#I just had to put something out there because its been on my mind lately

[thedawningofthehour]

Okay sorry turns out I had taken practically no pics of the sim I actually created so I had to go back into the game and make her do stuff so I could take pictures of it. Anywho.

This is Laurel Snow, she is a Macabre Horticulturist who Loves the Outdoors. I wanted her to be like a witch sim and thought the Macabre trait was sort of like the Supernatural Fan trait in S3-apparently it is not. So I guess she's a little gothic. Just a little, though. Since this is cottagecore.

She's also become a Romantic and Green Fiend through the new self-discovery thing. And the chosen handyman around the house, because both her girlfriends are terrible at it.

(the first picture is taken at the new house I'm building for them, which is why there is zero landscaping lol)

First girlfriend, Aubrey Bloom. She's a bin sim from the Werewolves pack, I like to put down some bin sims and give them a chance to stretch their legs. Aubrey is a Gloomy Loner who Loves the Outdoors, and since joining the family she has become an Ambitious Art Lover as well. She loves to fish and makes her career as a writer-you know, besides the farm stuff.

Her Gloomy trait doesn't really rear its head much, I've actually gotten several pop-ups asking to replace it with Cheerful! I felt like that was too cheaty, but I'm glad being a cottagecore lesbian has been so good for her depression.

Girlfriend #2 is Vanesha Cahyaputri from the For Rent pack. She's a Good and Creative Child of the Village. I felt kind of bad taking her out of Tomarang, but her gossip indicates that she's really overwhelmed by her life and is only doing the property manager thing out of duty to her parents. I think she's really enjoying the slower lifestyle of Henford-on-Bagley. She also Loves the Outdoors now, and has developed the Family-Oriented trait.

I gave her a new wardrobe and hair, (her old hair was not doing her face any favors) changing it up a bit for country life but I still included at least one Tomarangi clothing item in each outfit, besides her swimwear. She's become the family painter and is rolling wishes to learn piano.

None of them have rolled wishes to get married yet, though Vanesha is starting to wish for babies. I like letting my sims guide themselves a little bit, so unless I have a plan in mind I'll usually gravitate towards whatever they're rolling wishes for and don't make big decisions unless they wish for it. (or accidents happen)

Zhafira, Vanesha's teenage sister who lives with her after their parents died in a tragic microwave accident. She's Clumsy and Nosy. I was just going to age her up and let her go free, but Laurel was pregnant when they moved in and I figured another babysitter wouldn't hurt. Since then she has become Laurel's shadow and handy-partner, (seriously, she ONLY asks Laurel for advice) and a very skilled programmer to boot. I still never bothered to give her a makeover, I figured she was less keen to move out to the middle of nowhere lol.

I figure once she ages up she can have the Cahyaputri rental property. Her skills and interests are much more in line with running it than Vanesha's, plus I haven't played around with that mechanic much and so far it's really annoying.

Laurel's son, Asher.

I think Aubrey is the 'father.' But I don't actually know. She had her first woohoo with Vanesha the day before, I think it was too late to have actually been The Time but I really have no idea.

Nobody else appears on the family tree. Just Laurel as his mother. Idk if this is how MCCC same-sex pregnancies work after the gender overhaul update-like I said before, I usually don't actually play the Sims, just build stuff. All three of them are labeled can get pregnant/can't get other sims pregnant, so MCCC must do something weird to bypass that. Anyway, Asher's still a toddler and has only had the temporary infant/toddler traits, but I left him on the hardwood floor for most of his life so we'll see how he turns out.

Their cute little cottage.

Which was cuter before I put on a second floor. I made it just big enough for Laurel and a spouse. I didn't account for the baby. Or the second girlfriend. Or the second girlfriend's sister. Asher's crib was in the living room as it was.

Uh, yeah. Not the worst, but I still could have done better.

I'm in the process of moving them to a bigger lot and a bigger house, this lot really wasn't big enough for a cow or llama. Just some chickens.

Their names are: Eggbert, Eggatha, Shelly, Audrey Henburn, Eponine, and Ivera Keyes. I have not named the chick yet. It will most definitely be another cringe pun.

I know this has been a long hiatus and this isn't what you guys are here for, but does anyone want to see my farm lesbians

[wiishopchanelboots]

This may not be a new take at all, but since I'm new to the Babylon 5 fandom, has anyone talked about how the Minbari seem really queer-coded? Like (show spoilers ahead), the most obvious thing being Delenn transforming (transitioning) from Minbari to Minbari/Human.

Especially if you consider that the Minbari were originally supposed to be Androgynous, as seen in the pilot:

Forever lamenting the fact that we coulda had a textually trans character way back in the 90s even her robe had trans colors lol

But even outside of Delenn, one of the big arcs for the Minbari at large is breaking out of their rigid caste system. You're a member of the Worker, Warrior, or Religious caste, and what you're allowed to do in Minbari society is strictly determined by what caste you're in.

One of the major plot threads towards the end of the show is the dissection and dismantling of that structure. We even get that dramatic moment where Neroon, poster child Warrior caste boy,

cries out: "I was born warrior caste. Now I see the calling of my heart is RELIGIOUS. The war is OVER! LISTEN TO HER! LISTEN..." dramatically sacrificing himself in order to save Delenn.

And I dunno that all just feels very Queer to me??? I don't know how much was actually intentional on the writers' part, seeing as the show has a *mixed* history with handling queer characters and topics (Justice for Talia ✊). But come on, aliens actively questioning and dismantling the rules and roles that society gave to them, all being spearheaded by a trans-coded woman who thrives in challenging the system??

I mean, hello 🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️

[yaymiyas]

THE HUSBAND

warning: female reader, saer being….saer, yan!isekai!crown prince

a/n: i was so burnt out so lets see what i come up with ….its short ik and yes im cooking up something w cynthia LET ME COOK 🫡🙄🔥🔥🔥🔥💯💯💯💯

the idea of divorce was swimming in the mist of your mind hours before you regained most of the movement in your body. you knew you had to get out of this situation in a peaceful but quick manner. in your mind, leaving saer should have been easy since he hated edina more than the devil himself. he saw her as a shit stain satan left on earth to torture him for all of his days. so why are tears running down his face…thats odd? from all of the tweets, forums, and blogs saer had close to no emotions for edina. he hated her through and through. in the original story, he would’ve cheered of joy if she simply asked to part ways. so why was he sitting in front of you crying? was the bacon too salty? was he remembering the good ol’ times with his late father? ever since you’ve transmigrated into this story, everything has been so weird. aside from you being close to perfectly fine after being fed poison, saer has became more careful.

in the book, saer was close to a bubbling idiot. every single assassination attempt was stopped by a maid because he was stupid. he always played it as cynthia and amanda favoring edina but that wasnt the full truth. he was just too obvious with everything he was doing. you actually kind of felt back for the dummy, no wonder gracie wants nothing to do with him. regardless of any of that, you actually started to feel a bit bad for him. it was obvious saer didnt know why he was crying or how to stop it by the way his face was balled up in red confusion. maybe it was out of guilt or for the plot, either way you wanted to help him. maybe he wanted to kill you but seeing a grown man cry really did break your heart.

“now, saer..”

gently pushing your hand out to cover his larger ones, you put on a voice of concern. you want to help the poor idiot but you also want to get out of this house alive. maybe playing the sweet docile wife could do you some good, maybe—

“ugh, stupid bitch get off of me.”

slapping your hand off of his, saer attempted to keep a face of pure disgust plastered for you to see. why on earth was he crying, and why on earth are you being so off-putting? at first, your new actions didnt really bother him. were they different? yes, but they weren’t unpleasant. but now...it was as if the poison made you utterly indifferent to his presence, which he told himself he loved, but the lord knows thats a lie. you quietly sitting there, dry-face, with a slight frown and uninterested body language, angered him. saer was crying purely for reactions. he thought that crying would help him close this conversation and make you jump up and beg for his forgiveness, but no. all you did was lift your grimly, beastly fingers to ‘comfort’ him. what a joke of a woman.

“im finished with my breakfast”

the scream of the chair was louder than your own thoughts, kicking you out of your own subconscious. what even was that about? you were TRYING to be the version of edina you thought he would like, second from you killing yourself right there and then. so why was he acting like you were trying to jump his bones? he is such a wicked man….such a sad excuse of a person. its such a shame his attitude is so sour, you were going to try to soften his walls to see if he would lighten up on the poisoning situation. how did he get it? who did he get it from?

“madam,”

lightly placing her hand on your shoulder, cynthia appeared. scaring you out of your thoughts, you straightened your back and put on the best fake smile you could. you knew cynthia didnt really care for you, as demonstrated by the bath she gave you earlier, but you thought that maybe you could melt this ice queen. her soft ginger coils shaped her face in all the right places, giving her olive skin the type of glow women in the real world would kill for. she had green eyes to match alone with it, making it easy to find yourself lost in them. cynthia was a beautiful woman; just how did she become a maid for this jackass?

“his royal highness has ordered for you to be sent to your room.”

[eddiesxangel]

That’s that me, Espresso | rockstar!eddie

@mmunson86 requested: I can’t stop thinking about rockstar!Eddie x pop!Princess! reader! & its all thanks to miss SC & Espresso! Imagine they are at one of her concerts right right & she has Eddie sit in the middle of the stage! she is about to debut this song its the last song for the night and she dances on him , for him , around him & Eddie is loosing his mind so right after the concert he wastes no time and takes her into the dressing room & the rest well you know the rest 🙂‍↔️💗

Cw: modern au, Rockstar!Eddie x Pop!princes wife reader. Age gap, Eddie is a filthy simp for his girl, soft!Dom Eddie (sir), oral (f receiving), p in v (unprotected), small bit of anal fingering. Talks of pregnancy.

2.3kwords

We are back baby!!! From the Wildflower universe, if you want more of the lore on these two.

“You ready, Angel?” Your husband smiles at you.

Husband, it still has a nice ring to it. You’ve been married just under a year. Giving birth to your little one put the wedding on the back burner, but you started the wedding planning once Lila Rose was 7 months old.

“Yeah, I think so,” you smile. You’re already in your hair and makeup, just waiting for your turn to get on stage.

The rowdy crowd of music festival goers grow impatient as the crew tirelessly works to remove the previous acts' set design.

“You think they’re going to like the new song?” You fiddle with the bedazzled mic in your hands.

“You kidding me? They’re going to love it!”

Eddie always encouraged your work, even if it wasn’t his thing. He loved every song because it was yours.

“All performers take their mark,” you hear the stage director in your ear.

You give Eddie one quick kiss and make your way to the stage.

The set went perfectly, but the riding anticipation of the new single was still in the back of your mind.

“Okay, Coachella! I’m going to need you to help me out with something.” You smile. “This is my last song of the night, and it’s brand new, so I’m a bit nervous.” You pace the stage.

“Now I have a special someone backstage with me, and I know he won’t come out unless we pressure him, so I’m going to need your help, okay?” you walk over to side stage and look him in the eye

You knew he would kill you, but you needed him for the extra moral support, and you kinda had a plan up your sleeve.

“Come on out, Eddie, baby,” you smile, and the crow starts to chant Eddie’s name.

Feeling embarrassed and a bit proud of you for getting what you wanted. Eddie stocks onto the stage, giving a small wave, not wanting this to be about him.

“Sit,” you speak into the mic and point to the fold-out chair in centre stage.

Eddie sits, and before he can protest anymore, he hears the first few beats of the music.

“Nice,” you sing in your breathy tone your husband can’t get enough of.

Now he's thinkin' 'bout me every night, oh Is it that sweet? I guess so Say you can't sleep, baby, I know That's that me, espresso Move it up, down, left, right, oh Switch it up like Nintendo

Eddie really loved that last lyric. He thought it was very clever of you because he knew it was about him and how he eats you out.

Say you can't sleep, baby, I know That's that me, espresso.

You and your dancers moved to the beat without missing a step.

I can't relate to desperation My 'give a fucks' are on vacation And I got this one boy

You turn to your husband and wink.

And he won't stop calling

You take a few short steps around to the back of the chair.

When they act this way

You lean in from behind and run your free hand down his shoulder to his chest and back up.

I know I got 'em

You swear you hear him moan.

I'm working late 'cause I'm a singer

You twirl your hair around your finger, then summon Eddie to come closer.

Oh, he looks so cute wrapped around my finger

He gets up and follows you like a puppy as you strut across the stage. My twisted humor, make him laugh so often My honey bee, come and get this pollen.

You flick up the edge of your mini skirt, and Eddie can see the lacy underwear beneath your stockings.

He needs this song to be over so he can finally have you. You've been rehearsing for this moment for months now. Stressing over it and with the baby, you and him have had hardly any time to have sex like you used to.

He's thinkin' 'bout me every night, oh Is it that sweet? I guess so Say you can't sleep, baby, I know That's that me, espresso Move it up, down, left, right, oh Switch it up like Nintendo Say you can't sleep, baby, I know That's that me, espresso

Eddie is back in his seat by the second bridge, and your dancing is driving him absolutely crazy. You know what you are doing. He can see it in your eyes; your mischievous gaze tells him you had this all planned out. You probably faked being nervous just to get him out here so you could seduce him.

Eddie was losing the battle of not getting hard in front of the thousands of fans watching. He couldn't help it; his bombshell of a wife was so irresistible.

Is it that sweet? I guess so That's that me, espresso

Eddie listened as you thanked the crowd. He took your hand and yanked you off stage once he thought it had been enough time for your final bow, letting you soak in this moment before he whisked you away.

“Eddie!” You squeal while trying to keep up with him in your platform go-go boots.

“Gotta have, you know,” he growls in your ear so only you can hear.

“Really baby? I worked you up that much?” You swoon.

After all this time, Eddie still makes your heart flutter. You never thought soulmates existed, but when you met Eddie, all that changed- especially after having his baby. The way he was with your newborn had you wanting to jump his bones before the doctor okayed you for sex again.

The trailer was close but not close enough in Eddie’s eyes. A thin sheen of sweat was starting to form on Eddie’s brow, and he couldn’t tell if it was from the hot Californian sun or the fact that his cock was about to bust through his jeans, and he was trying not to have anyone notice.

“Get out,” Eddie commands as the trailer door swings back. Eddie opens it so hard.

Your team looks startled as you and Eddie enter the small space.

You give them an apologetic look and they place down their stuff and leave you both alone.

“You were perfect up there.” he pulls you in for a kiss. “So fucking proud of you.” He kisses down your neck.

“Mmmm, thank you, baby”

“You’re a goddamn succubus, you know that, Angel?” Eddie shuts the door behind them and locks it before drawing the blinds.

“Is that right? Mr. Munson.”

“Oh, it is, Mrs. Munson.” Eddie pulls you in by the waist for a heated kiss. Still, after all this time, you both were so greedy for one another. Nothing can ever break the bond between the both of you… not again.

“God, Angel, you were a goddamn tease on that stage; you got me looking like a simp.”

You pull back, curious as to where he had heard that term.

“Simp?”

“VR tells me things.” Violet Rose, Eddie's oldest, whom you’ve adopted, is now twenty two.

“Okay, old man,” you giggle, and he walks you back to the sofa in the trailer’s back corner.

“Enough talking, more kissing.”

Your tailored dress, made just for you, was not easy to strip. Eddie was having a hell of a time trying to get out of it, only to groan when he saw your pantyhose as another barrier.

“Why do they make these things so tight.” He grumbles as you giggle at him.

“You weren’t complaining about it ten minutes ago,” you snide.

“Don’t make me put you over my knee.” He smirks.

“No, Sir,” you put your lip.

Finally, once you are out of your garments, Eddie kneels right between your legs.

“Baby, you’re going to hurt your knees,” You push his long hair back. “Why don’t we go -OH - to the couch” Not listening, his lips are already on your throbbing cunt.

The plus from your clit was relieved as Eddie’s tongue grazes it before quickly lapping and flicking at it.

“Oh fuck!” Your legs buckle, and your grip on Eddie’s hair tightens. He growls at the pain in his scalp, but he loves it all the same.

You feel his tongue go down, then to the left, then the right and finally circles your clit.

“Mmmmm, tastes so good, Angel”

“Please don’t stop!”

You feel Eddie's skilled tongue glide through your slick folds before you feel his hands nudge your legs, signalling to open them wider.

Eddie’s thick long fingers pump up into your warm wet cunt until you’re losing the battle to say upright. Your body is hunched over as Eddie sends waves of pleasure through you.

“Mmmm, that’s it, that’s my good girl. Cum for me.” The pads of his fingers graze you g spot each time. He doesn’t stop until he knows you are satisfied.

“That was a big one, baby; singing for me, go, you all worked up, didn’t it?” He stands and leads you to the couch until you’re lying down, legs spread nice and wide for him.

“Mmmhmmm,” you hum as you watch Eddie finally strip.

His body never looked better; he wants to be the healthiest to watch your baby grow up and maybe put another one in you soon.

“You ready for me, sweetheart?”

“Yes, sir, more than ready.” And it was true; it’s been a few weeks since you’ve had time to have sex, and it was long overdue.

All the pent-up sexual tension between the both of you is finally being released when Eddie's hard cock slides into yours effortlessly.

“Fuck I missed my pussy, baby girl.” His head tilts back, and you take the opportunity to suck on his neck, just as you know he likes it.

“So fucking beautiful” his cock pumped in and quickly backed out.

The tip of his dick ring never failed to make you see stars. Already you’re a moaning mess for him, cock drunk, and it’s not even been a minute yet.

“There she is, there’s my good girl” Eddie palms your tit as he continues to thrust deep inside of you. He watches your eyes roll to the back of your head, blissed out by how he makes you feel.

“More” you moan.

“More what?”

“Sir, please, I need you. Baby, I love you. I love you, please, I need it.” You babble.

Eddie's heart swells. He loves you so much he would give you the moon and stars if he could. Hearing you love him, especially when the two of you are like this, really makes him kick into high gear.

He will never take for granted those three words when you say them to him; your past is too painful not to.

“Tell me what you need, baby girl.”

“Fill me.” You pull him down into a kiss. Your tongue explores his mouth.

His hand that was planted on your waist is now travelling lower to your ass.

“This what you wanted, baby? All of your holes filled?” His finger teases your puckered hole.

“Yes!” You gasp.

“I think that can be arranged. Suck” he points his finger at your face, and you take as much of it in your mouth. You suck on it until it’s dripping with your saliva.

“Such a dirty girl, letting me fuck you and play with your ass hole.” His finger slowly glides in, and he pumps it to match the rhythm of his thrusts. “Isn’t that right?”

“Yes, sir!”

“God, I love you.” Eddie can’t help but to fuck you frivolously. The sound of wet skin slapping together filled the thin walls of the trailer.

“Please, please, please.” You were so close you could feel the pit building.

The pressure of his piercing brushing your g spot with every heavy thrust, each shape snap of his hips making him slide deep inside-mixed with the pressure of his finger pressed deep inside of you was bringing you to the edge of bliss.

“You going to come when I tell you to, Angel?”

“I can’t-can’t hold it!”

“Yes, you can,” he growls.

“F-fuck,” you curse him. You can’t hold it for much longer.

“Mmm, that’s right, babygirl. You’re going to listen to what I tell you.”

Your pussy naturally grips Eddie's cock so tight he almost loses it.

“Please, Sir. I want to cum. Please!”

The look in your eyes has Eddie reeling. The way you beg and submit to him, his perfect girl. His perfect wife, the perfect mother to his children.

“Cum” he growls, and you let out a cry of relief.

With your arms wrapped around the back of Eddie's neck, you pull him down into you on instinct. His body weight pressed into you, and your cunt grips his cock so deliciously Eddie is coming with you.

“Shit, baby girl, I think you nearly killed me that time,” Eddie chuckles as his legs give out and his total weight collapses on top of you.

You giggle dumbly as Eddie plants kisses all over your face.

You look up; his face is red and sweaty, but he’s never looked more beautiful.

“That was long overdue.” You sigh with relief.

“You’re telling me,” he chuckles with you.” “Let’s get you cleaned up, mama.”

“You trying to knock me up, Munson?” Deep down, you’d love to have another baby.

“What if I was?” He looks back over his shoulder, catching you checking out his juicy ass.

“Then I’d say we should keep practicing.”

“Wait for real?”

“You’re no,t getting any younger, “ you giggle.

“Oh, you little minx, you’re in for it.” He runs back towards you, lifts you off the couch, and plops you in his lap.

“I’m sorry!” You laugh as Eddie tickles your sides.

“You really want to start trying?” He asks genuinely.

“Yeah,” you nod.

“Guess it’s time for round two, gotta make sure it really sticks.”

Tags: @xxbimbobunnyxx @eddiesghxst @niallerlover8022 @eddiesguitarskills @all-dogs-die

@mimsie95 @mystargirl-interlude @rip-quizilla @munsonology @ali-r3n

@callsignraver @allthingsjoeq @ceriseheaven @amira0303 @mmunson86

@lofaewrites @taintedcigs @take-everything-you-can @lokis-army-77 @hellfiremunsonn

@hellfirenacht @oneforthemunny @lma1986 @mimsie95 @straykeeks

@crazycat-ladys-blog @starksbabie @hellfire--cult @goth-cowgirl-03 @dashingdeb16

@slayyymisha @xblueriddlex @kellsck @localemofreak @goodbyegh0st

@nope-thanks @nabiiturner @neurospicynugget @micheledawn1975 @mikromoon

@corrodedcoffincumslut @http-dilflvr @paybacksawitch

[buckymorelikefuckme]

fri(end)s

bucky barnes x fem reader

words: 3.8k

warnings & tags: **18+ ONLY** friends/roommates to lovers oh my god they were roommates, smoking weed, brief mutual masturbation, frottage (i think that's the right word idfk i'm all out of practice), p in v sex, unprotected sex (don’t do that), reader has nipple piercings bc i said so, slight pain kink? mayhaps? ok pls let me know if i’ve missed anything!

a/n: i made this fic my bitch tonight. this is absolutely not proofread or beta'd, you're just gonna have to take it for what it is, sorry not sorry. anyway, it’s been too long since i wrote for this beefy man :’) i really hope you like it. this was originally very loosely inspired by a scene in what’s your number? but it quickly gained a mind of its own to become what it is now, so. there ya go. title is from the song of the same name by V of bts thank you very much. any and all mistakes are my own. feedback is greatly appreciated and heavily encouraged!!! xoxo

bucky barnes masterlist || main masterlist

Bucky’s introduction to weed was something you’d been supremely proud of.

When the two of you became roommates, you both had been kind of quiet and kept to yourselves at first, which isn’t too unusual, but you noticed that Bucky almost always had a frown etched into his handsome face. A frown that only ever softened after a night out with his friends and, you assumed, a decent hook-up. It never took long for that frown to reappear, though.

You didn’t know what could have been so stressful for him, but you knew he needed a way to relax, and not just for himself, either. The sight of him glumly moving around the apartment—honestly, you’ve never seen someone make fixing a bowl of cereal look so fucking sad—was beginning to weigh on your own nerves.

So, naturally, you thought of asking him if he’s ever tried weed. Somehow, his frown had deepened at that question. He said no, shocking absolutely no one, and then you asked if he wanted to try it. Admittedly, he was a little hesitant at first, but he eventually agreed.

The way his body, all two hundred and whatever pounds of muscle and angst, sank into the recliner like a ragdoll when the high really hit him made you grin. Though, to be fair, you were already smiling, what with you also being high. It was the first time you saw a real, genuine smile from Bucky, and you were immensely pleased to have given him a way to decompress from whatever kept him so tense all the time.

It became a sort of thing for you two. Saturday nights were for getting high, binge-watching Love Island (UK, because you both have class, thank you very much) and raiding the pantry for all the good snacks when the munchies hit. You’d never tell anyone, but those nights quickly became something you looked forward to every week, something you could cling to when your own life got a little difficult. Who knew smoking weed—and on a few special occasions, doing edibles—with your roommate would make a friendship blossom so prettily?

***

After how late Bucky got in last night, you knew he’d be sleeping in and would more than likely have a hangover. So, for this particular Saturday morning, you get up and quietly start gathering your laundry while Bucky snores loudly into his pillow from his bedroom. You were getting behind on it anyway, down to your last pair of clean shorts.

Before you put them on, though, you purse your lips in thought, staring at your pile of dirty clothes. You didn’t want to put on clean shorts with the panties and shirt you slept in last night. It would be smarter to wash them with the rest of your clothes, right? But that would leave you topless, which, you wouldn’t exactly be opposed to it, but you’re not sure Bucky would appreciate waking up to you walking around with your tits out. Or maybe he would? Whatever, it doesn’t matter.

You shake your head to clear your thoughts and then remember that Bucky did his laundry yesterday, and knowing him, he probably left at least some of his clean clothes in the dryer. Surely he wouldn’t mind you borrowing a shirt.

With that plan in mind, you dump your clothes into your laundry basket and make your way down the hall to the doors where your washing and drying units are (a major selling point of the apartment, if you’re honest). Just like you thought, Bucky’s left a load in the dryer, and even some of his button-downs are hung up on the drying rack. You quickly pull your t-shirt off, shivering against the cool air, and reach for one of the hangers, slipping his shirt off of it and onto yourself. For a dress shirt, it’s actually quite comfortable, obviously one of the shirts he wears more often with how soft and a little worn the fabric is. You shimmy your panties down your legs and add them to your pile, grabbing your clean shorts and tugging them on, too.

You make quick work of starting your first load of clothes, closing the doors to muffle the sound of the washer, and head back to your room to do your morning routine. By the time you’re done and have also cooked yourself breakfast, Bucky is staggering down the hall and into the kitchen, hair a tangled nest atop his head and eyes bleary.

“Good morning, sunshine,” you greet with a teasing smile.

He flips you off and beelines for the coffee machine, pouring himself a cup and not speaking a word until he’s downed at least half of it. Part of you is concerned for his esophagus, but you’ve long since come to the conclusion that Bucky’s probably got a thing for pain—both physically and emotionally.

“Remind me to tell Sam he isn’t allowed to bring Natasha on our nights out anymore,” he grumbles, voice rough from both sleep and a long night of drinking. “I’ve never taken so many shots of vodka in my life.”

You hum. “Sounds like my kind of woman, actually.” He cuts his eyes at you, silently judging while taking another sip of his coffee. “Want me to fry up some bacon and eggs for you?” You almost laugh at the way his expression immediately switches to pleading.

The rest of the morning is spent finishing your laundry and putting it all away, even gathering up Bucky’s clothes that he’d left and dumping them on his bed. You’ll leave the folding to him, though; your generosity only extends so far, after all.

Lunch rolls around and you both decide to order takeout from the burger place down the street, Bucky shushing you when you keep insistently whispering for him to order extra truffle fries (which he does order, after you’ve sworn pain of death if he doesn’t) and once it arrives, the two of you settle around the coffee table in the living room, putting on a random movie to watch while you eat.

And of course, when the sun begins to lower on the horizon, you start pulling out your stash and getting everything ready. Bucky’s already got the windows open in the living room to let the smell air out as you smoke, and he also has Love Island queued up and ready to go.

While you smoke the first joint, you make the conscious decision to bake a small batch of brownies for later. Bucky sits on the counter beside you, passing the joint back and forth as he quietly watches you work. Wordlessly, you hand over the bowl and spoon to him after you’ve poured the batter into the awaiting pan. No matter how many times you’ve tried to warn him about salmonella he always insists on licking them clean.

Sometimes, in these moments, you forget how surly he used to be with you. Not that he was ever rude or anything, but he never would have pouted about not being able to eat raw brownie batter before you helped him break down some of those walls of his.

***

“He’s such a dick,” Bucky mumbles a while later, face impassive and tone bland as he refers to one of the islanders of the show, slouching so deeply into the couch he’s practically become one with it.

The high from the first joint is finally kicking in fully, doing its job of releasing every ounce of tension from your bodies. It’s also making your mouth dry and tummy rumble for snacks. Thank god you made those brownies and Bucky unearthed some candy from past movie nights and lots of chips out of the pantry cabinets.

You hum at his comment. “Most men are.”

Bucky turns his head in your direction with an affronted expression that has you snickering. He goes to reply, giving you the sassiest once-over you’ve ever seen, but his eyes doubletake on your torso and he pauses. He stares for a moment.

“That’s my shirt,” he states.

You look down at the shirt in question, of which you’ve worn all day long and somehow he’s only just now noticing.

“Wow, you’re like Sherlock Holmes or something,” you drawl.

Bucky stares some more, and then, “Why are you wearing my shirt?”

“Because I had laundry to do and I needed something to wear while all my stuff was washing,” you say in a “duh” tone.

“But…” He frowns. “It’s my favorite.”

You snort inelegantly. “Bucky, you literally have, like, at least four other white dress shirts.”

“So? What, I can’t have a favorite one just because I have more of the same color?”

“Christ,” you say on an exasperated exhale. “I’ll give it back before bed, okay? I don’t wanna move right now. I’m scared I’ll bump into stuff again.”

Bucky huffs a laugh at that, which turns into a full-blown giggle fit that is contagious. Soon after your shared laughter dies down, the conversation moves back to the illicit love triangles among the islanders. You trash talk the couple that Bucky likes, just to see him get riled up and rant about how they’re the most real couple of the season and everyone else is just jealous. He gets red in the face and pouty when you remind him that this is a heavily produced show about pretty people getting a chance to get famous for being pretty people by hooking up with each other and playing stupid games that mean nothing in the grand scheme of it all. Really, it’s quite cute.

To placate him, though, you get a second joint rolled and let him take the first hit.

***

Turns out this second one hits you rather harder than normal. It feels like your head is a balloon and your neck is the string tethering it to the rest of your body. Everything feels much more sluggish compared to all the other times you’ve gotten high with Bucky. Somewhere in the depths of your hazy brain you remember that you’d gotten a different brand this time around; perhaps that’s why.

On the tv, the islanders are getting ready for bed, and once the lights go out in their room, some of the couples engage in some serious heavy petting, lifting their comforters for a semblance of privacy. The sounds start next, sighs and low moans, and it all begins to settle into your subconscious. Between one lazy blink and the next, you realize you’re… actually kind of horny. It’s not enough for you to really pay attention to it, not at first, just a little sprinkle of it, a tiny twist in your core that briefly has you pressing your thighs together then relaxing again.

But then the arousal builds up inside you so slowly and easily that you don’t even realize your hand has apparently grown a mind of its own and found its way down your shorts. You inhale sharply at the touch of your fingers against your clit, lashes fluttering as the sensation registers. The sound gains Bucky’s attention from where he's been lounging on the opposite end of the couch with his head tipped back and eyes closed.

They’re not closed anymore. Out of your peripheral, you see his head shift in your direction, feeling the weight of his stare like a physical thing. Your mind is both connected and disconnected from your actions, half-aware that this is probably not the smartest thing to be doing, that you’re absolutely crossing a major boundary. Touching yourself in this way in front of your roommate, your friend, is so not normal.

Yet, for some idiotic reason, you leave your hand down your shorts, continuing to lightly pet at your clit, neediness rising steadily. Even though you know he’s watching—and suspiciously quiet—you can’t help but let your fingers slither down to where you’re beginning to drip to gather some of your slick and bring it back to your clit and swirling your fingers at a sedate pace, sighing as your nipples tighten underneath your shirt.

Bucky is as still as a statue, gaze honed in on the movement of your hand, on how your thighs ease open more and more the longer you play with your pussy.

It takes very little time for your eyes to wander over to the man just a couple feet away, and to then notice and fixate on the growing bulge in Bucky’s sweatpants. The weight of his stare is almost a physical thing and you swallow roughly as you think about what he might look like, if he’s at all how you’ve secretly imagined when you’re alone in your bedroom, in much the same position as you are in now.

His hands creep towards his thighs and smooth down the expanse of them and back up, slowly, over and over, like he’s teasing himself. Like he’s teasing you. Your fingers don’t stop as you lift your other hand to tweak and pinch at your nipples through well-worn cotton, a tiny noise slipping past your dry lips.

Bucky pulls the hem of his shirt up, exposing part of his toned stomach and only hesitates for a split second before he lowers the waistband of his pants, pulling his cock out and matching the pace of his strokes with the pace of your fingers. The head of his cock is pink and precum makes it shine under the low light of the lamps in the living room.

You bite your lip as your arousal increases from the sight alone, and you decide to follow his lead, just a bit. You whine from the loss of stimulation when you remove your hand to shimmy your shorts down and off your legs, letting them fall to the floor carelessly. And now, Bucky has an unrestrained view of your glistening cunt as you sink two of your fingers inside yourself and use your other fingers to rub all around your clit. It has you gasping, eyelids threatening to close through the pleasure that sparkles throughout every vein in your body.

It’s good. Amazing, even. And it’s only making you want more. Bucky, it seems, feels much the same.

“C’mere,” he rasps, tone leaving no room for arguing, never mind that you wouldn’t have argued anyway.

You sit up on the couch, knee-walking over to where he’s still in his slumped position, never pulling your hand away from your clit because it feels like you’d cry if you did. Bucky curses under his breath and lets go of his cock to firmly grab you by the hips and tug you onto his lap. Your pussy ends up aligned perfectly with his cock, and you both shudder as you begin gliding back and forth across it, small movements that only increase the suspense of what likely comes next. He meets your eyes, red and glazed over from both the high and the toe-curling feeling of his cock along your wet center.

The kiss, when it happens, tastes like weed and the peanut M&M’s you both were snacking on just a little while ago. Bucky's tongue licks into your mouth like he can’t get enough, nips at your bottom lip to hear you whimper, gets a fistful of your hair and pulls and guides you until you’re pliant for him.

He knocks your hand away from your clit, but before you can complain about it he’s nudging the head of his cock against your entrance and you’re gasping all over again, grinding sloppily as you try to get him inside you. He finally sinks the head in and you allow gravity to aid you in taking the rest of him, moaning brokenly and high pitched at the stretch of him inside you. Bucky groans deep in his chest, hands clutching your waist like a lifeline as you slowly circle your hips, getting used to the feeling.

You stay like that for a few minutes, your breath and Bucky’s mixing hotly between you, and then you finally start fucking yourself on his cock. He grunts when you clench around him on the downstroke. You decide you like the sound, and you really wanna hear it again, so you repeat the action, moaning when the grunt is accompanied by a curse and his fingernails biting into your skin.

It takes what feels like ages for you to realize your thighs and knees ache from riding him, the weed making everything feel like it’s floating, including yourself, but Bucky sees the furrow in your brows and the shaking strain of your legs, and in the next second, he’s got you both moved from the couch to the floor. Time ticks on glacially slow like molasses as you stare up at him whipping his shirt off from where you’re sprawled on the carpet, your limbs shifting lethargically when he spreads your legs to better fit himself between them.

He fucks you hard, but not fast. you’re both much too high for anything fast, yet it still feels like your heart is going to pulse out of your chest, rabbiting away like you’ve run a marathon. Bucky buries his face in your neck, mouthing at your skin while he thrusts almost lazily.

Suddenly, his large hands encapsulate your hips, fingers pressing into the fleshiest parts of them as he sits up, getting his knees under him so he can rest on his haunches. He keeps your ass in his lap and your legs spread on either side of his waist. It makes your back arch and hips tilt up into a position that has you shuddering and sobbing when he begins to grind his thick cock deeper into you.

“I could stay buried in you for hours,” he mutters.

He reaches for the throw pillows on the couch and puts them under your hips, and then he fucks into you so hard it steals the breath right from your lungs, your mouth hanging open on a silent cry. His thrusts are sharper now, angled to perfection and making your toes curl so hard you fear them cramping and body jolt when he glides all the way back in. You gasp when Bucky rips open your shirt (his shirt, your mind helpfully supplies) and sends the buttons scattering across the floor. Those will be a bitch to find and clean up, but that’s a problem for much later.

“Fuck,” he grunts when he sees the piercings glinting in your nipples. “I fucking knew it,” he continues, squeezing each of your breasts in his hands and pinching your nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, making you gasp again, pushing up into the sensation.

“Knew—“ You cut off with a whine when he pinches harder. “Knew what?”

“You walk around here wearing those goddamn cropped tank tops as tight as possible with no bra. Thought I was going crazy when I saw what looked like piercings underneath them,” he confesses as his hands travel back down to grip your waist, never losing his rhythm while he pulls you down to meet his thrusts.

At the sight of your tits bouncing with the movement of his hips, he groans, gravelly, his top lip curling as he grits his teeth and squeezes your hips so hard it hurts, and it only adds to your pleasure. With the way your skin is tingling, your pussy fluttering around him nonstop, you’re not sure if it’s because Bucky is fucking you that well or if it’s the weed. It’s probably both, and you have a split second thought that you’ll just have to test that theory once the high wears off.

It’s almost ironic, you think, how wet and messy your cunt is compared to how dry your mouth feels. It probably doesn’t help that your jaw seems to be permanently slack as you’re unable to stop your gasping inhales, only to exhale sounds you might be embarrassed about if you were clear-headed. Alas, your mind is a lot more focused on the way Bucky is splitting you open and carving a space inside you all for himself.

“So much better,” you whisper absently, fingers clawing at the carpet beneath you.

“Better than what?” he wonders, shifting to grip under your knees and push them up, changing the angle.

You cry out sharply, writhing uselessly in his hold. “My imagination,” you whimper.

Through bleary, tear filled eyes, you glance up at him just in time to see his lips pull into a boyish smirk.

“Mine too,” he confesses and sends you reeling.

You whine and reach down quickly to rub your throbbing clit, your whole body jerking as your pleasure mounts higher and higher. Bucky moans as he watches, stare trained on where you’re joined. His speed does pick up then, the slightest bit, a shudder wracking his frame as you clench down on him, head tipping back and exposing the long expanse of his throat for a brief moment before he suddenly leans over you, letting your legs fall into the cradle of his elbows.

“Won’t you be good for me and cum?” he asks, breathless, hips never letting up.

You open your mouth to reply but all that comes out is a strangled cry of his name, your fingers keeping their pace as your climax swells until it overflows, bursting like a firework and pleasure like you’ve never felt before sparks through every vein, muscle, and bone within you. Bucky curses in such a way it would make a sailor blush as you pulse around him. The sounds of your orgasm and his thrusts meeting your hips are the filthiest things you’ve ever heard, and it doesn’t stop for several moments, dragging on and on. It leaves you trembling and shaking and trying futilely to gather air in your lungs as he refuses to let up.

With great resolve, you bring your wet fingers away from your sensitive clit and up to his panting mouth. He groans at your taste, licking and sucking on your fingers as he chases his own release.

“Please,” you whisper, tears finally escaping your lashes and trailing down the sides of your face, and that seems to be his undoing.

Bucky moans, something high and broken, fucking into you rough enough that you’re worried about carpet burn. But then he pauses, gasping as he finally lets go and rides out his high.

Your hand slips from his mouth and falls to the floor like a deadweight. The only noise in the room now is the both your and Bucky’s harsh breathing and the television still playing that stupid fucking show. Bucky doesn’t move right away, of which you’re very thankful, because you’re not ready to feel the emptiness you know is coming, and it feels nice in a weird way to have him buried in you.

“Fuck,” he exhales, breaking the relative silence.

It makes you giggle, a small thing that turns into something uncontrollable, and when you manage to look at Bucky, he’s grinning in a dopey way that sets you off even more.

This is definitely something the two of you will have to talk about when you’re both sober, but like the buttons, that can be handled later. Although, something tells you it’ll all turn out just fine.

[brattyspence]

safe and sound | s.reid

summary: in which post-prison!spencer finds himself so comforted by your presence that he can’t help but fall asleep whenever he’s around you. (anyone else remember that tiktok trend abt how frequently falling asleep around certain people is a sign of someone feeling safe? no? just me?)

tags: fluffy! post-prison!spence (but its not rlly mentioned in detail)(just reminding u all that man is Traumatized capital T), gun mentioned, sleeping… that’s it i think

a/n: hey idk how to follow up my last fic so here is this??? its a drabble!

word count: 651

(a very short) masterlist here

You had been sitting on your couch, laptop open on your lap as you typed away the last bit of paperwork you needed to complete for the night. The TV was playing softly, some random documentary channel you’d put on hours ago. The room was dim, only the soft lighting from the table side lamp illuminating the space.

Even though your relationship was relatively new, you were at a point where simply existing in each other's presence was an acceptable reason to hang out. You didn't need to be doing something, you were just content to exist in each others orbit. 

In recent weeks, you’d observed a new phenomenon; nearly every time he came to your apartment, he would fall asleep within an hour. 

Not that particularly you minded. Sometimes you found yourself tangled somewhere in his arms, the book you had been reading slipping from your fingertips as you also fell asleep. Other times you were so busy with work and laundry and whatever else you were up to to notice that he had been sleeping at all. 

You shut your laptop and placed it on the coffee table in front of you. It was late now, nearly 11pm. 

“Spence…” you reached over to ruffle his hair softly, hoping to stir him. “It's past 11.”

He made a slight whine of protest before fluttering his eyes open. You watched him squint at the digital clock on your TV stand. “Ugh. I'm sorry. I’m going.”

“I wasn't kicking you out,” you reply. “I just thought maybe you didn't want to spend the night on my couch.”

He sat up, rubbing his eyes for a few seconds. “Yeah, that's probably not very smart,” he replied, a slight smile creeping across his lips. “I don't know why your apartment makes me so tired.”

He did know, in fact. It was no secret that the past year hadn't been kind to him. Prison had left him changed, and touched every part of his life irreversibly, including his own home. It was stupid, he knew. He was a fully grown man, a trained agent who owned a gun and knew how to use it, and he still could never feel as safe in his own apartment as he was in yours. You were the only person in his life who didn’t see him during that point in his life. You hadn't watched him change and expected anything from him. Being in your presence was the only time there was no weight to bear.

“It's more than fine with me,” you said. You shifted across the cushions enough to tuck your head against his shoulder. “You can sleep on my couch whenever you want. But you should probably consider the bed instead, if you don't want back pain for the rest of your life.”

He chuckled softly, sliding an arm around your side to settle you against him. “I’ll consider it.”

The air grew still again. You closed your eyes, savoring the feeling of his fingertips tracing lines up and down your side. Eventually you felt him place his cheek against your head. You were certain you’d also succumb to the temptation of sleep that had been creeping up on you.

“You should just stay the night,” you mumbled. 

“We both have work tomorrow, honey.”

You huffed. “But we’re so comfy right here. Please?”

“Maybe I can just get up extra early tomorrow to have time to go home…” he said. “Just because you asked so nicely.”

“Mhm. Do that.” You nodded. “And next time just pack a bag. Or I'll make space for you in my closet. Whatever will get you to stay.”

You felt him laugh quietly before he removed his arm from its position around you. He stood up before you could protest further, offering his hand to you. 

“Come on. Let's go to bed like adults.”

You groaned, accepting his hand anyway.

[cosmosis]

MOVED TO @seratopia

miguel o’hara x reader (fluff) - can’t sleep

you just can’t sleep without your husband next to you (i hope my spanish was okay)

Maybe it’s your cycle, maybe its just the fact that you’ve been literally working all day for the past 3 weeks, but you’re tired as shit. The bags under your eyes are almost purple, your entire body hunches over like a zombie when you walk, you barely have time to think nor speak to anyone else besides your husband. The entire building is lowkey worried you’ll snap one day. 

Even Miguel is worried. Much how you like to do to him, Miguel’s been constantly ushering you to rest a little, borderline bribing you with nice takeout or some kisses to get you to sleep. But, to no avail. your sleep schedule is genuinely fucked. 

You’re cranky, hungry, and sleep deprived. 

At the moment, Miguel doesn’t really know where you are. Considering your current state, he thinks you’re out on a mission, or at least somewhere in the office. 

He’s already tried walking through the entire office just looking for you. He checked the cafeteria, gym, hallway, etc. muttering, “Where th’fuck are they?” But, you were nowhere to be found.

So, Miguel tries something different. He pulls up his watch, scrolling down to a button that he really only should be using for emergencies, but to Miguel, this is an emergency on its’ own. 

He presses the button, and suddenly his entire face is broadcasted to every single watch in the building. Dramatically, the emergency siren turns on, and all the spider-people are on their feet. 

“If anyone sees my wife, please report back to me asap. Tell her to come see me, I can’t find her anywhere.“

The whole office can see Miguel rub a hand over his face, visibly both annoyed and tired. Everyone starts looking back and forth, tilting heads and making sure that you didn’t just happen to be around somewhere. Once the camera turns off, though, nearly the entire building starts chuckling. 

It’s crazy how much Miguel’s face utterly lights up when he sees his watch ringing without your contact photo. Literally in a split second, he presses the button, opening up a microphone icon. 

“Miguel?“

Ugh, he just loves the sound of your voice. 

“¿Si querida?“

He hears you groan, possibly the sound of bedsheets shuffling, and it pulls at his heart. You’ve been so miserable lately, he just wants to see you back to your happy self again. 

“Come home, now.“

Just the tone of your voice alone put a worried frown on Miguel’s face. (He never likes to admit how much of an impact your emotions have on him.) An ugly, anxious swarm starts to build at the back of his head, making him impossibly nervous. 

Luckily, Miguel knows what to do. 

“Of course, hun. I’ll be there in 10.“

And he turns the watch off, sighing to himself after. He’s a little bit nervous now, fearing as though he did something to upset you, or that you had something serious to talk about when he came home. 

Every step Miguel takes to your shared home brought him closer and closer on edge, worry and theory swirling through his mind. His brain ping-ponged through every single possible reason why you’d want him to come home, especially in such a cranky matter. Maybe you were just tired? Maybe it was because he accidentally gave you a raisin bagel instead of a everything bagel?

By the time Miguel was at the door, his heart was beating erratically in his chest, hands the slightest bit shaky. Stepping inside, Miguel instantly beelined for your shared bedroom, gently opening the door. 

He sees you shuffle around in the covers, his heart secretly swooning. You’re just so cute when you’re half asleep; needy and cuddlier than usual. Already at the bedroom door, Miguel practically rips his shirt off, kicking off his pants and making his way over to where you lay. He presses a soft kiss to your forehead, gingerly swiping strands of hair off your face. 

“What is it, hun?“ He coos.

You toss and turn, barely mustering a frown onto your face. Your eyes are half-lidded, tank top almost falling off your shoulder until Miguel readjusts it for you. 

“Can’t sleep without you.“ You mumble, slowly scooting yourself over and draping your arms towards him. Miguel practically swoons, cooing and leaning into your touch. How could he resist such an offer?

“Awh, baby.“ 

He tangles himself into bed with you, breathing the biggest sigh of relief. It wasn’t what he thought it was. You just wanted snuggles. Miguel takes it upon himself to spoil you extra, ghosting his touch over your back and kissing the darling skin of your temple.

Like the thousands of times he has before, Miguel tangles his legs into yours, kneading his fingers into the skin of your raised leg.  

Within a few minutes or so, Miguel feels you knock out like a light, tiny puffs of air escaping your mouth while you fist the sheets like a baby. He sighs, staring at you for a few moments while you sleep. Affectionately, he rubs his knuckles against your cheek, smooching your forehead. 

Miguel pulls a blanket over the both of you, knowing very well that by the time you’re awake, it’ll be completely on the floor. Readjusting his position, Miguel doses off to sleep, allowing himself to completely let go of all the stresses he holds. 

After all, he can’t sleep without you either. 

© 𝒄𝒐𝒔𝒎𝒐𝒔𝒊𝒔.

[solar4seekstron]

TFOne!D-16/Megatron x Cybertronian!Reader One Shot: Conjunx

Here’s another One Shot with my bbg D-16. This one just cam e into mind so of course i got to writing. I’m pretty proud of this story and I enjoyed writing for only D. I hope you all enjoy!

TW/Tags: Fluff/Wholesomeness at beginning, D is precious and silly, angst after cut after wholesome romance, Implied abuse (mild), kidnapping, toxic relationship at end. Might make part 2? We’ll see what my brain throws at me at 2 am lol

You and D only really hanged out when Orion was around. Not because D was embarrassed but because Orion was usually busy doing something else. You were seen as a quiet bot and also cool by D. You always stood up to the superiors knowing you weren’t out of line. And despite being a few inches smaller then D. You were strong! D won’t admit it but he was defiantly attracted to you.

One day when getting off the train, Orion did something stupid again. Elita dragged him away to do a late mining shift as punishment. Later D was alone and worked on punching the punching bag in the mining quarters. The others left him be, knowing his temper without Orion. He was so focused he didn’t notice you came up behind him. Knowing he might try to punch you if you startled him. You descide to pick him up by the waist strartling him “Hey you glitchin bot! Put me dow- Oh its you.” You put him down. He looked at you no longer startled.

”Sorry D didn’t want you to punch me if I didn’t pick you up.” You chuckled.

”You know you could’ve handled my punches right?”

”Yes but I would’ve had to punch you back.”

”…..Good point.” He pointed his digit to you.

”You mind if we talk?” D almost froze as his smile shows to have strained a bit as he looked at you. “It’s nothing bad.” You chuckled. “Come on lets go where we can see the Iacon 5000 sign.”

“O-ok.” You two walked and once up there you finally spoke.

”So D I’ve been thinking. We’ve been good friends for a good while and was hoping. Since after all this time-“ You continue to speak as his head only started to overthink.

Was so lost in thought of you possibly leaving him that he barely heard you. He then heard you say Conjunx out of the blurr of what you’re saying. But that word brought him out of his thoughts “What you say?”

”D-16 will you be my Conjunx?” You were on one knee. (Thought it be cute shud up) D was dumbfounded until he realized and his face no longer showed a blank expression but had a cute little grin appear on his face. He then shakes a little. Little sounds of metal being heard. You reached a cervo toawrds him once you stood, a bit worried “Uhhh D??”

Then out of no where he hugged you and started spinning, you around as he shouted in cheer and joy. You were now dumbfounded and put your cervos on his shoulders gently patting. “So…..that’s a yes?” He then holds you up with his hands holding your waist.

”YES!!!!” I have been waiting for so lo-“ He looked at you once he stopped. He can tell you were trying to hold in a laugh. “Uhh”

”Guess tonight will be a night to never forget.” You both chuckled and embrace each other. Both of your foreheads touching as you two closed your eyes.

D then lets out a soft sigh as he gently lowers you. You standing once more. Your arms around his neck and his around your waist. Your foreheads still touching as you two stared into each other’s eyes.

”I love you Y/N”

”I love you D. Mine. Always and Forever.”

You both leaned closer together and as your lips both finally touch. The sparks in your chests soon glow. Shinning around you as you two stay in the moment together with the sign of Iacon 5000 behind you both in the dark city.

———————————————————————————

(Last chance guys skip this part if you don’t wanna feel pain)

Megatron sat in his throne as he thought about that night. It is truly the night to remember. After everything. He lost his best friend, his home, and after realizing he has been lied to for all his life up to now. He just couldn’t lose you. The high guard was third to him. His new cause is his new goal but you. YOU are the one thing that truly belongs to him.

As he sat there, his head resting on his fist as he watched the high guards having a meeting. He listened, only glancing down to see you every so often as you rest your head and one of your cervos against his chassis.

Your optics closed as you sat on his lap. You had a cog and a decepticon logo on your chassis. His arm around behind your back and cervo resting on your thigh. Your other cervo that wasn’t on his chest resting on top of his on your thigh. You had a few dents. Proof from when he forced you to come with him when sneaking into the city and take you with him. After some time he had to discipline you to behave. Same thing when he forced you to stay still as the Decepticon logo was put on you. You are His Conjunx. You should really learn to trust him. He even threatened to hurt you more if you chose to break the bond from that very night. Ever since then you’ve been tired and miserable. You always felt his feelings through the bond. But you can still feel that love he has for you. Only it’s much darker now.

You listened to his spark beat as you two stayed silent. Starscream and Shockwave started to argue as Soundwave sat there with a data pad. You’d slowly open your optics. You had a little rust under your eyes. Not very visible if far enough.

You cried. You cry every night after Megatron goes to recharge. The meeting eventually ends and Megatron dismisses everyone. Once everyone was gone he looked down at you. Finally lifting his head so he’s more straight sitting up. Moving his cervo to now hold your chin. Making you look at him as his now red optics narrowed and stared down at you. “Hungry sweetspark?” His voice was darker and rough. It still makes you flinch when he speaks to you.

You didn’t answer. You only shook your head as your optics remained dim. He leaned his head lower a bit. His face only inches from yours. “Almost Obedient…hm…”

You two remain silent for a moment.

“Mine. Always and Forever.”

He closes the distance. His lips connecting with yours once more after so long. His lips now cold as he closed his optics. You closed yours a second after.

But you didn’t return the kiss. His cervo moving from your thigh to the back of your head. Pushing your head a bit closer. Your kiss is no longer the same. His kiss. Is no longer the same. Megatron wasn’t Your D-16.

So….. y’all like 😗? If you wish for a part two please let me know.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hiiii. I hope you are well. I would like to request Cregan Stark x female!reader where reader is sleeping in her chambers and has a nightmare and walks the halls late at night going to Cregan’s chambers for comfort but is also hesitant because the two haven’t really spent time together since they were put into an arranged marriage. She stands in front of his bedroom door while trying to decide if she should knock or not but before she could Cregan opens the door after hearing movement. He spends the night trying to make her feel safe. Thank you 😊

I’m rusty and out of practice after not writing for hotd for so long but I hope this makes up for it 🦦🐿️

You couldn’t go back to sleep, the nightmare had awoken you so suddenly and violently that the idea of falling back to sleep disturbed you greatly, so instead you took to walking the foreign halls of your new home in Winterfell.

In truth it took some time for you to get accustomed to the change in climate, that and the change from your old rather relaxed and light attire to thick furs and multiple layers to keep warm, but you were reassured by your parents that you’d sooner or later come to love the endless landscapes of snow with your arrange marriage to Lord Cregan Stark.

Now Cregan Stark had been nothing but considerate and generous towards you, a honourable man amongst immature little boys as your father would put it, and his words have never been more true as house Stark was well known for their loyalty and their dedication to their duty. However it was due to Cregan’s commitment to his duty that left you with little to no time to get to know the man who had already garnered quite the reputation for himself. You did not blame the man for doing so, it was admirable to see a man do whatever it took to protect his home compared to those who dared called themselves men back home; the very same ‘men’ who’d abandon their wives and children for a silver of something…younger and more beautiful.

And yet you found yourself coming out of a self induced daze and stood outside of Cregan’s own personal chambers, almost as if your body had stopped it’s ceaseless wandering and brought you to the one person who could bring you comfort on its own accord, but yet you failed to find the strength to even lift a hand to knock on the heavy door as new thoughts of whether you’d be interrupting or annoying him with your presence; This was the only time where you wished you spent more time getting to know Cregan as you didn’t know the type of man he’d be when you needed him for moments such as these, moments where you’d be frightened and out of your mind with increasing worry, even over the smallest of things.

Would you be a burden to him? Too much for him? Would your actions tonight alone would bring about the end of the arrangement? All these answers so much more ran rampant within your head as you began to second guess whether or not this was your smartest of decisions, going and seeking comfort from a man you knew far too little about on a personal level over something as simple as a nightmare, you’ve contemplated this for quite a while to the point you felt stupid and childish that you didn’t notice the noise you had made already brought Cregan out of his slumber.

‘Are you alright m’lady?’ Cregan asks upon noticing how conflicted you looked as you shifted your weight on your feet and fiddling with your hands.

‘My lord,’ you gasped, ‘what’s you doing up at such time as this?’

Cregan tilted his head. ‘Well I heard shuffling outside my door and I came to see what it was, only to find you in deep thought.’ He then reached out to grasp your hand in his securely as his eyes softened. ‘Is there something the matter? Something wrong?’ He then asks in a whisper. ‘Anything I can do to help my betrothed rest easier?’

You tried to smile as authentically as you could in hopes of dissuading Cregan from going out of his way for you and let out a laugh. ‘There’s no need, I just…needed some air and familiarise my new home.’ You told him but it was obvious that he wasn’t buying it as Cregan looked down the hallway before pulling you into his chambers and closing the door behind him. ‘Now that there is no possibility for anyone to intrude, would you like to tell me what’s bothering you m’lady?’

‘I-‘ you tried to speak but found yourself falling short of an easily believable answer, especially not when his eyes seemingly read you like an open book.

‘There is no need to keep up appearances, not with me,’ Cregan says as he gently guides you to a nearby chair, still holding your hand, as though deep down he knew that you needed to be in some form of constant contact with him to bring yourself back to reality. ‘Now tell me what’s gotten you so distraught?’ He knew something was wrong but didn’t know how to handle the situation without you telling him what it was that was disturbing you. Now Cregan understood that you might not be on that level of comfortability with him just yet to open up about your innermost thoughts and feelings, he can just hope that him being here with you was proof enough to show that he deeply cared for your well-being, and that with time you’ll come to him freely and without fear that he’d cast you and your heart aside.

You didn’t say anything at first, still having your concerns on how he’d react once you tell him, but the other side of your mind was telling you to take this an an opportunity to make up for the lack of time to get to know each other, so you opened your mouth and the words that you’ve been trying to put a stop poured out seamlessly. ‘I had a nightmare and I thought that a walk would help but it seems as though at the thought of you, my feet brought me to your chambers on their own accord.’

Cregan smiled softly as he squeezed your hand, running his thumb across it. ‘Is that so m’ lady? You thought of me in your moment of need?’

‘Of course,’ you tell him, finally squeezing his hand back, feeling yourself growing more confident and secure within his presence, ‘It was as though deep down I knew you’d never scoff at my worries, and instead bring me comfort as though it were instinct, but my mind tried to trick me into believing that you wouldn’t and I would’ve believed them had you not answer the door when you did.’ You admitted and felt a weight come off of your shoulders, allowing you to fully relax within Cregan’s presence that felt akin to the comforting weight of furs being draped over your shoulders, comforting, warm and grounding.

‘And I never would scoff at your worries because your worries are my worries m’lady.’ Cregan tells you as he knelt before you, resting his free hand against your cheek, watching as you melted into his touch, sighing in content. ‘Now tell me how I can be of help to you be rid of this pain?’ He then asks softly as though speaking any louder would somehow offend you.

‘Pardon me if this seems too forward my lord but,’ you paused to take in Cregan’s handsome features before looking down at your intertwined hands, this was the union that your parents wanted for you and now that you were here with him, you didn’t want to leave for your lonely chambers, ‘would you allow for me to stay here for the night, held in your arms until the nightmare is a memory long forgotten.’ You finished, looking into his eyes as they gleamed with happiness and love.

‘Only if you are comfortable with that m’lady.’ Cregan said and you couldn’t help but chuckle as his thoughtfulness towards you, the same thoughtfulness that suggested sleeping in separate rooms until you felt comfortable enough to share a room with him.

‘Of course I do,’ you tell him with a real genuine smile, leaning forward to rest your forehead against his as you squeezed his hand, ‘I wouldn’t have suggest it if I didn’t.’ You added and without hesitation Cregan brought you into his strong arms as he carried you off towards his bed, laying you down gently as he join you before pull in you back into his arms again, softly guiding your head into resting against his chest.

Cregan turned out to be a lot warmer than you had originally expected but you couldn’t help but snuggle further against him, making him smile and press a featherlight kiss to your head as he tightened his hold on you. ‘I promise to keep your nightmares at bay as you deserve only the sweetest and kindest of dreams to greet you at the end of every day.’ He promises to you as he pressed another kiss to your head, making you smile widely as you couldn’t help but feel as though you were already living within a dream with how impossibly perfect Cregan was.

‘I feel as though I am in one already my lord.’ You tell him sleepily.

‘Then I shall try my best to make you keep thinking that m’lady.’ Cregan replied as you soon feel asleep against the man who had quickly claimed your heart.

[yikesmary]

PREGNANCY CRAVINGS — choi seungcheol x reader

summary: where being pregnant comes with its struggles, and one of them just so happens to be the random pregnancy cravings. so, in the middle of the night, you try to sneak out and go to the convenience store nearby and buy something to satisfy your craving. however, your husband wakes up and insists to accompany you—even if he’s barely awake.

notes: the convenience store i've pictured in mind are like the ones i've seen in korea. but i don't really address where this occurs in, so use your imagination!

disclaimer: i'm not pregnant or have been pregnant so everything i write about pregnancy is most likely not true and therefore shouldn't be taken as fact (unless it's true, but make sure it's validated by an actual medical professional).

join my taglist!

“Oh, Cheol, you absolute asshole,”

You tried using all your strength to push your husband’s sleeping figure away from you, the heat coming from his body was too much for you. Trying to move him away was an obstacle, especially because he was working out more as of lately.

But finally, you had managed to cause enough noise in trying to move him that Seungcheol finally moved himself, scooting more onto his side.

You looked down at your pregnant belly and told your unborn child, “All that effort I put into moving him, and all he has to do is move himself?”

Huffing, you stood up and went to your closet, looking for an appropriate shirt to change into in order to go to the convenience store. In hindsight, you could probably have used your phone to order something, but the problem was you didn’t know what you were craving.

You knew that the baby was craving something, but didn’t know what. So, you decided that you were going to walk to the store and let the baby decide while walking through the aisles.

You rummaged through your clothes before going through Seungcheol’s side of the closet. As the pregnancy goes on, you’ve found yourself wearing more of Seungcheol’s clothes since they seemed to fit you better and were comfier than the maternity clothes that you never wore.

"What are you doing?"

You turned around in surprise to see Seungcheol standing, looking quite comfy in his pajama pants and a random old shirt. Being the one for dramatics (which you probably got from your husband), you put your hand on top of where your heart was. "You scared me! I think I almost gave birth then," you said.

He rolled his eyes and then rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. "What are you doing?" He repeated.

"Oh, I was gonna go to the convenience store. The baby wants to eat something," you told him.

"Can't the baby wait for the morning?"

"The baby wants to eat, now."

"Then why don't you order something?"

"The baby doesn't know what to eat," you sheepishly said.

He looked at you for a moment, before reaching behind you to grab a hoodie. "Fine, let's go," he said, turning to leave yours and his' bedroom.

"I'm fine on my own," you insisted.

"You're pregnant and it's two in the morning. I'm coming with you," Seungcheol said, before yawning.

"Cheol, you're barely awake enough to be coming with me. You need your sleep," you gently said, but he was stubborn.

"I'm suddenly hungry too, so I'll just come with you to buy some food," he said.

Once you and Seungcheol entered the convenience store, you were greeted by the quietness of the place and the single employee that was stood behind the cash register.

You looked around the aisles while your husband followed not too far away from you. "Choose what you want, I'll be paying," he instructed and you didn't bother to argue, considering he always insisted on paying.

Wandering around, you grabbed your favorite snacks, a couple ramen cups, and a few of Seungcheol's favorite foods. Realizing that you should've gotten a basket, you looked at Seungcheol, who seemed to be amused with your current predicament of full hands.

"Don't laugh, it's not funny!" you whined, but he only seemed to amuse further with your comment.

Wordlessly, he left the aisle to grab a basket. When he returned with the basket, you dumped everything in it, and he carried it while you walked around the aisles one last time.

After making sure you didn't want anything else, Seungcheol went to the register, with you waddling behind him.

"Was it worth it to ruin our sleeping schedules for this?" Seungcheol teased, and you nodded with a mouthful of ramen noodles.

He shook his head but opened his mouth and you put a chopstick with ramen noodles on it in his mouth. "Not bad," he said and you beamed at his compliment.

"Is the baby satisfied with the food?"

"Yep, and the baby is finally tired enough to sleep," you said.

Waddling to your bedroom, with Seungcheol not too far from you, you settled into your bed, and closed your eyes.

"Sweetie?"

"Yes, Cheol?"

"I can't sleep now,"

[papajohnnyspizza]

Stress Relief with Jeonghan

Summary: You're having a terrible day and Jeonghan decides to make you feel better.

category: fluff, smut

au: Established relationship, Jeonghan x f!reader

wc: 1.9k

a/n: was supposed to be 500w but I got carried away lol.

Warnings: smut, (breastplay, p-in-v, spanking, fingering), reader has female anatomy and uses she/her

The first thing Jeonghan hears when you burst through the door of your shared apartment is a pained yelp. It only takes a second for him to respond, leaving the romantic dinner he was cooking simmering away on the stove as he rushed to your crouching figure in the hall. 

“Y/n?” He placed a hand on your shoulder and started rubbing soothing circles. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” You stood up with a groan, he could see there was a prominent coffee stain on the front of the new blouse you had just bought. “My stupid heel got caught in the doorframe and I twisted my ankle.” You reached for your injured foot and started not-so-gracefully pulling your heels off. “Because of these stupid shoes,” you flung the heels rather forcefully on the floor. “that I wasted my money on!”

Jeonghan could see what was happening from a mile away, your boss had been putting your entire team under major pressure to finish your latest project in record time and it was driving everyone insane. He thought he would make a nice romantic dinner tonight to help ease your mind, but it looked like you might need something more serious.

“I made your favourite.” He said, watching you move into the kitchen and pause. Breathing in the delicious smell of his cooking.

“Oh,” Your moan from the smell was borderline pornographic, and Jeonghan took the opportunity to wrap his hands around your waist from behind and place a few kisses to your hair and neck. “Jeonghan what did I ever do to deserve you?”

He just shrugs and moves to turn the stove off, you take a seat at the table. The food is perfect, if Jeonghan does say so himself, he got the recipe exactly how you like it. You go over the horrible events of your day, not sleeping enough the night before, traffic making you late, your coworker spilling their entire cappuccino on your outfit, realising you had a typo in an email you sent to the entire company, and finally your boss pulling your team aside just before work finished to let you know he needed to bring your deadline forward to next week.

“I don’t know how he expects us to sleep until then,” You said, rinsing your plate in the sink. “I can’t get my mind off of work, it's driving me crazy.”

“I could run you a bath?” He suggests.

“I don’t want to clean the tub, and besides it’s getting late.” You let out a dejected sigh, leaning back against the counter, and despite your mental anguish Jeonghan can’t help but think how sexy you look in your little work skirt and blouse- even if it’s stained.

“What are you staring at?” Your voice knocks him out of his trance, and he suddenly gets an idea to try and cheer you up.

“You need a way to relax?” He slowly starts moving towards you, eyeing you like a predator does its prey.

“That would be nice.” You fold your arms in front of your chest, accentuating your chest and Jeonghan’s mouth begins to water.

“Well I happen to know an excellent form of stress relief,” Jeonghan’s arms cage you in against the counter, leaning over you until you could feel his breath hot against your cheeks. His hands move to your hips, squeezing lightly. “Would you like to try?”

Your mouth feels suddenly dry, and it takes a moment to finally nod your head as his hands untuck your blouse from your skirt.

“Tsk, Tsk. I need words baby,” Jeonghan’s nimble fingers start unbuttoning the bottom of your shirt, while his dark, bottomless, brown eyes stare into your own, as if he’s trying to memorise your face at this exact moment.

“Please, Jeonghan,” You whine, his hands brushing lightly over your breasts. “Please fuck me.”

Jeonghan pulls away slightly, and you’re almost about to scream when you think he did all this just to rile you up after the day you’ve had. But instead he reaches for one of your hands, raises it to his face and gently places a kiss against your knuckle. “Of course, all you had to do was ask.”

That’s when Jeonghan smashes his face against yours, his hips painfully pushing yours against the edge of the counter. You groan as soon as you feel his warm lips on your own, finally able to let out some of the pent up energy that’s been building up inside you all day. You shrug the blouse off your shoulders and Jeonghan throws it somewhere on the floor. His lips begin trailing down your neck now and you let out a gasp, your hands snake into his long hair and you pull lightly, receiving a deep groan in return.

His hands begin skimming over your bra, mouth sucking at a vein on your neck and leaving your mind completely blank. All you can think about is how good his fingers feel caressing your breasts, roughly pulling down your bra so he could attach his mouth to one of your nipples. Your back arches, pushing further into his face and one of his hands begins circling around your other nipple. Afraid you’ll hurt him, you remove your hands from his hair and grip onto the counter instead. Nails digging into the surface as he moves his mouth from one nipple to another, suckling and kissing and even biting, you notice his hips beginning to grind into you. Your hands reach for his waistband without thought, but your wrists are immediately captured by his hands and held tightly in his grip.

“What do you think you’re doing?” He asks. His pupils are blown wide, lips red and swollen, hair mussed up from your ministrations. He looks gorgeous, you can’t take your eyes off him. The cool air of the room heightened from the saliva he left on your chest, it almost hurts.  

“I wanted to help you.” Your voice feels tiny in the silent room, Jeonghan’s eyes light up and you’re not sure whether to be excited or frightened.

“You do?” Jeonghan’s hand comes to trace along your jawline. His thumb comes close to your mouth and you automatically open your lips, thinking back to all the times you’ve been in a situation like this before. But instead he just chuckles slightly, closing your mouth for you. “Turn around.”

You do, you lay your front against the cool kitchen counter while you hear Jeonghan shuffle out of his own clothes. He doesn’t bother taking off your skirt, pushing it up until it’s bunched up around your waist. He pulls your panties down and lets them fall to the floor while you open your legs a little wider for him. For a moment he does nothing, and you feel pathetic again being left on the edge like this, but then you feel his cool fingertips running up along the inside of your thigh before stopping at the fullest part of your ass and squeezing. 

“You’re so wet baby,” He chuckles, leaning down to press a kiss right in the centre of your spine. “Is all that just from me.”

“Yes,” you groan into the counter, he moves a finger inside your walls, thrusting lightly and curling to meet your sweet spot.

“So sweet,” He removes the finger, hands gripping firmly on your thighs. “Are you going to be a good girl and take whatever I give you?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, sir!” You’re voice is breaking, unable to take any more torment. “I’ll take it all.”

“Good girl.”

Jeonghan sheaths himself entirely inside you in one go, pulling out almost to the tip and slamming himself back inside again. You’re not sure what to hang onto from this angle, Jeonghan’s cock perfectly dragging along your walls was making it difficult for you to think. You lost all control of your voice, letting out small pants and moans with every thrust of his hips. You didn’t even have the space, or the energy, to try and meet his hips. Giving him full control and allowing yourself to just turn your mind off and relax.

One hand moves from your hip and you don’t even notice until it’s circling your clit like your body is a toy. Your back arches with the feeling, you try to stave off your approaching orgasm but it’s futile against his fingers and his cock. You feel the heat simmering in your stomach and you know that Jeonghan can tell you’re close because he won’t let up. The coil in your stomach turns tighter and tighter. Jeonghan moves behind you like a man possessed, grunting and moaning in time with his thrusts. His fingers circle harder around your bud and suddenly the dam breaks and you cum, clenching down hard around Jeonghan and moaning loudly. He continues moving, much slower now, gentle movements sending you into oversensitivity. You can’t see his face but you can imagine what it looks like, face contorted in pleasure from the feeling of your tight walls pulsing around him.

“Hng, Jeonghan,” Your hand reaches behind you to try and still his movements. “I’m still sensitive.”

Jeonghan grips your arm, reaching for the other one and bringing them to rest in the dip in your back. “Y/n do you remember what you said earlier?”

“I would take everything you gave me-” You were interrupted by Jeonghan speeding up the pace of his hips, arms pinned firmly behind your back. Already you can feel the coil in your stomach building up again.

“That’s right, and you’re gonna do it,” He reaches a hand down your front to start rubbing at your clit. All you can do is let out a mixture of hiccups and cries as you clench down again, another wave of pleasure ripping through your body. Your forehead falls against the counter, sweat dripping down your face, you feel Jeonghan’s movements behind you getting sloppier, both hands squeezing around your hips again.

“Where do you want me?” His voice is shuddering, you know he’s not going to last much longer.

“Inside me.” Is all you can manage. Jeonghan’s hips still as he bottoms out inside you, and you can feel his warm liquid filling you entirely. It takes a moment for his breathing to calm, but eventually he manages to step away from you. 

Your body feels boneless but somehow Jeonghan manages to guide you over to your shared bed, laying you flat on the soft bedding and placing a small kiss on your forehead.

“Sure you don’t want a bath?” He says, laying beside you.

You laugh, and then you remember that you really will have to clean up before you go to sleep, which means you’ll need to clean the tub too, and you’ll have to go to bed late. You sigh realising the wonderful, relaxed spell you were under is now broken.

“What’s wrong?” Jeonghan asks.

“Oh, nothing,” You shrug, sitting up again to go to the bathroom. “Just thinking about work.”

You’re about to leave when Jeonghan grabs onto your arm and pulls you flat against the bed, crawling over your sprawled body.

“You’re still focused on that?” He tuts. “Guess we’re not done here yet.” His fingers enter inside your sopping pussy again and the sensation makes you gasp and reach for his wrist.

“Jeonghan I already came twice, I can’t take any more!”

“Oh yes you can,” He says, pistoning right into your G-spot. “And you will. You’re taking everything I give you tonight Y/n. And I guarantee you, you’re gonna sleep like a baby tonight.”

[37-drc89]

the way things go; lee minho

❁ nothing warms your heart more than his presence.

trope: roommates to lovers.

genre: comfort, slight angst, work exhaustion, happy ending.

summary: finally understanding that your failure doesn't scare him away.

warnings: blood, mention of overprotective parent, family problems, let me know if i should put anything more in here.

word count: 3,7k.

masterlist

note: this is very much my first fic here, like, ever. i'm still green in tumblr, any links and mostly making posts look good, but i'll eventually master it. i look forward to seeing your opinions and things i can change or make better, i'll appreciate every comment. and, please remember that english is not my first language! if you see any typo or something doesn't make sense, please inform me! thank you:)

Coming back home on Friday after whole week of working your ass off really feels like a walk of shame. You feel like everyone passing by can tell how awfully you did at your workplace today. And they wouldn't be wrong, the amount of scolds your boss threw in your direction through past few days is worryingly numerous.

Whether it was missing out on paper work your boss asked you to do for him, because you were so sure the deadline was set on the day after, or accidentially knocking off of your desk whole cup of hot, sweetened tea that later on you had to scrap off of the covering, under the strict eye of the middle aged man that scared you so much. Especially with the amount of misfortune that chased after you lately, like it was glued to you.

Cringe makes its way to your face. You're shuffling your way to your apartment, not really in a hurry, feet lazily dragged after you as you didn't even have any strenght to properly lift them off the ground. You most likely look like you've been partying for at least three nights in a row, but you can't find it in yourself to care about it. Not now.

Seeing the building in which your apartment is placed have never felt so relieving and you can feel your legs giving up under your weight just at the thought of splashing on the bed and dozing off. Vision of passing out on the sidewalk doesn't seem appealing to you, so you rush yourself to the door, typing entrance code and walking into the elevator, stairs not even crossing your mind. Your tired body slumps itself against the wall as you patiently wait to get to the 6th floor, finding relief in having something to support yourself on. Finally getting to the door you can't help but feel excited, tapping your feet happily just at the thought of making up every hour of sleep you've missed this week because of your busy schedule. You slide the door open and the very first thing reaching your ears is eager meowing, three fur balls appearing at the entrance immediately. You can't help but smile, kneeling to give each of them gentle head pat before taking off the coat and shoes. This truly felt like a bliss, like you've just slid off a bag of stones off your back. Sigh leaves your mouth, heading to the kitchen you turn on the kettle as your tea craving grows with every second. Soonie appears next to you, sitting at the table just across from you. You've grown so friendly with your roommate's Minho's cats that neither you nor him have any problem with kitties occupying places people normally wouldn't let them sit on.

Then you freeze for a second.

You look at Soonie.

Soonie looks at you.

Your brows furrow and the cat goes back to whatever he was doing previously.

Fuck.

Minho is coming home today. He's been away for past five days due to his business trip, that was probably exhaustion fogging your mind enough to forget about this. He's coming back today. And your apartment looks like a bomb has been detonated right in the middle of it all. You can't risk him seeing how messy you got, Minho is always the one to put stuff at the right place, making his bed no matter in how much of a hurry he's in, always the one to do the dishes and basically make everything look perfect. You can't see him disappointed in you for such an easy thing, he'll think you don't even gather your life together. Not like you do, but it's nothing in his business, you shouldn't become another one of his problems. He's just your roommate and the only thing you share and should take care of is apartment that is now in complete mess. You can blame it on your lack of time, barely spending any time at your place recently, but that won't help in current situation.

Quick glance at the time, 4:23 pm, you reach out for your phone to scroll up the conversation with your friend to make sure how fast you have to act.

He's back in town at 5 pm. Could this possibly get any worse?

You scold yourself internally for letting this whole situation happen. But you don't have time to think about this now, and as you turn off the kettle you speedrun to the livingroom, gathering scattered clothes from all around the place. You blame it on Monday when you got up so late you didn't even have time for brushing your hair and of course, the shirt you were looking for was nowhere to be found. Out of all things, it was the one you needed that day.

Then you pick up empty cans of soda, bottles of water and cups of coffee from the table and quickly throw them into the dishwasher. You blame it on Tuesday, the night you realised you have to write that fucking paperwork you got scolded for missing on Monday. So you sat there for hours, head empty, taking breaks only when your tired tears started wetting your pages, scared that all your miserable efforts will be ruined.

Rushing to Minho's room you pick up blanket and pillows from his floor. You blame it on Wednesday, the day you were already on the edge of breaking down and giving up on your job. Even though the boy is only a roommate for you, you've grown so used to his presence you started finding peace in it. Even after the worst day you knew that someone will always be there waiting at your apartment to serve you cup of hot chocolate and bowl of ramen, to take your turn of folding laundry or just listen to how appaling your day was. But he wasn't home and it left you all to yourself which was never the best idea. So, seeking for at least tiny bit of comfort, you slept on his floor. That sounds so fucking stupid and weird when you think about it now, but just the aura Minho left in his room made you feel a bit closer to him. Reminds you of every time he invited you over to play some online games for 12 year olds or spill any tea that happened at his work. Though, you never wanted to interfere his private space, so sleeping in his bed didn't even cross your mind. Floor was just sufficient for you, and you let your tears flow that night, just as much as you needed it. You know he would understand. He might seem cold to others, but you know he would. He already unwrapped his side of him to you letting you see that truly, inside, he's softer than anyone you know; It's all for Soonie, Doongie and Dori. They really do get the best of Minho.

Going back to the kitchen, you gather empty boxes of instant ramen, snacks and every ready shop food that you could possibly find at the convenience store. You blame it on the whole week of rushing, not even having time to eat a proper meal. You can feel it down your stomach, body demanding anything that could properly feed it and give it any strenght to function as it should be functioning. Honestly, you can't recall the last time you didn't feel sick. Lump in your throat was your loyal companion since a week ago, constant urge to throw up not leaving your body even when you were falling asleep and you know you'll have to appreciate normal, nutritions food more.

You run around the apartment holding a wet towel, wiping quickly every mirror hung on the walls as you know nothing pisses Minho more than fogged glass. So you try your best to do it carefully, just like he does it. Reaching the last mirror placed in the front hall you eagerly wipe it, aware of your lack of time. Then it all happens at once.

Shitty food, lack of sleep, liters of coffee and ungodly amount of stress feel like kicking in all at once, like it's been gathering in your exhausted body for the whole week just for this one moment that you needed to be fucking careful.

Vision blurry, feet suddently tripping over itself, mind going blank just for a second, but second is enough for you to try holding yourself onto the small table placed right under the mirror and shaking it so hard when sudden thump reach your ears, followed by loud sound of shattered glass. You don't want to look. Because you're fully aware of what just happened. You don't want to look but you do. Eyes landing on the remains of now broken vase, water all over the floor, flowers that were resting inside it now cut in half and completely soaked.

And it was Minho's favourite vase. The first and the last thing he always glanced at when leaving or coming back home, admiring its beauty, pretty patterns, unique shape and the prettiest flowers inside. Flowers that he got for his 25th birthday that passed not so long ago from his dearest best friend Jisung. Flowers that he was so happy to receive, first thing he did after coming home that day was showing them to you, proudly, ranting about how they perfectly suit the room. And you ruined it all.

Your body slides slowly on the wet floor, water soaking your pants on your knees and you support yourself on the palms of your hands not to completely fall into the mess. You feel small pieces of glass ripping open your delicate skin of your hands, small streams of blood making their way to the floor, mixing with spilled water but you couldn't care less. Elbows start to shake under the weight of your body, shoulders tensing and your head falls, your own quiet sobs reaching your ears. It quickly turns into uncotrollable groans and whines, tears now flowing down your face with no end, nose already full, loose hair stick to your now completely soaked cheeks.

And you blame it on yourself. You could seek for anything to put his all on, like your boss, for making you feel useless for not even managing to do your fucking job properly and assigning you more work than anyone else in your department. Or your mother for not teaching you how to manage your time and how to function on your own, her overprotectiveness during your childhood and teenage years showing so often that you never even got any time to learn adult life before stepping into it. But you know it isn't their fault, no matter how hard you try to think that it is. You let yourself into this situation. You let yourself be in the state you're currently in. You didn't try hard enough to make yourself a decent person. There's no one you can blame but you.

Your endless cries must've muffled the sound of door cracking open, eyes reaching only feet of your roommate that was now standing at the entrance. You couldn't look up, even if you wanted to, you couldn't look Minho in the eyes. Not when he's witnessing your failure and the mess you made out of something so dear to him.

Meanwhile Minho stood there, body frozen, gazing at your tiny figure splashed on the floor, shoulders shaking. He doesn't even notice the crashed vase at first, your current state drawing all his attention immediately to you.

He doesn't give himself any time to think much longer about what's happening in his front hall right now, dropping bags he's been holding in his right hand and suitcase on his left and appearing at your side the second after, kneeling by your vulnerable body on the floor.

"Hey, hey.." Minho lightly lays his hand on your shaky back, carefully caressing it to soothe you. "Easy now, I'm here."

The only respond he gets is your dramatic, loud sob ripping out of your heavy chest. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry Minho... Is the only thing you could get out of yourself, followed by another set of pretty disgusting, wet cries.

"Are you hurt? Let me see your hand, please," your roommate asked quietly not to scare you after noticing red coloured drops beside your knees. Gently, he took your harmed hands into his and studied small pieces of glass stuck in your skin. "Let's get it cleaned, okay?"

His hand makes its way to your waist and he stands up slowly, careful not to make any sudden moves that could put you in pain. He shuffles you to the bathroom and helps you sit on the toilet seat and starts preparing alcohol and wet towels.

You feel pathetic.

Not only you ruined his special item, something so important and beautiful, but now he has to take care of someone that caused all the damage. You feel helpless once again, like you couldn't do anything fucking right for once. Once.

Your caring roommate starts removing glass shatters from your wound, his tongue sticking out a bit from the corner of his mouth, fully concentrated in his task. He knows that if his hands twitch even a little bit, he might hurt you even more, and let me tell you, his hands are trembling. He can't recall a situation when he saw you in such state.

You always seem tough, tough against any misfortune that meets you. You surely talk to him when you need some shoulder to lay on, about your worse days and he's cautious enough to notice when you're exhausted. But he's never seen you at your breaking point, starting to believe you don't have any. Yet you're here, in front of him, not even being able to speak properly. He can't help but feel kind of relieved at the whole situation knowing that your hard, protective shell cracked a little bit, letting him see something he's never seen in you before. Weakness.

"This might sting a bit," Minho informs you as he presses alcohol soaked paper to your wound. Whimper leaves your mouth at the unpleasant feeling and you hang your head down. He quickly wraps bandage around your hand and clasps it between his warm palms.

"Hey, you don't have to worry about that the hall. I'll take care of it, okay?" He tries to lower himself, kneeling in front of you, so he can get a better glimpse of your puffed face. You shake your head and straighten your back, looking at him with serious expression.

"No." You sniff, "No, I broke it, I broke something so important to you and it's my fault. I'll clean it. I'll buy you a new one, the same one, I promise Minho."

His hands make their way to your back, slowly, eyes remaining on you for any sign of discomfort. When you sneakily lean into the touch, Minho pulls your body entirely towards his, clasping your weak figure into his arms and sways you left and right, wanting to feel your muscles relax in his embrace.

"What's wrong, hm? My roommate senses are tingling," his voice muffles itself by pressing his mouth against your shoulder, "Talk to me, y/n, please?"

"I had the worst week ever here, without you."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

You just shake your head no, holding onto his waist tighter than ever. You feel him nod. His calm aura pulls you in completely, feeling like walking into hot building during snowy, cold winter. Your cheeks warm up, pressing right below his neck, his body warmth transferring itself to you.

"It's lowkey weird." You choke out, coughing right after because of how stuffed your poor throat felt.

"What is?"

"You comforting me while I'm sitting on a toilet seat."

You manage to let out throaty chuckle to light the atmosphere up, however, you can't help the warm stream of tears flowing right after.

"Want to move it to the livingroom?" Minho pulls out of the hug slightly, setting his gaze at your red face again and your eyes make their way to the floor. You still haven't looked him in the eyes, not even once, as you're scared of the wave of guilt that will follow. As if the one you're feeling right now isn't enough. You feel like a child scared to get shouted at by their parents.

Minho crouches down in front of you and you hum in question, brows furrowed. He only gestures with his hand for you to hop onto his back, already positioning your legs on his hips. You groan but don't protest, you know how Minho is and you know fighting him is hopeless. Wrapping your arms around his next securely and glueing your chest onto his back, you melt into the warmth of his body. He stands up, feeling your breath tickling the skin behind his ear and smiling to himself, noticing how it got much steadier than it was before. He leads both of you out the bathroom and again, the sad view of Minho's favourite vase on the floor, not really looking any similar to vase anymore, hits you, shoving another wave of guilt through your nerves. You close your eyes and rest your forehead on your roommate's shoulder.

"I'm truly, so, so sorry Minho. I never meant to do this, I was just trying to make the place look presentable for you and it ended like it always does." the words left your mouth as quiet squeak, taking another deep breath before speaking again; "Yet you still have to clean the mess I did, like you always do. I don't deserve it, I don't deserve you. I failed being your perfect roommate."

"Who said I wanted a perfect roommate?" he asks as you reach your shared couch, carefully laying you on it then sitting by your side, facing you. "You think I'm mad at you, but I'm not. I've broken like five vases in my life and none of this was anything I planned, just like you."

You finally find some strenght in yourself to raise your gaze and lock it at his round, dark eyes. And he's right, no matter how intensively you look into them, you can't find even a tiny bit of anger in them, they sparked with understanding and you find yourself feeling bad at even thinking someone this precious could get so mad at you. They were so pure you could see your ugly, messed up reflection in them. Before you could start thinking about this again, his eyes squinted a little bit as corners of Minho's lips curled upwards in the most beautiful, sincere, affectionate smile you've ever seen. You only realised that his hand was placed on your trembling knee when you felt his fingers caressing it softly, sending warm shiver through your whole body.

"What about the flowers? You loved them..." You turned around to take a glimpse of the mess once again but Minho quickly grabbed your chin with only pads of his fingers and made you look back at him. "I'll take over from here, you get rest now."

Just as he was about to stand up from the couch you grabbed him by his sleeve and almost agressively pulled him right into your arms, crashing in the tightest, breath taking hug as you truly couldn't believe you had him by your side. Just when you thought you crossed his boundaries by that sudden action and started to loose your grip on him, he dragged you right back to him like he was waiting for this moment to happen. His heart pressed to yours, he definitely could tell how fast and heavy its beating right now. Both of yours eyes closed, you just enjoyed this such intimate moment, very first one since you've moved in together. Neither you or him dare to make a move in fear of ruining this beautiful scene.

"Thank you," you murmur into his neck, so quietly you're not even sure he heard it. "only you can endure me as your roommate. How are you not tired of this?" Chuckle leaves your mouth but you quickly tone it out in case he responds, Well, I am actually tired.

"Because you're the only one that can endure me, too." He pulls out of the hug, though he doesn't move too far away, being so close to your face you could feel his minty breath on your nose. "I guess it's just the way things go."

Next thing your brain processes is his perfect lips landing on yours in swift motion. Suprisingly they're not rough, not even a little bit, they're so soft you barely feel them at first. Your heart goes up your throat for a mere second, dropping back down the moment he caress your cheek gently with his warm hand, now covered in the tiniest layer of sweat caused by the adrenaline. When your body finally understands what's going on, you lean into him completely, hand going up on the back of his head, tangling into his soft, dark hair and Minho takes is as a sign to continue, now pressing his lips onto yours with more force, making sure you feel them properly. A sigh of relief leaves both of your mouths and you smile into the kiss. When you eventually just slightly pull away from each other, faces still close, you notice new emotion making its way into his eyes, overtaking the rest as he studies every part of your face carefully. It's love. His eyes are full of love. Its so intense like it just have been freed from his chest after months of hiding in the deepest corners of his heart.

There's still so much you don't know about him and there's so much he doesn't know about you, but the gate has opened now and there's no turning back. You don't know what any of this means yet, but you can think of it tomorrow. Or in a month. Or in a year.

For now it's just you and him. And that's what matters the most in the world.

[multific]

In the High of the Feeling

Mattheo Riddle x Cat Animagus!Reader

Warning: smut, tiny blood play, a hint of breeding kink

Summary: Much like for many animals, heat season was right around the corner for you as well.

A/N: This one has a little Omegaverse feel to it. I did try and make it different but there are similarities. Both parties are +18! 

A/N: This can be read as part 2 of this piece.

Being an animagus had its ups and downs.

Your loving and helpful boyfriend, Mattheo was definitely a bonus.

He would help with any difficulties or tried his best to help. No one in the school knew, none of the students beside him at least.

It hadn't been that long since the two of you got together and he realized your secret.

This will be the first spring the two of you will spend together and you were... for a lack of a better word, nervous.

Extremely nervous.

You knew what spring brought.

It brought a new start. Flowers bloom and animals... yeah.

It was rare for an animagus to be so tied to their animalistic side. But you were.

And with spring, came your heat.

A week where you would have the strongest desire to have offsprings.

Ever since you hit puberty, the feeling was there, but lately, as you got older, the feeling got stronger.

And now, that you had a boyfriend, you knew your body and mind will go crazy, you needed to stay away from Mattheo and you needed a way to explain this to him to the best of your ability.

But how do you explain to a horny guy that he needs to stay away from you because for once it will be you who wants to have sex all the time? With the purpose of getting pregnant.

You couldn't let that happen, you were too young.

You understood it was only nature, but still... no.

"Babe? BABE!" the yell made you snap back into reality as you looked at your boyfriend sitting across you by the table. "You have been distracted lately. Do you have another man or something?"

"Nothing like that... it's-"

"Is it a cat-thing?" he asked as he popped a slice of apple into his mouth.

"Actually, yes." you looked around, making sure no one was there to hear you. "Spring is coming." you said with a low voice and he made a face then a sudden realization. You hoped he would understand.

"You are right! More Quidditch!" you wanted to slap him.

You pinched the bridge of your nose as you let out a long sigh.

"No." you said not opening your eyes to look at him.

"No? Then what Princess? You have to go home for the break or something?"

"My heat is coming." you said, straight up, since you knew dancing around the subject won't help.

"What's that?" you finally opened your eyes and looked at him.

You shouldn't have expected for him to understand.

"Spring brings new life. Flowers bloom and animals..." his eyes grew big with realization. "Professor McGonaghall said she would give me a potion to keep my... needs at bay but apparently the very flower that you would need blooms after my heat would be over so..."

"I'm too young to be a father." was what he ended up saying.

"So am I. It's nature, unfortunately, I can't do anything with it. I will have the week off, I already spoke with the teachers. I have so many things to do. I just wanted to tell you to please just... for that week stay away from me. I wouldn't be able to control myself and... I wouldn't want to force you."

"First of all, you would never force me. I do understand your point now, but I'm also very curious. Tell me more about it. What happens? Does it hurt? What do you do? Do you touch yourself?" you could see in his eyes he was genuinely interested.

"It hurts, unfortunately, yes. But it's a very different pain from like a wound. I would say it's like a heartbreak and a broken leg at the same time. I always have a little area that I put together so I can stay there. I put soft things... pillows, blankets and- Oh that reminds me, can I borrow a shirt from you? Your scent might help me." he only nodded as he listened, he was more interested than ever. "So, yeah I just... I do touch myself, yes. It helps with the pain. I'm just worried about what might happen this time."

"Why?" he reached out on the table and held your hand in his. "What would happen this time?"

"Well, now I have you. I have a partner and my body knows that. So I'm nervous about what would happen this time."

"I see. I will give you the shirts. Many of them. When does this... heat start?"

"You can't really pinpoint it out, it's like a period but it should be this weekend/next week that it starts." you smiled at him, happy he didn't find it disgusting or anything.

"I will bring you my clothes tomorrow then."

"Thank you." but he didn't know, you thanked him for another reason.

The next morning you woke up with a strange feeling. Your foggy mind didn't even realize what was happening. You found yourself thinking more and more about your boyfriend, more specifically, him naked.

You were thankful that last night you at least build your comfort place on your bed.

Your entire body felt hot and your mind could only think of one thing.

The dirtiest images flashed in your mind.

You only ever slept with Mattheo a couple times, but now it was all you could think about.

How soft his skin was, how you could run your fingers over his scars, letting him know that it was okay.

How he smelled and felt like.

How amazing he made you feel as he just kept rolling his hips with a steady rhythm. 

The images flooded your mind as your imagination ran wild.

You wanted him to ravish you. 

To completely fill you up and have your own litter. 

You were going insane. You let out a soft moan when there was a knock on your door.

"Princess? I brought the shirts I promised." his voice, his nice voice, his intoxicating voice.

You felt your ears and tail pop out, you felt your eyes change.

You were gone. Your most basic instincts took over as you walked to that door and opened it.

He was saying something, you saw his gorgeous lips move. But you were far too gone to hear it.

When he looked at you, confused, you pulled him in and locked the door behind him, you pulled on his hair, kissing him with all you had.

Your cat-like teeth managed to scare his lips as you now tasted a little blood along with the tobacco he always smoked.

Your hands found his tie as you began to take off his clothes one by one.

"Hey, hey, slow down." he said as he pulled back as he laughed a little.

"You have too many layers." you said, not even looking at him as you began to undo his belt. That is when he jumped back, keeping you at arm's length.

"Why are your ears out?" you put your hand on his forearm as his hand was on your shoulder.

"I need you." you said with the most intoxicating voice Mattheo had ever heard. He did hear you say those words before. He did make you say and moan many things but this. this was different.

Your voice was filled with lust.

"Oh shit, this is it right? Your heat. Fuck." Mattheo looked around, he knew, he needed to go. NOW. "I-I have to... go." he said but by the time he finished you were completely nude in front of him. His eyes were glued to your body.

Men are such easy creatures.

"Matty, I need you." you said again as he looked into your eyes. 

"Okay... Okay. I-I have condoms."

"Noooo." you walked over to him, you put your hands around his neck as your mouths were only inches apart. "I need you to fill me up. I want to feel it ooze out."

He grabbed your waist with both hands.

It was all too much for him, he felt himself getting harder by the second.

"I'm so wet Matty, please." he had to gulp, he looked away from you and noticed the arranged pillows on your bed. While he was thinking you took the opportunity to make your final move.

He watched as you walked away from him and towards your bed. With your back to him, you knelt down on the bed and moved to lay down with your ass up in the air. You reached under your body and with two fingers you spread your lips, showing him your wet cunt. Then you moved one finger in and dragged it down, letting out a moan as you touched your clit.

"Please, Mattheo." is all you needed to say as you looked at him with your head on the bed.

He lost.

Thankfully he still had the mind to put on the protection.

"Nooo. No condom." you said but he didn't hear you, his focus was on your pussy. 

He jerked himself twice before grabbing your hips and slowly pulling you back, filling you up.

Just what you have been craving for.

You both let out a long moan as he filled you fully. You were finally a little satisfied, feeling his balls slapping onto your skin as his huge cock filled you up to your stomach.

He started off slow, keeping his focus as he felt your tail wrap around his leg then move up his back.

He needed to have control.

You were in a very vulnerable state. He had to remind himself.

But it seemed almost useless because every time you looked into his eyes, his common sense failed him.

Especially when he felt you beginning to move back onto him with rough movements.

"Fuck." he said as he watched you fuck yourself on his cock. "Shit, Babe." but you were a moaning mess. 

If he was far too gone, you were beyond.

"Wait." he said as he almost came, in his nearing high, he grabbed the base of your tail which made you yelp in surprise. "Sorry." he said, knowing how sensitive it was, he ran his hand up your spine. feeling the curve in which you were laying.

He loved it.

He loved you.

You patiently waited for him to began moving again, and when he did, oh how magnificent it was.

His movements were fast, you were sure his fingers will leave their marks but you didn't care.

All you wanted is to feel him fill you up.

Then he grabbed your hair and pulled back on it a little. The room was filled with the noises of skin slapping against skin and moaning.

His name was all you could say as he groaned and moaned. 

Once again you moved your tail around him as he moved you, laying you down onto your stomach, as he put a pillow under it, raising the place he wanted to reach the most. Your fingers entangled with the sheets as he moved back inside you. His two hands by your side as he continued to ruin your pussy.

"So good." he said. "So fucking good. Look at me." and you obliged, looking at him with your cat-like eyes as he was nearing his end. 

"Matty, I'm close." you said as you started to feel the familiar knot in your belly.

Upon hearing that Mattheo knew he needed to set a pace he can keep so you can cum.

He focused on you and you alone, he moved and kissed your shoulder as he felt you tighten.

"Come for me, Kitten." he whispered into your ear as you came with a loud cry. Or, you would have but he put his hand onto your mouth, he felt your sharp teeth gaze along his fingers but he couldn't care.

You felt so tight, warm and wet.

And feeling you cum around him did the trick.

He came with a small shake and a moan as he emptied himself into the condom. However, his instincts did the trick. After, he made long movements as if he was filling you with his cum. Slow and deliberate movements with his softening cock. 

It felt like heaven.

You finally came to your senses a lot more but when you felt him placing kisses along your spine, you knew he wanted this as much as you did.

You seduced him, but you didn't feel guilty about it. 

It seemed that only for a moment he left you but soon he was laying by your side as he put a blanket over the two of you.

"I could get used to this." he said as you cuddled into his side. "You are so sexy."

"It comes with the heat too, I put off a scent which is attractive for men."

"Nah. It was more than that. You were sexy before. We should have done this earlier, I didn't know you could take it so rough."

"I love you." you said as you closed your eyes, ready for a nap before you need your next round.

"I love you too, Princess. I think I could get used to this. Every year, a week where you cannot keep your hands off of me."

"Two." you said with a very drowsy voice.

"Huh?"

"I have heats twice a year. So, two weeks."

Mattheo looked at the ceiling. 

He knew he will need a lot more condoms, he suspected you will wake up within an hour or so and he needed to be ready.

But he can definitely get used to this.

Twice a year.

Taglist: @fleursirvart @greenarrowhead @thisismysecrethappyplace @sincerelyfan @theoneanna @aestheticsandmarvel @rororo06 @castellandiangelo @destynelseclipsa @spilledinkindumpster @capsiclesdoll @puknow @alwayshave-faith @alex12948 @lxdyred  @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek @praline357 @trshngyn @avengers-r-us @violet-19999 @top1bbgloak   @manduse   @jacalineiscomingforyou  @mandoloriancookie @noname2246

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

DO NOT STEAL, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS  

[m00nl1ghts1vt]

Positive - Chris Sturniolo

Part two - Mama Pairings - bf!Chris x fem!reader Summary - When the whole house comes down with the flu, you have a hard time recovering which makes Nick jokingly plant the idea of two pink lines in your head. Warnings - established relationship, mentions of abortion, angst, mentions of pregnancy, fluff, crying 🥲 W/c - 1591 A/n - Hey!! Sorry I haven't posted all week 😭 Still working on getting into my inbox, it won't let me see anything on my phone or computer☹️ Also I just want to say thank you sooo much to everyone who has been interacting, I'm almost at 200 followers!!🫣 Masterlist Current Series - City of Love Top Liked - Pierced

Tears prick at your eyes as you look at the pregnancy test in your hands, the word 'pregnant' etched across the little screen. Your chest heaves up and down, and your heart thumps so fast you feel like it could shoot right out of your body. It was nearly two in the morning, your boyfriend was still awake playing a game on his PC, so you knew you had to keep your panic at a minimum.

The last few weeks, the whole house had been fighting off the flu - first Matt, then Nick, finally hitting you and Chris at the same time. Luckily, it cleared up quickly for the boys but not so much for you. Your sore throat and stuffy nose were gone but you could shake the constant state of nausea you were in ever since the seasonal stomach flu took over. Earlier in the day you were telling Nick about how you still felt sick to your stomach, but your other symptoms were gone, and he wittily came back with, “imagine if you’re pregnant.” Nick’s half sarcastic joke made your mind wonder. It wasn’t like you to not keep track of your period, but with the last couple months being jam packed that it slipped your mind. Pulling up your Flo app and noticing you were five days late; you made sure to add a pregnancy test to the weekly grocery order that the boys put you in charge of earlier in the day.

Somewhat in denial, you pushed off the idea of taking the pregnancy test all day, not telling a soul because you were sure it’d come out negative. That’s until the possibility of the test being positive ate away at your brain. 1:48AM and here you were - on the bathroom floor with your knees pulled to your chest, wide eyes, and trembling hands. Squeezing your eyes so tight that you feel a slight burning sensation when you open them. You hold your breath, hoping and praying the test you pinched between your fingers somehow magically changed from positive to negative, but you were wrong. It was positive.

Hot tears stream down your face, a small sob escapes your lips, and you quickly slap a hand over your mouth. You were in the hallway bathroom which was probably the worst place to have a private moment, it was the bathroom all the boys shared. Mentally scolding yourself for not using the half bathroom in the front of the house, you pull yourself to your feet and turn on the sink to splash water in your face. The raw reality smacking you, knowing only you and your baby knew of its existence made your head spin to the point you were dizzy. Despite rarely using protection, pregnancy wasn’t something you and Chris had talked about. He never talked about the future. If you were being completely honest, the dynamic your relationship with Chris had been more of a ‘go with the flow’ type of vibe. The idea of walking in Chris’s bedroom and telling him that you were pregnant with his child made your gut churn. You grip the countertop tight, taking a few more deep breaths in an attempt to fight off the nausea and lightheadedness taking over your body. When the feeling weighs down on you, becoming too much for you to handle, you drop to your knees, flipping the toilet lid up, and emptying your guts once again. You had been puking off sporadically all day long, and you lost count of how many times you had thrown up hours ago.

Continuing to heave violently, you drown out the sounds of Chris calling your name through the bathroom door, “babe? You okay?” And when you don’t answer him, only responding with hurling sounds, he decides to enter the bathroom anyways. Chris’s flu, along with both of his brothers, had been long gone, so it worried him that you weren’t recovering like normal. You look up at him, not fully processing the moment, the positive pregnancy test was sitting on the counter in plain view for him to see. He keeps his eyes locked on you, shutting the door behind him, “we got to take you to the emergency room in the morning, baby.” He shoots you a sympathetic look before hooking his arms around yours and helping you to your feet.

You suck in a breath as he engulfs you in a gentle hug. “Chris,” your voice barely above a whisper, still breathing heavily while your heart thumps violently in your chest. Chris rubs his hand up and down your back, soothing you more than he knew. He plants a kiss on the top of your head, “you need me to get you anything?”

Letting your eyes fall to the test, you let out another soft sob. It makes Chris pull away, confusion etched across his face, “what's wrong?” He asks you, placing each of his hands on your shoulders, concern laced through his voice. You stare into his blue eyes, letting them seize your momentary sadness. You let your eyes fall to the counter, not being able to tear them away from the pregnancy test. Once Chris notices, you can feel his body tense up and his eyes widen like a deer in headlights, “what the fuck is that?”

The harsh reality of his words hit you like a freight train, making you wish he didn't know. You step away, crossing your arms over your chest, and not daring to say a word. “Fuck man,” you watch as he tugs a hand through his hair, picking the test up and squinting in disbelief. “No fucking way!” he spits out in shock, his voice louder than before. Chris tosses the pregnancy test in the sink, placing both hands on the countertop as he leans over. He looked like he just got the worst news of his life.

To you, his actions were confirmation he wanted nothing to do with you or this baby. You panic, pushing past him, slinging open the door, and footing it back to his bedroom. Chris’s feet are quickly in tow behind you once he hears the soft sobs and sniffles you let out while trying to escape his pent-up rage. Finally in his bedroom, you attempt to swing the door shut behind you, but Chris intervenes, pushing it open with his hand. “Y/n,” he sounds quietly, the angry Chris was no longer present, but you didn’t care. His initial reaction had you shook to your core. It’s not like you expected him to be jumping for joy, but you wanted him to be supportive and not flip out like he did.

Now in Chris’s closet, you shove clothes into one of your spare duffle bags, not letting your eyes meet him. He has his body pressed against the door frame, blocking your only exit, “you’re not leaving.” You wipe your tear-stained cheeks and look up at him, “you don’t want me here.”

Chris’s face contorts with a mixture of frustration and empathy, he takes a deep breath before sitting on the floor with you, “I want you here, baby, I do. I'm just- I don't know.” Your face was swollen, and your vision was blurred from crying, but you could make out the pained expression etched across his face. A few tears slip from his eyes, and he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you closer and planting another kiss on your forehead as he rubs your back in a soothing manner. Anywhere with Chris was your safe place, knowing your boyfriend brought you so much comfort, you didn’t care about breaking down in his arms. You let the sobs erupt from your chest as he hugs you tight, “shhh, we're gonna be okay.”

“I-I’m so sorry Chris,” you choke out through your tears. Chris pressed his cheek to the top of your head, running his fingers through the ends of your hair, “none of this is your fault.” His soft tone relaxes you, helping you push your worries to the back of your head. Chris guides you through deep breaths, wiping the leftover tears from your cheeks once you’re calm enough. Letting his hands drop to your lap, “whatever you want to do, I’m here,” he reassures you. You suck in another scattered breath, nodding a few times before pulling the words from your throat, “I can’t get an abortion, Chris.”

“Then you don’t have to, Y/n,” he eases while rubbing a hand up your thigh, “it doesn’t matter what option you choose, I’m not going anywhere.” Throughout your relationship with Chris, you had never seen him with this much emotion. A few tears slip down his cheeks and his lip bottom quivers before he pulls you into another hug, this time tighter than before. Tangling his hand in your hair, “I love you.” You strangle out a laugh, “I love you," knowing how vulnerable the two of you looked on the floor of his closet, bawling your eyes out at 2AM.

In a way, the revelation broke through a comfort barrier the two of you always held onto so tightly. Chris being scared to commit and you having a hard time with expressing what you actually wanted from him. The thought of starting a family together freaked you and Chris out to no end, but both of you were ready for the blessing placed upon you.

He pulls back abruptly before pressing a kiss to your lips, “we’re gonna be great fucking parents.”

🏷️ - @lvrsturniolo @thepubeburgler @unknvhx @m11rx @ribread03 @emely9274 (if anyone else wants on my tag list just let me know!!)

[mysicklove]

𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐈𝐍 𝐀 𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐘

DAY 31: MASTURBATION

With: Izuku Midoriya

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: subish! Izuku, fem/afab reader, izuku masturbates to your voicemail and pretends to fuck you, reader calls him baby, and he calls u hun, needy izuku

A/N: masturbation fics are so fun to write for no reason. anyways, my last kinktober fic. crazy. it doesnt feel this way cause i wrote it halfway through lol.

Izuku was left alone for too long. On the verge of three weeks to be exact.

He wasn't left completely alone, of course. He was just overseas, on an important mission. He was separated from you, but that to his love-sick brain, meant he was left alone. His sleep schedule is all messed up from the times he stayed up late at night to wish you goodmorning, or the times where he woke up super early to catch you before you ate dinner. 

He missed you, an ungodly amount. When he comes home to his luxury hotel, and flops onto the bed, the only thing he can think about is you. What it would feel like to wraps his arms around you, and melt in your warmth. The way your fingers would run through his hair, and comfort him from all he did that day.

Of course he had those innocent, romantic thoughts most of the time, but somehow one way or another those fantasies began to change. The touches reach lower, your words begin to drip with honey, and your lips seem to be more passionate, desperate even. Until five out of the seven days, he daydreams about fucking you. 

He lays against the bed frame, shirtless, and dick pulled out of his boxers. The trip back to the hotel was long, and he's been thinking about doing this for the past hour now. He prepared everything ahead of time, because if he was doing something as pathetic as this, at least do it right.

The lights were dimmed, and his eyelids are drooping, exhausted from the day. He slowly reaches toward the nightstand and grabs a couple of tissues, setting them down next to him. Then with a sigh, he puts his phone up to his ear, and brings his hand to his cock. 

He gulps when he hears your voice, wishing desperately that you weren't asleep. Its got to be around 5 am by that time, and of course he wished he was patient enough to wait a couple hours for you to talk to him. But, he was desperate, and the voicemail you left him a couple hours earlier did the job.

“Hey baby,” Your voice broadcast, and immediately he seems to melt. His eyes fall shut and his hands begins to move up and down his half hard cock. He hums in reply, not caring if you cant hear him. “I miss you. Saw a kid walk by me with your merch on, made me smile,” You say, your voice slightly muffled from a task you must be doing. 

He huffs a laugh, head falling to the side. “Yeah?” He breathes, thumb rubbing at the tip, and then falling back down to his shaft in a repetitive motion. You continue on about your day, mentioning nothing too important, just how you went grocery shopping and a nice walk after work. “You shouldnt be working. Can take care of you,” Izuku mumbles, eyes peering open just slightly to watch his movements.

His cock was on full display now, the tip a pretty shade of pink, and beginning to leak. You always called it pretty. A strange thing to say about a penis, but he soaked up the praise, taking pride in his cock now. 

The thought made his mind wander. Would you praise him for what he was doing now? He wasnt supposed to touch himself without you, but its been three weeks, you have got to understand. Were you touching yourself thinking about him? The thought sends a thrilling shiver down his spine.

Your voice was now a background noise, just listening to the tone, the sound of it, but nothing of what you were saying. Maybe you were cooing at him. Telling him how good he is doing. Or maybe you were calling him a pervert for doing something so gross without you knowing. He lets out a shaky moan, mewling out and picking up the pace of his hand. 

“I miss you,” He warbles into the phone, on top of your speech. What were you talking about now? A dog you saw? Nothing important. Why weren't you touching yourself to his voice? He would die for an audio of that. Or even an audio of where you give him directions of how to do touch himself correctly.

No Izuku, slow down. Don't hurt yourself, baby. Your voice clouds his mind, and he nods, peering back to his cock and slowing his hand down. Thats it. Tighten your hand, and focus on the tip. He obeys, moving his hand up to the head, and making small pumps there. “S-Sensitive there,” He groans to the empty hotelroom, shaking his head from side to side when his heartbeat begins to pick up.

“Went into Victoria's Secret today,” You hum, and his eyes widen, attention snapping back to your voicemail. He quickly turns up the volume and pressing the phone closer to his ear. “Bought something you’ll love. Red is your favorite, yeah?”

Lewd images flash through his head of dark red lingerie sets and he nods. “Fuck. Please,” He moans, wishing he was there to pick it out with you. His dick twitches, and a glob of precum leaks out. Green eyes flicker to it, and he uses his thumb to swirl it around the head, flinger glazing over the slit. “Wanna see,” Izuku pants, growing hot.

You seem to have heard his reply and it makes him whine. “You don't get to see till you get home. A nice reward for doing so good all this time you are away,” You purr, making a short kissing noise into the mic and laughing.

His eyebrows furrow at the possibilities and his mind drifts off from your voice again. Suddenly he is there with you, his rough hands trailing up and down your body. The dark lingerie looks perfect against your skin tone, and his mouth waters at the sight. Well, look how needy you are Deku. Do you want to fuck me that bad?

He nods his head frantically, hand unconsciously picking up the pace. “Please. Please, beggin’ you,” he chants under his breath, his back slightly arching off the frame. He dully notices that the voicemail has ended, but doesnt pay attention to it, too immersed in the movie playing in his head.

His mind cuts the scene forward, growing too impatient and desperate as his orgasm begins to approach. You are under him, sending scratch marks down his back while moaning out. His thrusts are frantic, and he tries to pretend that his hand is you. Its not the same, but it will do. 

“Am I doing good?” He mumbles, dropping his phone onto the bed and resting the other hand on his thigh. You nod at him, kissing his cheek with redden cheeks, and lazy grin. A view he has seen so many times that he has a perfect mental image of it. 

So good, Izuku. You wanna cum inside?

He moans, louder than he should, considering the thin walls, but he doesnt care at the moment. He never gets to cum inside – this was something he was waiting to hear. “Fuck. Pleaseeee,” He whimpers, eyebrows furrowing and hand frantically moving up and down. His cock is lubed up with pre, and its easier for his hand to move now. 

He climbs closer and closer to his high and now hes hunched slightly over on himself. Suddenly, he hears his phone ringing, cutting him out of his perfect daydream. Just a couple of seconds, he just needs a couple seconds more of fucking you, and then he can take this call. He whines slightly, and peers over at it, not stopping his movements.

When he sees your name his eyes light up, and he grabs the phone and brings it to his ear immediately. His hands makes a lewd squelching noise, but he too fucked out to care if you hear.

A couple of seconds go by, and he breathes into the mic, waiting. And then he hears a groggy, “Hey baby,” and he cums on the spot. Groaning into the phone without a care as cum spills out on his hands and his whole body shakes. 

Another second goes by, as you wait silently on your side, confused on what was happening, but too sleepy to put two and two together. Izuku's chest rises and falls with every breath, and he stares at his cum covered hand, trying not to let out a sound of complaint when he realized he forgot to cum into the tissue.

He blinks a couple times, exhausted but glowing. “Hey hun. Was just thinkin’ bout you,” He hums, grinning at his sticky hand and closing his eyes when he hears your girlish giggle.

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[moonstruckme]

spencer reid holding hands 4 the first time : ( 've been rewatching cm and i miss my boy sm : (( you're most recent peter fic is so sweet btw im absolutely obssessed!!!!! love you bunches

Thank you sweetheart <3

Spencer Reid x fem!reader ♡ 665 words

You and Spencer have had a very…tentative beginning to your relationship. Normally, when you think of a first date, you’re worried about how much the other person expects. (Will they want to kiss you? Will they want more? What if you don’t want to? How do you say no without making it awkward?) With Spencer, there’s been none of that. You’re on date three, and he’s kept completely to himself the entire time. When you met up earlier in the week he’d let a hand hover near your elbow when you nearly tripped over a curb, but you’d barely felt the whisper of his skin against yours before he was putting it back in his pocket, the danger having passed. 

You’ve always thought that you’d prefer to take things slow, and Spencer seems that way too, but now you’re itching for something more. Just something tangible to show that you like him, that he likes you too, that you’re not just going on these dates for no reason at all. 

So, bold thing that you are, you let your hand hang in the empty space between you as you walk. An offering. 

The first time Spencer’s knuckles brush across yours, knobby and skimming, he almost stops talking. He’s been saying something about Alexander Pope and Eliza Haywood (and you’re doing your best to follow along, honest), but he falters mid-sentence, his hand stuttering in its movement. 

“And, uh, actually,” Spencer goes on, getting his verbal feet back under him, “it was only in the late twentieth century that her works started surfacing in academia…” 

You nod along but don’t move your hand, letting Spencer’s graze past it again. This time, you lean into the touch, pushing your knuckles into his almost imperceptibly. And this time, Spencer’s hand doesn’t continue along its trajectory. He lets it rest alongside yours, your skin brushing up against each other’s with the movement of your walking. After a few seconds, his pinkie teases yours. 

You bite back a smile, crooking your pinkie so it hooks around his. Spencer moves his hand, and for a second your heart drops, but he’s only bringing it to the inside of yours, interlacing your fingers loosely. 

“Is this okay with you?” he asks, careful and to-the-point. 

“Yeah.” You look up at him sheepishly, wriggling your fingers in his to get them closer. “I’ve been wanting to do this.” 

“Me too,” Spencer says quietly. Your heart balloons until you’re sure it’s about to float off and take you with it. 

His palm is rougher than you’d expected. Spencer comes off as such an academic, sometimes you can forget that he’s in the literal FBI. He handles guns and had to go through training, and you can feel it in the light scratch of his calluses against your palm. Slender fingers stretch over your knuckles, deft and capable. His touch sends a pleasant tingling all the way up from your hand into your buzzing brain. 

“Sorry,” you say softly. 

Spencer looks confused. His thumb runs the length of yours, a thoughtless movement or a soothing touch, it doesn’t matter. If he does it again, you’ll puddle down onto the pavement for sure. 

“What are you sorry for?” he asks. 

“I sort of interrupted you.” 

A little smile teases the dimple in his cheek. “I don’t mind.” 

You give his hand a gentle tug, feeling brazen. It cracks something open in him, and his smile comes out for real, the familiarity between you suddenly so natural. 

“Tell me about Eliza Haywood,” you urge. “Did Pope just hate her because she was a woman?” 

“That was definitely a big part of it,” Spencer allows, and his voice seems to go back into the conversation while his face stays somewhere else. He’s still wearing that smile, eyes squinted just slightly like he’s having some trouble figuring you out and it might be his new favorite game. “But also it had a lot to do with the perception of novels…”