#He just won't fucking leave even when he is not there

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

you shouldn't be (down here with me)

Pairing: Jack Abbot x Reader

Rating: M (for mature, nonsexual content)

Notes: This popped into my head this morning and wouldn't leave me alone so here you go; not beta read.

Warnings: Reader has suicidal thoughts; reader has a breakdown; Jack Abbot's A+ Coping Skills; Jack Abbot's insistence in eye contact; canon-typical medical chat; bed sharing

Summary: When you're almost shot at work, your body snaps into autopilot as your mind goes into overdrive. Jack has always recognized parts of himself in you—he knows a mind teetering on the edge when he sees one.

I was gonna let him do it

"Another four of dilauded."

I was gonna let him do it

Your movements are automatic. You can feel the nervy glances thrown to you every few seconds. You know they're all waiting for you to crack, to say that you need a minute, to sub in for you so you can rip off your PPE, run to the bathroom, lose it.

I was gonna let him do it

You can't blame them—you had a gun pointed at your head half an hour ago. They don't know that you'd almost been resigned to it in that moment.

I was gonna let him do it

"Call surgery, let them know he's stabilized."

You turn, pick the phone up, dial, pause, relay the message.

I was gonna let him do it

--

"You alright?" Ellis asks as you pull your bloody PPE off, tucking it into the in by the door. You shrug, nod, hold your hand out for the spray of purell from the wall-mounted dispenser as you head for central. You pointedly ignore North Two, where the man is being held as the cops talk to him.

"Doing okay, champ?" It's Shen this time, and his use of 'champ' garners him a sidelong glance and a raised brow. He takes your muted wrath in the spirit with which it's meant, holds both hands up in easement before he skirts around you to finish filling out a chart.

You stop at your computer, leaning over it logging and eyeing the results of a blood test on a case earlier in the shift. You feel someone stop beside you, figure that they'll move on their way, that they're waiting for someone to clear before they move again.

I was gonna let him do it

When the presence lingers, you don't have to look up to see who it is. You know that a simple nod will send him on his way for at least a few minutes, but you don't think you can look at him, not right now.

"Something I can do for you, Dr. Abbot?"

Your smart question is met with silence, and you pull in a deep breath through your nose. You brace yourself before you pull yourself up to your full height, meeting his eye.

You know immediately that it's a mistake.

Jack is looking at you the way he looks at a troubling case—discerning, dissecting; trying to pinpoint where the pain is, what fix he can apply, prescribe.

"You're not sending me home." It's meant as a request, but it comes out as a plea. You know that your firmness missed the mark when his head tips to the side, just a little. His eyes dart to North Two, hold there for a moment.

"Tell me what you need."

"To be here," You insist, "To work." To not think about it

A short nod, just enough to let you know that you're good to get back to your job. You bow back over your computer, expect Jack to leave. But—

"If you change your mind—"

"I won't." You're too tired to be embarrassed by the fact that you answered too fast. And as Abbot turns away, you just catch on his sigh, his mutter of, "No, you won't."

--

When his hand lands on your lower back on your way out of the ER, you figure he's just keeping you moving—maybe to sop you from turning around and making this shift a double, or to help you avoid the couple of news vans and reporters that have pulled up.

You let him steer, even as that steady pressure keeps up for block after block. You don't even realize where you are until Abbot stops, fishes into his pocket for a set of keys. You look up at the unfamiliar door, mind racing as Abbot unlocks it. He turns to you, holds it open, waits.

You should tell him off. What the fuck was he thinking, bringing you back to his place like some stray puppy? Never mind the fact that this man is your boss, that this is wholly inappropriate.

You should go back to your apartment, shower, get into bed. Maybe schedule an emergency appointment with your therapist.

But you also know that you probably shouldn't be alone right now. Your apartment will be too quiet; your head will be too loud. That was half the reason you'd insisted on staying at work. You glance down the block, consider, then slide past him and step inside.

--

You take your time looking around—eyeing the books, the mail, the photos, the knick knacks—the little things that make somewhere home. You turn back to Jack just in time to see hm changing his shoes, putting a high-backed house shoe on where his boot usually covers his prosthetic.

Neither of you speak as you put your bag down and he takes your jacket. He disappears down the hall of the apartment, returns with a stack of fabric. You take it, cataloguing a towel, a washcloth, a pair of sweatpants, a shirt.

"First door on the left. Put your clothes in the hamper in there, I'll wash 'em." He nods toward the hall. "Go on."

--

You expect yourself to break down the second the warm water hits your skin. But as you stand in the steam, the toll on your body takes precedent. Your head is pounding; your feet are throbbing; your back and neck ache.

I was gonna let him do it

You draw in a deep breath, bracing your hands on the wall to ground yourself.

I almost let him do it

Your jaw tightens, stomach churning as you think back.

Gun muzzles were always described as cold, but this one was warm—probably from being tucked against the man's body. You can still feel the weight, the press of it, the slight waver and brush as his hand had shook. You can hear the click of the safety.

Your mind had gone quiet in that moment.

You'd just leaned in, and told the man that he'd only be making your shift better.

It had been enough to shock the both of you.

It had caught him off-guard long enough for you to try and disarm him, to call for security as the the two of you had struggled, sending the gun skittering under the bed as the treatment bay filled with security, fellow residents. Ahmad had the guy in a headlock in seconds; Abbot was between you and them before you could blink. When he'd asked you what had happened, all you'd managed was to point toward the bed, to say, "Gun."

The cops had tried to give admitting shit for it, but you'd waved them off, insisted, "He didn't seem—When he came back, he wasn't like that. I was trying to assess him. I must've moved too fast, he freaked. They couldn't have known, they didn't do anything wrong, so don't—don't."

Shen had tried to talk you into going home; Ellis had bombarded you with questions. Abbot told them to back off. He hadn't asked you if you were alright; he hadn't tried to make you go home, either.

"Where are you going next?" He'd asked. You'd just nodded toward the board, answered, "Hyperkalemia, South Three," and gone on your way.

--

You can smell coffee when you step out of the bathroom. You glance back in, making sure you clothes are safely tucked into the hamper before heading back into the living room. Jack passes you on the way, hands you a tv remote, says, "Mugs are on the counter."

"Thanks."

You get yourself a cup of coffee, tuck yourself into the corner of his couch. You consider the remote for a moment before setting it on the coffee table.

I was gonna let him do it...Wasn't I?

Were you? What the hell would that have done to everyone around you? Were you so far gone that you hadn't thought about how it would effect everyone else in the department? What would the patients have done when they'd heard the pop? You know your fellow doctors would've come running—what if he hadn't stopped with you?

Your lower lip wobbles. Tears prickle at your eyes, and the well of panic and fear and resignation that you'd been waiting for spill over. You sit with the mug of coffee in your hands, letting go to swipe at tears and sniffle every few seconds.

You've calmed by the time Jack comes back out. You know that you look hellish; your burning eyes must be red-rimmed, bloodshot. He sits down on the other end of the couch, nods toward the tv.

"Nothin'?"

"Feel free," You croak. Jack huffs, picking up the remote and turning it on. You listen to the tv as he flips through a few channels. You glance between it and him a couple of times.

"You're not gonna try to get me to get some sleep?" You ask.

"Do you want to sleep?"

"God no."

"Okay," Jack gives a small shrug. "I can never turn it off right after a shift."

"...Huh."

"What?" He frowns, glancing toward you.

"Just uh...Implies that you're ever able to turn it off...At all."

A smile unwittingly pulls at your lips as Jack rolls his eyes, turning back to the tv. You lean back against the couch, scrubbing your hand across your eyes. The sounds of a baseball game make you pick your head up, brow furrowing as you squint at the tv.

"There's a game on a eight in the morning?"

"I recorded it."

Your mouth forms a small 'o' as you nod.

"We can watch something else," Jack adds.

"No. No, this is good."

--

You don't focus much on the game. Now and again, the tears flow, and you let them run quietly until they ebb. You dab them with your borrowed shirt sleeve.

Jack manages to wait until the seventh inning stretch before he asks:

"You talking to anyone?"

"I have a therapist."

"You speak to 'em regularly?"

"Mhm."

"They know about this?"

"About what?"

When he doesn't answer, you glance toward him. You expect open reproach, but Jack watches you with patience—and maybe a little pity. You push a sigh through your nose as you turn back to the tv.

"I talk to her about the day to day stuff, you know, not the...Grippy sock stuff."

"So you don't think about this every day."

"No."

Jack hums; you see him nod in your periphery.

"I had a bad day," You hurry to add, "We all have them."

"Not bad enough to tell someone threatening to shoot you that they're about to make your shift better."

Your head snaps to Jack, stunned—you'd omitted that from your report. But he just tips his head, shakes it again.

"I was one exam room over. I put two and two together when you pointed out the gun."

A lump forms in your throat as you burn with shame and embarrassment.

"I didn't—" It bursts out of you as the tears well again. "I wasn't—No one was supposed to know—"

Jack's across the couch in a second, pulling you into his chest as you sob. His hand curls around the back of your neck, thumb sweeping your nape as you shake against him. You feel his breath against your hair; you think you feel the pressure of a kiss, but it's gone as soon as you register it.

"C'mon." It's a soft urging as you slowly calm.

"Where 'm I going?" Your tongue feels heavy; your voice is thick from your crying.

"To get some sleep."

"I'll sleep here."

"You'll get better rest in a bed."

"I'm not taking your bed, Jack."

"You'll be more comfortable."

"I don't care. They need you in working at the Pitt."

Jack's hand slides around your neck to gently grasp your chin, forcing you to look at him.

"We need you, too." His hold on you stays firm as you try to look away, bu he won't let you. He gives a small nod, searching your eyes. "I need you. Okay?"

You muster a small, short nod, sniffling.

"I'm still not taking your bed."

He sighs, but it doesn't stop the smile growing on his lips.

"Stubborn little so-and-so," He mutters before pushing himself off of the couch, holding a hand out to you. "Come on."

You take it, letting him lead you down the apartment hall again. You take a cursory look around his bedroom as you had his living room a few hours ago. You climb ungracefully into the neatly made bed, snuggling under the covers.

Jack takes a moment longer, drawing the blackout curtains closed, leaving only his bedside lamp to light the room. You roll onto your side, tucking your hands under your head, watching the play of his back muscles beneath his shirt as he leans down, removing his prosthetic and massaging the skin there for a moment.

He glances back and gives a small smile when he spots you watching him.

"All set?"

"Not gonna read me a bedtime story?"

He snorts, reaching out and shutting off the lamp before shuffling under the covers himself.

"Keep it up and you're sleeping on the couch."

You smile into the darkness as he settles down beside you. You can feel him watching you—maybe waiting for you to fall apart again, to offer reassurance.

"...Sorry I cried on you," You mumble.

"I prefer it to having a patient pee on me."

"Oh, well in that case—happy to oblige."

Your eyelids flutter as his hand smooths over your cheek. "Get some sleep."

"Mmkay."

You hold your breath as his hand slides down your cheek, over your shoulder, trailing down your arm. As his fingers skim across yours, you impulsively catch hold of his hand. You're certain he'll give your hand a squeeze before pulling away, but Jack goes still, and you fall asleep with your fingers tangled together.

--

"Hungry?"

You nod, shuffling closer to the table where a pizza box is laid out on his small table.

It had been strange to wake up alone in a bed that wasn't yours, and it had taken a few moments to remember where you were, and how you'd gotten here. Your freshly washed clothing had been neatly folded and waiting for you when you woke up, but you'd stayed in your borrowed clothing.

"You up long?" You ask, sitting at his table.

"Mm," He shrugs. "A bit."

You narrow your eyes slightly, fishing your phone out of your pocket to eye the time.

"How long was I asleep?"

"You got a good five hours."

You grunt, taking a slice leaning back in your seat, muttering, "New weekly record."

"What do you usually do when you can't sleep?"

"I don't know. Read?"

"You need some new hobbies."

"11-8, we've got a report of an assailant with a knife–"

You glance over as Jack hurries to stand, watching him go into the living room and switch something off. Your brows raise as he comes back, amused by the way he studiously avoids your eye and settles back in.

"...Was that a police scanner?" You ask knowingly. His answering grunt is enough, and you stifle a laugh. "So let me get this straight: you hang out listening to the police scanner like you're fricking Batman, but I need some new hobbies?"

"Alright."

"Are you actually fighting crime when you're off shift? It would explain your go-bag."

"I like to be prepared."

"Uh-huh." You smile as Jack shakes his head, picking at a piece of pepperoni on his slice. "Thanks for letting me crash."

"Sure. You needed sleep."

"I mean...I mean crash-crash."

"Just glad you came in."

"You didn't think I would?"

"Wasn't sure." Jack takes a bit, leans back in his seat. You don't have to look to know that he's watching you; to be able to feel him winding up. You figure you're going to get a speech, but—

"Tell me next time you feel like that."

You wince, wind up to argue, but Jack holds a hand up to stop the argument.

"I don't need to know what you're thinking word-for-word. But tell me if it's getting...You know."

"Scary?"

"Does it feel scary?"

You consider it, picking at the crust on the slice. "...Last night did."

"A man put a gun to your head. That would scare anybody."

"...Yeah." You draw in a deep breath. "I'll tell you if you tell me."

"Tell you what?"

"When you're thinking about going to the roof." You think for a moment that you've gone too far; Jack's brows pop up, jaw muscle ticking as he clenches it. You wait for him to tell you that you've overstayed your welcome, o give him back his clothes, take your half-eaten slice and get out.

But instead he leans across the table and holds his hand out. Deal.

You take hold of his hand, pump it once, and you both settle back to finish eating.

--

"You coming in tonight?"

You give him a knowing glance as you pull your jacket on, and he smiles, nodding.

"I figured you would," He adds, "Never hurts to ask."

"I guess."

"You could take the day. Everyone would understand."

"I need to get back in there."

"Exposure therapy."

"Something like that."

You pick your bag up, slinging it over your shoulder. "I know I said it before, but thank you. Seriously. I don't, uh..." You trail off, looking around his entry way. "I don't know what the last few hours would've looked like if I'd gone home."

Jack closes the gap between you, tipping his head to catch your eye, and smiling when you do.

"Anytime."

And from anyone else, you'd think they were just trying to console you, but in that moment, you know that he means it. You nod, reaching out and giving his arm a gentle squeeze and a pat before turning away.

"See you in a couple'a hours."

Tag list:

@missredherring ; @fantasticcopeaglepasta ; @massivecolorspygiant ; @amneris21 ; 

@ew-erin ; @youngkenobilove ; @carbonated-beverage​​​ ;  @moonlightburned ; @milf-trinity ; 

@millllenniawrites ; @videogamesandpoorlifechoices ; @missswriter ; 

@thembosapphicclown ; @brandyllyn ; @wildmoonflower ; @realwhoreforfictionalmen

 ; @mad-girl-without-a-box ; 

@winchestershiresauce ; @lorecraft ; @kmc1989

[janebonbon]

A Nagging Welcome Home Theory

With everyone else posting their theories, I thought I'd throw my hat in the ring. However, I'd like to point out something that I don't think many others have noticed, or publicly commented on.

This fucking thing. I have seen many comment on it, but not quite make the same connections. Like many of the other bugs in Home, I think it pulls a main motif from other neighbors. I think this thing- this Buggle as it is called in the file name, is a stand-in or representation of some kind for Barnaby.

Okay, okay, stay with me. The three points that stick with me about this thing. One, it's a dog toy. That seems extremely deliberate to me. Why not make it a plush toy? Why a dog toy if it wasn't important to connect to another dog? Secondly, most of the words are ripped out, but one stands out. "Grow-a-pal". Call it far-fetched, but this gives points to the Barnaby association. We all know that Barnaby is a very big dog; and not to mention, he's Wally's best pal. It made me remember this trivia fact listed on this dedicated wiki page.

And last but not least, the Buggle seems to have very dog-like mannerisms. If you've seen any dog stomp something down it seems strikingly similar to what the Buggle is doing. Much like dogs after digging...

"BUT JANEY!", I hear you cry. "What the hell does that have to do with ANYTHING!?!" To that, I say, a hell of a lot! But just keep the fact that Barnaby and the Buggle's tie together in mind.

Julie mentions that the flower that won't bloom is far away from Sally's stage. I wonder if we'd be able to find this possible flowerbud in the neighborhood?

However, there's no sign of this black flower. I have seen some theories that the footsteps behind Julie's house must lead to that flower. However... I believe that's incorrect. I believe it's a red herring. It feels too close to Sally's stage; which is right next door to Julie's house. Perhaps it's the path Julie and Frank took to meet her siblings instead. However... if you do look around.. There is something... Strange.

There seems to be a very suspicious looking pile of disturbed dirt nearby Barnaby's house. The flower overtop of the mound almost makes it feel like a grave. Tying this fact to the fact the Buggle is connected to the black flower's destruction in some way... I can't help but wonder if Barnaby was involved with burying this secret.

It's not the first connection we've seen between Barnaby and digging either. If you look back in the news posts, in the Homewarming update, the WHRP leaves off with a bit of an... Odd joke.

Considering that Homewarming was the big update before Springtime Salutations, it feels like a deliberate crumb that was left for the future. Not to mention it's barely a joke, and more of a fact.

I'm more and more sure of the fact that Barnaby is a helper to covering up things that could get the neighborhood in 'trouble'. Note again that Wally uses "we" when describing what is going on in the neighborhood. I think this 'we' at least includes Barnaby as well, considering how close Wally and Barnaby are. Wally mentions him twice in the same recording.

I am particularly suspicious about Wally mentioning the phrase 'you scratch my back, I scratch yours.' A phrase that shows a reciprocal help. Which could mean either doing something unpleasant, or something someone is unable to do. I think Julie fits both of those boxes. I think Barnaby buried the flower for Julie.

Additionally, Due to Wally and Julie both mentioning 'trouble', and WHRP looking more and more suspicious for silencing Wally; I'm even more suspicious of the fact the unbloomed flower looks quite a lot like Marlo's logo.

Lastly, I think the box image posted on awayfrompryingeyes is the Buggle. I believe even the name of "Buggle" is a pun of "Bug" and "Beagle".

I am not sure of what to make of this beyond these facts and connections I've made, but I believe the next update may center around Barnaby.

Tell me what you think of these connections as well! Maybe I've missed something myself. Na razie!

[onlyquinns]

Maybe how Clayton keller would react when you two are fighting and you flinch thinking he's gonna hurt you but instead fix his hair or something

he's annoyed. he's annoyed that you saw that he'd called and left no response in return. but clayton is mostly annoyed at himself for not backing down when he knows to.

the two of you have been arguing for half an hour, not raising voices but talking with venom. you're tired, tried to explain that you didn't have time to send him a text, that just because his season--his work--is over doesn't mean that yours is. and he won't listen.

you turn away from the cutting board on the kitchen counter, make a point to put the knife down while making eye contact with him. "clayton, how many times do i have to repeat myself?" you grumble, hands on hips, eyes fiery with aggravation. "i couldn't respond because i had a work emergency, okay?"

clayton huffs, nostrils flaring. he looks wild; his eyebrows are pinched together and his hair is pushed back from his face. "what emergency? i'm concerned and you telling me you had an emergency at work doesn't help!" his voice raises in pitch, and you have to take a deep breath to ground yourself, to keep the frustrated tears at bay.

"clay, i can't tell you," you mumble, because it's true--working as an elementary nurse makes it hard for you to talk about your work; every kids personal information and accidents are private, and clayton doesn't understand.

clayton groans, tipping his head forward, annoyed that the argument has gone full circle and brought the two of you back to the beginning. when he looks up, his hair is in his eyes and blocks his vision. he reaches up to push it back. the sight of him raising his hands put you in fight-or-flight. you take a step back and brace for impact--eyes shut tight and arms coming up to brace yourself, to protect your head.

clayton freezes, arms hanging in mid-air at the sight of you curled up in on yourself. "baby?" he whispers, anger and annoyance leaving his body immediately. he slowly lowers his arms, and you open your eyes a little to make sure he isn't tricking you or trying to come at you. "baby, i'm... i'm not going to hurt you." he takes a small step forward and you hesitate, stumbling backward an inch.

"are you sure?" you ask, and the fear on your face makes clayton mentally berate himself.

he nods, "yes, baby--i'm not going to hurt you. i promise." you let him get close to you. "i'm sorry, baby. please, believe me." his words wobble, cracking as he speaks--as he pleads.

you nod slowly and take a small step toward him, letting him embrace you. you're tense for a second, fearful he might change his mind and hurt you. he holds you tighter, whispering in your ear--soft apologies that wobble as he says them, words tight with emotion, with the idea that you thought he'd ever hurt you.

"i'm sorry," he whispers over and over, and your body relaxes in his hold. you tuck your face into his chest. "i would never hurt you, baby, i'm so sorry i scared you; i'm so sorry." he cries against your shoulder and you press further into him, wiping unshed tears into his shirt.

"i know, clay, i'm sorry; i know you would never hurt me," you tell him. "i'm sorry i didn't text back, baby. i promise i'll--"

clayton shakes his head, "no, it's my fault. i was being stupid. i know how much those kids mean to you and you're incredible for keeping their shit safe. it was stupid of me to get upset at you, i'm sorry." he squeezes tightly, keeping you in place. "i love you," he murmurs. "i love you so fucking much."

you wrap your arms around his waist, holding him to you just as tightly as he holds you.

the apartment smells like warm soup, like clayton's shampoo and cologne. and you feel so incredibly ridiculous to think he'd hurt you, because your clayton would never.

you inhale deeply, closing your eyes. "i love you, too, clay. so much." and you hold onto him even tighter to prove it.

[ghostedgwen]

but I knew you | j.potter [part four]

note : THANK YOU THANK YOU FOR ALL THE ENTHUSIASM towards this fic! I can't believe I got over 400+ notes on the first three parts. This is wild! I am so grateful for u guys, pls enjoy the final part<33 p.s : my requests are open again if any of u are interested in sending anything

warning : more angst but some cute moment as well, some anxiety on your part but jsut briefly mentioned, James and his relentless firting, I swear this part is kinder, happy ending - sort of

James gets into an accident during a Quidditch game and develop amnesia - he doesn't remember the past 2 and a half years, and he currently has the mentality of fourth-year James. This doesn't bode well for you that your boyfriend of 2 years now currently thinks he's still  in love with Lily.

└——————— - [ 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 : 𝚃𝚊𝚢𝚕𝚘𝚛 𝚂𝚠𝚒𝚏𝚝 - 𝙲𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚒𝚐𝚊𝚗 ]. +

You cannot believe you are here again.

Watching over his sleeping figure in the infirmary while Madam Pomfrey fuss over him.

You all decided to keep quiet about McLaggen for now, so you lot were being chastised by the matron over the "prank gone wrong" incident that landed James on her lap again.

You could feel the anger bubble in you but kept it at bay as James' well-being came first, obviously.

"Now, I have matters to discuss with Dumbledore so you four can look after Mr.Potter here." He tells you before leaving abruptly.

None of you dared to question her and only watched her leave. Once she was gone, you turn to the other three boys and they kept quiet, seeing the scary expression you had on. Peter looked like he was about to piss himself.

"____," Remus cautiously called out your name. "Are you okay? McLaggen said some vile things back there, we hope you know that we won't let him get away with this."

Sirius huffs. "The bloody fuck we won't, fucker will deserve what's comin' for him when James wakes up."

You nod slowly at them. "Could I - ask for some privacy, with James?" You ask them, watching them all get up and nod at you with sympathetic smiles. "I just, wanna think of what to say once he wakes up and I was hoping to have him all to myself for a bit when he comes about."

"No worries, we understand." Remus tells you and he pats Sirius on their way out as the other boy looked about ready to set the castle on fire. "We'll see you back at the common room."

You give them all the best smile you could muster while they piled out and it was just you left all alone to your thoughts. Your face was immediately  encased in the palm of your hands as you allow your frustrations to settle in.

Having held onto it well enough to get James settled into the infirmary first, you could feel the tears build up. It's already bad enough your boyfriend couldn't remember you, but then he gets injured again - and you feel like everything is your fault.

You missed your James even more.

He would know how to hold you, what to say and just what to give. He always knew you so well that you couldn't even be mad at him for even a minute, he was always quick to melt your resolve and fix anything that is even remotely broken.

James was perfect - so much so that you almost thought the universe had created him exactly for you. All the time he spent chasing after another girl long forgotten when he treated you so well, and not once made you doubt his loyalty -

Lily was a story of a very distant past, but that past has come back to haunt you.

But despite all this, you still love him. It did not waver one bit, despite how much hurt you got from the Quidditch accident, despite the struggle of going through your memories by going around the castle - you still wanted James Potter.

With a resigned sigh, you look up at him again to see his sleeping figure and wondered just how it all went so badly wrong.

You look around the Great Hall pointedly ignoring the way people were whispering as you walked by, it has been like that ever since James Potter very oublicly announced that you werer the new subject of his latest fascination.

At least, that's what you thought. 

There was no way a boy who pined for a girl for 2 whole years would just up and change his mind upon meeting you. He just probably got bored by the same familiar faces in the castle and barely met anyone outside.

You knew you were fresh, and even the other boys in your year wanted their slimy hands on you. You paid them all no mind and headed for the table cluttered with students clad in red and gold. 

Almost full from the attention, you still managed to serve yourself Dinner and pointedly ignored how even the Professors barely concealed their interest in you. You barely made it into Gryffindor, almost getting sorted into Slytherin.

You wondered if Potter's demeanour would be completely different if that was the case. 

You didn't get to think too deeply on it when he made his presence known, pushing aside the 2nd year boy that sat next to you in order to provide space for himself, which he eagerly took with a charming grin your way.

"Oh hey there, ____."

You ignore him. He did not seem fazed one bit as you learned that he's quite used to the treatment, how he's not dying from shame is beyond you. You continue eating until you could barely swallow anything, too uncomfortable from the way he watched you so shamelessly.

"Bloody fuck, what do you want, Potty?"

He lets out an exasperated laugh. "We're on nickname basis, eh?"

"Don't talk to me like we're close, like I like you." you tell him off but he brushed off your harsh words as if they never even left your lips.

"Alright, I'll take it though it's too out of my style -now what to call you. . ." he trailed off, then his lips stretched into a devilish grin. "Pretty girl."

You almost choked in your own spit. "What?"

"Pretty girl, that's your nickname."

"You are unbelievable."

"Thank you." he winks, taking a sip from his goblet.

.

.

"I'm going to be completely raw and honest, and I need you to answer me without any of your jokes and witty remarks," you tell him, biting the insides of your cheeks. "Please tell me it's real."

James frowned, he can see the tears building up in your eyes and it felt like a punch to his gut to see that expression on your face. He was too used to see you either scowling at him or laughing at either his fuck-ups or his jokes, though you admit to hating his audacity, you always laughed when he earned it.

This is new.

This is a new face that he wasn't sure how to process, so he asked - "What do you mean?"

You let a brief moment of silence pass as you gather all your strength to say your thoughts out loud. Nights spent questioning everything, wondering just what and why, you couldn't just come up with the answers yourself, so here you are.

"I need you to tell me it's real. All those months you chased after me, please tell me it wasn't just some game to you to get you out of your rejection streak from Evans - Merlin, please swear to me this is real so I can stop being scared."

His frown deepened, if that was even possible, and he took careful steps towards you. hesitantly grabbing your hand so he can hold it and the action urged you to meet his eyes. Although confusion pooled in them, there was also so much sincerity.

"This is real," James assures you. "This is very real and what I feel for you is not some game. You are not a prize to be won, ____. What are you scared of?"

You let out a humorless laugh as the tears finally fall. "Merlin, I think - I know - I am falling in love with you, and I needed you to tell me it's real because I needed to know it was safe to fall."

James' look of confusion slowly faded away and his pursed lips broke into a wide grin, his hold on your hand tightening as he felt the excitement bubble inside him.

"You don't have to be afraid, pretty girl," James kissed your hand without a second thought. "I will gladly catch you if you fall."

.

.

"James, you're not listening," you tell him with a roll of your eyes and he abruptly stopped whatever he was doing to focus solely on you. "Did you hear a word I said?"

James grinned his charming grin, neglecting to answer you because you both knew what he was gonna say anyway.

You groan. "I said I can't go with you to Hogsmeade, you snogging my face off every chance you get distracted me enough from my Potions essay that is due in 2 days."

James' expression soured at that. "You said it yourself, pretty girl," he smirks with a cross of his arms. "It's 2 whole days away."

"Uh huh, and my parchment is empty, not even a single drop of ink," you roll your eyes again. "Give my lips a break so my hands can get to work - don't even make a dirty joke or I will throw you out."

James let out a bark of laughter. "You can't throw me out of my own dorm room?"

"The bloody hell I will!"

As the memories replayed in your head, you can't help but sink deeper and deeper into your thoughts. The memories always seemed so sweet and innocent, but now had bitter aftertaste from your current predicament.

They did always say to treasure the present, for how quickly it can turn into a distant past - but you are only 17, you didn't think the past would be that far behind you so quickly. 

James would apologize profusely for even bringing up Lily again, he knew how much it scared you to let yourself fall for him. How much you struggled with the vulnerability of being in love, and yet all of that came back to hit you.

You can already tell how dramatic he'd get. Maybe even get on his knees as a grand gesture.

James. . .what would he even say - 

"Galleon for your thoughts, pretty girl?" 

Your head immediately snap to the direction of the voice and you felt your tears finally fall once your eyes met his warm hazel hues. Without even asking any questions, you could already tell that he was back. Your James, he's here.

"Jamey?" You ask, hesitantly approaching him, and he flashed you his famous Potter grin.

"In the flesh," he managed to joke out with a wink. "Mind telling me why my head feels like it got assaulted by bludgers?"

You laughed, throwing your body on him to hug him. The implications could be minded later, you just wanted to celebrate the fact that he's back, you got him back and all your inhibitions melted away.

"You have a lot to make up for," you sniffled, face buried into his neck. 

He hugged you back, his hold on you tight and secure as you allowed more tears to escape your eyes. Your James is finally back, and nothing else mattered for now.

.

Sirius throws his head back laughing, almost spilling the content of his goblet. Remus scooting away to avoid getting any of it to spill on him, making a face at Sirius who failed to see his disgusted expression.

"Fucking hell! We ought to thank McLaggen instead for hitting you," Sirius continues laughing, obviously having had too much Firewhiskey. "Thanks to his cheap ass attack, we got you back, mate!"

James laughed along though his eyes rolled halfheartedly. "Fuckin' twat still has to pay for trying it on with ____."

Remus clears his throat. "He's been hiding from us ever since, quite well, might I add."

Peter laughs from his seat on the floor, lap full of empty snack wrappers. "Least he's got his own head on straight, won't work though."

Sirius finally stopped cackling like a maniac and turned to you who sat on James' lap. "What are you thinkin', ____? Exploding zits? Broken ribs? A broken nose?"

You shake your head with a chuckle. "I am gonna sit this one out. I am just happy James is back."

James smiled at you, making Sirius let out sounds of disgust and Remus with a joking 'boo!' at the cute display of affection. Then Peter perked up from his seat as if he jsut remembered something very important.

"I reckon I've been told McLaggen is deathly afraid of spiders."

the end.

masterlist

-

Tags - @sweetstrawberrianne @d1lf-loverrr @hisparentsgallerryy @jaeviii @simp-for-fiction @froggiedragon @paankhaleyaaar @cumuluscranium @acad3miawhore @notmeduhh @cupcakesnviolets @msmarklee1213 @suyaaachin ! Thank you so much for following this fic 🌸

[mim16s]

This is my first time writing smut, so I hope it’s good!

English isn’t my first language, so there might be some spelling mistakes.

I’m open to requests, so feel free to send me your ideas!

Warnings: Established relationship, smut, cockwarming, MDNI, Unprotected sex.

- Shh, darling... don't move. I'll never finish this paperwork.

You just moaned in response, burying your face in his neck. How dare he ask you to calm down while he was still so deep inside you? You felt his every movement, the slow writhing in the warmth of your walls, each pulse of his thick length leaving your intimacy so wet that it seemed to beg for more - waiting for him to finally fuck you the way only he knew how.

- I can't take it anymore... please, love... ‐ you murmured, sprinkling wet kisses on his neck and collarbone, squeezing him with your pussy in a mute plea for him to drop all those stupid roles and concentrate on what really mattered: you.

- Damn... uhg... don't do that, baby. That's a low blow - he grunted, putting his hands on your waist.

You moaned lowly, rolling subtly against him, seeking the friction you craved - only to be suddenly restrained by a firm grip and a hot, authoritative slap on the ass.

- That's it. Stay still or I won't let you cum.

You stopped instantly. He didn't joke about that. The last time you'd doubted, he'd ruined every one of your orgasms... and you still remembered the delicious torture. Now, if the price for being fucked well was to obey and wait, so be it. You kept quiet, even though every part of your body was begging for more.

- Good girl.

The nickname made you blush, even though you tried not to show it. But the way your body reacted, squeezing him even tighter by reflex, gave you away. You ignored your wounded pride, snuggled back against his chest and buried your face in his neck, trying to distract yourself.

Bruce wasn't much better either. Every contraction of his warm walls brought him closer to the edge. He was trying not to grab you and fuck you like a fucking animal. You were his paradise - tight, hot, receptive - and even though his instincts were screaming, he loved to tease you. Just a little more, he told himself.

From time to time, he would sink in with a slow, deep thrust just to hear you whimper and then go back to work as if nothing had happened. When the last piece of paper was put aside, he finally turned his face to you. You kept your eyes squeezed shut, like someone fighting an internal war. Bruce smiled and kissed your temple. You opened your eyes with tears caught in the corners and a look so full of desire that it made him contract inside you.

- That's my girl... you've behaved so well, deserves a reward.

You nodded, desperate. Just one more minute and you'd lose control.

- All right... I'll take care of you, princess.

His kiss was fierce and sweet at the same time. His lips took yours thirstily, his tongue exploring every corner of your mouth. And then you felt it. The first thrust. Slow, but firm. You moaned against his mouth and he gripped you tightly. The hands on your waist were intense, firm.

You knew you'd be booked the next day, but you didn't care. Not when he was fucking you like that. Not when he knew you so well.

Each thrust was precise, right to the point that made you scream. His name escaped your lips in loud moans that would echo through any hallway in the house. Bruce also moaned hoarsely, enjoying every contraction of your pussy enveloping him to perfection.

- Bruce... there... ah... right there...

You were drunk with pleasure, throwing your neck back, offering your skin for him to kiss, suck, bite. He alternated between thrusting and exploring with his mouth, devoting himself to every part of you as if it were sacred. His tongue went down to her breast, circling her button as his hips accelerated. It was too much. It was perfect.

- Bruce... I'm... I'm close...

- I know, love. Give it to me. Lick me with your juices.

He was on the edge too, but he wanted you to come first. One hand went down to your clitoris and began to trace precise circles. You screamed. The thrusts got faster. You squeezed him hard, making him moan loudly and praise you between sighs.

Your eyes rolled back, his name escaping in a scream as you came - intense, wet, rapturous.

He came straight away, spurting into you with powerful thrusts, prolonging your orgasm as long as possible. Your body trembled, but he held you tightly, glued to you, as if he never wanted to part.

- So good for me...- he whispered, stroking your hair and kissing your lips tenderly, now with a lazy, passionate touch.

You cuddled up against him, feeling the fluids of the two of you mingling, with him still inside you, and after you'd calmed down he finally said

- Come on, love... let's wash up.

He lifted you with ease, carrying you to the bathroom. You smiled, hugging him. After being fucked so well, you'd still be pampered by your husband.

[lunatic-pudge]

Top 3 Kinks (Micah, Dutch, and Arthur)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Don't ask, just accept it plz. I'm thirsting for people I shouldn't and nothing can stop me. Will add John and Javier later. Yes, we're including Javier now. He's working a place in my heart.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Micah Bell:

-Breeding: When trying to hit on Abigail, Micah mentions that he is interesting in Fathering. I know that he's probably bullshitting here and he wouldn't make a good Father, but hear me out. Micah would be the type to hate condoms and hate having to pull out. He likes the thought of knocking his partner up. He wants to get them pregnant and is determind to make it happen. He wants a little Micah Bell IV and he'll do whatever it takes. He'll stuff you to the brim with his cum, making sure none of it leaks out of you. Be ready for multiple rounds and this man saying some of the most vile things to you. But it turns you on, don't deny it

-Gunplay: If there's one thing Micah can't live without, it's his guns. They are his everything and he is never without them. So don't be so surprised when he asks if he can bring those said guns into the bedroom. Don't worry, there will be no bullets in the chamber and the safety will be on. But dear oh God, how he just wants to fuck you with his revolvers so bad. He'll do anything to make it happen, even if he has to beg for it

-Breathplay: Loves being able to pin you down by the neck and cut the bloodflow to your head. He also loves seeing the marks he leaves after being so rough with your neck. But don't think he just wants to choke you. He'll gladly let you put your hands around his neck and give it everything you got. Micah loves to choke and loves to be choked. Any marks will be proudly worn the next day

Dutch Van Der Linde:

-Powerplay: Loves being in control and having the upper hand. Wants to be called names like Sir, Master, or even Daddy. Dutch doesn't like being a sub or giving up his power. He HAS to be the one in control or he will stop everything. And if you fail to address him properly or try to take control, punisment is swift and harsh

-Spanking: This plays part to the power play. If you do something out of line or try to make him jealous, Dutch won't hesitate to bend you over his knee and spank you as punishment. His heavy hand smacking against the softness of your ass. And the feel of his rings also? Just *insert chef's kiss here*

-Mirror Sex: Dutch loves having a mirror involved. Especially if he's taking you from behind and the mirror is situated in front of your face. Then he can watch and see all the pleasure he's giving you. It fuels his ego and gives him more pride than he needs. He'll make you look at him through the mirror too. Demanding you keep eye contact or he'll stop

Arthur Morgan:

-Cockwarming: Arthur loves having you sit on his thick cock while acting like nothing is happening. He'll let you warm his cock up while he cleans his guns and let you hold onto him, desperate for more. He likes having to test his patience and see how long it takes til he runs out of said patience and fucks the life outta you

-Praising: Arthur can't go a round of sex while praising the hell out of you. He HAS to praise you or he won't feel satisfied. And while he'll say some of the sweetest things to you while you two get it on, if you switch it up on him you'll fluster the poor man. Arthur doesn't think he's worthy of the praises from you and it just throws him off. But in secret, he loves it. Makes him wanna cum right there on the spot

-Daddy Dom: I know this one is a rather controversial take, but I can see Arthur being into the whole Daddy dom thing. Like, Javier, he's a service dom, and if it means being Daddy to you, then he'll gladly do it. I just feel like Arthur fits the Daddy role real well and would be protective over his baby, taking care of them and their needs without hesitation

[darlingdeaddove]

I love the idea of having the idealistic punk loser older brother with the band and skateboarding and video games and teasing me but still beating up my bullies and playfighting with me and letting me smoke and drink with him way too young.

Letting me sit on the shitty couch in the garage while his band plays terribly. Giving me a couple beers and letting me strip down to an oversized homemade band tee and my patterned boxers. Giving me a joint to smoke so I don't notice how my brother and his friends are all looking at me. Staring at my young, bare legs spread while I lay drunkenly watching them. Watching my boxers ride lower as I keep scootching around.

Eventually just putting on a track, big brother comes up to me followed by his friends. Easily taking the joint from my hand and taking a long pull before passing it back and unzipping his pants. "Finish your drink," he commands with a slight slur. I do as I'm told and poor the drink down my throat while him and his friends pull off their pants and boxers and surround me.

My big brother positions himself at my boycunt, the leaking tip leaving sticky trails down me already. One friend sits at my head and tips it back so I line up perfectly with his hard cock. "Yo dude your brother is a fucking easy loser huh?" he says in a deep voice. I hear my big brother laugh.

Suddenly a sharp pain crawls up my spine and makes me gasp; big brother pushed his fat tip into me! I try to protest but get met with another huge cock entering my mouth, stopping just before my throat. "Does he bite?"

"Not when he's this fucked up, I've been able to do lots of shit to this kid," big brother replies. What does he mean? I don't remember anything like this happening before. Another sharp pain as they both force their cocks fully inside me, balls slapping against my face and ass as I hear a slobbery kiss from above me. "Don't worry dude, he won't remember a fucking thing. Have fun. Love you."

I feel big hands grab my tiny body, rendering me completely helpless as they start to thrust in and out of my holes. Big brother's other friends watch us, cameras on my holes and face and tiny little body as they jerk off. I hear them mutter about money, and getting better cameras one day. Big brother holds my cunt on his throbbing cock, I feel it like a heartbeat inside me while his (boy?)friend uses my throat up. "Who's next?"

The two older boys pull out of me, leaving me choking and whimpering while my brother's other friends approach. Getting me on my hands and knees with a collar and leash to hold my head up. One lines up behind me, poking at my ass. "Ever used his ass before man? Wanna prepare for the screaming if not," he says in a husky voice. Probably his oldest friend, an actual adult in his 20s! Using my tiny ass!?

"Nah never, but go ahead it'll make good film," my brother says, cracking another beer and pulling out his own phone to film his two older friends rape his baby brother. I try to protest, but my intoxicated state and tiny body makes it impossible. A cock slams into my ass, making me scream loudly with my sore throat. How no one hears me from outside is a mystery, but all 4 boys groan happily at my screaming and crying.

Suddenly I'm lifted onto his cock, my tiny body sliding down with a big wave of pain and slight pleasure. He reaches around and strokes my tdick, making me whine happily and cease crying. "Fuck he's so easy, look how quick he is to shut up. Must love having icky old man cock in your ass huh, little boy?"

I whimper and nod, looking dead into a couple cameras with a lustful and pained face. The last of my brother's friends line up to enter my cunt again, sliding into it easily now that big brother stretched me out. He's not as thick, but his cock is so long it feels like it's slamming into my brain!

I let out several cries and whines as I get fucked by two cocks at once again, my body completely limp as they use me like a toy. Eventually coming to their climax, not even asking big bro before holding my hips down on both their cocks as they fill me up with cum. The oldest one pulls my head back to spit in my mouth, biting my neck hard before pulling out and dropping me onto the couch again.

All the boys back away, tidying themselves up while big brother comes to clean me. Cooing, praising, wiping my sore kiddo holes with his cock to clean me up. Sliding in to me gently to fuck the bad cum out of me. "Don't worry little brother, I'll make sure your insides are all nice and clean again." I whimper as I ride his cock, nuzzling into his shoulder as safe big brother cum flushes into my boycunt, making my tummy poke out from being so full. "Mmm much better."

"Hey dude, bring your little bro to every practice from now on. He's a good addition to the band," one of the friend says from afar while he grabs his things.

"Yeah of course," he says back before turning to me. "Guess I'll have to keep you nice and clean more often..."

[thezombieprostitute]

Tech Tuesday: Ransom Drysdale

Summary: Ransom is approached with an offer that could keep his family off his trail.

A/N: Reader is female. No other physical descriptors used.

Previous

Tech Tuesdays Masterlist

Another night, another "date" that went nowhere. Sure he's only looking for a quick hookup, but he's still got standards! He sighs tiredly into his second bottle of beer.

Ransom's been pulling himself away from you, for your safety, and it's been making him more and more miserable. He's been getting short with people at work again. The D&D group has been helpful, but even then, it's just not enough. He misses you but he's gotta build that wall between you. At least until he can get his head on straight. And a big part of that is finding some outlet for his sexual frustration.

But the dates all boring, just interested in a free meal, not even decent at conversation. What the hell happened to him? When did he actually start to give a damn about substance? He just needs someone to fuck, not get married to! Why couldn't he just grin, bear it and get them in bed?

Because they're not Bubbles, he thinks. That thought makes him freeze and he's tempted to smack some sense into himself. He's been struggling, fighting that little judgmental voice that points out how each date falls short of being you. He's scared of what it means. He won't drag you down with him. You deserve better.

His musings are disrupted when someone sits across from him. Ransom looks up and is only partially surprised to see Nick.

"Hello, Hugh."

"That's not my name," Ransom spits. "You've got the wrong person."

"So good at lying you've even managed to convince that sweet thing that you're becoming a good guy," Nick taunts, making Ransom grip his beer bottle tighter.

"I'm not who you're looking for," Ransom says through gritted teeth, not meeting Nick's gaze.

"We both know that ain't true," Nick smirks. "I was hired by your mother, Linda Drysdale, to find her son. She's paid good money to get information on you. I've got your name, your work location, even your home address."

"So I should call the police because you've been stalking me?"

"You have no idea how much of this information is public knowledge."

"Why haven't you given Linda the information?"

"Short answer: because she's a bitch." Ransom guffaws at that. "Long answer, I can understand why you'd want to go 'no contact' with that viper pit you call a family. I'm not that coldhearted. But, your mom is paying me quite a bit of money, and I do like happy customers not demanding their money back."

"Again, I'm not the person you were hired to look for," Ransom reiterates as Nick rolls his eyes. "But what's the price of you not telling these strangers about me?"

"Simply put, a date with your friend from New Year's," Nick shrugs. "She's cute, sweet. Way to bubbly for someone like you."

"She's not for sale," Ransom seethes.

"Agreed. She's an independent, pretty woman who deserves to be treated like a queen. She also seems the loyal type. You tell her one date with me and you're free from your family, I'm sure she'll agree to the terms."

Ransom slams a fist on the table. "Don't fucking talk about her like that!"

"Like what? That she's practically an angel, especially for befriending an asshole like you? I looked into your past, Hugh. Not pretty."

"And yours is better?"

"Yes," Nick states. "Not only that, but how do you think she'll feel when she finds out you've been ditching her for dates with bimbos in search of a quick hookup?" Ransom bristles making Nick chuckle. "Just ask her. I'm sure she'll be very open to helping out her friend."

With that, Nick leaves the bar, letting Ransom stew in his thoughts.

You look around the break room, trying to find Ransom. He's been working a lot lately, apparently. He said he's been dealing with a big project. At least his D&D group seems to be going well. His schedule has a lot of meetings with them. You're happy he's making friends but still, you miss him.

At least he's been keeping up with your gift exchange. Just a small gift here and there. Always small, for financial reasons, but always meaningful. He really does listen to you better than anyone else.

It's your turn for the exchange so you opt to go see Ransom at his desk, get at least a little time with him. On your way you bump into Jake.

"Oh, hi!" he smiles. He's always so friendly, but he notices you look...off. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, just...kinda missing Ransom," you confess. "I'm glad that you guys are getting along, that the D&D group is good for him but you meet up so often I barely get to see him anymore."

Jake's eyebrows furrow in confusion. "What do you mean? Is every other week too often? We can try for less, but I dunno if---"

"What?" you whimper, cutting him off. Your blood goes cold and your vision blurs with tears.

"Hey, what's going on? What's wrong?" Jake asks, trying to be calm.

"I need to go home," you sob. You hand him the gift for Ransom and head to your cubicle to clock out early.

Back in the IT Department, Jake approaches Ransom's desk.

"Hey, um, is everything...um..." Jake falters.

"What is it?" Ransom spits.

"Why are you lying to Bubbles?"

Ransom's face contorts from annoyance to rage and fear. "What are you saying?"

"I ran into her on my way to get some coffee, she had this for you," Jake puts the gift on Ransom's desk. "And she said you've been hanging out with the D&D group so much you never have time for her." Ransom's eyes go wide. "I didn't realize you've been using us to cover for doing something else and told her the actual schedule."

"Shit," Ransom mutters as he facepalms.

"What's going on, Ransom?"

"I don't want to talk about it," Ransom seethes.

"Okay, emotions are high right now, I get that. When you're ready, I'll be here to listen."

But will she? Ransom worries.

Next

Tech Tuesdays Masterlist

Tagging: @alicedopey; @delicatebarness; @ellethespaceunicorn; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory; @late-to-the-party-81; @lokislady82; @ozwriterchick; @ronearoundblindly; @lokislady82; @thiquefunlover63

[wormswurld]

Benson as a mechanic SPEAK ON THAAAAAT!!!! 🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🔊🔊🔊🔊 The image is just sooo incredibly sexy to meee. The constantly grease stained fingernails, the sweat marks on his white wife beater, the body hair, the cigarette permanently hanging from the corner of his mouth, the lingering smell of smoke and sweat and oil, just the general sexiness of competence with your hands doing manual labour UUUNGHHHH!!!! 😩😩😩😩 In a world where Benson is the local small time mechanic who won't rip you off like some of the other big garages, Randy just keeps getting mysterious car trouble (aka: intentionally fucking shit up with his car so he can have an excuse to see Benson) and of course Benson figures this little twinks shit out in like two seconds but he plays along. That is until these little meet ups start getting kinda pricey and Benson goes "Well, maybe we can figure something out,,," so of course Randy ends up bent over the bonnet of his car while Benson takes him from behind till he's sobbing. As 'payment', of course. And that's how they start hooking up on the regular in Bensons garage. Something something, randy always leaves covered in grease and bruises and looking all dazed

it’s so sexy to me too !!!!! benson’s arm hair, his pits always being out and sweaty, his happy trail being thick and shaking down into his bush.. literally shivering just thinking about it ! his muscles contracting under the dirty wife beater he got in a pack from walmart, once being a bright ivory color now stained with his sweat, dirt, oil, and any other things a working man like himself comes across.. benson constantly smelling like musk and cigarette smoke and sweat no matter how many times he showers, maybe randy starts to shyly ask benson to shower less just so his scent can cling onto his personal more,, maybe randy even laying his head close to benson’s armpit just to inhale him.. maybe when it starts getting too costly randy starts freaking out because he’s literally wasting all of his savings away every single week to try and see benson, but benson being the manipulative fuck he is guilts randy into some different form of “payment”…

“i don’t know what to tell you kid.. either you pay the price or…” and randy immediately blurts out something along the lines of “i’ll do anything you want” because (a) he would and (b) he wants to keep seeing benson,, and benson just smirks and shakes his head as he says a teasing little “yeah?” staring into randy’s needy doe eyes, and randy’s just awestruck and nodding his head because benson looks almost godlike.. then maybe benson takes randy behind the shop and tells him to get on his knees and before randy had time to question what’s happening benson threatens “it’s either this or the money sweetheart” and randy snaps into place and gets to his knees, knowing they’re gonna bruise by how fast he hit the ground.. cut to randy giving the WORST head ever 🫶 choking, gagging, occasionally stopping to spit, eyes watering, the whole nine yards ! and benson is in heaven because he knows he has to keep this one around for awhile…

[satancopilotsmytardis]

What do you think are some petpeeves in the Shigadabi relationship? Like Character A leaving clothes on the floor instead of putting them in the laundry bin.

I think that Dabi's pet peeves about Tomura are:

Tomura will eat anything and always be grateful for whatever Dabi cooks for him-- but Dabi knows that he genuinely doesn't actually care about what he's eating. The man drinks Monster Energy mixed with coffee and thinks that's a good as high-end scotch. He knows that bitch doesn't give a fuck about dinner and would be just as happy with fast food and that annoys him. 

He will always manage to put his cold feet on Dabi when they're sleeping, and he is suffering the entire time. 

That man will not wash a dish or do household chores in the sense that he just seems to forget that they have to be done. He's lived his life with other people taking care of mundane stuff like that and just won't think about it, but if Dabi brings his attention to them, he'll figure out how to do them happily. But it annoys Dabi that it's just not something that naturally comes to find for him. 

When Shig needs to recharge, he just disappears. Even if he stays in the actual base, he just finds somewhere quiet and away from people and just doesn't respond to anything until he feels like he's ready to. Dabi gets that he needs his 'me time', but his brain can't help but scream that maybe he did something wrong, which makes him annoyed with himself, and he turns that back on his lover. 

Tomura's pet peeves about Dabi: 

0-100 at all times. Dabi does not have a 'chill' setting. Any aloofness is hiding some kind of emotional outburst, positive or negative, at all times. He loves his firefly, but it can be a little much sometimes, especially if he's not doing the best that day either. 

Dabi just. Gets out of the shower. He fully believes that he can dry off faster with his quirk than with a towel, but he always leaves puddles on the floor crossing from the shower over to where he's hung his clothes, and Tomura always ends up stepping in them. 

Blanket hog! How??? Dabi runs so hot, but he still pulls all the covers to himself in his sleep! If Tomura is not restraining his arms in a cuddle, he will have no blankets and be extra cold as Dabi swaddles himself into heat stroke. 

Weaponized competency. When Dabi is not feeling good and desperately needs a break, he often puts himself in the position of leading some kind of major project that he has to be around for. He does it as a form of self-harm, thinking that if he does this, then Tomura can't tell him to stop because it would interrupt his work. Tomura hates it when Dabi makes him the bad guy for wanting his lover to actually take care of himself, but he'll do it anyway because he knows that Dabi needs the fight and needs to be forced to surrender before he'll actually do what he should be. 

[mothinkling]

how would the LIs react to a high/drunk mc

can be romantic or platonic!

no specific scenario, either they found mc in that state or was with them when they got high/drunk

DRUNK TOO MUCH (TOUCHSTARVED X GN!READER HC)

Summary: Getting drunk with/around the TS cast.

TW: Mentions of mild coercion, dubious consent and intoxication.

A/N: This was way too fun to think about, I really hope in the full-release we do actually have an option to get drunk because that'd be hilarious.

Vere; 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡

♡ Oh, how pathetic are you? somehow managing to get wasted off some cheap, watered-down drinks at the Wet Wick.

♡ Even when he's softened from champagne, he still manages to keep his dignity.

♡ Although at least someone knew how to have a good time, unlike a certain two other limp-dicks who seemed incapable of loosening up.

♡ He'd coerce you into doing the stupidest shit imaginable, his cunning and sly words working tenfold in your intoxicated state.

♡ Unless you're out in public with him, he won't soil his reputation for your idiotic antics.

♡ Despite the fact he'd be flirtier and much bolder with his words, especially if he's also drunk as well, he wouldn't actually take you upstairs.

♡ He'd rather you beg for him fully conscious, there's a lot more humiliation in how desperate you are when you're completely sober. <3

♡ He's too pretentious to down anything other than brandy drinks, which doesn't leave much for a party buzz.

♡ 6/10 drinking buddy.

Ais; 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡

♡ He thinks it's absolutely hilarious, was likely the one to encourage it in the first place.

♡ He's also very competitive, chances are he'll take it as a competition to get just as wasted as you, even if his alcohol tolerance is much higher.

♡ Doesn't matter if it was a challenge, you're about to be plunged into a drinking game, whether you like it or not.

♡ He won't make you try any of the disgusting concoctions Leander cooks up, he doesn't really care if you're getting wasted on expensive shots or cheap vodka, as long as you consume a ton of it.

♡ And if you're looking to do stupid shit, he's right behind you; but at least he'll be somewhat mindful that you don't hurt yourself.

♡ He'd enjoy if you're a talkative drunk, especially since he's right there swooning next to you- but he's more of a chill drunk, leaving the shenanigans to you.

♡ He wants to hear every word of your delicious, intoxicated rambling, to hear every thought going on that pretty little sparrow head of yours.

♡ He's just savoring the fact your thoughts are still yours, please don't drink from the spring, keep your shitty personality that's captivated him so.

♡ 10/10 drinking buddy.

Leander; 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡

♡ The man of the hour, the one who's likely gotten you very wasted.

♡ And again, is probably fucked up himself; he isn't one to serve what he can't take wink wink.

♡ He would encourage your antics but not from a place of egging you on like Ais, but more that he's so loopy and chilled out that he can't do anything but laugh.

♡ At least that's what you think, he's still fully aware of every word leaving his mouth that wraps around your mind like the silk ties attached to his bed. :)

♡ He'd definitely try to feed you his extremely strange drinks he's mixed up, no matter how chunky or very unappetizing it is.

♡ At least he's merciful enough to not let you leave the Wet Wick and wreak havoc on the town, although that might be more because he doesn't want you to leave him.

♡ He'll use this to prob at you, asking your opinions on the city around you and anybody you've interacted with, drawing out your slurred speech.

♡ He's a firm believer that drinking with friends is the only way to go, so expect to be wasted with company!

♡ Don't worry, he's so gentlemanly he'll even take you upstairs to your room, don't worry about the key! he has access to every room in this establishment.

♡ He'll tuck you nice and cozy into bed when you start to stumble, and if your foggy mind wants him to join you, who is he to say no?

♡ I'm a 12/10 drinking buddy, don't listen to what they have to say, I'm the real-deal, beautiful.

Mhin; 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡

♡ Really? are you incapable of making responsible decisions for the life of you? they wonder how you'd even made it to Eridia alive.

♡ Extremely grumpy about it, acting as if it's their job to look after you- even if nobody asked them.

♡ They'll very openly point out anything wrong with Leander's cocktails and 'special mixes', kind of a buzzkill.

♡ They'd act disinterested, letting you do whatever you want as if they didn't care; but miraculously you never end up waking up hurt, how peculiar.

♡ If you aren't at the Wet Wick and need to stumble home or somewhere else, they won't follow.

♡ At least that's what your hazy mind thinks, you're intoxicated enough to not feel the set of eyes tracking you.

♡ They'd follow you home (In a none-creepy way, they vehemently protest) to make sure you don't stumble your way into the jaws of some monster.

♡ 2/10 drinking buddy.

Kuras; 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡

♡ He's so confused, not only on your behavior but why you'd put yourself in this position in the first place.

♡ He can't physically get drunk himself; enough that even if he's read about the effects, because of his lack of empathy- he still can't really understand.

♡ Sure he knows that your inhibitions have fogged over from the release of dopamine in your bloodstream, but he doesn't really know why that means you insist on trying to climb over the bar.

♡ He'll hover over you as you drink or dance, telling you all the effects whatever Leander fed to you is having on your body, as if that'll magically make you sober up.

♡ Another buzzkill, but he doesn't mean to be, so he gets a bit more lenience, and he'd offer the best hangover care.

♡ He'd at least find any sort of drunken rambling to be endearing, he'd enjoy hearing you spill the thoughts you'd likely have kept to yourself, answering very few of the questions that's been swirling in his mind.

♡ He'll at least stop you from making a fool of yourself, the moment a dumb idea enters your head he's already ushering you upstairs to sleep off the intoxication.

♡ The party ends when Kuras arrives. :(

♡ 3/10 drinking buddy.

[getmeoutofhell]

Reader W/ Mood Swings HC

Featuring: Jennifer Check, Horny the clown, Billy Loomis, Stu Marcher, Ethan Landry, Hannibal Lecter.

A/n: i hope this is okay!! i added some other people but i made sure you had what you requested!!

Jennifer Check:

Your energy was what attracted her to you in the first place. She enjoyed it when you got mad, as long as your anger wasn’t directed at her. However, once you started dating, she didn’t like it when you were mean to her. She understood that you didn’t necessarily mean to hurt her feelings, but it still upset her. You always apologized after saying something rude, and although it took her some time, she would eventually come back around.

Horny The Clown:

He's definitely in the top five most sensitive slashers, especially when it comes to his feelings. So when you're mean to him, oh boy, he really takes it to heart. He'll act like you've deeply hurt him and won't say anything; instead, he'll just walk away and won't return until later. "Do you still hate me?" he asks. You reassure him that you don't hate him and that you didn't mean to say those things. He forgives you.

Billy Loomis:

If you think Billy won't argue back, you're mistaken. Very mistaken. When he's in a bad mood, he will definitely respond if you say something he doesn't like. Your snarkiness can be a turn-on for him, but don’t overdo it. He is very stubborn, which means he won't offer an apology. He'll likely say something like, “You were the one who started it! I’m not fucking apologizing for something you did!” Deep down, he does feel bad, but he struggles to express it.

Stu Marcher:

He is the complete opposite of Billy. If you really need space, he will give it to you, even though it hurts him to leave you alone for a while. He’s willing to do whatever it takes to maintain the peace. Your words can deeply hurt him, and you often feel guilty afterward. However, he forgives you every time. He won’t tell you; but whenever you yell at him he goes and kills someone. He pretends it’s you.

Ethan Landry:

It's somewhat similar to the situation with HTC. He is very sensitive and believes that every time you two argue, it means you want to break up with him. He begs you to stay and promises never to leave you. He loves you, and if necessary, he is willing to change for you. He often says, “Baby, I’ll do anything, just please don’t leave.” He may even cry to try to manipulate you into staying.

Hannibal Lecter:

You will be eaten.

[kingdontruther]

kingdon soulmate au

langdon grew up knowing he didn't have a soulmate. he was one of the few to be born without a soulmark and he had grown to accept it.

abby's soulmate had died before she met them. they find each other and fall in love, and it's everything he's ever wanted. at first. then they have kids, a bit too young probably and a bit too fast. he's never been one to wait. it gets harder, residency is kicking his ass and he re-injures his back. the pills help.

his marriage is not doing well, he knows that. but he knows that all marriages have up and downs, soulmates or not. he wants to make it work, and he's trying his best to fix it.

and then he meets mel on the worst day of his life. he feels it instantly. something warm in his chest, something he's only felt close to feeling when he held his kids for the first time. it's overwhelming in the best way.

he convinces himself that it's nothing out of the ordinary. sure, he doesn't usually look at his coworkers long enough to even notice they're attractive but he's still a man, and it's okay to feel attraction. it's not like he's acting on it but it doesn't help that she looks at him like that, and that she's a great fucking doctor.

and then robby finds the pills in his locker and kicks him out. he's freaking out bc his life is over and it's all a big misunderstanding and he's not an addict, he's a doctor, a damn good one and he can't lose his licence bc he's nothing without it

he comes back to help out with the MCI. he hears her voice, "you're here!" and he thinks he should not be feeling this relieved about seeing her smile, not when so many people are injured and he's about to lose everything.

it's the end of the shift and he doesn't plan to stick around. he just wants to be in his car, or go back to robby and beg. he needs to leave but he can't go home.

he's just finished yelling at robby when he bumps into mel. she's obviously exhausted and looks haunted and he can't blame her. if his life wasn't exploding right this moment this shift would probably take a toll on him too

she looks so relieved and happy to see him that he almost sobs. thankfully he doesn't, but he does bask in the feeling of her. after today, he probably won't feel like that ever again.

she thanks him for today, tells him that she's grateful to have worked this shift with him. he doesn't know what to say.

she extands her hand, telling him she looks forward to working with him in the future and he looks at it for a bit. his heart breaks a little bc he knows they probably won't see each other again, not after what he did. he doesn't deserve the praise she's given him. she'll probably hates his guts when she learns that he's been stealing pills from the hospital, as she should.

she looks a bit worried, when it takes him a bit too long to shake her hand. she thinks he's about to reject her but instead he takes her hand in his and pulls her into a hug.

he probably shouldn't have done that, but he doesn't have the time to dwell on all the fucked up things he's done because suddenly the warm feeling he felt deep in his chest when looking at her feels ten times more intense.

so intense that they both step back immediately and look at each other, speechless. and slowly he looks down at his hand, the hand that held hers, and he already knows what he finds there: a small mark hiding in the palm of his hand, that matches hers.

today's the worst day of langdon's life but as he looks at her, blond hair shining in the dim light of the hospital parking lot, he thinks it might have been worth it for her.

[camaro-and-smokes]

Here have some angst. I don't know where I'm going with this but it was inspired by Djo's cover version of Haim's 'Gasoline' and it was supposed to be porn but then Steve turned out to be too pissed off to tell Billy to come back to bed and...

- - -

"You shouldn't have taken me back." Billy said, blowing smoke out from the corner of his mouth, and watched it vanish through the open window above him.

Steve propped himself on his elbow on the bed and looked at his naked boyfriend sitting under the window, frowning. "Why?"

Billy wouldn't meet his eyes. He took another drag of his smoke. "I'll just break your heart again," he said quietly.

"No, you won't."

Billy did that thing he always did when he didn't believe Steve's words, a shrug and a pinched expression on his face. "What if I do?"

"Why would you?"

"Because I'm an asshole," he said with a tiny voice after a while.

Steve sat up and looked at his newly-back-taken boyfriend for a while, chewing his cheek. Suddenly, he wasn't entirely sure anymore if Billy had just wanted to fuck and was now going to bolt again or if he was going to stay.

Because it was true, Billy had been quite the asshole several times.

The latest of those being first breaking up with Steve at the bar and then shouting atrocities at him when he'd walked out shocked and hurting like hell. And then later, in that same bar, shamelessly kissing other guys right in front of Steve and then probably fucking them in the bathroom.

All this even though Billy had been the one to initiate the break up. It hadn't made sense to then - and it still didn't.

"What was it about?" Steve asked quietly.

Billy glanced at him, then stared his smoke that was turning into ash. As if he'd forgotten about it. "Don't know."

Anger flared inside Steve, this whole thing starting to feel the worse mistake he'd ever done so far. "The fuck you say you don't know? You're the one who broke up with me!" he snapped.

"Just...Felt right. Fuck! I don't know, Steve, okay?" Billy snapped back.

Steve bit his tongue. Yeah. This was a mistake. Massive. "Get out," he said flatly.

Billy wouldn't move.

"Get. The fuck. OUT!" Steve said more forcefully.

Billy's eyelids fluttered and tears fell on his cheeks as he sat as if frozen in place.

Steve knew him shouting at Billy, ever since they had started this thing, had always had more or less the same effect. Making Billy look small and terrified. Steve still didn't know why.

But right now he couldn't care less.

"What the fuck is your problem? My dick is so big that that you begged me to give you another chance just to get me to fuck you? For the old times sake? And now you say you'll just hurt me again and 'hey it's best if I go bye'. Fuck you! Fuck! You!" he spat." Get the fuck out!"

Billy said nothing as he got up, flinging the smoke out through the window, and gathered his clothes from the floor. He hesitated for a moment, then walked out, butt naked, leaving Steve to fume alone in his bed.

+ + +

Steve didn't see Billy for weeks afterwards. He'd hoped that Billy would at least try to explain but the longer he went without seeing him, the hope started to vanish.

Robin had given him an earful for giving Billy another chance to begin with. And she was right, maybe it was time to finally let go of Billy and truly move on.

Then one slow Monday evening, Billy appeared to Family Video.

Steve was alone managing the shop and he couldn't help but to roll his eyes when Billy walked in.

Billy selected a few movies from the shelves and approached the counter where Steve did his best to ignore him as long as possible.

Which was difficult. Billy had clearly put on some muscle, Steve could tell because the shirt Billy was wearing was one of the ones he'd had before Starcourt. Steve could see the shape of the muscles underneath the clothes like with x-ray vision, that well had Billy's body embedded itself to his mind. He had to remind him that that was past and that he shouldn't give Billy any more...

"I'm sorry. For everything," Billy blurted out the moment he set the empty VHS cases on the counter. "For fucking with your head, for leaving you, for rubbing it in your face. For the last time."

The words were exactly what Steve had wanted to hear. "So, you're sorry now, huh?" he spat as he started to ring the movies in. "Not weeks ago when we had just fucked?" The words were tumbling out and Steve just couldn't hold them back. "When I'd just said I'll give you another chance? You have a fucking nerve," he sneered.

Billy put his hands into the pockets of his jacket, looking small. "What do you want me to say then?"

Steve set the filled cases and the receipt on the counter and looked at Billy straight in the eyes. He felt a lurch in his stomach as the watery blues looking back begged for him to forgive, and all his heart wanted to do was just that - but his mind knew better. "It's not about what I want you to say. It's about you being honest and saying only what you mean. Like, really really mean," he said and tapped his own chest with his fingers so hard it hurt, "in here. But it's too late now. I gave you a chance and you blew it."

Billy looked at the cases on the counter as he swallowed and nodded, taking the cases and turned to leave. But after taking a few steps he came back, took a crumpled envelope from his pocket and set it on the counter.

Steve stared at it, biting his tongue, as Billy walked away. He was tempted to crush it into a tight ball and throw Billy with it. To emphasise he wanted nothing to do with him anymore.

And all the while there was nothing more he wanted than to run after Billy, to stop him, to tell him everything is forgiven.

Because Billy was everything Steve had, all he'd ever wanted.

[z-eel]

no regulus literally cannot keep up with them even when he’s sober. remus and james take far longer to come than he does because look… my man was just notttt getting dicked down before. not like that at least.

now remus is on his knees any time he can be for reg, whether he’s cockwarming him while he works or if james is cooking while remus is edging regulus. james barely gets started on fucking him when regulus says he needs to come. he gets two strokes into fucking remus before he comes and then feels so bad he sucks remus off until his jaw is literally aching.

maybe it’d be bad if remus and james didn’t find it so entertaining. they’ll fuck regulus to sleep and then plot more ways to torture him tomorrow. they have fun thinking of new ways to test his endurance, see if he can finally handle them, just how much can he take. he’s so easy it’s almost like he was a virgin. and then suddenly they’re making out and james is on remus’s lap grinding into his cock and hoping regulus doesn’t wake up next to them

regulus, for his part, has never been so horny in his life. at the end of every night he’s bone tired because they’ve wrung him dry again, but he gets up every day and tries again to keep up with them. his exes were never like this, so regulus doesn’t even attempt to keep up with them. if he comes too fast, he lets james use him like a toy or lets remus fuck his face. his dick’s current state is either constantly wrung out or hard. regulus conks out every night feeling like the most spoiled prince in the world

if you’re wondering, no they still haven’t discussed the romance. they kiss, they fuck, they sleep in the same bed, they cuddle constantly, regulus actually moves his things over to their apartment and takes his name off the lease at his old one, but no discussion has been had yet.

-💫🐀

of course he would. avoiding emotional discussion is a very Regulus Black thing to do.

thinking about that free use fantasy James and im laughing because isn't Regulus just their toy at this point. like take a minute to think about it. Regulus is perfectly happy not keeping up with them and just being used and won't even touch the whole 'im living at your place but not actually dating you' conversation because he really like what they have going on right now.

im sure if James asked to have Regulus, Reg would be on board entirely because a) more sex whenever and b) he wouldn't have to have that 'are we dating or just fucking' conversation because free use means anytime anywhere, and that mean they wanna keep him around (even if it's just for sex)

no it's not healthy and yes Remus is well aware of the fact that Regulus is actively avoiding having such a conversation but also he really like having Regulus around, not just for sex and he also doesn't want to risk Regulus leaving (Remus is in full agreement with the free use idea but is telling James they should hold off for now but James already ask and is already taken advantage of Regulus enthusiastic agreement)

[sweetheartsangel]

𝐛𝐟!𝐜𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 Ⅰ

by sweetheartsangel warnings = slightly suggestive, nsfw

he doesn't care about what people might think of him being clingy or too much of an affectionate type of guy in public, and nor does he adhere to them.

obviously, he won't actively try to make out with you in very public spaces, but he doesn't see the big deal over PDA. it just flows naturally for him. if he wants to hold your hand,he will. if he wants a kiss before you have to get up to leave the room, he'll walk up to you and ask for one.

"Y/N, can I have a kiss please?"

"Can we cuddle baby? Please?"

"May I kiss you?"

“Please let me kiss you right now. I don’t care about you just putting on lipstick right now.. just let me baby please, you look soooooo good. too good…”

"Are you okay?"

“ugh, marry me then.”

• it’s a joke. until it’s not. until you’re both just staring at each other in the eyes two inches apart.

• he thinks your glasses are hot. period. especially when you’re working. “brainy hot babe alert”

shut up and kiss me sturniolo

“yes ma’am”

he looks at you like you've hung the stars, even if all you said was his name.

“what are you looking at baby?”

“wha? oh nothing.. nothing-“

he always has something of yours in his pockets — hair ties, lip balm, a receipt from that store you love.

he isn’t soft. god, he swears he isn’t. but when you look up at him and smile like that — like he’s something good, something worth loving, something so perfect — he just sighs. runs a hand through his hair. pretends he’s not blushing.

𝓝𝓢𝓕𝓦

how he reacts when you’re giving him head.

he's definitely down whenever you now bring up the idea of giving him head, he's in love with it. feeling your warm mouth covering him, it's almost like cockwarming but better. he loves feeling your tongue slide up the underline of his cock, all the way up to his tip. god does he love it when it sends him shivers down this man spine it's unbelievable

"F-fuck fuck fuck.." he says aloud, gritting his teeth.

his knuckles become white from gripping the bedsheets below. he throws his head back in ecstasy, adam's apple bobbing; huffs and low groans leave his red smeared lips, feeling his body become a puddle in your hold.

he feels your hand wrap around the base of his muscled flesh, stroking it softly. it sends shock waves to him above you, as he grips the back of your head pushing your head further into his cock. he can feel your wet lips wrap around him, your tongue swirling around the muscle, teasing the underside of his tip.

his attention snaps back down to you, eyes fluttering to stay open. the pressure in his stomach tightens. his chest rising up and down as the pleasure takes over him.

his fingertips start to massage your scalp, bringing a light mewl out of you around his cock. "that's it", he whispers.

"you're doing such a good job sweets... so... so good, shit" he tells you truthfully, feeling the pleasure overrun him.

whenever his brothers aren’t home he loves whimpering for you when eating you out. he still has some control and sentient in his tongue. his eyes close ever so often as he loses his breath, feeling his tongue lathering your pussy in his salvia and feeling your tight walls clench on him, it's a whole 'nother feeling that he's never experienced before, not like this at least.

“mm oh fuck ma… you taste so fucking good”

he loves hearing the noises you make while he eats you out, both together and when you're both apart. when he’s all home alone he'll start to pump his cock whimpering for you, sending you a video of him getting off to you. when he more then likely can just go over to your house which is only give minutes away and fuck you. but he likes to be a good boy for you when he wants to be one

”god, such a dirty slut for me aren't ya?” he pulls his lips from yours, a string of saliva thinning the farther he gets from your mouth, and it finally breaks when he licks his bottom lip. ”chris, please-” ”isn't this what you wanted angel?” he tangles a hand in your hair, ”to be fucked senseless under me like a whore?” he tugs at your hair, making you whine and beg him to just fuck you already.

• his sex drive i'd say is above average, but not by a whole lot

• i think if he can, he'll find a way to fuck you every day or every other day, but if you're not feeling it or you have your period or you just don't want to, it's not the end of the world for him

• his sex drive is based solely on his attraction to you; when he was single he had a low sex drive but when you two started dating it jumped wayyy up

"fuckkkk- sweetheart you're doing so- so good for me." his breath fans hot against your ear and down your neck as he fucks into you, drawing moan after moan out of you.

• lots of praise this way, about how well you take him, how perfect you look under him or on top of him, about how much he loves you and how good you treat him

• i think despite his above average sex drive, he still likes taking his time, teasing you, building up foreplay, because it all adds to the experience for you and that's all he really wants, for you to be happy

© SWEETHEARTSANGEL | MASTERLIST | TAGLIST

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