March 2024 : Madisons Recs

march 2024 : madison’s recs

march seemed like such a long month for me yet i feel like i did not achieve my tumble grind i promised you guys last month 😭 april will be my month for real! thank you again to all of these beautiful authors!! i kiss the ground you all walk on🙏

acotar

— azriel

simple needs @surielstea

shattered @azrielwingspan

when you need distraction to survive @mrs-azriel

in my eyes @prythianpages

another love @utterlyotterlyx

baby, mine @thisblogisaboutabook

ends of the earth @parkerslatte

a healers touch @bat-boys

shadows of the heart @highladyandromeda

your name on my body @imaginesmai

— eris vanserra

precious secret @writeroutoftime

pjo

— clarisse la rue

the fall of rome @ampitrit3

inescapable @ampitrit3

happy wife happy life @m0nsterqzzz

you belong with me @queer-little-demigod

— luke castellan

cowboy like me @sycamoregirlsworld

the wizarding world

— theodore nott

i miss you, i’m sorry @angelfic

don’t leave me…please @angelfic

til it’s gone @obsessedwithceleste

tgm

— bradley bradshaw

i will follow you into the dark @kyber-crystal

marvel

— frank castle

a house in nebraska 2 @frankcastlescumslut

divider credit @cafekitsune 💖

INFINITELY YOU

part three // spitfire

SUMMARY - In every universe, Peter Parker seems destined to fall in love with you. And, in every universe, he realizes it too late. When universes collide and two of them are granted a second chance at rectifying their biggest mistake, neither of them are willing to let the opportunity go to waste–even if you end up not being the person they thought you were.

WARNINGS - 18+, minors DNI

WORD COUNT - 4.5k

// masterlist // series masterlist // send me your thoughts // no way home fan fiction // rewrite

name key: tom!peter = peter // andrew!peter = parker // tobey!peter = pete

On the walk back from Peter Pan’s, it seemed as though Parker had managed to entirely escape the sputtering awkwardness that had ensnared him the night before. 

And, after countless city blocks of listening to him babble about absolutely everything and anything, you realized that there was one very striking similarity between him and Peter. 

Both boys had a fervent interest in all things nerd. 

“New Hope takes place nearly two decades after the rise of the Galactic Empire, meaning that Leia is only nineteen when she's kidnapped and forced aboard the Death Star! Which is like, absolutely insane, right? Seriously! Imagine being nineteen years old and stuck inside of something that has the potential to obliterate an entire planet!” 

Shoving open the lobby door to your complex, Parker hardly even waits for you to hum your agreement before continuing his retelling of the Star Wars film. 

“And at the exact same time, Luke is finally beginning his Jedi training! Which, honestly, nineteen is actually super old for that, but-” 

Moving towards the stairs, Parker close on your heels, you cut him off with a question. “Too old? Nineteen is hardly even an adult,” you argue. “What age do most Jedi start training?” 

“About four or five, so obviously Luke was way behind,” 

Not even a full three stairs up, you come to a grinding halt, leaving Parker to bump into your back. “Four?!” You cry out, wide-eyed as you spin around to face him. “That’s insane!” 

Parker only lifts his shoulders, clearly not understanding the reason for your horror. 

Furthering your point, you add, “There’s nothing ethical about taking a bunch of little kids and training them to be weird, intergalactic warriors!” 

“It’s the best way to train them!” He lifts his hand defensively, explaining, “The earlier they start training, the less likely it is that the kids will have formed an attachment to their families! That way they learn to act out of logic instead of emotion!” 

For a heartbeat, you’re rendered entirely speechless by the absurdity of his claim, left to stand with your mouth agape as you blink at him. 

“That sounds like emotional abuse,” you finally huff, shaking your head. “Actually, scratch that—it doesn’t sound like emotional abuse, it just is!” 

“It’s not abuse-” 

You hold a hand up, stopping him before he can say anything else. “Give me one good reason why a group of adults should withhold love and affection from children if they aren’t abusing them.” 

“Uh, how about the fact that love is basically what made Anakin turn to the dark side!” Parker scoffs, clearly unwilling to recognize how insane the notion he was pushing actually is. 

“Or maybe Anakin turned to the dark side because he was indoctrinated and traumatized by some stupid space cult!” 

The expression on his face is downright laughable. 

It was as if you had just reached out and slapped him across the face. His jaw went slack, his mouth hung open in blatant offense. As a sputtering noise falls from his lips, trying and failing to come up with a good rebuttal, you smirk. 

“Exactly,” you boast, taking his inability to speak as a sign of victory. 

Twirling on your heel, you continue up the stairs, nearly all the way to the top before you finally hear him come stomping up behind you. 

“The Jedi Order is not a cult!” He finally shouts after you. 

Already traipsing through the hallway, fiddling with your keys, you sing-song, “Whatever you say, bug-boy.” 

Reluctant to admit defeat, Parker continues grumbling under his breath as you unlock the door, spouting something off about your lack of respect for George Lucas. 

“Look,” you tell him, pushing the door open, “if liking Star Wars matters this much to you, then I’ll gladly watch them with you.” A wry smile plays on your lips as you turn to look at him, standing in the doorway, “Maybe watching them will be enough to change my opinion on turning kids into galactic slaves.” 

Eyes narrowing in a playful glare, he’s only able to hold the expression for less than a few seconds before a laugh causes him to break character. “I just can’t believe that Peter hasn’t made you watch them already,” he admits. “I had you watch them so much that you could probably recite the scripts from memory alone!” 

His amusement dies off as soon as he finishes the sentence. Despite having been the one to bring it up, the mention of his world seems to cast a sullen shadow over him, ruining his sweet, boyish smile. 

Curiosity instantly claws at you, begging you to ask him why his world seemed to have such a negative effect on him. Or, rather, why his version of you seemed to have such an effect. 

This had happened last night too, when you had asked him if the two of you were friends in his world—and it was because of this that you assume that you’re somehow the common denominator in his discomfort. 

Still, you don’t let yourself ask him about it. For as much as you’re starting to like Parker, you don’t know him nearly well enough to try prying into his life. 

Not yet, at least. 

“Well, you’re more than welcome to force me into sitting through them in this world, too.” You tell him sweetly, sweeping an arm out to gesture inside of your apartment, inviting him. “It’s not like I’ve got any plans for the rest of the day.” 

You couldn’t even remember the last time you did have plans. Life had been so quiet since that last night with Peter and Mj—the night when everything went so horribly wrong. 

Parker sucks in a breath through his teeth, a hand coming to rest against the back of his neck. “I should probably get back out on the streets,” he reluctantly says, sounding more like he was convincing himself of that than you. “But, I don’t know, maybe we can take a rain check on it, yeah?” 

Disappointment washes over you, sudden enough that you’re sure it shines through on your face. It takes a shocking amount of willpower to stop yourself from trying to persuade him to stay, wanting to remind him that two other Spider-Men were already running themselves ragged in pursuit of the villains—so why did he have to go, too? 

You had grown used to his constant talking, having found solace in the chatter that kept you from slipping too far into your own thoughts. Selfishly, you wanted him to stay so that you wouldn’t have to be alone; so that you wouldn’t have to risk thinking too long about Doctor Strange or the multiverse or constants or Peter. 

The thought of admitting any of that out loud, however, felt incredibly humiliating. 

“For sure,” you force a smile, trying to ignore the many thoughts swirling in your mind. Then, eyeing the slightly too-tight Ramones shirt that he’d stolen from you, you add, “But shouldn’t you at least come in and change?” 

His nose wrinkles slightly as he shakes his head. “Nah—I think this city has more than enough spider-people swinging around it right now. I figure we might actually benefit from one of us patrolling on the ground-level, y’know? Maybe I can ask around for any giant lizards or blown light bulbs.” 

It’s hard to tell if the last bit is meant to be a joke or not, but you laugh anyway if only to avoid knowing why you should be worried about lizards and light bulbs. 

“Sounds like a plan,” you second his idea. “Well, I guess I’ll see you later then?” 

A surprising sense of joy lights his eyes at the sound of your hesitance, unfitting of the simplicity of the moment, but charming nonetheless. He grins—a wide and endearing sort of grin—as he takes a step back, “I won’t be gone long,” he promises before reminding you, “lock the door behind you, alright? And if you need anything-” 

He pauses, patting the pockets of his jeans only to remember that he didn’t bring a phone with him to this universe—and that, even if he did, there likely wasn’t a wireless plan good enough to support multiversal travel. 

“If you need anything, call 911.” 

“Got it,” you laugh, watching as he stumbles backwards towards the stairwell, cheeks red with faint embarrassment. 

Turning to go inside, you can’t ignore the warmth that now blooms in your chest. 

You could definitely get used to having him around. 

A peculiar sensation prickles at your skin, curling along your spine like icy fingertips. 

Something was wrong. Very wrong. 

The usually comfortable atmosphere of your apartment had shifted. An eerie tension fills the space, a near-suffocating feeling that has the very walls holding their breath, humming a tune of warning as you inch further into the living room. 

Your stomach twists as the sharp tang of exhaust fumes fills your nostrils. By the couch, a faint breeze rustles the curtains of a window, wafting in the nauseating scent of the city street below—a window that hadn’t been open when you left earlier. 

A mere foot or so away, you notice that the picture frame Parker had been fiddling with before is now lying on its face, having been knocked off the end table and abandoned. Atop the table, you notice that the lamp is sitting askew, its base just inches from tumbling over the edge and joining the frame. 

Someone had come in through your window—and it didn’t appear as though stealth had been very important to them, given that they had clearly stumbled into the table upon their entrance. 

Adrenaline floods your senses, your spine stiffening as you take a series of slow, quiet steps. 

Moving towards the corner, you carefully reach out a hand to grab the metal bat propped against the wall. The bat had been an unlikely housewarming present from when you first moved in, given to you by Peter’s mentor and your own reluctant renegade, Tony Stark. For nearly two years now it had sat in this corner, unused and gathering dust—until now. 

You wrap your fingers tightly around the base, wincing slightly as the rubber grip pulls at the still-healing flesh on your palm, making you curse yourself for not properly bandaging the wound last night. 

But you’re used to pain—and so you’re easily able to bite back against it as you ease through the living room, checking for any sign of the intruder's presence. 

As you walk, gripping the bat like your life depends on it, you can’t help but hear Tony Stark’s voice echo in your mind. 

If you’re gonna live alone, then you should have some sort of protection—he had told you, gently placing the cool steel into your hands for the first time, a ribbon tied sloppily around it—not that you need it. 

Satisfied with your search of the living room, you start easing towards the hall. You’re good at sneaking around, having had a lot of practice at it—every movement you make is calculated, every footfall so purposefully gentle that it’s nearly silent. 

Quiet as you were, you could do nothing to ease the sound of your blood thrumming wildly in your own ears, your heart pounding against your chest. 

The incessant beating worries you—because you know that there are people in the world with the unnatural ability to hear such things. Peter, even with his enhanced hearing, had to be close to someone in order to hear something as soft as their heartbeat; but you had heard rumors that there were others who could hear a pulse from miles away, others like the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen. 

The thought makes your blood run cold, though you try to push the worries from your mind. From what you know, the Devil doesn’t have a habit of breaking into apartments, nor was Queen's his usual jurisdiction. 

No—what you were dealing with had to be no more than an average burglar! 

An average burglar who, somehow, scaled up the side of a building to break into your apartment… 

Alright—you think, approaching the end of the hall—perhaps it’s a not-so-average burglar, then! Still better than the Devil. 

Peeling one hand from the bat’s handle, you curl your fingers around the doorknob to the guest room, Parker’s room. You ease the door open slowly, trying to keep the old hinges from crying out as you peer into the space. 

The sweet scent of vanilla is the first thing that hits you, contrasted by the subtle bite of vetiver. 

Parker—the room smells of him, even though he had only been here for one night. 

On the bed, the quilt is rumpled and thrown about, pillows strewn about. The doors of the armoire are wide open, a few old shirts hanging over the edge of one of the shelves, no doubt from when he went digging through your clothes in search of something to wear. 

The room was messy, but empty. 

Your shoulders sag, half-a-breath loosing from your lungs. The relief is short-lived, however; as by the time you edge back into the hall to turn towards your own door, you’re overwhelmed with dread. 

If whoever broke in was still here, then this was the only place they could be—save for the bathroom, though you seriously doubt any burglar would have much interest in scouring through your toiletries… 

Easily, gracefully, you twist the knob, the metal yielding quietly to your careful touch. 

The curtains are tightly drawn, eradicating any trace of sunlight and leaving the room cloaked in shadows. But, even in the darkness, you’re able to see the rough outline of a figure sprawled out across your mattress. 

For a split second, you think of Parker’s advice to call 911, the weight of your phone suddenly heavy in your back pocket. 

You think of how you should follow that advice. 

You think about how fast you could run—if you would be able to reach the front door before they could catch up to you. 

But then you stop thinking, disregarding all logic and reason as you take a step into the room, as if drawn in by some invisible force. 

Remaining mindful of your surroundings, you slowly approach the edge of the bed. Squinting in the darkness, you try to study the body laid out atop your comforter. Watching the steady rise-and-fall of their chest, it suddenly hits you that, whoever they are, they’re asleep. 

Slinking around the corner and coming to stand at your bedside, you’re finally close enough that you can see them in spite of the absence of light. Crimson and blue spandex clings tightly to their arms as they cling one of your pillows to their chest, and you feel your entire body sag with relief as you loosen your grip on the bat. 

So this must be Peter 2. 

The fabric of his mask is bunched up and resting along the bridge of his nose, which is somewhat smushed against the pillow he’s holding, no doubt leaving him to breathe in the scent of laundry detergent and your perfume. 

Lower, you can make out the subtle contours of his jawline and the curve of soft, pink lips. Higher, you’re met with the impassive stare of then white lenses sewn into his mask. 

The lenses shield his eyes from your view, and a curious feeling begins to tug at the furthest corners of your mind. Take it off—it seems to whisper, compelling you to move in closer, your shins pressing against the side of the mattress—take it off. 

You grit your teeth and try to ignore the feeling, try to ignore the velvet-voice slithering through your mind; begging you to look at him, to touch him, to notice him, to-

Pain shoots along the side of your temple, likely in response to the sudden tightness in your jaw. It distracts you enough that you’re able to shake the strange feeling long enough to regain your focus—even if the remnants of it still linger. 

You shouldn’t be interested in him—you should be pissed at him. 

Not only had he broken into your house, which was already bad enough, but he had also climbed into your bed and made himself cozy! The absolute gall, the audacity he must have, has you allowing the tiniest sliver of rage to ignite inside of you. 

Both hands still gripping the bat, you lower it from where it rests against your shoulder to swiftly jab its head into his stomach. 

A cough sputters past his lips as the impact pushes the air from his lungs. 

You’re actually shocked that you landed the blow—in truth, you had expected his spider-sense to kick in and detect the incoming hit, waking him with just enough time to dodge the shot. But, apparently, his instincts had made the mistake of assuming that you were of no threat to him. 

“Morning sunshine,” you chime, your feigned cheerfulness set off by a sneer. 

He’s scrambling into an upright position, knees sinking into the mattress as he presses a hand against the sore spot you’d created on his stomach. “What the fu-” 

His voice is hoarse—from sleep or pain, you’re not sure—and he doesn’t finish the curse spewing from his mouth once his head shoots up towards you, as if finally registering the sound of your voice. 

“I don’t know what things are like in your world,” you muse, swinging your bat back to rest against your shoulder, “but in this one, breaking and entering is considered a crime.” 

He’s still catching his breath, and while those damn white lenses covering his eyes give so little emotion away, you assume that he’s going to apologize. It’s what Peter would do, and Parker, too. 

But not him. 

“Your friends said I could stay here,” he defends himself. Taking another deep breath and extinguishing the burning in his lungs, the lower-half of his face transforms into a defiant smirk. “It’s not breaking and entering if you were invited.” 

“And did they tell you to sleep in my bed, too?” You shoot back, brows rising in annoyance. “Word of advice: next time you’re invited to stay in a total stranger’s house, maybe try not to repay their kindness by crawling through their window.” 

He mocks you without missing a beat, “Word of advice: you live in a shitty neighborhood—if you don’t want people coming through your windows, you should try locking them.” 

“Ah, right! Cause the average person is definitely willing to scale the side of a building for the prospect of an unlocked window!” 

“You’re a pretty girl in a dangerous city,” he drones, lifting a shoulder as he meets your sarcasm with purposeful calm. “You’d be surprised what people would be willing to do for a chance at getting you alone.” 

The insinuation sends a shiver down your spine, but you mask your unease, flashing a smile that’s more predatory than sweet. “Aw,” you coo, “so you think I’m pretty?” 

He returns the expression, skillfully avoiding your derisive question. “I think you’re irresponsible—and a little cocky.” 

“Better to be cocky than a felon,” you remark. “Just spare my neighbors the acrobatics show next time, would you? Maybe try knocking on the door like a normal person! Preferably when you’re not dressed like… that.” 

It’s not that his suit wasn’t nice, because it was. But it lacks the advanced Stark-tech that makes Peter’s suit so uniquely sleek, meaning that it was likely safe to assume that no one in this world would mistake this boy for the real Spider-Man. 

Unless they were to catch him scaling up the side of your building… 

“I tried knocking.” he sounds exasperated, as if you are testing his patience. “You weren’t home.” 

You snort a laugh, wondering if he truly believes that is all the reason he needs to break into someone's home. 

“Then you should’ve waited until I got home,” 

“I hadn’t slept in over twenty-four hours. I was too tired to wait.” 

“Then you should’ve slept in the alleyway with the rest of the strays,” you hiss at him, fingers tightening around the bat as your frustration builds. 

The sheer ferocity in your voice gives him pause, stunning him into silence. 

Then the corner of his mouth begins to twitch upwards, lazily grinning at you as if he actually enjoys the verbal onslaught. 

You can tell that he’s watching you through those white lenses, and his tongue darts over his bottom lip, you feel your breath catch in your throat. “Fine,” amusement dances in his tone as he raises his gloved hands, “fair enough.” 

For a moment, no sound comes from your parted lips, leaving you to stand there gaping at him until you remember how to speak. “Fair enough?” You echo, shaking your head slightly. “That’s all you’ve got? No apology?” 

He moves, forcing you to take a step back as he shoves his legs over the side of the bed and rises to his feet. He’s not as tall as Parker, but he still stands an inch or so higher than you, making it hard to not feel intimidated as he stares down at you, your own face staring back from the reflection of his lenses. 

“Better not push your luck, Spitfire,” 

He’s baiting you—he has to be! Using a stupid nickname to get under your skin, to try and prod further at your short temper. And it’s working—god, you hate how much it’s working!—because you find yourself contemplating putting his superhuman durability to the test by whacking him over the head with your bat. 

“By the way,” he says before you have a chance to act on your intrusive thoughts, pointing at your hands, “you’re bleeding.” 

As if his words switch a flip in your head, you’re suddenly aware of the acute throbbing in your palm. You loosen your grip on the bat, letting it clatter recklessly to the floor as you hold your hand out to examine it. 

Unsurprisingly, the rubber handle managed to tear open the barely-healed cut on your palm, courtesy of your too-tight grip on it. You hiss through your teeth, watching as blood oozed from the cut, dripping down towards your wrist. 

Slipping past you, the boy only half-manages to stifle his laugh. “You should probably take care of that.” 

He’s already slipping out into the hall by the time you regain enough awareness to follow after him, gritting your teeth against the pain. 

“And where do you think you’re going?” 

“To the other room,” he calls over his shoulder. Once he’s standing in front of Parker’s door, he spins back around to face you, his snarky expression still in-tact. “Where I’m hoping you won’t follow me.” 

Everything about him causes your blood to boil—his grating voice, his insolent attitude, his stupid soft lips. 

“Would it kill you to be nice to me?” You exclaim, your voice strained with pain as you try to wrap your hand in the lower half of your shirt. 

It takes no-time for blood to start seeping through the thin material, and you certainly don’t look intimidating like this—the lower half of your abdomen on display as you try to apply whatever pressure you can to the wound—but you don’t care. 

“I don’t have to let you and Parker stay in my house—I’m doing it because I’m nice, alright? And, so far, you’ve been nothing but a dick!” 

The thin fabric of his mask shifts, brows furrowing at the mention of Parker. Unlike Peter, however, he doesn’t bother commenting on the nickname. “Nice isn’t exactly the word I’d use to describe you. Especially since you’re the one calling me names.” 

The levity in his tone makes you want to scream—what was his deal?! 

You press harder against your bleeding palm, your breathing turning shallow. You’re not sure if it’s frustration or pain or what, but you feel like your head is spinning. “Look, I don’t know you, alright? But this? Isn’t gonna work,” you bark at him, chin lifted defiantly as you stare into his mask, unrelenting. “If you plan on staying in my house, then you’ll get your shit together—got it?” 

His head tilts, curiously watching as you continue your frantic speech. 

“No crawling in through my windows or sleeping in my bed or smarting shit off! And take off that stupid mask!” You huff, shaking your head. “Or, I don’t know, pull it down the rest of the way! Just do something because you look stupid like that!” 

The words are spewing from your mouth like a torrential downpour, fueled by the rage swirling in your stomach and the throbbing in your hand and—

He laughs, a genuine laugh that isn’t born of derision, and you feel your racing thoughts slow to a halt. “You should work on your insults,” reaching for the nape of his neck, he tugs his mask off. “Because that was pathetic.” 

It’s no longer just your thoughts that have slowed, but the entire world. Everything around you feels like it has come skidding to a stop—leaving you staring up at him like a dumbfounded idiot. 

He’s beautiful—a commonality among Peter’s variants, it seems. 

He’s smirking, an infuriatingly charming smirk that lets you know he has no intention of listening to your demands for him to silence his quick wit. But you’re not focusing on that—no, you’re focusing on the features that had been hidden from you this whole time; his dark hair, tousled from removing his mask, falls in a chaotic halo around his face, contrasting the vibrance of his eyes. 

His eyes. 

They leave you breathless, and you hate it. Colored with the deepest cerulean you’ve ever seen, his eyes feel like staring into the depths of a crystalline ocean. You can almost feel yourself getting swept up in their tides, feel them enveloping you in a feeling of familiarity, as if this wasn’t the first time you had been pulled into their ebbing waters. 

“Have we–” your mouth has gone dry, your voice cracking. “Have we met before?” 

It’s a ridiculous question, and you recognize that even as it’s spilling from your lips. You couldn’t have met him before—not when the two of you weren’t even from the same universe! 

He seems to be thinking the same thing, and you’re already preparing to take the full force of whatever smartass comment he’s about to fling at you. “I’ve met you,” he says simply, taking you by surprise. Then he inclines his head towards your still-bleeding hand, “You should patch yourself up before you stain the carpet.” 

You look down at your hand, at the hem of your shirt, soaked in blood. 

“But just so I know,” you look back up, his body half-turned towards the door, his fingers resting against the knob, “if Peter and Parker are already taken, then who does that make me?” 

You have to force yourself to take a breath. “What did I call you in your world?” He’s silent for a moment, staring at the floor and chewing on his lip. Then, pushing the door to Parker’s room—their room—open, he smiles.

“Pete.”

a/n - ayyy, pete's finally here! and, ofc, lots of other little important details sprinkled around as well.

also, i really wanna say thank you to everyone who has been reading and enjoying this story so far! it truly means the world to me to read all of the nice comments and to know that you guys are interested in this story! so, again, thank you 💖 as always, please comment/like/reblog and let me know if you wanna be added to the taglist!

part four, titled "blooms of subterfuge", to be released april 29th

can I get a fake text where reader texts Chan while she watches his live? 🥺

sorry this took so long to get to!! here you go 😌💕

Seeing Red 2

header edited by me (@chogiwapadada) do not remove the watermark and do not repost

pairing; lee jihoon (woozi) x f reader

genre; smut (minors dni), honestly it's filth

warnings; cam boy!woozi, sex on camera, impact play (with hands and a crop), dom & sub dynamics, use of the color system, sugar baby!woozi, sugar mama!reader, woozi called daddy, oral (m recieving), degradation, unprotected sex, hoshi is a little shit, i think that is all

word count; 3.2k and some change

svthub masterlist

a/n; part one -- since there was so much interest in a second part to camboy!woozi i wrote this little part. this will be also be linked to the seventeen peachybun-bun master list. continue supporting the svthub collab by checking out the other camboy!svt fics. this is the writers account for @chogiwapadada

[sugarwoo$i online] 

Woozi grins at you as he adjusts the red lace over your eyes as he holds his bottom lip between his teeth. Grunting out a sound of approval, he runs his fingers along your cheek before grabbing your chin pulling your face towards his letting his lips ghost over yours only to hear you let out a soft whine when he doesn’t kiss you. Leaning back he looks at your face as you glance up at him making him smirk into a smug quiet laugh. 

“Such a needy little slut for me. You want me all the time don’t you?” Nodding you whisper out a yes before you watch Woozi raise a brow before he leans over to bring his hand down over your ass with a sharp slap making you gasp and arch your back. “Yes, I want you all the time.” Woozi grins at your confession as he runs his hand over his handprint. You had been naked since the show had started but he was still in his dress pants and briefs. The bulge of his cock pressing against the tan pants making your mouth water every time you dared to glance down. 

Sitting back on the bed Woozi glanced at his computer smirking at the comments as he absentmindedly ran his thumb along your lips before pressing it into your mouth giving you something to suck on which you do so willingly. Groaning softly, his brows furrowing as your tongue laps around his thumb Woozi grins and nods. “Our baby is pretty in red. No, I won’t take off her blindfold. She doesn’t want her face fully on the camera. Respect that.” 

You smile around his thumb as he tells the viewers no which only causes more tips to flood in as they whine but agree to his terms. You found it endearing when he specifically told them no when it came to your privacy. You enjoyed this little game, your identity right there in front of them but yet they had no idea. Though you had begun to worry that some of the more observant viewers might notice that every time Woozi had you in his show domino$ugar was always absent. 

Woozi moves his thumb from your mouth running it over your lips and down your chin as he smirks at you when the low light bounces off the trail of saliva making him scrunch up his brows and purse his lips in approval at the sight. “So fucking pretty.” He laughs when you suck on your bottom lip and he can barely see your eyes glance up to meet his. “Is your mouth too empty princess?” You nod and smile, “Yes.” 

Woozi raises a brow and moves to one knee reaching to adjust the new camera you had gotten for him making sure everything was still in view before looking back at you. “Come here” Moving to your knees you crawl towards Woozi making him suck in a breath as he pulls his belt open and lets it hang freely. His hands moving to undo his pants slowly knowing you are watching his every move along with the viewers. “Read the comments to me.” 

You bite your lip and nod, this was something he had started having you do recently. The viewers had commented on enjoying your voice and hearing you say their dirty thoughts out loud to Woozi. Sliding your hand out to the laptop you pull it closer before glancing between it and Woozi’s hands as he palms his cock through his open pants over his tight briefs. “Read them. Don’t get distracted.” 

Clearing your throat you nod again and lick your lips before scanning the comments seeing the tips finding them less than adequate but you knew not everyone could spoil Woozi the way he deserved. At least there were viewers who were incredibly loyal to him and you had to respect them for always coming back and always tipping even in small amounts. “cutie4woo says that they wish they could run their tongue along your stomach down to your cock.” 

Woozi chuckles and raises a brow, nodding once before sliding his hand into his briefs moving them below his cock so you and the camera could now see him. “I bet they do. Would you join them, baby girl?” You nod and rub your thighs together as you shift glancing up at Woozi as he speaks to you. “Yes I would.” Woozi glances back at the laptop signaling for you to keep reading. 

“Um, kissme$lowy tipped you $100 and said that they would let you use them however you want, they want to be your personal toy.” The sound of a large tip hits drawing Woozi’s attention, raising his brows he turns the laptop slightly so he can see it along with you scoffing when he sees domino$ugar has donated $1500. “Thank you Domino. Always so…generous.” Woozi’s eyes fall on you skeptically as you hold back a small smirk before he pushes the laptop away before reaching for you. 

“Let’s not disappoint Domino. She wants a good show.” Woozi’s hand in your hair he tugs you forward gently guiding you towards his cock as he holds himself with his free hand. “Tongue out.” You do as you are asked, your tongue rolling from your mouth as you look up at Woozi making him groan before he taps his head on your tongue and slides into your waiting mouth. 

Closing your eyes you let him control your head and how far he slides his cock into your mouth only hollowing your cheeks when you feel that you can’t take anymore just yet. “Fuck…just like that.” Woozi fights his urge to move your hair from your eyes and his urge to pull it into a ponytail so he can hold your hair tightly. He wanted to fuck you like no one was watching but he kept himself in check as he felt your hand wrap around the base of his cock. “You wanna have some control?” 

You moan around his shaft making Woozi grunt as he lets you start to control the pace and do what you want to him for the time being. You had proven to him more than once that you knew exactly what you were doing when it came to giving him head so he was not going to complain if you wanted to take the reins even if it meant giving up control in front of his viewers. 

Glancing at the screen Woozi can’t help but laugh into an aroused groan at the sight he knows everyone is seeing. Your naked form in front of him, a peek of red lace on your face, his cock buried in your mouth, him still half dressed. It was enough to make him feel like he was going to lose it right there but he kept himself calm running a hand over his mouth as he glanced at the comments as your free hand moved to hold his thigh. 

“She’s so fucking good at this. I could cum down her throat right now if I didn’t have more control over myself.” You moan around Woozi at his words making him buck into your mouth causing you to gag slightly which only causes a chain reaction of him throwing his head back. “You all have no idea how hard this is. Oh trust me, if I could let you all suck my dick I would. I think she would share. She’s not a jealous woman.” 

Another large tip hits and Woozi scoffs leaning to run his hand over your back before gripping your ass hard. You close your eyes tightly pausing to only hold his cock in your mouth knowing what is coming when you feel his hand come down hard on your skin. A lewd moan falls from your lips muffled by his length making Woozi grin as he speaks through his teeth with a hiss. “Thank you again Domino. Always spoiling me. 

You pull back to run your tongue around Woozi’s head, your hand moving along his wet shaft as he looks down at you with that same skeptical look. You can’t help but smile, making him curse under his lips before he pulls back from you. Sucking on your lips you moan to the pre-cum still lingering there as Woozi pushes his pants and briefs down stepping out of them before moving to the nightstand to take out a dark red crop whip. 

“Remember this?” You nod and mutter out a yes, causing Woozi to tilt his head before he smacks his hand with it lightly. “Lay on your stomach. Ass to the camera. Hands together at your head and from now on when you answer me do it properly.” You move into the position he wants you in, your hands laced together at your head as you rest your cheek on the bed. You feel his fingers run over your calf down to your ankle as he pulls one over the other. 

“That’s better. What color are you right now?” You glance over your shoulder and lick your lips before nodding and speaking up, “Green.” Woozi nods and as you lay your head back down you can feel him run the crop between your thighs before he taps it against your leg right under your ass. “Good, so if I ask you again if you remember this? What do you say?” You hear tips flood in as you let out a small gasp. 

“Yes I remember it.” Woozi smacks your leg again making you moan. “I said, to answer me properly. Try again.” You rock your hips lightly as Woozi runs the crop between your legs against your slit as he watches you closely. “I remember it, Daddy.” Hearing the name he had told you that you could call him, Woozi chuckles and bites at his bottom lip as he presses the crop between your folds teasing you. 

“There we go. That’s my good girl, remembering who she is talking to. How many do you think Domino would like to see you get?” You sigh softly moving to bite at your arm lightly knowing this was going to be an interesting conversation after the show. “You know what, never mind, let me just ask her. Domino, how many does our baby deserve? Don’t you go easy on her.” 

You wait in silence until you hear Woozi laugh before he sighs softly. The crop moves over your inner thighs before running over your ass in small circles. “She says 5. I still think that’s too few for the amount of money she’s donated but...I also can’t wait to fuck you so…” You let out a small yelp not expecting the first time the crop hits your ass. Woozi pauses and leans to press a kiss to your shoulder before leaning to speak into your ear. “Color?” You take a breath and moan out green making him smile before he kisses your ear. 

“4 more, princess.” You are ready for the next one which causes you to arch your back slightly. You can feel your arousal running from between your folds with how overwhelmed Woozi has you. The next smack of the crop causes you to moan on to your arm as you struggle to keep your legs crossed. “Does it feel good? Your ass is so pretty and red. Do you want me to take a picture for you when I’m done?” 

You nod and whine out, “yes please, Daddy.” Woozi bites at his cheek to suppress a groan as he smacks the crop down two more times before laying it to the side. He fights the urge to lean in and kiss over the red marks immediately instead moving to pick up this phone to take a picture of your ass so you can see his work. He smirks and opts to take another pushing your thighs slightly apart to show you just how wet you are before he tosses his phone on to the bed and then leans down to press a kiss to each of your cheeks. “So fucking pretty. Color baby girl?” 

“Green, please daddy.” He nods on your skin as he kisses your hip and then up your back as he leans over you moving his hand between the two of you to pull your hips up slightly before lining himself up and slowly pushing into you. “Keep your legs crossed.” You moan out a yes not even feeling him reach for a pillow before he is putting it under your stomach to keep your hips up as he begins to thrust into you hard and fast from behind. 

One of Woozi’s hands holds your hip tightly as he groans trying to hold back wanting to get you to your orgasm first though he was already so close. His other hand moves to slide towards your shoulder tapping your arm signaling for your hand. Unlacing your hand you put your hand behind your back letting him hold it over your lower back. “Shit…” You whine hearing him curse knowing he was close but he could feel you clenching even harder around him especially in his position. Every thrust sent you into the mattress and made it hard to think as you felt the pressure building. 

“I– Woozi, daddy…” He nods not worrying about you messing up as he knows what you want thrusting hard making you cry out when he shifts just slightly somehow hitting your g-spot almost perfectly with a few quick thrusts sending you over the edge. His eyes closed tightly Woozi groans as he bites into his lips almost so hard he tastes copper when he cums into you feeling your walls quivering around him milking him for every last drop. He only stops snapping his hips towards yours when he hears you let out a small whine as you come down from your high. 

“I know…I know.” You feel his hand slide from yours letting you drop it to the mattress as his other hand moves to the mattress next to your hip as he stays inside you for a moment before thrusting once more before slowly sliding out with a grunt. You feel him carefully move your legs apart before hearing him let out a groan as you know cum is seeping from your pussy for the camera to see. 

Woozi smirks glancing at the comments and nods before moving his fingers between your folds over your clit making you jump with a moan before he pushes some of his cum back into you fucking you with his fingers slowly. “She did well. She likes to make me happy.” You hear him laugh before his fingers curl up into you before pulling back as he moves around to sit on the bed offering his cum covered fingers to you. 

“They want to see you lick them clean.” You laugh and take his hand into yours before leaning to suck his fingers clean before licking around his fingers only to suck them into your mouth once more before letting go with a loud pop. Woozi grins and shakes his head before groaning. “Perfect…” You watch as he moves from the bed picking up his briefs to pull them on as he sits in front of the camera to close the show telling the viewers to be good for him before turning it off and closing his laptop. 

“Y/N…” You make a tired sound of acknowledgement before turning over on your back pushing the blindfold off your eyes with a soft groan not wanting to move. “Who the fuck has your account and is tipping?” You smile as Jihoon looks at you with a raised brow as he moves to stand and starts to clean up letting you rest. “I have a friend doing it…they aren’t watching, just listening and tipping. I thought people would get suspicious and start putting two and two together if I was never there when I was here.” 

Jihoon purses his lips in thought and then nods before moving into his bathroom. You hear the sound of the shower turning on before he comes back reaching out a hand for you. “Time for a shower.” Whining you pout at him and he raises a brow before leaning to pat your cheek playfully as his phone goes off letting him know he has a text. “Don’t complain. We are sweaty and covered in cum. These are new sheets and I already have to change them” 

You watch him pick up his phone groaning as he sees the text only for the phone to start ringing.Jihoon sighs annoyed before answering the phone as he looks at you, the voice on the other side not quiet loud enough for you to make out as the bed dips when Jihoon sits next to you. . 

“What do you want Soonyong? I’m busy.” The man on the other end laughs and you watch Jihoon grimace before he takes the phone from his ear and puts it on speakerphone. “Don’t make me regret this. Y/N…this is Soonyoung or Hoshi the one I told you about. The one I said you’d never meet.” You laugh softly and hear the man on the other end groan slightly into a laugh when he hears your voice. 

“God you even sound hot. I caught like half the show. I never watch Jihoon’s shows. I don’t want to see his dick but holy fuck I might have to watch if you are going to be with him. You are like a goddess. Seriously, did he tell you that I will also be your sugar baby? I told him to tell you that.” You laugh again and Jihoon starts panicking at Soonyoung’s words trying to cut him off as he turns off speakerphone and moves from the bed pacing.

“What the fuck is your problem? That is why you wanted to talk to her? You are not fucking her. No…not even no!” Jihoon looks at you and groans, shaking his head. “No, not even for a show! I don’t do threesomes, Soonyoung. I’m the only one with a dick on the screen. No, good bye. No fuck you, good bye.” 

Laughing still you watch Jihoon throw his phone back on the bed with a loud groan before he runs his hand through his hair. “I’m sorry about that. I didn’t know what he wanted and I should have expected something stupid.” You smile and reach out a hand for him as he moves closer. Jihoon sighs again and bites his lip as he looks down at you, the room becoming slightly steamed up from the steam rolling in from the bathroom as he pulls you to your feet. 

“It’s okay. I’m sure he’s harmless.” You move with Jihoon towards the bathroom as he mutters to himself before you speak again, “But I’m not against threesomes. Is he hot?” You yelp as Jihoon’s hand smacks against your ass and he growls playfully pushing you against the wall next to the shower before his lips are on yours. “Such a needy little slut. Do you need to be fuck again that badly?” 

You laugh against his lips as his hand grips at your side as his lips work over your jaw to your neck sucking what you know will be dark marks before he moves you into the shower. “If I say yes, will you?” Jihoon laughs against your shoulder as he turns to close the shower door shaking his head muttering that you are insatiable.

[sugarwoo$i offline] 

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© onlymingyus - all rights reserved. Reposting/modifying of any fic, or pieces of original writings posted on this blog is not allowed. Translations not allowed.  

Hello🫣🫣, can you do a piwon reaction to you asking them to pick out your nail design? Maybe with inspo pics too?🥺🥺

p1harmony picks your nail set!

pairings: p1harmony x reader

warnings: suggestive (just jiung)

a/n: hii!! i hope u enjoy!! my imessage is being weird so i was originally gonna do fake texts but .. that didn’t work so this is plan b! enjoy!!

° . ❀ keeho

he adores the fact that you are never without a new nail set, and is always secretly hoping that one day you’ll ask him what your next set should be, so when you do, he’s super excited! definitely turns it into a very serious task, pulls up pinterest and makes an entire collaborative board with you so you two can look through different options. he’s really into airbrushed aura nails he saw, and you two settle on those! likes the minimalistic design with the almond shape, and takes you to your appointment (and pays too!!) just because he’s so excited that his input mattered to you. def posts a picture of your hands interlocked on his insta story right after your nails are complete :3

° . ❀ theo

i think theo would be a little lost on what exactly you would like, so he would ask you to show him a few examples of what you’re looking for! but it definitely boosts his ego that you asked him for his opinion, even if he doesn’t know much about nail trends. prefers shorter nails with cute designs, so he really pushes for little strawberry nails! thinks you’ll look so cute with them, asks you to send him pictures as soon as they are done <3 shows off the photos to the rest of the boys, bragging that your design was his choice (they literally could not care less). when he sees them in person, he definitely examines them and kisses each one of your fingers! wants to be the only person choosing your sets from now on!!

° . ❀ jiung

a self-proclaimed nail expert himself, jiung is very excited for the opportunity to choose your new nail design! he’s so cute, he already has a bunch of ideas that he didn’t even need to search up… i think he would love seeing you in baby pink though, so baby pink sparkly french tips with a glitter outline is what he chooses! you are a bit hesitant about the size and square shape, but he sheepishly tells you he likes when you scratch his back and it inflates his ego when the marks stay etched on his skin for the remainder of the week :p since ji loves nail polish, i think he would match with you!! picks out some baby pink nail polish and glitter that matches your nails and is so so excited to surprise you with them :DD in the future, he continues to coordinate his nail colors with your sets

° . ❀ intak

he 100% would get so cheesed if you asked him to help you, makes him feel like you want to carry a piece of him wherever you go. i think he would love cool designs with stars and silver accents, and since his main killin’ it outfit is red, he asks if you could pretty please get red stars with silver french tips. like kyo, he clears his schedule to go with you. i can totally see him sitting in the empty chair next to you and asking a bunch of questions during the process which would no doubt annoy your nail tech lol.. but it’s cute that he’s so invested!! definitely takes selfies in his killin’ it promo outfit with your hands all over his face and neck :p

° . ❀ soul

lovessss cute little characters, so i think he would give you a lot of free reign on the design and shape itself, but would just want little characters on them. when you show him a bunch of ideas with characters from domo to korilakkuma, he gets very indecisive and keeps changing his mind, but he eventually decides on pastel rilakkuma nails!! is so giggly when you show him, spends forever looking them over and commenting on how cute they are :( from now on, you always surprise him with sets that are always adorned with a silly character he adores <3

° . ❀ jongseob

i think seob would really like beachy nails! think yamanba gyaru but more minimal, with bright colors and silly little plumeria flowers. tells you he doesn’t mind anything but would love if you tried longer almond nails, because he always loves when you scratch his head at night hehe .. he’s another member that would take you to the salon himself and pay for you (just like in my fic jasmine!!) and wouldn’t let you argue with him. is just honestly very happy to spend any time with you at all so he’s so excited to take you to get your nails done, and even more excited that he’ll be getting those head scratches he loves so much !!

inspo in order: keeho, theo, jiung, intak, soul, jongseob

tags: @woozixo @hearts4chanhee @kyokopi @astro-doll-the-star @soobiary @kyaaramello @t3ssamoodboard @angelcbf @idontknow-1s-world @vivienne-sim @elissasimp @imjustayapper @ihatewreckingballmains @sosaverse @seobing @www90kitsch @khfviq @barbiekh86t @bbyjjunie @taeyangi @fullsunstrawberry @jihnyah @intheemptymirror @watamotee33 @dreamer1299 @jixnnsie @wonootnoot @yukx-x047

© kisseobie, please do not repost my writing!

❤︎ ིུ͠*:·

the bond between a girl and their favorite fictional man is both an unstoppable force and an immovable object