#I usually grind it up bc it burns better but yeah

[paracawsal]

pros of resin incense: smells great, lots of smoke, etc

cons of resin incense: everything I touch for the next hour is now sticky

[jar-of-something-else]

sleeping w/ the mercs [IT IS LIKE THAT]

these are so badddddd bro literally ignore this i just need practice and the mercs are my victims pinky promise i'll get better

yeah the title is the exact same as the tf2 headcanons from my main SO WHAT

if ur under 18 please don't interact 👍🏻

afab reader i’m sorry guys :( gender is totally neutral though

obviously this is under a cut

warnings/includes: MENTIONS OF SYRINGES/NEEDLES, SCALPELS, AND MEDICAL STUFF IN MEDIC'S SECTION!!!!!! AND KNIVES AND BLOOD IN SNIPER'S!!!! these are so bad, pyro is insane, medic is also insane, sniper is depraved, actually everybody's depraved, i'm depraved and also so so sorry

mostly what they're into/how they behave, nothing super reader specific in these ones

Scout:

-he’s got enough experience but he isn’t as good as he says he is, he’s got the spirit though and that’s what matters

-really good with his fingers but he can't find the clit half the time so help him out a bit

-absolutely an ass man but isn’t into anal

-scout usually likes positions where he can easily see/touch your ass (doggy, reverse cowgirl, etc)

-definitely says cringe shit in the bedroom, 100% refers to himself as daddy (which is canon i think?? i remember him having a voice line where he does that, could be wrong tho)

-has tried (and failed) to call you kitten on the regular but reverted back to the usual (still cringy) nicknames he calls you after demo made fun of him

-he never shuts up so the dirty talk is CRAZYYYY

-calls you stuff like doll, baby, babe, and uses pretty girl/boy/baby and babygirl/boy/doll when he's close

-even though he’s a little clumsy with it, he really does like giving oral, just give him a little direction; BUT likes receiving oral even more, sorry abt ur knees babe 💔

-definitely into semi-public sex, he won’t do anything in front of people but you bet your ass he’s finding some alleyway or storage closet to get freaky in

-does get jealous pretty easy and even though he’s usually not too rough with you he is not above manhandling when he sees fit

-the dog tags stay on, do with that what you will

Soldier:

-good GAWD

-literally so mean but mean in a hot way so that makes it okay

-absolutely nickname crazy; most of them aren't very cute or sexy (i.e. cadet, maggot, etc) but cupcake always makes an appearance

-very much into verbal degradation because of course he is, is also very into manhandling and just kinda tossing you around but he doesn't wanna hurt you too bad

-rarely ever fucks on an actual bed, usually it's the nearest wall/table/chair/couch, any surface you could lay/sit on really

-no the helmet is not coming off but that adds to it

-the honey IS going on though, maybe not his full body but it will make an appearance (he’s def into foodplay)

-tiny bit of a size kink, i think soldier is one of the taller, bulkier mercs so there's a very good chance he's much bigger than you in one way or another

-would absolutely be interested in a threesome with demo let's get real here

-very attracted to body hair bc i say so

-likes positions where he's very obviously the one in control/with the power; very into restraint either with some device (handcuffs, rope, etc) or with his own hands

-VERY loud, so good luck with that lmao

Pyro:

-man,,,,

-obviously into temperature and wax play

-the mask and suit do not come off, but pyro has a plethora of toys to use on you instead 😊

-gets off on the idea that he's some faceless person you can't really understand that has complete control over you and your body

-does occasionally lift the mask up just above his nostrils to kiss you, though, scarred lips be damned

-does babble a lot, even though it's all muffled; the nicknames he uses are surprisingly cute, he'll call you stuff like sugarplum, marshmallow, firefly, sugar cube, and other sickly-sweet names

-doesn't like showing you his bare skin/body because of their burn scars, but pyro does enjoy grinding if you wanna help him out that bad

-derives most of his pleasure from making you feel good, though, so he isn't really looking for any type of physical release on his end

-pyro's are kinda short i just can't think of any more rn i apologize 💔

Demo:

-WHAT A MAN 😍😍😍

-#1 lover out of all the mercs get fucked spy

-i think his build is very similar to soldiers, maybe an inch or two taller, so he definitely has the same lowkey size kink

-is also open to a threesome with soldier

-absolutely a service dom but he teases so much

-FAKE SYMPATHY!!!! FAKE SYMPATHY!!!!!!!

-likes when you call him by his name more than any of the cheesy titles dudes usually want their significant other to call them but he is always referring to you by any nickname he can think of; the most popular ones are lamb, sweetheart, lass/lad, my girl/boy/baby and "poor, sweet thing"

-loves talking to you and making you talk back to him even when you're literally on a different planet; makes you tell him what you want him to do even though he knows exactly what you're gonna say

-also slightly into dumbification (not to the extent medic or engineer are, though, he just thinks it's hot)

-very much into face and thigh riding

-foreplay alone could last as long as an hour if he's feeling "mean" at that particular time

-THIGH MAN!!!!!! LET'S GO!!!!!!!!!!

-makes you hold eye contact with him, sometimes the eyepatch comes off 🥴

-likes giving a whole lot more than receiving but he isn't about to turn down a blowjob if you offer

-waking you up with oral, it's his version of breakfast in bed

Heavy:

-and you thought demo was a service dom 🙄

-literally will do whatever you ask him to he does not care, as long as you feel good he's content

-very obvious size kink and it's very easy to exploit, but heavy doesn't take too kindly to teasing (he isn't about to stop you, though)

-speaks mostly in russian so unless you're fluent you can't really understand him but you get the gist of what he's saying by the tone in his voice

-outside of whatever russian bullshit he's spouting out, he calls you his "leetle bunny"

-tries to be gentle with you because of how big he is, but if he's provoked he can and will get wild

-as stated above, he can and will get wild, which includes his dirty talk; russian praise will turn into demeaning english muttered in your ear

-BREEDING KINK !!!!!!!!!!

-doesn't tease you on purpose, but he goes slow enough to where you think he's fucking with you (no pun intended)

-begging is never necessary but it is a guilty pleasure of his

-doesn't ask to receive oral often but watching you struggle with it does kinda turn him on even more

-face sitting extraordinaire, yes he does make the stupid eating sounds like in the game and yes he does it on purpose to try to make you laugh

-LET HEAVY FUCK NASTY GOD DAMN IT!!!

Engineer:

-WHAT A MIGHTY GOOD MAN 😍😍😍

-much stronger than you'd think he is and he does use that to his advantage

-slight temperature play when the gunslinger is involved, it's just a little colder than room temperature but it's a very stark contrast

-loves conflicting his speech with his actions; he'll sweet talk and praise you while he's railing you into next week

-speaking of, he'll call you anything but your name. honeybee, honey, darlin', sweet girl/boy/baby, baby girl/boy/doll, any nickname that sounds hot in a southern accent he's callin you

-he absolutely has a daddy kink but won't tell you unless you have one too and approach him first, chances are you're younger than he is and he doesn't wanna make you think he's a weirdo

-all in all, the dirty talk is INSANEEEEEEEE

-absolutely into dumbification, he knows he's smart and he gets off on the power imbalance when you're babbling about nothing and he's still perfectly present

-also slightly into dacryphilia? it's not attractive when you're crying from pain, sadness, frustration, etc but he likes making you feel so good you're overwhelmed and all you can do is cry for him

-might forget to take the helmet and goggles off, but if you want him to keep them on then by all means he will

-would absolutely abide by the cowboy hat rule (if you don't know what that is, basically if a cowboy puts his hat on your head y'all are fuckin' later on)

-very much into bigger people, the extra chub around the thighs, chest, cheek, and stomach areas are a weakness of his

MEDIC!

-the moment we've all been waiting for

-kinda like soldier in the fact that he's mean in a hot way, but it's less bully-mean and more absolutely deranged mean

-of course he's into degradation and medical play, definitely dacryphilia and dumbification (for similar reasons engineer is), another merc with a slight size kink cause medic is big as hell

-likes to get you on the operation table and trace a syringe or scalpel (or both if he's feeling patient [haha get it]) along your body purely for the fear it evokes from you

-wants to get you scared/vulnerable and that's how he starts his foreplay; totally into the whole predator/prey thing but not in the same way sniper is, medic is more into metaphorical or psychological hunting rather than the actual thing

-FAKE SYMPATHY!!!!!! FAKE SYMPATHY!!!!! FAKE SYMPATHY!!!

-teases, edges, and overstimulates you to the point of tears and gets this stupid smug look on his face while cooing at you

-calls you demeaning names, like pet, but he's got some cute ones he uses too; täubchen, maus, schatz, and liebling (dove, mouse, sweetheart, and darling) are very prevalent in and outside of the bedroom

-if you're okay with it, medic does like to use you as a bit of stress relief when everybody else is getting on his nerves

-is 100% down for a doctor/nurse or doctor/patient roleplay let's get real here

-also into semi-public sex, sometimes he'll leave the medbay door unlocked and slightly ajar purpose just to mess with you

-though he is very rough with you most of the time, he likes to save his more tender moments for when the two of you are in an actual bedroom and not his workspace

Sniper:

-wild. like genuinely doesn't know what to do with himself when he's horny he just goes fucking crazy.

-even though he gets crazy insane, he doesn’t really know what all to do and it frustrates him; he doesn't have much experience when it comes to sexual acts with another person involved so please give him some pointers

-absolutely into knife play come on

-if you have a period, he'd also be down for period sex he does not care about blood in the slightest

-isn't all that nickname-heavy like some of the other mercs here, but he does sprinkle them into his dirty talk. it's usually the same things he calls you outside of the bedroom, like 'roo, darl', and love

-into body worship, giving or receiving. he likes making you feel beautiful and he likes feeling good about himself too

-would definitely want you to suck him off while he does target practice and i know this is such a popular headcanon but come on guys

-another popular headcanon is sniper being into predator/prey dynamics which like,,,come on. it's literally perfect. you're telling me this nutcase dude wouldn't be into scaring the shit out of you by physically hunting you down. it's basically canon idc

-likes biting and leaving marks on your neck/shoulders in very visible areas because he's kind of a possessive guy ngl

-as much as he likes people seeing the aftermath of what he does to you, sniper is a very private person so he really wouldn't be all that into sneaky sex. the closest you'll get is his sniper nest while he does target practice on cease-fire days

Spy:

-despite being an asshole on the regular, he's a very attentive lover

-into body worship but only giving, he already knows he's fine and he wants to make sure you're never insecure about yourself

-bilingual babe 😍 speaks in french so much you can't really understand what he's talking about but he's more than happy to give you a translation

-also has a daddy kink let's get real here

-KNIFE PLAY!!!!!!!!!!

-heavily into power play as well, similar to pyro because he'll keep his clothes (including the mask and gloves) on while you're completely bare to him

-likes buying you lingerie

-likes getting and giving head the same amount, he has no real preference cause it's gonna end in sex every time anyway 🤷‍♀���

-french nicknames ONLY!!!! mon cher (my dear), ma chérie/mon chéri (my darling), amour/mon amour (love/my love), gentille fille/garçon/bébé (sweet girl/boy/baby), mon ange (my angel) [currently using my basic understanding of the french language for evil]

-semi-public and public sex spy does not give a fuck he has a cloaking device for a reason 🙄🙄

-if you don't already have one he will give you an accent kink

[anemptypuddingcup]

"Can you stop messing up my medical folders?"

Nurse who knows what to do but she is new on the job, and whenever she's close to Law she's always clumsy~

Dominant Trafalgar Law to teach her a lesson and to practice anatomy~

Have fun ^^

Yessss omg- I might write a smut short abt this bc this got me quaking tbh- that doctor x nurse relationship got me goin-

"Can you stop messing up my medical folders?"

You stumbled a bit as you carried a heavy stack of papers and folders for your dear doctor. You were new on the job and let’s just say that you wasn’t as precise and careful like a usual nurse. You had a bit of common sense in the medical industry yeah- but…let’s just say you weren’t as careful. Tripping over things, spilling medicines- It was something that you genuinely couldn’t help, but you knew that if it continued Law would have no choice but to put you out.

Law’s eyes flickered up at you and he quirks a brow as he watched you struggle to carry the files in your hands. “I-I have your files D-DoctORRR!-“ You let out a loud yelp as you slipped and tripped over nothing, comically falling face first and spilling out all of the files and it’s contents onto the cold tile floor. Law sighs out and sits back in his rolling chair, you were a pain to keep track of if he had to be honest.

“Could you please stop being so fucking clumsy, you’re fucking up my medical files and shit my dearest nurse.” He groans, pinching the bridge of his nose a bit tight before he stood up from his chair. You shoot up from the cold floor and slap your hands to your burning rosy red cheeks. “O-Oh! I’m so sorry Doctor! I-I’ll clean it all back up right now!” You yell before scrambling frantically, grabbing all of the files and left over paper.

“Don’t bother. Stand up now, my dear.” He demanded in a dark tone.

You slowly stand up and lower your head in shame, your body trembling just a bit as you felt that you were about to get terminated on the spot. Although…he gives you words entirely different from what you were thinking.

“Here, take a seat on my desk. Now please.”

You shuddered but obeyed walking over to his desk and setting your hips upon it while your dress inches up just a few centimeters. He watched as you scoot back a bit, setting your pretty ass onto the wooden desk.

His heels clacked against the tile as he walked closer to you before staring down into your eyes. He moves in and whispers into your ear, his voice making you tremble a bit and making your body grow hot.

“I think it’s about time you’ve had a pep talk and a lesson in anatomy.”

☆ ☆ ☆

“And this part here is your g-spot, a pleasurable spot deep within your pussy~ It’s a bundle of nerves and works just like your clitoris in a way~ It’s made to pleasure you~”

You moan out as his buries his fingers far and deep inside of your cunt. Your red pump nearly slipped off of your stocking-covered foot as you lift your leg for a better angle. “Mmgh~ Mmh!~ D-Doctor!~ I-I’ve never felt anything like this before! It feels so good!~” You mewl out heavily, a bit of drool spilling from your lips as he fingers you diligently.

His eyes widens in shock and he smiles sweetly before moving in closer to you, his chest pushing up and squishing against your breasts. “Oh really? So this is your very first time getting fingered? You’ve never experienced pleasure before?” He asked, quirking a brow to you. You shook your head before gasping out, your hands gripping his shoulders while you arch your back.

“Well then, I guess I’ll have to give you a full examination immediately. Doctor’s orders.” He whispers to you, grinding his digits continuously against your sweet spot. You bite your bottom lip while your brows furls at the pleasure. “Y-Yes please doctor, I would love to know more about this!~ Ah!~” You whimper, throwing your head back a bit.

“Don’t worry then, your doctor will take very good care of you while teaching you.”

[desceros]

I no longer feel bad about asking about blurple villian might I ask some very pointed questions about Donnie’s side of the relationship for playlist purposes?

So what I’m hearing is it takes DonBon a little longer to um… get his ball rolling. So to speak. How many fights do he and Lamb Chan get into over Leo and does Leo know about it/rub it in Donnie’s face?

Gbs input would be appreciated as well (now when I reblog blurple villian stuff I wait a bit to make sure you two aren’t still going back and forth on the post lol)

never ever ever feel bad for blurple villain au posting

i think donnie and lamb-chan actually... don't really fight that much usually? not in the traditional sense. for the most part you're just like. oh donnie says that this is the best way to do things, so i'm going to trust that and do it. and if you say you want something, donnie usually is like ok well here you go. it's just very. easy. being with donnie. there's no real friction or fighting that ends up happening.

...except when it comes to leo.

ohhh man. you are stubborn as fuck about leo, and it makes donnie's teeth fucking paste with how hard he grinds them on this. he tries everything. talking to you. grabbing your arms and shaking you. a very memorable powerpoint presentation with diagrams and pictures. he puts a tracker on your coat that starts making an obnoxious beep when you get too close to leo's apartment, so you just take it off and leave it on a dumpster until you come back by.

(he promptly takes it off, because the thought of you out there, cold, is maybe worse than the thought of you being with that fucker. also bc leo snapped at him about it, genuinely angry, saying he'd had to warm you up bc your teeth were chattering, and knowing that leo put his fucking hands on you—that leo was right about how he'd hurt you—yeah. no more beeping trackers.)

leo, of course, absolutely loves this. i can just see him hiding in the fire escapes, watching over you on your way to his apartment with donnie trailing behind. you're ignoring him, nose in the air, as he tells you all the reasons that this is stupid, that leo is toxic, that you're better off staying in the lair. when he makes the mistake of insinuating that leo would hurt you, that's when you stop and wheel around, getting a little nasty right back in his face. leo has never once hurt you—not in a way you didn't ask for—and insinuating otherwise won't stand.

taking this moment to be the perfect little shit, leo jumps down and comes up behind you, pulling you close and sending his brother a smug smile. making matters worse, you grab leo's hand and pull him along behind you, leaving donnie behind with the sight of your stiff spine and leo's infuriating smirk. he goads the two of you on, wanting you to fight, hoping to push you away from donnie and closer to him.

...but, equally, i think your fights—as hot as they burn when they happen—are very, very quick to boil away. they never last more than a few hours before you're coming back together, apologizing, the two of you snuggling close and letting the gravity between you come to head. he hates making you angry, he really hates making you cry; you hate making him angry, you really hate making him sad.

once you start hooking up w donnie, this gets even more pronounced. i imagine you're very, very careful not to get into fights with donnie, giving him one or two more warnings that you're getting pissed when he starts sniping about leo. hence why the whole 'being little shits behind your back' thing starts happening. (because you are also very quick to defend donnie to leo, and your fuse on people saying shit about him is very, very, very short.)

@gbao3 tag youre it

[just-a-carrot]

I’ve been sick for the past week or so (to which my partner got sick immediately after me) and me and them are orly coded and I am a multishipper before I am a human being so I love the idea of iggy taking care of orlam when he’s sick so much :,)

nothing crazy, just some upper respiratory virus he got from work bc it was that time of the year again at that point

normally orlam would be pretty pissed due to Not Being On The Grind but despite the fact he’s coughing like a dying victorian child, has used up 3 boxes of tissues that DAY blowing his nose (the trash can has been overfilled for the past two hours), and the fact he hasn’t been able to feel his legs for the past 3 hours, he’s pretty content simply because of the case of Pretty Boy Has Been Feeding Him Soup And Medicine All Day

he probably coughs and gives a weak smile like he’s dying in a hospital bed (he’s not)(he’ll be fine in a few days) as iggy brings in more meds and hot chicken noodle soup. “My angel…he’s returned to heal me…” like he’s so CORNY

iggy blushes a tad at being called orlam’s angel (he really doesn’t think he’s doing much? just helping the man he loves when he’s sick). “haha, yeah…” says iggy as if he didn’t just nearly burn the soup on the stove and take their whole apartment with it (their microwave has been busted for like a week and iggy’s ass has been suffering bc it’s usually orlam who cooks but obviously orlam CAN’T rn 😭😭😭)

they do that corny cheeseball thing where iggy stays with orlam in bed while orlam rests and gets Adequate Sleep and in turn, iggy gets sick as well, so it’s orlam’s turn to take care of him (which orlam is INSANELY EXTRA ABOUT BTW. bro gets a dehumidifier, candles, draws iggy a warm bath when the chills set in, orders hot soup from a rlly good place he knows iggy likes nearby and pets iggy’s hair while feeding it to him, always keeps the TV in their room on so netflix shows that iggy likes can always be playing like BRO YOU JUST GOT BETTER CHILL ‼️‼️‼️)(orlam brewbacher when he’s given another chance to spoil the love of his life)

they’re so silly I love orly so much :3 🦅🦅🦅

ohhhhhhh this is soooooo sweet... 🥺💕

i'm such a sucker for the "taking care of sick" trope as it is i will admit alkdjfas so this is extremely cute to me...

i love the dichotomy here. like iggy just desperately trying his best and hoping he's doing it right but anxious he could mess up and orlam will be horrendously offended (and/or die because iggy couldn't take care of him well enough LOL) so is constantly asking for orlam's approval or if he needs anything

whereas orlam is just like completely smooth and suave about it and handles little every tiny little thing and takes complete control and acts like he's done this 50 thousand times hahaha

this is incredibly sweet i love it 💕

[sunlightandsuffering]

A while ago you said you had a fwb somewhat angsty au in mind. Can you please share us a little bit about it? I'm so curious

oh my god lol, I have been talking about my friends with benefits AU since the dawn of time tbh 😂 I started it SOOO long ago, i'm sure i've posted it before but Ill post the snippet again for u lol. But basically I wanted childhood friends to lovers friends with benefits where Mikasa is a super rich girl, and Eren is her bestie, been together forever, off and on a lot bc Mikasa's family doesn't really approve. She goes to balls and big galas a lot and they want her to marry someone of similar status and altho Eren is a great guy, he's probably in trades or something, or just in school rn, not a lawyer or a doctor, or some super rich billionaire they have in mind. So they have like the same recurring fight and it's painful as fuck but this time Eren is kind of the simp can u believe??? LOL! And he's basically been chasing her forever! and he's not so sure he can handle the heartbreak anymore 🥲 i'm laughing tho bc i just reread all of it, and wow I made it so much more painful than i thought lol!

They’re laying together watching some romantic comedy that Mikasa chose, and she’s draped across him like his own personal blanket, wearing little to nothing as usual. His hands clamped around the curve of her waist, stroking up her sides, teasing her lightly.  He knows how to work her up and when the movie changes to a love scene, he observes the first signs of her wanting him. She starts to squirm on top of him and buries her head further into his shoulder ignoring the movie entirely as the actors on screen start to go at it and Mikasa takes the opportunity to begin grinding on him.  If they were wearing less clothes he could slip inside easily right now, and it would be bliss.  Mikasa says exactly what he’s thinking, “Take your pants off?” 

Neither waste much time and his sweats are pulled down just enough to release his throbbing cock and Mikasa slips her panties to the side before positioning her pussy over his dick and they both let out sighs of pleasure as he slides in.  “Fuck.” 

They don’t move much, content just to be connected and Mikasa lets out a soft little moan, “God it’s been a while.” “Who’s fault is that? I told you that fuckwad wasn’t worth your time.”

There’s an edge to his voice as he speaks and he hates it, but it’s hard to control when he considers her getting with someone else.  She moans a little as she slowly begins to rock herself on him, “I just- I thought I’d give it a try—fuck.” She murmurs to herself as she rocks back farther and he bottoms out, his tip kissing her cervix and she bites the muscle of his shoulder, her eyes closing at the pleasure. 

His own hands move to the plush cheeks of her ass to knead and spread them more as he helps her fuck herself on his dick. 

“And what’s the verdict Miki?”  “I’m not gonna try again, I’ve got you.”

A stab of pain cuts through the pleasure at her words, straight to his heart like pins and needles. His next question is cutting, savage, “Did you fuck him?” “Yeah, ate me out too, couldn’t make me come.” 

This ignites the burning fire of jealousy and rage, and he doubles his efforts. “You’re not gonna do it again right? This is my pussy.” He slams into her roughly and she chokes on her next sentence.  “Yeah, -ngh—Fuck Eren.” He grins as he begins to guide her movements more harshly and thrusts himself up inside her as far as he can from his position. 

He tries not to think about how many times they’ve made this exact promise, and just how many times they’ve broken it.  But fuck she feels good, her walls clenching around him every time he tries to pull out, tight and refusing to allow him to leave. 

Sure, they fuck around with other people occasionally when they’re both pissed off like last week but for better or for worse, he’s the one she always comes back to, and it pleases him in a twisted way. 

He’s the only one. 

Except when he’s not.

Except when she’s out at a gala or a charity benefit with her family getting fucked in the bathroom by some douche canoe with more money than he knows what to do with. It doesn’t matter that he’s the one with her right now, carving out his place inside her, a hole no one else can fill, he’s reminded brutally that he has no permanent claim to her. They’re not dating, not married, engaged, nothing, they’re strictly friends with benefits. 

It’s been years since they’ve started this arrangement and its never changed, no matter how much he wants it to or how many times she stabs the knife into his heart.   

His pretty girl tucks a lock of hair behind her ear as she sits up, removing herself from his chest and holding herself over him instead, onyx eyes staring down his face before she goes in for a searing kiss as she spears herself on him again. God had he missed this when they were fighting.  His tongue slides past her lips to tangle with hers before he takes her full bottom lip between his teeth, biting gently. 

His thrusting slows a bit and Mikasa lets out a whine into his mouth, but he wants to enjoy this, it’s been too long, and he wants to drag it out for as long as possible. 

“Eren!” She whines impatiently, pulling away from his lips and he grins up at her, hands still holding her waist and gently rocking her back and forth.  “Let me enjoy this baby it’s been weeks.” “Fine but only if you tie me to the headboard after.” “You got it Miki.” 

[zhongliologist]

Breeding Kink | Dragon!Zhongli

Pairing: Zhongli x fem!reader

Genre: SMUTTTT!! 

Words: 4.6k

A/N: So uh yeah, this was mainly inspired by hcs from @genshin-spice​!! thank you for the ideas sjkdha as well as the asks I have received! I decided to combine them into one fic bc im lazy i hope u like it jkasdha

Warning: THIS IS AN 18+ FIC, SO MINORS OUT THERE, YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION. 

*

It was in the dead of the night.

Zhongli breathed in; eyes dilated.

His study was quiet—yet all he could hear was his heart beat pounding violently against his chest and the sound of skin rubbing against skin.

He couldn’t take it.

In Zhongli’s mind was an image of you in positions you have never been before. He could see you on the bed as he pins you down, ass high up as he gripped on your waist until bruises form. He could see sheathing himself completely into you, reeling at the erotic sounds which escaped your lips as he roughly thrusts in and out.

The grip of his hand tightened, moving up and down his enlarged shaft. Zhongli grunted as he felt his digits grind on a particularly sensitive spot. It would’ve been better if it was your mouth instead of his hands.

“YN….! Nghh…!”

Ignoring his locks thrown askew by his movements, Zhongli continued to see you in his mind’s eyes. Precious, beautiful; more than any stone or gem in the world. He’ll spread you out, pleasuring you and worshipping your body with his tongue. In every turn, he would leave his marks, proving that you were his and his only.

“Ahh…darling…I just…want to…!”

He growled, speeding up the movement of his wrist. He could feel himself grow even bigger as scales begin to form on his skin, as his nails turn sharper.

Zhongli wanted you. He wanted to pound into wildly until you keen and clamp around him; until you become a staggering mess of moans and drool. You will be quivering as your orgasm washes over you, yet he wouldn’t stop. This wasn’t the time to stop.

“Ughh….haa…! YN….! YN…! I’m close—!”

He’ll push even deeper, harder; making sure the tip of his cock reaches your womb. And that’s when he’ll release his warm seed into you, filling you up until his cum is dripping from your hole, until you were spent on the bed and still shaking from the intensity.

That’s not enough, Zhongli could sense something growl in him. Not enough.

You will be screaming with oversensitivity as he pushes inside you once more, his dick still hard as he keeps on going. You will be muttering his name ceaselessly as he fills you up, cumming inside you over and over again until you get pregnant with his child.

Yes.

The image of you on the bed, exhausted from his relentless pounding as cum leaks from your hole, surely pregnant with his child burned vividly inside his imagination. It sent an overwhelming surge of pleasure towards his cock; urging him to climax.

“Nnnh—!”

In one move, Zhongli orgasmed, his cum spurting to his stomach and clothes as he breathed in heavily. He tried to calm himself down yet the image of him cumming inside you was still so fresh that his excitement wouldn’t subside.

“…what is…this…?”

It seemed like his libido has peaked dramatically in the past few weeks. Normally, he could withstand not having any sexual activity for some time, especially when you were out of town, but for some reason, all he could think about right now was fucking you senseless.

He touched the scales on his arm. It also hasn’t escaped his notice how he would often show some of his draconic features in the midst of it all. There was only one thing that he could think of.

“Could it be…”

Wait. He hasn’t been in heat for more than a thousand years, and for it to appear right now is mind boggling to the say the least. But he could no longer see this at any other angle. It must have been triggered by your presence, in some way or another. The beast in him knew how he was madly in love with you, how he had taken you as his mate, and now it wants nothing but for you to bear him offspring.

Zhongli sighed. This is a matter that should be discussed first with you. Yet his heat is upon him and if it comes to it, he had to protect you even from himself. Zhongli sighed again heavily and gazed at the wedding ring on his left finger.  

“It seems the need arises to arrange necessary measures.

*

“Please explain to me, in some way or another,” you started. “…why I cannot see my own husband in my own house.”

With brows furrowed and arms on your hips, you glared at the offending ‘guards’ loitering around outside the bedroom as they looked at you with a panicked expressions. There were a few familiar faces like QiQi, who was busy staring at nothing and Xiangling, who simply came to visit to deliver freshly cooked dishes from Wanmin Restaurant.

“Dr. Baizhu!” you called out when you were only met with silence.

Giving you a worried look, the doctor tried to calm the situation but to no avail.

“Look, YN…” the doctor hesitated. “Mr. Zhongli is under…certain conditions which makes it dangerous for you to go anywhere near him.”

You blinked, mouth frowning as you tried to make sense of what he was trying to tell you. “And what would that be?”

Travelling around Teyvat for quite some time, you had only returned to Liyue and to your husband (of a year and a quarter) today; and to be denied access to somehow greet and touch the person you had missed so dearly only irked your frustration. You were determined that the first thing you do when you return was to run straight into his arms, kiss him hard and talk to him about an important matter in both your lives, but it seemed like the odds weren’t in your favor.

“Well,” Dr. Baizhu struggled to reply, as he was under the implicit instruction not to reveal the exact details. “All I can say is that it’s a condition where Mr. Zhongli wouldn’t be able to act properly around you. But please don’t worry, it’s not contagious and it’ll be over in a week or so.”

If anything, the vagueness only alarmed you. What illness could possibly make him lose control like that? Zhongli, as you knew him, was always someone who regarded himself with propriety and dignity. If this condition can weaken him like that, you were all the more worried.

“I…If that’s the case, then I really need to see him,” you insisted, now concern etched into your eyes. “I can’t just leave him alone like this.”

Stand firm, Dr. Baizhu. My wife is especially stubborn—he had been warned a few days before, dismissing it as something a husband would normally say about his wife, but now that he was face to face with that stubbornness he had been warned with, it seemed like he had underestimate you.

“YN…I…” he breathed in as he placed a consoling hand on your shoulders. “I would not recommend seeing Mr. Zhongli at this point—”

“Just a peek wouldn’t hurt, right?” you interrupted. “I just want to see him.”

The doctor gazed down at you with an apologetic look, fully understanding why you were desperate in your request. You haven’t seen him for quite some time, and to find him sick and unable to see him when you finally returned—he could understand. He really does. That’s why, in the end, the doctor relented. He’ll face the consequences later on.

“Alright,” Dr. Baizhu sighed. “Just a peek and nothing more, got it?”

Upon hearing his words, your face brightened up in a flash. “Thank you, doctor!”

As he led you to the door of the master’s bedroom, you followed silently behind; watching as Dr. Baizhu unlocked the door from the outside—why would they need to lock it anyway, you thought—and pushed the door slightly ajar.

You pursed your lips.

In a breath, you knocked the doctor aside and went in as quickly as you could; shutting the door behind you as he protested from the outside. Apologies, Dr. Baizhu…!

Swiftly recovering from the sudden action, you noticed that it was dark inside; the windows shut and heavy curtains blocking any stray sunshine. The only source of light was the single glowing lantern at the far end of the room which only illuminated half of your face and offered a simple silhouette of your husband sitting on the bed.

You breathed in a sigh of relief.

“Right. I don’t really have much time, and I already duped Dr. Baizhu, so I’ll make this quick. I just want you to know that I’m back, and while I do have something I want to talk about with you, I’ll wait till this gets sorted out. So if you need anything, I’m right here—”

You halted; ears trained at the low growl you just noticed.

“…Zhongli…?” you asked, apprehension rising as you took a step forward.

“Why are you here?”

He finally spoke, yet instead of the sweet deep hum of his voice, this one was a lot harsher.

“What…?”  you asked, surprised at his words. “I-I just wanted to see you…”

“You’re not allowed here,” Zhongli continued as he rose from the bed, his frame seemingly much taller that usual yet the darkness had hindered you from telling clearly. “It seems Dr. Baizhu has failed to stop you.”

Brows furrowed, you spoke with a waver in your voice. “Zhongli, what’s wrong…?”

In a bat of an eye, he was in front of you, pining you against the door with his lithe form. His clutches were firm but gentle enough not to hurt you as you felt him look closely at you. Daring your eyes to open, finally, finally, you could see him.

His usual warm amber orbs were now glowing golden, his pupils turned into slits. You could see scales on his skin and horns on his head as he grasped your wrists with his clawed hands. You would’ve screamed if you weren’t too surprised. Astonishment was an understatement of how you felt at that exact moment.

“Do you now see what is wrong?” he snarled at you, his eyes narrowing.

Taking in a gulp, you tried to calm yourself. This is still Zhongli, just different. You were used to the unusual things happening around him because of his status as an ex-archon, but this just takes the cake.

“Wha—why are you half….half dragon?!” you exclaimed.

He could feel him make a disgruntled noise as his grip on you tightened. “That is of no importance. You have to leave before I lose my sense of control.”

You glared at him, finally realizing that he was still the husband you knew; probably just a bit frustrated.

“No. Tell me exactly what’s happening Zhongli. It is my responsibility as your wife to take care of you, and I can’t possibly leave you like this without knowing the full extent of the problem.”

Zhongli clicked his tongue and closed his eyes, exasperated at your mulish behavior. Why can’t you just follow obediently? He was really weak against you; even more so at that exact moment.

You can’t hold his cheeks with your hands pinned but you at least tried to console the obvious turmoil inside of him. “I’m right here, love. It’s alright…you can tell me.”

In an instant, Zhongli conceded, melting at your presence as he nuzzled himself on your neck, his breath tickling your skin. He always loved your scent; amplified by his draconic instincts, it was even more intoxicating.

“As a dragon, I am in heat,” he whispered just below your ear as you felt him smirk. “Are you still willing to help me out?”

Heat…?!

You immediately flushed at the implication of his words. Sex was no stranger in your relationship even before you became husband and wife, but for some reason, at the suggestion of Zhongli being in heat, you became bashful like a giddy schoolgirl.

“I-I…! Of course!” you replied despite the tumble in your voice. “I’m your wife, it’s only natural that we satisfy each other’s…er…sexual needs…”

Zhongli made a low chuckle as he allowed his lips to graze your skin.

“Have you understood what being in heat truly entails?” he replied, unable to contain the intensity in his voice. “This is not simply an act of making love. I will fuck you. And I will fuck hard, YN. Do you understand?”

It was incredible how his mere words were enough to make your legs shake and your lips quiver. His effect on you has always been like this, but for some reason, in his half dragon form, it had only became more powerful.

“Z-Zhongli…I—”

“This will be different from everything we did so far,” he interrupted you. “I will be rough and relentless. I will bite you and mark you that you are mine and mine only. I will not stop even if you tell me to. I will keep on pounding into you until your womb is full of my seed, and even then, I will not stop. I will breed into you until you become pregnant with my child. Do you truly understand?”

You bit your lip. His words were swirling in your head like a thick soup of lustful thoughts; pushing you into arousal. If he was meaning to scare you, then it had surely backfired.

“I do,” you replied, as he pulled away from you to look into your eyes. “And I want you to do all those things to me.”

For a moment, Zhongli stared at you; speechless and totally caught off guard by your reply. It seems like he hadn’t expected you to agree at all. You were supposed to be frightened, freaked out by his monster-like appearance, but here you are taking up the challenge as if it was nothing.

He grunted as soon as he realized you weren’t backing off. He knew who he had married.

“There is no guarantee that I can control myself later on, YN,” he cautioned you one more time. “I have no wish to hurt you, my love.”

You smiled at him, loosening his grip on your wrists and gently caressing his face. “I know, and I trust you.”

With a sigh, Zhongli stood up straight and scooped you from your place. Carrying you on his arms, he then dropped you unceremoniously on the bed with an ungraceful plop. He gazed at you from above; the power of his eyes never waning.

Because of how dark it was, you have never noticed that he was naked all over. But with the light shining just to the side, you could see his dragon features much more clearly now—dark scales scattered all over his skin, golden horns on his head, sharp claws for hands and feet, as well a tail which was moving back and forth. Shifting your eyes downward, you promptly bit your lip.

You begin to feel apprehensive. It was natural that his dick is much bigger than his human form, but could that even fit inside you? Would you even survive after being fucked with that?

“Zhongli…um….just a moment—"

“You have been warned, YN,” Zhongli finally said as he crawled above you, never breaking eye contact. “I will no longer hold myself back.”

Pining both your wrists above your head, Zhongli cupped your cheeks and captured your lips in a harsh yet searing kiss. His tongue was immediately against yours, exploring your mouth and licking your lips which he had missed for so many months.

He had your breath knocked out of you immediately, as you struggled to keep up with the rapidly electrifying pace he had set. His hands were all over your body as he kept his lips close to yours as if he was trying to devour you. Zhongli wasn’t kidding when he told you he was going to be rough.

Like a rabid beast, he quickly made work of your clothes; ripping them open with his sharp claws as he jumped from your lips to your neck—his favorite place to mark you. He knew every sensitive pulse to suck and nip at; tongue and lips meandering at every dip and rise of the muscles on your neck. Soon enough, he had left it with dark splotches of color on his wake, keening at his handiwork as if it had satisfied the animal in him.

In the sea of silken sheets and two bodies intertwined, you arched to his touch, loving how his mouth descended to your breast, flicking his tongue at your pert nipple. You could feel waves upon waves of arousal as he assaulted you lavishly with his mouth and lips—making sure he worships every inch of your body.

“Z-Zhongli…!”

You could feel his horns touch your skin, his tail twirling around your leg to spread them open; ready for him when he crosses that bridge. It didn’t help how he kept on tracing your skin with the blunt side of his claws, fascinated at how your flesh dipped; at how he was only one push behind before he draws out blood. But you were becoming increasingly sensitive the more he kept on marking your whole body and it only served to add a distinct kind of pleasure from his mouth and tongue.

He was right, this was different from everything you had done so far. This was feral, animalistic and unrestrained. All his past gentle touches were gone, only to be replaced but such an intensity that kept you panting.

“I suppose it is time to get you ready for me.”

Releasing your wrists so he can spread you open, Zhongli gazed up at you as he tore off your underwear, tossing the offending fabric to some corner of the room. You both could see how drenched you were, with him smirking at you as he dipped. And just like he said, he didn’t hold himself back.

In an instant, his tongue was around your clit; sucking and licking at the sensitive nub. You arched on the bed, your hands on his horns as you tried to hide your lustful cries. He growled at you from below, the vibrations eliciting a novel sensation which only made you even more aroused.

“Zhong…li…p-please! Wait—”

You were rapidly getting lightheaded from the sheer pleasure of his tongue, your body shaking as he swiped up your cunt, saving every drop of your juices leaking out. He kept your legs open with his strong claws, making you unable to do anything but submit to his ministrations.

Since he couldn’t insert his digits in you, he pushed his tongue into your hole; the wriggling sensation making your eyes turn. It was incredible how he felt; face buried in your cunt as he kept on licking you like a starved man.

“Oh god….! Please…please! Zhongli! I’m close…! I—”

With toes curled, you shut your eyes tight as your mouth flew open for a loud moan. Each pulse of your orgasm engulfing you with pleasure as Zhongli went on without stopping; electricity running underneath your skin.

Just like that, Zhongli pulled away and straddled you between his legs. His burning feral eyes looking down on you as he pumped his cock right before your face. You knew what he was planning to do.

“Open your mouth.”

Unable to deny him despite how lightheaded you are, you opened your lips and slowly took him in, accommodating his large girth and trying not to choke. It wasn’t like this was your first time but you were sucking off a monster of a cock, and your mouth can only fit so much of it.

Twirling your tongue around the tip, you did the best that you could. You knew where he was most sensitive in and kept attacking those places with your tongue. Licking up his shaft and sucking on a prominent vein, you slowly began to enter a lull of arousal—all you could think of was sucking him off, loving how he grinds himself inside your mouth with a guttural groan.

With his claws gripping your head, Zhongli pushed even harder, making you deepthroat him and gagging at how forceful it was. He kept on fucking your mouth, his large dick hitting the back of your throat at every thrust. It seemed painful and it was, as tears streamed down your cheeks, but you were also getting off of it, your cunt once again drenched.

You loved how full your mouth was of him, how the pain and the pleasure melded together into an incomprehensible yet hedonistic sensation. He was rough but you loved it.

Suddenly however, Zhongli pulled out from your mouth, his cock bobbing on his toned stomach. He gazed down at you who seemed to have woken up from a trance with watery eyes and pre-cum stained face.

“That’s enough. I think you’re ready.”

Dazed, you could only watch as he returned to his previous position; rubbing his cock on your drenched cunt. Every time he touches your clit, you groaned in delight—your writhing figure only served to push him further into carnality.

Without any warning, he sheathed his dick inside of you in one sharp thrust as you cried out so loudly from the sudden stimulation. He was so thick and you were so full of him in an instant; your cunt quivering from almost cumming.

“Z-Zhong…li…! Nnngh!”

The image of you underneath him—back arched and face in pure ecstasy—Zhongli could no longer stop himself. You were clenching around him so tightly; the warmth of your folds urging him to fuck you senseless.

And he did. Pulling almost all the way out, Zhongli then pounded back into roughly; grunting at how you felt so good around him. He continued to thrust into you, setting up a rough and harsh pace as he chased his own high.

“You take me in so well, YN,” he whispered as he bent down, your leg hanging on his shoulders. “Hang in there, love.”

All you could feel was him inside you, grazing on your most sensitive spots; turning you delirious with pleasure. He was so big, stretching you to your limits and it felt so good as he kept with his unrelenting thrusts; your cries fueling him to push harder.

His lips were on yours once again; determined to have them swollen with his intense kisses. He had long been waiting for this—every night where he had only had his hand to relieve him; he would think of you in this exact position. But now that he could finally be one with you, he couldn’t help revel in the absolute bliss of your embrace.

With his mouth, he continued where he left off on your breasts; giving the pert nipples more attention with a little bite. You could only scream at the sudden stimulation as it paired perfectly well with his every violent thrust; once again nearing you to the brink of climax.

“Z-Zhongli….Zhongli…! Aah…please…I can’t! It’s…too much!”

“No…” he growled at you, his claws now on your hips, easily manhandling you as he kept on pounding again and again. “I won’t stop.”

Skin slapping against skin was heard all over the room other than your hoarse whimpers and his deep groans. Limbs trembling at the overstimulation, you could only grasp on the sheets as Zhongli pleasured himself inside of you.

You were close…so close to climax that it only took one harsh thrust for you to come undone; screaming and clenching around him like a vice grip.

In his eyes, you were so beautiful, so erotic as he watched your orgasm wash over you like a tidal wave. He can’t help but think of how you would look like filled up with his seed, how he would breed into you until you bear him children.

Zhongli immediately felt you tighten up; groaning as he also felt his own orgasm upon him. As the both of you connected glances, he pushed himself further into you, his pace becoming more erratic.

“Nghh…! Take my seed…YN…!”

He moaned as he shoved deep inside of you, his thick cock filling you up with his warm seed. You convulsed once again, loving the way he was cumming inside of you, your eyes seeing nothing but stars.

Breathing in an out, you tried to calm your wildly beating heart as he pulled out. You sighed at the sudden emptiness, already missing how he felt inside you. Trying to find his eyes, you were able to exchange glances as you laid on the bed, breathless.

 However, he only returned your fucked out expression with a smirk, which only became more devilish with the slits in his eyes.  He could see his cum beginning to leak out from your hole; the image like a drug in his system, sending him into overdrive.

“Did you think we’re already done?” he asked as he turned you around, your ass high up on the air. “That would hardly get you pregnant, my love.”

With those words, he plunged his still hard dick back inside of you who was keening at the sudden stretch.

“…mnn…Zhongli…!” you cried. “I…I’m still sensitive!”

He only chuckled at your protests. Leaning down, he took a bite of your shoulder, and then began to look on the indentations he left.

“Did you conveniently forget the fact that I am a dragon in heat?” he asked, leaving another set of love bites on your shoulder blades. “I will stop at nothing until you are filled to the brim with my seed.”

“…Z-Zhongli…wait…!”

Your husband once again moved roughly, his lips now busy with decorating your back with his marks. Tonight, you will be full of him—his scent, his marks, his seed—you belong to him and no one else.

For the rest of the night, he did exactly what he promised. Zhongli kept on fucking you over and over, and cumming inside you every single time. He seemed to have endless stamina, and kept on going for hours on end. The both of you tried every position possible—from you riding him to him fucking you on his lap—there was no respite.

It was when you heard the roosters crow and the bright singing of the birds that Zhongli finally stopped. Buried on stained sheets and throes of pillows, he finally collapsed beside you who was still trembling from your last orgasm—how many times was it? You had already lost count.

“Have you calmed down now?” you asked, still breathless as you felt him creep a hand around your waist to pull you into a tight snuggle.

Your husband hummed. “Yes. For now, that is.

“So there’s more?”

He kissed the nape of your neck now adorned by his bitemarks. “I did precisely tell you that I am in heat, darling. Heats do not last for a night.”

You sighed at his reply and then turned to place a chaste kiss on his lips. “I’ll be ready then.”

With your words, Zhongli only chuckled, nuzzling against you. “It is still beyond me how you easily agreed. There is no doubt that you will be with child after this.”

A smile crept on your lips.

“Well, actually…that was what I was hoping to talk to you about,” you replied as you covered his arm with yours. “I was going to say I’ll be resigning from adventuring, and focus on finding work here in Liyue so that we can stay close like this.”

“Oh…” was all he could say as everything fell into its rightful places.

“It turned out quite better than expected, didn’t it?” you told him with a grin.

“It did,” Zhongli replied. “Now get some rest, we’ll continue once you wake up.”

[seriouslysnape]

Hi i would like to request severus x reader where its their first time together and reader guides sev bc he‘s a virgin ?

Okay, so I’ve been putting this one off. It’s such a good idea, I wasn’t sure how to tackle it. However, I’ve been thinking on it for a few days, and I think I did this request justice!

__

A Fast Learner

Severus Snape x Fem. Reader

Warnings: Smut.

Word Count: 3,066

“Shh. It’s okay.”

__

He had become very self conscious about it over the years. Well, he was self conscious about a lot of things, but especially something like this. It was embarrassing that he had made it this far in life and had never been intimate with someone. He knew it was mainly his own fault. He had spent his life saving himself for someone who wasn’t even around anymore, and someone who never loved him the way he did her. 

Now, he was well into his adulthood years and he had yet to have sex with anyone. He had quite honestly accepted long ago that he’d never allow anyone to take his virginity. To most people, a person at his age with their so-called “v-card” still intact was odd and even a bit weird. Even if he did find someone he cared enough about, he would have NO idea what to do and it would be so off-putting that they’d likely run for the hills. Severus, as disappointed as he was, was convinced he’d live out the rest of his days as a virgin. 

That was until he fell in love with you.

He admittedly didn’t expect it. You seemed rather average to him in the beginning. He failed to see how you were any different than anybody else he had ever encountered. The more time he spent with you, though, the more he saw in you. You were probably one of the most patient and understanding people he had ever met. You were an efficient communicator and an even better listener. You were a picture perfect person. He eventually found himself in a relationship with you that exceeded having dinner and private talks in each other’s offices. 

For the first time in Severus Snape’s life, he had a steady girlfriend. 

As thrilling and exciting as that was, it also caused a whole new set of worries for him. Having a girlfriend meant that he was going to have to be fully intimate at some point. It wasn’t something he could keep putting off the way he had been. You had a gut feeling that Severus had never had sex before. At first, you brushed his hesitation off to just being nervous. However, you began to notice the way he visibly would shrink away any time your make out sessions began to heat up. If nothing else, it explained why your relationship seemed to move at an aggravatingly tortuous pace. 

He’d become fidgety when you tried to reach for his belt or when your giggles turned into breathy moans. He would simmer down the situation before it could ever evolve into more, which he hated to do. He knew you were dismayed whenever he did so. You were a beautiful, young woman who had needs. It wasn’t fair that you had to push your needs aside because of him. He definitely didn’t want you to begin to think that it had something to do with you. 

He had never told you upfront that he was a virgin, and he hoped that maybe he would never have to. Whenever he did build up the courage to make love, perhaps he could get away with not saying anything. That dream was rather short lived when you finally questioned him one night after he turned you away once more. 

You had been snuggled up next to him on the sofa in his living quarters, just chatting after a long day when your kisses became a little more heated and you ultimately ended up in his lap. Your knees were on either side of him so you were in a straddle position, kissing him with passion and desire. He kissed back as always, but you could feel the hint of uncertainty as his lips worked with yours. You kept in mind that this was usually the part where he’d stop you or get himself out of it. Still, you rolled your hips downwards into his crotch, your fingers finding his belt and beginning to unbuckle it. 

As expected, he stopped kissing you and gently gripped your wrist. That was his signal for you to stop, to which you would normally just smile reassuringly and move on. However, you pulled your hand from his grasp and rested both of them on his shoulders. 

You were intently looking at him, reading his guilt-stricken expression.

“Severus,” You began; “Is there something you want to tell me?”

He knew exactly what you meant. It was only a matter of time before you began to question him. 

“I don’t know what you mean.” He said, letting the lie slip through his teeth.

You never averted your eyes from him. He wasn’t leaving until you obtained some answers. You wrapped a lock of his charcoal colored hair around your finger and twirled it mildly. 

“Most men barely wait for their girlfriend to make a move on them. With you, it seems like you don’t want me like that.” You pointed out.

Severus was quick to answer, because this was exactly the thing he didn’t want you to think.

“No, no. I do. I really do.” He said truthfully.

Make no mistake, Severus did want to have that level of intimacy with you. He just couldn’t push himself to that point. He never wanted to disappoint you in any way, and he just knew his skills were probably little to none. You were confused at his response.

“Then why do you always push me away when I try?” You queried.

He sighed heavily. It was a fair question for you to ask. He would’ve probably asked the same if he were in your shoes. It was humiliating, but he knew he couldn’t hide it any longer. He took a breath and told you that he was a virgin. He half expected you to get up and walk out or go tell every living soul you knew. Instead, you smiled kindly and let out a soft laugh that wasn’t at all intended to be a mock towards his confession. He clenched his teeth as he awaited your reply. You moved your right hand to cup the side of his face.

“Oh, Severus...is that all?” You asked sweetly.

A feeling of surprise and relief fizzled through his body. He had been waiting for a much heavier, dramatic reaction. 

“Well, I...it’s not really something I thought I’d ever tell you.” He explained, avoiding your gaze.

“You didn’t think you could keep it from me forever, did you?” You wondered. He didn’t respond, so you went on; “It’s nothing to be ashamed of. I can help you.” 

He let out an irritated huff. You could tell he was beyond embarrassed.

“You shouldn’t have to.” He said.

You kissed his forehead, encouraging him to embrace the situation a little. 

“I want to. It’ll benefit more than just me. Your first time should be special. I want to make it special,” You acknowledged; “But only if you want to. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

He was at a crossroads here. He wanted to do this, but he was still nervous. There were a million ways he could go wrong and mess up, but he also never thought there’d be anyone willing to offer a hand to him as an adult virgin. He realized that he loved you too much to keep treating you this way...so he agreed. He couldn’t help but nervously chuckle at your blinding smile. You were eager to teach him. He’d be a master in no time. 

“I promise we’ll go slow.” You declared, whipping your shirt off of your head. 

Severus felt a surge of heat go through his body at your breasts that were now VERY prevalent to him. His eyes widened and his stare lingered on them like a kid in a candy store. He looked over the black, lacy material of your bra and how it perfectly accented them. His cheeks burned a fiery red that he tried to hide, but to no avail. You bit your bottom lip to hold back a smile.

“Blushing already, Professor?” You asked teasingly. 

If he was already this flustered, you couldn’t wait to see him when you got to the good stuff. His eyes snapped back to yours, he sheepishly apologized.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

You hushed him, putting a finger to his lips.

“Shh. It’s okay.” 

You took his hands, bringing them around to your back. You maneuvered his fingers to unclasp your bra, and you slowly pushed the straps down your arms until it fell to the floor. His cheeks turned a darker shade of red now that you were fully exposed to him. He didn’t even try to confine his stare now. You spoke softly. 

“You can touch them if you want.” You granted.

“Touch them?” He asked.

You giggled lightly.

“Yeah, S. With your hands...or your mouth.”

He decided to go with the first option, not confident enough in his skills yet. His hands were trembling a tad, as he brought them up to your chest. He was awkward at first, sort of just fondling with them in an amateurish way. Your nipples grew hard at the feeling of his large hands on your soft skin. He wasn’t sure what made him do it, but he leaned forward and took one of your nipples into his mouth. He sucked firmly and swirled his tongue over your breast. A satisfied gasp fell from your lips, startling him and causing him to stop.

“Are you alright? Did that hurt?” He asked frantically.

You let out another laugh.

“Sev, I was moaning.” You told him.

He shyly grinned.

“Oh.” 

He took your nipple into his mouth again, his confidence slowly but surely beginning to build. You brought a hand to the back of his head.

“Kiss my neck.” You instructed.

He nodded, moving his lips up to your neck and kissed where you guided his head to go. You grinded your hips down onto his lap, a groan falling from his throat. You could feel his growing erection through his pants. You smirked, knowing the real show was about to begin. 

“Let’s move to the bedroom.” You said, persuading him up from the sofa.

You took him by the hand, leading him to his large bed. You debated for a moment over what the best approach to this was. You thought for a minute that maybe it would be best if he stayed on the bed and you rode him, but you figured that he wouldn’t learn much out of that, however it would be pleasurable for him. You wanted his first time to be special, as you had previously mentioned. You decided to go traditional missionary, that way you could talk him through it. 

You laid on your back, laughing at the way Severus was ogling over you. You motioned for him with your finger, and he timidly climbed onto the bed. He instinctively placed one of his knees on either side of you, which was a good start. 

“Move down a little.” You requested. 

He shifted down a bit so you could unfasten his belt and his pants. He helped you get them off, throwing them aside. You did away with your skirt and panties, now fully naked in front of him. He was fully hard now, your hand palming at his evident erection. He let out a soft groan, feeling amazed at how he had never been touched by anyone else like this before. 

He sprang free once his boxers were thrown aside to join the growing pile of clothes on the floor. Your eyes gazed at his length, raking him over. You snapped out of your trance, taking him into your hand. You stroked slowly and softly, just enough so he could see how it felt.

You knew this was going to be a tedious process for the first time, you didn’t want to completely overwhelm him and ruin it for him. He let out a stuttered sigh at the feeling of his dick in your hand. He had of course rubbed himself like this before, but it was totally different when it was being done to him. His sounds were alone enough to make your sex become slick with wetness, but you reached for one of his free hands.

“Take these two fingers,” You said, pushing his side three fingers down, just leaving his middle and ring finger. You brought his fingers to your heated sex; “Now, just gently-”

You were stunned when he began rubbing in circles, slowly but firmly. You wriggled underneath him, not prepared for him to do it so well. You let out a groan at the waves of pleasure building through you, he kept his eyes on you with a rather concerned expression. He was still afraid of hurting you or messing up. 

You stopped stroking him, taking his wrist and directing his fingers towards your clit. He knew he had hit the spot when you breathed out his name in a way he had never heard you before.

“Severus...” You exhaled.

He felt a burst of pride. Maybe he really could get the hang of this. He could feel the wetness spreading around his fingers, which is when you knew to stop him and move on with your instructions. You were beginning to realize that Severus was a fast learner. He’d have this in no time. You were a little breathless now, which swelled him with even more confidence.

“Take one of my legs and wrap it around your waist.” You said.

He took your right thigh into his hand, securing and hooking your leg around him. He noted that was how he’d be sure that you wouldn’t get too far from him. He was beginning to put pieces together.

“Okay, when you’re ready just push yourself in. Go slow at first.” You said, lining him up with your entrance. 

His tip just barely was touching you, he looked to you, stricken with a bit of panic.

“[Y/N], I don’t want to hurt you.” He said, registering that this was the part he was most scared of.

You shook your head. Half in desperation for him and half to reassure him. You put his hands on your hips so he’d be steady once he did start to move. 

“You’re not going to hurt me, Sev. I promise,” You said truthfully; “Just go at your pace. I’ll tell you if it hurts.”

You knew it wouldn’t, but it made him feel better to hear you say it. He took a breath, and leisurely pushed himself in as far as he could. You both let out a synchronous moan. He didn’t move for a second, wrapping his head around how damn good this felt. You didn’t expect him to stretch and fill you the way he did, so you were a little scattered when you spoke next.

“S-Sev, pull out a little, and then go back in again.” You said.

He gingerly pulled out, and went back in. He watched each time he moved in and out. He saw the way your eyelashes fluttered each time he went back in, and how your grip on his bicep tightened. You weren’t used to such a slow speed, but you didn’t want him to go fast if he didn’t feel like he could yet. However, you did try to convince him to pick it up a little.

“A little faster. If you want.” You said, really hoping he’d get the hint. 

He did get it, and began to rock his hips faster, filling in the pauses that he had been taking between tortuous thrusts. He had figured out a rhythm now, his movements becoming monotonous, but gloriously good. He watched as your breasts bounced each time he pounded back into you, and how your mouth fell open with noises that were music to his ears. 

You knew Severus was getting the hang of it, so you gave him another request.

“Take my leg and put it on your shoulder.” 

He gave you a puzzled look, thinking that there was no way that would actually do anything. Still, he draped your leg over his shoulder and he thought he might just collapse. He was slamming into you at a new angle that was a total game changer, and created a whole new feeling of pleasure. 

He knew sex was supposed to feel good, but he never thought it would feel THIS good. It was a bit of an accident, but he rotated his hips and you let out a high-pitched shriek that even he couldn’t mistake as a bad sound. You smirked at how he was now hitting your sensitive spot each time he went back in.

“Severus, you feel so good. Holy- yes, that’s perfect.” You cried out.

He didn’t dare speed up or slow down, if he had it right, he wasn’t going to mess with it. He continued to pound into you, alerted when he felt himself twitch inside of you. He assumed that meant that something was happening. Your own inner coil was growing hot, which was a delight to you, because you honestly weren’t sure at first if you would even finish since it was his first time. You arched your back to meet his thrusts, both of your releases coming quickly.

“Darling, I think I’m about to-” He was cut off by another one of your moans.

He felt the muscles in your leg contract, as you came around him. He thrusted a few more times before he did as well. A flash flood crashed over every nerve in his body. Your arms rested above your head as your chest heaved with each inhale. He slid out of you, falling next to you on the mattress. His head was spinning.

He had just lost his virginity. Something he had kept so private and locked away. He thought that maybe he’d be a little sad, but he wasn’t. He was beyond joyed to have lost it to someone he cared about so much. He leaned over, kissing your neck and nibbling on your earlobe.

“How...how was that?” He asked, a little apprehensive to hear your answer.

You looked over at him, a flashy smile and a voice full of honesty.

“Severus Snape,” You said; “You are one fast learner.”

[crybabykiko]

Hot Fuss, Full Panic

Pink Lips: Semi Eita x f!Reader

Warnings: this banner being bad, alcohol/drinking, sex under the influence but really it’s like maybe 2 shots for liquid courage- idk of lipstick counts as marking but fuck it we ball, unprotected sex, sex outside... in an alleyway, orgasm denial on his end, semi calls reader ‘toots’ yay sleazy musicians

Wc: 2.7k... well 2698 to be exact but we round up in this house

A/N: yes this is named after both a killers album and a lipstick. For the lovely Two in the Pink, One in the Kink Collab by the Sewer. I loved writing this it’s been done for weeks now and I’m so excited to see everyone else’s! Check the mlist here and support all the other creators, bc it’s v sexy! ~squeak squeak~ 💕

“You all alone tonight?”

“I’m alone every night, Sem,” you chuckled, continuing to clamor through empty glasses, wiping the sticky, rum-coated bar clean. Knowing him by name, you quickly poured up his usual gently sliding it his way. Jameson & Ginger Ale, for nights when he performs- any other time he’d get through the night on a few Dark n’ Stormys, saving at least 2 Kamikazes for you throughout the night until he stumbled back into whatever sewer hot pseudo-troubled musicians came from- probably one downtown, not too far from you.

“Well yeah, but no one’s bought you a shot tonight…”

He raised the glass to his lips, slowly knocking back down the stiff one you poured. He grimaced, clearing his throat and pushing the glass back toward you, blowing out a whistle as he cleared his throat.

“It’s Valentine’s Day, I don’t think anyone would like it if their date bought the bartender a shot.”

He pointed to the silver bottle of Milagro on the top shelf, sending you a wink. Taking the hint, you let out a half laugh- grabbing two double shot glasses and tiny slivers of lime, pouring both glasses to the rim.

“To a day just like any other,” you sighed, leveling yourself with him. Your disdain for February 14th was just as palpable as the months of innuendo laced conversation and shared shots with the local band’s d-list ‘celebrity’ frontman- the mutual desire pulling ahead by just a hair.

“To a wallet full of tips and a bar full of people getting lucky,” he shot back, tapping his glass with yours. The tequila was smooth, but being your first shot of the night, the burn was present and crisp as it went down, sending a shiver up your back. You slapped the shot down, pink lipstick stain imprinting the glass as you harshly sucked down your lime. Semi slid a $20 across the bar to you. As you neatly tucked it in your bra and took the glasses, he stood up to adjust his shirt and get his bearings.

“Have a good set!” you called after him. But he was already in the crowd. A sliver of light expanded and disappeared as you watched him slip into the backstage opening.

“Here ya go boys- on the house.”

The small tray you carried into the bar’s makeshift green room was filled with glasses of pink drinks, each adorned with a little lime slice and sugared rim.

“Pink Whitney… how original,” one of his bandmates remarked, knocking back the glass and setting it on top of a rusted filing cabinet.

“Be grateful,” you scoffed. “It’s the only thing I could manage to sneak past here for free.”

A chorus of sighs and clinking glasses resounded in the room, reassuring you the band would be happy regardless of what drew alcohol you bought them for the night. As long as the guys had an ounce of liquid courage before their set, you knew it’d go off without a hitch. You noticed one of the glasses still full on your tray- and Semi was nowhere in sight.

“Hey where’s-“ you started to ask, not really expecting an answer.

“Probably out back smoking,” a voice answered before you could even get his name past your lips. Picking up the small offering, you had half the mind to guzzle the glass down on your own- after all, it was already starting to water itself down. You poked your head up against the tiny door window, peering out slightly before sticking your head out to find the musician in the middle of his usual pre-show activities.

“There you are.” You spotted him.

He was leaning against the wall of the brick paved alleyway, cigarettes pursed between his lips.

“You shouldn’t be smoking those y’know,” you teased, bounding over to him. Finishing his drag, his smoke plumed into the crisp night air. His eyebrow cocked toward you as he placed it back to his lips. Gingerly, your own fingers scissored around the white tube, pulling it from his mouth and bringing it to your own lips with a soft smile, taking a deep inhale.

“They’re bad for your voice,” you exhaled away from his face and into the night. The mouthpiece was now coated in the same rosy markings as your shot glass. You stamped it out, much to his dismay.

“You got something better?” He asked, cocking an eyebrow.

With a pursed-lipped smile, you pushed the pink concoction to his lips, the sweat from the ice causing the sugar to run down the rim and over your hands. As Semi sucked the drink down, the glass was ripped from his lips and replaced by two of your saccharine coated digits. His tongue suckled your fingers as you pulled them out with a wet smack, neatly tucking them into your own mouth, then trailing the hand down your body to dry at the hem of your skirt. Your eyes fell just in front of his, glossed over in a heavily lecherous gaze. His lips found yours suddenly, hungrily- the fading flavor of pink lemonade and sugar on both your tongues as his body caged yours into the wall. Your face felt hot and your head was barely swimming from the rush of the shots you’d taken prior, but the surprise of the contact had knocked enough air out of you that you were gasping into the kiss, clawing at the back of his dip-dyed head of hair. The small glass in your hand slipped through your fingers, shattering and sending shards scattering against the asphalt beneath you.

The back door swung open, a head peeking out just enough behind the frame.

“Yo, Semi!” It was one of his bandmates, sticking his head out of the door. “Hurry it up we’re on in 10!”

He clamped a head over your mouth, sticking his head back to yell unintelligibly- or at least you couldn’t hear with the blood rushing to your ears and heartbeat pounding in your head. The loud thud of the heavy door tore through your spine, snapping you back into this present moment: the one in which you’d basically just made out in a cold, damp alleyway with Eita Semi- on Valentine’s Day. Of all days, you just had to do something about the months of mounting sexual tension between you two… on Valentine’s Day.

He moved his hand, freeing your lips as he checked to see how clear the coast was before turning back to you.

“I think I can get you there in 8,” the way he whispered reverberated in your chest and core almost simultaneously. His lips connected to your neck, slowly tracing upward, stopping to nip at your earlobe.

“Whaddaya say?”

He was telling you more than asking at this point, closing the finite space between you and already starting to slowly hike up your skirt with his fingertips. His eyes had become tenfold darker than originally, and the head rush you were feeling left you little to no time to oblige, not that you didn’t want to anyway. Your head began to loll to the side as it flew back, allowing him more access to your neck, his tongue gliding against the exposed skin while his calloused fingers began toying at your already exposed, and already slick pussy. You were putty in his hands at that point- no matter if you never wore underwear in the first place.

“Fuck,” Semi hissed against your collarbones. “No panties and you’re already nice and wet for me, hm? What a nasty little thing… good girl.”

He traced the pad of his index finger up and down your slit, collecting your essence as you shuddered yet again under his tough, a soft whine spilling from your throat. He couldn’t hold back a laugh, teasing you gently while grinding his bulging cock into the soft flesh of your exposed thighs. Your hands balled at the fabric of his shirt as you lifted it just enough to find his belt buckle, fidgeting with it and having absolutely no care for the heavy metal pieces rapping against your knuckles- if anything the small twinges of pain only added to the euphoria you were already starting to drown in.

“Hurry it up Y/N, we only got 7 minutes left…”

Obeying his command you unzipped his jeans, immediately hooking your thumb between the waistband of his boxers and the skin of his lower abs. You started to sink to your knees as you freed his cock from the confines that held him, mouth already watering. Just as you parted your lips, though, a harsh tug of your hair pulled you back onto your feet, spinning you and pressing your face against the cold brick. Your skirt was now pulled completely up and at your hips as Semi pushed your back down, arching you at his perfect level and holding your arm behind your back.

“Ah-ah,” he reprimanded with a smirk, sending two rough slaps to the meat of your ass. “Not enough time for that toots- maybe after the show.”

He lined himself up with your now glistening hole, teasing it with the tip for a few swipes before beginning to prod at your pretty pink insides. The stretch was slow and searing, but you were so wet that your walls immediately sucked him in, offering barely to no resistance. Your face pushed impossibly further into the wall in front of you as he started to build up an even pace, the head of his cock just barely grazing against the spot inside of that would render you absolutely and irrevocably cockdrunk.

“S-sem-ah-fuck!” Just as you started to speak he pulled out completely, arching your back even more as he buried himself deep in your aching pussy. Your back arched like that of a cat’s- leaning into the sensation with a wild, lewd mewl. He was speeding up now, groaning as he watched you coat his cock with a milky white sheen.

“That’s it,” he spanked you several more times, coaxing you to fuck yourself on his length as he spread your ass apart for a better view. “You think you can get yourself off on my cock in 5 minutes? C’mon, you can do it- go ahead, it’s all yours…”

You felt yourself growing even slicker at his words, his voice was like velvet and he wasn’t even singing. You started working your hips so fervently, so earnestly against him that the pace you were going had you white knuckling the railing next to you for stability as he continued to pull you down onto him with the hand behind your back. The smacking of skin against skin filled the air of the dark, damp alley, echoing out into the street as you could see the hazy lights of cars passing by though your eyelashes. His hands found your hair, pulling you up and back into him, matching the speed of his own thrusts to yours.

You could barely get out anything other than choked out moans and gasps. As you got closer and closer to your high, you started to feel dizzier and dizzier. You could feel your insides slowly starting to flutter as your conquest slipped from where you needed him, the displeased moan was halfhearted as he flipped you back around, closely holding your head into his chest.

Semi hoisted your leg up, holding it up at the knee, pushing the head of his cock just past your gleaming lips, walls greedily pulling him in with a slick smacking sound made by your wetness.

“Please, I’m so close- ‘mso fucking close,” you sobbed, rubbing your face against his chest. He smelled like cigarettes, cardamom and sweat. Combined with the carnal scent of sex wafting through the outside air, you gritted your teeth as your walls started to spasm and clench around him.

“Good girl, ngh- good fucking girl.” His praise had you spilling over, gushing over his cock with a shrill cry of his name into the night. He didn’t ease up, fucking you though the high, clutching you closer as your body went limp on your comedown.

“Time’s up, toots- but I’m glad you got what you wanted.”

Your breath was shaky and haggard as he pulled out of you, neatly trying to tuck his still hard cock into his pants. You were too hazy to make a point at how he hadn’t cum, but he helped you into your feet and up the stairs leading back to the green room. He picked up his guitar, swinging open the door and letting you go through first, leaving you sprinting on wobbly legs to your post at the bar.

“Y/N!” He called after you. You whipped your head back, mouth still ajar and eyes glossed over as your thighs continued to tremble.

“Stick around after we finish the set- I’ve still got to get what I want,” he said, flashing you a smile dripping with self- righteousness.

You still nodded though.

Creeping back behind the bar, you stopped just in time to not be noticed by the other 2 girls working with you that night, falling right into the chaos and clamor of everyone getting a drink before the house lights started to dim.

The lights on staged tuned a neon pink as Semi and his band took the stage, the chorus of screaming fans and adoring groupies filled the small space so much so that it felt like a stadium show, so much for the feeling of being a small town secret.

“Hey everyone, we are Hot Fuss”, he said into the mic, the cheers once again following as he set up with his guitar, the strap resting softly against the three undone buttons of his shirt- the shirt covered in the soft pink that previously adorned your lips. It was Everywhere, perfect little smeared kiss-marks, ever present reminders of how he had you bent over in an alleyway not even five minutes earlier, fucking you within an inch of your sanity. He shifted the guitar to rest behind him, exposing his chest, and the perfect imprint of your lips adorned his soft skin, the light giving it a glow almost, another round of mostly feminine squeals pierced the air again as someone whistled at the sight of Semi’s tousled physique.

“What’d you get up to Tonight, Semi-Semi?” His drummer teased, egging on the crowd. Your cheeks were so hot you felt like you’d melt. Semi just laughed, taking a soft strum while tuning his guitar onstage, leaning into the microphone and sending a look toward the back of the bar.

“I’m just dressed for the theme,” he joked, winking at several girls in the crowd. He strummed a couple more notes, pushing up against the microphone stand- and showing of his still present bulge, thick as the mic handle in his hand.

“We’re very grateful that all of you chose to be here tonight instead of getting laid,” he began, keeping the banter engaging while the rest of the band continued to set up.

“The night is young though, I guess.  And hey, the bar’s still open,” he looked back again, this time seeming to scan for you. You could feel him on your skin still, his touch was feather light, yet lingered on your skin so heavily.

“Ask your bartenders to help you get lucky!” The crowd laughed again, this time earning a lot of raunchy cheers from the men in the audience.

“All right enough shooting the shit though, you all came here for music, right?”

Loud applause filled the bar again as you stopped to watch him, propping your elbow up and onto the bar, fixating your eyes to see him in the shades of pink across a sea of heads.

“Well then let’s do it. Our first song for the night is very fitting…”

He found you. Your eyes locked on one another and stayed still. You could feel your heart freeze as you ran cold. He winked at you.

“Sing along if you know this one… it’s called Valentine.”

[cdroloisms]

Sooo... how about that reveal that c!Sam wasn’t feeding c!Dream? I mean, we all knew it was coming, but still. The auto food dispenser probably broke or smtg bc when c!Sam came down, c!Dream asked if he was there to give them potatoes. (Also with him being shaken up by learning c!Tommy is alive, c!Sam might not remember or care to feed c!Dream, who has none of his stores of potatoes left.) So, assuming the dispenser is broken and he doesn’t know, why would he come down in the first place? 🟩⛏?

hello anon !! yeah that reveal ,, dang, we already knew that c!sam had presumably been starving c!dream, but to see not only c!dream but c!sam confirm it as well as it having lasted AT LEAST a week ,, d a n g . they are Not pulling any punches in this arc (which, i mean, judging on the q stream, isnt exactly surprising anymore,, but still)

in the prison guard stream, we see how the dispenser works - it’s not automatic as much as it’s remote, as c!sam or the prison guards still need to press a button in order to dispense food. he also says “i havent even been around to feed the prisoner” or something along those lines in tommy’s stream, so we can conclude that the decision to deprive c!dream of food after c!tommy’s death is INTENTIONAL,, which i mean. again. yikes. 

anyway, here’s a snippet of c!dream finding out that the “automatic” feeder isnt as automatic as he might’ve thought - here, the dispenser + crying obsidian are installed at around the same time, so it’s between bad and sapnap’s visit

tw: starvation, disordered eating, abuse, mental illness, self-hatred, toxic relationship, gaslighting, disturbing imagery, dark content, c!sam/warden!sam critical (again, be careful with the content warnings)

Dream stares up at the hole in the obsidian, barely able to make out a glint of metal in the dark chute. The dispenser, just as expected, doesn’t respond to his glare, refuses to whir and click in the way that indicates food, and Dream bites his tongue, mumbles curses under his breath.

“Prick,” he blows a breath through his gritted teeth, only more irrationally angry when the dispenser, as expected, ignores him. “Some automatic dispenser, Warden.”

The walls don’t respond. Nothing responds, here, besides the dark dark thoughts swirling in his brain, and he thinks he’d prefer it if those didn’t - or maybe he doesn’t, because company is company, even if said company is the same litany of blood anger revenge pain you deserve this you deserve all of this you have destroyed the world now lie in the bed you have made pounding at the base of his skull. He drags his hand down his face; every minute is an hour, and every hour is a minute. Time has no meaning when your only frame of reference is eternity.

Even so, even he can tell that it’s been a long time since he’s had food, even by his usual standards - several days, at least, because the ever-present ache of hunger in his gut had swelled into something angrier, demanding, no longer as easy to ignore. Another stabbing round of pain nearly sends him to his knees, and just as he always he does, he clings to the feeling, gathers it into his hands, grabs it by the edges and directs the sharp edges into the words he spits at the indifferent walls. Let the Warden hear him - what can he possibly do?

Just as it always does, the fury in him peters out, drains, leaves him alone in the middle of his cell. He sinks the ground, arms wrapped around his stomach; a part of him wants to laugh at the irony. Some people think of silence as emptiness, void; he knows now that it’s anything but. Silence is suffocating, thick, so present that anything he says seems to get lost within it seconds after leaving his mouth. It grows and pushes into his limbs, becomes a weight tied around his throat, expands into the air in his lungs like a slowly inflating balloon until it’s pressed into every corner and space of the cell, every corner and space of him, taking up so much room that he can hardly breathe around it.

The hunger hollows him out, and the silence fills the space that’s left; Dream wonders how much more there is for him to lose before he’s completely empty, just a husk filled with the same liquid misery that drips down the walls. He wonders if anyone would care- laughs. As if.

“Dream.” The intercom crackles; Dream perks up at the voice, spine straightening against his will, and his hands tighten into fists as he realizes - prime, how pathetic is he, now? The voice deepens, becomes more insistent. “Prisoner.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m here. Or maybe I’m not; you better come and check, yeah?” A humorless smile tugs at his lips, and a static-filled sigh comes through the speaker.

“This isn’t the time for games, Dream.”

Dream rolls his eyes. It’s not exactly the time to be a dick, either, but you don’t see me complaining. A flutter of something warm, joyful, rises in his chest at the sound of something- someone, other than his own voice, and he strangles it with a hand wrapped around his own throat - he won’t let them break him, won’t let himself become desperate enough to crave the attention of a man that hates him - he won’t- he can’t-

“Do you need something? Or were you yelling at the wall for no reason again?” Sam’s voice is steely, indifferent, on a knife’s edge between apathy and anger. “Don’t waste my time, prisoner.”

Dream bites down the snarky reply sitting on his tongue, breathes in, out through his nose until the fury is no longer blinding.

“Your fancy automatic jig is broken. The potato one. It’s not- working.” The hunger fogs his mind, makes it hard to think. He feels caged and weak and pathetic and he hates it.

“That’s because it’s not automatic.” Footsteps echo on the speakers, Dream tapping along to the rhythm before he realizes and stops himself, and a moment later the familiar whirring and clicking of the metal box comes from behind him and a small pile of potatoes fall down and splash into the water. “There. Is that all?”

Dream feels the fury rise, again, but doesn’t quite to keep the words back, this time.

“So what was the point of the whole automatic feeder, asshole? You’ve changed nothing! What’s the difference between that thing and you coming over to my cell besides that you’ve wasted a couple stacks of redstone? Congratu-fucking-lations, you’re a goddamn genius-”

“It’s remote now, so I don’t have to come into your cell.”

“Oh, so it’s just the good ol’ Warden looking for more ways to make the prisoner suffer, huh? Should’ve figured, you fucking self-righteous prick-”

“Dream.”

His mouth shuts with a click, a flash of fear searing through his muscles, white-hot, and by the time he’s blinked back the ringing in his ears the silence has stolen all the words from him, once again. Pathetic, he screams in his head, but his jaw remains firmly locked in place - the Warden’s won, per usual, and they both know it.

“Is that all?” He sounds impatient. Part of Dream wants nothing more than to never hear his voice again, and the other half of him rails at the idea of being alone with his thoughts once more. All of him hates himself, and all of him hates the silence; they’re the only two constants in this place. “You’ll have to speak up if you want anything.”

“How- long was it, since you last gave food?”

Static for a moment, then another. “It’s only been about a day.”

“Bullshit.”

“You’d know if you took care of your clock instead of destroying it, prisoner.”

“I’d know if you were less of a fucking prick.”

“Behave, and you might get it replaced.” The Warden’s breathing is harsh, almost labored - he must be angrier than Dream thought, then. “Speaking of which, you won’t be getting any for a day after this stunt.”

“Ooh, I’m so scared. It’s not like you don’t do this - what, every other day?”

“Do you want food or not?”

Dream’s teeth grind against each other; he breathes in, out. He hates this, hates the potatoes, hates the Warden, hates himself. Hates the way that a part of him recoils at the thought of making the Warden angry at him, reaches desperately for a chance to earn his clock- his approval. Attachments are weakness, he tells his traitorous heart, knowing that it, as always, will fail to stay away.

“Yes. Thank you.” The pleasantry burns on his tongue, tastes worse than the bitterness of raw potatoes that seems to be the only thing it knows, anymore.

“Good-bye, prisoner. Don’t make me come into the cell.”

The intercom cuts off with a click, the space that the static made immediately filled by silence. Dream watches it blankly, jaw sore from how tight it had been clenched, and begins to work his way through the first potato, nibbling at the pale flesh just enough to tide over the worst of the pain.

This is fine, he tells himself, and the walls stare at him impassively. He’s not sure they believe him.

He’s not sure how much longer he can believe himself.

[breakyeol]

Sweet, Sweet Relief

Pairing : chanyeol x reader

Summary: in which your gorgeous best friend knows just what to do to help you relax. 

Warnings: strong language, shy yeol towards the end, explicit sexual content; mild muscle kink?? i think??, dry humping for like two seconds, oral (f. receiving) aka pussy eating king back at it again, fingering, park chanyeol bc the man deserves a warning all his own 

Word Count: 3.3k

a/n; ah yes, best friends to lovers, my favorite cliche. i can’t stop writing for Chanyeol lately?? which really isn’t that out of the ordinary bc the man is literally my muse, but it seems a bit excessive at times yikes. but i also think it’s a good thing because i’m making some leeway with his prince au!!! yay!!! hopefully it won’t be too terribly long of a wait! until then, i hope these drabbles turned one shots will hold you over :) enjoy!

“You’re stressed out.”

It wasn’t a question.

You sighed, head shaking as you spared Chanyeol a glance from the corner of your eye.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re obviously not.” Was his abrupt response, concerned eyes dragging over the length of your tensed features, pausing on the visible lines above your brow and at the corners of your mouth.

He was right, of course. You weren’t alright. In all honesty, you hadn’t been alright for the past month. Your latest assignment was beating the absolute shit out of you, draining your mind and body of all its viable energy and leaving you an exhausted, stressed out disaster of a person.

Unfortunately, you knew that if you admitted it out loud to Chanyeol, he would not let you spend another second staring at your stupid computer screen. But you really had to get the project done by the end of the week or you were totally and royally screwed. And if he couldn’t make you feel better, Chanyeol would end up feeling like shit and that in turn would make you feel even more like shit than you already do and it would be an endless cycle of the two of you feeling like shit and does anybody really need that right now? You were already struggling enough without having an extra pouty, sulking best friend to tend to.

“Chanyeol—“ you began, running your palms over your face as you concocted a number of things to say to get him to stop worrying. But, he didn’t give you the chance.

“I can do it again.”

Your hands fell away from where they’d begun to press against your sore eyes, a look of confusion crossing your features.

“Huh?”

He swallowed, shifting where he sat beside you on the plush sofa. You followed his every movement through narrowed eyes, your confusion building as a shade of pink dusted over his cheeks.

“I–if you want me to... I can do it again.”

It took you a second. To put the pieces together. To remember. For the shock to settle over you. It took a second, but it was with a jolt that you realized what he was talking about. Warmth blossomed beneath your skin, but you forced your expression to fall into that of gentle chiding.

“Yeol. We agreed that it was a one time thing.”

The near rejection had him crumbling in on himself, the blush coating his cheeks intensifying tenfold as he fiddled with his fingers in his lap.

“I know but... I don’t mind. If it helps.” He suddenly straightened his back and you damn near jumped out of your skin as one of his hands fell across your thigh. He stared into your eyes, determination and sincerity burning in his own. “I want to help.”

“Yeah but you don’t have to help like th— ah!” You yelped in surprise as he suddenly pushed you and you fell backwards onto the couch with a soft ‘oof’. “What the h– ell…” your voice gave with an embarrassing crack as Chanyeol crawled on top of you, straddling your hips and caging your head between his arms. The sudden change of position caught you completely off guard, and you found yourself grappling hopelessly to try and get your mind back on track.

“Let me help you, y/n. You know I’m good at it.” His voice had dropped an octave, softening into a near whisper. Heat pooled in your cheek, and you blinked rapidly, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.

Sure he was good —probably one of the best you’d ever had if you were being completely and totally honest—, but accidentally fucking your best friend while you are both wasted and horny beyond rationality is completely different than committing the act while sober and capable of discerning between right and wrong. And this— this had to be wrong.

Even if it felt so deliciously right.

Quickly ridding yourself of the thought, you pressed your palms against his chest with every intention to pushing him away, only to falter at the feeling of taut, bulging muscle beneath your fingertips that you were almost certain hadn’t been there the last time you’d laid your hands on him.

“Have you been working out?”

The question was so out of place in the situation that Chanyeol couldn’t rein in his laughter before it came bubbling from his chest in several loud, contagious eruptions.

“A little…” his lips curled into that familiar, boyish grin, “wanna see?”

Asking proved pointless as he sat up before you could conjure up an intelligible response and took hold of the bottom of his hoodie. In one soft motion, he pulled it over his head and tossed it aside without a care. You couldn’t help but gawk like a fool at the sight you were left with.

“W–wow.” You coughed out, blinking rapidly as you absorbed the expanse of the tanned, toned body on top of you. ‘A little’ had been an understatement. The last time you saw him shirtless, you can’t quite seem to recall there being such a defined six pack… or such impressive biceps… fuck.

“Wanna feel?”

His large hand was already wrapped around your wrist before the question escaped his lips, though this time he actually waited for your verbal approval before proceeding. Was it really the best idea to be feeling up your shirtless best friend after he’d just propositioned you? Probably not. Were you going to do it anyway? Abso-fucking-lutely.

Allowing him to guide your palm to his impressive pectorals, you almost moaned at the feeling of the hard, warm skin beneath your greedy fingertips. “Not bad, huh?” He asked, smug smirk twirling at the corners of his lips.

“In a word.” You offered mildly, far too absorbed in tracing the defined ridges of his abs to come up with one of your usual smart ass responses. The faintest of gasps fluttered from his lips as you caressed over a particularly sensitive area, and you didn’t miss the goosebumps that rose across his sun kissed skin— nor the pressure of something hard suddenly nudging up against your hip.

Swallowing thickly, you tipped your head up, making the deadly mistake of meeting his eyes. They were dark, darker than you’d ever seen them, and hooded, pretty eyelashes fluttering across his flushed cheeks with every lazy blink. Something dangerous yet tempting swirled within them, and you found yourself too overwhelmed to hold his intense gaze for much longer, quickly diverting your attention elsewhere.

But, just your luck, your eyes happened to land directly on the second most dangerous feature on his face— his lips. They were a dark, lovely shade of pink and deliciously swollen from the relentless assault of his teeth. The unexpected urge to tip you chin up and kiss him crashed over you with all the strength of a tsunami, heat flooding down between your thighs. Instinctively, you tried to close them, but the shape of his body prevented you from doing such. Unfortunately for your sanity, the pressure of your legs squeezing around his hips gave Chanyeol a different idea all together, a whole new way of absolutely wrecking you.

You almost— scratch that, you quite literally choked on air when he suddenly rolled his hips down, grinding against you. It was more experimental than anything else, testing the waters, seeing just how far you’d let him go. When you showed no signs of pushing him away and telling him to go fuck himself, he did it again, and this time, you really did moan out loud. Chanyeol shuddered at the sound, positively delighted that he’d been the one to pull such a delicate, sexy noise from you.

Encouraged and invigorated with newfound determination, he set a steady, confident rhythm with his hips, rolling them into yours in hard, deliberate, fluid motions.

“Let me make you feel good, y/n.”

A shiver wracked your body, and you found yourself utterly helpless against the deep rasping bass of (what you liked to identify as) his sex voice. It was at least an octave deeper than his regular voice, with a deliberate yet natural hoarseness that shot straight to your core. And no being on earth was immune to it, including you.

“Okay. Fuck, okay,” you caved, breathing heavy and uneven just from that juvenile dry humping alone, “but this is seriously the last time, Chanyeol. We can’t keep doing shit like t–this.”

A triumphant grin twisted onto his rose petal lips, “that’s alright. Just this once is all I need.”

Contrarily, you feared this little indiscretion would make you crave him all the more.

You sighed softly as his head fell into the juncture of your neck, painting hot, open mouthed kisses across the vulnerable skin. “No marks.” You huffed lightly when he resorted to sucking and nipping, and you could feel the pout that downturned the corners of his lips, but he made no objections nonetheless. A trembling breath flooded out of your chest as he descended your body, pushing up the loose fabric of your t-shirt to press searing kisses across your belly, all the way down to the elastic of your leggings. He glanced up at you, and somehow the angle made him look more attractive than he already was.

“Don’t be nervous.”

You shot him a lopsided grin, “who’s nervous?”

He didn’t look convinced, thumbs rubbing soothing circles into the skin of your hips. “If you don’t want to do this, that’s completely alright, just tell me and I’ll—”

“Don’t stop.” Chanyeol’s eyes widened at the sudden interruption, staring up at you with all the excitement and hope of a puppy getting a treat dangled in front of his nose. Sinking your teeth into your lower lip, you allowed your thighs to relax, falling open before him. “Please… don’t stop.”

He literally whined, though it quickly pitched into a rough, heavy groan somewhere deep in his chest. Long fingers slipped beneath the tight elastic of your leggings, making quick work of tugging them down the length of your legs. The air was cold against your bare skin, prickling goosebumps shooting up across your freshly shaved and lotion lathed legs (you silently thanked yourself for making yesterday one of your monthly self care days). The chill of the air was warded away by the warm press of his hands against the flesh of your thighs, grip tight enough to bruise.

“Fuck.” You hissed as he feathered his mouth over your clothed pussy, the heat of his breath rippling through your core in tiny shockwaves. Something dangerous glinted in his hooded eyes, and you let out a shaky moan when he flicked his tongue experimentally. The thin grey cotton darkened with a mixture of his saliva and your arousal, and he moaned quietly when your faint flavor hit his taste buds.

“Baby,” he purred softly, rolling his thumb over your clit and prodding the tip of his tongue where he estimated your entrance was. Your head tipped back against the cushion, mouth opening in a silent gasp. One of your hands reached down to weave through his thick black locks, while the other grabbed hold of the armrest behind your head. “Can I take them off?”

“Yes.” You breathed, removing your hand from his hair to brace it against the couch as you lifted your hips, allowing him to pull the black cotton down your legs. He tossed them aside haphazardly, a low groan rumbling in his throat at the sight of your bare core, wet and exposed in front of him. The first time you’d done this, it had been too dark and he’d been too drunk to really appreciate you. So, he’d take his time now. Really take his time.

“You’re so pretty.”

Warmth blossomed beneath your cheeks and you scoffed softly, trying your best to act like the compliment hadn’t made your heart flutter. He dragged his index slowly through your arousal, mouth falling open with a breath of amazement as he admired the glistening wetness that coated it. Chills rolled down your spine, an almost embarrassingly desperate whine resonating in your throat.

“Chan.” The urgency in your voice made him smile, and he looked up at you with eyes sparkling with mischief. You could only watch helplessly as he dragged his finger away from you, and slipped it between his lips, humming in delight.

Fuck. He was definitely trying to kill you.

Luckily for you, that one little taste proved to not be anywhere near enough for his insatiable appetite and, without warning, he pressed his face in close and began lapping eagerly at your pussy. Your mouth gaped, hips bucking up uncontrollably as his nose ground into your clit, his hot tongue licking hungrily at your entrance. Pleasure ignited in your veins like a wildfire, explosive and untamable and all consuming. It stretched through every part of your body, setting your skin ablaze in the wake of his touch.

“Oh my god, Chan—” he groaned against you in response, hooded eyes fluttering blissfully as he lost himself in the taste of your cunt. He was eating you out like his life depended on it, fierce and unrelenting, the sound of it wet and messy. You were moaning his name, thigh tightening spastically around his head, but his strong, calloused hands kept them apart, forcing them open so he could have his way. You almost lost it completely when he wrapped his lips around your clit and started sucking.

Strangely enough, you found that without the intoxication of alcohol in your system, everything he did had that much of a more intense effect on you. It was like every touch, every sensation was amplified by your mere sobriety; the heat of his mouth, the softness of his lips, the eagerness of his tongue, the pressure of his fingers. You felt all of it, every one of your senses going into overdrive.

And god it was so much. And yet, you still wanted more.

“Y– your fingers, Chan, your fingers, please—” you panted, brows knitting as you felt that familiar tightening in your gut. He quickly obeyed, sinking his long middle finger inside of you with such ease you almost felt embarrassed. But there was no room for such emotions when you were so enthralled in the hot rush of pleasure bursting like the most brilliant of firecrackers in your veins.

A second finger was swift to join the first, stretching you out so deliciously that your toes curled. With his free hand, he tugged at your knee, bringing it up to rest over his shoulder. The new angle forced your hips off of the plush cushion below, his skilled fingers burying themselves deeper, pillowy lips sucking harder. It was over the second his digits curled, stroking up against that perfect little spot that had white hot electricity crackling in your blood.

Your orgasm hit you hard and fast. It was hot and overwhelming, the persistent, eager pressure of his mouth and hands drawing it out as long as it could possibly go. He dragged it out until you were limp and trembling beneath him, moaning and whining out broken fragments of his name, too lost in the bliss inducing thralls of your high to feel even the slightest hint of shame.

His ministrations seemed to grow even fiercer through your orgasm, his ravenous moans increasing in volume right alongside yours. He only pulled away when he knew you wouldn’t be able to withstand anymore, resorting to pressing soothing kisses and murmuring breathless praises against the soft, trembling skin of your thighs.

“Fuck you, Chanyeol.” You laughed breathlessly, tossing an arm over your eyes.

“Fuck me? Fuck you, I almost busted in my pants when you came. That was so fucking hot.” He groaned, sinking his teeth into his bottom lip as he crawled back on top of you, caging your head between his arms. You chuckled, warmth spreading through your cheeks. A sweet smile upturned the corners of his mouth. “Did it help?”

The question was less than a breath against your lips, so soft you had to strain your ears to hear it. You swallowed, gaze momentarily dropping to his mouth before returning to his eyes, only to find that they’d honed in on your lips.

“It helped. You helped.”

He inhaled shakily, tongue slipping out to trace the seam of his bottom lip. “Can I help a little more?” He asked, and you felt his bangs feather over your forehead as his head lowered. Hot breath rushed over your mouth. Instead of answering, you reached up and cupped his face, pulling him into a kiss. It was short, shy, sweet. Such a stark contrast to the fierce hunger he’d displayed going down on you not two minutes ago that you couldn’t help the giggles of amusement that came bubbling from your chest. He broke away from you with a bashful smile, gently resting his forehead against yours.

“You suck.” He mumbled, pouting childishly.

“I’m pretty sure you’re the only one that’s done any sucking.” You teased.

“Who am I to argue with the facts?” He sighed dramatically, feigning defeat.

You laughed loudly, an obnoxious cackle that had to be one of the most unattractive sounds you’d ever made, but it was abruptly cut off when he reattached his mouth to yours. You hummed contently, carding your fingers through the short hairs on the back of his neck. The taste of you lingered on his tongue, and he painted the inside of your mouth with it. Warmth spread through your chest, your heart picking up speed as you melted into his kiss, melted into the warmth that the presence of his body provided you with.

“I lied.”

Your eyes blinked open, surprised by the sudden admission. “Huh?”

The look on his face stirred to life a strange, but vaguely familiar emotion in the depth of your chest. A crimson blush darkened his cheeks and his gaze shied away from yours. For a moment, you were reminded of the little, goofy looking boy that shyly handed you a heart shaped box of caramel chocolates on Valentine’s Day all the way back when you were thirteen. He had the same big sweet eyes, the same crimson cheeks, the same large pink tipped ears.

“I said that just this once is enough...” he swallowed, adam’s apple bobbing as he nibbled nervously on the corner of his lip, “but it isn’t. It isn’t enough.”

“What do you mean?”

He cupped the side of your face, thumb tracing the line of your lip. “I want you. I- I want to be more to you— to be more to you than just a friend.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, offering him a sly smirk. “Are you… confessing to me, Park Chanyeol?”

“Depends.”

“On what?”

He smiled down at you bashfully. “If you say yes.”

“Hmm…” you squinted your eyes and pursed your lips as if you needed to think it over. But you had a feeling that a moment like this was long past due, so you resisted the urge to draw it out and torture him, opting to give him a more straight forward answer to put his racing heart at ease. “Yes.”

“Thank god.” He groaned happily, smooshing your face between his massive palms and tugging you into a deep, but playful kiss that made your skin tingle. You giggled noisily against his lips, draping your arms over his neck to keep him close. “Does this mean I get to eat you out like that whenever I want?”

“Oh, without a doubt,” you snickered as he pumped his fist, hissing out an eager ‘yes’. You grabbed his chin between your thumb and forefinger, drawing his attention back to you. “And next time...” you tipped your head up to nip at the sensitive lobe of his ear, letting a downright wicked grin curl across your lips, “I’ll gladly return to favor.”

[samanthadalton]

Gift and a curse part 2

pairings: Bianca x f! mc (Charlie) 

sorry it took so long with part 2, i have like 5 different fics to write and i felt myself burning out a bit bc of school, idk how many parts this fic will have maybe 4/5 

slightly NSFW (im not good at smut writing at all so i apologise in advance if its weird or awkward (or both))

taglist: @cloud9in @robintora @penda-bear @alleycat97 @kawaiibanditmoneytaco @crazzyplays @itszdavenport @annamaries-things @gamechoices-player @oxjenayxo @suoirallesalta @boopbapbeepbop @queensayeed @fantasy-of-fiction @baronyvampire @vampiregod325 @waterinathermostat @sanguetripasebolodechocolate @thepotatobleh (not everyone was showing up in the tags im sorry) 

wordcount: 1.9k

Charlie makes her way to the house, each step filled with dread as she ambles to the front yard. She gingerly opens the front door, quietly closing it behind her, part of her hoping that Adam is already sleeping so she can slip into bed and have the talk with him once she’s off her high from her date with Bianca. Before she can open her bedroom door, the door swings open revealing a concerned Adam as he assesses his fiancee with a worrisome expression. 

“Hey, it’s late where have you been?” He moves forward to place a kiss on Charlie’s lips but in the last second, Charlie turns her head and the bad boy’s lips graze her cheek. “Hey, is everything alright?” his voice laced with concern. Charlie awkwardly steps past Adam entering the room, a solemn look on her face. 

“Not really no,” she mumbles. 

“What happened? Did Vince do something?” Charlie shakes her head. 

“No, no. Nothing like that. But we need to talk Adam.” Confusion washes all over Adam’s face as he attempts to comprehend Charlie’s words, his mouth hanging open struggling to find the words. Charlie sniffles, wiping away the tears in her eyes before they can fall and takes a seat at the edge of the bed, patting the space next to her, for Adam to follow suit. When Adam sits, Charlie sharply inhales, her lips slightly trembling before casting a glance to see Adam’s brows furrowed as he stares off into the distance. 

“I thought we put the whole elopement thing behind us,” he quietly speaks out, his voice low and gruff. He shifts his body slightly to the left, as his gaze flits to Charlie, 

“It’s not about that,” Charlie dismally responds, her eyes trained to the floor unable to meet Adam’s penetrating gaze. 

“Then what is it about, because ever since Vegas something has been off.” 

“Adam….I can’t marry you.” The spike of Charlie’s admission is met with silence as Adam looks away from Charlie, a mixture of indignation and befuddlement in his facial expression. The silence only grows, the atmosphere dense with awkwardness until Charlie reaches out, wrapping her hand around Adam’s to alleviate the tension. “Adam..please say something.” 

Adam lets out a hollow laugh, the pain noticeably instilled in his chuckle as he pulls his hand out of Charlie’s grasp, running it over his face. “What do you want me to say? I don’t get why this is happening. Look I’m not mad about Vegas, I want to marry you even if we have to do it on tv okay I’m onboard with it all.” 

“Adam- no. This is going to sound so shitty of me but it’s not you, it’s me. There’s someone else.” Adam freezes, his jaw clenched as he grasps at Charlie’s words. 

“Who?” he squeaks out.  

Charlie dissolves into tears, her words blubbered out in an incoherent mess. “I’m sorry, i’m so sorry Adam.” 

Adam jumps up from his seat, his voice vehemently echoing through the room, “who?!” 

“Bianca!” Charlie weeps, her sobs becoming more and more uncontrollable by the minute. 

“Bianca?” Adam’s voice dwindles back down to his usual articulation, his tone dripping with confusion. “Charlie what are you talking about?” 

The AME contestant inhales deeply, before letting out a shaky breath, trying to get a grip on her breaths. “A couple of days ago Bianca confessed that she had feelings for me.” Charlie steals a glance at her fiance to see a solemn look on his face. “And….I feel the same way about her.” Adam looks at Charlie with disbelief as a pang of guilt hits the brunette and she slightly winces at Adam’s unwavering gaze. Adam shakes his head with incredulity, struggling to come to terms with Charlie’s admission. “I didn’t mean for this to happen but it happened so suddenly an-” 

“Exactly!” Adam says, cutting Charlie off, “this is happening too quickly. I mean last night you were fine with marrying me and now you’re saying you don’t want to. Charlie you’re just confused.” 

“I’m not confused!” 

“It’s just wedding jitters.” 

The two continue talking over each other, their voices overlapping unable to hear what the other is saying. It isn’t until Charlie yells out Adam clamps his mouth shut, “Adam stop! Please listen to me.” The two stare at each other with great intensity until Adam breaks the eye contact, nodding softly. 

“Okay, explain it to me.” 

And so she does, Charlie comes clean about it all, starting from her past feelings about Bianca to Bianca’s confession to her date with the model tonight which ended in a kiss until they were busted by Mackenzie. Adam listens intently, a blank expression on his face throughout the duration of Charlie’s revelation. 

“I understand,” Adam finally says, a sadness glimmering in his eyes as he glances over at Charlie. 

“You- you do?” 

The bad boy nods dejectedly, “I can’t lie, it hurts but I don’t want to marry someone who isn’t one hundred percent sure about marrying me.” 

Charlie gulps uneasily, responding with a curt nod, “Adam, I am sorry you know.” 

In retort, Adam gives Charlie a sad smile that doesn’t meet his eyes, “I know. Umm I should sleep on the couch I guess,” he rubs his hand against his neck sheepishly. 

“No I can, you should take the bed.” 

“Nah it’s fine,” Adam grabs a pillow and a duvet and just before he leaves the room he turns back to Charlie, “glad you’re listening to your heart, if anyone deserves to be happy it’s you Charlie.” 

Charlie musters a small smile in appreciation, a mournful look in her eyes as she watches Adam leave the room, but she can’t help but feel the butterflies in her stomach as her mind drifts over to Bianca and the kiss she shared with the model tonight. Her fingertips ghost over the outline of her lips as she feels a trace of warmth creeping up on her cheeks as she excitedly speculates about what tomorrow will bring for her and Bianca. 

…..

The next morning Charlie wakes up to an empty house, her mind drifting to Adam’s whereabouts, feeling a pang of guilt as she recollects last night's events. But she brushes off any negative feelings as her thoughts drift to Bianca, eager to declare her feelings. 

Charlie makes her way to the mansion and when she spots Bianca she wordlessly hooks her arm around the model’s steering her into one of the empty bedrooms. Bianca raises a questioning eyebrow at the contestant and before she can get a word in, Charlie pulls her in for a passionate kiss, which Bianca eagerly reciprocates. When they pull away Bianca stares at Charlie, her eyes glimmering with hopefulness and even though she knows the answer, she still knows she has to ask “Babe, not that I’m not happy for some PDA but what about Adam?” 

Charlie grins at Bianca before pulling her in for another kiss, she wraps her arms around the taller girl’s neck while Bianca’s arms snake around Charlie’s waist, diminishing the gap between them. “I told him about us,” Charlie whispers against Bianca’s lips. In response, Bianca stares at the girl with such a great intensity, desire penetrating the atmosphere as she leads Charlie towards the bed. 

Charlie’s knees buckle as they hit the edge of the bed forcing her to fall back onto the bed and Bianca uses the opportunity to straddle the contestant’s hips, a devilish smile on her lips. Charlie gazes up at the model in awe, taking in her features. She glances at the model’s sharp jawline, her intense smouldering hazel eyes, her cute button nose, those beautiful red plush lips. 

Bianca leans down, her lips ghosting around Charlie’s as she whispers, “what did you tell him.” 

“I told him…” Charlie cranes her neck slightly nipping at Bianca’s lips, “that I want to be with you.” 

“Mmmm,” Bianca grinds down on Charlie’s hips, earning a low groan from Charlie who places her hands on Bianca’s hips, squeezing down on them to create more friction between their bodies. Just as Charlie is going to flip over Bianca, the model places her hand on the girl’s chest pushing her down on the bed, a serious look on her face. 

“Hey, is everything okay?” 

“Yeah, I just can’t help but feel a little bad for Adam,” Bianca slides off Charlie and sits down on the edge of the bed, a few seconds later Charlie sits up, lacing her fingers with Bianca’s. 

“I know, it’s been on the back of my mind too,” Charlie sighs tiredly, her fingers subconsciously rubbing circles on Bianca’s knuckles. 

“How exactly did he react?” Bianca asks, her voice laced with apprehension. 

Charlie blows hot air from her lips, huffing, “better than I thought he would. At first he was hurt, but then he was understanding. I could tell he was hurt but he wanted nothing but the best for me.” 

“I guess the bad boy is softer than we thought,” Bianca jests, alleviating some of the discomfort within the room. Charlie smiles sadly before shaking herself out of her thoughts. 

“I don’t want to be thinking about Adam right now,” she inhales sharply as her eyes roam Bianca’s presence, feeling a pool of desire wash all over her as she presses her lips against Bianca, satiating the hunger she feels. 

“I can’t believe you’re all mine” The model runs a finger down the contestant’s body a amourous look twinkling in her eyes. 

“Say that again,” Charlie whispers Bianca’s lips. 

“You’re mine,” Bianca slowly and sensually enunciates. “God you’re so beautiful,” Bianca whispers as she places her hand around Charlie’s neck squeezing softly, “I can’t wait to break you.” She leans in to kiss Charlie, their tongues tangling together in a passionate embrace as Bianca’s tongue languidly moves against Charlie’s, eliciting moans from the contestant. Bianca’s hand travels underneath Charlie’s clothes, her fingers stroking the smoothness of Charlie’s chest before travelling down, her fingers dipping below the waistband of her panties, teasingly tracing around her inner thigh. 

“Please,” Charlie quietly pleads, her breaths becoming short and heavy just from a few touches from the model, turned on by the view in front of her, Bianca begins kissing Charlie’s neck, her fingers still teasing on the outside of the contestant’s panties, her fingers ghosting over where Charlie wants her most. 

“God,” Bianca sighs against the crook of Charlie’s neck, “you have no idea how bad I’ve wanted this.” 

“Show me then,” Charlie challenges. A fire burns in Bianca’s gaze, matching the intensity in Charlie’s as the realisation dawns that her fantasies can now be made into a reality. The girls are locked in a kiss, the atmosphere dense with desire and sexual tension as they move back to the middle of the bed, Bianca taking the reins, straddling Charlie as she wraps a hand around Charlie’s neck squeezing softly as she pushes her down onto the pillow. Just as Bianca’s hands make their way to the hem of Charlie’s clothes, the bedroom door swings open and a gasp breaks them out of the moment as they swivel their heads to the doorway. 

“Omar, we can explain.” 

Fury burns in Omar’s eyes as he looks over at the girls, “Clean yourselves up and then get to the production room now.” 

[hazymultiverse]

Not sure if this is allowed but, ★★Reader being railed by Purple Haze because Fugo is sexually repressed, but reader doesn't know Fugos feelings OwO

Oh its allowed.

And encouraged. Send me all your stand fucking asks, I’m literally asking you nicely please send stand thirst thank you.

Warnings for: NSFW, rough sex, slight dub con??? Bc reader doesn’t know if Fugo wants it (but he does.)

—

“I think Fugo hates me.”

Mista shifted the phone from ear to ear, and you could hear the rub of the speaker against his hat, “Why would you say that?”

“Come on man, you heard what happened with Purple Haze.” You wince slightly, recalling the earlier events.

The stand had charged towards you as soon as he was summoned, paying no heed to Fugos panicked demands to stop. He had been wrestled before any true damage was done, but you’d been knocked to the ground, driving the wind out of you, and the mission had nearly been compromised. Fugo had been mortified, refusing to talk to you afterwards, the entire drive to the safe house was kept in suffocating silence.

Even after arriving, he insisted on you staying back while he went to pick up food, which gave you ample time to call Mista.

“Stands are just manifestations of the soul, right? So if Haze keeps attacking me, that means Fugo has some subconscious hatred going on.”

Mista bit his lip, he knew Fugo didn’t hate you. Quite the opposite in fact, the guy was in love with you, but apparently all the book smarts in the world couldn’t teach you how to man up and talk to your crush.

“Well, it doesn’t always work like that.” The gunslinger offered instead, “I mean, look at the pistols! They don’t always act like me. A lot of stands have their own sentience and independence, maybe it’s just that they’re a bit disconnected.” Mista was grasping at straws at this point, partially trying to dance around spilling his friends deepest secrets, and partially from trying to put rhyme or reason to stand logic. (An oxymoron if he ever heard one)

“So, maybe it’s just Purple Haze that hates me?” You theorized.

“I wouldn’t say he hates you, I don’t think you’d be alive if he really hated you. I just don’t think he knows what’s what. Fugo doesn’t exactly let him out much.”

“So, he’s just not used to me, maybe?” You frowned, then shot your attention to the door as you heard the rattle of keys, “oh, Fugo’s back, gotta go.”

“Alright, take care- and uh, don’t worry about Panna’ hating you. Trust me, if he did? You’d know.”

—

Fugo had excused himself to one of the bedrooms as soon as he was done eating, and with not much else to do, you did the same, taking the room next door.

It was quiet, you had heard some pages turning through the thin wall, but they’d stopped, so you assumed he’d finally gone to sleep.

What was the problem? You’d never seen Fugo -or his stand- act like this around anyone else, but whenever you were around it was like he couldn’t get any control over Purple Haze. Had you done something wrong?

Shutting your eyes, you sighed, worrying about it all night would solve nothing, better to just go to sleep, and see about talking to him about it in the morning-

The air felt different.

Loud, rasping breaths hit your ear, warm air hitting your face.

Slowly, you opened your eyes, freezing in place as you saw Purple Haze standing over your bed.

You stayed, eyes locked, for what felt like ages. No sound in the house but his breathing, and the pounding of your heart.

“H-hey bud.” You finally croaked, “What’s wrong?”

A firm hand grabbed your shoulder, pushing you farther down into the bed, on instinct you went to push it away, but the thought of the capsules made you pause, gently placing your hand on his wrist instead. At the contact, the stand let out a low whine.

“Are you okay? Is something the matter?” You asked quietly, perplexed by the whole situation at this point.

With a growl, Haze leaned in closer to you, carefully nuzzling against your face and neck, steadily crawling onto your bed.

“Oh- alright- uh, not quite sure what this is, but uh, did you come here to spend time with me?”

The stand was fully on top of you now, hands wandering and rubbing at any part of you it could reach, pressing a hand firmly on your chest to hold you down when you began to squirm.

“I’m gonna be honest here, I have no idea what’s going on and- oh.”

Haze slid a hand under your hips, angling them up just enough to align with his pelvis, where in the dark of the room, there was definitely something rubbing against you.

Your mind raced, did stands have dicks? Or genitals at all? What the hell was happening? Is this why Haze kept jumping at you? Thank fuck that this hadn’t happened during the mission, if Fugo had seen, you’re sure he would have died of embarrassment.

“Hey, Fugo, are you awake?” You said, not quite a normal volume, knowing the walls were thin, but got no response, “So you just came out on your own?” You whispered to Haze, who simply gurgled and continued to rub against you.

Taking a deep breath, you attempted to assess the situation.

There was a highly dangerous stand with violent tendencies dry humping you like a horny teenager in your bed. The user of said stand, who would usually keep it from even reaching you, was asleep.

Your body had gotten undeniably warm from the rubbing and grabbing the stand had been doing, making your mind wander. You couldn’t quite see in the dark, but whatever was grinding against you was big, and tempting.

Your deliberation was taking too long however, and with a loud growl, you felt strong hands begin to tear your clothes off of you, unheeded by your pushing against his chest, and your lower half was quickly laid bare, cool fingers grabbing and poking at you.

When you felt a blunt tip of something that definitely wasn’t a finger poking at your slit, you quickly lunged forward, “No no! Wait!”

That caught his attention, and in what little light there was, you saw Hazes pleading, confused expression, accompanied by a garbled whimper.

“You have to be careful about this, just, if this is gonna happen, you can’t go in dry.” You felt crazy, when had you agreed to this? But something about the situation just drew you in, “Help me get my fingers wet?”

Drool and spit dripped down onto your fingers, oddly warm from the stands mouth.

“Thanks.” reaching down, you rubbed your spit covered fingers against your entrance, slowly sliding in a finger, then two.

Haze grumbled, clearly impatient, garbling and poking your hand.

Drawing your fingers back out, you sat back a bit farther, propped up on your elbows, a low anxiety building in your gut, you were excited to do this, and couldn’t deny the fact the stand had always intrigued you, but there was no way you could overpower it if things got out of hand, you’d never been able to, it was always Fugo.

Fugo.

“H-hold on, is your user really okay with this? I know you’re basically him, I don’t wanna do anything without his- oh god!”

Your time had run out, and Purple Haze thrusted inside of you, giving you no time to adjust before beginning a brutal pace.

You bit your hand, struggling to not cry out, Fugo was sleeping on the other side of the wall, and if he woke up and walked in on this? He’d never speak to you again.

On the other side of things however, you hadn’t been quite thorough enough in stretching yourself, unprepared for the stands sheer size. Thankfully, he seemed to have learned quickly, having slicked up his cock similar to your fingers beforehand.

The bed creaked loudly, and the loud wet noises of your pussy accompanied by the slap of his hips was near deafening in the still house. Blunt fingertips digging into your thighs as he rammed into you, drawing choked gasps from your lips.

The stretch quickly dulled into pleasure, your voice straining against your hand as pressure began to build deep in your core.

“Fuck!” You yelped out, clutching onto his shoulders, scrabbling for anything solid as you were sent hurtling towards your climax, “fuck, fuck fuck fuck- yessss~”

Haze seemed unaffected, continuing to snarl and pound into you at the same frantic pace as before, still holding you down and gripping your hip tight enough to bruise. Any thought of staying quiet had vanished quickly, though subconsciously, you prayed Fugo wouldn’t wake up to stop this.

Your orgasm wracked through your body with unmatched intensity,a low moan tearing from deep in your chest. No matter how tightly your walls clenched around him, he didn’t let up, nothing seemed to get through to him as you wailed and spasmed in his grip. Your hands pushing wildly at his chest, struggling to get enough breath to beg him to slow down just a bit as your oversensitive walls burned hot from the merciless treatment.

“Please- wait- fuck I can’t!” You yelped, and he let you go, pulling out and sitting back on his haunches. You whimpered at the relief, rolling over to bury your face in the cooler part of the sheets, “Thank you, good boy, so good, thank you.”

Familiar cool hands pulled your hips up once more, and with a groan you gripped weakly at the sheets, “again?”

The spit ladened howl said enough as he entered you again with a slick thrust.

“Alright, fine, but just take it easy. Ah!”

He did not.

Rutting into you like his life depended on it, Purple Haze hunched over you, voice far more pronounced, snarling and growling like a rabid animal.

Mind still numb from the previous orgasm, you gripped your pillow desperately, letting your mouth run.

“There we go big boy, you like that? Yeah? Oh come on, I know you want it so bad- you’ve just been trying to do this for weeks? Is that all?” You let out a disbelieving laugh, “Nearly got us killed earlier just to try and get your rocks offfffffffuck! Oh there we go baby there we go, right there.”

The praise seemed to strike a chord, one of the stands strong arms wrapping around your torso and pulling you close, wet slaps of his thighs against yours drowned out by the breath in your ear, panic inducing earlier, but comforting now, grounding you in a rhythm.

“You’ve got a lot to work out huh?” A growl in response, “Yeah, thought so. We’re just gonna be here a while then.”

—

Fugo sat, heart racing, ear pressed against the wall, listening to your sweet moans, cock in hand. Someday, he vowed, he would finally talk to you, and be on the right side of things.

But if this were the first step? Feeling the phantom warmth of your pussy around his dick, begging and praising his stand so sweetly, welcoming it with open arms and pulling it closer?

He could live with that.

[thompsborn]

fic where harley is a doctor that works w helen cho that sees peter often because of how much he gets hurt from being spider-man? and they fall in love bc they r already smitten for each other bc why wouldn't they be

i didn’t know how much i needed an au like this until you sent it omg

[read on ao3]

—

He’s in the middle of taking a sip of coffee when the alarm goes off.

“Mister Keener,” Friday says, as he’s cursing over the hot coffee that’s soaking into the front of his shirt. Thankfully, it’s not hot enough to actually burn him, but that doesn’t make it any less unpleasant. “Your assistance is needed in the Medical Wing.”

Harley frowns. “What time is it?”

“Four fifty eight in the morning, Mister Keener.”

“Jesus, really?” Harley sets his mug down and turns his arm over to look at his watch. His brows shoot up towards his hairline, surprised. “Wow. Okay. Didn’t realize it was... Jesus. Alright.”

Friday sounds almost amused when she tells him, “Doctor Cho is insisting you hurry.”

Harley sighs. “Yeah, okay. On my way.”

At this time of the night, the only medical staff on hand are the ones who live close by—like Helen, who has an apartment less than a two minute walk away—and those who live on site, like Harley, who’s had his own floor in the tower since he was fifteen and told Tony over a phone call that he was thinking about coming to New York once he was done with high school. Because of this, Harley isn’t all that surprised to find that it’s only him and Helen that show up in the MedBay—if anything, it’s what he expected.

And he should have expected who, exactly, they’re treating in the middle of the night, but he still finds himself mildly surprised when he comes face to face with Peter’s sheepish grin.

“Of course it’s you,” Harley says, standing at the foot of the hospital bed with his arms crossed over his chest. “Who else would be waking me up like this?”

“Don’t lie to me,” Peter says, sheepish grin turning a bit snarky. “You weren’t asleep.”

Harley purses his lips. “I could’ve been.”

Peter rolls his eyes, but doesn’t get the chance to respond before Helen is hovering by his side, snapping her gloves into place and instructing, “Friday, give me the run down.“

“Mister Parker has several second degree burns along his left leg and left arm,” Friday responds. “His right wrist is broken, and there appears to be a laceration along his abdomen.”

Harley winces in sympathy. “Rough night?”

Peter tries to shrug, but the movement makes his features twist up in a flash of pain. His voice comes out a bit strained when he says, “You could say that. There was—house fire. Not fun.”

“Get everyone out?” Harley asks, if only to provide a slight distraction as Helen assesses the broken wrist, likely checking to see if it needs to be reset or if it’ll be able to heal properly as it is. Peter tries for a grin.

“All of ‘em. Even the kids pet turtle.”

Harley pats Peter’s right knee, careful to remember that it’s his left leg with the burns. “Job well done, Spider-Man.”

“Harley,” Helen says, grabbing his attention. She’s apparently deemed Peter’s wrist not a main concern and is already peeling Peter’s suit off of him. Harley snaps into focus instantly, listening intently as Helen tells him, “I need you to take care of the laceration while I get started on the burns. When that’s done, we need to get that wrist in a cast until it heals.”

Peter pouts. “A cast? Really?”

Helen looks at him sharply. “Last time we didn’t put you in a cast, you managed to re-break your arm before it could heal. Twice.”

Peter’s pout vanishes with a meek chuckle. “It was an accident?” he offers.

“You, Peter Parker,” Helen says, averting her attention back to his burns as she speaks, “are somehow my best and my worst patient of all time. And I’m Tony Stark’s doctor, too, so that says a whole lot about you.”

“Hey—” Peter cuts off with a hiss as Harley starts to disinfect the large cut on his side. Harley offers an apologetic half smile that Peter waves away with another wince and a wobbly sort of grin. “I’m not worse than Mr. Stark.”

Helen hums, high pitched and teasing.

“I’m not,” Peter insists. “I’m not!”

“Believe what you want,” Helen tells him.

Peter huffs. “Why are you being mean to me? Aren’t doctors supposed to be nice to their patients? Isn’t that, like, a thing?”

Harley snorts when Helen says, “Next time, don’t wake me up at four in the morning with second degree burns and a broken wrist, and maybe then I’ll be nicer to you, hm?”

—

The thing is, Harley didn’t plan on this.

As in, growing up, he was sure that what he wanted was to be a mechanic. He loved to build, take apart, recreate, understand. It’s all he ever did. Hell, when Tony Frickin’ Stark broke into his garage, the guy ended up making Harley his own mechanic heaven to say thanks for helping him out.

And Harley still loves all of that, to be fair—he spends a lot of his free time tinkering in Tony’s lab now, helping him out with whatever the man’s working on and often working on his own fun little projects on the side—but it’s not his main drive. It’s not the center of his world.

He thinks it started when he saved Tony.

In a way, anyway—he had only been twelve at the time, and it’s not like twelve year olds are exactly apt on having life changing realizations that change the course of their future. Still, he was a twelve year old that saved Tony Stark’s life, and there was some kind of thrill, almost. It was hard to explain then, and Harley isn’t sure if he could put it into words now, but the feeling had made his fingers feel all tingly and his heart thud heavily in his chest. It was similar to when he built his first successful bot and it came whirring to life, only the feeling was intensified.

He felt like he was doing what he was supposed to be doing. He knew he wanted to save lives.

“You’re getting better,” Helen tells him, after Harley’s helped the medical team with bandaging up the members of the Avengers that just returned from a mission. None of the wounds had been major, mostly just scrapes and bruises, but it’s the most amount of people Harley has helped treat at once, which is a big step.

Harley shrugs, drying off his hands, having just finished washing them. “You’re a good teacher.”

Helen chuckles at that. “How are your classes?”

“Good,” Harley answers, nodding his head. “Kinda boring. I know most of it already, thanks to all the training you’ve given me, but that‘s not really new. I knew everything they taught me in high school, too.”

“You sound like Peter when you say that,” Helen muses, an amused quirk to her brow.

Harley rolls his eyes. “Y’know, people keep saying that, but I only see him when he’s bleeding out and that doesn’t make it feel like we’re all that similar.”

“Oh, you’re similar, alright,” Helen says, laughing a bit. “You’re both genius kids who bust your asses off to save people’s lives.”

Wrinkling his nose, Harley says, “But I don’t do it in spandex. Key difference there, doc.”

Helen holds her hands up in some kind of surrender. “Just saying, you two are alike.”

“I’ll make sure to tell him you said that next time he breaks his leg,” Harley quips.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Friday interjects, “but Spider-Man is reportedly injured and heading to the tower now. ETA of six and a half minutes.”

Harley rolls his eyes up to the ceiling with an exasperated sigh. Helen can only laugh.

—

“Ow. Ow, ow—oh, Jesus, that’s—ow—!”

“Sorry,” Harley says, only averting his eyes for a second to flash Peter an apologetic look before focusing back on the stitches he’s giving him.

Peter curses, slamming his left fist into his own thigh as Harley pushes the needle through. “This sucks,” he complains, clenching his jaw and grinding his teeth. “This is—why is this worse than getting stabbed? Why do I prefer getting stabbed over this? This blows.”

“You need to stop moving,” Harley tells him.

Making an indignant sort of noise, Peter asks, “How the hell am I—I can’t stop moving! This hurts, man, like—like, really fuckin’ hurts!”

“Moving makes it worse, dipshit,” Harley retorts, fighting the urge to roll his eyes.

“You know what else makes it worse?” Peter glares at the wall. “Not having pain killers.”

Harley does roll his eyes now. “Not my job. I just give you the drugs, I don’t make them.”

“I know, but Mr. Stark isn’t here for me to bitch at, so I’m complaining to you about it instead.”

Harley can’t help the way that he snorts at that, finishing off the last of the stitches as he does so. “I usually don’t like to listen to someone complain while I’m working.”

“Sucks to suck,” Peter replies. “Are you done?”

“Yep.” Harley leans back, taking off his gloves and tossing them into the trash. “Any other injuries? Stab wounds? Broken bones?”

Peter hums, tilting his head from side to side. “I don’t think so. Friday?”

“All clear, Mr. Parker.”

Harley frowns. “The fact that you had to ask worries me.”

Peter shrugs. “I get hurt a lot. Kinda used to it.”

“Still,” Harley says. “That’s concerning. Like, you still feel pain, right? You would know if you were hurt somewhere else, wouldn’t you?”

“Oh, trust me, I feel pain,” Peter snorts. “But some things just... don’t matter? Like... I dunno, but if it’s not serious, it’s like my brain filters it out on it’s own to focus on other things. Which, probably, y’know, not good, but, like, oh well.”

“Definitely not good,” Harley murmurs, frowning to himself as he squints around the room for a moment. “Well, if you have nothing else, then you’re good to go. And, honestly, thank god that’s all you have, ‘cause this is the first time I’ve done anything without Helen around and anything more than stitches would’ve had me flipping shit and fucking it all up.”

Peter lets out a light laugh, pulling his shirt down, over the gash that Harley just finished stitching.��“You wouldn’t fuck it up,” he says, sounding light and humorous yet entirely serious, too. “You’re, like, really good at your job, Harley.”

Harley scrunches his nose up on his face. “Ew. Don’t be nice to me. It’s gross.”

Peter laughs again, a little bit louder, though the way it makes his stomach jump has him wincing when it pulls at his stitches. “I’m serious!” he insists. “Like, I know you’re still a med student and stuff, but Helen is probably the best person to be training you, so you’re, like, more qualified than most normal doctors. You have the experience that most people still in med school don’t have. I mean, you patch up the freakin’ Avengers, Harley! You gotta be good at this to do that!”

“I help patch up the Avengers,” Harley corrects. “The only person I’ve ever fixed up by myself is you, thanks to your insane ability to always get hurt.”

“It’s a talent,” Peter shrugs. “And hey, I bet it keeps you entertained.”

Harley snorts. “Entertained is not the right word for it, Spidey. Impressed, maybe, by just how much trouble you’re capable of getting yourself into.”

Peter grins. “Gotta impress people somehow, right?”

—

Harley wouldn’t call it bonding.

Because it’s not. It’s not bonding. It’s small talk, and pleasant conversations, while Harley sets a broken bone or treats another burn. It’s filling the silence because, apparently, Helen trusts Harley to handle Peter on his own, unless it’s a major injury that requires more than one person on hand, and Harley isn’t sure why he’s being trusted with this, but he’s pretty intent on not fucking it up.

But it isn’t bonding. They’re just... acquaintances. Who talk. Like, a lot, because Peter comes in at least four times a week needing treatment for something, and that gives them a lot of time to talk. Maybe Harley learns a lot about Peter during this time, like his favorite song, and what his comfort hoodie is, and why he became Spider-Man in the first place. Maybe Peter learns where Harley is from, how he met Tony, and what made him decide to be a doctor over a mechanic.

Maybe, after a few weeks, they start having inside jokes, built not only from the time they spend alone together, but also from the months upon months that Harley was helping Helen treat Peter, too. Sometimes, Peter snorts so hard that he reopens his stitches and Harley has to fix it. Sometimes, Harley can’t stop laughing when he needs to have steady hands and he ends up hunching over on himself and wheezing because of whatever it is that Peter said. One day, Peter comes in when he isn’t injured, dressed in casual clothes with a few textbooks from his ESU courses in one hand and a coffee cup in the other. “I’m headed up to see Mr. Stark,” he tells Harley, “but I thought I’d give you this,” and he holds out the cup of coffee with a big, cheesy sort of grin.

“Why?” Harley asks, though he accepts the cup gratefully.

Peter shrugs. “I’d probably have bled out ten times over if it weren’t for you, and you looked, like, really tired yesterday, so I thought you might need it.”

He is tired—exhausted, really, because his classes may not be hard but there are some big tests coming up that he needs to study for and it’s hard to find the time to study in between training with Helen and doing all the millions of other assignments that are being tossed his way. He takes a sip of the coffee, hums in satisfaction at the way it warms him up, and says, “Thanks.”

“Least I could do,” Peter tells him.

So, maybe they’re friends. Maybe—maybe—Harley is starting to look forward to seeing him and keeps trying to think of a casual way to offer they hang out sometime, outside of the med bay. Maybe Peter starts bringing Harley a cup of coffee every time he goes to visit Tony, and maybe Harley starts to feel a little thrill whenever he hands the coffee over and their fingers briefly brush.

Maybe it is bonding, but it’s not a crush. It’s not.

(”You’re adorable when you’re in denial,” Helen tells him.

Harley sinks in his seat and tries to disappear. “Shut up.”)

—

The letters of his textbook are blurring in front of his eyes when the alarm rings.

He jumps at the sound, looks up at the ceiling with slightly squinted eyes and furrowed brows, expecting Friday to calmly inform him that his assistance is needed in the med bay, like usual. Instead of that, though, the alarm continues to blare, and all Friday says is, “Urgent. Urgent. Urgent.”

Which is code for: someone’s about to die if he doesn’t hurry.

Instantly, he jumps to his feet, feeling wide awake despite being on the brink of dozing off just a few short moments ago. “Okay,” he tells himself, rushing out of his room and sprinting towards the elevator, which is already open and waiting for him. He only just barely thinks to swipe his tablet along the way, clutches it in his hands while he says, “Okay, okay, okay—who, uh—Friday? Who is it?”

“Iron Man and Spider-Man are both heavily injured and require immediate assistance,” Friday informs him gravely. “Doctor Cho is already treating Mr.Stark and has told me to inform you that you will be in charge of Mr. Parker.”

“Oh, god,” Harley breathes, pinching the bridge of his nose and giving himself a second to take a deep breath while the elevator takes him down to the proper floor. “Jesus. Okay. I need, uh—give me a list of Peter’s injuries, Fri.”

“Of course, Mr. Keener.”

The list is sent to his tablet immediately, and it’s—extensive. Third degree burns and multiple shattered ribs and various bullet wounds, only some of which are clean through, meaning that there’s various bullets that they need to remove before Peter starts to heal around them. The more he reads, the faster his heart thunders in his chest while his mind automatically sorts through it to think of what needs to be prioritized, what to treat first, and how to keep Peter alive.

By the time he reaches Peter’s room, he has a game plan figured out, and he only falters for a short moment when he sees Peter on the hospital bed, writhing around and sobbing in pain. The rest of the medical staff in the room freeze, likely already aware that Helen put him in charge, and wait with bated breath.

“Alright,” Harley says, mostly to himself. “Here’s what we’re going to do.”

—

Maybe it is a crush.

Harley is finding it hard to deny it now, as he sits beside Peter’s hospital bed, his hands feeling a little bit shaky where they’re clasped together and hanging between his knees. They had to undergo emergency surgery, and Peter’s heart had stopped four times throughout the procedure. Bringing him back had been the most panic inducing thing Harley has ever experienced in his life, and he couldn’t even show it because he was the one that was put in charge.

But they did, all four times —they got his heart going again and they got out all the bullets and treated all the burns and did everything they could to stabilized the broken bones. They gave him multiple IV’s, all of which he’s still attached to, and he hasn’t woken up since he passed out from the pain shortly after Harley’s arrival—and he passed out looking at Harley, too, with wide, pleading eyes that seemed to be begging for mercy, filled with agony and despair.

Harley would do anything to never have to see that look again.

“How’s he doing?” Helen asks, stepping into the room. She looks tired, undoubtedly exhausted from doing whatever she could to stabilize Tony just a few rooms down. Harley feels that exhaustion in his very bones.

“He’s gonna be fine,” Harley tells her. “Lost him a few times, though.”

Helen hums sympathetically. “But you got him back.”

Harley hesitates, then nods. “Yeah, we did.”

“Good,” Helen says, laying a gentle hand on his shoulder. “You did good.” She stays like that for a moment, doesn’t move, and Harley appreciates the gesture but kind of wants to be alone. Maybe she senses that, because a moment later, she’s pulling her hand back and asking, “Are you staying here?”

“‘Til he wakes up,” Harley tells her.

Helen smiles at him warmly. “Make sure you get some rest, too, okay?”

Harley doesn’t think he’ll be able to sleep until he sees Peter awake and talking again, but he still nods at her and says, “Yeah, alright.”

After Helen leaves the room, after it’s just Harley and Peter again, he finds himself reaching forward and taking Peter’s hand in his, and, other than the innocent brush of fingers when passing a coffee cup, this is the first time they’ve touched outside of Harley treating Peter’s wounds. It’s a bit of a startling realization, but Harley finds comfort in the contact, listens to the steady beeping of the heart monitor and starts to relax with the reassurance that he really did good, that Peter is going to be okay and Harley is the one that saved him.

He doesn’t mean to fall asleep, but with that relief flooding his veins and Peter’s hand in his, he finds himself dozing off and doesn’t bother forcing himself awake.

—

At first, he doesn’t realize he’s waking up, his senses still muddled with sleep. It feels almost as if he’s floating in unconsciousness, warm and comfortable and— 

“Harley?”

And he wakes with a jolt, eyes snapping open and instantly searching, only coming to a stop when they land on wide brown eyes looking right back at him. “Oh,” he breathes, blinking once and sitting up straight despite the way it makes his back complain. “Oh, my god. You’re awake.”

Peter tilts his head, just a little bit, and looks down at their intertwined fingers.

“Right. That.” Harley clears his throat and scrubs his free hand over his features, trying to wake himself up with a sheepish little smile. “It’s, um—not important, actually. How do you feel? Any pain, discomfort, anything like that?”

For a moment, Peter doesn’t respond, just keeps looking at their hands before rasping out a hoarse little, “’m kinda—kinda thirsty. M’throat hurts.”

Instantly, Harley gets to his feet and pulls open the mini fridge in the room to grab a bottle of water. He takes it back to Peter, hands it over, and feels somewhere stuck between doctor mode and something else, the worry and the uncertainty and the fear from hearing the flat line all mixing together until he feels nauseous with it. Peter accepts the water bottle gratefully, takes tentative sips from it and only winces slightly when he swallows it. “Better?” Harley asks.

Peter smiles, a bit small and tired, but just as genuine as always. “Yeah.”

“Good,” Harley murmurs, hovering by the chair he had been sitting in before. “Is there anything else? Just, like—anything at all? How do you feel?”

“Tired,” Peter tells him. “Like, um... groggy, y’know? And... out of it.”

Harley nods, a bit relieved that the dose of pain killers he chose was the right amount. “That’s to be expected. You were really roughed up, Pete.”

Peter frowns down at his water, brows knitting together. “What happened?”

“There was an ambush,” Harley tells him. “I guess Doc Ock was out and about, so you went to confront him and he got enough hits in to alert Tony, so he went to help you out, but Ock apparently teamed up with Rhino and they were able to catch you guys off guard and get the upper hand. Rhodey and a few others went to help out, but they didn’t get there in time to stop you guys from nearly getting killed, so, when you came in, it was... not pretty. But, you’re both gonna be fine.”

He wants to say that it’s not a crush. It can’t be a crush, isn’t supposed to be one, even if seeing the way Peter lets out a puff of air and relaxes back into his pillows is kind of a... not so bad sight. He looks tired and a bit beat up and a little too pale, but he’s good. He’s alive. Being alive looks good on him.

Maybe, Harley admits. Maybe it is a crush.

“Thank you,” Peter murmurs, head lulling back into the pillows. He holds out a hand and Harley isn’t sure what the action is for, but he doesn’t think before reaching forward and tangling their fingers together.

Harley clears his throat. “What for?”

“Not letting me die,” Peter says.

The mere idea of letting Peter die makes Harley’s heart stutter in his chest. “Of course,” he mumbles, a bit stricken. “I’ll always save you. It’s my job.”

Peter squeezes Harley’s hand, falls asleep with a sigh and a smile on his face.

Harley still doesn’t leave.

(It’s definitely, one hundred percent, a huge, gigantic crush, and maybe... maybe he’s okay with that. Maybe liking Peter Parker isn’t all that bad.)

[autistic-shaiapouf]

Putting this out not as a desperate plea, but as kind of a genuine question bc some of you have definitely had this experience and I just wanna see where this ends up 🤔 it's something I'm getting better about but it's still irritating

So I'm a former gifted kid, this is not a mark of honor or pride, but that combined with previously undignified adhd made me pretty work oriented. Having to put in the extra effort to compensate for adhd and then having the constant honors and ap classes meant I was pretty much always doing academics somehow and NO I wasn't involved with any clubs or competitive anything bc my schedule was a mess due to reasons beyond my control and I wasn't able to do anything after classes ended (which I can elaborate on bc it makes me angry to this day, four years later).

For my first three years of college I layered my classes and usually took 5 a semester, when the average is usually 4. Once more, no clubs but that's a personal choice (the knitting club has tried to recruit me at least 2x now but I just. didn't join lmao). I'm in my last year and doing an undergrad thesis and it was suggested I really lighten my workload to make time for data analysis, which I did. 3 classes, minimal work.

Now herein lies the issue: I'm more than used to unnecessary pressure and doing "productive" work all the time that I actually don't know how to enjoy spare time. I mean I'm finally settling into playing a few pokemon games and looking through the backlog of music I have but I feel like I should be doing more. Like I need a better usage of my time and just having fun isn't the best option. Obviously being able to relax is important!! especially bc I have anxiety!!! but I'm not entirely sure I really know how anymore.

Like I'm definitely getting better about it but I feel like I need to have a "productive" task consisting of self betterment or academic work lined up or else I'll feel like I've wasted a day. And yeah I am addressing this in therapy as well but,, yall got any tips for feeling good about doing things that you do solely for you?? I like the things I do for fun I just wanna not feel kinda guilty about them sometimes, if I spend a whole day looking up musicians and taking anime screenshots more power to me but like. I wanna feel it

[And just for conjecture, yeah there's a pretty good chance I used classes as a sort of self medication for adhd, to stave off understimulation, but it's also all I really knew.. the gifted program needs to be burned to the ground I think. I did get pushed by family for perfection and I got very used to working in a panic. I never knew how to study but GOD was I on that academic grind.. and now that I won't be and am gonna have time time myself I literally just. don't know what to do with it. I can freely draw or do other things during a class but in my own time for me?? Feels Weird Chief]

[taetaesbaebaepsae]

Ring

A/N: Idk where this came from but there will probably be a sequel featuring switch!Jimin bc I just can’t get this whole idea outta my head. I feel like @jimins-ass-eater​ and @thiccasswonhoruinedmylife​ will enjoy this one

Summary: You’re mad at your boyfriend, Jimin, and he just wants to make it up to you.

Warnings: A vibrating cockring, reader being a whole tease, a tiny bit of oral (f. receiving and m. receiving), Jimin being a whole whiny mess, unprotected sex, swallowing, pwp basically

Word Count: 1448

"Please, Jagi. It's been weeks. I said I was sorry, yeah?"

You look back at your boyfriend over your shoulder as you bend down to dry off after your shower.

Jimin lets out a little whimper from the bed. 

He's  licking his full lips and watching you with half lidded eyes, black hair messy. You can see the line of his cock in his boxer briefs.

The sight causes heat to pool in your belly. "It's been a week since you've been home, you drama queen, and I'm still mad at you."

Jimin is pouting, almost sullen, when you sit on the edge of the bed to lotion your legs, making a show of it.

"I'm sorry, Jagi. I drank too much and I'll never, never look at another woman again, I swear. I love you so much." His tone is so earnest that you're fighting a smile.

Honestly, it was more the principle of the thing than actual anger. It wasn't as if he'd done anything unforgivable, just being too tipsy and flirty at a bar while he was away, with Taehyung sending you the evidence.

You'd been a little peeved, but mostly because you knew if the opposite happened, Jimin would be furious.

So it's a week into his break and you haven't let him touch you, only giving him a chaste kiss in the mornings, and he's all but begging you, at this point.

Really, you'd stopped being mad three days ago, but he's so cute when he's pouty and desperate.

You feel his lips on your shoulder. "C'mon, baby. I missed you, yeah? You know I only want you."

You slip your legs up on the bed and his eyes trail up your body before landing on your face.

"So if I was all over some guy at a club while you were thousands of miles away, you wouldn't be mad, is that what you're saying."

Jimin's brow furrows. "I-I'd be livid," he admits, hanging his head in defeat.

You nod, satisfied. "Exactly. Part of me wants to go out and do the same thing, just to spite you."

His head jerks up, throat working. "You wouldn't."

"I might," you say flippantly. "Haven't decided."

Jimin clenches his jaw tight. "I know I'd deserve it, Jagiya, but please don't. You know how crazy it makes me to think of you with someone else."

"So what, you think I liked seeing you batting your eyes at some skank in France while I was home waiting for you to call?" You snap, and maybe you are still mad.

Jimin leans his head on your shoulder. "I'm sorry," he mumbles miserably, and you can't help dropping a hand into his hair to stroke it.

"Maybe you can make it up to me," you croon, and he lifts his head, nodding eagerly.

"I'll do anything you want, Jagi," he says, tone fierce.

You reach into your nightstand drawer to pull out the vibrating cock ring you'd purchased while he was away, hoping to use it his first night back instead of arguing and making him sleep on the couch.

Jimin's eyes widen. "What's that?"

You raise an eyebrow. "You said anything I want, right?"

Still naked from your morning shower, you reach for the waistband of his underwear and he gasps a bit, lifting his hips to help you tug them off.

You slide the rubber cockring down on him without a warning and he sputters a little.

You smile. It's easy to forget sometimes with all his natural charisma and feigned arrogance that your Jimin was fairly inexperienced.

"What... what's that?" He breathes, but he's already hard from morning wood and growing harder beneath your hand.

"It's something to help me feel good," you say simply, and with a mischievous smile, you flip the little switch on the top and it starts to buzz.

Jimin lets out a surprised cry, his hips jerking. "Fuck. Fuck, Y/n, that's…"

He trails off, his hands hovering over you as if he needs permission to touch you, so you take his hands and put them on your breasts and he moans.

You push at his chest but he's focused on rolling your nipples between his fingers.

"Lie down, baby. Want to ride your face," you pant. Watching him twitch beneath you is making heat and wetness pool between your thighs.

Jimin obeys, licking his lips, and when you lower yourself down to him he uses his hands to spread you, breath hot on your core as he sucks your clit into his mouth.

But right when you're gasping, he turns his head to the side, breathing hard.

"Jagi, I...I can't, you have to turn it off," he manages, muffled against your thigh.

You frown, leaning to circle his cock with your hand and he gasps again, biting down on your thigh so suddenly it makes you yelp in surprise.

"It doesn't feel good?"

He moans out against your skin. "Feels too good. Like I'm just about to cum, but.."

You stroke your hand up once, experimentally, and his hips jerk, a low whine coming from his throat.

"It's working, then. It's supposed to make you last longer, so I can use your dick to get off."

He laps at you a few more times, making your breath catch in your throat, but he turns away again.

"I'm sorry," he gasps out again. "I can't focus, Jagi, you have to ride me, please-"

You huff out a breath but you spin around to straddle his thighs, looking down into his eyes, concerned. You know Jimin, and you know how he has a tendency to endure more than he should for the benefit of others. 

"You okay? This is okay?" You touch his face.

He gives you a smile. "I'm okay, just need your cunt, baby, please... haven't had you clenching around me in weeks-"

He grips your hips hard when you roll against him, coating him in your slick, gritting his teeth, looking up at you desperately.

You guide him into you, and he whimpers when you don't lift your hips up, rock forward so that the little vibrating nub rubs against your clit.

Jimin's hands move from your hips to your breasts, pulling at your nipples just like you like, watching you roll your hips, breath hitching in his chest.

The little vibrating egg is just enough to have you close, but you can't quite get to the edge, whining a bit as you get close but can't manage to cum.

"What do you need, baby?" Jimin asks, voice low, almost hoarse.

Your thighs are burning, mouth dry. "Need...need you to fuck me, please, I can't-”

With a grunt Jimin flips you over gracefully, sliding out of you only for a second, holding his breath as he adjusts the cock ring a bit.

When he's inside you again you groan out, it's so much deeper, so much better at this angle, and Jimin grinds his hips against you with every thrust, face focused and almost determined. 

"Sh-shit, Jimin, I'm gonna cum,please, please don't stop-" you babble, and he fucks you harder for a few strokes before pressing his pubic bone against yours, the nub vibrating against you enough to finally throw you over the edge and Jimin lets out an almost mournful moan as you clench around him.

Usually, he fucks you through your orgasm, but this time he pulls out of you immediately, rolling off you and ripping off the cockring, pumping his fist and moaning, thighs trembling, as you lean up on one elbow and raise an eyebrow at him.

"You need some help, baby?"

"Please," he gasps, but he doesn't stop stroking himself, precum dribbling from his tip.

You lean down to take the tip of his cock in your mouth and he grunts. 

"Right there, Jagi, just…" he trails off into a groan when you suck gently, still fisting himself, bucking his hips, and it's only a moment before he cries out, releasing warm and a bit salty into your mouth.

You keep sucking until he releases his grip, throwing a forearm over his eyes, panting.

You laugh a little and he pouts without uncovering his eyes. "Now will you stop being mad at me?"

"I will after tonight," you promise, smirking at him. You stand to get dressed for work.

"What does that mean?"

You don't answer, just wiggling on your slacks.

"Jagi?"

Once your dressed, you go to kiss that pouty mouth, slipping your tongue inside just a bit, and he whines when you pull away.

"Going out tonight," you call from the doorway, and when you hear his cry of protest, you can't help giggling.