#hold me tight until we can feel each other's heartbeats

[iliektehhaxs]

I was thinking of the calling your boyfriend your husband trend on tiktok and I started thinking about the 141 boys reaction to it, so enjoy 🥰

Simon

It’s completely on accident, you’re checking into a hotel for your anniversary and it slips out, not even aware you’ve introduced him as your husband until the receptionist repeats it back to you.

“Mr. And Mrs. Riley, correct? Here’s your key card.”

Your heart skips a beat, ready to correct her when Simon eagerly takes the thin piece of plastic.

“Appreciate it. Me and the missus have a long day ahead of us.”

Fear turns to surprise, which turns to glee all in the span of seconds. The elevator ride is filled with the sounds of each floor, as well as your racing heartbeat. Simon’s tight lipped as usual, but you notice he seems much more relaxed, compared to your frantic state.

He called you missus. You might have done it on accident but there was no excuse for your boyfriend, you know him well enough to say that with confidence. He’d never joke about something like marriage if he didn’t really mean it.

Simon’s the first one to speak when you enter your room.

“So, husband? That the alias we going for?”

You rack your nerves for anything to say, eyes darting from Simon’s eyes to the floor. He can tell it was an accident, but he can’t help tease you a bit, you’re adorable when you’re shy.

“Far from the worst thing I’ve been called—suppose we keep the nickname after the vacation, yeah?”

Gaz

He gets very proud, if he was a dog his tail would be wagging faster than the eye could see. He wouldn’t doubt his new nickname for a second, loving every minute.

“Husband, yeah?” He says, an infectious smile spreading across his face. “That’s it then?”

“Mm, yes it is,” you reply, barely able to hold back your own amusement.

“Where’s the ring then?”

“I’m sure I could buy you a ring pop—“

The noise of disappointment that leaves him is criminal. “A bloody ring pop? That’s what I’m worth now?”

“Yup,” you answer, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Because you’re as sweet as one.”

He huffs indignantly but doesn’t pull away from you, so you keep kissing him until he’s forced to return the favor, lips against yours.

Johnny

He’d be the first one in the relationship to call you his wife. He’d say it was an accident, but then he’d be a liar. The first time it happens is a month after you’ve been dating, he’s talking to a friend on the phone and casually says—

“Yeah, I’ve got the wife cooking me up something nice right now, can’t wait to eat it.”

—to which you turn around, stunned. For a moment you think you heard him wrong, until he turns back to you smiling like the cat who ate the cream.

You don’t question it, but you can’t deny how warm the title makes you feel. His little Freudian slips keep happening over the course of your relationship, and after a year he finally gets the courage to call you his wife—officially, this time.

Price

It comes naturally, John always calls you anything but your name and you having your own assortment of epithets for him. You two were often confused for a married couple with the way you hang off each other, so why not lean into the idea?

You’re greeted with the heavy sound of his footsteps, the jingle of keys outside and then the sight of him fills the doorway.

“Got you the mail darling—bloody junk mailers don’t know when to quit.” He says, leaning down to place a kiss on your forehead. His beard tickles your skin as he does—a welcome comfort you’ve become more than used to.

“Mm, thank you baby,” you whisper. “You’re the best husband a girl could ask for.”

“Husband?”

His lips are turned in amusement, while you’re becoming more nervous with each passing moment. You start doubting whether or not he’d be comfortable with the name, confidence waning with each second.

“Boyfriend, I mean,” attempting to backtrack but John doesn’t let you get away that easily.

“No no no, don’t start lying now,” he grins. “Go ahead, say it again for me.”

He thrives off your embarrassment, enjoying the way you hesitate to answer. “Don’t leave me waiting doll.”

“It was an accident,” you sigh in defeat. A lie, of course, one that John sees through immediately.

“Didnt sound like an accident to me,” he says, leaning down to kiss you again. “And suppose I wanted to call you my wife, what then?”

You stammer, unable to answer. He smiles at your dumbfounded expression before leaving you to your own thoughts.

#call of duty #call of duty fluff #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #soap x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #price x reader #captain price x reader #john mactavish x reader #john price x reader

[11fflower11]

Hold me, hold me tight in your arms until we can feel each other's heartbeats.

#quote #me #love #heart #heartbeat #i love you #hold me tight until we can feel each other's heartbeats #i love you more than words can say #not enough? youbare everything #oh no #aesthetic #fflower #mine #anxiety fflower #introvert fflower

[shu-porang-porang]

Slow Moments

He's yours and it's raining, life couldn't get better!

Pairs: Lee Minho (Lee Know) / fem!reader

Theme: fluff, explicit

Warnings: cock warming, not proofread, 18+ NO MINORS

Word count: 0.7 k

You had plans to dine out tonight, but the soft drizzle of rain turned to a somewhat thunderstorm. You open the window and take a deep breath, but you have to close it soon since the cold air makes you shiver. You stand there, looking at the blurred city lights through the glass, listening to the pitter patter of the rain. The dim lights of the evening invite you to stay in the coziness of your apartment

You feel his arms wrap around you from behind, he kisses the side of your chin.

“All I wanna do right now is cuddle up with you.” He says as if he read your mind.

“Me too.”

“Really? So can we have our dinner date tomorrow night?”

“Sure baby. Just let me make some coffee, then we can cuddle all you want.” You turn on your hill to give him a quick peck and then disappear to the kitchen.

Minutes later when you’re back with two mugs of hot coffee with milk and cinnamon, you find him sitting on the bench beneath the window, peering out the view. You place the mugs on the table next to the bench and sit in his lap. His hands are quick to circle your torso as he rests his chin on your shoulder, the soft tuft of his hair tickling your neck.

At moments like this, it feels as if the time has stopped, as if the whole world stayed still, and you two are the only people in it, the only people who matter. You don’t know how long you sit there, utterly silent, only the rain and the occasional sipping of coffee can be heard.

He’s done with staring at the rain, he can only control himself so much when your bodies are flushed against each other like this. He starts with lazy kisses on the side of your neck, he takes his time with each kiss, closing his lips on a patch of skin, giving it a lick, sucking a little, and finally letting go of it with a wet smooch. You roll your head back to give him more access, your hand reaches behind his head to play with his locks. He does the same to your shoulder and when your sweater stops him from further marking your skin, he lifts his head up to kiss your chin, working his way along your jawline, your cheek and finally his lips are brushing against yours. You adjust yourself in his lap so you can properly kiss him. His warm wet tongue swirls around yours, probing every corner with so much excitement as if discovering unmarked lands. You pick up the faint taste of cinnamon on his tongue. His hand slides under your sweater, rubbing your side.

He needs more, you can sense it, but he knows how much you love the rain, so he’s holding back until it’s over, then he’ll take you to bed and make love to you properly. For now, he can settle for a make out session by the window. You, being the sweet caring girlfriend you are, decide to give him some relief. So, you break the kiss to say: “I wanna try something.”

His big boba eyes meet yours with curiosity, waiting for more explanation. Your hand fumbles with his waistband and drags his sweatpants and boxers down to free his member. It’s not entirely soft but you need it fully erect for your little plan. You stroke it up and down while kissing his neck, his head rolls back and little whimpers start to fall off his lips. When he’s hard enough, you pull your sweats and panties down and align it with your soaking wet entrance. His eyes screw shut as you slowly sink down on it.

“Let’s stay like this while it’s still raining. I’ll keep you nice and warm for me.” You say as you rest your body against his, your head on his chest where he’s heart is beating with excitement. He holds you tight in his arms, peppering kisses atop your head, whispering sweet nothings in between.

Feeling full and wrapped in his warmth, somewhere between listening to the melody of raindrops tapping against the window and his heartbeat pounding against his ribcage, you fall into a slumber. He lets you have this little rest as he’s gonna make sure you won’t get much of it later that night.

#lee know smut #lee know #lee know imagines #lee know fluff #lee know drabble #lee know drabbles #lee know x reader #stray kids #skz #skz fanfic #skz x reader #skz smut #skz imagines #skz d #stray kids fanfic #stray kids x reader #stray kids smut #stray kids imagines #stray ki #stray kids fluff #kpop fanfic #skz drabbles #stray kids drabbles #kpop #stray kids scenarios #kpop smut #bang chan #changbin #hyunjin #seungmin

[a-hazbin-reader]

HELLO HELLO I HAVE ANOTHER ONE BUT ITS A 2 IN 1????? ALASTOR AND READER REACTING AND HELPING ONE ANOTHER DURING A PANIC ATTACK??????? PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

I GOTTA DO IT I JUST GOTTA-

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: Panic attacks

Description: ☝️⬆️

SO-

It's really REALLY difficult to get Alastor to honestly open up to you about ANYTHING, even as his S/O

He will keep everything to himself, not out of any maliciousness but because he's not used to letting his guard down

Hides most of his fears behind his smile and quick wit

But you don't land The Radio Demon himself by not knowing him and his inner turmoil by not seeing the signs

You can see the cracks in his persona before even he can, knowing when he's about to break down

You try to talk to him about it beforehand, but he always brushes you off, telling you that he's fine

He tells himself that he's fine that everything is under control

It's always a little thing that sets him off, the last straw that broke the camel's back

Doesn't even realize that he's losing it until there's tiny tear pricks in the corners of his eyes and he's gripping his head so tight that he's hurt his scalp

Just repeats to himself that everything is fine, everything is okay, he's got everything under control

Breaks your heart when you see his painfully tight smile and watery eyes, shaking like a leaf

"Alastor..? Oh honey..."

Flinches when you place a gentle hand on his back, surprised that you snuck up on him

Tries to lie to you, bottle his emotions back up and may even try to seduce/fluster you depending on how frazzled he is

But you see through it, you always see through him

"Hey no...it's okay to be upset..."

Reluctantly leans on you, letting you hug his head to your chest until his hyperventilating stops and he's soothed by your heartbeat

Will put all of his strength into not letting himself cry, digging his claws into you as he grips you tight

His shaking finally stops once he relaxes into your hold, accepting your comfort

Don't make him explain himself, just help him ride it out until he can be himself again

When you two pull away he'll try to go on as if nothing had happened, springing up with renewed energy

Please don't comment on what happened, he's already embarrassed

"Alastor, come talk to me next time...okay..?"

"...I appreciate the offer, my dear."

That's the most you'll get out of him but he does start listening to you when you tell him to take care of himself

If anybody tries to pry into it then he'll just try to scare them off or redirect their attention

It's hard being so evil

You on the otherhand-

Whether you follow your own advice or not, everyone has a panic every once in a while, it's natural

It sneaks up on you and hits you like a tidal wave when it does happen, you hardly register your body crumpling to the floor

You feel so sick-even the air tastes bad

You can't breathe-where is the air???

Your body is white hot and ice cold all at the same time and your thoughts keep racing and-

You're in someone's lap suddenly, curled into their chest as sharp hand soothing the back of your neck

Your mind is so fuzzy from panic that you can't even recognize who it is, only instinctively leaning into their scent

"Y/N, whatever has you so upset, I promise we can face it together..."

Alastor-

He lets you throw your arms around his neck and bury your face into his shoulder, only holding you tighter in response

Pretends that this is just a normal conversation the entire time, talking endlessly about his day and what he did

Somehow it works and you find yourself calming down, becoming invested in his story

Before you know it, you're laughing at something Alastor said Niffty did and you've forgotten that you were ever even having a panic attack

Alastor doesn't let you go even when you move to get off his lap, unwilling to part with you after seeing you so vulnerable

"Let's just take a little time to be with each other, shall we?"

If you want to talk about it then he'll listen while keeping his lips pressed to your temple, giving you reassuring squeezes

If you don't want to talk about it then that's fine, he's not going to force you or even bring it up again

Either way, the moment you two part ways then he's back to his witty, snarky self and he expects you to be yourself too

If anybody asks, he'll just lie and say you two were playing twister

Charlie two years later: They weren't playing twister...

It's a horrible lie but he doesn't care, he dares them to question him and his precious S/O

I HOPE THIS IS GOOD ENOUGH FOR YOU!! I wanted it to be soft 😭

#alastor hazbin hotel x reader #alastor hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader

[anantaru]

❝ 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐈𝐓 ❞ 𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐎

୨୧ "you can take it" scenario feat. diluc : childe : al-haitham : zhongli : pantalone x fem! reader

୨୧ WARNINGS: nsfw : cunnilingus : blowjob : rough sex : sprinkle of size kink because we love big men

𝐃𝐈𝐋𝐔𝐂

one was for certain, diluc, without fail, touched you with great caress, your body continued to be viewed as delicate in his eyes. His muscles in the misty, dimly lid room were almost indistinct, hidden, only your hands tracing over them gave his defined sculpted figure away.

however, as of now, his cock was resting on top of your warm cunt, swollen and fully erect. Diluc held his breath before letting go of it in a heartbeat, silently placing his arm above your head while the other one got a hold of his stiff cock, his brows furrowing upon feeling him twitch in his palm.

"it's not going to fit." you complain, attempting to rub your thighs together without completing it, unable to do so with diluc in between your legs. The overwhelming temptation to slip himself past your tightness wasn't reaching peace in his mind. "do you trust me?" whenever he spoke with you, it felt different, intimate, his warm breath coating the shell of your ear.

you responded with a nod, your eyes drawn to his gaze with diluc's guise comforting you. The charm he held in his voice was soothing, as soft as silk that engulfed your body beautifully with a smile crossing his features. "you can take it, love." your teeth snatched at your lower lip, carved up in a slight pout with diluc laying his tip right against your hole, digging past the tightness.

he didn't try to force it, never, diluc waited for you to naturally let him in while also simultaneously adjusting to his size, watching your tense face fall easy, relaxing with your eyes clouded before closing them, mouth falling wide. He intertwined his fingers with your own, your nails digging into his hand to fight the slight uncomfortable pain in your lower area, but also to show diluc that you were okay and wanted to continue.

𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐄

it awakened a dirty feeling in him but childe refused to ever break eye contact with you, watching you hover over his length with you kneeling in between his thighs. He grinned, he was a sneaky little shit, you were painfully aware of that fact, not to mention how much he enjoyed this right now, all the whining and mewling about him being horny as fuck paid off today, with you finally giving him head in the most erotic way possible. Your tongue slowly darted out, sliding to his swollen tip.

before actually going on to pleasure him you made sure to lap your tongue around your lips, coating them with enough saliva, ready to finally wrap yourself sinfully around his girth. You could feel the stare he had on you, drumming on the back of your neck as you playfully parted your lips, placing them on his tip before taking him in, flattening your tongue right underneath his length.

"come on baby, you can take it." he gently cleared his throat, gasping out as he felt his tip prod against your cheek with you changing the angle, slipping him in until you weren't able to go further.

childe almost went cross eyed at the sight, he felt so incredibly desperate and frustrated tonight, not to mention hot and bothered, the tension in his groin finally developing into a much more pleasurable feeling with your warm mouth caressing him like that.

the tough act in him broke with the additional whines and groans filling you with pride, your saliva trailing down the sides of your mouth with your tongue flicking over his hardened vein. You drew out each stroke, taking your time, bobbing your head back and forth as ajax fully succumbed into your embrace, emerging into a mess while you proceeded to wrap him around your finger.

𝐀𝐋-𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐌

"you're getting sensitive, aren't you?" al-haitham deducted, placing his thumb over your aching clit before applying pressure behind his play, his eyes darting to your body to see you tremble beneath him. He matched the circles from his thumb to the grinding of his hips, beginning to move faster with his sculpted chest wantonly rubbing against your erect nipples, enjoying the sensation of being inside of you and your walls grabbing him beautifully.

"i'm so close again." clearly sensing the desperation in your voice, he changed the sharp angle of his hips and the way they thrusted into your aching cunt without wasting a single moment. Al-haitham couldn't hold himself back anymore, not when he realized that goosebumps erupted on your skin with his thrusts being the trigger, both hands drawing you closer to him.

warmth and tenderness, more so the raw weight of his body on top of yours made your breath come in short spurts, "i can't, it's too much." you shut your eyes while wrapping your arms around him, hiding your head in his neck as the tingling excitement in you was too much to bear, gasping with your orgasm so very much close to appearing in front of you.

"you can take it." words continued to flow out of his mouth easily, cherry picked and ready to be thrown at you, his voice muffled against you as your blood drummed in your ears, your climax suddenly snapping open and filling your body with rippling thrills of ecstasy.

you starvingly pushed his head to yours, catching him off guard, hungrily dragging your lips to his own as he hummed into the kiss, your climax hitting you hard and driving numerous cries from your throat. Your legs shivered involuntarily with al-haitham soothing you through the trembling aftershocks of your body, "see, i told you."

𝐙𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐋𝐈

zhongli was always so impossibly gentle with you, soothing you after every trembling lick from his tongue, twirling his wet muscle in between your folds. You were beyond words, unable to voice your pleasure with the way he handled you, with such ease, completely figured out and all your sweet spots in his grasp. You continued to find sweet pleasure hidden in his kisses, caresses and his skilled tongue, melting into his touches as he nibbled on your folds, coating his taste buds with your essence.

"fuck." you're crying, drawing out a half broken moan as zhongli slowly proceeded to slip the first finger in you, your warmth and natural slickness engulfing him with your walls flexing around his digit, trying to pull him further until he was knuckles deep in you. He pushed you closer to your orgasm with each minute, excited on how you're going to unravel in front of him as you angled your hips up.

"do you think you can take it?" lust seemed to float into his expression, the tension in your body growing harder, stronger, with his filthy words only eliciting said factor, "i don't know." the chorus of mewls and whines which left you sounded heavens made in zhongli's ears, a breath coated laugh coming right from him as he added another finger.

"you can take it." the wash of slight discomfort from the added finger and additional pleasure surged through your body, your fingernails digging and scrapping on the bedsheets under you. Any signs of uncomfortable pain swarmed away, awareness of your orgasm hitting you pooling into your thoughts.

the pace on his fingers continued to be in sync with the raw strokes of his tongue, shivering in delight as you released your essence on his mouth, your hips twitching into him with overstimulation soothing through them. You plopped back onto the slightly damp pillow, your hair a mess with zhongli resting his head against the inside of your thigh, panting out with his chin covered in your slick, "i told you, you can take it."

𝐏𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐄

"come on, open up open up." being intimate with pantalone always came with its difficulties in the beginning, your legs were spread a bit more with you presenting yourself to him. "it doesn't fit." you complained again, it was always the same thing all over again, pantalone would eat you out for hours, continuing to scissor your sweet hole and yet still, his cock just wouldn't fit, the frustration in your eyes was visible with your lips tightly pressed together.

"you can take it, come on." he assured you with his huge hands on your hips, drawing you closer until his tip hit your folds. Pantalone understood what you needed, not to mention what you had to hear so you'll loosen up for him, your tight hole was fluttering around nothing as he slightly pushed himself in, his tip digging into the soft flesh.

you arched your back into him with your legs flying up to wrap around his hips, one of his hands holding onto the headboard so he wouldn't suddenly crush you with his weight, going easy. Pantalone took his time, it was a tight fit, as always, with him aching so badly to finally be inside of you again, yearning to release himself deep with his cook fully sheathed.

going through the numerous sinful emotions you mewled upon feeling the familiar fullness of him, stretching you. Your cunt was sore without him even moving yet, throbbing in beat with your heart, gasping as he dragged his hips away only to snap them back in, your breasts bouncing up with the impact. "fuck, just like that." pantalone's voice reminded of a deep growl, pinching your nipples and setting a pace he knew you'd very much enjoy right now.

do not! share, copy or repost my work. ✎ ©ANANTARU 2022

#genshin impact x reader #genshin smut #genshin x reader #genshin impact smut #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham smut #diluc x reader #diluc smut #childe x reader #childe smut #zhongli x reader #zhongli smut #pantalone x reader #pantalone smut #al haitham smut #al haitham x reader #genshin x you #genshin impact x you #diluc x you #childe x you

[wonwoonlight]

Through the night, through the day - Seungcheol (unfinished)

A/n: a little something from my discontinued wip that i really wanted to finish but no longer has it in me to. Happy three years to this blog, here's to writing for yourself and not validation of others 🍻 thank you for all of you who have been reading my stuff up until now.

Loosely inspired by: AKMU - Last Goodbye, Adele - All I Ask

Seungcheol isn’t sure who’s to blame for the current situation he finds himself in.

Is it his because he fell out of love first?

Is it yours because you refused to break up with him even after he honestly told you what love he had left for you is barely romantic at this point?

Or is it his because he had let you refuse the break up simply because he felt too bad about forcing it on you?

But he believes as much as it’s a mutual decision to start a relationship, it’s also a mutual decision to end it. He certainly still loves and cares for you enough not to simply leave despite your refusal to end the relationship; but what he has for you is not something he thinks he should be feeling for a girlfriend.

He misses that spark. That thrilling sensation and the way his heartbeat would pick up at the sight of someone’s–your–smile.

And, unfortunately, it’s practically nonexistent now and, at some point, he hates himself for losing it because you still look at him like he holds the universe while he simply feels a pinch in his heart because he feels bad.

His phone lights up with notification, a picture of you and him grinning at the camera flashing before the screen turns black again. He sighs as he takes another sip of his drink, the alcohol burns his throat the same way your smile burns his heart.

Jeonghan’s right. He needs to be stern and stop dragging this more than necessary. The both of you deserve better; him, to finally stop feeling guilty because he can’t leave you behind, and you, e to find someone that will love you like you deserve to be loved.

At some point, Seungcheol knew the role was his to fill, but that’s no longer the case and prolonging this would only hurt the both of you in the future.

Like the two of you aren’t hurting on your own already now.

He bites his lip as he imagines the hurt in your eyes and the forced smile you’d give him.

Fuck.

He downs the shot and orders another.

*

Seungcheol imagined you’d be pressing your lips together as you suppress your tears, shoulders tense and jaws tight when he tells you once again he thinks it’d be better for you two to break up.

After all, that was your reaction the first time around.

What Seungcheol did not imagine, however, are your empty eyes and the way your hands limply stack against each other; your shoulders hunch in defeat and a corner of your lip twitch a faint smile for a millisecond before it turns straight once again.

Like you know it’s coming.

Like you’ve been bracing yourself for it.

There’s a painful squeeze in his heart at the way you’re not meeting his eyes, and he fights fights fights the urge to take your hands and apologize because he’s the one that’s ridding himself of that right.

How is he supposed to handle you like this?

Then again, isn’t this an attempt to let go of that responsibility? Because he doesn’t know anymore how to handle you without the romantic filter over his gaze towards you?

He’s starting to think it would be much better if you had been crying instead.

“Okay.” You say softly, voice barely even a whisper. But it doesn’t matter because he’s heard it and his eyes widen because he doesn’t think you’d agree so easily after the fight you put out last month. “But… Can I ask you one last favor?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you take me to that camping ground we went to two years ago?”

He blinks, not expecting it at all.

“The one we went to for our first anniversary?”

For the first time in so long, the smile you give him doesn’t make his heart lurch with guilt.

He suddenly tries to think back when was the last time you actually, genuinely smiled at him with happiness in your eyes.

You always have that fond look in your eyes–something so soft and full of love–even after he asked for the break up last month. You still look at him that way after that and even right this second.

But happy?

When was the last time you laughed happily in his presence?

“Yeah. I’ve always wanted to go back but don’t really have any reason to…” You frown to yourself, your lips purse in a way that makes him want to squish your cheeks like he used to. “A farewell trip… if you will. Is it okay?”

“Sure.” He says without thinking. That’s the least he can do for you; he hasn’t exactly been the best boyfriend nor even person in general the past month, and the fact that he’s staying with you out of obligation because he doesn’t know how to break it off after your argument has been eating him inside out. If this is what you need to finally let him go, he doesn’t see why it would be a bad idea.

He still cares for you. Just not in the way people in a romantic relationship should.

For you, he’d still do anything if it’s within his reach.

For you, he'd still do anything to make sure you're happy again.

You’re still his friend before anything and Seungcheol always always tries to do his best for his friends.

“When do you want to go?”

“This weekend is fine if you’re free.”

“It’s Mingyu’s birthday, I already promised we’d go out for a drink. Is next weekend okay?”

“Sure. Do you want me to make the booking?”

He shakes his head. Perhaps it’s him wanting to compensate, but if this is going to be a farewell trip, might as well do everything for you so he can convince himself it’s okay to let go of the guilt he’s been holding over himself if only a little.

“I’ll do everything. You just wait and be pretty, okay?” He smiles cheekily, which you can only smile back in return despite the way your heart cracks little by little at how easy the words tumble out of his lips.

And he wonders why you find it hard for you to let go.

*

“Why are you brooding like your screen has personally offended you?” Jeonghan asks, plopping on the sofa next to Seungcheol.

It’s game night, something he and his friends promised to hold at least once a month. It’s Jeonghan’s turn to host the night, and Seungcheol has come almost two hours early only to focus on his macbook and barely even says anything to him, the owner of the place.

Not that it’s a rare occurrence, Seungcheol does have the tendency to do this from time to time. Just barge into his place, grunts a greeting, and leaves after an hour or two.

“I’ve been trying to book this spot in the camping ground but it’s not available.” He sighs.

Jeonghan tilts his head, interested. Seungcheol hates planning with passion, yet he's apparently doing a very thorough research for some reason.

He looks at the amount of tabs open on his laptop, and when he asks about them, Seungcheol simply says he’s making an itinerary and is currently checking all the possible places he might visit around the camping ground. He points out some places, says their pros and cons and where he currently stands about visiting them.

“Who’re you going with again?” When he mutters your name, Jeonghan can’t help but get more interested. “Didn’t you say you’re breaking up with her?”

“Yeah. She said she wants to go there one last time… I don’t know. For old time’s sake, maybe? Anyway, I don’t see anything bad about it so I guess why not.”

“You’re breaking up with her.”

Seungcheol sighs and puts away his laptop. His best friend can get like this sometimes and, at the wrong times, it really gets on his nerves.

“I am. It’s a goodbye trip of some sort, okay? She said we’ll break it off after that. Just one last trip, that’s what she asked; how can I not give her that?”

“Why would you go on a trip with someone you’re breaking up with? Isn’t that kind of the point? To stop seeing each other?”

“Look, I’ve been with her for three years, almost four, even. And it’s not like we’re breaking up because we’re fighting or what–I fell out of love. It’s on me. And I still care about her and treasure the time I’ve shared with her. If there’s anything I can do to make this breakup bearable for her, I would.”

Seungcheol clenches his jaw at the way Jeonghan is looking at him; his eyes calling him stupid and pathetic at the same time without his lips saying anything.

“You’re just compensating because you feel guilty, then.”

“And it’s wrong for me to do that?” He fumes, not getting where his best friend is going with the talk. If he thinks this is one of those days when it’s fun to push all his buttons just for the sake of it, Jeonghan definitely chose the wrong topic to do so. “Why are you complaining, anyway? It’s not like I’m making you come with me. Do you not like the idea of me giving her closure? Do you secretly dislike her all this time?”

Jeonghan looks at him sharply, daring him to say more about how he feels about you. He knows Seungcheol threw the last sentence just to spite him, because of all his friends, you’re closest with Jeonghan and the feeling is pretty much mutual. Of all the partners Seungcheol has had, you’re the one that clicks with him the most; you seem to care about Seungcheol’s friends the same way you would your own friends. If there’s anything Jeonghan appreciates, it’s loyalty.

Always loyalty.

He’s sure he would also be devastated due to your break up with Seungcheol if it means he might lose someone he treasures as much as you.

“It’d only be harder for her, you asshole.” He grits his teeth. “Why would you give her hope by doing this much preparation for a fucking goodbye trip?”

“Because she asked for the trip!”

“What you’re arranging is a romantic getaway not a goodbye trip!”

Seungcheol falters a little at this, and before he can say more, the intercom beeps, signaling the other guys’ arrival. They share one last look with each other before Jeonghan gets up and opens the door, Mingyu’s rowdy voice followed by Wonwoo and Seokmin immediately dissipates the tense in the living room.

A few hours later, it’s still a little awkward between Seungcheol and Jeonghan, Wonwoo and Seokmin approaches them separately, and when the only thing they get is a set of reassurance that they simply had a disagreement, they let it go and decide it’d be best not to bring it up for now.

“By the way,” Seokmin opens the talk as Mingyu puts down cans of beer on the table. Seungcheol immediately reaches for one and the others wait for Seokmin to continue talking. “Is your girlfriend okay? I saw her in the hospital today.”

The way Seungcheol immediately chokes on his drink would’ve been funny otherwise. He wants to make sure that it’s his girlfriend Seokmin is referring to, but he’s currently one of the only two people with a partner in this room and one of them is Seokmin himself.

“I–what?”

“Oh… you didn’t know?” The younger guy winces, though he thinks it’d be best to tell Seungcheol anyway. No matter how small it might’ve been, he would want to know if his girlfriend somehow had to visit the hospital. “I was visiting a friend and I saw her walk out of the building but she didn’t see me and she was already too far away for me to call for her.”

“She didn’t say… I didn’t even know she went to the hospital.”

Jeonghan holds back a snicker, of course he wouldn’t know. Seungcheol hasn’t exactly been attentive to you since the moment he realized he’s falling out of you, head too deep in guilt and his own thoughts that he forgets to actually take a look at what’s in front of him.

The conversation goes elsewhere, and once Seungcheol is sure the attention is no longer on him, he whips out his phone and texts you to ask if anything happened.

[20:31] did you go to the hospital today? seokmin said he saw you

[20:44] 💜: oh, yeah. severe cold case, no worries tho! Is seokmin ok?

[20:45] you literally said severe, how am i supposed not to worry?

[20:35] why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve gone with you to the hospital

[20:47] 💜: it’s still just a cold haha. i simply got checked just in case. but they made sure it’s nothing but cold.

[20:47] Calling 💜

“Please stop trying to make it look like you’re not sick.” Seungcheol cuts immediately into the case, standing in the kitchen where it’s less noisy. “Why didn’t you tell me? I was with you a few days ago.”

Huh. Wait.

Was that why you looked a little out of it?

He closes his eyes in contempt and curses himself for not noticing. No wonder you looked so lethargic. So much for a boyfriend.

“It’s really just a cold, Cheol.” You try to reassure him, though your strained voice nor the cough that follows right after aren’t really doing a good job doing so. “You know the weather has been crazy these days.”

“Still. Why would you go to the hospital alone?”

It’s not easy for you to blink back your tears as you press your lips together, hoping Seungcheol would mistake your heavy breathing is due to your cold. You wonder if Seungcheol does all of this purposely. What a cruel man he is, asking you to break up with him and then scolding you for not telling him you’re sick, that he’s worried and asked if you want him to come over tonight.

Does he or does not want to cut ties with you?

“Cheol… Look–I… I simply thought you’re busy and it’s no big deal. I should be fine after a few good night sleep, they didn’t even prescribe me that much medicine and that should say something, right?”

Something stirs in him at how exhausted you sound, and he imagines you’re laying down in your room by the sound of rustling he hears across the phone.

“Have you had dinner?” He asks instead, looking at the digital clock on Jeonghan’s fridge.

“Not yet. Maybe later.”

“Alright, I’ll just wrap it up here and come over.”

“What?” You immediately sit up, not exactly pleased with the way this conversation is going. “No, Cheol. Just hang out with the guys, I’ll be fine.”

“You’re sick, why would I be here?” He argues.

You sigh, not sure anymore the cause of your headache.

Is it your cold?

Is it him?

Probably both.

Why is Seungcheol so adamant in taking care of you when he has asked to break up last month and then asked once again not even a week ago?

Why couldn’t he be a jerk and just leave you alone?

Why does he feel the need to make sure your feelings are still intact when he has, according to himself, no longer felt the same intensity he thought one should have when they’re in a relationship?

It’s really your fucking fault for asking for him to reconsider. But, then again, you didn’t expect him to accept it at once–what was even the point of asking for a break up if you’re going to crumble after one refusal?

You didn’t know what to say the first time he asked for it. Because you know… you know it’s coming. You’ve felt the way he’s been pulling away, the way he’s been less and less interested in what you have to say, and how he’s been enjoying his time not talking to you than the other way around.

It hurts.

It hurts so much because this is the person who used to listen to you like you personally hang every single star in the universe by yourself, one that used to stare at you and pay attention to everything you say because he said he doesn’t want to miss anything only to miss half the things you’re saying because he’s too busy staring at you.

And when he asked the second time… you pretend to cough to hide your sniffle, wiping the tears that have managed to escape your eyes before you try to hurriedly hang up the phone.

“Cheol, I need to–”

“I’ll be there in forty minutes.”

He arrives in thirty, fusses over dinner and your air conditioner system and forces you to rest even after you relay what the doctor told you; that you should be okay in a few days.

It’s 1 in the morning when he leaves your place, and he only does so after you pretend to be asleep in hope he’d go home instead of staying over.

You feel him caresses your cheek softly and pats your head before he leaves, and you’re pretty sure you can feel him staring at you for a good three minutes before you hear your front door click.

You fall asleep an hour later because you’re too exhausted from crying and your head is pounding because of the same reason.

Fuck Choi Seungcheol.

#seungcheol angst #seungcheol scenarios #seventeen angst #seventeen au #seventeen scenario #seventeen scenarios #seungcheol x reader #scoups angst #scoups scenario #scoups scenarios #khione.fics #seventeen x reader

[humanpurposes]

My Heart Belongs to Daddy, modern!Aemond

Series Masterlist // Main Masterlist // It's bad enough we get along so well

modern!Aemond x step-daughter

Warnings: 18+ smut, daddy kink, language, infidelity

Words: 1170

A/n: I just had this idea and couldn't get it out of my head so enjoy :) Also available to read on AO3.

“Say it.” His voice is rough and demanding, and a little breathless as he fucks into her from behind at a punishing pace.

She writhes in the bed beneath him, raking her nails over the mattress, burying her face into the pillows, desperate to take the edge off. “Please,” she half whimpers, “don’t make me say it.”

“You want to cum don’t you, pretty girl?”

Her body flutters at the thought. She decided some time ago his voice is her favourite part of all this, how he teases her, how he talks her through her pleasure and makes his demands.

“It doesn’t even make sense,” she mumbles, “you’re only two years older than me.”

He lets out a low hum, one she knows well by now, an indication of amusement and irritation at her stubbornness. His thrusts slow down but they become harder and more determined. The slapping sound of skin against skin becomes clearer and he leans down, brushing his lips against her ear as he harshly whispers. “I mean it, I’ll keep using you all night, and no matter how much you beg, how hard you cry, you’re not gonna fucking cum. Now-”

Her cunt is clamping over nothing and she’s on her back, gazing up into blue eyes blown with lust. He leans over her again, resting his forehead against hers. His voice is smooth and scathing. “I’ll ask one more time.”

She sighs, instinctively wrapping her legs around him to pull him closer. “I need you, daddy.”

She feels his cock prodding at her entrance, hard and eager, but as much as he loves the feeling of fucking her, he also loves to tease her. “Tell me what you need.”

Her back arches as he drags the tip through her folds and over her clit. The pleasure is mind numbing but she needs more. “I need your cock, daddy, to fill me up and make me feel good.”

Aemond presses a peck to her cheek. He loves her like this, body squirming, pussy dripping and eyes glazed, so desperate and needy, just for him. “Say please,” he whispers softly.

She lets out a little whine, but she could never be bad for him. “Please, daddy.”

He pushes in again, slowly, letting her feel the stretch and every inch of his cock dragging against her sensitive walls. “Does it feel good, baby?” He coos.

“Fuck… yes,” she gasps, sliding her arms along his shoulders and around his neck. She breathes in the smell of him, expensive aftershave, cigarette smoke and sweat. “It feels so fucking good.”

She feels him smiling into her neck. “Was that so hard, baby?”

They hold each other tight as he picks up the pace of his thrusts, she with her arms around his neck and him gripping at the flesh of her waist like she might disappear if he lets go.

And when those little whimpers of “ please , please, ” start to fall from her lips and her cunt flutters around him, he knows she’s close. 

“Come on, baby,” he grunts, “soak daddy’s cock.”

She falls apart under him and he fucks her through it. “Such a good girl for me, such a needy little slut.”

That night he has her cumming over and over again, pinning her to the bed, bouncing her on top of him, taking her from behind like animals in heat, until her eyes are teary and they’re both too tired to think.

When they’re both spent he pulls her into his chest so he can feel her breaths and her heartbeat against his skin. 

For now they get to exist in this bubble, in this fantasy of one another where they’re untouchable, the only two people in existence. But Alys will be back from her business trip in a few days, and they’ll have to return to their ‘normal lives’. Stolen glances across the dinner table, a hand on her waist as he passes her in the kitchen, nights when Alys is working upstairs and his fingers will slip along her thigh and tease her through her pyjama shorts.

Sometimes, if he’s not busy with work, Aemond offers to drive her to uni. It saves her having to get the train, and it gives them half an hour to tease each other, to test each other’s limits. She likes to palm his cock through his jeans and, despite her effortlessly sweet demeanour, whisper the filthiest confessions in his ear as he drives. He wants to pin her against a wall and fuck some sense into her, but by the time they reach a secluded car park on the campus, he has to settle with grabbing her hair and fucking her pretty mouth.

She had a lecture this morning and Alys offered to pick her up later in the evening (saying something about catching up after she had been away) so she figured she might as well use her time wisely and study with one of her friends.

“Does it not bother you?”

She looks up from the article that was already boring her to death.

Suddenly there’s a phone being waved in her face. Her friend has been looking at a LinkedIn post, an action shot of her mum from one of her conferences. Alys looks as glamorous as ever, black hair falling over an emerald satin suit, red painted lips pouted as she speaks to a faceless acquaintance.

But she imagines the friend is referring to the man standing over her shoulder. Aemond has a habit of wearing all black, and business is no exception, but even amongst professionals he wears his usual array of silver hoops and sapphire studs in his ears, while his silver hair is pulled neatly into a long braid. Her eyes linger on the jaw she’s made him tense, the lips she’s kissed, the eyes she so often catches raking over her body.

“Doesn’t it bother you that your mum’s dating a guy the same age as us?"

She feels her cheeks flush and looks back down at her laptop, pretending to look busy. “That’s not strictly true, he’s only two years older than me.”

Alys never told her anything about her father, and she never bothered to ask. Why would she? The Rivers girls had everything they needed. That was until, Alys came home with Aemond Targaryen on her arm. 

The moment she saw him she knew she was fucked. She tried to hide it, that gnawing, restless feeling she felt whenever he looked at her, smiled at her, muttered in her ear.

It’s wrong, she knows it, but then why does it feel so good when he runs his hands over every inch of her skin? Why does it feel so right when his cock is nestled deep inside of her, pushing her closer and closer to the high she craves?

She loves this little game of theirs, taking what they can from each other with the brief moments they have.

It’s never enough, they’re both insatiable, and every time she gets to feel him she needs him more.

#aemond targaryen #aemond x original female character #aemond smut #aemond fanfiction #aemond x y/n #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen fanfic #hotd fanfic #hotd fan fiction #hotd fanfiction #modern!aemond #my fics #stepdad!aemond #my heart belongs to daddy

[pix3lplays]

One of the things I like to think about Aventurine the most is physical contact.

(Hello, it's me after writing everything. Warning, I'm getting crazier every time and it shows)

I love giving hugs, shaking hands, patting the head, even if it's just holding his sleeve.

I'm delulu. But listen, simply spending a day snuggling with Aventurine, hugging him, smelling his cologne, being able to feel his hair between your fingers and kiss his cheek, and then kiss his lips

I'm so normal I swear

Watching a movie with him, eating soup in winter, with a blanket while sitting on the couch, watching something on TV... Then, just holding him and falling more and more asleep, listening to his heartbeat in your ear and it being the most calming, his calm breathing and the heat of his body cradling yours

Aventurine the next day after he has to go to work brings many gifts

Oh, too. Aventurine with a couple who constantly suffers from the cold in the winter

Aventurine for once thinks about what can be useful to you, so buy fluffy earmuffs, scarves, hats, gloves, pants, skirts, dresses, tights, jackets, vests

Bring the entire winter tent, only by the end you have so much stuff on you and everything is fluffy and/or extremely soft, joke that you're like a kitten

Aventurine, who, seeing that you don't usually buy jewelry because it bothers you to try on each ring or simply go out, measures each of your fingers, hire a fashion and image company, all to find the best for you and make it completely fashionable with it

I really think Aventurine is impulsive, but he doesn't give you things just because he likes them, he looks for the best on the market with dozens of professionals accompanying his decisions no matter how unrealistic it is

Aventurine, who begins to look for what you like, everything so that you use everything he gives you and that it is always the best of the best within inimitable

Aventurine, who becomes more obsessed every day with seeing that someone reciprocates her excessive actions without denigrating or insulting them in the process

Aventurine, who feels in paradise until he sees, what he gives you, even if it is the best, is not always what you will always use. Because it is not the only option and there are more, even if it is the best, you can always change to the "best"

Aventurine, who gradually begins to push the rest away from you just because he feels dazed. He doesn't want to hurt you, for once he really doesn't want to cause anyone any harm, but he feels good

Aventurine, who doesn't want to lose you because of his decisions, but doesn't want you to hate him either. He regulates his own actions, keeping others away but without making you feel abandoned

Aventurine, who feels good seeing you lying on his chest, asleep and listening to his heartbeat as if it were the most calming melody in the world

(Here we can see my descent into madness regarding Aventurine, I'm not doing well)

(How can I be this)

(I love Aventurine)

Aventurine driving someone to madness…why am I unsurprised…may your recovery be swift~

Aventurine fans, more Aventurine fanfiction!! Thank you, anon~

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #Aventurine #Aventurine x reader #Hsr Aventurine x reader #honkai star rail Aventurine x reader

[deadboyswalking]

Made myself sad because I imagined Yoichi and Kudo meeting again inside One For All.

Yoichi had been dead for a little while, yet unable to fully pass on as his soul echo lived on inside the Quirk. He was lonely again, trapped all by himself in another dark room because of his brother.

Suddenly, a blue light filled the room, so bright that he could scarcely look at it. It settled, slowly, and when he could finally open his eyes they instantly filled with tears.

Kudo. His savior. His beloved. Had he come to pull Yoichi out again? Could they be free together, under the sun again?

In his heart, Yoichi knew that couldn't be true, but he still had hope. Kudo always gave him hope.

His beloved had a sad smile on his face as Yoichi stumbled forward, pulling him into a tight embrace.

He was warm to the touch, just like the last time they'd held each other as Yoichi bled out. But there was no heartbeat, steady and sure. Not anymore.

Yoichi gasped, sobbed, clung to Kudo as the other man's arms finally encircled him again.

"Shhh, shhh, it's okay," Kudo said, running his fingers through Yoichi's long, white hair.

"No, it's not," Yoichi muttered, his voice nearly cracking on every syllable, "You look the same. Exactly the same. How long?"

Kudo did not require further elaboration. He sighed.

"A couple of months."

"This is my fault," Yoichi said bitterly, "If I hadn't... if I'd stayed in that room..."

"Self-martyring idiot," Kudo murmured, "He was always going to kill me. I scared the fuck out of him, you know."

Yoichi chuckled.

"I know. Still..."

"It's stupid to think of the what-ifs. I passed the power on to our friend, and he got away. I'm satisfied."

"Our friend is all alone, facing that monster, and we can't do anything," Yoichi said, "How can you be satisfied?"

"I have to be," Kudo replied simply, "What else is there? I'm mad as hell that he killed me and I can't fight him anymore, but at least I get to see you again, and hold you again." He tilted Yoichi's chin up with his finger and gently pressed their lips together. "And do that again too."

Despite himself, Yoichi smiled.

"I missed you."

"Same here. And our friend is strong and smart, so I think he'll be able to stay away for a long time. As for us, I think we deserve to rest for a bit, don't you think? Your brother can't touch us here."

A sickening feeling crept into Yoichi's gut just then.

"My body... what happened to it?" he asked quietly. Kudo stiffened, then tightened their embrace.

"Burned to ashes with my own hands," he replied, the choke in his voice audible, "I built the pyre, laid your body on it, lit the flame, and stood watch for hours until it was done. Until there was nothing left but ash to blow away in the wind."

"Kudo..." Yoichi started, reaching up for his lover's face.

"Our first time together, you told me about your brother's perversions," Kudo cut him off, pained and angry, "I couldn't let him touch you again, even if you were gone and only a corpse was left. You hear me? I couldn't let him!"

Yoichi brushed away a few tears with his slender hands as he gently forced Kudo to meet his eyes. Kudo had saved him, over and over, even when this last act of love had clearly broken his heart to carry out.

"Kudo, my love, thank you," he whispered, before he pulled his savior down into another slow kiss.

#shigaraki yoichi #kudo bnha #2nd user #one for all #ichinii #kudoichi

[peachesofteal]

I know you said later this week for heartbeat buuuuuuut a chance you could please post a sneak peek?

Since you asked so nicely. It's probably going to be next week at this point. This is mostly unedited and mostly just filth. It’s a flashback.

Simon Riley/female reader - from: Sassy Series, after Heartbeat / Chapter 2 Warnings-tags: 18+ Minors DNI. E for explicit, Jealousy, men saying gross things about you, brief mention of violence, thigh riding and Simon talks you through it, explicit sex, Simon having deep feelings while he's buried in you.

“I mean, did you get a good look at her?”

“Shit. I’d bury my face in that ass. EOD is air force, right? Think she’s got a landing strip?”

“Dunno but I’d be coming in for a landing all the time if she was on my squad.” The table of privates laugh to each other, and Simon’s fingers curl around the bottom of the beer bottle in front of him. He briefly considers, for a moment, if Price would dismiss him if he broke it over one of their heads and then used the shards to slit the rest of their throats. Bleed ‘em out right there on the table. 

He shifts on the stool. Johnny gives him a skeptical look. One of them, says something else. Sounds a little like ‘tight’ and ‘pussy’ strung together. Another one snickers. 

He’s on his feet behind them before anyone can blink. The low drone of rage pressurizes inside his skull. 

“Want to share what’s so funny, private?” The table falls silent immediately, all of them staring up at him, dumbfounded.

“N-nothing’s funny, sir.”

“Ya sure about that?” Johnny chimes in before Simon can say anything. 

“The bomb tech, we were just… appreciating her. Saying how nice it must be nice, having something to look at.” Simon can feel the heat of Johnny’s gaze on the nape of his neck.

“The bomb tech outranks you, private. You will address her as Sergeant.”

“Y- yes, sir.”

When he gets back to the base and little house the 141 is crammed into, you’re already asleep in your room. Sprawled across the shitty thin mattress, your shirt rucked up around your stomach, little boyshorts riding the curve of your hips. The scar from Belize is still shiny across your ribs, peachy and puckered. The sight of you safe and sleeping soothes the raw buzzing of anger in the back of his head. His girl. His. 

He’s already got his hands all over you by the time he gets his boots off, and you shift a little when he presses his face into the top of your ass. 

“Simon?” you mumble. “Y’okay?” Simon, Simon, Simon. It’s always Simon with you now. You’re constantly stripping him bare with it, and he doesn’t even know your name.

He teases a hand across your skin, over the scar and up under the peak of your breast to your nipple, where he rolls the already hardening bud between his fingers. You shudder with a moan, shoulders twisting to turn yourself on your back, but he stops you. His teeth find the swell of your ass, and he sinks them deep. You squeak. 

“Can you hold still?” He says, your body answering for you with a shiver. The bite woke you sharply, and you watch him out of the corner of your eye. 

He pulls the underwear down your legs until they disappear, and then sinks his fingers into your cheeks. The glisten of your cunt shimmers, already wet, already waiting for him. 

“Scoot back, sweet girl. Up on your knees.” You do as he says, shimmying down until you’re pressing against his thigh, clit ghosting against the fabric of his jeans, just barely. Your hips are shifting, slowly, and he knows you’re trying to get just a little bit more friction. He leans over you, gloved hand in your hair. “Now be good for me and rub your desperate little clit on my leg until you come.” You shake your head no and he rears back, pulling off his shirt and gloves, leaving the mask and his jeans the only thing on his body. He slaps you across your ass, just hard enough to watch the skin pink under his hand, and you jolt with a moan, cunt pushing back against his leg. “Do you want me to give you my cock, Sass?” you nod frantically. “Then ride my thigh until you’re coming on it.” The curve of a smile, a smirk, pushes at your cheek, and you start to move your hips, slowly at first, and then fevered, chasing your high while he watches. “That’s my girl, just like that.” 

You start to jerk erratically, your face screwing up into the little pout and he knows you’re close. “You going to come Sass?” You mewl pathetically, mouth making desperate sounds and he watches you rub yourself all over him. “Sweet girl. That’s it, just a little more. There you go.” Your gasps reach a fever pitch, and he groans. “Ride it out, good girl. Come all over me.” His jeans are smeared with you, but he praises you, telling you how good you were, how much he likes that you made a mess on him. Once you come down from it, he strips and presses himself along your back, rucking the balaclava up to his nose to pull the skin beneath your ear between his teeth. He wants to mark you, hard. Leave an impression of himself on your body, brand you down to your bones. Tomorrow, when those fuckwit privates line up for brief, he wants them to know. 

He sinks into you as deep as he can, little noises coming from your mouth as he splits you open on his cock, your cunt so tight it feels like it’s choking him.

“Si-Simon.” It’s his name, again. You’re flaying him alive with it. When you say it, it feels like he’s not wearing the mask, it feels like he is Simon, and not Ghost. He’s becoming addicted to it, consumed by it. It makes his head foggy, makes him do things that he’s never done, like approach a table of infantry and scare them out of running their mouths, or mark you like you belong to him. You cloud his judgement. You make him want things, things he doesn’t deserve, things he could never have. You make him soft, and desperate, and when you turn and look over your shoulder as he slams himself to the hilt, your gaze burns into him like you’re seeing him. Like you know. 

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #sassy series #peaches writes #simon riley #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x you #simon riley smut #cod mw22 fanfiction #cod fanfic #peaches asks

[werentwethestarsinheaven]

i’m your sun

george daniel x female reader

a/n: hi :) i don't really know what this is, but i guess it's sort of a continuation of this little thing i wrote yesterday. let me know what you think!

The crystalline water laps eagerly at the edge of the yacht, rippling on the barnacles that grip the fibreglass. The Amalfi sun seeps into you, leaving behind fresh freckles and pink tender skin. You lazily flip at the pages of a trashy romance novel, tossing it away and scoffing with annoyance when the Italian summer breeze tugs at your hair and sends it spiralling into your eyes.

George’s head perks up from where it lies in the crook between your thighs and your torso, carefully observing your change in mood, his bleached buzz cut tickling you. His slender fingers reach up to your forehead, fingerprints cold from the condensation that dripped off his icy glass of limoncello spritz. Coolness trails across your face, hair now gently tucked behind your ears. His touch keeps travelling, down your neck and into your sinking collarbone, his once cold touch now warm from your radiating skin. He hooks his fingers into the strap of your bikini top, toying and teasing, pulling lighty to reveal a harsh tan line that he attempts to soothe with soft caresses. The inked box on his thumb flexes as his hands continue to move lower, brushing over your breasts, his smirk deepening as he can feel your body tense. You expect him to keep moving, but he stops. The palm of his hand opening and pressing against your chest.

“Your heart is so warm, the sun’s too much angel, I think we need to to cool you down”, he murmers, brows furrowing with genuine concern.

“I’m fine,” you reassure, smiling at his overprotectiveness, holding his face with your hands and letting his stubble press into you.

“George, I’m fine I promise it’s not the sun,” you squeal, he ignores you as he picks you up, pulling you tight to his body. He stands at the edge of the yacht, eyes glistening with deviltry.

“I’m fine, I’m fine, it’s not even the sun it’s you-” Your desperate pleas are cut off.

He’s plunged you both into the ocean, the sea water immersing your bodies and immediately cooling your burning skin. You both break the surface at the same time, cackles and shrieks filling the humid air as you scold him.

“Why did you do that? You could have killed me,” you giggle, playfully sending a splash of water towards him.

He leaps forward through the waves of water and grapples to your shoulders, pulling you into his embrace. His forehead rests against yours, you’re both panting, hearts beating quickly. The distance between you closes, you never know who pulls in during these moments. He would tease and say it was you, while you argue it was him, deep down knowing it’s always you. You don’t think he quite knows the effect he has over you.

You can still smell the countless cigarettes he chainsmoked on the yacht, as well as the sneaky joint he let you have a few puffs of. You can still feel the sticky sun cream he generously applied, somehow blissfully ignored by the sun as a pink tinge has now crept on the bridge of his nose. You can still taste the limoncello, now mixed with a slight tinge of the grapefruit lip gloss he picked out for you at the airport.

Your lips move against each other languidly, wet and soft and passionate. Your fingers are curled at the nape of his neck while his wisp away at your hips. Pulling him closer and closer to you until you can feel his heartbeat pressed against your pebbled nipples. You need him closer. Your legs are coiling together beneath the surface, goosebumps sending prickles shooting from your shaven skin. The water ripples around you as you slowly drag him down, breathing heavily and softly moaning.

It all happens so quickly, now you’re underwater again. Lips still moving together, saltwater gushing into your mouths. Your hold on him grows impossibly tighter, digging your nails into his neck to hold him in place. You don’t even realise how long you’re both under for. How hard you’re clawing into his flesh. How desperately you need him. Sizzling bubbles, the last remnants of oxygen, rise against your bodies as your souls intertwine. You feel like one entity.

Muffles of screaming and thrashing limbs, his fingers finally pry your grip off of his neck.

You break the surface. He weakly pulls you both back onto the boat. You’re no longer in his arms anymore. He’s gasping and coughing and yelling, bent over at the waist. Your knees are pulled to your chest, your body shivering despite the sweltering sun.

“What were you thinking? Why did you do that?”, he spits, turning his head to glare at you, “you could have killed us.” He bitterly repeats the same words you told him earlier.

You fight the salt that stings into your eyes. You can’t tell if it’s the ocean water or your tears. He’s never spoken to you like this. You don’t know what to say. You yourself don’t even know what you were thinking.

“I want you to need me George,” you splutter, holding back coughs as sea water burns at the back of your throat.

“What are you even talking about? Why the fuck did you do that?” he hisses again, confusion and anger still flooding his eyes.

This time you don’t answer.

He just doesn’t understand. You want to be the barnacles that suction onto his body. You want to be the UV rays that burn and make the melanin in his cells scream. You want to be the one to splatter freckles onto his back. You want to be the salt that stings his eyes. You want to be his oxygen and his life.

He’s not allowed to breathe without you.

You want him to need you.

You don’t realise how long you’ve been sat there for. The wooden planks of your rented yacht imprinting it’s patterns into the flesh of your thighs. The sun is saying her last goodbyes, kissing the apples of your tear stained cheeks with an orange glow before sending the moon to glimmer in her place. It seems like George has left long ago, the half empty bottle of limoncello and the neat charcuterie board he delicately fed you earlier packed away and taken with him.

By the time you return to the villa you can tell George is already in bed. He left the door unlocked, the light by the entryway sends a flicker of warmth through eternal darkness.

You trudge through the villa quietly to not make a sound. A trail of your bikini and old sandals and a stolen button up of George’s is left behind you down the hallway. He lies in bed, his bare back illuminated in moonlight and facing away from the door, away from you. Your naked body is caked in salt and sweat and tears. You’re too exhausted to care. Climbing into bed, the ruffle of linen sheets cuts through the uncomfortable silence. You know he’s awake, you can tell by the way his breathing is unevenly paced. That, and you know he can never sleep without you in his arms.

You bring your hand to his back, tracing your fingers softly across his skin, admiring the constellations the sun has branded into him as freckles. You feel jealous of the sun, you wish to somehow eternalise yourself into his body too. Your eyes fall upon the back of his neck. The small crescent shaped indentations from your nails from today have faintly scarred. You reach up to kiss the little moons. You turn over, facing away from him, letting the everlasting flow of tears dampen your pillow.

He’s a barnacle that clings to your mind, the salt that stings your soul, the oxygen that courses through your veins.

Your silent sobs shake the bed, fighting with the movement of the mattress that sinks and rises as he tosses and turns. It feels like an eternity you lie there for. And then you feel it.

His lips press against your shoulder, arms wrapping around your torso. He pulls your soul into the crook of his body that is shaped like you. He sighs contently.

“I do need you my angel,” he whispers, lips brushing on your back. His open palm reaches for your chest.

“I’m your sun.”

#george daniel #george daniel fic #george daniel x reader #george daniel imagine #george daniel smut #the 1975 #the 1975 fic #matty healy

[20nugs]

Can you do a Matt fic, where the reader is terrified of flying, and on the plane Matt let’s her squeeze his hand and he whispers stuff to calm her. Just a lot of fluff and can it be where the reader and Matt are already dating pls? Like she’s flying to Boston with them to meet his parents for the first time and she’s just scared on the plane. I hope that made sense, I love your fics! <3

Flying (Matt Sturniolo x fem!reader)

summary: request!

cw: anxiety, kind of like trouble breathing due to stress?

a/n: based this off of my own experience of panic/anxiety. when this happens I have no one there for me to help because i don't tell anyone, so if the way Matt helped is inaccurate for you i apologize!

I jiggle my leg as I wait for the desk lady to call out our flight number. Matt and I are about to get on a flight to Boston from LA so I can meet his parents. I didn't tell him that it's my first time flying, and I'm panicking quietly about the fact that I'm going to be thousands of feet in the air in a metal tube with no way to escape if disaster strikes.

Matt places a gentle hand on my thigh, stilling my nervous shakes. "What's wrong baby?" He asks quietly, turning off his phone to shift his gaze to my face, his eyes scanning my expression. "Are you nervous to meet my parents? They'll love you, you don't have to worry about that."

"It's not that," I say, my voice strained as I try to calm my heartbeat that's currently moving a mile a minute.

"Then what is it?" He whispers, noticing my gaze that flicks around the room. The intercom crackles our flight number, and my heart and face drops, the moment I've been dreading for this entire time about to happen. Matt takes notice of this, and laces my fingers with his, helping me stand up. "You're afraid of the flight?" He asks, not mockingly, but curiously. "I thought you've flown before?"

I shake my head no quickly. "I haven't," I murmur. Matt squeezes my hand with his.

"I'll be with you the whole time," he tells me, slowly walking me over to our gate. "Since we're in first class, we're going to have a bed, will that make you feel any better?" I nod, my gaze on the floor as he gently pulls me along with him. We finally make through the gate and security, and start to board the plane. Matt wraps an arm around my waist. We make it to our section, and just like he said, there's beds. We put our luggage in the compartment and settle in, the sun already setting.

I hold onto Matt's hand with a death grip. I try to take deep breaths, but the room seems to be spinning and I can't seem to get a grasp onto what's going on, my breathing is shallow and everything around me deafens. My lungs falter, my ears ring and I can't keep my hands still. "Matt," I choke out. "I can't breathe."

He immediately attaches himself to me, an arm snaking around my waist. "Hey," he says, turning my head to look at him and placing my hand on his chest. "I'm here sweetheart. Try to match my breathing, okay?" I nod and feel the steady rise and fall of his chest. I match with him, our breathing in sync.

"Thank you," I murmur, hugging him.

"Anytime," he whispers, squeezing me tight. The flight attendant goes through the safety procedures and the pilot announces take off. Matt squeezes my hand, reminding me of his presence. I close my eyes, waiting for the plane to lift. I feel it take off, and realize as I open my eyes that it wasn't as bad as I thought it was going to be. "You okay?" Matt asks, looking at me.

"Yeah," I breathe, nodding. He smiles and softly kisses me, and I melt into it, grateful for him. We lay back, and cuddle each other until we fall asleep for the remainder of the five hour long flight.

____

a/n: this was a short one! I've never flown before, but I have experienced these symptoms. If anyone ever needs someone to talk to about this, my dms are ALWAYS open!

as always, if you see any errors let me know and have an amazing night/day! love yall ☆

#nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo x you #matthew bernard sturniolo #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo

[yabakuboi]

a little season 4 vol 2 "missing scene" but angst warning, it's canon compliant!

Eddie opens his eyes.

It shouldn't be a surprise, really, everyone opens their eyes thousand-million-billions of times, probably—Eddie's not very good a math. But still, he opens them, looks out into the world in front of him, and a stray thought flitters through his conscious that goes Wait, what? He can't really remember why, though, suddenly. Because—

Eddie opens his eyes. And Steve smiles at him.

"Hey," Steve says, easy as a breeze, no urgency, no brave-face. None of that fear hidden in his eyes when Eddie had asked him to make Vecna pay for him, to do something Eddie couldn't.

"Hey," Eddie says back, breathless.

Behind them, there's a noise, and Eddie almost turns around to look.

"Eddie," Steve says before Eddie moves. He holds out his hand, long fingers and trimmed nails and soft palms. He almost glows in the grey dark of the forest. "Come with me."

"Okay," Eddie says. And takes his hand.

Steve's smile grows, a flash of white teeth, and he laces their fingers together tightly as he begins to lead Eddie through the trees. There's another sound behind them, Eddie doesn't quite know what it is, but Steve pulls him away gently before Eddie can turn his head to look.

It sounded almost like someone crying.

They walk leisurely, like they don't have anywhere to be, and Eddie stares down at their hands linked together. Something squirms inside of him, almost a feeling of wrongness. He feels off balanced, but he doesn't feel scared. He feels like he should feel scared.

Steve squeezes his hand comfortingly. They can't hear the crying anymore.

"It's okay," Steve says, like he's reading Eddie's mind. "I don't ever want you to be scared. Not anymore."

It clicks then.

"You're not Steve," Eddie says. He comes to a stop.

Steve stops with him, doesn't try to pull him along, to force him to go. He turns back to Eddie, that sweet smile on his face. His thumb brushes against Eddie's, his touch warm and gentle.

"No," Steve admits.

"Are you Vecna?" Eddie feels like he should be shaking with fear, but he's not. Steve's hand in his makes him brave.

"No, no," Steve rushes to say. "I'm not here to hurt you Eddie, I promise. I'm only here to take care of you."

"Oh," Eddie swallows. He thinks about the person crying in the woods and he remembers Dustin leaning over him— "What, are you like, God or something?"

Steve shrugs. "Sometimes I am," he says, thoughtfully. He leans in close as he does, his other hand coming up to their joined hands. "Sometimes I'm Jesus Christ, sometimes I'm an angel. Sometimes I'm deities of other faiths. Most of the time I'm mothers."

"I—" Eddie starts and stops, suddenly overwhelmed. "I don't understand."

"That's okay," Steve says. He presses the back of Eddie's hand to his chest, and he can feel his heartbeat under his shirt. It's comforting, the steady rhythm, the warmth against his skin. "Take your time. We don't have to rush."

Eddie drags his other hand over his face, twitching when something tickles his cheek. There, on his left hand, tied to his ring finger, is a red string tied in a bow, with one long end hanging to the ground near his knees, the end of it frayed.

He tries to remember why he tied it there, what the reason was. But when he looks at Steve again, sees the sadness in his eyes, the sympathy, Eddie knows its something else. He doesn't want to ask.

"Why—" He croaks and clears his throat. Steve watches him patiently. "Why Steve then? If not my mom— If not an angel, or whatever."

"You know why," Steve says, indulgent. "At least part of that, you know exactly why."

Eddie clutches Steve's hand, fingers going tight in that gentle hold, knuckles white, his nails digging into flesh. Steve doesn't wince or shake him off, just gently tugs Eddie closer until they're standing toe to toe, heads bowing into each other. The short ends of Steve's hair brushes Eddie's cheek.

Eddie does know. Knows if it were his mom or his dad, angels or demons or gods, if they'd asked Eddie come with them, he wouldn't have. But he doesn't know why this, why Steve.

"He makes you brave," Steve says. He whispers it like a secret, says it into their joined hands, into Eddie's knuckles, into the breath between them. "He makes you feel safe." He reaches down and plucks the frayed end of the red string between two fingers, runs his thumb along the length of it, holds it like something precious in his palm. "He makes you hope."

A sob erupts out of Eddie then, and Steve releases Eddie's clinging hand to wrap him up in a hug, holds him as he cries. They stand there in the middle of this weird, other dimension as Eddie weeps harder than he ever has in his life, as Steve runs his fingers through his hair, humming a song that Eddie doesn't know the words to, doesn't recognize. Eddie lets himself hold him back, crushing Steve to him, just to feel a little more of that warmth, that steady heartbeat and gentle kindness. He gets it now, and he cries all the harder for it.

It was supposed to be his year.

"I know, honey," Steve murmurs, voice thick like he's crying, too, for the life Eddie doesn't get to live anymore. "I know, I'm so sorry."

Steve holds him until the tears stop, until Eddie's breathing evens out and he pulls himself away to scrub his hands over his wet face. He swallows a few times, trying to find his voice before he looks at him again.

He's still there when Eddie looks at him, that same gentle smile, the kindness of his eyes.

"What now?" Eddie asks, voice ragged.

Taking his hand again, his touch warm and soft, Steve says, "Come with me."

And Eddie goes.

#stranger things #steddie #dribble drabble #this came to me in a dream #i am sorry to main character death on your timeline forgive me #if i were to continue this there'd be a part where Death has to get him out of the upside down because it is a deathless place #so he has to get Eddie home to lead him into the afterlife #but when they get to the Fred portal Eddie's soul cannot go through it :0 #i say IF like im not opening a word doc now hello steddie WIP number 23 #shush mal

[jamies001fan]

30 minutes in heaven

pairing: Jamie x fem!reader summary: Helping Jamie calm down before his interview takes a turn, not that you're complaining. requested: yes! warnings: Smut (minors DNI), oral (f & m receiving), dirty talk, dom/sub dynamics, fingering, sprinkle of thigh riding and exhibitionism (people are outside), unprotected p in v sex (use protection!!), creampie, (if i missed any please let me know!) WC: 2,509 (i died writing this, enjoy.)

You turned around in the mirror again, smoothing out any wrinkles your dress might’ve gotten from the car ride over. Jamie was appearing on Jimmy Fallon later that night and you were ecstatic to join him in the green room and try to relax him. Your eyes fall to his reflection, him sitting on the couch on his phone, the TV on quietly in the background. A smile grows on your face as you look at both of your outfits, silently thanking your shared stylist for coordinating you so well. The silky, sparkly, nearly skin tight mid-thigh length red dress you had on complimented your body perfectly, and your white Louboutin heels made you nearly the same height as Jamie. Him in a red velvet suit, half buttoned white undershirt, usual jewelry, and matching white Louboutin dress shoes. 

His knee was bouncing as he sat, you could only imagine how nervous he was to go on later. You walk back over to the couch where he sat and reach for his hand, turning his attention from his phone, to you. A small smile grows on your face when you see him look up from his phone, his eyes making contact with yours. He leaves his phone on the couch as he takes your hand and stands up, wrapping his arms around you in a tight but comfortable hug. Both of you relax into each other and you can feel him gently rubbing circles onto your clothed skin. His arms loosen as he turns you around and wraps his arms around your waist from behind, walking the both of you over to the mirror.

“You look so pretty tonight, love. Such a beautiful girl.” His lips press kisses to the side of your neck, not enough to make you weak, but enough to make you lean into him more. Your hands move on top of his and you roll your head to the side instinctively so he has better access. His gentle kisses slowly turned into him teasingly biting your soft spot, making a shiver go down your spine. A sigh leaves you from the sensation and you can feel him smirk against your skin, kissing the new bruise while your heartbeat quickened. 

“J-Jamie, we can’t.” You stutter over your words as you go against what your body is feeling and pry yourself away from him, walking over to the couch as his arms drop to his side. The tenderness of your neck is hard to ignore and you bring a hand up to carefully graze over the mark, goosebumps spreading from the feeling of his lips on you. “You have to go on in like 30 minutes, we can’t start something we can’t finish.” He turns to face you as you speak and he lets out a quiet chuckle at your words. It wasn’t like you and Jamie hadn’t had quickies before, but there was a time and a place, and this wasn’t either of them. 

“We both know 30 minutes is enough time.” He walks over to you and pulls you into him, his hands firmly holding your lower back as he kisses you deeply. You kiss back, hands weaving through his hair, pulling at the strands by the base of his neck. You’re moved backwards until you feel the wall behind you, a groan leaving you at the feeling of it hitting your back. His thigh finds a home between your legs, moving it up until his knee rests against your clit. A moan leaves you as he pulls away, looking down to where his knee is, and feeling the wetness through his slacks already. “No panties love? God, you’re gonna be the death of me.” One of his hands reaches up to your face, brushing the few stray hairs behind your ear.

“Wanted to surprise you after the show, but now is okay too.” A quiet whimper escapes your lips as he grabs your hips with both of his hands and grinds them onto his knee. Both your hands go to his shoulders to steady yourself and your head tilts back further against the wall, eyes fluttering shut as he continues moving your hips. His lips find a home on your neck again, leaving another bruise that you’ll have to cover later. The sensations are gone suddenly, and you feel him grab your hand, leading you to the couch. He motions for you to sit down, and you waste no time to follow directions. You don’t get enough time to get comfortable before he sits next to you and turns you to face him, pushing you back by your shoulders so you’re leaning against the arm of the couch. 

“Have I mentioned that you’re really fucking hot? Because you are.” He hastily takes your shoes off and moves your legs so he’s in between them, and the sight makes you even more wet. Your dress gets pushed up to your waist and he hovers his thumb over your clit, eyes traveling up your body to watch your chest heave in anticipation. “Gotta stay quiet for me, okay? We don’t want any staff coming in and seeing how much of a mess you are for me.” His thumb presses down and moves in slow circles on your clit, enough to make you squirm but not enough to ease the ache he caused. You nod your head quickly when his eyes meet yours and he starts moving his thumb faster, drawing little whines from you.

“N-Need more, Jamie. I’ll be quiet, please.” The words nearly get caught in your throat when you feel him slowly push a finger into you, chills exploding through your body when you feel his rings press into you. He moves up your body until his lips land on yours, and he inserts another finger, pumping both in and out of you in a rhythm that makes you moan into his mouth. Your back arches when his fingers curl inside of you, perfectly grazing that special spot that only he can feel. “Do that again, fuck, please do that again.” A third finger squeezes inside you and he curls them again while his thumb moves in faster circles than before. 

“Gonna make a mess all over my fingers? Do what you do best, baby. Squeeze my fingers.” They curl again as he moves his lips to your collarbone, kissing and leaving a trail of barely noticeable marks. One final sharp thrust and curl inside of you, and you do exactly that. Your hand grabs his wrist to keep it in place while your other hand grabs the back of his neck, pulling him up to kiss you and to drown the noises coming from you. He can tell how badly you needed that from the way your body kept responding to him, you squirming under him while you trapped his fingers inside of you. Once he could tell you had given him everything you had, he gently pulled out his fingers and brought them in front of your lips. A final deep kiss is pressed to your lips before he pulls away and glances to his hand. “Clean up the mess you made, princess.”

“Happily.” You’re out of breath, but don’t hesitate to open your mouth and wrap your lips around his three fingers, taking them all the way to the back of your throat. His jaw drops at the sight and his cock twitches in his slacks. You run your tongue over each of his fingers, from tip to knuckle, making sure there’s not a trace of the mess you just made. Once he’s satisfied with your mouth, he drags his hand away and you try not to groan from the loss of contact. Your eyes glance down to his crotch and see the tent that’s formed under the material, one of your hands dropping down to palm him teasingly. 

“Unless you’re gonna show me how much of a cockslut you are for me, take your hand off, darling.” You swiftly move off the couch, kneeling in front of him while working on unbuckling his slacks. With hands shaking from how fast everything was going, you finally get his slacks and boxers low enough to let his cock free, a sigh of relief leaving Jamie’s lips. No time is wasted as you immediately trace the vein on the side with your tongue before taking him in your mouth, lowering your head until you feel his tip hit the back of your throat. He lets out a shaky moan when you hum around him and he cards his hands through your hair, tugging slightly at your roots to make you groan. A sudden thrust from him makes tears nearly spill from your eyes, your hand taking over for your mouth as you pull away to breath.

“No matter how many times you’re in my mouth, or in my pussy, it still amazes me how good you feel.” You wipe the drool from your mouth as you stroke him quickly with your free hand, the whimpers he lets out making you rub your thighs together. His eyes squeeze shut as his hips buck into your hand and you can tell he’s getting close. “Gonna cum for me, baby boy? Explode all over my hand? You know how much I love that.” Your hand moves faster as you press gentle kisses to his tip, licking teasingly against his slit. The groan that leaves him goes straight to your clit and you bring your free hand down to touch yourself, trying to get some relief. 

The throaty moan he let out as he came all over your hand proved that he didn’t give a shit if someone walked in on you two. Him with his eyes squeezed and head thrown back was an image you never wanted out of your mind, you really thought he belonged in a museum, every part of him was perfect. You kept pumping him as his cum dripped down your hand and wrist, landing in small drops on the carpet. His heavy breathing was still going even as he opened his eyes to see you touching yourself. Your mind was too focused on getting him off to notice that he was staring, until his hand roughly grabbed your wrist to pull your hand away. “You think just because I can't see you means you can get yourself off?” He glances at the clock and then back to you, a smirk on his face. “15 minutes left, bet I can leave your legs shaking in half that.” You’re pulled up to your feet and nearly trip from how fast he moves you, bending you over the arm of the couch.

“You’re really testing our luck, Jamie. I don’t want anyone walking in to see this.” One of your hands is held behind your back, Jamie’s way of making sure you don't touch yourself again. You stand back upright with your back to his chest and use your cum soaked hand on yourself, making sure you’re wet enough for him. His jaw audibly drops from behind you at the sight before pinning the other hand as well, pushing you back down and keeping a hand between your shoulder blades. His lips leave wet kisses across your upper back and he nudges your feet apart so he can go as deep in you as he could.

“If you wanted me to cum in you, darling, you should’ve just asked.” He whispers in your ear before easing himself into you. His speed increased quickly, filling the quiet room with the sound of skin against skin. “Such a d-dirty girl, letting me fuck you like this when I have to go on soon. Gonna make me change my clothes from how much you’re dripping for me.” You bite your lip to hold back a moan, but fail miserably when the tip of his cock brushes perfectly against the spot that makes you fall apart. Fast thrusts are replaced with slow, deep thrusts, making you feel every inch of him as he repeatedly hits that spot inside. The feeling of his fingers on your clit suddenly makes you jump, and you know he loves it.

“G-gonna cum if you keep doing that.” The sentence is barely audible, but the way you’re squeezing the hell out of his cock, he knows what you’re trying to say. More kisses are scattered on your back and the base of your neck, his teeth gently sinking into the skin, enough to make more goosebumps appear. His fingers move faster on your clit as his thrusts increase speed the smallest bit. One final deep thrust, and you fall apart. Your moans aren’t audible, but he can see your legs shaking and it makes him lose his mind. You feel his hips still and his cock twitch as he cums deep in you. 

“You always feel so good wrapped around me, like you were made for this, for my cock.” His words are strained but they still make you whine. He thrusts a few more times, gentle and slow, making sure that you both finish fully before he pulls out. Releasing your hands from behind you, a barely noticeable bruise appears on your skin. “So glad I brought another suit, you got this one all wet.” The teasing words left him with ease as you turned around to see the lower half of his suit jacket and upper half of his slacks are ruined with your cum, and it makes your face turn bright red. A snicker leaves him as he looks at your face while he pulls his surprisingly clean boxers back up. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?’ Lips pressing soft kisses to your wrists as one of his hands cups your cheek.

“Not at all, but you only have 5 minutes to change before your big debut.” You say, a smile across your face. He presses a soft kiss to your lips before going over to the wardrobe next to the mirror and taking out a new suit and slack set. This one was a slightly sparkly black velvet with a black undershirt, and form fitting black slacks. A pair of black Louboutin dress shoes and a gold chain, was the cherry on top, and you couldn’t bring yourself to look away. It takes less than 3 minutes for him to change, you taking a few seconds to put on the pair of panties you brought with you. The black shoes catch your eyes as he walks back over to you, a smile on his face as he sees how you’re looking at him.

“We can’t have you ruining this suit as well, but god, that was hot princess.” His hands rest on your lower back as he pulls you in for another kiss. “Maybe after we get back to the hotel you can ruin this one, hm?” He teasingly kisses the spot right below your ear as you both hear a knock at the door. 

‘A minute until you’re on, Jamie!’ 

#jamie campbell bower smut #jamie bower smut #jamie bower x reader #jamie campbell bower imagine #jamie campbell bower x fem!reader #stranger things smut #001 smut #peter ballard smut

[loserdiaz]

wip wednesday! 📜🎥

thanks for the tags, loves! @panbuckley @the-likesofus @thewolvesof1998 @messyhairdiaz @shortsighted-owl @transbuck @transboybuckley @spotsandsocks @thosetwofirefighters @hippolotamus @honestlydarkprincess @prince-buck-diaz 💗

ofc this is for my author buck! actor eddie! au, bc it's the only thing on my mind. i think im close to finishing it and i might post very soon!!!

until then, have another moodboard and a snippet!

"And? What do you think of it so far? Is it mediocre at best or what?" Buck tries to come off as teasing and joking but Eddie can see the insecurity and the fear of rejection simmering underneath. 

Eddie stops and with him, Buck does as well. They're facing each other and Eddie feels a little overwhelmed by how much he feels for this man. "Buck— It's one of the best things I've ever read. You've outdone yourself with this one." 

A big, huge toothy smile spreads over Buck's face, lightning him from inside. "You're serious? You're not just saying that?" 

"I'm not just saying that." Eddie shakes his head and reaches out, one of his hands coming to rest on Buck's shoulder, his thumb caressing his pulse point and feeling Buck's heartbeat underneath his fingertip. "I feel honored that you're letting me read it so early on and I just— I really love the book. Like, I'm exhausted because I've barely slept but I don't regret staying up reading it and I wouldn't go back and make a different decision. It is that good. It's better than I can ever express." Eddie swallows hard. "It's a privilege that I will never take for granted that I get to bring Gabriel's character to life. I mean it." 

"Eddie," Buck is smiling so big and so bright and he's looking at Eddie like he's the creator of the universe, like he hung the sun, the moon and the stars in the sky. "Thank you. Thank you." He says and pulls Eddie into a tight hug, his arms wrapping around his waist and his head briefly burying itself against Eddie's neck. 

It lasts too little, it's not even nearly enough. Eddie has barely hugged Buck back when the man is already pulling away. 

The small silver lining is that his hands are still holding him close, his fingers resting against his waist in a way that makes Eddie lit from within, makes him feel a slow fire start to burn through his veins. 

"Thank you," Buck whispers and Eddie realizes how close they really are. His treacherous eyes flickering down and falling to Buck's eyes for the briefest of seconds and then gazing back up. 

"You don't have to thank me." He tries to smile but he feels off kilter, shaky, teetering on the edge of a preciple. He feels like he's about to break and Buck's hands are the only thing keeping him glued together. "I'm just telling the truth." 

They stay there, so close and almost locked in this little bubble, until Chimney yells at them. 

"Hey, lovebirds! This is a work environment, I'm calling HR!" Chimney is speaking so loud that they get the attention of most of the crew. 

Buck looks like he wants to kill his brother-in-law, as he steps away from Eddie, his hands falling to his sides and leaving him feeling cold when they used to rest. 

"Eddie, you need to go to make-up and get ready for shooting! C'mon!" 

"Chimney we got it, stop screaming!" Buck screams even louder. 

idk who to tag bc im posting this later than usual, so anyone else who wants to share something, consider this your tag!!!

#evan buckley #eddie diaz #buck x eddie #buddie fic #buddie wip #911 fic #911 wip #my wips #911 fox #911 on fox #911 abc #911 on abc #my writing #author buck actor eddie au #fic: we are a fresh page on the desk (filling in the blanks as we go)

[malarkgirlypop]

MEDIC! Part 14 (Donald Malarkey x Fem!OC)

I am so sorry.

This is based on the HBO show and the actors who portray the characters, no hate to anyone involved.

“Jesus Christ.” I muttered as we finally arrived back at our old site. The jovial banter had quickly died after we returned. I looked around, the tall trees that once loomed over the foxholes, now stood splintered in half, branches and limbs of the pine trees laid scattered all over the ground. Now I understand the saying, ‘looks like a bombs gone off’, the place was a whole mess. 

“Well at least it will make it easier to build up the covers on the foxholes.” Skip mused, kicking the debris as we walked. I hummed in agreement. 

We were back looking out across the field at Foy. The thought of the enemy only being so far away sent shivers up my spine. You could see them moving around like little ants, scurrying from one house to the other. They were getting ready. Did they know we had moved back in? I had hoped not. Maybe they could leave us in peace for a while, and make it easy. But who was I kidding, this was not going to be easy in the slightest, taking hold of Foy was going to be a mission. An even harder mission at that with stupid Dike leading us. God if anything happens please let Dike be injured. It was cruel of me to think that, but I needed my boys alive. 

I drag tree limbs back to the foxhole we had claimed, throwing them down onto the front of the hole. I roll my aching shoulders, wiping the sweat from my brow. Don comes up from behind me throwing more branches down onto the pile. 

“What, are you tired?” He teases, as I stretch my arms. I crack my knuckles on each hand in response. “Oh, ew!” He cringes at the noise. 

“Oh you’re gonna love this then. Listen.” Even though he hates the sound he pauses and listens. I twist my back, keeping my feet in place, the joints popping up my spine. 

“Oh, Em what is wrong with you?” Don crinkles up his nose in disgust at the noise. I laugh. 

“I’m creaky!” I shrug, still smiling at him. 

“Creepy more like.” Don pokes me in the stomach, I fend him off, pretending to be offended. 

“Alright lover birds get a room.” Skip says as he approaches, dragging more sticks for us to put on the cover.  

“We do! We just have to share it with two wombles!” Don and I turn our assault onto Skip, poking him in the sides. He yelps trying to get away, Don and I cackle mischievously. Alex comes up seeing the chaos and decides to join in, attacking Skip as well. Skip falls to the floor, red in the face and out of breath. We finally let him go, stepping back to enjoy our handiwork. 

“Ok, note to self, don’t pick on Em and Don when they are together.” We chuckle as Don pulls him back to his feet. We get back to our task of getting more branches to build up the foxholes.       

I walk slowly back to the hole, trying my best not to fall over, I can’t see due to the high stack of sticks that Alex had placed in my arms. When a faint boom sounds from behind me, then another and another. My mind is slow to process the noise as I walk. It’s not until Lip screams that my brain finally clicks. I drop my sticks, frantically looking for the closest foxhole to shelter in, before the inevitable happens. Before I can find a foxhole the first shell hits. My adrenaline is already coursing through my veins, I can hear my heartbeat in my ears, along with the yells of the men calling to take cover. The shell rocks the earth beneath my feet, I stumble moving forward. My eyes dart around looking for somewhere to hide. 

“EM!” I hear over the explosions, I look around. Don’s head pokes out of a hole, his face urging me to get a move on. I sprint towards it, diving in. We curl into tight balls, protecting our heads and necks as shells rain down around us. Dirt and debris spray over us with each hit. Even with all the noise my ears still listen for anyone calling for a medic. The heat from the shells were intense, the blow of hot air on our skin wasn’t a welcome feeling even in the cold. The shelling stopped just as abruptly as it had started. We unfurled ourselves from tight holds, peeking our heads over the sides of the hole to assess the scene in front of us. I didn’t even notice until it had stopped that Bill was in the same hole as Malarkey and I. From the deafening booms to the eerie silence afterwards it put me on edge. I was waiting for a call to go and help. I strained my ears listening, but they still rang from the events prior. 

“Maybe we should see if anybody’s hit.” Don said. 

“Yeah, Malark, that’s what they want.” Bill replied back, affirming it wasn’t a good idea to leave the holes we sheltered in just yet. “The Krauts are trying to draw us out in the open.” 

We waited and listened. But it was still. We couldn’t see much in front of us either, the smoke from the shells still hadn’t cleared, giving us poor visibility.

“I need help!” The shout was distant, but the three of us in the hole turned our heads in the direction the voice came from. 

“You hear that?” Don asked. I nodded, not taking my eyes off the place where I heard the voice. The cries growing louder. 

“Is that Joe?” Bill asked, we listened again to the voice. 

“Yeah, I think that’s Joe.” Don confirmed. I moved to get out, but Bill and Malarkey quickly stopped me.     

“Bill, he needs help!” I looked at the man, he had a firmer grip on me than Don. 

“Stay!” He ordered, getting out of the hole himself. 

“But Bill!” I protested, he turned around shaking his head. I huffed. My stomach churned, I chewed on the inside of my lip, trying to see where Bill went.        

My heart lurched into my throat when I heard the sound of more shells being fired. 

“Bill’s still out there.” I yelled at Malarkey, who pulled me down further into the foxhole. I hadn’t realised it but I had stood up when I heard the noise, straining my eyes to see if I could spot the pair. 

“Get down!” Don and I lay on the floor of the hole. I flinched with each boom. Tears welled in my eyes. Please be safe. I chanted in my head.

“MEDIC!” I was quick to my feet, scrambling out of the hole. But Don was faster, grabbing me by my waist and throwing me back into the hole. 

“They need help!” We yelled at the same time. “Are you crazy Em!”  

Shells still blasted around us. I was begging them to stop, so I could go to the men who needed help. I needed to find Bill and Joe and make sure they were ok. It ceased finally. 

“MEDIC!” I looked at Don, ensuring he wasn’t going to drag me back in the hole again this time. He nodded, letting me know he was ok with me leaving. I was up on my feet in seconds, sprinting through the forest, leaping over fallen trees. 

I got to the scene first. I was horrified. Both Bill and Joe lay on the ground surrounded in blood. But they were still breathing. I took in each man, assessing their injuries. Joe’s leg was gone from the knee down, while Bill’s leg barely clung on by muscles and tendons. 

“GENE!” I screamed for the other medic, I needed all the help I could get. Gene was quick to arrive, crouching down by my side as I tourniqueted Joe’s leg. I have given him a syrette of morphine but he still grimaced in pain while I was helping him. I let Gene take over from me, moving to help Bill. I also gave him morphine for the pain. He put on a brave face. I cut the blood flow off from his wounded leg, I don’t think we will be able to save it in its condition. I would rather him lose the leg than bleed out on me. 

“Doc what can I do?” I heard Don say from behind me, as he helped Gene. Joe was groaning in pain. I turned my attention back onto Bill. 

“How’s the pain?” I asked, looking over his body for any other injuries. 

“Fine Em.” He gritted through his teeth, always so stubborn Bill, he didn’t want to admit he was in pain.  

“Bill, you’re going first ok.” I said as the men arrived with the stretcher to take him back to the aid station. 

“Whatever you say, Darling.” Bill gave me a tight lipped smile. 

The men moved him onto the stretcher, Bill crying out in agony as they did so. I winced at the noise. 

“Don’t look so worried Emmy.” Bill reached out brushing his hand over my face, smoothing out the creases of concern between my brows. I took his hand in mine, giving it a squeeze, letting him go as the men carried him away. 

“Hey, Joe, I told you I’d beat you back to the states.” Bill says as he is carted away. I help Gene with Joe’s leg as we wait for the other medics to come and retrieve him. I pack the stump of his leg with dressings before covering it. Don sits with him holding his hand, as we work.  

I hear the conversation between Luz and Lip. Lipton asks about Buck. He didn’t look in good shape when I had arrived, he had seen the whole thing. He looked distraught. As soon as he saw me and knew that the men were being treated he left. He didn’t utter a word to me, or offer to help. It was like he was sleepwalking as he trudged away. I hadn’t seen him since. So to hear Luz tell Lip that he was fine, I didn’t believe him. My mind went back to the conversation that Babe and Bill had prior about the Lieutenant, Babe was right he was wound up like a spring waiting to explode. I’m sure what he had witnessed sent him over the edge. Buck was indeed not fine. I glanced over my shoulder. I could make him out, sitting on a fallen tree, head in his hands. He looked broken.  

The other men arrive soon after with another stretcher to take Joe away. They took Buck with them as well. We had said he needed to go back to the aid station due to a bad case of trench foot. But we all knew the man had reached his breaking point, war was no good for him anymore. It would kill him to stay, we knew that. No one said anything, but we knew. Don often went to the aid station to visit him, when he would come back he looked defeated. He told me that Buck wasn’t the same, he didn’t want his letters read to him, he didn’t say anything, just lay in his bed looking up at the roof. Don tried his best to help and care for his friend, but he was too far gone. The best thing for Buck Comptant was to go home and be with his family. Away from the horrors of war. But it was a hard thing to escape once it was etched into your mind. I just wished for the best for the kind man. I hoped that going home he would be able to recover again to the best of his ability.       

We huddle round in a circle as George tells his stories. One of the best parts of the night, listening to the outlandish stories from Luz. 

“You fellas know I got no reason to  bullshit you, right?” Luz says, as we chuckle. 

“Yeah, right.” Skip says sarcastically, as we all chuckle. 

“Look, I’m not gonna bullshit you. This is what I saw. It was so unbelievable, you might not believe me. So you-know-who comes running up to Lipton. He’s got no helmet, no gear, no nothing.” Luz tells us. “Ah, 1st Sergeant Lipton, you organise things here, and I’m gonna go for…help.” Luz mimics Dike’s voice. We all laugh. I’m shocked but not surprised. Of course he would fucking dip when we were getting hit. God help us for when we have to go into Foy. “I need to go polish my oak leaf clusters.” I was never not impressed with George’s talent to mimic people, he’s so good at it. I hear someone clearing their throat, we all straighten as we look behind George to find Lip. Like being caught by a teacher doing something naughty. We all know that Lip doesn’t like us to bad mouth Dike, he says it brings down morale and it’s not helpful. It’s true but you gotta rant sometimes especially about Dike. I grin at the man as he gets called away by Lip. 

“Alright fellas, Em.” Luz looks sheepish as he turns to go talk to Lip. 

“Goodnight, goodnight all.” Don says as he makes his way back to the foxhole to get some shut eye.

"Night fellas. Night Em." Skip says to me as Alex and Skip leave to their own hole.

"Night you two, see you in the morning." I grin at the pair as they wave goodbye.

I stayed back, wanting to talk to Lip after he had spoken to Luz.

“I’ll meet you back at the hole.” I tell Don, he nods leaving me by myself. I watch Luz and Lip walk away from each other. I say goodnight to George as he passes me. I follow after Lip, I walk about two steps before I am knocked off my feet. I fall back onto the snow, dazed by the blast. The trees around me explode with a blinding light. I get to my feet. Only to fall again. I crawl forward as the shells explode around me, Skip and Penkala are just ahead yelling at me to move faster to get to them. I shuffle forward, every time I stand another shell hits the ground near me knocking me off balance. Everything moves in slow motion, I look to the boys who scream for me, ushering me forward with their arms. I am almost there, almost safe in their foxhole. A blinding light hits their hole, the boys basically disintegrate in front of my eyes. A gasp leaves my lips, before my brain can process what I just witnessed. The hole, now a crater, is empty and the men residing in it have disappeared. A strangled scream leaves my lips. I sob. I cry out in agony. Tears blurring my vision. I can’t stop screaming. My blood curdling screams fill the air along with the deafening blows. I lie in the snow, shells still hitting the floor I lay on, as I howl, I can barely breath. I have to get up. I force myself to stand, tears streaming down my face. I run, I don’t even know where I am going. I get up, I fall again. I crash to the ground in front of a foxhole watching the soldier stand. It's Lipton, he grabs me by my clothes hauling me into the hole with him. I can’t stop sobbing. I bawl as Lipton holds me to him. 

“Muck and Penkala!” I cry, “They’re gone!” My brain can’t even function or process what I have seen.  

A shell hits close by the blast hitting us and sending shrapnel flying in our direction as we grunt bracing the impact. Lipton groans out in pain. We cover our heads as we sit in the hole, when the shells sound less we lift our heads. A bomb lands beside us, I gasp, waiting to be blown to pieces, but it never comes. The shell lying beside us doesn’t go off. I feel like I am going to throw up. I pull out the cigarette that Malarkey gave me earlier when I had beaten him in cards, lighting it. I inhale the foul tasting smoke letting it burn my throat and lungs, Lipton takes the smoke off me inhaling deeply as well, “I thought you didn’t smoke?” I say to Lip. 

“I don’t, but I could say the same for you.” He looks over at my tear streaked face, I take a shaky breath as Lip slowly puffs on the cigarette.

#Im bawling #I can't #this hurts #so much #I just like to hurt my feelings #Don't whatever you do listen to sad music while you read this #band of brothers #band of brothers fanfic #band of brothers imagine #donald malarkey #hbo war #bill guarnere #joe toye #alex penkala #Skip muck