#the pink evidence and tie are for his boyfriend

[kavaleyre]

I’d like to think that Phoenix unconsciously gets a smug little smile right before he ruins Miles’s day in court with another objection.

#my art #ace attorney #phoenix wright #HIS HAIR WAS SO HARD #ITS SO POKEY #but I love him so much #the pink evidence and tie are for his boyfriend #sorry I don’t make the rules I just follow orders #nrmts

[yandere-daydreams]

file #3: the foot fic.

part of the FREAK SHIT MARCH evidence packet.

pairing: yandere!nanami kento x reader (jjk)

length: 2.1k.

warning: non/con, fem!reader, oral sex (f. receiving), foot jobs, unhealthy relationships, unhealthy coping mechanisms, mentions of kidnapping, unbalanced power dynamics, and cannot mention it enough: feet.

You weren’t entirely sure how you’d ended up here.

Which was to say, you weren’t entirely sure how you’d ended up in this position, not this physical location – the small kitchen of Nanami’s up-until-recently neglected apartment, back pressed against the rounded edge of a pristine marble countertop and hands clasped so tightly in front of you that your knuckles were beginning to turn white. That, you could explain in fifteen words or less: Psychotic Ex-Boyfriend Kidnaps Overly Trusting Partner To Roleplay Repressed Domestic Fantasies, with further elaboration possible if you ever got the chance to talk to anyone who wasn’t currently holding you hostage. That, as much as you hated it, was normal. You knew why you were here.

It was much less normal to have Nanami on one knee in front of you, head bowed and one of your feet sitting in the palm of his hand. You hadn’t decided whether it was good abnormal or bad abnormal, yet, but still – not normal.

It must’ve been a rough day. He always looked tired when he got home, but tonight, he seemed exhausted – blond hair in a state of styled disarray, tie gone and shirt already partially unbuttoned, the circles under his eyes just a shade darker than they had been that morning. There was a cut on his cheek, too, and a tear along the wrist of his sleeve. Usually, he would’ve tried to get you to fuss over the damage, to trade privileges like a few minutes of T.V. and the latest news about your friends and family and not being handcuffed to his bed whenever he couldn’t watch you himself for sex and domestic labor and the faux-reciprocation of his obsession, but you hadn’t been able to say anything, let alone do anything before he’d fallen into his current position at your feet, his cheek resting gingerly against the inside of your thigh and his pale face slightly pink. He hadn’t said anything, either. You were starting to think he never would.

Unable to find an explanation written on the back of his head, you turned your attention to yourself. You’d been thinking about what you were going to make for dinner when he got home, because cooking meant he had to trust you with something more dangerous than a plastic spoon and you couldn’t go back to not being able to hold your own toothbrush, even if that meant having to trip over yourself to play housewife with your captor. You were dressed for housework, but that didn’t mean much. Nanami picked out all of your clothes, and he liked you in soft, pastel silk gowns and cutesy, garish vintage dresses. Your current dress was far from overly provocative – the neckline above your collarbones, the skirt falling to your knees. He’d seen you in it before, too, and never had this reaction.

The only new factor was your socks, but that would’ve been ridiculous. It was a new pair – a far cry from the thigh-highs and nylon stockings he usually bought for you. The material was thick and white and cottony, only ankle-high with ribbed hems and a lace trip. He was cupping the arch of your foot, his hand slotted in the tender space between the heel and the upper sole, and the plush fabric rubbed uncomfortably against your skin as he shifted his hold ever so slightly downward. More out of reflex than anything, you jerked back, your toes curling downward as you tried to weakly pull yourself out of his hold, and as if pulled out a trance, Nanami snapped up at you, tired eyes weary and lips slightly parted. Your eyes met his, and for a second, it was all you could do to stay still, to stay quiet, to not yell or scream or thrash until finally, Nanami’s weary expression broke into a slight grin, an airy laugh trickling past his lips as his stare fell back to your foot. “They’re… cute,” he started, slowly, nuzzling his cheek gingerly against your thigh. “I knew they would be, but—” A pause, a kiss to the tender patch just above your knee. “—you always manage to surprise me.”

You managed to smile shakily. “Sorry, Kento, I didn’t mean to distract you. Why don’t you sit somewhere a little more comfortable? I can start on—”

“In a minute.” Another hand was brought up and wrapped around your ankle, just above the lace trim of your sock. His forehead settled against your thigh as he lifted your foot gently and with an almost painful sort of delicacy, pressed the sole of your foot into the bulging tent in his pants that you’d been trying so hard to ignore. You felt his lazy grin press into your skin, and something cracked open in your chest.

This time, you couldn’t stifle your immediate reaction; lurching back, your hands finding the edge of the counter as you tried to pull away from him. It took nothing for him to keep you in place, though, and even worse – the ball of your heel pressed into his shaft as you tried to get away, rolling against his cock with a little too much force and drawing a low grunt from the base of Nanami’s throat. Instantly, you regretted moving at all. “I—I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

 “Again.”

You fell silent. His head lulled forward, pressing into your thigh, and somehow, you managed to spit something out. “…I’m sorry, Kento?”

“Again, angel, please,” he muttered, his eyes falling shut. You didn’t move, but he didn’t need you to – his hips jutting forward, grinding stiltedly against the sole of your foot. Any vague illusion of wholesomeness was forgotten entirely as he fell onto his knees, unabashedly rutting against your leg with all the shame and all the pride of a stray animal, desperate for its twisted idea of affection. You made a half-hearted attempt to distract yourself, to focus on the white tiles of his kitchen (not quite dirty, but not as clean as they could be, either – you’d have to do the floors tomorrow), then the far wall (there was a layer of dust along the edge of the light switch fame – you could take care of that later on tonight), but it would’ve been impossible not to think about the wet, hot breath fanning over your thigh, the stiff cock throbbing against your foot. You thought would’ve gotten used to his—uh, his unwanted attention by now, gone numb to the feeling of his mouth on your neck and his fingers on your clit, but this was a type of fresh humiliation you weren’t familiar with, the kind of unthinkable debasement that made your face heat-up and your thought spiral down, down, down. When your paralysis persisted, Nanami grit his teeth, rocked your foot against the length of his cock without ever letting his hips stop moving – like he was trying to fuck a hole through your heel. It was a rough, jagged motion; almost clumsy, despite the fact that you’d never seen him so much as trip. It might’ve left you off-balance, if you hadn’t been holding onto the counter so tightly. You might’ve fallen, if you thought that you would be enough to make him stop.

You shut your eyes, forcing yourself to suck in a shuddering breath, but that was a mistake – showing any kind of weakness was a mistake. You felt one of his groping hands on your upper thigh, then your ass, finally finding the thin, flimsy material of your panties and pulling. There was no elegant way to strip you down, so he didn’t try to be elegant. There was a harsh tearing sound, the feeling of blunt nails scraping against unprotected skin, and then, scraps of ruined material were scattered on the floor at your feet, the skirt of your dress pushed up to your waist as he forced his face between your legs, mouth already open and tongue already lapping over your cunt.

It was a bad position; the distance too far, the angle too sharp, everything about strained and awkward and unnecessary, but Nanami didn’t seem to notice, didn’t seem to care. His tongue ran over the length of your slit before he latched onto your clit and sucked. Instantly, it was too much – a strangled cry tearing past your lips as you buckled into yourself, your knees nearly giving out as another reverberating moan sent pangs of something sharp and electric stabbing into your core. Against your better judgement, your hands shot from the counter to his hair, your fingers soon knotted in a mess of blonde in a futile attempt to pry him away from you. He only melted into your hostile touch, one of his hands remaining on your ankle while the other found your hip, keeping you still and pliable as his attention dipped lower, the flat of his tongue pushing broad patterns into your entrance as the bridge of his nose ground lazily against your clit. “Love you,” he mumbled, his voice little more than a throaty, ragged murmur – almost too deep to be audible and constantly interrupted by the sound of your slick on his lips, on his tongue. You wished he wouldn’t talk. You wished he wouldn’t pretend to love you. You wished he wouldn’t force you to do the same. “You’re so—so pretty, and so perfect, and—”

A guttural moan cut him off, and his attention shifted, his head lulling back just far enough to stare up at you with eyes so soft and so tender, you could almost forget he was humping your leg like a bitch in heat. You were suddenly aware of your own distraught expression – all grit teeth and misty eyes, misery and pleasure flooding through your veins in tandem. You wanted to ask him not to look at you. You needed to ask him to stop, but—

You felt a frigid ache in your left wrist – the wrist he’d kept shackled to the bedpost for the first three weeks of your kidnapping. You tried to open your mouth, but your tongue was deathly dry, your throat stuffed with cotton, the feeling not entirely unsimilar to the residue left behind by the velvet gags he used to shove in your mouth when you didn’t want to lay there and let him break you. You couldn’t say anything, couldn’t do anything as he let out a final, primal groan – as you felt something thick and hot soak through the fabric of his dress pants and into your ridiculous, childish socks. He whined into your cunt, fingers burrowing into your waist as he dragged you that much closer to his mouth. His tongue fucked shallowly into your cunt, and a whine caught in your throat as your vision burnt white, as you came unwillingly on his tongue.

You couldn’t do it, anymore. With his hand still on your hip, his cum still searing into the sole of your foot, you collapsed. Nanami caught you before you hit the ground, and you hated him for it. You wished he’d let you crumble to the tile floor, wished he’d just watch and laugh as you curled into a ball and stayed there for the rest of the night, the rest of the week. You wished he’d—

Oh, god, you’d made yourself cry. Nanami let out a breathy chuckle as you sniffled and tried not to wail, kissing your tear-stained cheeks with a gentleness you couldn’t seem to link to the man who’d just cum to a pair of socks. “It’s alright, angel. You can let it out.” Another kiss, this one to your forehead. “Too much?”

You nodded, burying your face in his shoulder. You felt his arms wrap around you, keeping your body pressed into his chest as he pushed himself to his feet. There were a few seconds of quiet, unthinking solace before he lowered you onto your shared bed – a pair of shackles still hanging, unlocked and waiting, from the headboard. Immediately, you scrambled for the nearest pillow, burying your face in the plush material and sobbing openly. Nanami’s comfort came in the form of a wry grin, a pair of hands on your hips, turning you onto your stomach and starting on the buttons of your dress.

As he settled between your legs, his calloused fingertips skirting over your bare skin, you couldn’t help but wonder if the shackles had really been so bad.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #jujutsu kaisen #yandere jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagines #yandere jjk #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk imagines #yandere nanami #yandere nanami kento #nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader

[remuslupinslittleslut]

Okay hear me out teach me dynamic with a reward. James and Sirius have been so good so reader convincing Remus to let them spit roast her or one in the ass one in the pussy yknow while he watches, making sure they fuck her just right and eventually ends up joining somehow.

Idk just an idea

love your work xoxo

I got a bit excited and now this ended up being almost 2k. LOVED this request though, I'm thinking I might have to make a new list just for the teach me stuff, like it's another kind of poly marauders. If I had the energy to post content warning I probably would on this one it is quite filthy from time to time, but it thought it was v fun :)

Masterlist.

You had made a deal; if your boyfriends played well out on the pitch today, you’d give them a reward. It was a bit of an excuse, really, because they always played well.

Holding the hand of Remus, you sat on the edge of your seat, cheering as James made another goal. As he did a victory lap on his broom, your cheeks heated up – he always made sure to send you a wink and a wide grin. The cocky bastard knew what was coming. Squeezing Remus’ hand, you leaned in to whisper in his ear; “They’re good, really good.”

Remus chuckled, squeezing your hand in return. “Yeah,” he murmured, against your ear, eyes never leaving his two other partners. “We’re gonna have to give them a treat.”

To no one’s surprise, Gryffindor beat Ravenclaw with over 100 points, leading to a roaring party up in Gryffindor tower. The party, however, was just background noise as you waited on Sirius’ bed.

You and Remus had agreed, he’d tie you up in gold and red ribbons, leave you in their dorm and go get the others, who would be gifted your body for them to unwrap.

The cold air made your nipples perk as you lay on the bed. It was a dangerous game, you knew, letting your two subs take control over your body, allowing them to play the role of the dominant person, if only for a night. Remus had cautioned you, but after becoming submissive with Remus alone, you thought it might be fun to let them as well – besides, Remus would be there the entire time, watching, making sure everything went as it should.

“Are we getting our gift?” You heard Sirius’ voice as they walked up the stairs, excitement evident.

“Is Y/N in here?” James followed, just as excited.

Stopping just outside the door, you heard Remus speak, his voice determined and rough. “You’re about to be rewarded, not just for your performance today, but also for your good behavior these past few days,” he said, and you knew the look on his face without having to see him. “You’re going to be allowed one evening of full control – but remember, if you disobey any of our underlying rules, you will still get punished. Can you tell me what they are?”

“Don’t hurt ourselves or anyone else, always listen to safewords, always check for consent, don’t be rude to daddy and no lasting injuries,” James listed, as the good boy he always was.

“Good Jamie,” Remus’ voice was softer now. “Go ahead then.”

As the door opened, you felt your heartbeat quicken.

“Wow,” Sirius gasped, the first person in through the door. “Pretty girl, all wrapped up for us?”

You turned your head to face him from where you lay on his bed, ribbons cutting into your skin, making sure you stayed in place. You nodded as your cheeks heated once more.

“Prongs, you’ve gotta see this,” Sirius cooed, dragging James along.

James’ eyes were wide and glossy from behind round glasses, his brown cheeks tinted pink as well.

“Go ahead, boys,” Remus said, plopping down on his own bed. “Unwrap your gift.”

Their eyes moved between your body and Remus’, not sure if they were actually allowed. But when Remus chuckled and nodded once more, they pounced, hopping onto the bed and pulling at the strings around your body.

“Hi darling, you’re so pretty f’me,” Sirius said, leaning down to kiss you. His lips tasted like firewhiskey and his long hair tickled your face.

James was busy making sure all pieces of ribbon left your body, before he allowed his hands to grab at your tits.

“Go on then, boys,” Remus said from his own bed. “Get on with it.” Looking over to him, you saw his hand was wrapped around his semi-hard cock, slowly jerking up and down.

Arching your back, you tried to push James’ hands harder into your chest, as you moaned into Sirius’ mouth.

“Is that what you want, princess?” Asked Sirius, hand holding your chin as he pulled away slightly. “You want us to fuck you? Make you cum on our cocks while daddy watches?”

They knew you sometimes let Remus be your daddy, even as you were mommy to Sirius and James – but they’d never used it against you like that. It was hot, very hot, and you felt yourself slip further into your submissive persona even more as you desperately nodded up at Sirius. “Please.”

“Jamie, look at that, little slut wants us to fuck her,” Sirius taunted.

James still looked a little uneasy with the switched positions, but you reached out a hand to hold his. “Jamie, please, wanna taste you,” you whined, trying to ease him into it. “Please, Jamie, let me suck your cock.”

Your words made James’ eyes widen, before he looked to Remus, again. “Can I?” He asked.

“Yes, James, you can do whatever you want to her, for tonight,” Remus assured, cock growing harder.

Nodding, James got up and started undressing. Sirius did the same.

Having gotten consent, James wasted no time straddling your chest and leaning down to kiss you quickly before placing his hard cock right in front of your face. Doing a half crunch, you pushed your head up and opened your mouth, tongue falling out, eyes meeting James’. “Fuck,” he groaned, hips coming forward enough to push his cock into your open and waiting mouth. Using your tongue, you licked around the head, spreading precum around. He always tasted so good.

Between your legs, you felt Sirius’ fingers pushing against your swollen clit before diving deeper, slipping into your wet cunt. You were prepared, had let Remus finger you open before, making sure you were ready for your boys. Still, Sirius’ expert fingers plunging in and out of your pussy felt fuckin’ amazing.

“Such a good girl,” James murmured, having pulled out of your mouth temporarily, allowing you to breathe.

“The best,” Sirius agreed, tongue reaching out to lap at your sensitive nub. “So pretty, so tasty.”

You moaned, arching your back. It felt so nice, receiving all that attention and praise, and if you looked to the side, you saw Remus smiling softly, hand squeezing the root of his cock, trying to stop himself from cuming.

“Such a little cock-whore, though,” Sirius said, pushing the limits even further. “D’you want me to fill your little hole? D’you need cock on both ends to be happy?”

James groaned, Sirius’ words had made you moan around James’ cock, now back in your mouth, and the vibrations sent pleasure all through James’ body. “I think she does, pads,” James said, hand brushing hair out of your face.

Sirius’ fingers left you, making you feel empty and alone, but it wasn’t long until his cock replaced them, filling your dripping cunt, making you speared on cock from both ends. This was heaven. James’ hips moving slowly, pushing his cock down your throat, letting your nose get tickled by the hair and the beginning of his shaft on every thrust. Sirius snapping his hips, allowing your g-spot to be perfectly grazed by his head.

“Fuck,” Sirius groaned. “She’s taking us so well. D’you see this moons? Your cockslut is so good for us.” His head was thrown back, hands pressing into your legs as he thrust his hips, moving his cock in and out of you. “Fuck, James, flip her over.”

Both cocks pulled out of you, making you whine from the loss of contact. It didn’t last long though, soon you were flipped to lay on your stomach, head almost falling off the edge of the bed, but James’ hand in your hair kept you up as he pushed his cock into your mouth again. Behind you, Sirius straddled your thighs, pushing just your arse up as he, too, once again penetrated you – making you full of cock, and happy again.

Straining your eyes to look up at James, you used your tongue to give extra attention to his head, while your hips started moving in little circles, walls clamping down harder on Sirius. As much as you enjoyed this, you wanted to be active in their orgasms.

James went first, hands pulling even harder at your hair as he threw his head back, hips stuttering as his cock shot white globs of cum down your throat. Moaning, you opened your mouth, playing with his cum using your tongue. Leaning down, James gave you an open mouthed kiss, allowing his own cum to be split between the two of you.

Sirius, who had witnessed James coming down your mouth was also getting close, hips pushing against yours, hard. When James had moved away from you, Sirius leaned down to pull your chest up, one hand in your hair, the other squeezing your tit.

“Such a good little cockslut, huh, took Jamie so well, gonna let me cum in you? Fill you up? Watch it run down your legs? Gonna let me do that, huh?”

Sirius’ filthy words only made you moan louder, walls squeezing him harder.

“Fuck,” he groaned. “I’m–” His hips slowed as he gave his final few thrusts, pushing his cum even further into your cunt. “Such a good girl,” he kissed the back of your neck before moving away.

Remus, who still hadn’t allowed himself to cum came over. “Everyone okay?” He asked, looking at all his littles. “You did so well,” he looked at you. “But you two,” he pointed to Sirius and James, “missed something. You didn’t make our girl cum.”

They both looked ashamed, and a little disappointed that they’d missed something during their night.

Remus leaned down and kissed your nose. “Can you ride my face, darling?”

That sounded amazing and you quickly got up and sat yourself down over his face. His tongue was good, he knew how to use it and when he had to add his fingers to make sure you felt as good as possible. Licking along your damp lips, Remus used two fingers to push into you, the pads of his fingers immediately pressing against your spongy walls.

Moving your hips, you dragged your cunt along Remus’ face. You wished you could’ve disappeared into a world of pleasure, but his leaking cock looked so lonely, you had to lean down and wrap your fingers around it. Remus pushed his hips, making his cock glide through your fingers as he moaned against your heat.

The other two men were sitting next to you, mouths agape and cocks growing hard again after their orgasms. Watching them as you took Remus into your mouth, you saw their members bob at the view.

Remus quickened his pace, tongue licking and lips sucking around your clit as his fingers moved faster in and out of you. He wanted to make sure you came before you did. Hips and head moving faster, you felt yourself get thrown over the edge, wetting Remus’ whole face as you squirted, causing a chain reaction of Remus coming into your mouth, where James had just done the same thing. “That’s how you treat a girl,” Remus said, wiping his face with his hands, sending his friends a wink.

#mywriting #amathelia writes #fanfic #marauders era #james potter #james potter x reader #James Potter Smut #Sirius Black #sirius black x reader #sirius black smut #remus lupin smut #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin #marauder era #marauders fanfiction #marauders x reader #Poly!marauders #poly!marauders x reader #Smut #Teach Us #Teach us dynamics

[junkissed]

not so silent night

day seven of junkissed’s svt season’s greetings event

member — music teacher!jihoon x english teacher!reader genre — fluff, some humor word count — 1.4k synopsis — your students have been trying to set you up with the other teachers all year. but what happens when the hot music teacher actually says yes? warnings — children being mischievous, maaybe suggestive at the end, if you choose to take it that way notes — lowercase intended. fun fact i wrote this on the greyhound bus coming home over thanksgiving break lol

edit [01/11] : i have added a second part to this fic called "not so holy night"! it is nsfw so minors dni. you can read it here!

one reblog = one scheming child

“why don’t you have a boyfriend?”

you look up from the essay you’re grading. “‘excuse me?”

the little girl sitting at the desk closest to yours is staring at you. “how come you don’t have a boyfriend?” she repeats.

you hold in a laugh. “it’s silent reading time, heather. go back to your book.”

“you could date one of the other teachers,” she continues. “you know, my music teacher mr. lee is single. do you think he’s hot?”

“i think you need to finish your book, or else you’ll be staying in at recess to clean the whiteboards.”

she shrugs and rolls her eyes, but opens her book again. “somethin’ to think about.”

the bell rings signaling recess, and the room erupts in a flurry of little voices and papers rustling as the students put their books away and head outside. you follow them out, standing by the entrance to your classroom as they file out the door.

a man stands across the hall, similarly watching his students leave. you know he’s the music teacher; the drums that you hear every morning during third period are evidence of that. but other than that, you don’t know much about him. except now, thanks to nosy junior high girls, you know he’s not married, at least.

“good morning, mr. lee,” you say when you catch his eye.

he smiles. “please, call me jihoon.”

“how are your students?”

“good, good,” he says, crossing his arms. “and yours?”

“jumpy as always,” you laugh politely.

“wouldn’t expect any less, this close to winter break,” he replies. despite the small talk being no different than it is any other morning, you find yourself looking more closely at him for the first time.

“speaking of,” you start, “ are you going to the staff party this weekend?”

he leans against the door of his classroom. “wasn’t planning on it.”

“oh.” you stand awkwardly for a minute before nodding politely and turning to go back in your room, thinking the conversation is over.

“do you… would you wanna go with me?” you hear from behind you.

you spin around. “what?”

he shrugs, clearly trying to act nonchalant. “if i show up by myself and my students get wind of it, i’ll never hear the end of it.”

you pause. “why?”

he sighs. “they keep trying to set me up with other teachers. there’s only so many math teachers in the school, and they’re all married. if i don’t do something, they might move on to the language teachers.”

“i know the feeling,” you say, laughing, but you wonder if he was trying to say anything with that comment: you’re a language teacher. but you're probably just reading too much into it. “what is with kids and trying to put people together?”

“ah, you too?” he smiles. “it’s probably the same students doing it to both of us.”

“the group of girls that always wear the matching hair bows?”

“mhm, the very ones.”

you grin. “maybe we should go out, give them something to gossip about.”

his cheeks flush pink, and he coughs, reaching up to adjust his tie. “i– um…”

you panic at his reaction. “sorry! just a– joke…” you trail off.

“do you… like coffee?” he asks suddenly. you raise your eyebrows, and he laughs, gesturing to the mug in your hand. “that’s a stupid question, sorry.”

“i do like coffee, yes,” you giggle. neither of you are exactly the smoothest people in the world, but talking with him somehow feels natural.

“second period is my prep,” he says, fidgeting with his hands.

“i know,” you laugh, and he gives you a confused look. “i mean, it’s the only time i don’t hear your class.”

“oh,” he chuckles. “sorry about that. i always tell them not to mess around, but, what can you do?”

“don’t worry about it,” you smile. “so, coffee?”

“is tomorrow good?”

“the sooner the better,” you joke.

“i’ll see you then,” he smiles.

you clear your throat. “well, i’ve got grading to do, i should probably… go…”

“oh! yeah, of course,” he says, uncrossing his arms and wiping his palms on his pants. “i should go too, before the kids get back.”

“it’s nice talking to you,” you add at the last second.

his face lights up, and you’re glad he took it as a compliment instead of meaningless small talk. “yeah, you too!”

you grin awkwardly and slip back into your room, shutting the door behind you.

damn, it hasn’t been that long since you’ve been on a date. you didn’t think your flirting was that rusty. but if you wanted to prove these kids wrong, you’d have to step up your game.

although it’s none of their business, you’re so excited about the date, you almost want to tell heather and the other girls that yes, a so-called “old woman” like yourself is still capable of getting a date.

you grin to yourself and shake your head, going back to the stack of papers on your desk, hoping to get the last of your grading done before recess is over and your next class comes in.

the next morning you wake up before your alarm, a feat that hasn’t happened in years. you stand in front of your closet for what’s probably close to an hour, trying to find the perfect outfit.

why are you so worried about this? it’s just coffee, you reason with yourself. no need to get all crazy over it.

still, it takes you at least another ten minutes before you finally pick out something to wear. giving yourself one last once-over in the bathroom mirror, you grab your keys and head out to your car half an hour earlier than you normally do. maybe sitting in your classroom before school will give you some time to figure out what the hell you’re about to do.

it’s not against the rules, per se, for one teacher to date another. but you can’t help but be nervous if something goes wrong. you can’t exactly avoid him when his classroom is directly across from yours.

to your amazement, the date goes great. yes, so maybe the “date” is just the two of you sitting in the starbucks down the street from the school, but at this hour of the day, it’s quiet. everyone’s either busy at work or dropping their kids off at school.

you learn a lot about mr. lee— jihoon, as he insists, that morning. like how he always wanted to be a music producer, and how he was in a band in college that was actually pretty successful.

too soon, you check your watch and realize it’s almost time for third period. you stand up, smoothing your coat down with your hands.

“are you still going to the staff party this weekend?” he says, just as you’re about to open the door.

you smile. “i was, yeah.”

he twists his coffee cup in his hands nervously. “do you maybe wanna… get drinks, or something before? we could carpool. i know this place downtown that has great cocktails. if you’d be, um, into that,” he finishes shyly.

you beam. “that sounds like a lot of fun. i’ll text you my address?”

he fumbles to grab his phone and hand it to you, nearly spilling his drink in the process.

“you should… call me, sometime,” you say as you text yourself from his phone to save the number.

“i will,” he says with a sheepish grin, and you know he means it.

“so you have a boyfriend now?”

you glance up. “and what makes you think that?” you say. okay, so maybe you do technically have… something, now.

“i saw pictures of you and mr. lee on the school’s facebook from the christmas party,” heather says nonchalantly.

before you can even think of a response, something like, “why are you searching for pictures of me,” or, “since when does the school have a facebook profile?”, she shrugs and goes back to her grammar assignment.

you hold in a laugh, watching her. she doesn’t say anything more, so you look back at the homework in front of you, waiting to finish being graded.

“if you two get married, can i be the flower girl?” you hear a minute later, interrupting the silence. “since it was me that got you together.”

“we’ll see,” you glare playfully, raising your eyebrows. with the success of the last few dates you’ve been on, you can’t say it isn’t entirely out of the question. but that’s not something you’re about to tell heather and her little gossip group. especially after what happened when you got back to jihoon’s house after the staff party; those details, you’ll have to keep to yourself.

taglist | @foxdaisy @tinkerbell460 @merrykyeomas @just-here-to-read-01 @ny0sang @pepperonidk @noraehey @squiishymeow @pearlygraysky @baekhyunstruly @tenn87 @raevyng @aceofvernons @odetoyeonjun @dkakapizzaboy @enhacolor @highkey-fangirling @baldi-2 @onlymingyus @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @enha-choo @matilde111

join my taglist here!

thank you for reading, i hope you enjoyed! if you liked this, reblog or leave an ask or a comment, it shows me you enjoyed this so i know to write more like this in the future!

#svthub #k-labels #seventeenweeklyarticle #🌃 : june.writes #❄ june's winter wonderland! ❄ #woozi fluff #svt fluff #jihoon fluff #seventeen fluff #svt scenarios #svt imagines #jihoon fanfic #woozi x you #svt woozi #woozi fanfic #woozi scenarios #woozi x reader #woozi x y/n #jihoon x reader #svt jihoon #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #m: woozi #g: seventeen #c: fluff

[b4mpyre-k1zz3s]

can u make one about maybe telling bam you’re pregnant??😭🙏

Y/N Tells Bam She’s Pregnant HCs!

Bam Margera X Fem!Reader

Warnings: None!

An: Thank you for the request!! I’ve noticed a trend recently with a lot of baby related requests XD Bam has a tendency to get carried away with whatever he gets into, so I don’t think raising a child would be any different!

Bam doesn’t know what to say

I mean, what man does when his girlfriend tell him she’s pregnant?

“Wow. Wow. I mean…wow.”

He stumbles over his words for like a solid minute in disbelief before asking if you’re really sure it’s his

When you tell him that yes, not only is it his but you also want to keep it, the only thing he can can come up with is,

“A-awesome…?”

The thing is, despite his usual antics, Bam can be a pretty sentimental guy, especially when it comes to you, so even though you thought it was sorted and done, he was still processing it

Until that evening you caught him playing some skateboarding video game in the living room after all his buddies went home

He doesn’t notice you standing behind the corner, so it’s totally genuine when he passes the game and sits back with this sorta bewildered smile on his face.

And he murmurs to nobody in particular, “I’m gonna be a dad.”

The following months were filled with Bam tending to your every need

Sure, you liked it when he made sure the castle was stocked with your favorite foods or massaged your feet, but it was a little excessive

You waited until week three of breakfast in bed to say anything. Digging your fork into the fluffy French toast your boyfriend told you he made but you could obviously tell it was April’s cooking, you laughed, “You know, you could really ease up on it. I’m pregnant, not dying!”

Still, he wasn’t discouraged

One day, Bam surprised you with a custom baby inside he got made- black with a hot pink heartagram on it

He held it up proudly, “He’s gonna look so awesome in this!”

When you asked how he knew it would be a boy, he said it was just father’s intuition

“Plus, if it’s a girl, it’s got pink on it!” Well he had a point.

Don’t even get me started on names

You know he would suggest Ville, and there’s no way in hell you would benaming your baby after some Finnish rock star your boyfriend was obsessed with

And when you go shopping for baby stuff Bam insists on trying everything out

Even if they don’t offer samples of baby food, he will be asking for them because,

“Our kid deserves the best, Y/N! If I wouldn’t eat it, he’s not gonna eat it either.”

Evidently, he didn’t like anything he tried expect those puffed rice snacks so he bought as many as he could fit in his arms (and he will 100% eat them all before the baby is actually born)

The soon to arrive baby was giving Bam a bit of a crisis of conscious

You assumed the whole wearing a tie with his usual blazer and t-shirt combination was some Avril Lagvine fashion thing

And you didn’t mind him spending fewer nights out at the bar with his buddies and the decrease in trips to the ER

But when he brings up selling the lambo for a ‘more reasonable car’, you put your hands on his shoulders and took a deep breath

“Bam, I love you, but there is no way in hell I’m letting you sell that car.”

That’s when your boyfriend admits to you that he has no idea what he’s doing

You could tell

#jackass #bam margera #jackass fanfiction #jackass fanfic #fluff #jackass x reader #bam margera x reader #Those baby snacks go hard I eat those things like no tomorow

[bloodyknucklesforme]

First Course | Guest Check

Nina Irons lost her entire family in a car crash over a year ago. She's twenty five and struggling to find her place among the grief and anxiety. She hates her job as a server at 141, one of London's up and coming restaurants. Her only motivation is keeping up appearances for the two people who've always care for her, John Price, a family friend and owner/head chef of 141, and Kyle Garrick, her childhood best friend and occasional boyfriend.

(the official beginning of a serialized restaurant AU 💙)

“You don’t have to do this if you’re not ready,” Price assured, rubbing the back of her neck. The house seemed larger sitting at the top of the hill. It looked like she remembered it. Brown brick with a black roof, Edwardian. She didn’t know why it wouldn’t, Price had been taking care of it.

“We’ll support you no matter what.” Kyle said, reaching from the back seat to rub her arm. 

“It’s been over a year. I have to do it at some point.” She sighed. A year since her family died. She should have gone back home sooner. She’d kept them waiting in that house. Ghosts or something worse. 

Price pulled up into the driveway. She was the first out of the car. The gardenia bush out front was starting to bloom. Her mum always loved having flowers around the house. It made sense with her name being Poppy. Price slipped the key into hand.

“We’ll follow your lead, love.”

It was dusty but not as bad as she would have thought. Price had done a good job of taking care of everything. He always had. He and her father were good friends at one point though her mum never seemed to like him. 

“It’s weird being back, isn’t it.” Kyle said, coming up behind her to rest his chin on her shoulder. Growing up they rarely played here, preferring his house or the woods. Her house was reserved for special events; Christmas Eve, New Year’s, Easter and celebratory dinners. Kyle’s dad was in the same regiment as Price and her father. Her father was their Captain and had them address him as such even when they both retired before him. 

The house was always very white. White walls, white table cloths, white carpet in the bedrooms. Her father was a self proclaimed traditionalist and didn’t let anyone paint. Despite photographic evidence that the house was colourful when he was young. He had to have control over everything.

“C’mon.” She tugged Kyle’s hand and pulled him upstairs. The stairs creaked the same. A shiver ran down her spine when she stepped onto the rug in the upstairs hallway. “Oh, fuck we didn’t take off our shoes.”

She plopped down to take them off but it didn’t matter. Her father wasn’t here to yell at her or her mother to sigh at her. Her laces hung loosely in her fingers.

“Do you want help?” Kyle asked, crouching in front of her. He was the one that taught her how to tie her shoes when they were little. He always afforded her more patience than anyone else except maybe Price. Where was he?

“No, I’m fine.” She stood up, shoes still on. 

She stopped by her brother’s room. All her bravery left when she touched the door knob. They didn’t get along well but he was her baby brother. Baby Sebastian. He was only sixteen when he died. He deserved better. All his football posters would still be up. His books for his A levels would still be on his desk. His bed unmade, clothes strewn over the floor. She left the door unopened.

Her room had been a time capsule longer than the rest of the house. When she left for Uni she never planned on coming back. It still looked like the bedroom of a little girl. White furniture with pink curtains and linens. The rug was floral and pastel. The closet had long been emptied, the bookshelf too. The windows were still secured with extra locks.

“Remember when you snuck me in one night and your dad came home early. Seb told us and I had to climb out the window.” Kyle chuckled. 

It was back when they were dating as teens. They weren’t doing anything except laying on her bed and talking. Her mum had a “if I didn’t see it didn’t happen” policy. Seb always liked Kyle so he came rushing in. He was sweeter when he was nine. 

“Piss off.” Nina threw a pillow at him. 

“Dad’s home.” He said, dodging the pillow. “We have to hide Kyle.”

Her father would never hurt Kyle, just yell at him until his father arrived to pick him up. Her on the other hand. He never got over the rumours about her that floated around school. No matter how much she told him that it wasn’t true, he always looked like he was one infraction away from calling her a slut. 

“Go distract him.” Kyle said. “This is now a special ops mission. You, Seb, are integral to this mission’s success. Nina will give you a signal once I’m away. Okay?”

“Understood.” Seb grinned, giving him a salute before running downstairs. It was lucky her room was on the corner. They waited till they heard the front door open before opening the window. 

“Stay safe,” Kyle gave her a kiss before climbing out. It had seemingly worked until her father came upstairs to remind her that her room was above the dining room and he’d seen Kyle run across the side of the garden to grab his bike. The locks were on the window the next day. She’d just been glad Kyle hadn’t gotten in trouble with his parents. They’d always been more understanding.

“Thought you were going to break your ankle.”

“Almost did.” He chuckled. He kissed her cheek before sighing “Things you do for love.”

She only grabbed her old rabbit plush off the bed. He’d need a good wash but after that he could resume his usual position of guarding her bed. She tucked it lovingly into her bag. 

She’d never really been in her parent’s bedroom while they were alive. It was always off limits unless her mum asked her to grab something.

The bed was made. The laundry all put away. It felt like it had been laid out for a magazine or an open house. 

She dug around in her mum’s jewellery box. It was mostly dainty little pieces with the standouts being gaudy large gems for military balls and alike. Nina dug around in the dresser, pulling out jumpers that she wanted to keep. 

There was a book in the back of the drawer. An old journal. Her mother was a religious diarist but this one wasn’t with the others by her desk. Nina flipped it open. January 1998. It would have been from before she was born. She’d never had much interest in her mum’s diaries. They all seemed uninteresting. She blamed her father for that. 

Poppy could have had an interesting life. She could have been a starving artist, fluttering about Europe instead she got married too young to a too old man. Had a baby with him - a baby that he didn’t seem to want. It didn’t make sense to her to give all that up. Nina was the same age she was when she had her. 

She didn’t feel ready to be married or have a baby. If she found out tomorrow Kyle knocked her up she’d probably get rid of it. He was a better man than her father but she didn’t know if she would be a better mother.

She slipped the journal in her bag as well. The air in the house was starting to feel stiff and heavy. Too much for today. 

“Let’s find Price.” She said, bumping Kyle’s shoulder with her head. 

He was in the conservatory. A little glass room off the back of the house. It was the one addition her father had made the entire time he owned it. A gift to her mum after Sebastian’s birth. A place for her to do watercolours. She was so excited and had Nina help her pick out the tile for the floor. All Nina could think of was that her mum didn’t get a gift when she was born. 

He was sitting on the little stool in the centre of the room. All the easels were empty, all her paints and brushes put away.

“I had it all put in storage. Didn’t want them to sit in the sun.” Price said, noticing her concerned look. “We can get them whenever you want.” 

She wasn’t sure what she’d do with them. Her mum was talented but had only focused on the same back garden landscape for several years. Years of skill and talent wasted in this little glass box. 

“Maybe…”

She didn’t like grief. It was a weight tied to her feet in the open ocean. It filled her lungs with regret that she never told Sebastian how much she loved him, anger at how she never stood up to her father and sadness for her mother who died the way she lived - by choices made by her father. 

“I think I’m ready to go now.” She sniffled. Kyle reached over and wiped her cheek before pulling her into a hug. 

“You did well, love. I know this wasn’t easy.” Price patted her back. 

The ride back to London felt longer than the way there. Kyle fell asleep and was snoring softly in the back.

“How do you feel?” Price asked.

“Exhausted.” 

“Reasonable.”

“I never really felt like I belonged there so it's weird to go back.”

“I know you and your Dad didn’t get on but Poppy loved you. William was always just intense.”

“I wish it’d just been him. I know that’s a fucked thing to say but it honestly feels like a joke that as his last act he took my whole family from me. Driving too fast. So fucking stupid.” He reached over and squeezed her shoulder. “I just wish I could have talked to her more without his presence.”

Price nodded.

“I think I might read some of her journals. Would that be rude? She’s dead so it's not like it matters but it's still her thoughts.” Price sighed, chewing on his upper lip. 

“I won’t stop you but I want you to think about what you might find. She wasn’t always a happy woman.”

“I don’t know if she was ever happy.”

He looked like he might say something but instead just squeezed her shoulder again. 

Price dropped her and Kyle off at her flat. It was dark by then. Kyle still yawning as they trudged up the stairs. 

“Next time Price buys you a flat, can you ask for one with a lift?”

“He didn’t buy it for me. He already owned it. I’m just… living rent free.”

“Whatever you say.” He leaned against her back as she opened the door. 

They had leftover pad thai and polished off the bottle of white wine in her fridge before finding themselves in her bed. Kyle’s mouth on her neck and her legs around his waist. 

He’d always been good in bed even when they were awkward teens. He was attentive and loving, eager to draw anything from a laugh, smile or orgasm out of her. 

It only worsened the pit in her stomach, one that had been growing since her family died. A voice came out of it telling her she’d lose him too. He might not die but she’d lose him some other way. She’d wake up one morning and he wouldn’t love her anymore. He’d grow tired or disgusted by her. Her nails dug into his back not out of pleasure but as a way to hold on. When he’d kiss away her tears, ones she blamed on over stimulation not fear, she wanted to break into sobs. 

She let him fall asleep quickly, not bothering with pillow talk. Kyle could sleep through anything, giving her permission to turn on her bedside lamp. She flipped through the journal absent mindedly. She sighed.

It felt like an intrusion to read it. Her mother could never give her permission and it felt like another violation of her life. Her father controlled so much of it why should Nina dig her fingers into something so private. 

She would have been pregnant when she wrote most of this. Nina was born in February of 1999. Did her mother want her? Was she excited to be pregnant? Was she scared? 

The house had lit up when she was pregnant with Sebastian. She remembered that much. Had there been any of that same joy for her? 

She thumbed through the pages, letting them glide like playing cards.

John Price ♡

The name stuck out to her. The heart stuck out more. It felt like a sickly reminder how young her mother was, that she still had crushes. John had always been handsome, still was. He was closer in age to her mother too. Two years younger compared to the ten years senior her father was. She read on.

He keeps coming up to me at the pub, always a little drunk, with boyish attempts at flirting. It’s working much to my dismay. He’s kind too. Ran a whole kilometre to get my book back to me the other night when I left it in the booth. 

“Always the gentleman,” She smiled. Price was the one with the crush then. 

She tabbed on. 

August 1998

Her smile fell, the pit in her stomach opening up more and more.

I’m pregnant. I think it might be John’s. 

Tag List: @queen-ilmaree@macravishedbymactavish@gogh-with-the-flow@water-bearz

If I'm missing anyone or if you want to be tagged in the next part lmk

#guest check

[knifedancer]

Emotional Security

Felinette Drabble inspired by a recent interaction with my partner (Mr. Knifey). Just our lovely couple having a sweet moment together, letting down some emotional barriers.

Aged up, established relationship, identities known, post-Argos redemption.

~~~~~~~

Marinette tilted her head up as she sensed her human pillow shift, watching as her boyfriend slowly emerged from his three hour nap with a yawn. His blond hair, usually styled with gel, was mussed from the extended contact with her pillow. His clothes were untucked and wrinkled, the top few buttons undone to reveal pale collar bones adorned with the remnants of a small love bite -- evidence of their affections but low enough for his shirt collar to hide from prying eyes -- and the silver chain from which currently hung his miraculous. The hand on her waist tensed, pulling her tighter against his long lanky frame as if to reassure himself of her presence in his half-awake state, while the one at her shoulder rose to rub the sand roughly from his long lashes.

"Greetings, Rip Van Winkle, how was your nap?" She murmured sweetly, enamored by the way his pale lips upturned into a small sleepy smile at her voice.

"Mm, excellent. What time is it?" His voice was husky with sleep, making Marinette's heart beat race at the tone. She watched as he groaned, the hand on his face now pressing two fingers to the bridge of his nose.

Running a hand up his chest to rest over his sternum, she nuzzled into his shoulder playfully. "It's 5:38, sleepy head."

With a start, two pale green eyes opened and looked at her in shock. Marinette smiled as the residual haze of slumber finally lifted and his usual sharp gaze took in their surroundings -- her pink room, the magazine cutouts and drawings pinned to the walls, his tie and vest neatly strewn atop her chaise, their two kwamis asleep in a toy hammock in the corner, the waning daylight through the overhead skylight, and finally her bedside alarm clock -- before his chest rose with a quick intake of breath. "What... How did I sleep for so long?"

She snorted softly, "Really? You woke me up early, promptly whisked me away after to have brunch, took me shopping, and insisted on helping me with the akuma earlier... all this after your three hour train ride from London!"

"Do you blame me, Tib? I missed you." The young man cupped her cheek, his eyes glowing with love.

She returned it with an exasperated, deadpan stare. "...The train you caught was less than an hour after your flight landed from New York. Have you slept at all in the last twenty-four hours?"

The blond rolled his eyes while his fingers tinkered with the tangled strands of one haphazard pigtail, "As if you're one to talk about getting rest, Miss Guardian. Don't think I don't know that you've been staying up all night designing again."

Marinette gasped, "Who told?!"

Her boyfriend grinned and his eyes twinkled with mirth, "My cousin."

"Et tu, Adrien?" She huffed, feeling Felix beneath her chuckle as he pulled her tightly against him again.

They lapsed into a comfortable silence, drinking in each other's presence for the first time in several weeks, happy to simply be. No words needed to be said when their hearts spoke volumes. Wrapped in their own little cocoon as the muffled sounds of Paris drifted up through her window from the city below.

Finally, Marinette broke the warm stillness with a soft snort. The blond raised a questioning eyebrow at the sound. "You know, if I was any other woman, I think you would be in trouble right now."

"How so?" He scrunched his brow, watching her with a slight frown.

"You napped for so long, any other woman would feel neglected from your lack of attention," she dramatically tossed her head off to the side as she had seen Chloe do on many occasions. "I've been a gaming widow before so I can handle it."

A mocking half grin spread across his features, "You mean you caused gaming widowers."

Smiling mischievously, she scoffed but he cut her off with a finger to her lips. It was then that she noticed the lingering shadows around his eyes and the vulnerable gleam in their green depths. His words came out as a soft whisper, as if he were afraid to be overheard. "Is it so wrong that I feel safe with you beside me?"

Raising her hand to his face, she watched as Felix turned to nuzzle into her palm with a sigh. She kept her tone warm and loving, hoping it would cover the concern bubbling up inside her heart at his sudden change in behavior, "No, of course not, my dove. I'm so glad I make you feel safe..."

"...you're so warm and soft, comforting, that I just...my heart cried 'home' and I fell asleep," he murmured, his words like a whispered confession as pale lips trembled against her skin.

The intimacy of his tone left her speechless as she stared at her boyfriend. Felix was often stoic or mocking, keeping everyone at arm's length with biting comments... Hell, his primary love language even appeared more often as teasing banter sheathed in a mirage of scorn. The moments in which he revealed his softer side were infrequent and reserved for the select few that he cared about, Marinette receiving the bulk of it after his mother. However, even then, there was still a piece of him left guarded that no one could touch. Amelie had hinted at a rough childhood but wouldn't go into details, simply giving the young designer the advice to have patience and make him feel loved.

The exposed man before her was so different from the one that stole her heart that she scarcely remembered to breathe! Perhaps the prolonged exposure to Duusu was attuning him more to his emotions? As the silence dragged on, Marinette noted the way his eyelids pressed closed and he drew shakier breaths, as if trying to suppress something deep inside. She could tell he was at his emotional limit, his muscles growing as taut as a wound spring as his defenses began to rise in the deafening silence. She needed to do something to assure him of his well-being while still leaving room for this new emotional territory their relationship had expanded into...

Taking a cue from his love language, the bluenette shook free of his tight grip and climbed on top of him with a playful smile, bracketing his face between her forearms as his hands unconsciously found purchase on her hips as she hovered over him. Guarded green eyes searched her face silently, as if waiting for a strike. "Are you saying I'm so boring that I put you to sleep, Mr. Fathom?"

He smirked, a light growl emitting from the back of his throat as she leaned in closer. "Oh I'll show you how boring you are, Love..."

They would both be tired and sore tomorrow but they certainly weren't bored the rest of the night. And Marinette certainly couldn't complain about his lack of attention.

~~~~References:

Rip Van Winkle: Dutch-American folktale about a man that, while out squirrel hunting to avoid his nagging wife, falls asleep for twenty years after imbibing in alcohol with strange mountain men.

Tib: Medieval term of endearment meaning "calf", because ladybugs are sometimes called ladycows. Also became a way to refer to young women of a lower class, also sweetheart, in the 1530s.

Dove: Victorian term of endearment, some breeds mate for life, felt it was fitting for the peacock (bird) holder.

#felinette #drabble #miraculous ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #felix fathom #felix graham de vanily #felix x marinette #marivanily #fluff #cuddling & snuggling #couple cuddling #cute and cuddly #pov marinette

[harleyquinnzelz]

MJEddie Photographs

Powell didn’t know what he had been expecting when he entered the bedroom of Marjorie Henderson. Perhaps something dark and demented, evidence that the girl really had been led to practicing Satanism by her boyfriend. That would have made it all much easier to pin everything on the pair, a way to tie the whole case up, nice and tidy. 

Instead, the room looked like something out of a Better Homes and Gardens magazine article, everything looking neat a pretty, from the frilly bedspread to the bottles of beauty products on the vanity. Hell, even the stuffed animals displayed on top of the trunk at the foot of her bed were neatly placed. 

“Does this girl seem like she’d be into Satanism to you?” Powell asked, glancing at Callahan who had opened the door to the closet, revealing the inside to be just as tidy as the rest of the room. 

“What? Satanists can’t like pink?” Callahan asked, looking over his shoulder at Powell before reaching up to a shoebox on the shelf of the closet, pulling it down as if expecting something exciting to be inside, some proof of Marjorie Henderson’s connections to the murders. He visibly deflated when he flipped the top off to reveal a pair of heels inside. 

“I guess this is the third-in-command in their army of darkness, huh?” Powell reached down to pick up a fuzzy pink stuffed rabbit that had been sat atop the rest of the stuffed animals, his fur soft but well-worn, evidence that it had long been a favorite of it’s owner. 

Powell sat it back down before wandering over the the desk, taking a moment to begin searching through the drawers. Pens, paper, folders. Everything was neatly arranged, and perfectly mundane. There were no signs that Marjorie Henderson had any inclinations towards murder, least of all the murder of her best friend. 

Above the desk with a board covered with pictures and, with a jolt, Powell realized that most of the images were of the girl and Eddie Munson. She had made little notes at the bottom of the poloroids in her tidy handwriting, and even dotted her ‘i’s with little hearts.

All the people they had talked to, at least the ones who seemed to legitimately care for Marjorie Henderson and Eddie Munson had said the same thing; the two of them were crazy about each other. Some of MJ’s friends had mentioned being surprised about the pair but assured Powell that whatever feelings they might have had regarding Eddie Munson he definitely loved MJ, and MJ loved him. 

Eddie’s friends had similar things to say, assuring Powell that despite outward appearances, Eddie was a good guy and there was no way there was anything nefarious going on in his relationship with MJ. 

Judging from the pictures, the pair certainly looked happy and while Eddie’s room had certainly been much darker and messier, they hadn’t found anything concretely tying him to Satanism either. It seemed like the rest of the force had been content to tie Eddie Munson to the murders, evidence be damned, but Powell wasn’t so sure. 

“Chief!”

Powell turned to see that Callahan had begun to look through MJ’s dresser, messily scattering clothes about, and was now holding a little pink book over his head victoriously. 

“I found her diary,” Callahan announced. “I bet all the answers will be in here.”

Powell sighed before waving the other man over. Somehow, he didn’t think that the diary would make anything any clearer and the more time that passed, the more Powell felt as if there was something else going on here.

inspo (seriously guys, Gwen was such a huge help to me when making this edit so please go check her’s out because it really is beautiful!

tagging:  @allaboutocs @ocappreciation @fyeahstrangerthingsocs @decennia @booty-boggins @mystic-scripture @margoshansons @bravelittleflower @ocs-supporting-ocs @hiddenqveendom @susiesamurai @reyskestis @starcrossedjedis @jvstjewels @foxesandmagic @arrthurpendragon @villain-connoisseur @asirensrage @eddiemunscns @emilykaldwen @stanshollaand

#allaboutocs #ocappreciation #fyeahstrangerthingsocs #muses #oc: mj #mjeddie #ship: leather and lace #no thoughts just mjeddie brainrot #i love them a lot okay #like a ridiculous amount #and loved making these cute little manips

[pinkmirth]

—𝟑𝟒 + 𝟑𝟓 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐋𝐞𝐯𝐢 𝐀𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫𝗺𝐚𝐧 🍓🥛

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《𝗺𝗼𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐧 𝐀𝐔 + 𝐬𝗺𝐮𝐭 + 𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐥 (𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠) + 𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝗼/𝐜𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐬 + 𝐛𝐥𝗼𝐰𝐣𝗼𝐛 + 𝟔𝟗 + 𝐟𝐞𝗺𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐛𝗼𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 + 𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝗼𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐧𝐚𝗺𝐞 “𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐭” + 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐜 ‘𝗺𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐠𝗼𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝗼𝐧𝐠’ 𝐭𝐫𝗼𝐩𝐞 + 𝐜𝐮𝐭𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐥’ 𝐠𝐫𝐮𝗺𝐩𝐲 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐲 𝐋𝐞𝐯𝐢 + 𝐬𝐡𝐡𝐬𝐡𝐡 𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝗼𝐫𝐥𝐝》

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Levi trotted with a scoff, grumbling profanities as always. He practically manhandled the doorknob to his living quarters, mind blurring between the basic elements of push and pull. 

“Shitty door,” murmurs Levi, not used to being this out of it, “and that even shittier company, makin’ me work overtime. I oughta quit—“

The knob then rattled from the other side, and he couldn’t help but let the briefest chuckle slip past his lips over your incoherent giggles, seeming to be rooted from excitement.

“About time, ‘Vi,” with the whish of the opening door, you set your eyes upon Levi with a grin, taking hold onto the black tie of his work attire to pry him further inside the house. 

“Is that supposed to mean you missed me?” Once again, Levi characteristically scoffs, despite his wholehearted smile. 

“‘Course I missed you, even if you came back by— what time is it, eleven..?” You recalled with a hum, engulfing your lover-man into a hug regardless. Sure, Levi finally arrived with less than an hour left of Valentine’s Day, but you couldn’t blame him. It wasn’t as though he wanted to come home at such a time..

Besides, it seemed as though he was a little caught up with last minute gifting as well, deeming by the pink festive gift bag he held in his unoccupied hand.

“Whatcha’ got there?” You queried jovially, pressing a chaste kiss upon his soft cheek before urging him to sit on the couch, plopping down beside him. The dark haired male sets the bag beside his feet, resting his elbow upon the puffy armrests.

“Whatever it is, it’s for me, yeah?” He snickered over the evident cockiness in your question, though you couldn’t have been closer to the truth. “No, I only bought it to sit and look pretty. Of course it’s for you, brat.”

He exhales, shifting around on the leather seat as subtle sounds emitted in response to his movements. “You know I hate to say the word, but..” you face Levi once you hear his lowered tone, the dark haired male prodding at his inner cheek with his tongue. 

“Sorry. For showing up late, I mean. Had to work overtime, out of all the damn days..” He kicks off his shoes all the while, huffing through his nostrils with a subtle eye roll.

“Hey, it's okay. At least you’re here now.” Your reply is genuine, soft. It causes Levi to smile to himself. 

“But I’ve just gotta say, That isn’t very fair of them to keep you so late.. Don’t they know you have me to come home to?” You address yourself with a teasing grin, inciting Levi to show a brief one of his own before his expression fell flat as always.

“It’s not as if they care about me. For all I know, they probably think I’m single,” was what he mumbled, watching you nod subtly to show he had your attention. Well, not exactly.

“You just gonna keep glancing between me and the bag or should I take everything in there for myself?” He snickered, picking it up by the drawstrings before allowing it to plunk down upon your lap.

“No, I wanna listen to you before anything else,” you told him, setting it down with a pout. “I’m all ears, ‘Vi.”

“I don’t have much left to say, though,” Levi shrugged, “I’m just..”

“Stressed?” You finished off your boyfriend’s weary statement, earning his lowly huff in reply as he threw his head back onto the sofa’s headrest, eliciting yet another sharp sigh.

“Yeah. More than usual.” admitted Levi, tugging at the base of his tie, which was beginning to feel rather contracting.

 “You want a little shoulder rub, my love?” Your suggestion caused the tips of his ears to go red in an instant.

Subtle massages always resulted in something much more lewd than intended with you and Levi, and maybe that was why you’d offered such a thing in the first place. Though, who was he to deny?

“..Yes, please.” His response came out gruff and brief, the grumbling male beginning to rid himself of his blazer. 

“The shirt, too.” You mused, gesturing towards his buttoned up dress shirt. “—And what if I don’t?” It was merely a part of his nature to rebel, so you didn’t mind his taunting query. He was simply acting resistant, but that was the Levi you knew and loved. 

“Then forget about the massage. It won’t be as effective with clothes in the way,” you stated matter-of-factly, tugging at his collar all too teasingly.

“Bullshit.” He spat, begrudgingly undoing his buttons nonetheless. “Such a good boy,” Levi practically growled in reply to the nickname. You were obviously enjoying this way too much for his liking.

He withdrew his hands from the sleeves with a hint of aggression, tossing it aside before allowing his bare back to press along the cool leather of the couch.

“Quit your damn staring.” Levi said, clicking his teeth before emitting another round of incoherent murmurs. “Calm down, I’m just— admiring.” You whispered, eyes trailing along every ridge and curve of muscle on his body, drinking up the physique of the man before you. 

With a height like Levi’s, it would never be expected for him to have such a defined frame. Despite that, you knew well of all the muscle that rippled underneath his button-up shirts and tucked-in ascots.

“Alright, you ready, ‘Vi?” You queried your lover with a grin, albeit you definitely weren’t finished with eyeing his toned abdomen until the image was burned into your visual memory. Although, knowing Levi, he was bound to grow restless if you didn’t make a move.

Shimmying over to straddle Levi’s slim waist, your fingers began off thrumming against his tensed shoulders playfully, earning a groan from him nonetheless. “Relax for me, won’t you?” You muttered, skilled digits threading along his skin, kneading over his contracting muscles. 

You were fixed on being painfully teasing, sliding your palms along his bulging triceps while veering closer, lips ghosting along his earlobe. Levi hoped you didn’t catch the way his breath hitched.

“This doesn’t seem like a massage anymore.” Levi spoke strainedly, “You feeling any better?” Was all you asked, averting from his earlier claim, “Well, you’re not doin’ so bad..” he then murmured, subtly shivering over the way your breath fanned upon his neck. He began to tilt his head expectantly, giving you leverage to bombard him with a kiss or two.

“Hey, Levi,”

“Yeah?”

 With the mischievous gleam you send him, his stomach delightfully twirls. You run your hands along his firm chest, palms gliding across his flawless skin before you tuck aimless strands of hair behind his ear, fingers grazing against his undercut.

“You want a blowie, too..?” He practically chokes, albeit his hooded obsidian eyes peering up at you yearningly. “You horny little monster—“ he isn’t even halfway through with his sentence when you slide yourself off of him, your knees meeting with the fuzzy carpet below.

“Yes or no, ‘Vi?” Your query is accompanied with a persuading smile, hands running along his slack-clothed thighs, threateningly close to his zipper. 

It wasn’t always like this; Levi would usually be the one having you blubbering and whining for his touch in mere seconds. Though, he was going to let you have this, just for today. It was the most he could do to make it up to you after leaving you by your lonesome on Valentines. Besides, it’d be a blatant, almost painful lie if he claimed that he wasn’t already enjoying it all.

“Just touch me already, dammit..” his grouching sounded more pleading than he’d wanted it to come across, but it seemed to work in his favor, considering how your hands dove to undo his belt.

Your fingers move nimbly, tugging at Levi’s slacks until he complies with the lifting of his hips, aiding you in slipping them past his hips until they pool at his ankles. To your delight, his member was already protruding underneath the thin of his skin tight briefs, subtly twitching while clad in his underwear. 

“You’re too cute, ‘Vi.” you swoon, dragging your fingers along his drool-worthy bulge. He then averts his obsidian eyes from yours, light hues of pink gracing his cheeks, breathing growing ragged. “Gettin’ all excited just because of a shoulder rub—“

“Fuck you.” he rasps, thighs tensing as he claws at the armrest.

“Geez, babe,” you chuckled lightly over his vulgarity, “I just wanna make you feel good after such a long day..” he was sure you were more fixated on sucking his cock, but sure, your statement worked out too..

The expression you held was one that Levi knew all too well, from the moment you'd pulled him in from the length of his tie to now, ridding him of those all-too-restricting boxers. 

Need. You needed him. Luckily, your loverman was more than willing to give in to your fervor for him.

You release the elastic of his briefs with a light snap before watching his cock bob against his abdomen, the lubricating precum causing the swell of his cockhead to look so sheen, so suckable.

“I don’t like the way you’re eyeing me, brat,” Levi heaved, eliciting a choked gasp once your dainty hands wrapped around him, “Should I look away, then? Your dick is out, so I really can’t help but stare.” You voiced out a taunting giggle.

They’re such a fuckin’ brat.. Levi had to scowl internally, since he was too busy stifling his pretty little groans on the outside. 

“You were all I could think about today, ‘Vi.” You whisper, your fingers pressing firm along the underside of his cock, “I'm trying so hard to hold back from touching you all over,”

“I ain't stopping you,” retorted Levi breathlessly, expression smug albeit his reddened cheeks and hooded eyes. Your unoccupied hand inched along his knee, achingly dragging your fingers across until you reached his athletically firm inner thigh.

“Fine then” you mused, “Just try not to cum so early, love.” 

Levi relentlessly stirred in his seat just as you decided to implement something that was sure to drive him mad; your tongue. His twitching cock prodded at your anticipating lips before sinking into your mouth swiftly, weighty and resting on your tongue with a repetitive throb. His saline-like precum tasted borderline saccharine as you relished the feel of his thickness encasing your mouth.

“Oh, fuck,” Levi voiced out an explicit moan with his head thrown back, the swirl of your tongue lathering at his cockhead causing him to seethe in pleasure. You ran your tongue against the underside of his length, trailing your wet muscle along the healthy veins that littered his dick.

By the moment his breathing picks up, you pull yourself off with a faint pop. Saliva coating your lips as you pressed them against his pink, raging tip, eyeing your boyfriend as he drank up each and every one of your wet kisses.

“I love having you in my mouth, baby,” you swooned, your dainty hand gripping him at the base as the other slid over to his balls, fondling and kneading until Levi elicited a lengthy grunt.

“I wanna taste you too,” He eventually uttered out, breathless but determined. “But I wanted to please you..! Leviiii—” he suddenly teeters towards you, cutting off your anticipated whine with a kiss, fervent and open mouthed, darting his tongue within your mouth just to hear your squeals.

“No buts. Let me, [Y/N].” He drawled out his plea, voice deep and guttural, bubbling with lust. 

“I want you to sit on my face,” Levi narrated his desire between your shared kisses, “But if you really wanna suck me off that damn bad, I've got a clue of how we could make it work.” Your ears perk up at his offer, your lips curving into a grin against his.

“A six-nine, huh? Who knew you could be so fun?” You taunted, punctuating your claim with the tug of your teeth upon his bottom lip. 

“Just get on top of me before I change my mind..”  hissed Levi, shifting over from being seated and  looming over you to lying flat on the couch. “Come,” he induced you to crawl towards him, his expression holding a complacent beam once you made your way over, his hands immediately beginning to roam along your ass while you pressed yet another chaste kiss on his tip.

“Take these off or they’re gettin’ ripped.” he’d demanded of you, eyeing and plucking at your polka-dot baby blue panties with a glare so craving that you could feel it— and it made your essence seep into the sheer material.

“So fuckin’ wet. You’re all riled up for me, yeah?” He murmured lowly, allowing you to raise your legs from either side of his face, tugging and shimmying your underwear down until you kicked them off of your ankle.

“Only you, Levi,” your words were hardly above a whisper, his member standing erected before your face, throbbing from the way your breath fanned upon it. 

“Fuck, just look at the way you’re dripping..” just as he spat his vulgar words, his strong hands finding their way upon your ass once again, he’d bucked his hips up, lunging his cock straight into your awaiting mouth, cockhead nudging at the back of your throat.

“Ngh—!”

“‘Bet you want me to fucking devour this cunt of yours, don’t you, brat?” Levi seethed, his breathy chuckle causing your pussy to throb, sounding almost condescending. “Hm? Is that what you want? Eat you out ‘til you’re crying?”

Levi then thrusts up into your mouth yet again, his pace steady as your saliva trails along the side of his pulsing dick, your murmurs converting into pleasurable shivers that ran from his sensitive tip all the way to the tensing in his abdomen.

“M-mhm..” your humming earns a guttural groan from the male underneath you, his warm breath fanning along your fluttering cunt. As much as you anticipated his touch, he found great fun in making you whine and wait. But that teasing entertainment would only last for long. Afterall, he practically pleaded to get a taste of you..

Once he finally ran his tongue along your slicked folds and lower lips, it was pure bliss. You shuddered over how he groaned against your heat, sinking lower onto his cock, as his wet pink muscle began to traverse through your cunt all the while.

“Damn,” Levi merely chuckles somewhat drunkenly, swiping the tip of his tongue against your awaiting clit, grinning once you begin to spasm above him, subtle but noticeable.

“You like that?” queries Levi, tongue making contact with your delicate bud as he suckles and licks, earning your muffled moans vibrating along his throbbing girth.

“Don’t stop sucking my cock, brat,” he then warns, popping his lips off of your convulsing heat, hips swiftly rolling up as his thick shaft stuffed your mouth.

You grind yourself against his mouth in response, eliciting a croaked sob when he abruptly jutted out tongue, gliding it from your puckering, drooling hole to your puffy clit.

“L-Levi—!” You pop your mouth off of his cock, emitting a warbled cry of his name. “Keep touchin’ me,'' he breathes, slender fingers digging into your hips as he grinds your saccharine, sopping cunt along his flickering tongue, your fervent rocking leaving him gasping for air.

You can’t help but bite your lip over his ministrations, getting your hands to work as they twist and writhe around his length. “I-inside, ‘Vi, inside,” you plead of your lover, lightly bouncing your pussy against his essence-lathered lips.

“Want me to tongue fuck your pretty pussy? Make you feel good?” He snickers darkly, prodding the oral muscle at your fluttering hole mockingly, “Then beg.”

“You’re so mean,” you whimper while your hands continue working at his cock, quickly giving in to his demands nonetheless, “Please, put your tongue inside me, Levi—“

A lengthy wail is forced out of you before finishing your statement, his tongue inserting you with a swift and warm thrust, swirling along your clenching walls before retracting back into his mouth and propelling right back inside, lewdly slurping at your juices with a lustful vigor.

“Fuck, fuck fuck!” Your repetitive cries of stimulation cause Levi’s tensing member to throb heavily, pulsing against the messy, pleasureful rubs of your fingers. 

“Tastes so fucking good,” he incoherently grunts beneath you, gently rotating his hot, salivating tongue inside your spongy, rapidly tightening walls, his own climax beginning to evolve from indistinct twitches to lurid shudders.

The sloppy and brisk flicks of your wrist cause vulgar, arousing squelches to elicit as your palm massages his fairly wet thickness, shakenly licking and sucking at his cockhead as his tongue’s ministrations did none but continue,  ravaging at your swollen clit despite the way your body violently shuddered above him.

“—g-gonna cum!” Levi simply hums against your cunt in response to your moaned sobs.

“Then cum. Cum in my mouth.”

You squeeze at his shaft, as if bracing for the blissful impact before emitting a lengthy, dulcet moan, your essence gushing upon Levi’s skilled tongue, legs trembling. He does nothing but drink you up lewdly, brows deeply furrowed as he groans into your pussy.

“Fuck, I’m cumming,” Levi then curses within a low, strained groan of his own, thrusting his hips up vigorously until thick, white ropes spurt out from his throbbing cock and onto your agape mouth, dribbling down your lips as you lazily dart out your tongue, letting it run down your throat with a sleepy hum.

You gradually settle your spent body on his own, resting your cheek against his firm thigh as he rubs at your hips consolingly, fingers skimming along the small of your back. 

“...You’re the most admirable brat I’ve ever known, y’know. Made this shitty day a little bearable, made me feel good.” you elicited a soft chuckle over Levi’s uttered attempt at a compliment. At least he had the right spirit, you’d say.

“Love you, ‘Vi,” you murmured genuinely.

“I love you more.” whispers Levi, arms circling around your waist from beneath you. “By the way, there’s money in the bag.” 

You suddenly spring up from your lax position, lidded eyes peering at the gift bag with newfound vitality.

“How much yen, ‘Vi?” You question, grinning widely.

“See for yourself.” retorts Levi.

You crawl off of his toned but relaxed form, peeking into the red-magenta bag expectantly as you dig past the pink bows and layering paper. He can’t hold back his grin when you emit a grateful squeal.

You turn back to Levi, laying your head right against his bare chest, bodies mingling as his hands run down to encase your hips, while your hand runs along his subtly barbed undercut.

“You’re the best, sugar daddy~” he grunts in distaste over your snickered joke, “I’m not your gotdamn sugar daddy, you little brat..” he grumbled, his palm landing against your ass with a faint smacking sound.

You take his ministrations lightly, giggling over the subtle spanking. Though, it seemed that Levi merely  wasn’t in the joking mood. It isn’t even five seconds after that when you’re flipped over, practically manhandled with Levi’s raw strength, the dark haired male now hovering over your pretty frame upon the spacey couch.

“Now that I think of it,” you’re anticipating his answer more than anything else, smugly grinning up at him expectantly as his hands encase your wrists, pinning them beside your head. Levi’s breath fans and tingles against your ear, your boyfriend apparently harboring a new surge of libido, “It seems like this brat needs a bit of punishment.”

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#levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi smut #levi ackerman smut #levi ackerman thirst #aot x reader #snk x reader #aot smut #snk smut #shingeki smut #attack on titan smut #captain levi #levi thirst #aot thirst #snk thirst #harmoni writes #harmoni loves levi #aot valentines

[barbarianprncess]

did you mean it?

read on ao3.

It’s a total of 3 significant events that led to this, her forehead knocked against his, breaths heavy and mingled, eyes wide and hearts bleeding.

It’s a total of 3 significant events that led to this, her forehead knocked against his, breaths heavy and mingled, eyes wide and hearts bleeding.

The first event isn’t really an event at all. It’s a prologue, necessary context to truly understand the monumentalism of this moment. It’s the memory of her eyes, piercing and reproachful, being the first thing that he saw after losing his mother. It’s shared trauma and oreos while they’re young and naive. It’s truces and training and growing up too soon together. It’s stargazing and stupid jokes saving eachother in every possible way. It's the culmination of the years Percy spent growing, learning, and being with Annabeth, and the unknown and therefore repressed feelings that came with it. Feelings are like the sea in that way, they don’t take well to being restrained. Percy has found that you cannot box in oceans or sentiments, they always find a way to spill over and out, with no regard for the destruction left in its wake.

The second event is Dionysus deciding on a whim that the inhabitants of his camp are ‘uncultured pests’ and taking it upon himself to set up a field trip for campers to the Ancient Greek Cultural Center in New York. (Percy thinks it’s really just to distract kids that were still shaken up about the battle at camp and the losses it caused. But, Dionysus would never say so. He’s far too proud to admit to caring for the children he’s been assigned to look after.) Argus loaded all the kids he could fit into the strawberry vans, as Chiron listed all the reasons this was a terrible idea. As it turns out, his worries were in vain as miraculously, no monsters attacked, and no mortal asked too many questions. No, instead, the only hitch in his plan was the glaring inaccuracies of the Center sending Dionysus into a fit of rage. He ranted for so long, their 2 hour long field trip ended up lasting until the place closed.

Event the third is the ridiculously long line leading to the mens room at the rundown gas station they’ve stopped at, causing Percy to traipse into the woods, deep enough to know that no one other than the squirrels were watching, and pee there. Unbeknownst to him, Annabeth had decided to take a quick walk in the forest as well, (in the opposite direction of his peeing endeavor) with the purpose of clearing her head. Both returned to the parking lot after 10 minutes, with no truck in sight. The gas station lights are turned off on the inside and the door sign has switched decidedly to closed. They look at each other in disbelief.

“Percy?”

“Yeah?”

“Uh...did they…”    

“They didn’t. They wouldn’t.”

“I think they would.”

“They would never-”

“I have pretty solid evidence to the contrary.” Annabeth deadpans, casually letting her hair loose and hopping on top of the miniature gas machine for motorcycles.

“But, how did-”

“No Argus.” Which means, no all-seeing eyes to double check the headcount. Percy begins to pace.

“Okay, but-”

“Two trucks.” Both of which are probably assuming Percy and Annabeth are on the other.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, gods.”

“Leave them out of this.”

“Those fuckers.”

“Which ones?” She asks. He looks up and she’s fighting a smile. He pointedly doesn’t notice the way her mouth curls up, or the way her hair falls around her shoulders and down her back, or how pretty she looks lit up by the neon red lights of the gas stations prices, which apparently doesn’t turn off when they close.

“Do you know something I don’t?”

“I know lots of things you don’t.”

“Ha-ha. I mean about how to get out of here.”

“Ohhhhh, let me think.” She wrinkles her nose in faux concentration, tilting her chin up towards  the sky. Percy is too annoyed to think it’s adorable. “Nope, not a clue.”

“Your phone?”

“Left it on the truck.”

“Iris message?”

“Percy, it’s dark as shit.” The laughter she’s been holding in comes pouring out. Nevermind that he feels his chest sigh in relief at hearing it for the first time since their quest, this is serious.

“You’re laughing.”

“Just a little.”

“You’re telling me, you don’t have a brilliant plan to get us on a truck.”

“Yes.”

“So, we’re stuck here.”

“Yes.”

“And you’re laughing?”

“You’re just really funny when you’re stressed.” She giggles. He can’t remember the last time she giggled. He missed it. He hates her.

“Oh my gods.”

“Okay, okay, look, I’m sorry. We’re halfway to camp right?” He nods. “I’m sure they’ll figure out we’re missing before they get all the way back to camp, but let's say, worst case scenario, they don’t-”

“Not helping-”

“And they make it the rest of the way back to camp. It took us four hours to get to the center, which means camp is two hours away, so if they make it the two hours back to camp before they realize we’re missing, and they drive back up-”

“C’mon ‘Beth, you know I suck at math.”

“We’re stuck here for five hours at most.”

“Five hours?”

“And that's if no passing cars let us use their phones to hurry the process up.”

“Five hours.”

She’s laughing again. “Seriously, what is so funny?”

“It’s just-” Her cheeks are red and she’s very poorly attempting to suppress her smile. “You’ve been calm in so many life or death situations, and being stuck at a gas station is what finally breaks through.”

“It’s nighttime.” She stares at him for a moment and then she’s laughing again, full bodied real laughter, and he's laughing too.

And it’s as if this gas station became their own personal Ogygia, an oasis, a resting place for them to be stupid kids again. And they don’t talk about the battle, or Rachel, or the volcano, or any of the million things set on tearing them apart. They talked about his mom getting serious about his new boyfriend, about Tyson’s underwater adventures and Grover’s searching shenanigans.

They smack talk with no real heat about who the better fighter is (Oh please, Seaweed Brain, I've been training since before you could tie your own shoes.), and argue about which ancient hero had the greatest journey (Hercules, are you kidding? Did you even read the myth?). They break into the gas station for snacks (What the fuck, Annabeth, where’d you learn to pick a lock? No, I wouldn’t prefer you break the glass, you psycho. Oh my gods, can you really break the glass?), and dissolve into giggles as they try to fit five drachma into the cash register.

They end up back outside sitting on the gas machines facing one another from three feet away.

“Your mom called me the other day.”

Percy, who’d been lazily squinting up at the murky sky, searching for any sign of stars, whipped his head to look at her. “What?”

“She called me on the phone. We talked for a bit. She said she wanted to make sure I was alright.”

“That sounds like something she would do.” He sighs and hops down from the machine, turning away from her, hoping to hide his blush from the dim light. “She cornered me on one of my off weekends, asked what was going on with us.”

“Oh.” He hears the shifting of fabric and assumes she followed him in sliding off the gas machine.

“Yeah.” It’s silent for a long time before she responds.

“What did you say?” She asks, her voice smaller than it was moments ago. He hears her scratching at the flat metal top of the machine. “When she asked, what did you say?”

He runs his finger through his hair, and one gets caught in a particularly large snarl. “Doesn’t matter.”

“It matters to me.” She whispers and gods he’s terrified but he really doesn’t have a choice when her voice wavers like that. Her words shake and every ounce of his being tells him to do whatever it takes to soothe it.

“I said we were fighting. That there wasn’t one sole reason for it, just a bunch of little reasons. I told her that I scared you when I….went away for two weeks last summer. And that you didn’t like bringing Rachel on your quest. I told her that we….. disagree about how to best handle Luke. That I probably wanted to protect you more than I wanted to listen to you.” She laughs softly and he blames what he says next on her laugh. It is the catalyst for everything that follows.

“I told her that we’d be okay. Because no matter what happens I’m always gonna love you.”

He hears her breath catch. He doesn’t have to look back to know she’s turned to face him fully. “Did you mean it?” She calls. He doesn’t answer. The words haven’t caught in his throat, they’ve spontaneously combusted in his vocal chords and he doesn’t think he’ll ever speak again.

The sound of gravel crunching gets closer until suddenly she's beside him, and he didn’t tell his torso to twist toward her, he thinks she might just be his center of gravity.

“Did you mean it?”

She’s looking up at him, and her hair smells like lemons, and her cheeks are pink, and her eyelashes go on for miles, and her sunspots are better than stars. And it’s as if she pulls the words right out of him, he’s hypnotized by everything about her.

“Of course I meant it.”

She exhales and closes her eyes and while he mourns the loss of the sight, his body moves on it’s own accord again and he’s edging closer and closer and she opens her eyes and here they are.

Their noses brush, and this time he closes his eyes, and their noses brush just so, and…

Whoa.

He was wrong, it wasn't just those three significant events that to her forehead knocked against his, breaths heavy and mingled, eyes wide and hearts positively bleeding. It’s clear he’s been waiting his entire life for this moment at this shitty gas station.

Waiting for this. Waiting for her.  

They kiss for a moment or an eternity, and they fit. His hands are on her hips and hers clutch at his shirt before sliding up to his throat, and it’s like his soul is whispering, oh there you are.

And then she’s pulling back, so she has just enough space to shake her head without disconnecting from his forehead.

She's breathless when she whispers, “This is a bad idea.”

His hands trail up and down her forearm of their own accord, and when he whispers back he’s breathless too. “Yeah, really bad idea.”

Her hands slide up from his chest to his shoulders, and then she’s kissing him again, with purpose, and he’s kissing back like his life depends on it because he thinks it might, thinks if he lets go of her he’d die on the spot.

It seems his theory might get tested when she pulls back again just far enough to whisper against his lips, “Is it always like that?”

He kisses her again, once, twice, because he can’t help it and whispers back, “I don’t know, you were my first kiss.”

He’d released any serious hold he had on her the moment she hesitated, but then she’s rocking back up to meet him halfway and his entire body thinks thank the gods. He actually sighs his relief into her mouth, as his hands desperately reach for her face, some fingers tangling in her hair, and their lips are magnets, opposites that don’t have a choice but to pull together. Despite how much he wants to keep doing this forever, he has to tell her.

“I don’t wanna lose you, again.” He means not ever, but he figures she understands the severity in his voice. She’s running her hand through his hair, and his slide up and down her back, and she knocks her nose against his as she answers, “I know, me either. I’m confused, this is confusing me.” And she tilts her chin just so, like she did a million years ago, and this time he kisses her.

They kiss for an infinity, he gets to taste her laughter when she giggles at the absurdness of it all, and it’s better than ambrosia. He kisses her until he doesn’t know anything else, until his entire universe is Annabeth Chase, with her cheeks and her curls and her lips. She is everything.

And then headlights penetrate their universe, voices bring an end to their infinity, and Chiron is speaking but it’s nothing, it’s all white noise because she’s no longer in his arms, and his center of gravity is being ripped away and he hears someone ask, “What’d you guys do?”

He’s still looking at her face when she answers, “You know, tried not to strangle each other mostly.”

But, she looks back before she turns all the way around and her gaze is charged and her lips quirk with the secret they share.

He is so screwed.

#so i wrote this in like two hours and its probably a mess but. here you go ig. #aoah ch 3 will be out soon but in the meantime #heres this lol #percabeth #percabeth fic #my fic #my writing #if you comment or rb i will die for you

[mrsavery]

OUR MIRACLE

Massimo Torricelli x Reader 

Warnings: None

Summary: You give Massimo the most precious Christmas gift that he always has wished but never got.

Word count: 1808

It had been exactly five years since your first Christmas together. Five years filled with love and happiness. The Christmas lights were dancing on the Christmas three, and soft music was playing in the background, as you walked through the empty house with a gift in your hands. It was for Massimo who, at this moment, was away for business but should be home in a few hours.

As you sat is down under the three and looked around the room, you could not stop smiling, knowing that one day things were going to change. You left the room and went to the kitchen, humming ‘All I want for Christmas is you’ under your nose. Since your husband was gone, the house felt empty and foreign, and you were counting hours until his return. The clock on the wall showed that it was only four in the evening, meaning that Massimo would not be home for another three to four hours.

You knew all about his lifestyle, about his work and family. It scared you at first, because you were afraid of his life not yours, knowing that every day could be his last. Never ever in the five years of being together you had been in danger, had been kidnapped or touched by others. Massimo had been doing everything to keep you safe, and he is keeping his promise.

You walked back to the living room and sat on the couch with a cacao mug in your hands. You will wait for your husband here and, while waiting, read a book that you have not been able to finish in a long time. It is a novel that Massimo gave you on your twenty-fifth birthday a few months ago. Your husband knows how much you love reading, and because of that most of his present are books.

One hour passes, then the other and soon you have finished reading the book. You put it in the bookshelf and return to your place on the couch. When ‘Last Christmas’ starts playing in the background, you close your eyes and let your mind take you back to your first Christmas together.

Massimo’s warm hands wrapped themselves around your waist, as he sat behind you on the floor. He put his head on your shoulder and inhaled your scent, like he always did. It helped him to calm down.

“Is everything alright?” You asked him.

“Si.” Massimo replied and afterwards kissed your cheek. “How was your day, farfalla?”

“I talked to my brother a few minutes ago.” You said and looked at the fireplace in front of you. The fire was dancing, and you felt Massimo shifter against you. “He said that my parents still cannot forgive me for leaving.”

Seven months ago, you left home, ran away from your arranged marriage and things that you knew. You were born and raised in a small town in west England where everyone knew everyone. There were two farms in your town, where most of the people worked. One was owned by your father, and the other was owned by the Carter family. They wanted to unite both farms, and the only way how to do it was by marriage. As the Carter family only had a son your age, and you were the first-born daughter in your family, you both were supposed to marry. Jonathan Carter was beautiful, but you did not like him.

You tried everything to get break the arrangement, even gave your place to your sister who wanted to marry Jonathan, but it did not give any results. Jonathan only wanted to marry you, claiming that you were the most beautiful girl in the town. Your brother, seeing tears in your eyes two days before the wedding, helped you to leave. You flew all the way down to Italy and started a new life there.

You missed your family very much, but the life was better for you here. If you tried to return… You did not know how it would end and did not want to find out. You had a new life here, a man who loved you and who took care of you. Massimo was giving you the world, but the pain in your heart did not leave easily.

You felt Massimo’s thumbs on your cheeks wiping away the tears that had fallen. “Everything is going to be alright.” You whispered and turned around to face your boyfriend. You got into his lap, wrapped your hands around his neck and kissed his lips softly. You looked into his dark eyes and whispered words that both never have told loud. “I love you.”

Massimo just smiled and kissed you back, this time with more passio. “I love you too, farfalla.”

You opened your eyes when your phone made a quiet sound. You took it in your hands and smiled because it was a message from your brother. He had sent a family picture of him, his wife, and their three years old daughter. You decided to call him in return, and your brother answered almost immediately.

“Hi, Merry Christmas!” You said with a smile.

“Merry Christmas to you too! Did you see the picture?” He asked. You could hear your niece’s laughter in the background.

“Yes, you all look amazing, when Massimo comes, I will show him it too.”

“Where is he?”

“Some unexpected things came up, and he was forced to go to the work. He should be back soon.” Your brother thought that Massimo owned a company and was CEO there. It was a partly true, since he owns a few companies around the world, but he mostly uses it as a cover, because truly he is a Don to the biggest mafia in Europe, but your brother did not need to know that.

“I will hope that Massimo comes home fast. I do not want you to spend the Christmas alone.” He said, and you heard pain in his voice. You have not seen him since your wedding that was four years ago, and both of you wanted to spent time together with your families, but never really had a chance.

“I will not.” You said and put a hand on your stomach. “Alice is growing up fast.”

“Yes, she is. It is like only yesterday she was born… I have been thinking about you and Massimo. You both are happy, but a little child would make things even better. You are already twenty-five, and he is, let me count… thirty-five.”

“We will think about it.”

“I have to go, [Y/N]. Mother is calling. Talk to you soon, alright? And give Massimo my greetings.” You were not able to reply, because your brother ended the call. You as well put your phone away and smiled when you looked outside the window and saw your husband’s car approaching. Massimo was finally home!

You stood up and made sure that room looks perfect, before walking to the front door. Before you could open them, Massimo beat you to it and smiled seeing you. “Hi, farfalla.”

“Hi, Massimo.” You let him take of his jacked and shoes before you ran into his embrace and kissed him with force. You had missed your husband all day, and you could not wait for him to open his present, because it was a tradition for you and Massimo to open presents on Christmas Eve instead of the next morning. “How did the meeting go?”

“I would have been happier to stay home with my wife instead of listening to them.” You chuckled at his answer.

“Nobody is perfect.”

“Only you.” Massimo said kissing your bare neck. “Can we skip presents and go up?’

You turned around and put hands on his chest. He was much taller than you, but the height difference had never been an issue for you. “After you open your present.”

He groaned. “Why does my present is so important? In my opinion, sex with my wife is more important than presents, because you are the biggest present that I have got.”

“Because after you open it, we will be able to go and celebrate.”

Massimo raised his eyebrow to you. “A celebration?”

You nodded and got out of his embrace. You walked to the tree and got out a little blue box that you had placed there earlier. “This is for you.” You said giving it to your husband. You sat down next to him on the sofa, as he slowly opened the present. Massimo undid the white bow tie, then unwrapped the blue wrapping paper, never leaving your eyes.

You smiled at Massimo when he opened the small carbon box in his hands and froze. He took out the white stick that was showing two pink lines and then looked at you. Massimo was too shocked to talk, and his tears were evidence of that.

It was a miracle that you were pregnant. Ten years ago, when Massimo was shot and his father was killed, he got the news that changed his life. He had survived an attempted murder but lost his chance to become a father. The chances of him becoming father were almost non-existent. Over the years he had reconciled that he will not have children, and once Massimo told you that you were free to leave him because of that.

You stayed, knowing that without him, you were nothing. Massimo came into your life as a savior, to save you from the darkness, but in the end, you saved him too. Doctors had said that chances were very low, even with artificial insemination, but you both managed to beat it all and become pregnant without trying.

When you saw these pink lines appear in the morning, you could not stop crying. It was a real miracle that you will always be thankful for. You and Massimo had talked about adoption, but it always ended with a fight and a make-up sex later. As much as you were ready to be a parent, you were not sure that you would be able to love a baby that was not genetically yours. There would always be fear that his or her real parents would show up and take him or her away from you. It would break you, so you both decided that it was not an option.

Massimo took his eyes off the pregnancy test and looked into your eyes that were full of tears too. “I’m pregnant, Massimo. We are going to have a baby!” It took him about three seconds to throw the stick on the glass coffee table and take you in his arms. You were wrapped in his large embrace and your husband’s wet cheek was pressed against yours.

“We are going to have a baby.” He whispered and put one of his hands on your flat belly. “A baby.”

You put your hand over his large one and said. “Our baby.”

farfalla- butterfly

#365 days #365 dni #massimo torricelli #michele morrone #massimo torricelli x reader #365 days imagine #365 days fanfiction #365 days fic

[mlmxreader]

Distraction | John Fitzgerald Byers x gn!reader

request: Yes once again asking for Byers... I'm...yeah...

Byers with the prompt "Look at that brilliant smile"

Thank you 💙

summary: living with the Gunmen has its perks... especially because you can distract your boyfriend.

warnings: swearing

You stretched as the sound of Frohike chastising Jimmy filtered through the cramped office, and despite knowing it would be cold and empty, you reached out to the other side of the bed; it was cold, but you knew that your boyfriend was still around. The tapping of a computer keyboard from his side of the office made you grumble as you dared to sit up, grabbing the dressing gown he always left out for you, knowing that you would steal it anyway but wanting to make it easier for you. It was still warm from the dryer where he had washed it long before you stirred; Byers had a habit of getting up earlier than anyone else.

But then, you exited the section that was closed off and called a bedroom, and you went up to Frohike, leaning against Jimmy as you raised a brow.

"Coffee filters in the printer again?" You guessed.

Frohike showed you the evidence, which made you stifle a laugh. "That's twice this week!"

"Relax," you yawned, shaking your head. "I'm sure Scully or Mulder can steal one from HQ if you're really that worried about the printer."

Frohike shook his head, waving you and Jimmy away, but while Jimmy went to go watch the television, you found yourself at Byers' desk, sitting on the empty spot he always left for you, making sure that there weren't any papers there, and he smiled up at you.

"Good morning," he sounded chipper. "How did you sleep?"

You shrugged, looking at his screen for a moment and starting to read what he had already drafted up. "Pretty good... this about the San Francisco garter snakes?"

"Uh, yeah," he nodded. "You don't... you don't think it's good?"

"Oh, it's good," you reassured with a shake of your head. "Reminds me of the bear, though."

"It, it does?" He questioned, a slight frown on his pretty lips.

You nodded. "Yeah, except this time there wasn't a knife to your face."

Byers sighed, running a hand through his hair as he kept your gaze, leaning back in his seat a little. "I had to do something."

"I know," you hummed. "But... even I gotta admit, it was pretty hot how you stared that poacher down."

His features flushed with pink as he cleared his throat and tried to adjust his perfectly set tie. "Y-you think so?"

You came to stand behind him, letting your hands drift to his chest as you leaned down, your lips against his ear. "It was hot as fuck, Byers, give yourself some credit."

Closing his eyes, Byers swallowed thickly, daring to grab one of your hands, lacing his fingers with yours almost by nothing but instinct. "Thanks..."

When you caught his smile, you used your free hand to gently trace his jaw, chuckling softly. "Look at that brilliant smile... absolutely gorgeous."

Byers knew that he needed to get the article done, he needed to write what he had, but with you providing such a wonderful distraction, he knew that he needed a miracle; although, if he was honest, he wouldn't have asked for one.

#mlem writes #john fitzgerald byers x reader #john fitzgerald byers #john byers #the x files fanfic #x files fanfic #the x files #x files #the lone gunmen

[huenjin]

chains.

pairing — lee felix x reader

word count — 2.4k words

ratings — 18+

genre — smut, includes sub!felix, top!reader, chains, bondage, slight bdsm themes, fellatio, facial, slight dacryphilia.

note — inspired by that korean asmr by asmr zero that made me realise i might be a switch sometimes and might not just be all submissive. uh oh!

You are sitting on your bed with Felix's tongue wrapped around yours, your face brought so close to his that when you open your eyes you see his beautiful freckles and his long eyelashes. His arm snakes around your waist as he pulls you closer into him.

Felix had initiated the make out about ten minutes and fifty six seconds back and something about him wanting to take it slow really does not sit well with you tonight. Or at least with the thought in the back of your head as to what you had planned or wanted tonight.

And when you pull back, he whines like the absolute baby boy he is, his arm tightening around yours and the other still holding your face, cupping it dearly.

"Baby, I want to—"

You stand up to Felix's surprise. His eyes widens, the light of the room hitting his contacts and you smile comfortably — also, to remind him that it is still your home and you actually couldn't go anywhere else from here, funnily.

"Was it too much? Did I move too much? I'm s—"

"No, you were perfect," you shut all his nasty thoughts before opening your cupboard. Felix stares at you, his eyes keeping at your figure as he watches you move and search for something.

"Then?"

You don't respond and instead find the thing you were searching for. Pulling out the chains you had found in this store the other day and having thought of Felix the very instant your eyes landed on them, you pull them out, the metal clinking on the tiles floored underneath your feet.

Felix looks down, his eyes fixed on the chains and he laughs, lips curling up as he asks, "Are you into that sort of think, baby? Do you want to be tied up?"

His face is just so lit up that you didn't know whether you wanted to break his misconception. Of course, the both of you being switch often does ensure times when he lets you dominate him or be on top but they aren't that common off late and maybe that's why you wanted this night to go that way.

You miss making him your perfect little baby boy.

You use your other hand to push your boyfriend back on the bed, the chains hitting the post of the bed and he realises. Felix realises with that push of yours that you are leading tonight.

"I... Are we..," he stammers. Felix's throat dries up at the sight of you hovering over him with the chains and his voice turns hoarse and deeper. "I—"

"Can I chain you up and dominate you tonight?"

You do not mince your words in any way, putting it forth the exact same way you want Felix tonight — underneath you for you to devour him and have him cry and beg for you. Felix's coral lips part as he stares at you and then his eyes wavering to the chains by his side and he knows of only one thing.

He trusts you with his whole heart.

"Yes," he says, eyes locking into yours and you lift your torso off of him and stand on your two feet, the chain hitting the flooring again.

"Strip down," you order and he lifts his shirt over his head quickly, the pastel cream sweater hitting the floor followed by his loose pants. Felix looks down at his boxers and the evident bulge that seems to only grow at your dominance and he gulps.

"All the way." Your hand moves forward to touch the elastic of the boxers before pulling it back and letting it go, the elastic slapping aginst his pale skin till a light shade of pink covers the area. Felix's breath is caught in his throat as he stares at your hard eyes in this close proximity and he finds you delectable. He does as you tell him. Boxers off.

"Move back," you tell him, smiling warmly and Felix listens exactly. He pushes his body off slightly as he drags his body upwards, his head hitting the pillow.

It's a pretty sight in all honesty — Felix looking up at you, his head against the pillow and his lips parts so little that you see his teeth slightly and his eyes hooded in anticipation and all you know is that you felt mighty and powerful. You want to give Felix the best orgasm ever and make him want you, over and over again, till he's in tears, face ruined with translucent stains.

"Is this alright?" Felix's voice is so feeble that you want to hold him close to your chest and pet his hair. You nod and proceed to hover over him with the chain firm in your hands.

"You're doing so good, baby," you kiss his forehead before asking, "Your hand, please?" Felix bites his lower lip before extending his arms up at you. You take his wrist and tie it up together with the chains, only for you to tie the other hand to the bedpost.

"This is so, so embarassing," his accent is thick as he mumbles, voice hoarse. "I— It's been so long and maybe that's why, but it's so—"

"Less talking, baby boy," you tell as you go down to hold his leg and Felix budges, his eyes widening as he quickly asks, "Are you chaining up my legs too?"

Your head lifts up to look at your boyfriend and your eyebrows raise as if he had asked a question he already knew the answer to. You take his head and hook the band at the end of the chain to his ankle, one after the other. Felix shakes his legs a little and the metal of the chain clinks against each other, the sound hitting the wall only to amplify in your ears and strangely, you like it. A lot more than you thought.

"You'll stop me if I do anything you don't like, right?" You ask Felix as you sit on top of him, body hovering over his as you sit on his bulge, slightly rubbing your clothed core against it. "Right, baby boy?"

"Yes," he strains out, groaning slightly at your small movement. You feel his cock twitch underneath you, his legs buckling and the chains rattling.

"And what do you say when it's too much?" You move yourself slightly back, knees sliding against the soft sheets until your face hovers over his twitching cock and you lick your lips, pushing your hair to the other side as you take hold of it in your hand.

Felix doesn't reply, squeezing his eyes tightly at the sudden contact of your hand and his cock. You give it a gentle squeeze and ask again, "Baby boy, reply. What do you say when it's too much?" Your thumb grazes over the tip as you squeeze.

"Peaches, peaches," he gasps out as you increase the pressure. "Oh my god, Y/N. Please."

"Good boy. Please what?" You move your head forward and lick a small stripe from the base to the tip. Felix wants to hold his hair and he tries to move his hand instinctively only to remember that it's tied up. The metals clink against each other and Felix groans.

"Move, please," he crunches his noes up and his lips part. "Please. Do something. Don't tease me."

"My baby doesn't want me to tease him, does he?" You lick another strip, this time circling over his glans and Felix moans.

Felix's voice is gorgeous when he begs, low, deep and rough and as visceral as an embrace. You shudder at the impact this man has on you, the soft fabric of your clothing abrasive against his over-sensitized skin. You stroke his cock, squeezing the head gently to tease out thin early release, coating the precum over the tip.

"But what do I do," you look at Felix, his eyes widening when he realises what you have in mind. "What do I do when I want to tease my innocent baby boy?"

You take your time just as you promised, licking small stripes slowly up his cock, occasionally sucking at his balls, rubbing the skin between your fingers. Felix doesn't stop letting out small groans and purrs trying to holding onto something in vain, though holding just his other hand, fingers interlaced in a veneration as he begs for you to take him wholly.

And like a last pathetic attempt, Felix bucks his hip upwards, his reddened tip hitting your lips in surprise as he cries, "Please, please, please—"

You stop in your movements. You bite your lower lip, eyebrows raised as you look at your boyfriend who has his eyes watering and you don't realise how much it excites you — to have him crumbling and begging underneath you.

"Felix."

"I'm sorry, but please, Y/N. Please, please—" He's begging. Your lips curve up slightly.

"You know you have to be a good boy for me, baby boy, to get rewarded. Right?"

"Yes," his voice pitches higher. "Yes, yes. I'll be a good boy. I'll be your good boy. I'll just be your good boy. Only for you." He repeats over and over again, tears finally spilling. "Please."

It's perhaps the tears that makes you give in. It most definitely is the tears. You finally hold the base of his cock and hollowing your mouth, you take him by his tip slowly, licking at it before sucking at it. Chains rattle and Felix moans so loud that he doesn't know whether it is because he's relieved or because he likes being dominated.

You take him in further, sucking at it as you flick your wrist, carpel gliding against each other as you move your hand over his cock. With your lips wet from both your saliva and his precum, you pull out and lick at it, feeling him swell.

"Fuck," you swear and your teeth slightly grazes in response before you stare at him, "Don't swear with that pretty mouth, Lix."

You take him again in your mouth, tongue licking the underside of his cock from the base to the top. The chains clink and he moans, "Hah, babe."

Your head bobs up and down as you work your mouth around his dick, flicking your tongue this way and that to touch at sensitive spots. Every now and then, you suck the excess saliva off with a wet sound, one you knows comforts Felix a lot. The chains clink a lot quicker, rattling against each other and you know he's soon approaching. You pause with your tongue still pressed to the head of your boyfriend's dick.

"Thank you," he mumbles and you catch the gratitude. Your core brushes against his thigh, rubbing yourself against him. Felix pushes his luck and asks, "Can you unchain me so that I can grip on your head?"

You don't respond and instead suck furiously. You make small moans just to let the vibrations hit his dick and sensitise him. And because you know Felix loves it when you are vocal for him. You move your head up and down his length, squeezing the base of his cock while you are at it.

It doesn't take long for Felix to climax. With the ministration of your hand, wrists iced and your mouth bobbing up and down, occasionally letting his cock slip past into your throat, tongue placed flat against his underside, his twitch evident to you. The chains clatter against each other, his knees buckling and Felix's gasps are short, raspier and quicker.

"Baby, baby," he rasps out. "I'm going to come. I'm going to come. Oh my god," his voice peaks. "Oh my god. I'm going to come."

You take him out of your mouth as you press your core further into his thigh, his knee bucking suddenly and his flesh hitting against your covered slit. "Do not come till I tell you." Your hand pumps his length rapidly, up and down in a rhythmic motion. The room is filled with moans from Felix's lips, chains rattling loudly and your loud breathing.

And then he trips over into one of oblivion and euphoria. Felix moans as he finishes, a huge load of cum spurting out onto your face, and missing your mouth and tongue that sticks out unknowingly, without a command from you. Felix is too caught up in his overload of emotions to realise what he has done. The slimy, sticky liquid drips down your face, bit by bit onto your cleavage and you look down. Felix opens his eyes and your hand loosely pumps his cock to bring him down his high.

And when he sees the mess he has made of you, his lips part and he is quick to apologise, "I'm sorry. I didn't realise—" he sighs and tries moving his hand to clean you up, though in vain. The metal chain clinks, leaving Felix only with words of apologies to spill out before you.

"Remove the chains, Y/N," Felix asks of you. "Let me clean you up." He shakes his limbs. He whines, "Y/N."

You move away from Felix, jumping off the bed and reaching out for the wet tissues by the side, cleaning yourself up when Felix calls out for you again, "Baby, please, let me help you. I'm sorry."

"Felix," you call out for him and he stops his movements, the rattle of the chains momentarily ceasing. "Eyes on me." You remove your shirt, lifting it up and dropping it down, followed by the rest of your clothings. He gulps, his prominent Adam's apple bobbing up and sliding down slowly.

"Babe?"

"Lix, you remember your safe word, right?" You slowly get back on the bed, crawling towards your boyfriend still chained to the bed. Felix nodes and you tell him, "Use your words, Lix."

"I remember."

"Good." You hover over him. Felix gulps. "Let's get started on your punishment now then. Someone's been defiant, haven't they?"

#stray kids smut #skz smut #felix smut #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #skz imagines #skz scenarios #felix imagines #lee felix #felix #skz #stray kids #kpopscape #lee felix x reader #felix x reader #sub!felix #sub stray kids #dom!reader #boyfriend!au #kpop smut #kpop imagines #writings.rue

[sweetaesuga]

in your heart | halloween

pairing: jungkook x female reader

genre: fluff, lil smut, fratboy jk, ex-fuckboy jk, bookworm reader! established relationship!

warnings: language, jk is horny😐 but she lets him hit it🤠, annoying kids

word count: 2.1k

synopsis: halloween with jungkook and his cousin.

timeline: takes place after the events of in your eyes

↳ in your heart; masterlist

a/n: this is late but EYES WIDE OPEN IS A BOP. i need to start writing my next fic and stop writing drabble skdjdjd

"Fuck, you look so good. Lets just go to your place and spend the night there. Fuck them kids," Jungkook's hands disappeared under your purple dress that he adored and despised at the same time. He wasn't complaining but he didn't want any other person possibly looking up your dress to catch a peek of his favorite pink panties.

"We're not ditching Hyun. You promised him last time that you wouldn't miss out again," he groaned as he instantly knew what you were referring to. Last Halloween, he ditched the both of you for a girl he was wanting to mess around with. Jungkook wasn't going to let this opportunity pass up so last minute he notified you that he wasn’t coming.

"Stop reminding me of my shitty mistakes," he sighed. His face was buried into your green scarf that tickled you every five seconds. His slicked back hair brushed against your cheek constantly. His hands slipped under your underwear causing you to yelp and push him away. "What the hell is wrong with you? It's Halloween and there's kids around."

He pouted, his lower lip pushing out. "What's wrong with me? Not my fault, you look incredible," his eyes lingered on your purple gogo boots that he seemed to be obsessed with. Even imagined you bent over with them while he was behind you, pounding into you. You looked so angelic with them on. He wasn't sure how long he can hold himself back for. "Why would you wear this if you know how I am?"

"It's our costume, dumbass," you pointed at his white pollo shirt with the bright red tie in between. His dark jeans which tightly enclosed around his thick thighs. "I'm Daphne and you're Fred Jones," you turned away from him, waiting on his cousin to burst through those doors anytime soon so you could avoid Jungkook’s stare.

"Why couldn't we be Shaggy and Velma?" he leaned on the hood of his car, watching a child trip over his own feet. He was close to bursting out in laughter but you shot him a glare just in time. "I wasn't gonna laugh. Seriously though, we're better off as them. Appearance wise—well actually Daphne could've suited you more than Velma but whatever."

You rolled your eyes and stood next to him. His arm came around your shoulder to hold you close. His Victoria's Secret perfume was strong but you don't comment on it."Hyun wanted to be Shaggy. It would make way more sense for him to be, he has a dog."

The second you finished your sentence, a brown Great Dane puppy came running down to you from the house his owner was in. Her steps are big as she leaped to make it to Jungkook and you fast. You squealed, throwing your boyfriend's arm off of you. Jungkook would whine about it but how could he, when it's a cute puppy.

"Nala! Hi girl, how are you doing?"she wagged her tail around as you bent down to caress her fur. A red harness around her chest but no sign of a leash on her. "You don't have your leash on, go put your leash on!" she ignored you and jumped on you again.

"We should get a dog," Jungkook thought out loud from thinking about it too hard. His ears flushed a tint of red from the tip. He turned to see your reaction but you don't appear to be bothered from his suggestion. He released a breath he didn't notice he was holding in. His stupid mind wondering the impossible. There was no way you would want a dog with him.

Luckily his aunt and cousin saved him from any more trouble. He rolled his eyes when Hyun came running to your arms instead of him, his cousin. His brown hair was messy to fit the role of Shaggy. Honestly, Jungkook still thought that he would've made a perfect Shaggy.

"Aww, you look so adorable Hyun! I haven't seen you in almost a year," you hugged him tightly. Ignoring the way your boyfriend was glaring at him, he kissed your cheek. "I can't believe I missed your birthday, I'm so sorry."

"It's okay," he reassured you as his mother came from behind him. She greeted the two of you, mentioning how she was happy when she found out the news of the two of you being together.

"It was about time," she muttered under her breath, taking a glance at Jungkook when she bent down to hook the leash on Nala. He looked away, ashamed of previous actions. If Jungkook could’ve been with you over sooner, he would've stopped fooling around with other girls. "Alright, you got everything?" Hyun nodded and gave his mom a kiss. "Behave good for Jungkook and Y/N," she turned to you, handing over this pumpkin basket. "If anything happens please call me. Have him home by ten please."

"We will, come on Hyun," you held your hand for him to take. He hugged his mother again before grabbing your hand. The contrast between the two was cute, your larger hand engulfed his. Jungkook made sure that he rubbed the top of Hyun’s head gently so he wouldn't fuss about Jungkook being extra vicious with him.

Hyun waved at his mother as Jungkook clutched his free hand, watching her figure shrink. He tightened the grasp around your hand. Nala walked in front of you, sniffing all the areas. She became annoyed at one kid, dressed as a witch, coming to pet her harshly. Jungkook was close to telling the child to fuck off but you warned him.

"You're not dad material," you followed Hyun to a house. Jungkook's hot on your trail and ready to defend himself but Nala ran towards a plant to piss on it. "Seriously, don't bother trying to get me pregnant, I do not want your babies."

"Oh shut up. You told me I'm daddy material."

"I thought we agreed we weren't into that too," Hyun ran up the house with the minimal decoration. There were really no other Halloween decorations besides the basket outside with a note on it and a pumpkin on the right. Talk about being in the spirit. "It says to take one," you pointed at the basket filled with bags of candy.

"Take all of them."

"No! Just take one."

"Take all of them, who cares?"

"I care!" you turned around to give him a dirty look. He was already smiling at you, apparent that he knew that he was annoying you. "Take all of them, one of the kids are eventually going to," he shrugged when you continued to stare at him. "I'm speaking facts, bubs—oh! Nala's pooping, did you bring a bag?" he asked while having a stare down with the puppy. Her eyes stared simply at Jungkook as she continued her business on the freshly mowed grass.

"Why would I bring a pooping bag?!" you turned towards him and away from Hyun. He picked up handfuls of candy, nearly putting it in his basket before he noticed something.

"Well shit," Jungkook laughed, looking around to see if any other kid heard him. There's a group of kids coming for the house you're standing at. "My aunt didn't give me one."

"I'm not leaving the poop here," you pointed to the sign that clearly said to pick up after your dog. Jungkook groaned before becoming aware of what was in Hyun's hand. He handed him the poop bag, small poop emojis imprinted over it.

"That's so cute," you gushed over the stupid bag and the puppy too. You don't listen to the basket of candy being emptied into Hyun’s pumpkin basket, too engrossed into Nala. Jungkook shot a thumps up to Hyun, satisfied with his cousin.

Even if you do seem to notice how full his basket was despite only being to five houses, you don't mention it. His collection of candy for the night was becoming so full, Jungkook had to carry some in the pockets of his blue jeans until they eventually became stuffed. He also filled up a takeout bag of Burger King where Jungkook took the two of you to eat.

Nala's on his lap, sleeping from the almost two hour walk. Jungkook picked her up after the first hour and was pleased with how sweet she was in his arms. She clearly enjoyed his warmth the most out of the two of you. The evidence was her snoozing in the middle of noisy fast food place. Hyun was somewhat tired and ready for bed. His bedtime was nearing and the signs of exhaustion were lucid.

"Is Y/N like your girlfriend?" Hyun asked, his chicken nuggets being sloppily dipped in the ketchup. His feet swung high since he was unable to touch the ground.

"Sadly, yes," Jungkook sighed and looked over at you. He smiled at you as he watched the grin grow on your face. "We're dating now. No longer am I a free man, Hyun."

"If you marry her then does that mean she's like part of the family?" Hyun blinked. A bit of ketchup sliding down the corner of his mouth before you wipe it for him.

"Yes—actually I don't what she'll be to you but yes she'll be apart of the family," Jungkook grabbed a fry before pointing it at you. "So if you want her to become apart of the family, tell her to start proposing to me."

"Isn't it the other way around?" he asked, innocently. His curious eyes make your heart flutter.

"No," Jungkook and you respond at the same time. He kicked your boot lightly underneath the table, smiling like an idiot. "Y/N will be proposing to me, we would like to break stereotypes. I want an expensive ring too and I expect you to take care of me."

"Can I be your boyfriend too?" Hyun almost cut off Jungkook to ask his question. You could practically see the steam rushing out of Jungkook's ears the second his cousin finished. You giggled and nodded. Jungkook kicked you underneath the table, trying to persuade you to glance over at him. Hyun hugged you, eyeing your boyfriend. The glint of the sinister in there from your response.

"Well if I marry her, she's my wife," Jungkook jabbed his pointer finger into the boy's chest. "And you're just her boyfriend so you would be nothing compared to me," he leaned back. His arms crossed over his chest, his biceps flaunting out of nowhere. You mentally rolled your eyes at his competitiveness emerging. "Besides she said she wanted a big strong man not a little boy like you."

"That's not true, right?" Hyun turned to you. His eyes begging to you that you truly did not say that. You were prepared to disagree but Jungkook spoke again.

With a playful smug on his face, he rubbed the end of his combat boot against your exposed skin. "That's not she told me last—"

You kicked his leg harshly, earning a cry from him. He grunted as his small jump away from you awakened the puppy. "Be quiet, we're literally in a public place," your cheeks are warm from the information about your intimacy he was spilling out. "We should get going, it's getting late," you slid out of the booth and ignored the protests of the boys who wanted to stay longer. You poured water into Jungkook's hands for Nala to drink outside before departing.

Jungkook carried Hyun on the way back. Slumber made up its mind and took over the exhausted kid. He had poured his energy out running from door to door. Jungkook offered to also carry Nala on his other side but you didn't want to force him to bear all that weight so you suggested for him to take the basket. Once you returned to his aunt’s home, his uncle removed Hyun from his arms before thanking you for looking after him and wishing you a good night.

Jungkook's ready to doze off too tired from the events of tonight to even go to his own place. His ascot tie undone by the time he reached your small apartment complex. He almost missed it if he didn't stop to stare into the mirrors to make sure he wasn't parking on the red line. Your fingers hooked around the ends of your pink lacy underwear before pushing it down. He doesn't grasp how in a blink of an eye, you're on top of him with your buttons from your dress undone.

“What are you doing?” he asked, his hands already on your hips to direct them. Jungkook fidgeted as he watched you pull the straps of your bra down slowly. He was on the verge of taking you right then and there in the backseat of his car as you teased him.

“Giving you your sweets too.”

#bts fluff #jungkook imagine #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook drabble #jungkook fluff #jungkook scenario #jungkook x y/n #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook au #bts fic #bts fanfic #bts au #bts x reader #bts x y/n #bts x you #bts drabble #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts fiction #jungkook fiction #fratboy jungkook

[yuzukult]

—saccharine

pairing: seokjin x reader word count: 2,319 prompt: seokjin doesn’t believe in love at first sight. so... what’s this feeling that’s churning in the pit of his stomach when he meets you for the first time? warnings: none. minor cursing. fluff attack. a/n: to celebrate my follower milestone! thank you all for supporting and reading my fics, it means a lot to me!

Everyday is a continuous, recurring cycle. 

First, the alarm rings. Then, he slams the snooze button on his phone before resuming into a light sleep for another eight minutes. The annoying horn sings again, and a wash of regret hits from never changing it out of the default, so he finally accepts this by getting up and sliding his feet lazily into a pair of slippers by the side of his bed before making way into the bathroom.

His hair is a mess. But it’s a mess everyday. Life has gone to the point that even brushing his teeth has become a dreadful chore. Shuffling through his bin of hair products, he finds the mousse he consistently loses and finds on repeat and then slaps a boatload of it onto his head.

This is basically a day-in-the-life of Kim Seokjin. Except it’s everyday. It’s never ending. It feels like one of those time loop movies where when he ends his day, it starts back off exactly like it did yesterday. 

To be fair, he can’t complain. He’s got a roof over his head, an apartment all to himself (that means without a roommate), plus a well-paying full time job. It’s hard to whine and cry about how his life seems to have no excitement, other than the occasional meeting with his friends, but contrarily… there’s not much to look forward to.

It’s the same mundane activities. Opening the cabinet above his kitchen counter as he usually does at this time, he grabs his favorite Cheerios. Good starts with happy hearts, as their commercials say, but Seokjin isn’t entirely sure that’s true. 

He’s a “cereal first and milk last” kind of guy. Not that he judges those who do it backwards, but he thinks if anyone does the routine in the opposite order, they might actually be backwards. It’s a condition—he makes it seem, and it’s a rather controversial topic for the guy.

Nonetheless, he enjoys his bowl of breakfast goods. He reads the news on his phone, and when the reminder on his watch dings, Seokjin rushes to put his dishes into the sink and hauls himself down the hall, in direction to his walk-in-closet that evidently is just too big for it being only himself. It’s a constant indication that he’s alone. 

By the time it’s 8:30AM, he’s dressed in his suit and tie, hair slicked back, and has a satchel slung over his shoulder in preparation of yet another day at the office.

But maybe he’d stop by that new place this morning. Change of pace. Maybe it’ll liven up his day and give him something to look forward to. Maybe he’d like it.

The place is around the corner, less than a three minute walk the moment he leaves his apartment building, and if he timed himself, it probably takes longer to leave his home and out of the building. The shop is cute; decor stickers are laid out delicately along the windows, the walls are painted a pretty blush pink, and there’s smiles on all the workers’ faces as if they enjoyed being there.

There’s a smile on your face in particular that captures his attention.

Seokjin is a relatively kind guy, or so he thinks he is. He’s never pinned over girls like those shows he’s seen on TV, but he’s had his fair share of relationships. He’s not shy, but he’s also not outgoing. He has an abundance of friends but only a few are ones he trusts. 

And the girlfriends he had were great but… no one really appreciates his generosity as much as he’d like.

He thinks he’s crazy at this moment, quite frankly, because he doesn’t believe in love at first sight. It’s this theory and idea that writers of a romance genre film and story that people whipped up together to make it seem more appealing to their audiences. But he doesn’t actually think it’s true.

Or is it?

Hair up in a messy bun, there’s a swipe of flour that coats your one cheek, and a smile that dresses your face so beautifully. You’re in a simple outfit that’s a combination of a white tee and blue jeans with the shop’s apron on top, while running around to keep up with all the orders coming through. He has hearts brimming in his pupils and he can’t seem to stop the way his chest tightens the second he lays his eyes on you. Is this what love at first sight is?

Seokjin doesn’t only regret not changing the default ringtone of his alarm this morning. He also regrets not asking for your number.

When he reaches his office, he realizes he forgets to ask for cream and sugar at the bakery. The dark, warm liquid glides down his throat with some difficulty; the bitterness layering his tongue but the memory of you sparks sweetness from within. Who were you? He doesn’t even know you and you’re on his mind like crazy.

Now, Seokjin has seen How I Met Your Mother. He’s watched the nine seasons, totaling out to two-hundred and eight episodes, so needless to say, Seokjin knows what goes on in that show. And ironically, he hates Ted. The guy is a hopeless romantic that thinks every girl he has his eyes on is ‘the one.’ Seokjin refuses to become like Ted, and he would be caught dead replicating those same actions.

Then why the fuck is he caught up on a girl he’s seen once? 

The second time Seokjin comes by the bakery, it’s a hell of a lot less busy. In fact, it’s only three people that man the storefront, rather than the six that he saw the first time he stopped by. He has his fingers crossed behind his back as he waits in the queue patiently, hoping you’d be the one taking his order this time around.

Luck must be on his side because you’re greeting him with those pearly white teeth. “Good morning, nice to see you. What can I get for you today?”

Abort, abort! He can’t talk. He swears that his heart has found its way up into his throat, and he can’t get any words to come out.

You blink. Those gorgeous long lashes brush your cheeks so deftly, and it swells his heart that’s now lodged in the path of his airways. “Sir?”

Seokjin swallows. “Oh—yeah, sorry sorry. Uh, can I get a medium hot coffee? Cream and sugar, please. Forgot to mention that last time and I almost died from the bitterness.” Was that an appropriate comment to make? Did it make you laugh? Or were you offended that he just insulted your workplace’s coffee

He cheers in success on the inside when a soft chuckle escapes from your lips. “Aw, I’m sorry to hear. I guess we should have also done our part and asked if you wanted any. Did you want to order anything else?”

Ah. Was the conversation already ending? But it’s so soon! He barely held the dialogue for a couple seconds, and since he’s got your attention, he can’t let go now. Quickly, his eyes skim the menu and the display case full of baked goods. “Uh, what do you recommend?” He asks, gesturing to the sweets. 

You wave your hand for another coworker to take the next customer’s order. Walking over to the sweets, Seokjin trails over as well, observing your expression. You’ve got your brows furrowed, deep in thought with a quirk of the side of your lips, engrossed with the plentiful of options. “Do you like tarts?”

—

Seokjin is a regular now. 

Whenever the clock strikes 7:30AM, he’s already in his work attire, hair at its best, and has checked his face in the mirror for the fiftieth time. Then, he’s on route to the corner bakery.

He wants to look good before he meets you. Handsome guy for a pretty girl. It’s only right.

The bells at the front door of the shop ring loudly the moment he enters in, and immediately his ears are filled with that beautiful laugh of yours, but you’re not alone. It’s accompanied by someone else’s, a voice that doesn’t match any of your other coworkers and his jaw clenches at the thought. Who is this male that claims to be the purpose of your giggling with a mop he calls hair on the top of his head?

“Oh!” You beam, lifting up the cup of hot coffee in hand. “Seokjin! Come here, I have a new pastry for you to try, and your daily caffeinated beverage to pair it with. Plus, I want you to meet my friend.”

His name is Taehyung. The freaking guy looks like a model, strutting into the café like it’s his runway, and when his gaze meets Seokjin’s, it makes Seokjin feel small.

Seokjin likes you, if the amount of times he comes in a week is evidence for it. He doesn’t just do that either; he often stirs up a conversation, asks how your day is going so far, and even goes out of his way to remember small details so he can bring it up next time. But he can’t help but wonder—do you have a boyfriend? Are you being kind only because Seokjin is a customer? Or are you normally this sweet as those raspberry filled pastries you set him up with? 

And those questions are only emphasized when Taehyung smiles, extends his hands and offers Seokjin a firm shake. “I’m Taehyung.”

Seokjin’s entire work day has gone to shit. All he could think about was who Taehyung was and why you were so adamant about Seokjin meeting him. 

After taking the last bite of the delicious pastry you packed for him (free of charge, too), it hits him. 

If Seokjin liked you, he should just confess his feelings, no matter what the consequences. Instead of sitting here with his shoulders slouched, eating this treat you gave him with a pout upon his lips, he shouldn’t continue waiting around and feeling sorry for himself anymore. Why would he make himself suffer like this when there’s a way to end this vicious cycle? 

Seokjin concludes that he’s going to confess tonight. 

—

What Seokjin learns about you is that you are by far not close to his ideal dream girl. 

You’re the “milk first, cereal last” gal, and he believes you’re ass backwards. You like consistency, and your favorite ringtone is the sound of those stupid horns he has for alarms in the morning. You enjoy the first few hours of your day, basking in the routine that you’ve put together yourself, including the one that had recently involved seeing Seokjin’s face. 

And although you’re not his dream girl, you’ve become it.

“I like you,” He finally confesses, a bouquet of flowers in his hands that match the decor stickers plastered on the shop's windows. “Would you… go out with me?”

Seokjin isn’t here in the mornings like he normally is, opting that since this is definitely a change of pace, he might as well go all out. Maybe this will be different. Maybe he’ll be happier.

Stunned, your mouth drops open. You’re stuttering over your own words, practically malfunctioning like a machine. “Wha—Like—what? Like… you like me as in like… a woman? More than a friend? You want to take me out?”

“Uh,” Seokjin scratches behind his ear anxiously. Was his plan backfiring? “Yes? I… like you. As in, I come here in the mornings for coffee, yeah, but I mostly came to see you. I enjoy hearing your laugh, seeing your smiles, and listening to you talk about these pastries like they’re your world and I—“ He pauses, inhaling a sharp breath, “—then you introduced me to this really good looking guy named Taehyung and I didn’t know what my chances were with you anymore, so here I am. Confessing.”

You’re silent. Truthfully, Seokjin’s not feeling good about this. His palms are sweaty, his heart is racing, and you still haven’t said a word and he’s sure that over thirty seconds have already passed by.

“What—“ You start again, quickly stopping yourself with a shake of your head. “Thank god, really.”

The front of Seokjin’s brows dip in confusion. “I’m sorry?”

You laugh, combing your fingers through your loosened locks. “I’ve been trying to tell my coworkers that I had this stupid crush on you since you first came in. You’re such a great listener, you’re handsome, and fun to talk to. They think you’re too good to be true, so they thought you wanted to be my gay best friend. Hence… the Taehyung test.”

“The Taehyung test?” Seokjin reiterates. 

Chewing on your bottom lip, your eyes are swirls of apologies. “He’s cute, right? Either you’d get jealous that a guy like him has my attention and you like me, or you like him and you’re jealous that he’s making me laugh instead of you.”

Seokjin’s shoulders drop in relief. “So… does that mean you’ll go out with me?”

You smile softly. “Of course, Jin.”

He doesn’t think those mundane activities he identified before are boring anymore. No, not with you, they’re not. He doesn’t mind watching you pour milk instead of cereal first in the mornings because he’s glad he gets to be the one who pinches your side teasingly and call you a weirdo. He doesn’t hate the sound of the horns—okay, a lie, he hates it so much, but they’re bearable when you’re around since you don’t hesitate to shut it off the minute it rings, and immediately hop out the bed, without using the snooze button. Brushing his teeth is a delight, especially when he sees your toothbrush sitting in your own designated cup on your side of the sink.

Everyday is a continuous, recurring cycle. 

But Seokjin doesn’t mind those things if it’s done with you. 

#seokjin #seokjin x reader #bts #bts fanfic #jin x reader #jin fanfic #gyukultfics #jin