards your path; though you knew it was probably just another actor coming off set, you remembered one of them walking alongside you in the trees and jumping out at you.

“It’s okay,” Danny said gently. “They’re not going to scare you. I promise.”

The actor came into the path a few paces ahead of you and gave Danny a friendly wave in his undead getup. Danny tried to lift his hand to wave back, and both of you realized that you were holding on to his arm through the suit.

“Oh, sorry,” you said, blushing hot and quickly withdrawing your hand.

His smile was patient and unconcerned. “No worries.”

Sooner than you expected, you came up to the fence and saw a cheery bonfire and a few outbuildings just beyond.

He held the gate open for you. “Well, here we are,” he said amiably. “This is the staff entrance, but if you go around that building, you'll come around to the main ticketing booth. You shouldn't have any trouble, but if someone asks, tell them you safeworded out and Danny sent you back.”

You stopped halfway through the gate. “Thank you for your help, Danny. I'm sorry to have been a bother.”

He shook his head and gave you a friendly smile. 

“You weren’t a bother,” he said. “I’m glad I could help, and I’m sorry you didn’t have such a great time.”

Your returning smile was a little wobbly. “Well... have a good night. I hope you scare lots of people.”

He laughed. “Thanks. You have a good night too.”

He turned to go back to his shadowy wooded post, and you wended your way through the staff section, passing a few actors in various states of costuming. A security guard directed you towards the main entrance, and you found a spot to sit and wait for your group. 

Long minutes passed. You texted Ashley and told her where you were, but you didn't get a response; you wondered if they'd chosen to do the extra zombie maze and haunted hayride without you. You were cold, and you wished you had your own car so you wouldn’t have to wait for a ride.

“Hey, kitkat.”

You looked up at the familiar voice and saw Danny waving to you from the fence that bordered the staff area. You walked over and felt a sort of shy warmth at his smile.

“Hi,” you said. “Were you worried I might have died of fright?”

He chuckled. “A little. I just wanted to check and see if your friends had come back yet. They’re still not here?”

“I texted them, but I guess they must have gone ahead and done the extra stuff.” You huddled further into your sweater. “It’s really kind of you to interrupt your work to check on me.”

He looked a little bashful. “Well, I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I’m actually done for the night; somebody else is being the werewolf for the last shift.”

“Ah, I see,” you said. “Passing on the torch of terror.”

He smiled. “Something like that.”

A breeze rustled through the trees, and you shivered. 

“Are you cold?” he asked.

“A little,” you admitted.

He gestured over his shoulder. “You’re welcome to come sit by the bonfire while you wait. A few of us are hanging out for a while.”

“Are you sure?” you asked, thinking it was a very sweet offer. 

“Yeah,” he said. “As long as you’re okay with seeing people with their makeup and costumes still on.”

“But they’re not, uh... working, right?”

He smiled. “Nope. We don’t scare off the clock, I promise.”

“Okay, then. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He opened the gate for you and led you to the bonfire, and the two guys already sitting there in matching skull makeup and tattered costumes looked up at you in uncanny synchronicity.

“I thought you said you don’t scare off the clock,” you whispered to Danny.

He laughed, but it wasn’t unkind. “They’re just like that. It’s a twin thing, I guess.” He offered you a seat on a log bench by the fire. “Guys, this is...” 

Danny looked at you. “Shoot. I don't even know your name.”

You smiled and introduced yourself to the twins. They lost some of their spookiness as they introduced themselves as Josh and Jake.

“So you're Danny’s kitkat,” Josh said with a winsome smile. “Nice to meet you.”

You smiled back, a little sheepish. “Thank you. You both look... terrifying.”

Jake mimed a gallant bow. “Why thank you. We certainly try.”

Danny touched an unobtrusive hand to your shoulder.

“I’m just gonna get out of this suit,” he said. “I’ll be right back.”

You nodded. “Okay. I’ll be here.”

He turned to go, but before he’d made it two steps, he turned back towards you.

“Do you like apple cider?” he asked.

You were a little bemused at the question. “Yeah. I love it.”

He smiled. “Okay. Sit tight.”

You watched him go, endeared to his thoughtfulness and the warm ease of his smile. You had the somewhat silly thought that it suited him to play what was essentially, in the light of day, a big shaggy dog.

“So, kitkat,” Jake said, and you guessed the playfully teasing nickname had stuck. “How did you like our little haunted patch of heaven?”

You gave a wry smile. “How many people that burst into tears and get escorted out seem to like it?”

He laughed, and it was an amusing contrast to his makeup. 

“Well, I guess you’re right,” he said. “But some people who leave early just didn’t know what to expect, and they come back again when they're more prepared. Some people flat don’t like this kind of thing.”

“I think I'm probably the second kind,” you admitted. “My friends brought me, and I knew I wasn't going to like it.”

Josh lit a cigarette and held it between his long fingers painted to look like bones. 

“You’re not with your friends now, though,” he observed. “Do they know you’re here?”

You shrugged. “I texted them, but they’d already left me behind by the time I got to Danny. I don't know when they’re going to be done.”

“They left you behind?” Jake asked, indignant. “I mean, no offense to your friends, but that’s kind of a dick move.”

“No, you’re right,” you agreed. “Danny was very kind to help me even though I was hysterical when he jumped out at me.”

Both twins lifted their gaze to something behind you, and Josh grinned. 

“Aw, Dan, you hear that?” he said. “You’re a very kind werewolf.”

You looked over to see Danny wearing a somewhat bashful smile and holding a mug wreathed with steam, a jacket draped over his arm.

“Just doing my job,” he said modestly. He sat beside you and handed you the mug, then put his huge jacket over your shoulders. “Here. This’ll get you warmed up.”

You took the mug gratefully and warmed your hands on the sides of it, breathing in the tart fragrance of apple cider as steam rose from the drink. His jacket, though you were practically swimming in it, was warm and smelled like sweet, spicy cologne. “Thank you, Danny.”

He smiled. “You’re very welcome.”

He stretched his long legs out towards the fire, and you admired how he looked in snug jeans and a rust-colored sweater. He wasn’t scary at all out of the suit, and you were curious as to how much his friends would change once they were out of their makeup.

“What part do you two work?” you asked the twins. “I don’t remember seeing you in the house, but then again, I was kind of trying not to see anything.”

They smiled, curving the black-and-white skeleton grins into something gentler.

“We’re past Danny a little ways,” Jake said. “There’s a section of the woods between Jason’s chainsaw attack and Elm Street, and we do a whole routine of following people and then screaming at the top of our lungs when we get close to them.”

“Josh is very good at it,” Danny said. “He’s got the pipes for it.”

You smiled despite the lingering unease of imagining being caught in their scene. “I’m glad I didn't make it to your section, then.”

They laughed.

“You should have seen Jake when he was the undead pirate in the swamp scene,” Josh said. “He’d sit completely still in the chair in the corner and then jump up and chase people out through the alligator swamp.” He looked to his brother. “What was that, two seasons ago? That was a big hit that year.”

“Have you played a lot of different parts?” you asked.

All three of them agreed.

“They move you around all the time,” Danny said. “It’s fun getting to play different characters and wear different costumes. Josh played this little dude with a pumpkin head that didn’t look scary at first, but it freaked people out when he stood as they passed by and just turned his head to watch them.”

“Oh, yeah, I remember that one,” Josh said, fondly reminiscing on scaring the bejeezus out of people. “Weren't you Michael Meyers when I was doing that?”

Danny laughed. “Yeah, because I was the only one tall enough that year.”

“What was Sam doing then?” Jake asked.

Josh shook his head. “He was a zombie, I think. Maybe.” He looked to you. “Sam is our younger brother. He works here too.”

“He should be getting off any minute,” Danny said, glancing at his watch. He looked towards the woods. “There he is now, actually.”

You looked over too, and you gasped as you saw a huge four-legged stilt creature with mossy horns atop a deer skull head. 

“That’s just Sam,” Danny said quickly, wanting to reassure you.

You smiled in delight. “It's okay. I’m not afraid of that. I think it’s wonderful.”

A few coworkers near the fence helped Sam get out of his costume and off the stilts, and he shook his hair out of his face as he came over to your bonfire.

“Howdy, boys,” he said. He caught sight of you and gave you a curious smile.

“I didn’t know we were inviting lady friends to hang out,” he said. 

The twins laughed, and Danny’s smile was a little embarrassed.

“Danny just helped me get out of the woods,” you told him with a smile. “And your brothers have been nice enough to share your bonfire while I wait for my group.”

“Ah, a kitkat, huh?” Sam asked. “Sorry if I scared you coming out in all my regalia.”

“She said you were wonderful,” Jake teased. “Not scary at all.”

He smiled. “Well, I’m glad you liked it. It’s a bitch to get in and out of, but I think it looks cool.”

He sat catty-corner to the twins and sighed deeply as he stretched. “Cigarette.”

Josh pulled one out of his pack for him and tossed him a lighter. “So polite, Sammy.”

Sam smiled as he lit his smoke. “You know what some girl said to me? She said she wanted to take me home as a pet.”

Danny grinned. “As, like, a sexy pet? Or just a huge, weird dog?”

“Huge weird dog,” he agreed. “Though you’ve probably got me beat on that one.”

“Nah, Danny gets all the lonely Halloween housewives,” Jake said. “They like him all... wolfy.”

You looked over at Danny. “Do they really?” you asked, amused. 

You didn’t know for sure in the warm light of the fire, but you thought he might have blushed.

“Sometimes,” he admitted. “They probably wouldn't feel the same if they saw me out of the suit, though.”

You thought that couldn't be true. If he hadn’t scared you, you might have been... intrigued by the werewolf costume. Certainly you were intrigued now that he was out of it.

You talked for a long time around the fire, learning some of their different parts they’d played, getting funny stories of their best scares, finding out some of the behind the scenes secrets that made it less frightening and more interesting to you.

“How long have you worked here?” you asked.

“This is our fourth year,” Sam said. “It’s just a seasonal thing — our real job is playing music, but, you know, gotta pay the bills before we land Madison Square Garden.”

You drew Danny's jacket closer around you, thankful for its warmth. He had moved closer, or maybe you had moved, so the two of you were shoulder to shoulder. 

“What kind of music do you play?” you asked.

“Rock n roll,” Josh said proudly. “Jake’s on guitar, Sam's on bass, and Danny's on drums.”

“Does that make you the mercurial lead singer?” you teased. 

He grinned. “I do what I can.”

You thought of Danny playing drums and felt something close to butterflies at the thought. 

“We’re doing local gigs, mostly,” Jake said. “We’re hoping to get a recording contract soon, but for now, we’re starving artists splitting rent and scaring people in the side.”

You smiled. “You should do a Halloween-themed concert here,” you said. “All decked out in makeup and costumes. I would come.”

“That’s actually a fantastic idea,” Josh said. “Hey, Dan, you picked a good one.”

You were a little embarrassed but mostly pleased at his lighthearted teasing, and you thought Danny felt the same. As the brothers started discussing what their spooky concert could entail, Danny checked a message on his phone.

“Brian lost his fake arm,” Danny said to the group. “Some moron thought it would be funny if he grabbed it and ran off with it.”

“Super,” Jake said dryly. “I assume the security guys are escorting the arm thief off property?”

Danny stood and pocketed his phone. “I reckon. But he asked me if I’d bring him a spare arm.”

 He looked down at you with a hopeful expression. “You want to come along?”

“On a zombie arm delivery through the quarantine zone?”

He smiled. “Yeah. Through the backstage, so no scary stuff.”

He held his hand out to you, and you took it.

“I might cry again,” you warned. “You never know.”

He squeezed your hand. “I won't let anything get you, kitkat. You stick with me and you’ll be just fine.”

You were happy to comply, enjoying the feeling of your hand in his as he led you to the prop storage building. He had to let go of your hand to sift through the array of knives, chainsaws, and tombstones, and you followed him through the winding aisles of shelves stacked high with all manner of fake blood and gruesome pumpkin heads.

You skirted a group of seven foot tall skeletons looming in the light of the bare lightbulbs overhead. “You guys have a lot of stuff.”

“This isn't even half of it,” he said, looking for a particular shelf. He rounded a corner and you followed, coming face to face with a leering clown mask that made you draw a sharp breath.

“You okay?” he asked, looking over his shoulder.

“Yeah,” you said, a little embarrassed that you’d been frightened of a completely motionless mask. You moved close again and concentrated on him instead of the ghoulish props. “This stuff doesn’t freak you out? Even just a little?”

He shrugged, but he wore a tell-tale smile. “Not really. I’m used to it by now.” He found the shelf he was looking for. “Aha! Here we go.”

He pulled a grisly arm in a ripped sleeve from the collection and held it up. “High five.”

You slapped your palm against it. “Is that all we need?”

“Yep,” he agreed. “We’re all set.”

He took your hand again and led you back outside, walking along the fence until you reached a different entrance to the woods. You pressed closer when you started down the path, and he smiled down at you in the dim light of the half-moon.

“You’re okay, kitkat,” he said sweetly. “Remember what I said?”

“You’re not going to let anything get me?”

“Right. I gotcha, don’t worry.”

The woods were almost pleasant without the frantic haunts and jumpscares, and you noticed the lush sounds that filtered through the sound effects and various shrieks and screams that drifted through the darkness. 

A trilling, haunting bird call caught your attention. “Is that part of the ambience?”

“A natural one,” he said. “That’s an eastern screech owl. They sing all the time out here.”

He pulled you to a stop. “We might be able to see this one. Hold on.”

His hand was warm in yours, big and callused, and you watched his face as he studied the trees. He was handsome, there was no denying it; his curls were brushed by the breeze, and you couldn't help but do the same when you saw the excited curve of his smile.

“There it is,” he said quietly, pointing to a tree a few paces ahead. “See it?”

You looked where he directed, and after a moment of searching, you saw a small brown owl perched on a branch. It called again, a waterfall of notes, and you watched the feathers on its head stand up like little horns.

“Spooky,” you said.

He smiled. “Isn't it pretty?”

“It’s beautiful,” you agreed. He squeezed your hand, pleased you’d liked it.

“Let’s go deliver this arm,” he said. “Shall we?”

“Lead on, good sir.”

You reached the quarantine zone section of the maze, and you started to feel uneasy again as the screams of happily frightened patrons and dedicated actors got louder. Danny shouldered a side door open and took you inside, winding through the narrow walls with an ease born of practice.

You came up to a little room open to the backstage side with a barred window of the opposite wall. A guy in all his zombie finery cracked a smile that was slightly marred by his macabre makeup.

“Brought me a snack, huh?” he joked.

“Just an arm,” Danny said, handing it over. “Sorry yours got snatched.”

He rolled his eyes. “It was a bunch of frat guys. Idiots.”

You wondered grimly if it was one of Ashley and Jackson’s troupe that had taken the arm. You wouldn’t be surprised. 

“See you around,” Danny said, squeezing his broad frame back through the entrance. He took you back down the maze to the place you’d come in from, and you were about to ask him if he’d ever worked as a zombie when an actor slammed against the bars his jail cell beside you.

You yelped and moved behind Danny, feeling your heartbeat pick up again.

“Hey, Cindy, hold up,” Danny said to the actor, holding you hand tightly and putting himself between you and the actor. “I got a kitkat with me.”

She immediately let up on her routine and peeked through the bars of the cell.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said sincerely. “I didn’t see that it was you. Are you okay, hon?”

You tried to find your voice, tucking yourself safely behind Danny. “I’m fine, thanks. You’re very effective.”

She laughed. “Thank you. Sorry again for scaring you.”

You followed Danny out, trying to get your heartbeat to settle into a normal rhythm. When you were through the back door again, Danny turned to face you.

“I’m really sorry,” he said, and you heard how much he meant it. “I forgot there was a spot there. I should have warned you.”

“It’s okay,” you said weakly. You looked up at him. “You didn’t let her get me, so I guess we’re good.”

He gave you an apologetic smile. “Still, I feel terrible. Are you okay?”

You nodded. “Yes. Sorry you got stuck with the wimpiest girl in the whole world.”

“I don't mind,” he said kindly. He squeezed your hand. “Let's get you back to civilization, yeah?”

As you walked, you felt your phone buzz. You read the text from Ashley, and from the number of odd typos, it seemed like she’d gone back to the car and gotten into the frat boys’ stash of weed or alcohol or both. She didn't seem remotely concerned or apologetic that they’d completely abandoned you, and the demand to come back to the car for a ride home didn’t exactly make up for it.

“Is that your friends?” Danny asked.

You gave a doubtful hum. “I’ve decided ‘friends’ is a bit of a strong word, but yes. They're finally headed back to the car.”

Danny didn’t say anything for a moment. Then, he seemed to work up his courage with a deep breath.

“Okay, so, before I say anything,” he said, “I want you to know you can absolutely turn me down and it won’t hurt my feelings. I’m happy to walk you back to your friends’ car and leave it at that.”

You felt a spark of something eager, something curious. “Okay,” you agreed. “What’s behind door number two?”

His smile was shy. “Well, I was thinking, if you don’t live nine hundred miles from here... I could drive you home. Maybe we could grab some dinner.”

You wanted to say yes immediately, but you made yourself think it through. It was a little crazy to be accepting a ride home from a guy you’d just met at a haunted house — a lot crazy for you, considering you were the opposite of adventurous or risk-seeking — but there was something about Danny that you knew was trustworthy. He’d been nothing but kind to you and hadn’t done anything that made you even vaguely uncomfortable, and you wanted to get to know him better.

“I’d like that,” you said, and you felt yourself blush when he smiled.

“Really?” he asked. “Like I said, I don’t mind taking you over to your friends. But if I do, I... I would like to get your number, and ask you out for something in the daytime if you want.”

You’d never had such genuine, conscientious attention turned your way before, and you found you very much enjoyed it. 

“I would love to go out sometime when it’s not pitch black,” you said, teasing a little, and he laughed.

“And tonight?” he asked, cautious of seeming insistent.

You smiled. “I would be grateful if you could drive me home, if it’s not too far out of your way. I live at the university.”

“That’s not out of the way at all,” he said. “Our house is right around the corner.”

You liked the thought that meeting up with him again would be easy, almost like it was meant to be. As you made it back to the bonfire where Sam, Josh, and Jake were waiting, you texted Ashley to tell her your plans; just as a precaution, though you didn’t think you’d need it, you shared your location with her.

“I gave her instructions to let them do a documentary on me if I get murdered,” you said.

Danny laughed. “Okay. I can promise you that it won’t be me, at any rate. I do think we should get some killer pumpkin waffles, though. I know a good place.”

“Are you going to the diner?” Sam asked. The three of them had been shamelessly listening in on your conversation, and they gave you three matched smiles as you came up to the fire.

“Can we come too?” Josh asked.

Jake elbowed him. “They’re going on a date, dummy.”

Josh scoffed. “It’s not really fair of him to bring up the diner and not invite us.”

“We’ll sit at a different booth,” Sam promised.

You laughed. “I don’t mind if you come,” you said. “And we can sit at the same booth.”

You looked up at Danny. “Unless you mind.”

His smile was equal parts fond and exasperated with his friends. “No, I don't mind. The more the merrier.”

The boys were thrilled to hear that, and they left to get out of their costumes so you could leave. You and Danny sat by the fire in a bashful, quiet companionship. 

“I would like to go out sometime, just us,” you said. “If... if you want to. You four seem kind of like a package deal, though.”

He chuckled. “We are, kind of. We’ve been friends since we were kids — they’re really more like my brothers. But yes, I want to go out sometime too, just us.”

“Even though I'm a kitkat?” you asked. “It’s been quite a first impression.”

He smiled and brushed your hair behind your ear in an affectionate, innocent touch. “It wasn't so bad,” he said. “I’m glad you were my kitkat.”

You blushed and tried to hide your smile. The boys came back and rescued you from doing anything foolish, like kissing a guy you’d just met, and the five of you made your way through the grass to the staff parking lot.

“You two look downright friendly without all your makeup,” you said to Jake and Josh. You saw their differences more clearly now, noticing how Jake’s face was softer and Josh's features were in sharper relief. They were still a matched pair, and Sam clearly took after them in their good looks, but Danny was the one who really held your attention with his tall, broad, and dark aspect.

You all piled into Danny's car, and as they let you have the front seat, you learned that they usually rode together since they were all coming from and going to the same place.

“It’s my turn with the aux,” Jake said, reaching for it.

“No sea shanties, please,” Sam said dramatically. 

“Let kitkat have the aux if she wants,” Josh chided. “She’s the guest.”

“Oh, um...” You took the cord when Jake handed it to you. “Are you sure? What if I pick something you hate?”

“Try us,” Danny said. “Between the four of us, we have a wide variety of musical interests.”

You pulled up your Halloween playlist, thinking it was appropriate, and played “Werewolves of London”.

“Oh hell yeah,” Danny said. “Turn this up.”

“Hey, Dan,” Jake said. “This could be your theme song.”

He smiled. “I'll just put a Union Jack on my costume somewhere.” He glanced over at you. “You like Warren Zevon?”

“I love him,” you said. “Excitable Boy is my favorite album of his.”

“That’s because you have excellent taste,” he said seriously.

You were pleased that he liked what you’d picked, and all of you sang along as he drove past rolling farmland back into the city proper. He pulled up to a diner you’d always wanted to try but had never had a chance to, and the five of you found a booth in the corner and placed your orders for a variety of classic diner food and a round of coffee.

You talked and laughed as you had your late-night dinner, and the more you got to know Danny and his brothers, the more you liked them. When you were finished, you lingered over your coffee and waited for the milkshakes you ordered; you hadn’t wanted a whole dessert to yourself, and Danny offered to split his with you.

Your pumpkin pie shake came with two striped straws, and you giggled when Danny’s nose brushed against yours as you both took a sip. You saw Sam, Jake, and Josh watching you with amusement and affection and couldn’t help but blush.

“Sorry if this is too early to say,” Josh said, “but you two are cute together.”

Danny blushed too, but his smile was pleased. When you were done, he stood and said he was going for a cigarette.

“You want to come?” he asked.

You took the hand he offered and smiled up at him. “Sure.”

He led you outside, and you thought you heard the boys talking about the two of you as you left them. The night air was chilly, and you moved close to him for warmth and maybe something more.

“I have a pack in my jacket,” he said, and you realized you were still wearing it from when he’d given it to you earlier. 

“Oh, I totally forgot,” you said, making to take it off and give it back. “I’m sorry.”

“No, that’s okay,” he assured you. He pulled it back on your shoulders and made sure it was snug. He smiled. “You look better in it anyway.”

He pulled a pack of cigarettes out of the pocket, along with a lighter, and his face was all sharp angles and warm colors in the light of the small flame. 

“You want one?” he asked.

“Sure,” you said, taking the one he offered you. “Thanks.”

He lit it for you and closed the lighter with a little click. He brushed his thumb over the surface of it in an absent, thoughtful touch, and you wondered what he was thinking.

“Thank you for taking such good care of me,” you said.

He smiled. “You’re welcome. It’s my pleasure.”

“Do you ever go through the haunted house?” you asked after a moment. “Not as an actor, I mean.”

He shrugged. “I’ve never had the chance to. I guess I would like to, just to see if from the other side.” He grinned down at you. “Why, are you thinking of coming back in a fit of insanity?”

You gave a soft laugh. “Maybe,” you said. “If I had a big werewolf bodyguard with me to keep me safe.”

He didn't say anything for a moment, but he looked at you with such tenderness and attention you could hardly believe it was directed at you. You didn't consider yourself pretty, certainly not someone to attract such a look from a boy as pretty or as kind as he was, and you felt beautiful under his gaze.

“Can I have a fit of insanity too?” he said. “Just for a second?”

You unconsciously tipped your face up towards him. “Just for a second.”

His smile was impossibly affectionate. “Can I kiss you, kitkat?”

“Please,” you said softly.

He moved slowly, giving you time to pull away, and when he kissed you it was gentle and warm and undemanding. Your whole body felt warm and tingly with something you didn't think you’d ever experienced before.

You sighed when he let you come up for air, and you were glad that he stayed close, his nose brushing against yours.

“I really like you, kitkat,” he said, quiet and sure.

You twined your fingers with his, thanking your lucky stars for haunted houses and big, scary werewolves and everything that was going to come with them.

You smiled and kissed him again. “I really like you too, Danny.”

danny taglist:@tearsofbri@busybeingtrash@myway-late@gotavansleep@gretavanbri@stardustchxrds@pxppylove @bajabule69 @radmads-gvf@sunnykiszka@audgeppp@ageoffleeet@stardustjake @for-ur-love @aspenkiszka @aspenchosetheroad

gvf taglist:@malany-gvf@spark-my-nature@eearevee@madneedshelp@demonrat444@josh-iamyour-mama @honeyandsweettae @mydarlingdanny@gretavandann@sacredjake@myleftsock@joshskittytickler21@hellowgoodbye@watchingovergvf2@fearfulspirit@mywaysoon@carbondancingthroughtime@caprisunsister @eraofstardustchords @sacredthefran@shesawomaninadream @serendipiti @demonrat444@wildflowerxx-x@tearsofdanny @iluvjoshkiszka @jordie-gvf-admin@demolitionndann @hi-hi-hello11@wildbluesorbit@nessie-glorpa@laneygvf

@gvfrry@ohhey1293@the-chaotic-cow@mountain-in-springtime@xserenax-13@stardustjtk @brooke-gvf@weightofdreams-gvf@jakeydoesit@gretasmokerising@hayley1623@doodle417@finestoflines@brokenbellz@bowievanfleet@s0livagant@strugglingtodoshit@s-u-t@kay-jordan@gretavanfleas@jakeyboiiiiiii@gretavansteph@gretavanbitches@myownparadise96@luverleaver@weightofdreamz@greatervanfleet@maedesculpaeusoubi@jakekiszkasbestie@pineapple-photographer@baguettejuliette@alexxavicry@levi-wants-ur-bones@carlybubs@cowboysamkiszka@dannyandthekiszkas@jordierama@slutforsteve@starshine-wagner@quartzzzzzzz@edgeofdreams@writingcold @lostoverseer @catharu77 @mackalah@jaketlove @haileygvf @blacksoul-27 @ur-m0ms-blog @hi-hi-hello11 @wildbluesorbit @nessie-glorpa @laneygvf @madneedshelp @dreamsingxld

#i hope you love it!! i think it's pretty cute :3 #danny wagner x reader #danny wagner fanfiction #greta van fleet fanfiction #gvf fanfiction #danny wagner fluff #maddie writes stuff! #gvfhalloweenfics

[pumpk1n-writes]

Tell Me About The Dark Places You Hide ~ Part Four

➥ in which the reader figures out that their best friends are the infamous Woodsboro Killers and decides to help them rather than turn them in. {ft. Mentions of murder; language; stalking; smut (in this chapter); whiny Billy; knife play (ish); bondage; hand job; use of darling, princess, babe, baby boy; aftercare}

Part Three; Part Five || Word Count ~ 1.1k {finally broke 1k!! Hopefully I’ll be able to keep up with the rest of the parts!!}

Taglist ~ @wasawattpadkid @itzlovelyautumn @katie-tibo

The media you consume is your own responsibility and I will not be held accountable for your choices. I’m not going to block minors from this account, but proceed with caution anyway.

The mask lay discarded somewhere behind you. You’d tied Billy onto the dining room chair and both his and your knives were set carefully on the counter next to you. Your shorts kept riding up your thighs and your cropped shirt showed just enough tantalizing skin to make Billy wonder why the plan was to kill you rather than try and seduce you.

“What are you doing, Princess?” Billy asked. He thought he did a good job hiding the quiver in his voice until you laughed and patted his arm.

“There’ll be no more of that, babe. At least not until you know me better,” you winked at him. “As for what I’m doing to you, it’s all up to you. If you cooperate, it’ll be better for both of us. I won’t have to gut you and stab me and I won’t have to pull a frightened little girl act out of my ass for the cops to believe me.”

“And if I do cooperate?” Billy shifted his thighs uncomfortably, ashamed of the growing hardness there. He never knew he was apparently into bondage and knife play but if this is what it took to figure it out, hopefully it plays out the way he was currently picturing.

Your gaze shifted downwards and Billy realized that his uncomfortable movements hadn’t gone unnoticed. Your eyes shot back up to meet his, but he saw no shame, instead they were filled with the mischievous look he saw in Stu night after night. “Well that depends entirely on you, Loomis. What would you like me to do?”

Billy didn’t say anything, only staring into the depths of your eyes and hoping you didn’t make him beg.

“What do you desire me do to you, Billy?” You said his name with a strange mixture of contempt and arousal, and it only served to turn him on even more. “Use your words, baby boy.”

Billy barely trusted himself to speak without sounding desperate, but if that’s what it took for you to finally fucking touch him. “Please, princess, touch me,” he breathed, voice low and raw.

“Oh, Billy, Billy, Billy, you don’t get to make demands right now,” you laughed, dancing around, his knife in your hand. You reminded him heavily of someone who belonged in an asylum, with the way you handled the knife and the insane laughter that escaped so freely out of you. Add that to how different you seemed in front of others, and you had a combustible formula that was sure to go down in flames.

“What do you want?” Billy managed to bite out. He was so hard it neared the threshold of pain now, and your repeated action of dragging the knife over his cheekbone wasn’t helping.

“I want in,” you said it so matter-of-factly that it took a moment for your words to fight through the haze of arousal clouding his mind. “Whatever you and Stu are planning, I think it needs a lady’s touch, and I want in.”

Billy nodded, dropping his head and breathing heavily. “Yeah. Yes! Fuck, whatever you want, please.”

“Excellent!” You clapped your hands. “Now I’d say you’ve been particularly cooperative, and you seem so needy sitting there, I’d be evil not to do anything about it!”

Billy nodded along, not really paying attention to what he was agreeing to but just hoping you’d start doing something soon.

Slowly, ever so slowly, you removed his Ghostface cloak and slid his pants down to his boots. His fully erect cock sprang out against his toned stomach and the tip was angry and red. Billy hissed as he made contact with the cold air, his head hanging backwards, leaving his neck exposed.

He startled as you dragged the knife over the veins in his throat, whimpering as your fingers trailed a featherlight, barely-there path down his chest. As soon as your fingertips brushed the tip of his cock, he jerked his hips up into you hand, moaning embarrassingly loud.

“Oh, my darling baby boy,” you smirked, leaning in to bite his earlobe. “So sensitive.”

And that was the last warning he got before your hand was fully wrapped around his cock, thumb periodically swiping over the tip. Billy’s hands strained against the ropes. He wanted to grip your waist, longed to feel your hair under his fingers, shower you with the same pleasure you were giving him. He whimpered against your shoulder, leaning in to bite the base of your neck.

“Let me touch you, princess, please,” Billy whined. “Let me make you feel good.”

Your lips ghosted over his. “Not today, baby boy. Tonight it’s your turn.”

In an act of boldness, Billy captured your lips with his own, drawing you in for a desperate kiss. He bit your bottom lip, exploring your mouth. Until the pace you’d set with your hand increased and he groaned, his head dropping back and mouth falling open.

“Let it go, darling. Let it go.”

That was all the encouragement Billy needed to come undone in your hand. He moaned and whined as you stroked him through it, waves of pleasure wracking through his body.

Billy opened his eyes after a few minutes to see you carefully and tenderly washing him off with a damp towel, having untied him already. He realized he was laying down in the couch and wondered if he’d passed out. Shortly after that thought had shot through his mind his cheeks reddened in embarrassment as he realized he’d come so hard in your hand he had blacked out.

“Can you stand?” You asked, helping him sit up. He waved your helpful arm away, despite his gratitude. He wasn’t used to being taken care of after sex, and he had to admit, letting go of control and letting you take the lead had led him to the biggest orgasm of his entire life.

He stood up without an issue, and quickly gathered his clothes, getting dressed without a word. You saw the look on his face and didn’t attempt to start a conversation, instead sitting in the couch where he’d been and watching him leave.

School tomorrow would be awkward.

#billy loomis scream #scream #scream 1996 #billy loomis #scream 1996 smut #scream smut #smut #billy loomis smut

[beefboyandbabygirl]

can i request pleasee? wonwoo oneshot based on taylor swift's song "the very first night" because i'm in need of smutty with extra fluffy in it ☹️😔

Very First Night

⊱ ━━━━.⋅ εïз ⋅.━━━━ ⊰

pairing: ex!wonwoo x fem!reader

genre: smut, fluff, exes to lovers

warnings: this is SMUT MDNI!, oral (f receiving), regular smegular missionary, making out, exes getting back together, brief mentions of clubbing and alcohol, petnames (baby, darling)

quotes from beefboy: "it's FIERCE" (sorry thats the only one i dont feel like scrolling thru all our messages AHHA)

wordcount: 1k

a/n: first request yaaay!! i know im a little late into the game by now (my summer vacay is pretty packed lol), but in case ur confuuuuused, hiii im the bbygirl to the beefboy (aka user @joshibambi), im taking care of all the requests xx. And im gonna be v honest here and say i hadn't heard this song until this request lol, but i took this task SERIOUSLY and i love basing fics on songs (i make a playlist for all of beefboys fics, its true), so like keep em coming. i rlly hope u like it!! (this was a v long a/n lmao i promise they wont all b like this).

You watched his name on your phone screen, displayed in your contacts in a row amongst many other w-names. Wiliam, Wade, Walter- Who the fuck was Wylan? You tried to pay attention to any other name but his.

Wonwoo.

And then you thought, fuck it. It wasn’t like things had ended on bad terms. They had ended on we-are-busy-and-maybe-we-should-try-something-new terms. It was easy. An honest talk on the couch during a chilly Friday afternoon, and you had decided it was the best option. For the both of you.

And it was only after the fourth weekend out with your friends after the breakup, you realized what had happened.  

You missed him. You missed him so bad, you wished you could abandon the strong drinks and sweaty air of the bar that reminded you so much of your very first night with him. But you didn’t. You didn’t say a word as you danced under flashes of pink and red with strangers. Nobody knew.

Nobody knew how much you missed him. Not until now.

“Hello?” 

He sounded confused, maybe even a little startled when he answered your call. Maybe you should have told your friends so they could have talked you out of this afterall.

“Hey Wonwoo.”

“Hey…”

You realized you hadn’t actually planned what you were going to do from here. 

“Do you- Like, wanna come over?”

It went silent on the other end again, and the question echoed in your head, suddenly sounding pretty wrong.

“I mean- Not like that, just like if you wanna talk, you know? Catch up and stuff, I just wanna make sure you’re okay and-“

“Y/n, let me stop you right there.”

Well. That didn’t seem too good.

“I, uh- Okay, fuck, this is really embarrasing, but I’m- I’m already here.”

“…What the fuck?”

“Yeah, and I was gonna do this whole- I don’t know this whole thing, and now you’ve ruined it, actually. So thank you.”

The familiar sarcastic tone of his voice made you giggle as you got up from the couch and sauntered towards the door.

“Really? What kinda thing?”

You were teasing him now, but hell, you had already decided to call your ex on a lonely late night. Might as well go all out.

“This whole…Romantic thing, I know it’s stupid, I’m sorry, but I just-“

Before he could continue, you pushed the door open, and there he was. Not a particularly spectacular sight, to the average person. Dressed in sweats with his glasses (your favorite pair. The slutty ones), sliding down his nose a little, exposing the fact that he probably ran all the way up the stairs. 

And still he was beautiful. The most beautiful you’d ever seen him.

“…So do we talk first, or do you wanna-?”, he asked. 

“I was thinking fuck first, talk second?”

“I wanna kiss you first though.”

“Kissing is an integral part of sex.”

“I know, but I wanna kiss you now.”

“Was that your romantic thing? Burst into my apartment and kiss me?”

He shrugged.

“I figured you’d like it.”

You took a step closer to him.

“You were right.”

At some point during the kiss you both made it past your doorstep, lips pressed together tightly and limbs intertwined in all sorts of impossible ways. 

Once again you were brought back to your first night together. How you practically jumped into his car, and he pressed the gas as hard as he could, and the lights and neon signs were so pretty it felt like they were there just for you. How you stumbled through the hotel room door all smitten and giggling, the sounds of the busy city life behind the window not even coming close to drowning out the sound of your pounding hearts. It was written in the sky that night, the longing, the want, the need you felt for each other. 

You were brought back to the present when the air got punched out of your lungs, as your back hit the mattress of your bed. Wonwoo crawled on top of you, his eyes meeting yours. 

You kissed again. Your limbs intertwined again, and clothes flew all over your room as you scrambled to get back to each other after all this time. you knew then and there that your very first night together was going to be incomparable to this feeling. This feeling, in this moment. 

His lips kissed their way down your body, not leaving a single spot missed until he met your clit, his nose brushing against it ever so lightly. 

“Don’t tease, Won- Ah.”

He couldn’t dream of teasing. Not now, when you were right here, and even though he didn’t get to tell you the words he had memorized, he couldn’t really care. Not when all he could think of at this moment, with his lips wrapped around your clit and tongue prodding at your hole, was you.

“God, so fucking good, missed this fucking pussy”, he mumbled into your dripping core as you gripped his hair tighter and gave in to the inevitable urge to grind against his tongue. 

“I know you’re close baby, come on. Cum for me darling.”

With one last flick of his skilled tongue you were falling over the edge, a rush running through your body that couldn’t compete with any other feeling.

Still in a daze, his chin coated in your wetness, Wonwoo made his way back up your body until his lips were on your neck and his hard cock was grinding against you. 

“Need you Won, need you so bad, please.”

Your voice was barely a whisper, as you ran your nails down his toned back and nipped at his earlobe in a desperate attempt to get him to do something. Anything. Everything.

“I know, I know. Need you too baby, you have no idea.”

He was almost panting, and soon enough his struggling breaths became a long content sigh as your sweet pleas and whines had him pushing into you, your familiar warmth sucking him in.

His thrusts were sharp and deep and fucking perfect. You didn’t want it fast, didn’t want it hard or rough, you wanted it real, wanted it to be just him and you and nothing else.

“Do you know-“

Now he was truly out of breath, heavy sighs and grunts tumbling from his swollen lips right next to your ear as you shut your eyes in pleasure.

“-How much i missed you? Missed you so fucking much, I should have never, fuck, never let anything get in the way.”

God, how nice it felt to know he had missed you. And how nice it felt for someone to finally know how much you had missed him. 

Between a hundred more I missed you-es, you dragged each other through the fall, him after you (ever the gentleman), and between many quick kisses and a few drowsy ones you fell asleep in his arms. 

Just like the very first night.

#jeon wonwoo smut #jeon wonwoo x reader #seventeen smut #seventeen x reader #wonwoo fluff #svt x reader #svt smut #wonwoo oneshot #seventeen oneshot #bbygirl🦌

[urlibragirl]

summary: after a date with eren, you decided to confess to him

warnings : mdni!, fluff, fem!reader, p in v, unprotected sex, just eren not knowing how to express his fellings for you, angst if you squint

word count : 1242

It was a bright sunday afternoon when you and Eren decided to spend the day together. It was not the first time that you and Eren had done this. You guys met in a clothing shop were he works, so one day you decided to ask for his number and he said yes. 

That’s how you guys started to have dates every week and more, and after each one of them, you felt like Eren did not find these moments you spent together enjoyable. He never smiles, he never holds you or compliments you so each time you thought this date would be the last. But, to your surprise, Eren would always ask you if you wanted to hang out another time. 

 For this date, you and Eren decided to ditch the usual routine and hit the arcade. You guys were welcomed by the neon lights and the cacophony of the sounds. “Game on?” you challenged, a mischievous glint in your eye. 

Eren smirked, a hint of amusement gleaming in his gaze. “You’re on, but don’t expect me to take it easy, “ he retorts, his tone laced with a playful tone.

From racing cars to battling aliens, the afternoon unfolded in a whirlwind of games and laughter. But amidst the competition, there were stolen glances and shared smiles that spoke volumes. 

But it was in the quiet moments between games, when the world seemed to slow down and the noise faded into the background that you caught glimpses of the real Eren, a joyful boy with eyes and mouth wide open with excitement.

After a particularly intense round of air hockey (which you may or may not have won by narrow margin), you found yourselves outside the arcade, the fading sunlight casting on the pavement.

“I didn’t know you were so good at this,” Eren remarked, a genuine admiration in his voice as he nudges you playfully. You grin, feeling a rush of triumph. “Beginner’s luck, maybe?” you tease back, enjoying the easy banter that flowed between you. 

But you didn’t want to feel the same way as you felt after every date, where you recall every cold sentence he could have said to you, wandering if he enjoyed his time with you or not. “Do you wanna go back to mine?” you ask him, “I have some leftovers from yesterday if you want?”. 

“Yeah why not,” he answered nonchalantly, again. As you walk back home, the memories of the arcade lingered, your mind wondering if this side of Eren was the real one.

Back at your apartment, with the weight of unspoken feelings hanging heavy in the air, you finally gather the courage to speak your mind. 

“Eren,” you begin, your voice barely above a whisper. “There’s something I want to tell you.” 

 He turns to face you, his eyes searching yours for answers. “What is it?”

“I…I’ve been feeling like maybe you don’t really like me,” you admit, your words tumbling out in a rush. “The way you act, the way you’re always so distant…I can’t help but wonder if I’m just fooling myself into thinking there’s something between us.”

Eren’s expression softened, his eyes filled with a mixture of regret and understanding. “I’m sorry if I’ve made you feel that way,” he murmurs, his voice barely audible above the sound of your racing heart. “The truth is, I’ve never been good at expressing myself. But that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you. In fact, it’s quite the opposite.”

“I’ve always struggled with expressing myself,” he begins, his voice hesitant. “Growing up, I learned to keep my emotion bottled up, to push people away before they could get too close.”

You listened, you heart aching with empathy as he opened up to you. “But with you, it’s different,” he continued, his tone earnest. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone before, and it scares me. But I want to try, for you.” 

And then, as if drawn by an invisible force, you leaned in, your lips meeting his in a gentle kiss. 

Time seemed to stand still as the world faded away, leaving only the warmth of each other’s embrace. You knew that you had found something truly special–a love that defied words, a connection that transcended time and space.

The kiss quickly started to get heated when Eren placed his hands on your hips, kissing you with more hunger than before. “Let’s go to my bedroom okay?” you asked. Eren picked you up from the couch. When you guys arrived in your bedroom, you started to undress each other. Eren gently placed you on the bed and as you laid here, naked under him, his heart pounded in anticipation. 

His hands traced soft patterns along your skin as he gazed down at you lovingly. “I want this to be perfect for you,” he whispered tenderly before pressing his lips gently against yours. The kiss started off slow but soon deepenned into something more passionate; their tongues dancing together in an erotic tango that left them both beratless. 

With one hand cupping your face gently until reaching its destination, nestling between your thighs causing a shiver to run through your body. His fingers teased at your folds, parting them to reveal your wetness. You arched your back slightly in response, inviting him deeper. With a low groan, he lowered himself onto you, filling you completely. 

Each trust sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body as he took control yet again. Your nails dug lightly into his shoulders, urging him forward even though you knew it might hurt. But all thoughts flew out of your mind when he looked down at you with those intense blue eyes filled with love and desire, it was enough to make any woman melt. 

Your bodies moved together in perfect harmony, lost in the moment. Sweat dripped from your foreheads as Eren grunted with each powerful stroke. The air around both of you sizzled with raw lust and unbridled passion. Every touch seemed to ignite another spark within you both, fueling an inferno that threatened to consume everything in its path. 

And then suddenly, without warning, Eren let out a primal growl before throwing his head back in ecstasy. His movements became erratic yet controlled as he found release within you, his voice echoing throughout the room as he cried out your name over and over again.

As you caught your breath, you couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment wash over you. Looking up at him, you saw nothing but tenderness in his eyes. Reaching out, you ran a finger lightly across his cheekbone before trailing it down his chest and resting it over his heart. "Thank you," you murmured softly. "For being honest with me...and for tonight." 

He smiled warmly down at you before leaning in close once more, brushing his lips against yours in a sweet goodnight kiss. 

As the sun began to rise above the horizon, you snuggled deeper into Eren's embrace, feeling safe and secure in his strong arms. He wrapped his other arm around you protectively, pulling you flush against his chest. You could hear the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, matching yours perfectly. This simple act of affection made you feel cherished and loved beyond measure. You closed your eyes, savoring these moments of peace and tranquility before drifting off to sleep once more, dreaming of a future filled with happiness and endless possibilities.

#eren yeager #eren x reader #eren jaeger #eren smut #eren aot #aot official art #aot #aot x reader #aot smut #aot fanart #shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan #snk #levi ackerman #levi aot #mikasa ackerman #armin arlert #armin x reader #armin x annie #armin aot #eren #jean kirschtein x reader #jean kirstein #jean aot

[lovingelegance]

I love how you wrote for Scaramouche! I know you said he was a brat, but what if he wants to find out what a reward from you is like? So could you please do a "good boy" Scaramouche x reader

Thank you so much!! I appreciate your compliment, this is also an interesting concept and I’m willing to write it!

|| “Good Boy” Scaramouche X Reader ||

Includes : Anal, Orgasm denial, Reward, (Fulfilling his request and cuddles along with kisses) Praise, (calling him “Good Boy”) and Nipple play. | please notify me if I’m missing anything!

You blankly stare at a wall, thinking. Particularly thinking about Scaramouche. “Ahem..” a familiar voice spoke out. The person you were thinking about right now. Turning your attention to him, you focused gazing at him. “Yes..?” You say softening your expression. “Uhm- How do you earn a reward?” Scaramouche nervously asked. “It’s simple, just be a good boy for me.” a grin was on your face while you were speaking. “Oh.. how do I exactly be a good boy for you?” He asked more nervously. He felt a bit more embarrassed asking this question, you wonder why he was asking these questions. Wait, does he actually want to find out?

“Just do as your told.” You say now making eye contact. Scaramouche makes his way onto your lap, “I want a reward from you..” he whispered in your ear. His awkwardness suddenly turned into confidence and that’s what you loved about him. Placing one of your hands on his thighs, “Is that so..” you murmur while tucking his hair behind his ear. He nodded and slightly bit his lip. Slowly pulling down his pants, then his shirt. There was no complaints. So he is serious about this huh? Seeing the lingerie he put on for you made you feel warm inside, the lace looked amazing on him. “Got all dolled up for me?” You say seductively. “Of course.” He responded, that’s what you like to hear.

He was impatient, you both knew he was. Although, to be a good boy he had to do what you wanted. First you played with his nipples, he craved for more.. “Oh fuckkkk~..” his head tilted back, he covered his mouth with one of his hands. Even with his efforts, you could still hear the sounds coming out of his mouth. The harder he tried to contain them, the more he would fail at it. Personally, You just adored it. Shortly you lick his nipples, just but not quite sucking on them. Scaramouche was letting out strangled moans, he would usually look at you with those teasing feline eyes of his. Now it’s different this time around, he looked at you with the puppy eyes. The look you don’t often see on his face. You were quite fond of the look on his face, you wanted to keep it throughout this whole round. You could feel his breath on your skin, “Shit!- I-I think I’m gonna-” you stopped. He had a surprised look on his face, it wasn’t new to him but he wasn’t expecting that. Scaramouche thought it was easy to get his way with you but he thought wrong. Again, you started to touch his nipples again.

Scaramouche felt like you were edging him for hours, he wanted his reward and had to be good for you but he didn’t know how much longer he could last being edged like this. “Shh.. I know how you feel, you can take a few more for me right?” You say in a low tone. “Yes- I can..” he says with a bit of hesitation, though the hesitation stopped when you praised him. “Good boy.” Hearing those words come out your mouth awakened something in him. It made him more eager, more needy, and more aroused.

“Nnghh- oh fuck..!” It was the last time. He could feel it, he knew it. You were going to say something, Scaramouche prayed for it to be praise or for your words to allow him to finally cum at last. “Cum for me, my good boy.” Well, lucky him. “Gonna cum- please-!” He whimpered. His stomach finally felt relief. “Do you want you’re reward now?” You asked him. He almost forgot about it until now, “Yes..” he said. “How would you like me to fuck you?” You say sternly. His eyes widened, blinking confusingly. “What do you mean..? By that..” you roll your eyes as he said that. “You know what I mean.” You say somewhat teasingly. “Slow but rough.” Scaramouche says while leaning his head on your chest. “You sure?” You made sure by confirming he actually wanted that. “Yes.” One word is all it took and you slammed your cock/strap in him. “UNGH!~” He moaned out loudly. You made sure to keep your pace slow and fucking him roughly as well. Every time you thrusted back into his hole he would cry out. You could tell he was going to cum by his body movements and the sounds he was making, “Want me to go faster?~” saying in a flirty manner. “Please— I beg of y-you!” He whined out once again. You complied with what he wanted and so he came again. “Now the next reward is a million kisses and cuddles!!~” you say excitedly. He shook his head but still accepted each and ever kiss/cuddles you gave him.

Want the opposite (?) of this?

Here you go, I wrote it a while back :)

A/N: I hope you liked this! And of course, if not you can always request something else <3

#scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #sub genshin #sub character #dom reader #dominate reader #genshin smut #genshin impact #genshin impact scaramouche #genshin scaramouche #sub scaramouche