#actually i was freezing all over. that shirt is completely soaked and i was like welp

[painless-innit-colourful]

I'll take this cold any day

Over the fires of hell

[heejake-hoon]

Milked in the Stacks

CW: Dom!Heeseung x sub!Jake x sub!afab!reader, threesome, face fucking, mxm actions, messy make out, facials, names calling (slut, whore...etc), creampie, a bit of breeding kink (if you squint) and more WC: 4,159 (of pure filth and nastiness) A.N: I had thoughts about this while being on the plane nd couldn't stop thinking about it, so enjoy. Also this is my first time writing threesome/mxm so don't have high expectations.

You shift awkwardly at your desk, the dull scribble of your pen filling the dimly lit library. It's late - too late for anyone to really be here, especially on a Friday night. But you're a diligent student, working hard towards that 4.0 GPA. Even if it means missing out on the raucous parties just a few blocks away.

The muffled thump of bass drums reach your ears, barely audible through the thick stone walls. You roll your eyes. Typical of the frat crowd to be so obnoxiously loud. Your mind wanders to the rumors about the jocks and meatheads that dominate Greek life on campus. Drunken debauchery, orgies, hazing rituals…you shudder at the thought.

A loud bang makes you jump, quill skidding across the page. Two figures stumble into the library, all tangled limbs and sloppy kisses. You quickly avert your eyes, but can't help but sneak another peek.

It's Heeseung and Jake - the hottest guys at your college. Heeseung is a senior, the quintessential frat boy stud. Rumpled peachy hair, broad shoulders tapering down to slim hips. Jake is the opposite - an unassuming sophomore from the honor society, glasses askew and baby face flushed red.

You've had a crush on the two of them for ages, despite their completely different social circles. Heeseung practically oozes effortless charisma and sex appeal. While Jake's innocent demeanor stirs a protective urge deep inside you.

Your thighs clench involuntarily as Heeseung pushes the smaller man against the bookshelves, grinding their clothed erections together. Why are they doing this here? A small, neglected part of your brain whispers hopefully that maybe, just maybe, it's for your benefit.

Jake lets out a breathy moan, quickly muffled by Heeseung's demanding mouth. They're really getting into it, completely oblivious to your wide-eyed stare. You should leave, right? Give them some privacy? But you're utterly transfixed, squirming in your seat.

Heeseung pulls back with a cocky grin. "You want it that bad, baby? Right here in the fucking library?" His voice is a low, gruff murmur, dripping with lust.

Jake whimpers, nodding eagerly. "Please, need you…"

Your panties are absolutely soaked at this point. Why do you feel like you're the one being teased instead? Heeseung's piercing gaze flits over to your corner, finally noticing your presence.

Rather than looking embarrassed, his signature smirk only grows wider. No, he looks…predatory. You freeze like a deer caught in the headlights. This can't be happening. Not to you, the innocent bookworm who wouldn't know what to do with a hot guy like that if you tried.

Except Heeseung doesn't give you a choice. In one smooth motion, he's sauntering over to your desk, chest puffed and knees swaggering. Jake quickly follows behind, smoothing his rumpled shirt and looking deliciously debauched.

"Well, well…looks like we've got an audience," Heeseung drawls, looming over your pitiful scribbles. Your throat is dry, heart pounding in your chest.

He leans in close, the crisp scent of his cologne and something muskier making your head spin. "You've been a naughty girl, watching us like a fucking pervert."

Jake's face is burning crimson beside you, seemingly conflicted between embarrassment and arousal. God, the two of them are gorgeous. You want them so bad, have fantasized about this very situation more times than you can count.

But you never imagined it would actually happen. And you're utterly paralyzed, heat pooling steadily between your legs.

"I think she liked what she saw, Jakey," Heeseung continues darkly. He grips your chin roughly, tilting your face up to meet his blown-out gaze. "Doesn't she look so pretty? All innocent and shit. Makes me wanna fuck her up. What do you think?"

Jake swallows thickly, shifting closer. You can feel the heat radiating off his body. His shy, hesitant voice sends delicious tingles down your spine.

"H-Heeseung…I don't know if we should…" But he doesn't protest any further as the older man captures your lips in a searing, demanding kiss. You're frozen in shock as Heeseung's lips move insistently against yours. His tongue sweeps along the seam of your mouth, demanding entry. You can't help but gasp, allowing the velvet muscle to delve inside and map every warm, wet crevice.

The frat boy kisses with a bruising intensity, like he's trying to devour you whole. One large hand fists in your hair, angling your head for deeper control. You moan shamelessly into his mouth, the sweet taste of beer and something darker on his tongue.

An envious groan rumbles from Jake's chest. His hand comes to rest on your knee, squeezing needily. You jump at the contact, pulse fluttering beneath his soft fingertips. Feeling emboldened, he shifts forward, peppering feather-light kisses along the column of your exposed neck and shoulder.

You whine at the sensation, lashes fluttering. Jake and Heeseung work in tandem, overwhelming your senses with their contrasting techniques. One utterly dominant and demanding, the other achingly gentle and worshipful. It's dizzying, heat rapidly pooling between your thighs.

When the need for air becomes too great, Heeseung breaks away with a carnal growl. His pupils are blown out, lips wet and kiss-swollen. An obscene string of saliva connects you briefly before snapping. You're left panting, hair mussed and no doubt blushing furiously.

"That's it, sweetheart. Let out those pretty little whimpers for us," Heeseung rasps, voice like gravel. His hands roam down your body, caressing the curves he's clearly admired from afar. You whimper again as he cups your breast brazenly through your thin shirt, thumbing the sensitive peak.

Jake whines against the side of your neck, rutting minutely against your thigh. You can feel his impressive bulge straining against the tight denim, begging for friction. Some deeply repressed part of you wants to drop to your knees and release his thick length with your mouth. But you're utterly powerless, helplessly trapped between the two devastatingly handsome men.

"Let's get these clothes off, yeah?" Heeseung tugs impatiently at your shirt, lips quirking at your deliciously dazed expression. Jake gives you a look full of unspoken questions, silently asking your consent. You bite your lip and nod, subtly arching your back to allow Heeseung to pull the fabric up and over your head.

The crisp library air raises goosebumps along your bare torso, peaked nipples hardening in anticipation. Heeseung hums appreciatively at the sight, hands splayed across the soft swell of your belly and ribs. He leans back to take you in, unashamed as his gaze roams over every dip and curve with rapacious hunger.

Jake lets out a shuddering sigh, breath fanning across the heated skin of your chest. His mouth latches on to your collarbone, sucking vibrant blooms of crimson and violet that'll surely last for days. The thought sends a thrill down your spine, claimed and marked by them both.

"You look so fucking good, pretty girl. All spread out just for us," Heeseung growls. He watches the display beside him with dark, hooded lids. A long, thick finger traces the outline of Jake's eager mouth, tugging his plump lower lip down obscenely. "Think I'll let my boy have his fun first. He was so cock hungry earlier, weren't you sweetheart?"

Jake flushes even deeper, pupils blown wide as he obediently sucks the digit into the scorching heat of his mouth. A hot flash of arousal streaks through you at the sight, your neglected pussy clenching with need. The smaller boy swirls his tongue around the offering reverently, lewd sucking noises filling the hush of the library.

You mewl softly as Jake diverts his attention back to you, trailing hot kisses across your chest and stomach before hovering over the waistband of your jeans. His eyes flick up to your face, pupils blown, silently seeking permission to continue this downward trajectory.

Heeseung chuckles darkly behind him, carelessly unfastening his own belt buckle. The metallic clink makes you jolt, nerves and arousal battling for dominance. "Go on, angel. Been waiting all night to get a taste of this pretty little pussy."

Heat rushes to your cheeks at his crude words, but you shakily nod. Jake's talented fingers make quick work of your jeans, tugging the restricting fabric down your trembling thighs and calves. You shift forward, lifting your hips to allow him to remove them fully, leaving you in just your simple cotton panties.

Heeseung groans, heavy cock straining against his boxer briefs. His large hand pumps the thick shaft slowly, smearing the pearly bead of pre-cum gathering at the flushed tip. "Fuck, look at you. Such an obedient little slut, already dripping for us."

You whine at his filthy words, undeniably turned on despite your innocent demeanor. He's right - the flimsy material between your legs is absolutely soaked through, a dark spot betraying the evidence of your arousal. The scent of your desire hangs thick and heady in the air between you.

Jake doesn't hesitate, nuzzling his flushed cheek against the damp cotton. You gasp sharply at the contact, hips bucking up for more delicious friction. He mouths hungrily at your clothed sex, the tip of his tongue teasing along the seam in a featherlight facsimile of what's to come.

"There you go, Jakey…taste how fucking sweet she is."

Heeseung fists his hand in Jake's soft, honey blonde locks, guiding his eager mouth along your aching folds. You tremble beneath his reverent ministrations, head thrown back in pleasure. A tiny, overwhelmed part of you still can't quite believe this is truly happening. That the objects of your deepest, darkest fantasies are lavishing their attention upon you in such an illicit way.

"P-please…" you beg breathlessly, fingers scrabbling against the worn wooden desk beneath you. Your back arches as the smaller boy licks a broad, luxurious stripe up your slit through the damp cotton. "Want…need…"

"Poor baby, you're so worked up," Heeseung coos mockingly, thumbing the glistening head of his impressive length. "Don't worry…we'll give you exactly what you need."

With an obscene growl, he hooks his fingers beneath the elastic waistband of your underwear, tugging them to the side in one sharp motion. Your glistening, swollen folds are finally exposed to the chilly air, flushed and weeping with need. You squirm under their focused gazes, suddenly shy and self-conscious.

Jake lets out a needy whine at the sight of your exposed sex. His breath ghosts over the glistening folds in hot puffs, close enough that you squirm from the sensation.

"Such a pretty fucking pussy," he rasps, voice deep and husky with lust. You moan softly as his velvet tongue laps at your slick folds experimentally.

Heeseung crowds closer, lazily stroking his thick length just inches from your face. "That's it, baby. Get her nice and messy for me."

You keen, throwing your head back as Jake seals his mouth over your entrance, that clever tongue working you open with broad, filthy strokes. He's utterly shameless, cheeks hollowed with effort as he suckles noisily at your essence. Wet squelching noises and your breathless whines fill the air.

Your hips roll in small, desperate circles, chasing more of that delicious friction. Jake accommodates readily, plush lips stretched obscenely around your aching clit. He lavishes the swollen bud with searing attention, flicking his tongue against it insistently.

"Oh-oh god…!" you sob out, trembling on the precipice of release. The coiling pleasure is exquisite, warmth blooming across your heated skin.

Heeseung chuckles smugly. He guides the weeping head of his cock to smear your lips with sticky pre-cum. You don't hesitate before opening obediently, suckling at the salty bead on your tongue. He groans approvingly, thrusting shallowly to paint your pretty mouth with his essence.

"Dirty girl…knew you'd be so good for us," he rumbles. His free hand slides into the tresses at your nape, tilting your head back further. You gag softly as the thick cockhead catches on your soft palate, thighs clenching around Jake's frantically working mouth.

Jake mewls desperately between your thighs, greedy for your impending climax. He looks utterly wrecked, hair mussed and lips red and swollen from his efforts. Yet he refuses to let up, dutifully fucking his dexterous little tongue into your sopping channel with fervor.

The orgasm slams into you with staggering force. You wail around Heeseung's cock, body convulsing as gushing waves of bliss crest over you. Jake laps greedily at the fresh rush of your arousal, glassy eyes screwed shut in concentration.

Heeseung ruts into the tight walls of your mouth, forcing you to swallow around his impressive length. Thick rivulets of drool and precum stream down your chin, lewd choking sounds tearing from your abused throat. Your head swims from overstimulation and lack of air.

"Ah fuck…keep going slut, take it all for me," he growls, hips snapping shallowly. Your makeup is utterly ruined, mascara streaking ebony trails down your cheeks. But you've never felt more debauched, more wanted in your entire life.

Just as your vision begins to darken around the edges, he pulls out with a guttural moan. His cock slaps wetly against your cheek, leaving a smear of pearly essence behind as the veiny shaft pulses. You suck in desperate gulps of air, blinking up at the frat stud through a lusty, tear-blurred gaze.

"Christ, you look like a fucking dream," he pants, roughly thumbing your spit-slick lower lip. "All messy and used up already."

Jake finally pulls away with an obscene slurp, a dazed and thoroughly fucked-out expression painting his features. His face glistens with your arousal, lips bitten red and wet. Heeseung turns his hooded gaze on him hungrily.

"Give it to me, sweetheart," he orders gruffly. Jake scrambles to obey, crawling up your body to desperately seal their lips together. You watch, transfixed, as Heeseung thoroughly plunders the other boy's mouth, no doubt tasting every musky essence lingering on Jake's skilled tongue…

You shudder at the filthy, indecent display unfolding before your very eyes. Jake is completely pliant and submissive, whimpering eagerly as Heeseung's thick fingers tangle roughly in his honey-blond hair. The ravenous kiss goes on and on, the wet sounds of their arduous french baiting and desperate groping drowning out all other noise.

Heeseung's molten gaze pins you in place with the weight of his carnal hunger. He reaches for you, large hands gripping the backs of your thighs in a bruising hold.

"Bend those pretty little legs for me, princess. Gonna show you just how fucking good I can make you feel," he growls, voice dripping with lust. You obey mindlessly, allowing him to tug you flush against his body, feet planted on the edge of the sturdy desk.

Your breath catches as the thick length of his cock drags along your dripping folds, spreading your arousal in silken streaks. Heeseung's lips quirk into that infuriating smirk as he watches your features contort with needy desperation.

With one powerful drive of his hips, he buries himself to the hilt inside your welcoming heat. Your back bows off the desk, a broken mewl torn from your chest as he stretches and fills you in one deliciously obscene thrust. Stars burst across your vision, tingling shockwaves of sensation radiating through your core.

"Fucking hell…gonna ruin this greedy little cunt," Heeseung hisses, voice tight with rapture. He wastes no time, immediately pounding into you with harsh, sharp strokes that knock breathy moans from your trembling lips.

Each powerful thrust makes your breasts jiggle enticingly, nipples peaked and aching for attention. You feel utterly split open and impaled on his cock, the velvet steel length rubbing torturous friction against your slick, spongy walls. Obscene squelches and gasps fill the library with every brutal slide.

Jake watches with rapt, shamelessly hungry eyes, his plush mouth gaped open. He strokes his own weeping length eagerly, precome drooling from the flushed head. Finally, he leans in and busies his talented tongue against Heeseung's flexing bollocks, kitten licking and sucking at the heavy, musky sac in a worshipful display.

"Ah yes…fuck…there's a good boy," Heeseung moans, snapping his hips into your fluttering heat with renewed vigor. He grips Jake's hair in a brutal fist, shoving his face more insistently against his saliva-slick balls.

The sordid visual is almost too much to bear, combined with the harsh pounding of your battered core. You're utterly suspended at the precipice, teetering on the knife's edge of blissful oblivion. Frantic whines and pleas tumble from your bruised pout shamelessly.

"Shh, gonna give you my cock like a good girl," Heeseung pants, hand drifting up to palm a hefty, swollen breast roughly. His rough palm captures your turgid nipple, rolling and tugging at the sensitive peak viciously. "Want to feel your sweet little cunt squeezing me when you cum…"

With one final, brutal snap of his hips, the barrage is too much. The frayed threads of your control snap as a blinding orgasm rocks through your very being. Back bowing off the desk like a taut cord, you cry out in shuddering bliss as rapturous pulses of euphoria convulse through your overstimulated form. Heeseung fucks you through each exquisite wave, working his cock into your fluttering spasms as your slick arousal splatters obscenely between your bodies.

He finally pulls out with a groan, thick shaft slick and gleaming with your combined essence. Jake instantly latches onto the glistening cockhead, tongue chasing every musky streak hungrily. Heeseung groans, harsh and guttural, forcing the smaller man to take his length deeper into his hollowed cheeks.

With one final shuddery gasp, his entire body seems to freeze for one endless, suspended moment. Jake's eyes flutter shut as thick ropes of pearly release are painted across his upturned features, a fresh mural of debasement and desire.

The depraved scene shifts before your lust-glazed eyes before Heeseung hauls you possessively onto his thick length once more, sheathing himself to the root inside your convulsing, creamy pussy with one brutal grind of his hips. You cry out, already feeling so deliriously full and claimed by his sheer virility.

Snarling in satisfaction, Heeseung grips the mounds of your ass cheeks in a bruising grip, starting up a punishing rhythm that has you jouncing up and down his cock obscenely. Wet squelching sounds and your breathless moans fill the library as he claims what's rightfully his.

But he's not done sharing the spoils with his smaller counterpart. Heeseung beckons Jake over with a curl of one thick finger, that predatory alpha glint in his eyes. The willowy blonde immediately crawls to obey, chest heaving with arousal at the lurid display.

"Open up for me, baby," Heeseung orders lowly. "Princess here is gonna get her pretty mouth just as fucked as her greedy little cunt."

He tugs on your hair sharply to guide your head back, exposing the line of your bruised throat. Your lips part readily, tongue lolling out in a gesture of wanton submission. Jake doesn't need any further encouragement.

He shuffles upright and aligns the flushed, weeping crown of his cock with your waiting mouth. You moan thunderously as he slides between your puffy, slicked lips. He's not quite as large as Heeseung, but the taste of his pre-release still has you quivering with arousal. He's thick and heavy and deliciously musky on your tongue.

Soon, the raw, barbaric rhythm is established. Heeseung brutally jackhammers up into your slick, spasming cunt, the desk rattling beneath you. But Jake is more measured, smooth rolls of his lean hips that bury his cock to the root in the silken confines of your throat.

You're utterly sandwiched between them, moaning deliriously around Jake's shaft as Heeseung splits you open again and again with his prodigious length. Every nerve ending has been set alight, vibrating at the peak of rapturous overstimulation.

Jake keens and grips your hair tighter, picking up the pace to thoroughly skullfuck you in tandem with Heeseung's savage thrusts. His balls slap against your chin obscenely, smearing pre-release and spit into a sticky mess across your features.

"That's it…take it like the perfect little whore you are," Heeseung snarls from above, drunk on the power trip. "Gonna pump both these tight holes full of our fucking seed…"

The crude words send shockwaves through you. Your thighs are slick and trembling, orgasms fast approaching like a runaway train. Jake seems to sense your impending rapture as well. He fucks your mouth with renewed vigor, choking out your wanton whines into garbled, muffled moans around his pistoning meat.

Heeseung unexpectedly seizes your hips in an iron grip, slamming you down onto his cock with enough force to rattle your teeth. You wail incoherently as that final, brutal thrust shatters the glass ceiling of your control entirely.

Wave after breathtaking wave of orgasmic release convulses through your ravaged form. Every muscle tenses to the point of agony as electrical pulses of ecstasy short circuit your synapses. You're utterly suspended in a dissociative state of bliss, continuous gushes of slick essence sheening your thighs and Heeseung's inhumanly thick cock.

He roars with dark satisfaction, somehow fucking you even harder through the all-consuming storm of climax. Jake whimpers helplessly, face flushing crimson as hot ropes of your drool and excess saliva stream down his shaft in filthy rivulets.

The sight seems to undo him entirely. Tensing beneath you, his movements stutter and falter as a blissful rictus overtakes his pretty features. Heeseung grins savagely and yanks Jake flush against your face, growling for you to "take that fucking load, princess."

That virile command seems to be the final push Jake needs. He arches in freefall, mouth dropping open around a hitched exhalation. The first pulse of his hot seed streaks across your tongue, filling your mouth with its bitter saltiness as you struggle to swallow every tangy pulse.

He cries out in rapturous bliss, hips jerking helplessly to milk himself to completion. Your cheeks hollow with effort, determined to drain him dry like the obedient little cockslut that you are.

"Fuck…yes, take it all you greedy whore," Heeseung growls from above, hips still pistoning relentlessly as he breeds your shuddering, spasming cunt with his brutal length.

His balls slap lewdly against your ass with every punishing thrust, the twin peaks tightening in preparation for his own impending release. You whine around Jake's cock, delighted by the prospect of being thoroughly sullied by both their viscous seed.

Jake finally pulls his spend-smeared length from the debauched 'o' of your mouth with a filthy pop. He staggers back to catch his breath, abs rippling and face gone slack with a hazy, euphoric expression.

Heeseung seizes the opportunity to crash their lips together, devouring Jake's moans with a ravenous growl. He tastes you both on the smaller man's tongue, rich and musky and filthy.

You lie there, feeling utterly impaled and ruined by Heeseung's insistent pounding. Sweat sheens your bodies, which glisten obscenely with each punishing slam of his hips. The coil of your shared pleasure is rapidly reaching its crescendo, nerves alight.

"Where do you want this fucking load, princess?" he snarls against Jake's mouth, teeth nipping at the plump flesh possessively. "Tell me like the dirty girl you are."

"I-inside!" you wail without hesitation, head thrashing against the desk. "Please…please fucking breed me like a good slut!"

Something unhinged flickers across Heeseung's chiseled features. He seizes your jaw in one large palm, grip nearly bruising as he drinks in your deliriously wrecked and wanton expression hungrily.

"That's my girl," he rumbles. Punctuated by another brutal thrust, his next words rasp out in a torrid rush of crudity. "Get ready to get that messy little hole pumped full of my thick fucking seed…"

As if guided by some primal, cosmic trigger, your bodies fall into perfect alignment at long last. His hand winds into your hair while Jake latches onto your swaying tits, suckling frantically at your peaked nipples.

Gripping you in a punishing hold, Heeseung unleashes a final flurry of piston-sharp thrusts. You soar over the edge of oblivion with a guttural scream, consciousness whiting out beneath the force of your cataclysmic rapture.

His throbbing cock slams against that velvet cluster of nerves in a delicious finale, and you spiral endlessly through the white-hot vortex of climax. Your walls flutter and pulsate greedily around his retrograde pulsing length, milking him without quarter.

Heeseung shatters apart with a groan, thick, ropey strands of virile seed flooding your spasming hole to the brink. You shudder as his essence rushes to paint every twitching contour of your insides, coating your receptive walls with its potent finish.

Thick rivulets drool and drip down the cleft of your ass as he continues to pump, determined to thoroughly lay his claim. His vicious grunts eventually trail off into euphoric huffs, cock finally spent.

You both lie there twitching and heaving for breath in the aftermath of your mutual detonation. Jake presses worshipful kisses to every inch of your marked, ravaged bodies in reverent daze. You've never felt more owned, sated or deliciously defiled in your life…

[krirebr]

random hoeing:

Steve catching you in the rain, his white shirt completely soaked and transparent

Ok, this has to be Neighbor Steve.

Warnings: explicit language, more fluff than I normally do, completely unedited, 18+ - MINORS DNI

After Steve caught you ogling him during the heatwave, the tone of your conversations when you run into him in your building has gotten decidedly flirtier. But for whatever reason, that's where it's stopped. As much as you've tried to send signals that you are very open to more, he's never taken you up on it. Which is fine. It's fine. Totally fine. You are very cool with it. The thought of it definitely doesn't make you shrivel up inside. You are so cool.

All of that is the furthest thing from your mind right now, though, as you and your dog run through the rain. It'd been such a nice day, but as you hit the halfway point of your usual longer route, the sky unexpectedly opened up and you and your poor dog were hit by an absolute downpour. Now, finally home, you're both completely soaked and desperate to get inside and dry.

After some fumbling, you get the door to your building unlocked and opened. Just as you're about to get inside and let the door close behind you, you hear your name ring out. You turn around to see Steve hurrying up the path. "Hold the door!" he yells.

You freeze, doing as he asked. Holy shit. He's just as soaked as you, but while you're sure you look like a drowned rat, he very much does not. He– Well. He– He's wearing that damned white t-shirt again. Except it's not white now, it's translucent. You can see everything – that tattoo you spotted before, and a few more to go with it, an incredible set of abs, nipples. Holy shit.

He quickly ushers you inside, thank god, because you can't move on your own, your eyes still stuck to his chest. "Fuck, that came out of nowhere, huh?" he chuckles.

The moment you're out of the rain, your dog proceeds to do her best to shake herself dry, as if the three of you weren't already dripping all over the entryway. "Oh, shit," you mumble, reaching for her without really knowing what to do.

Steve just laughs. And then does it himself, shaking out his golden locks. Part of his hair flops down over his forehead, and you do your best to hold in your gasp. Really it's just so unfair that he could get caught in a rainstorm and come out looking like that. What the actual fuck? you think to yourself.

Except, judging by the way his head whips around to look at you, maybe you didn't think it. Maybe it was more out loud than you'd meant. Oh god. You immediately start babbling, which is unfortunately just as uncontrollable as the initial slip-up you're trying to make up for. "Oh, god, I'm so sorry. I just– I mean– Look at you!" You throw a wild gesture at him as he just stares at you with his mouth open, trying to take in your ramble. "It's cats and dogs out there and you look like that?? While I–" another wild gesture, at yourself this time. "I just– How is it fair that you're so beautiful??"

"You think I'm beautiful?" he finally manages to interject.

"Huh?" And that's when your brain finally catches up. Oh dear god. What is wrong with you?? You cautiously glance at him to find him staring at you, not upset, but like he's trying to figure you out. Fuck it, you suddenly think. You've already embarrassed yourself. You have nothing left to lose. "You wanna get dinner with me sometime?"

You swear that the smile that blooms on Steve's face is bright and warm enough to dry you both off. "I was starting to worry I was reading your signals wrong. Yeah. Yeah, I'd love to."

Your answering smile is strong enough to push all the clouds away.

☔

Thanks for the fun prompt, Eva!

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[recareels]

⋆₊˚⊹♡ wriothesley + putting you back in your place (before you can even fully slip out of it!)

character: wriothesley warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, reader is a Brat, daddy kink, pet names, fem reader, dry humping, talks of spanking, use of the term sir words: 1.6k

wriothesley will never give into your bratting. just like you’ll never stop testing his patience.

The chattering of your teeth echoes throughout his office—soft, dainty, incessant, a soft hum vibrating on the back of Wriothesley’s tongue in question. Glancing up, Wriothesley’s gaze finds your shivering form easily, huddled into a small lump on his office couch, buried beneath the fluffiest blanket he has. 

“Whassa matter? You cold?” 

Features scrunched in a pout, you raise your head a little, glaring at him. “It’s freezing in here.” 

“Yeah, but you’re always freezing,” he clicks his tongue, as if he can’t trust your judgement, but there’s a small smile on his face, his eyes softening as he stares at you. 

“So?”

“So, you are not apt to complete such an evaluation. Here,” he shoves away from his desk, wooden legs of his chair scraping against metal. “Why don’t you come sit on Daddy’s lap, hm? He’ll keep you warm while he works.” 

And just like that, you’re tossing the blanket off—a quickly abandoned heap of fluff on the couch cushion—and scampering towards him, eager to climb onto his thighs, to submerge yourself in his everlasting heat, to garner a shard of his strained, stretched-thin attention. 

He’s chuckling as he rearranges you, large hands helping you into a more comfortable position—face buried in his broad chest, body pressed flush to his own, legs straddling his hips, the bones pressing into plush flesh as your thighs flex around him twice, a feeble attempt to pull yourself even closer to him.

“Not bringing the blanket with you?” 

“Nuh-uh,” you shake your head against his sternum, nuzzling into him. “Don’t need it. You’re warm enough.”

“Oh, am I, now?” he questions as he tucks himself back into his desk, one thick arm wrapped around your waist to keep you in place. “Are you sure this whole thing wasn’t just some ruse to wedge yourself between me and my work?” 

He’s joking, of course, can feel the cold tip of your nose pressing into the dip of his clavicle, can feel your icy fingers creeping their way up his shirt, burrowing into his muscled stomach and soaking up warmth.

“I would never, Daddy.” 

Now, that he doesn’t believe. 

“Mhmm, sure. And you’re going to behave while you’re on Daddy’s lap, right?” 

“‘Course I am.”

“No funny business?”

Nodding sleepily, you press a kiss over his heart, drooling out a promise. “Scouts honour.” 

And, for a moment, Wriothesley thinks you might actually co-operate—a rare but not impossible occurrence—might actually cuddle yourself against him, let his heat deliquesce your limbs and lull you comfortably into dreamland, just like he had expected half an hour ago, when he had decided it was time for a nap, and ordered such.

How utterly foolish. 

Because not even ten minutes into his resumed work—just shy, actually: nine minutes and thirty-two seconds, he’d been counting—and you’re starting to squirm, hips grinding into his as your shift, gyrate, then shift again, much too calculated to be a natural movement. 

“Baby,” he singsongs, pen tapping his paper twice. “I thought you said you were going to be good.”

“M’just tryna get comfy, that’s all,” you mumble into his skin, lips dragging along his protruding collarbone, leaving a steadily cooling streak of saliva.

“Misbehaving and lying? Wow, you’re really trying to earn yourself a punishment today.” 

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

“I’m not, I swear!”

“You know,” he begins conversationally, hands creeping beneath the hem of your dress, calluses grating against supple skin as his palms slide up your thighs, careful, calculated. “Daddy didn’t invite you onto his lap so your could wiggle around and make him hard.” 

His grip clasps around your hips hard, fingers tensing as he holds you in place, nails sinking into the flesh just above the waistband of your panties, latching onto you in tiny stinging bites.

“It’s distracting.” 

The words are spit through gritted teeth, chewed out between heavy molars, the defined hinges of his jaw clenching. 

“Feels good though, doesn’t it?” your hips roll twice in his grasp, slow and forceful, the head of his cock gliding over your swelling, throbbing clit.

It nearly slips between your folds, cunt perfectly outlined by the thin silk clinging to your creases, slick material making the slide easy, panties already drenched all the way through with your arousal. 

Another rock forward has his cockhead catching on your hole, and you swivel your hips in tight, fast circles, almost as if you’re attempting to suck him in through your scant clothing. 

You’re sure you’re making a mess all over his uniform, sure he can feel how disgustingly wet you are from just this alone—a mere bit of dry humping and his stern, strong voice, rumbling against your ribs; doesn’t take much, now, does it?—sticky desire staining the crotch of his pants in a large, irregular patch of dampness. 

“No,” he says sternly, the sheer authority in his voice making you mewl, thighs squeezing his hips again. “It doesn’t.” 

His cock twitches, contradicting his words, and he growls. 

His cock always gives him away. 

A giggle froths in your throat, just barely kept at bay, and he growls again.

You know it’s bad to be laughing, but you just can’t help it—here’s a man with impeccable self-discipline, meticulous, iron-clad control over his own body, and you still manage to make him feel like some horny little virgin, your pelvis rutting again, this time with a vengeance.

It’s a thrill, a rush, to know you have a potent affect on a powerful man, dense heat beginning to sprawl deep within the pit of your belly, empty cunt aching as it flutters against his hard cock—a gentle begging, another surge of wetness rushing to flood the apex of your thighs. 

Still, that doesn’t mean you’re in charge. 

“Move another inch and I swear to the Archons—”

“You’ll do what?” you breathe into his neck, the question hot and beading on his skin. 

“I’ll put you right back on that couch, in time out,” his fingers tighten to near bone-crushing, a cry cracking in your throat. “I mean it.”

Lips molding into a sulky frown, your rub your face into the curve of his shoulder.

“Not fair,” you grumble, the words low and whiny, hitching on the beginnings of a sob. “You’re a big meanie.”

A deep sigh weighs heavy on his chest, ribs decompressing as he exhales, his grip on your waist loosening just a touch.

“Look at me.”

Your head shakes, cheek nestling further into him, a stark refusal.

“Look at me,” Wriothesley repeats, his voice strict, firm, cold, The Duke seeping out past his Daddy facade. “I won’t ask again.”

The command sends a small jolt zipping through your blood, fierce dominance demanding instant attention, and finally, you obey, peeking up from the safety of his shoulder and wincing a little at the intensity of his stare.

“You know what happens to little girls who act like fucking brats,” he warns, ice blue searching your face slow and thorough. 

You do—of course you do. You’ve been in that position more times than you can count. 

They get treated like fucking brats. 

“They get treated like fucking brats,” he echoes your thoughts. “Keep acting like a disrespectful little girl and watch what happens.”

You already know what happens: no sweets, no letters to your friends or trips to the surface, no boardgames before bedtime. 

No fun. 

“But—But! Maybe riding you will help warm me up even more.” 

“You wanna know what else would warm you up even more? A spanking.”

The yelp that hitches in your throat, automatic and half-stifled, is gratifying, satisfaction tugging at a corners of Wriothesley’s lips, edges curling slightly. 

You know he’s not fucking around.

“Is that what you want, huh?” his head dips with yours, effortlessly inhibiting your gaze from escaping his own. “Huh?”

“I—I dunno—”

“Let me revise the question, then.” His voice softens marginally, mollifying beneath your unsure trepidation. “Is that what you need?” 

His eyes are attentive as they scan your face, intent on cataloging and dissecting every slight change in micro-expression, desperate to make sure that you don’t require a therapy spanking.

Is that what you need? Daddy’s strong, solid hand colliding with your bottom in perfectly timed intervals, hard enough to leave a stinging, raised imprint of his palm across your flesh but not harsh enough to procure bruises, or a soreness that lasts more than the night? Daddy’s steady voice, calm and even, calling out numbers echoing after each sharp slap!? Daddy’s thick thighs, sculpted from lean, firm muscle, grounding and pressed tight to your torso, absorbing every shudder of your ribcage, every shiver of your flesh, rippling through your form following each strike?

Do you need a safe space to scream and cry and kick, to let go in every sense of the word and then allow Daddy’s scarred hands to put you back together, piece by painstaking piece, with loving fingers and hushed affirmations? Are you acting out because you’re in dire need of something more, instead of just craving shallow attention and exhilarating entertainment? 

No, you shake your head, you don’t think so.

“Words, sweetheart.”

“No, Sir.” 

“That’s what I thought,” he says, stringent, but his touch is tender, fingertips trailing up your spine in a comforting caress, his other hand massaging small circles into your hip. “Try something again and you will be receiving a spanking. This is your final warning, understood?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good.” He drops a kiss to the crown of your head, then scatters a few more across your scalp for good measure. “Now, be a good girl and go to sleep for me, yeah? You clearly need a nap.” 

You may always test Daddy’s patience, but Daddy always wins. 

[savannahsdeath]

Can we get something where Ellie is injured and when reader takes care of her she feels embarrassed bc she doesn't want to seem weak. But then she like starts crying about "not being strong enough" and just have some cute fluff from reader <33

AHHHZHSBHX i love writing fluff sm like its so comforting !!

ELLIE WILLIAMS X READER

mdni please<3

warnings: minors safe i think?? blood, crying

writers note: its kinda short n all but omghauzb i love ellie sm i need to give her a biiiiggg hug and just never let go like😓🩷my poor baby:(

you intensively listened to the sharp ticking of the clock, waiting for something that'd break the cycle. for someone, actually. for your precious girlfriend ellie, which had a patrol somewhere around jackson. you stayed quiet, listening intently for any signs of her. the sounds of the clock in the background seemed to taunt you, like a reminder of how much time was passing and you had to wait even longer to hear news from her.

it was something about midnight when she finally came knocking on the door, completely soaked in freezing rain. her hair was wet, her face drenched, she looked miserable. you rushed to get a towel to help her dry her hair and body.

when you were done you wrapped your hands around her. she hissed and you instantly pulled away, giving her a pout of pure worry and concern. your eyes inspected her body, without effect. your hands reached out for her top, wanting to take it off and look for any injuries, but she firmly gripped your wrists.

"babe, stop." she said, and maybe you'd listen to her, if her voice didn't sound like begging. and if she begged, she was hiding something.

you freed your hands and rolled her shirt up, revealing a nasty wound on her side. it looked like bullet scratch and it was a miracle - a few millimeters to the left and the shot would pierce her waist.

ellie mumbled a quiet 'fuck...' as her attempt to hide it from you failed. she did her best to look unfazed and pretend to not be in pain, knowing it'd only add to the embarrassment.

ellie sighed and pulled your hands away from the wound, pushing you back. she took a deep breath, the pain evident on her face, and rolled her shirt back down.

"it's fine, i'm fine." she falsely reassured, her shaky voice betraying her attempt to sound tough. she forced a weak smile, trying to play down your worries, but you could tell she wasn't okay.

"ellie, you're bleeding!" you shook your head, your eyes darting back and forth from her wound and her face.

you dragged her to the bedroom, taking a first aid kit from the bathroom on the way. she stayed silent as you softly but forcefully sat her on the bed and started preparing everything.

"this will... sting a bit." you warned her before looking at the disinfectant. you knew it'll do way more than just 'sting a bit'.

ellie avoided looking at you, hating how vulnerable the whole situation makes her feel. she gritted her teeth as you started cleaning the wound, trying to maintain her composure as best as she could. you could hear her breathing get heavier as the pain began to set in, but she was too proud to let you see her cry.

as you continued to work, she looked away from you, ashamed that you had to fix her mistakes. she knew she should have been more careful and hated how weak she appeared in front of you.

"i'm sorry for making you do this." she murmured, her voice barely audible.

ellie sucked in a sharp breath and clenched the sheets as you applied the disinfectant. a wave of pain washed over her, but she managed to stay silent and hold back a scream.

you finished cleaning the wound and began to bandage it, being careful not to hurt her any further. as you worked, you heard ellie sniffle as she struggled to hold back her emotions. you looked up and saw that ellie is watching you with a mixture of gratitude and embarrassment. her eyes were glistening with unshed tears and she was biting her lip to hold back a wail of agony and relief.

"thank you..." she whispered, her voice breaking.

"don't mention it." you said, your eyes full of sympathy for your suffering girlfriend. you gave her a reassuring smile, best you could manage as her pain hurt you too.

ellie took a deep breath, trying to compose herself as the pain subsided, but she couldn't hold back her tears any longer. she buried her face in her hands as she sobbed bitterly, her whole body shaking with emotion.

you gently wrapped her in a hug, holding her tight to give her some comfort. you whispered reassuring words in her ear, trying to calm her down.

"it's alright- sh, shhh..." you stroked her hair in an attempt to provide some solace. "i'll always be here for you, love."

her arms desperately seeked for support in your body, as her tears slowly dropped and soaked into your shirt.

"how can i keep you safe if i can't even take care of myself?" she mumbled, her voice muffled as her face was pressed against your chest.

you continued to hold ellie in your arms, trying to provide her with the comfort and reassurance she needed.

"you're always taking care of me, and now it's my turn to take care of you." you whispered, gently stroking her hair.

ellie looks up at you, her eyes full of gratitude. you feel her embrace tighten as she clings to you for support.

"my strong, amazing els." you smile, giving her a gentle kiss on the forehead.

you held ellie for what seemed like an eternity, neither of you wanting to let go anytime soon. as you continued to cradle her in your arms, you could feel her warm tears running down your chest, now even beneath your shirt.

you felt her begin to calm down, her sobs easing up and her grip on you gradually loosening. suddenly, she pressed her body against you even tighter, almost like she was afraid of losing you after you've provided her with such comfort.

"i love you." she whispered, burying her head in your chest.

you continued gently stroking ellie's hair, unable to stop smiling at her confession.

"i love you too." you whispered back, as if you just shared a really important secret with her, hugging her tightly.

you felt her relax, her body going limp as she nestled into your chest. it felt like time has stopped, and the two of you together in the moment was all that mattered.

you pressed your forehead against ellie's, looking deep into her green eyes.

"always, forever." you added, before sharing your first kiss in a long while.

[flamemittens]

For the bhaalspawn asks:

OK but how does Durge actually view relationships and romance?

From the 9th Edition DU asks here!

Gortash x F!Durge. 900 words.

A/N: So...this got a little out of hand. I'm not even sure if I've answered the question as I got lost in the sauce™, but have this silly thing anyway :)

The weather could have been better tonight.

Admittedly, the trellis that facilitates the climb up to Gortash’s chambers is more difficult to scale in the heavy rain, but she completes her ascent with relative ease, dropping onto the terrace.

There is no need to pick the locks on the doors—in a touch of perhaps foolish confidence he tends to leave them open these days—thus the only challenge is to enter quietly. She slips inside through half-drawn curtains, and pulls the doors shut behind her.

The light in here is low, but her eyes make the adjustment.

Then she sees him.

Enver is fast asleep on one of the large chaises by the fireplace, head back, feet planted on the floor, chest rising and falling. Free of his usual finery, he is simply dressed in a half-open black shirt and trousers. She pads softly over to him intending to wake him up, but…something stays her hand. She stands there frozen in place, a tightness in her chest, and imagines the lifeblood flowing through his veins. Considers him in his vulnerability. Considers them.

She has no point of reference, no guide for how all this is supposed to go. It was never meant to be like this. It’s been an evolution, a negotiation. Communication shifting from parchment to in-person, from neutral locations to between his sheets. Gifts viewed with suspicion at first, then reluctantly accepted. An unwelcome distraction—and indulgence—morphing into a welcome one. A meeting of minds, a push and pull. It is both delightful, and confusing.

She wonders if this is what it is like for everyone.

Truthfully, Enver Gortash is the only friend she has ever had. She smiles, thinking of what Sceleritas would say to that statement—the butler is devoted, and not fond of her Banite.

Her reverie is broken however as Enver chooses this moment to wake up; he gives a brief start, then relaxes, as he looks up at her with a level of softness she’s never seen before.

Something twists painfully in her chest as she realizes he is relieved the interloper is her when he should be afraid—it digs in alongside everything else she carries. She is struck once again by the thought that he has not been afraid of her for some time now. If he ever was. He’s not even surprised.

“Good evening, my dear Bhaalist” he says calmly, voice still raspy from sleep. He reaches out a hand and pulls her closer. “Why are you wet? You’re soaked through.”

“It’s raining outside. I was caught in a downpour.”

A resigned sigh signals his acceptance as he runs a hand across his face. “When it comes to you, it could be worse, I suppose.”

He stands up. “I shall call the servants and have a bath drawn for you.”

“There’s no need. Do not bother them.”

“Nonsense, I insist. For the sake of my new rugs, if nothing else. And I do so enjoy you smelling of my soaps.” He leaves the room, returning a moment later.

“Good. They are seeing to it now.”

“Enver?”

“Yes?”

“Why?”

He frowns and then turns to the fireplace, tossing another log into the flames. “Why what? My dear, as much as I enjoy puzzling you out, you’re going to have to give me more to go on.”

“Why do you care for me?” The question is neither simple nor complex, and it slides off her tongue like liquid before she can stop it. He has his back to her, but she catches how he briefly freezes, a sudden and subtle tension in his shoulders that he expertly dismisses before he continues. She has cornered him—not something that she achieves often with this man who is always several steps ahead—and bent their unspoken rules.

“So, you have decided to ask me all the difficult questions tonight, hmm?” He has opted, of course, for deflection.

“Oh, it’s a difficult question, is it? Should I be offended?”

“You know that’s not quite what I meant.”

“But that’s what you said.”

“Gods below. Well, it certainly isn’t because you infuriate me with disconcerting regularity.”

“No.” She grins slyly. “It’s in spite of that.”

He barks a laugh, then regards her for a moment before continuing.

“Now, while we wait, how about I show you what I’ve been working on today. And after we’re all done, perhaps you can give me the pleasure of your company until morning?”

“Lord Gortash, do you say that to all the guests you host in your personal chambers?”

He closes the distance between them, and gently grips her chin in his calloused fingers, tilting her head from side to side. She hopes to pass the inspection. Granted, there are times when she wants him to be the Chosen of Bane, but others where she prefers him to be Enver. Tonight, she finds she wishes for the latter.

“No” he murmurs after a spell, releasing her. “Only the ones who show up at near midnight drenched from head to toe, drip all over my upholstery, force me to call the servants to prepare a bath, and ask me questions.” He smiles down at her.

Enver it is.

She mirrors his expression. “That sounds awfully tiresome. You must suffer so.”

“Like you wouldn’t believe.”

“Very well” she replies, leaning closer and patting his chest. “Tell me about your day, if you must.”

[antichilde]

common ground

satoru gojo x fem reader, 2.7k words mdni

contents: 18+, fluff and smut, upperclassman gojo, inexperienced reader, thigh riding, vaginal fingering, no use of y/n, one shot… for now. haha, just kidding. unless..?

warnings: somnophilia, use of the word cunt, gendered language (gojo calls you ‘pretty girl’), semi-public sex

notes: let me know if you’d be interested in a part 2. based on a dream i had but i swear i don’t even like gojo that much

ao3 post

You dream of Gojo, warm and solid beneath you. It’s not the first time you’ve dreamed about him, nor will it be the last, but something about this one feels different. All the little details that your mind usually skips over have been filled in: his steady breathing, the scent of his cologne, the softness of his shirt as you clutch at the hem. It would appear that your mind has conjured them all for you to enjoy.

You can’t pinpoint when you become aware of the fact that you’re not completely asleep, but as you doze it registers that this is all a little too real to be a dream. There’s no sense of urgency or sudden revelation in your exhausted mind, just the knowledge that you should probably get up in the near future.

Gojo stirs when your eyes flutter open, your lashes tickling the skin of his neck. “Good morning.”

It’s very clearly not morning. The light streaming in from the windows has the distinct golden quality of late afternoon.

“What time is it?” you ask, rubbing sleep from your eyes.

His glances over at the clock. “A little after five. You were out for about an hour.”

Following his gaze, you recognize the familiar scenery of your dorm’s common area. How did you even…?

It’s at this point that the full context of your situation finally registers: you’d taken a nap on your upperclassman and long-time crush, Satoru Gojo. That on its own would be embarrassing and grounds for merciless teasing, but add to it the fact that you’ve been clinging to his shirt and possibly drooling all over him? He’s never going to let you live this one down.

His arm wraps around your waist as you start to sit up. “Hey, take it easy. No need to get up right away, I’m not going anywhere.”

“But—“

“But nothing. You need to rest.”

Trying to squirm out of his iron grip, you shift on his lap and another humiliating truth makes itself known.

One of his thighs is wedged between your legs. Based on the low buzz of arousal registering in your hips and cunt you’re almost certain you’d been grinding on him in your sleep.

Dropping your head back down onto his shoulder, you try to gauge the situation. Just because you can feel that you’re wet doesn’t necessarily mean that he feels it, right? Unless you’ve already soaked through the thin fabric of your panties, in which case you’re about to die of embarrassment.

“Where’s everyone else?” you ask tentatively.

“Out. They’ll be back in a couple hours.” Gojo’s lips curl into a little smile. “Why do you ask? Are you worried about getting caught in such a compromising position?”

“I just don’t want people to get the wrong idea.”

His smile widens into a full-blown grin. “Yeah, you’re probably right. Can’t have our classmates seeing the wet patch you left on my thigh. That would definitely give them the wrong idea.”

Of fucking course he knows. You’ve had enough of this. Gojo’s grip is as unbreakable as ever, but if you really make a scene you know he’ll let you go.

“That’s it. I’m getting up,” you say. It’s all the warning he gets before you try to escape. Gojo’s eyes widen as you thrash around in his arms, his glasses sliding down his nose.

“Hey, what are y—!”

He tightens his grip on your waist, using it as leverage to hold you at arms length the same way one would a feral kitten. This inadvertently drags your hips along his thigh, pulling a borderline pornographic moan from you. Both of you freeze.

For a moment the only sound is the slight creak of the fan blades whirling overhead.

“…Everyone is actually out, right?” you ask, staring hard at his collar. There’s no way you’re going to be able to meet his eyes right now.

“Yeah.” You can hear the smirk in his voice, smug bastard. “It’s just us.”

He loosens his hold on you, setting your full weight down on his thigh. The stimulation draws a whine from you, considerably less loud but just as embarrassing, and his fingers twitch, digging into you before he makes himself relax them.

“You still wanna get up?” he asks, running the pad of his thumb along your waistband. “Because you can if you want to, or you can keep riding my thigh. It’s up to you.”

Okay, so he’s giving you an out. That’s nice of him, even though there’s no way you’re going to take it. This is so humiliating.

Leaning forwards, you return to your original position, burying your face in his collar. He laughs, cradling you to him.

“Aw, don’t go getting all shy on me now. It’s a little late for that, don’t you think?”

“What was I doing before I woke up?” The question comes out muffled, but he seems to understand it anyway.

“Well, let’s see…” Tapping a finger against his lips, Gojo reflects on the past hour. “At first you were just sleeping quietly, then you started making all these cute little noises. And then… Y’know it might be easier for me to just show you. Would you like that?”

Nodding against him, you shudder as his fingers tighten on you.

“It was like this,” he says, guiding your hips into a slow rhythm. Your eyes flutter closed, moaning softly into the fabric of his shirt.

“You like that, baby?” He stops, patting your thigh. “C’mon. Let me see that pretty face.”

It takes you a moment to work up the nerve but you manage to sit up, your eyes glued to the collar of his shirt.

“Look at me.”

Again, you do as you’re told. Gojo’s glasses are still low enough that he can peek over the top of them, his brilliant eyes drinking in the sight of you. Without thinking, you reach out to push them up the bridge of his nose, your fingertips skimming over his cheekbones.

You shift on his lap, dropping your hands to your sides. “I’m sorry, I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable.”

“Wow, you really are dumb sometimes.” Gojo says, flicking your forehead affectionately. “If you need it spelled out, no, I’m not uncomfortable. It was cute.”

Wincing, you rub at the spot where his fingers made contact. “Was that really necessary?”

You can’t help the way your breath hitches when he reaches out again, this time gently cupping your cheek to hold your face still. The pad of his thumb traces a little heart over the skin of your forehead. It’s enough to lull you into a sense of security, your body relaxing into his hold. You close your eyes, only to snap them open again as he flicks you for a second time.

“Ow! What the hell, Gojo?”

“Sorry,” he says, grinning unapologetically. “I couldn’t help myself.”

“You’re such a bully.”

You swat his hands away and he laughs, leaning against the back of the sofa and folding his arms behind his head. Your eyes travel over him, stopping just below his hips. “And you’re a liar. That doesn’t look very comfortable to me.”

He follows your gaze to the very obvious bulge in the front of his pants.

“Oh, right, that,” he says, his tone conversational. “Yeah, it’s pretty bad. I might die, actually. You wanna help me out?”

“I’ve never done anything like that before.” You can’t seem to look away, your teeth worrying at your lower lip.

“You don’t have to,” he says. “It’s only fun if you’re into it.”

It’s not a question of whether or not you’re into it, more whether or not you’re brave enough to try. You reach out tentatively, glancing up at him for approval before you touch him. He gives you a little nod, catching your hand with his own when he sees the hesitation on your face.

“Do you want me to show you how?”

“Yes please,” you reply shyly.

When he guides your palm to his cock, the first thing you notice is how hard he feels beneath your fingers. It catches you by surprise, which is stupid because it’s literally called a hard on. Still, it’s an unfamiliar sensation, and you let Gojo set the pace.

“Like this,” he says, squeezing your hand just enough to tighten your grip on him. A little noise catches in the back of his throat and without thinking you clench your legs around his thigh again. Your reaction makes him smile.

“You like that, pretty girl? Knowing you’re making me feel good?”

His voice is a little strained, and you take the opportunity to experiment with your strokes, relishing the way his brows knit together when you press down harder.

“Fuck,” he murmurs, his fingers digging into your side. “Keep going, just like that.”

He licks his lips, using his leverage to rock you against him again. You feel him twitch beneath you when you moan breathlessly.

“So fucking cute. It was driving me crazy, feeling you grind on me. You know, you said my name too— I thought I was imagining it at first but you said it again.”

Though one-handed, the grip on your hips is brutal as he rolls you against him in a way that makes you see stars. The rhythm of your fingers falters as you squeeze your eyes shut, feeling a familiar pressure build between your hips. He must feel you start to clench around him again, because he gently nudges your hand away from him.

“Sit back. I want to see you cum.”

He pauses, waiting for you to confirm that’s what you want as well before continuing. His hold on you relaxes, his finger tracing little shapes into the soft skin just below your waistband.

“Like this?” you ask, straightening up.

“A little more.” His voice is tight, though it’s clear he’s making an effort to hide it. You nod, doing as he says, and reach behind you to stabilize yourself.

“Such a good girl,” he murmurs, drinking in the sight of you. “Now lift your skirt.”

His hand slides so that his palm is flat against the small of your back. You’re slow to let go of his thigh, worried about how you’re going to support yourself, but he shakes his head.

“It’s okay. I’ve got you, pretty girl.”

When he sees you hesitate a moment longer, he guides you so that you’re sitting upright again. “Too much?”

“No, not at all.” You fiddle with the pleats of your skirt. “I was just trying to remember which panties I’m wearing. I don’t know if they’re cute ones.”

That draws a smile from him, though he tries to hide it. “Trust me when I say I will not be focused on your panties.”

“Promise?”

“Promise,” he says, and you force yourself to relax, leaning back and letting him support your weight. Your fingers catch at your hem, pulling it up, eyes darting up to his face and searching his expression. You’re not sure what you expect to find there— despite his reassurance, part of you is convinced that he’s not going to like what he sees. The way his pupils dilate would suggest otherwise.

“Fuck,” he groans, reaching out with his free hand. He stops just before his fingers make contact with you. “Can I?”

You nod, whining as he brushes his thumb over the soaked fabric of your panties. Though you’re no longer right on the edge of your orgasm, you can still feel its pressure in your abdomen. Whatever you’d been doing in your sleep must’ve gotten you seriously riled up.

“So sensitive,” Gojo murmurs, tracing around the outline of your clit. His slender index finger hooks around your underwear, pulling it to the side. “And so pretty too. God, you really are wet, aren’t you?”

Your reply is lost as he begins touching you in earnest, his keen eyes taking in all your little reactions and adjusting his motions to match. Soon you’re coming apart at the seams, trying your best to keep yourself quiet and failing miserably. Your increasingly shrill noises seem too loud in the empty common room, but as soon as Gojo slips a finger inside of you your mind goes blank and any concerns about the public setting fall away. His thumb works at your clit in quick, tight circles.

“Gojo, I—“ Your hands shoot out, locking around his forearm in your desperation to find something to cling to.

His pace doesn’t falter even as he adds another finger. “You gonna cum for me, pretty girl? Gonna make a mess all over my lap?”

Nodding, you squeeze your eyes shut as the wave inside you finally crests, biting your lip to muffle your cries of his name as you cum. Your orgasm hits you hard, your body clenching down around Gojo in a way that draws a few choice curses from his lips. He works you through your high, filling the room with slick, rhythmic noises that would’ve embarrassed you had your mind not been otherwise occupied. As the pleasure begins to fade Gojo withdraws, bringing his fingers to his lips and tasting you. Panting, you let the hand on your back guide you forward until you’re slumped against his chest, his strong arms wrapping around you.

“You did so well,” he murmurs, giving you a little squeeze. You feel his lips press against your temple, lingering for a long moment before he pulls away. As you open your mouth to reply, the unmistakable sound of a door slamming cuts through the quiet air. Both of you tense, Gojo’s hands tightening again.

“Shit,” he mutters under his breath. “I guess they’re back early.”

You try to sit up as you had after your nap, but once again his grip is too strong.

“Hey, calm down. I’ve got you.”

“What if they heard us?” you hiss, craning to get a better look down the hallway.

“They didn’t,” he says, and though part of you wants to question this, the authority in his voice calms you. “And before you ask, they won’t see us either.”

There’s a rush of wind and Gojo shifts underneath you, sprawling flat on his back. With a noise of surprise you collapse on top of him, startled by this sudden change in position, and are confused to see that the common room has shifted into the inside of one of the student dorms.

“You warped us?”

“Being the strongest has its perks.”

Laying there in his arms, safe and warm, you realize just how sleepy you are despite having woken up from your nap less than an hour ago. Gojo seems to pick up on this, though you’re not sure how.

“Tired again?” he asks, stroking your hair.

“No, I’m fine.”

Shaking his head, he gives your forehead another flick. This one is much lighter, and he tilts his chin so that he can press his lips to the spot immediately afterwards.

“You’re a terrible liar, you know that? Go back to sleep. I’ll wake you up for dinner.”

“But you haven’t even gotten to cum yet. That doesn’t seem fair.”

Pushing back so that you’re straddling him, you roll your hips experimentally and watch with satisfaction as the corner of his mouth twitches. You can still feel how hard he is beneath you, his erection digging into your inner thigh.

“Another time,” he says firmly, speaking more to himself than to you. “For now, just give me a kiss and we’ll call it even.”

A kiss. Somehow that’s what flusters you more than anything else he’s suggested so far. He’s already kissed you a few times, though you’re not sure if those really count since they weren’t on your mouth. Your eyes fall to his lips, studying them for a moment. Like everything else about Gojo, they’re pretty to an unimaginable degree. Leaning forwards, you plant your hands on either side of his shoulders, your palms sinking into the soft fabric of his pillows.

He doesn’t rush you as you close the gap between the two of you. For once there are no games or teasing, and he kisses you sweetly as his hand moves to cup the back of your neck. You can’t meet his eyes when you pull away, instead returning to your default position and resting your head on his shoulder.

“Thanks,” he says with a contented sigh. “That was perfect.”

[rinstrumental]

all the wrong places

zutara

# not proofread, part 2 here

part one - disclosure

The night air was still. The only sounds in the vicinity were the lapping of the waves against the shore and crackling of the bonfire that had been going since sunset. The flames flickered in the reflection of Katara’s pupils, her gaze focused as she threw branch after branch into the blaze.

Zuko watched her hands carefully. At times they danced a little too close to the fire, ash and fire licking at her scarred fingers.

“You don’t have to do that. It’s a nice night,” he said. It was the first time anyone had talked in a half hour, his slightly hoarse voice cutting through the tranquil night.

Without looking away from her self-assigned chore, Katara replied. “Toph gets cold easily.” As if on cue, the girl dozing behind her rolled over and began to snore.

The two of them were the only ones left awake, their companions scattered around them and sleeping like logs. The usual palpable, awkward silence that came when they were the only two people in the room was as apparent as ever.

Zuko couldn’t bear it. Just being around Katara already made him anxious. Not that she was an unpleasant person, but there was just something about Katara that made Zuko desperate to prove himself. Despite her forgiveness, every time he thought of Katara (often), all he saw was an intangible spider web of betrayal, his feelings, her feelings, their convoluted past and possibly somethingmore. What did she think of him? He wished he had the courage to ask.

“What was it like, coming here?” This time Katara was the first to speak, yanking Zuko out of his thoughts. “As a kid, with your family and everything.”

He winced. Not wanting to have to think about his family, Zuko tried steering the conversation in a different direction. “It wasn’t just my family. Sometimes Mai and Ty Lee would come along too.”

Katara finally looked up to meet Zuko’s eyes, waiting for him to continue.

“It was fine, I guess. Azula kept them occupied most of the time. I just spent time with my parents. But at night, we would sneak out of our rooms to ‘play’. At Azula’s behest.”

The girl sitting opposite him finally cracked a smile. “She’s always been the one bossing you around, isn’t it?”

“Just like you with Sokka,” Zuko chuckled. Katara pulled a face.

“What games would you guys play?”

“Stupid games, if you can even call them that. Gymnastics competitions, dress-up, fire flake eating challenges,” Zuko muttered, deep in thought. “Sometimes truth or dare...”

“Well,” Katara sighed. “Since we’re both still awake with nothing better to do, maybe we could play one of those games.”

“What, dress up? Now?”

“Of course not!” She crossed her arms, laughing. “Do you see a catwalk and closet filled with royal Fire Nation attire anywhere around here? I meant something like truth or dare.”

“Alright. try me.” Katara’s laugh felt like liquid courage, flowing through Zuko’s veins, lifting him up high. He could do anything.

“Truth or dare?”

“Dare.”

“Go into the ocean. I want to see you completely soaked when you come out.”

Zuko eyed the midnight blue sea, already anticipating the bone-deep chill. But a dare is a dare, right?

He pulled his shirt off over his head, dumping it in the sand. Before Katara could react, Zuko was running towards the waves.

“Wait, I was kidding, but are you actually gonna do it?” she shouted in disbelief. As she watched him get closer to the water, Katara finally grabbed a cloth and chased after him, maybe against her better judgment.

She heard it before she saw it. A loud splash, followed by a yell. “Fuck, it’s freezing!”

“I was kidding,” she repeated breathlessly, throwing the makeshift towel over Zuko’s head. “What if you get sick or something now?”

Zuko pulled the cloth aside to thank Katara, and was surprised to see the look of pure worry on her face. Well, maybe annoyance, too. But was she actually concerned about his well being?

“You can’t get sick just before Sozin’s Comet, that was so stupid of me!”

Oh, right, Zuko remembered. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t a little disappointed, suddenly remembering the hard-hitting reality of the circumstances that brought them here in the first place. “I’ll be fine, I’ll just get back to the fire and dry off. I promise I won’t get sick.”

Katara’s furrowed eyebrows relaxed. “Okay, I shouldn’t get stressed over small things like this. Keeping our composure is the most important thing we can do right now.” Zuko nodded in agreement.

The both of them settled down next to the bonfire again - this time next to each other, Zuko couldn’t help but notice. He leaned towards the heat, sighing in relief. He felt a bundle of fabric drop in his lap, recognising it as his top when he looked down. All of a sudden Zuko was hyper aware of his lack of clothing. Katara laughed when she noticed the blush rise on his face.

“Sorry,” he mumbled bashfully as he hastily pulled the shirt back on. “Forgot about that.”

The silence took over again, but this time it felt more comfortable. Like falling asleep under a big blanket after a long shower. Zuko looked down. Katara’s knee leaned against his own, her hand brushing carelessly against his whenever she reached for the pile of branches again. The fire was still going.

“Truth or dare?”

Katara didn’t miss a beat. “Truth.” He swore he could hear the smile in her voice.

“What’s your most embarrassing secret?” Oh my God, she’s going to think that was weird.

She laughed again, a beautiful, resonating sound. “I didn’t think we were going to get personal.”

He shrugged. “I mean, you did make me run into the sea in the middle of the night.”

“I told you that you didn’t have to do it, you didn’t listen, and now you’re putting the blame on me? You’re unbelievable.”

“Okay, fine. Secret for a secret.” Zuko turned to face Katara, his expression serious.

“Now you’ve got me interested. You go first.” She smirked smugly, resting her chin in her hand. “What kind of terrible, humiliating life story does the almighty prince of the Fire Nation have to tell me?”

“Um… do you remember what I told you just now? About the… games I’d play with my sister and her friends?”

“Sure.”

“Er… I�� was the one getting dressed up.”

“Are you kidding me?” Katara exclaimed. “Tell me something I didn’t know!”

Zuko felt the heat return to his cheeks. “How’d you know?”

“Come on, I have a brother too. We all know ‘dress-up’ means putting the only boy around in a skirt and doing his hair!”

Zuko couldn’t help but begin to laugh as he recounted how he had worn Azula’s dresses as Mai smeared makeup on his face and Ty Lee braided his hair, the three of them giggling hysterically the whole time.

“I think that might be the first time I’ve heard you really laugh,” was all Katara had to say when Zuko had finished talking. The smug smile on her face had shifted to something more genuine, like she was actually enjoying listening to him ramble on and on. Zuko’s heart skipped at the thought.

“Ah, well, your turn now,” he said quickly, changing the subject again.

“For the record, I think that was a lame ass secret,” Katara sighed, sitting up straight. “But what I’m about to tell you absolutely cannot be known by anyone else. Especially Sokka.”

Zuko couldn’t help but feel nervous as the stern look returned to Katara’s face, her intense stare boring holes into his skull. What was this, a murder confession?

“I lied about kissing Jet that one time. I lied about having my first kiss to rub it in Sokka’s face.”

He didn’t know what to say. What should anyone say to that? “Oh.”

Katara groaned and turned away from him, flustered. “It’s so stupid, I know. But it’s really my most embarrassing secret. I don’t even really know why I’m telling you this, I guess I trust that you won’t tell Sokka. You probably don’t even get it! You’re the older brother, you wouldn’t understand why I’d even lie about something so trivial- shit, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have mentioned th-”

Zuko gently squeezed Katara’s shoulder, bringing her breathless rant to an abrupt stop. “Katara, it’s okay. I won’t tell Sokka or anything, because who you’ve kissed or whatever is none of my business. But I do get it, the whole competition thing.”

“Of course you do. Sorry, it was just stupid of me to bring it up.”

“It’s okay.”

This time, the silence was thick and heavy. Zuko’s hand on Katara’s shoulder, their knees leaning against each other, the general closeness of their bodies - he was suddenly made aware of it all. He could hear her shallow breaths and his own heart thumping against his ribs.

“I… felt like I had to prove myself. To you.”

“What?”

“That’s why I took on your dare. Even though I hate the cold, and I’m scared of the ocean at night.”

“Ah.”

“I’ll never forget how I left you… all… in Ba Sing Se. And I don’t think you ever will either, even after we went after Yon Rha and everything. I know that was just one stupid dare that didn’t mean anything, and I know my betrayal was so much bigger than that, but… I think I just wanted to say that I’m still willing to do anything if that means I can show that I’ve changed for the better. For the sake of the world, for Aang. For you.”

“…I see.”

“…Agh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to dump that on you.”

“No, no. That means a lot, Zuko. Thank you for telling me that.”

A breeze swept the beach. The bonfire cried out in protest, doubling over in the wind and eventually dying out.

A flame formed in Zuko’s hand, and he held it out in between him and Katara to share.

It was warmer than the bonfire ever could’ve been.

[lilacpaperbird]

no one asked but here is a list of my favorite samdean fics, in no particular order:

streams and side alleys - thecapn

- Summary: AU. Dean grows up in the backseat of a 1967 Chevy Impala. Sam grows up in foster care.

- 55,205 words

- Okay I lied I said this list had no particular order but this is actually my favorite samdean fic. I can't even put into words why. Just thinking about it makes me emotional. Beautifully written.

- Link

Buy You a Mockingbird - candle_beck

- Summary: A genuine horror story.

- 10,272 words

- A four words long summary and no tags. I don't want to say much because going in blind is the best thing you can do. Outsider's point of view. Incredibly well written. One of those fics I'll never forget

- Link

Pine Sweat - applecrumbledore

- Summary: Sam watched Dean hack up firewood with his hatchet. The magically-induced heat wave had his shirt soaked with sweat.

“Did you ever have a, uh… experimental phase?” Sam smacked his lips, trying to think of a diplomatic way to phrase it. “That kid—by which I mean you—has been staring. At me. Kind of a lot.”

(Sam and Dean get sent back to 1996 and go on a hunt with their teenaged selves. The kids don't know who they are.)

- 105,325 words

- I mean if you haven't read anything by applecrumbledore yet what are you doing with your life ! This fic was so much fun to read, I was completely hooked from the very beginning. The angst, the smut, the characterizations... soo good. I'll re-read it soon

- Link

Series: Drywall Dust, Talk Aroud It, & Nothing Ruined - applecrumbledore

- Summaries:

1. Drywall Dust: "Did you fuck my math teacher?" Sam hissed. Dean raised his eyebrows. "I'm gonna need you to be more specific."

2. Talk Around it: “It’s just a truth spell,” Sam tried. “It could be worse.” Dean looked at him like he was stupid.

“Yeah, thank God we don’t have a giant, life-ruining secret that we really, really don’t want our dad knowing. Good thing he’s not on his way here right this second.” He scoffed. “Could be worse. Jesus. Good to know you can still lie.”

3. Nothing Ruined: Sam told Dean about Stanford on a freezing Saturday morning in February, curled together under the blankets on a pullout bed in a flea-bitten apartment in northern Montana, when John was three weeks and half a country away.

- 40.923 words in total

- I laughed I cried and I adored the smut what else could you ask for. Again, anything this author writes is soooo good! [*there's a fourth part in this series but I personally prefer to see it as a trilogy and the last part as a separate fic]

- Link

Brittle - thecapn

- Summary: Sam Winchester has an eating disorder.

- 30,027 words

- If you like to read about sam having an ed this is the fic for you. Ofc keep in mind the triggering potential of this topic as it is a central part of the story. Very sad but it has a happy hopeful ending. The story starts when they're younger, pre-series (pining!sam but no weecest) and then spans over several seasons. There's a really short second part that's so good too

- Link

The Last Outpost of All That Is - gekizetsu

- Summary: The world is over, and it’s a Winchester’s lot in life to cope with anything – no matter what.

- 59,037 words

- If you like stories about apocalyptic situations that focus on how the characters manage to survive and reconstruct their lives you'll love this. I was literally glued to this fic from beginning to end. So so so good

- Link

The Ballad of the Invisible Boy - dollylux

- Summary: This is a story of adolescence. This is a love letter for the slow burn, for Led Zeppelin, for the 90s. This is the first of two sets of stories about how Sam and Dean didn’t fall in love. They never had to. It was always there, this desperation between them, like a real, breathing thing. When they came together, it was inevitable. As sure as continents colliding, as the phases of the moon and the life and death of stars. This isn’t a love story, but it’s a story of love.

- 57,490 words

- I mean. What can I say about TBOTIB that hasn't been said already. A classic. Life-altering. [The second part (Two-Headed Boy – 205,783 words) is extremely good too]

- Link

[sickfics-for-days]

Oversleeping (And other cardinal sins)

They’d been caught out in the open, the storm rolling in suddenly without warning. Grog, bless him, had tried to shield them from the worst of the wind, but there was nothing to be done about the driving rain. In no time, everyone was soaked through. By the time they stumbled into the next town, their feet were covered in mud, all their supplies were swimming in their packs, and the only thing anyone could think of was getting warm and dry.

Understandably, the small roadside inn was packed with other travelers in a similar position, so they had to share two rooms among themselves. Pike and Scanlan chose to room with Grog, leaving Percy with the three half-elves. Each room only had two beds, so naturally the twins agreed to share theirs, while Percy allowed Keyleth the remaining bed and laid his bedroll by the fireplace in an attempt to dry it while they got food.

The food was warm, and while that was about all that could be said about it, the group was too tired to really care. Their spare clothes had been laid out to dry, but for now they were stuck being wet and muddy. Before long, they began trickling back up to their rooms, with Keyleth and Percy leaving first. Neither said much, and soon both were fast asleep. Neither so much as stirred when the twins came in, completely dead to the world.

The next morning, everyone was slow to get moving. The sky outside their windows was still gray and overcast, humidity hanging thick in the air. The clothes by the glowing coals seemed to be dray at least, so getting dressed wasn’t wholly depressing. However, as everyone gathered for breakfast, they realized that they were missing one person.

“Where’s Percy?” Pike asked.

“Still asleep,” Vas shrugged. “Didn’t care to deal with a ruffled noble if I tried to wake him.”

“He’d better wake up soon.” Vex commented. “I, for one, would like to get out of here and to someplace where we can actually dry out. I feel like a wet cat.”

Once everyone had finished and there was still no sign of Percy, Vax stood up. “Enough is enough. I’m going to get him.”

Ten minutes later, Vax strode back into the dining area, half-dragging a stumbling Percy, who was still trying to button his shirt.

“Found him,” he said curtly. “And,” he glanced over, “since Percy here found sleeping to be so much more important than the rest of us, he can settle up.”

Percy straightened, looking around to see if anyone disagreed with Vax’s statement. Seeing nothing but annoyance on everyone’s faces, he sighed, hiked his clumsily packed bag higher, and went to settle the tab.

Percy was not having a good day. He’d spent the night sleeping fitfully, the hard floor leaving his muscles aching, and alternating between overheating too close to the fire and freezing once he rolled away. It was no surprise he’d overslept, waking to a foot pushing firmly into the aching muscles between his shoulder blades, and an annoyed, “Time to get up, your highness. We don’t all have the day to sleep away.”

He'd packed quickly, still half asleep. As he’d stumbled on button his shirt, Vax had reached the end of his patience. He’d shoved the packed bag at him before abruptly pulling him downstairs where the others had been waiting. Their displeasure had been apparent, and he quickly paid for their stay in order to not delay their departure any longer.

Now it was midmorning, and part of his brain still felt asleep, wrapped in an exhausted fog. It hadn’t taken long for him to fall to the back of the group, though he was doing his best not to fall far enough behind that the others would feel obliged to stop and wait for him to catch up. However, even that pace had his heart racing, legs uncharacteristically uncoordinated. It felt like he had tripped over every dip in the road, and he could only be grateful they were on an open stretch of road. Walking through the forest, he surely would’ve fallen many times by now.

A few more hours passed in a haze of watching the path, the reacting too slowly and tripping over the obstacle anyway. Once he had actually fallen, hitting his knees hard and barely catching himself with his hands. For a long minute he had debated whether getting up was worth the effort. His heart was pounding, underlying the ringing in his ears as his vision grayed at the edges. After several deep breaths, he finally mustered both the strength and the will to get up and continue on. The others were far ahead at this point, so no one had noticed the mishap.

As the sun reached its peak, Percy found himself sweating under his still-damp shirt and overcoat. He tugged at his collar, trying to relieve the oppressive heat, but with little success. Surely they would stop soon for a meal? Though, it was possible with their late start that they would simply press on until nightfall. It was just as well, just the thought of trying to choke down their trail rations made his stomach roll. Where were they even headed? He had a vague notion of taking some kind of job, perhaps bounty hunting? But, for the life of him he could not remember if they were heading out or had already completed the task and were returning home. He hoped they were going home. His legs ached from the repeated stumbles and trips he had caught himself on, and the oppressive heat made his lungs feel as if they couldn’t quite get enough air. Perhaps, if he could catch up to the others, they might agree to a short break.

We don’t all have the day to sleep away.

Vax’s voice echoed in his mind. Right, of course. They all had things to do, responsibilities to attend to. No need to delay any further on his account. Looking up, he could just see Grog’s head disappearing behind the next hill. Immediately, his distraction was punished as he tripped over his own feet, barely keeping himself upright.

The sun was low in the sky, and Percy had long since lost track of time. Now when he tripped, he almost always ended up on the ground. Each time it became increasingly harder to convince himself to get back up, but Vax’s mocking annoyance had always spurred him on. His world was now just one foot in front of the other. Grass, stone, dirt, and pain. His muscles had only locked up more with each progressive fall, and the sweat that had drenched him all day now made him shiver in the cool of the evening. As his foot caught once more on seemingly nothing, he braced himself for the now-familiar impact. This time though, his arms buckled under his weight, and he collapsed into the dirt. The ground rocked slightly underneath him, and the relief of the weight being taken off his aching legs made the hard ground feel better than the softest mattress the realm had to offer. Without meaning to, he closed his eyes and drifted into welcoming darkness.

He woke to someone shaking his shoulder, but what he first noticed was the bone-chilling cold. His body shook, hard and painful on his abused muscles, but it didn’t change the feeling of ice forming inside him. Desperately, he curled tighter, grasping at the lapels of his jacket to try and pull it closer. Someone shook his shoulder again, making as if to pull him upright.

“…got to get up.” He heard from far away.

Images flashed through his mind of Vax’s annoyance, hurried packing, and being pulled… The hand grabbed his arm, and he shot up, scrambling backward even as the unfolded position caused him to shiver harder.

“I’m up, I’m coming!” He tried to reassure Vax. “No need to pull me around, I’m on my way.”

His arms gave out from under him as he tried to stand, but after a few tries he managed to gain his feet. Immediately, he looked around for his pack, but it was difficult to see through the black spots covering his vision. He found himself back on the ground, palms and wrists aching from an impact he did not remember. Hands were back on his shoulders, and he weakly tried to dislodge them, shivers making coordination difficult. “No, no pulling. I’m coming, I swear.”

“…easy darling…want to help.” The voice the he could barely make out over the heartbeat thudding in his ears was gentler than Vax’s had been. And, it didn’t sound angry? Blinking hard, Percy looked up, eyes catching on a familiar blue feather.

“…Vex?” he asked weakly.

Then from behind her he saw Vax, face angry, reaching for him. Flinching, he tried to scramble backwards again, only for his wrists to give out, landing him flat on his back. The world spun nauseatingly around him, making it difficult to tell which way was up.

“Please,” he whimpered. “I-I’m coming, I just… just need…”

The darkness took him before he could figure out what it was exactly that he needed.

He woke in his own bed, shoving the blankets to try and escape the sweltering heat. In doing so, a wet cloth fell off his forehead, landing on the floor. It was then that he noticed the others, all asleep in various places around the room or in the doorway. Directly in front of him, face lined with exhaustion, was Vax, head resting in his hand as he balanced precariously on a stool.

“Vax?” Percy rasped, surprised to find his voice mostly gone.

“It’s alright,” Vax recited, exhaustion lacing his words. “We’re not going anywhere, you can rest.”

“What? What’s going on? How did I get here?” Percy moved to sit up, biting back a hiss of pain when his shoulders and wrists protested.

At that, Vax sat up, looking him over. “Percy?” he asked cautiously. “Are you with me now?”

“Err, yes? At least, it seems that way.” Percy replied, more confused than ever.

Vax slumped forward in relief, laying his head on the mattress. “Thank the heavens. Weren’t sure for a while there is you were gonna make it.”

A few minutes passed, and Percy wasn’t sure that Vax hadn’t just fallen asleep on the spot, but then he straightened back up. Resting the back of his hand briefly against Percy’s cheek, he stood up. “Here, let me get you some water. Your fever still hasn’t broken yet.”

On his way out of the room, he tapped Keyleth lightly on the shoulder. “He’s awake. Can you sit with him while I get a glass of water?”

Keyleth sat up quickly, instantly alert. “He’s awake?” She picked her way over to the bed, careful not to step on Scanlan sleeping on the floor, and plopped down on the recently vacated stool.

“Percy! It’s nice to see you awake. Well, you’ve been awake before, but nice that you recognize us now,” she babbled.

Percy winced as the words tumbling over themselves fuled a headache he hadn’t fully registered that he had. “Easy, slow down,” he croaked.

“Right, sorry.” Keyleth took a deep breath, visibly calming herself down.

As a comfortable silence settled between them, Percy shifted to lay back down. Even sitting up was exhausting. “What happened?” he asked, closing his eyes.

“Well, what do you remember?” He felt the mattress dip as Keyleth leaned on it.

Percy tried to think. “I remember oversleeping. We all set out, and I fell behind. I think..” he wrinkled his forehead, chasing foggy memories. “I… fell?”

“Yeah,” she confirmed, voice suddenly hesitant in a way that made him open his eyes again. She fiddled nervously with her hair as she continued. “We did let you fall behind. I swear I didn’t think you were that far! We were annoyed that you slept in at the beginning, and then the sun came out and it was such a nice day, and Vex really wanted to get back and dry our stuff…” She paused, looking down at the floor. “By the time we got to the city gates, we realized no one had seen you all afternoon. Vex took Trinket to go see where you were. She found you curled up next to the road, burning up with a fever. You didn’t recognize her or anything. Trinket carried you home, and we’ve all been taking turns trying to bring your fever down.”

Percy wanted to reach out, to comfort his obviously distraught friend, but all he could manage was to rest his hand over hers. Blinking heavily through the exhaustion that was quickly pulling him under, he managed to slur, “I’m sure…you did…your best.”

The next time he woke, things were difficult to make sense of. One minute he swore he was back on the ground, desperately trying to summon the strength to get back up. The next, someone was shaking his shoulders, Vax’s voice telling him to stop being so lazy, it was time to go. He tried to get up, he really did, but each movement made all his muscles thrum in agony, arms and wrists refusing to take his weight. The sun beat down, burning him from the inside out. He didn’t want to be left out here for the scavengers to find and tear at his flesh. He felt helpless, unable to stop himself from calling out to his friends, begging them not to leave him behind. However, there was nothing he could do as they disappeared into the darkness without so much as looking back.

Something cold and wet on his face woke him. Every muscles ached, and the idea of moving was daunting as exhaustion threatened to pull him back into sleep. Then he felt a drop of water run down the side of his face and into his ear. He tried to ignore it, but as another two drops followed the same path, beginning a puddle, he was forced to roll over, dislodging  the cloth, to rub the water away.

“Percy?” Grog’s voice rumbled, soft as Percy had ever heard it. “You awake?”

Still not wanting to open his eyes, Percy hummed non-committally.

“Well if you are,” Grog continued. “I’ve got some water here you’re supposed to drink.”

Thinking about it, Percy realized that his throat was painfully dry. It took a minute, but he summoned the energy to both open his eyes and attempt to sit up. His arms failed him pretty quickly, but Grog’s strong hand slipped behind him, helping support him. Before Percy knew it, he had been propped up on several pillows and was being handed a glass of water. His hand shook, but he managed several small sips, relishing the coolness against his throat. After a few more, the water began sitting heavily on his stomach, so he handed it back to Grog.

“Do you need anything?” he asked, setting it down on the ground.

“Not right now.” Percy’s eyes slid closed. “I didn’t know you had a bedside manner.”

“Well yeah,” Grog adjusted the pillows back down, carefully lowering Percy with them. “Pop Pop and Pikey would sick sometimes, and I helped out until they got better.”

With that mental image, Percy slipped into a rest that was finally peaceful and dreamless.

Next time he woke, Vax was back on the stool. There were still deep shadows under his eyes, but overall he looked better than the last time Percy had seen him. Eventually he looked up, meeting Percy’s sleepy gaze.

“You’re awake,” he stated, sounding almost resigned.

“Somewhat,” Percy agreed, too comfortable to want to move.

“Look,” Vax began, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m sorry about how I treated you, back at the inn. It’s not like you to oversleep, and I should’ve checked on you.”

More awake now, Percy pushed himself upright, noting that his muscles didn’t ache the way they had been. “It’s quite alright. Everyone was in poor spirits that morning. I can’t say that in your position I wouldn’t have done the same.”

“No hard feelings then?” Vax asked, surprised.

“Not from me,” Percy confirmed. “Though, if you really wanted to do something to make up for it, I could do with a sandwich.”

As if to punctuate the statement, he stomach growled loudly, causing Vax to crack a tired smile.

“Well, your fever’s broken, so I’d say some food is well past due. Hold tight, and I’ll be back with that sandwich.”

[mmushroomwriter]

Ostrich x gn Mc

“It’s so cold, you should hold my hand, so it doesn’t freeze.” “I’m not that cold, I can give you my gloves if you want.”

Please

So I actually wrote this months ago, but completely forgot to post it. Reading it back, I'm actually really happy with it. So apologies for how late it is, but here you go!

This isn't set at any particular point (as in its not exactly pre- or post- book, maybe even closer to an au where the story doesn't happen? idk). Set in the crushing stage for both.

Under the cut for length

(also I love Ostrich instead of Osric. Auto-correct can be very annoying, but very funny. At least three people definitely have him saved as ostrich in their phones).

Ancia is always at its prettiest when it snows.

A layer of white coats the streets and the roofs of buildings, hiding the everpresent grime that coats the city for at least a month. The sky takes on an almost otherworldly purple glow - maybe the only times in your entire life of living in Ancia when you see the sky as anything other than a polluted grey.

It's almost impossible not to fall in love with the city in winter.

Small white flakes drift slowly in the air, completely aimless without a breeze around to guide them. Usually, at such a time it would be too dark to see so many of them, even with the dim orange glow of streetlights, but the sky is illuminated with the light of the full moon - even if the moon itself is not visible behind a wall of clouds.

It's late. No way that it's before midnight, evidence of that being right next to you in the form of Osric Jalava walking home.

That man does not leave a venue before midnight, it's somehow impossible.

You’re pretty sure he’s fully lost his mind, as despite the temperature, he’s dressed pretty much as he always is.

That is truly the one downside to winters in the city - the temperature. Because holy fuck, it's cold. You’re wrapped up in too many layers to count, a full ski jacket on top of jumpers on top of long-sleeve-shirts, with a scarf, hat and snow boots on top of all that. And here this idiot is with nothing more than jeans, a t-shirt covered by a thin pull-over, converse (that are utterly soaked through by this point) and a pair of gloves. And he isn’t even shivering.

For as long as you’ve known Osric he somehow seemed impervious to the cold, but this seemed like a bit much even for him.

The two of you walk silently back to his apartment, as it's a good amount closer to the bar than yours. It isn’t an awkward silence though, it isn’t as though neither of you can think of something to say, it just somehow feels wrong to disturb the night. It's a rare occasion for any street in Ancia to be quiet, especially in Greenplane, but it seems as though the cold has even the hardiest of partiers in bed tonight.

Osric reaches into his back pocket, grabbing out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. He places one in his mouth before turning the box to you, tilting it slightly in offering. You consider it for a moment, the warmth would definitely be welcome right about now, but in the end shake your head. He simply shrugs and lights his own before shoving both items back into his pockets.

It's crisp enough that every exhale already comes out looking like a puff of smoke, but now the smell of tobacco mixes with the smell of the air that always comes with winter, the one that is indescribable except for simply the smell of cold.

It’s oddly comforting, you find. It's not the smell of cigarette smoke anymore you suppose, now it’s just the smell of him.

You look at him walking next to you, his eyes ahead but not focusing on anything in particular.

It’s at moments like these that you can’t help but appreciate how pretty he is. With his face basking in the weird mix of purple and orange light and flakes of snow landing on his face like freckles. His hair is a mess (though to be fair, you don’t think you’ve ever seen it not a mess). It’s grown out slightly longer than usual and you know the way it keeps falling in front of his eyes is annoying him - but you also know he won’t be quite bothered enough to do anything about it for probably another month. His lips are ever so slightly curved up into a relaxed smirk, which you’ve come to find is his default expression. You’re not quite sure why it is, but you certainly get why people often think he’s somewhat of a smug bastard before getting to know him. That’s not to say that it’s an entirely inaccurate presumption - he’s certainly a bastard, but he’s not smug, not really… well, maybe sometimes, but no more than your average person. Most of the time it’s an act, inauthentic - a comedic bit that he does for himself that he’s become slightly too good at.

As though he can hear you thinking about him, he turns to look at you, sending you a much more genuine smile. You attempt to smile back, but your chattering teeth make it look a little more like an odd grimace, making him chuckle.

“It’s cold as absolute shit out here.” He tries to say it nonchalantly, turning his eyes back in front of him to avoid yours. He comes to a stop causing you to do the same.

You send him a questioning look, but he doesn’t see it. Instead he looks at his hands intently, as though he’s having a mental argument with them, before pulling off his gloves and holding them out towards you.

You hesitate for a second, causing him to look up. You realise with surprise that he actually looks bashful. It’s strange, as you don’t think you’ve ever seen him look anything other than confident.

“Aren’t you freezing?” you ask, concerned but very tempted to accept the offer.

He shrugs, “I’m not that cold. I’m happy to give you my gloves… you know, if you want.”

You nod, and out of the corner of your eye, you see him grin as you pull them on.

You go to start walking again, but stop as you realise he doesn’t make to follow you.

“Um,” he looks away nervously, an entirely odd sight to see. “Do you wanna, you know…”

He trails off but holds his hand out to you in obvious invitation.

You grin, is the Osric Jalava actually nervous to ask you to hold his hand?

“Just because you’re cold and stuff.” He adds hurriedly. “You know, so you don’t freeze or something.”

He looks at you, trying to keep his face neutral, but his eyes give away just how desperate he is to know if he’s just royally fucked up the situation.

You reach out and grab his hand, causing a relieved smile to break out on his face. You roll your eyes in amusement, this is a man who can unflinchingly ask you to sleep over at his place and share his bed (though calling it a bed is maybe too kind, it’s a blow-up-mattress), but is scared to ask to hold your hand.

“Hmm, yes,” You hum, eyes dancing with a mix of laughter and deep affection. “Thank you for so bravely saving me from freezing.”

He nods effusively, making the snow that had landed on his head fly off.

“You’re welcome.”

And at that, you both start walking once again. Silence once again envelops you, but just as before, it’s not awkward, not even close.

Instead, it’s a warm silence. One that wards off the harsh chill of the winter night, leaving in its wake only the beauty of Ancia in the snow.

[not-your-fucking-kacchan]

Hey,could you do Gaara x fem reader where it’s their first time together, I’m so certain that he and his s/o would nervous blushing messes.😭😍

Have a lovely day 😊

NAHSJDBBDBD nah BC I love gaara sm it actually hurts 😭

They did him so dirty with that haircut tho so he has long hair in this fic <3

Masterlist <3

Gaara x Fem!Reader (NSFW)- First Time

You and Gaara had been together for a while, but had never felt the need to move very fast with your relationship. Though, you do wonder if your stoic boyfriend even has those urges at all sometimes.

He was just waiting for you to be really, truly comfortable with him, is all. You had never really insinuated that you wanted to go any further, and he was absolutely on board with your desicion. He was alright with it if you never wanted to be intimate, and he was alright if you didn't want kids. It was alright. You are much, much more to him than a sex object, and he couldn't stand when the board members would judge him for not rushing to have little heirs as soon as possible.

He did get urges sometimes, like when he walked in on you changing on accident, or when, just this one time, he woke up to you sleeping next to him, completely naked except for his loose shirt. The poor boy nearly fell out of his bed and had to rush straight to the shower. He stayed silent when he next saw you in the kitchen, thankfully wearing pants this time, and only muttered a bashful "uh- thanks..." As you handed him some tea, mildly amused by how adorable he was. How such a viscous fighter, who could and would tear another man in two, could be so cute, you had no clue.

Gaara thought you hadn't been dropping any hints, but obviously, you have. You don't expect him to read your mind, so you give him some subtle, and sometimes very obvious hints. He just doesn't understand them. You greet him in your underwear, and give him a cuddle, and you're met with "oh, are you cold? Here, have my jacket." which is sweet, but you needed him to warm you up in other ways...

You sit in his lap and bite his neck, trying your absolute damnest to seduce him, and he just thinks you're too needy for cuddles to let him do his paperwork in peace. It was starting to annoy you a little, as absolutely adorable as he was, because you knew he wasn't averse to having sex with you. He's just oblivious.

But now you're in the mood again, so you greet him in his office, determined to get some action tonight.

You're dressed in only your prettiest lingerie, in his favourite colour, red, which suits your skin tone beautifully, and a long, fluffy dressing gown to cover up. Your unsuspecting boyfriend looks up from his paperwork at the sound of the door opening, only to greet you with that little smile you fell in love with when he sees you.

"Ready to retreat for the night, dear?"

As if.

The poor boy nearly goes into cardiac arrest when you drop your robe, exposing smooth skin and very obvious cleavage. His eyes widen and slowly his cheeks start to glow more and more red, until your sure there's too much blood behind his cheeks for there to be any in his dick.

"I-... You-..."

"What? Am I not pretty, Gaara?~"

He melts, and as you strut over and straddle his lap, stroking his cheek with the soft skin of your palm, he loses all of his resolve to hold back.

"You're gorgeous..."

It only takes a few seconds for him to break and carry you straight to the bedroom, still blushing up a storm but too worked up to care right now.

His pants are tented with his arousal, and you can feel how soaked your underwear is, clinging to your skin as you wrap your arms around his neck, yelping when he sits you down onto the bed. It's about here where he gets a little confused though, and freezes a little.

You figured this would happen. As horny as the both of you are, it's still your first time. It's a little scary. You're ready to help him out though, and as you pull him in to lay a kiss to your lips, you grasp his hand gently in your own and lead it down to your damp underwear, letting him dip his fingers in. His breath trembles as he reaches lower, feeling around slicked up folds and dipping inside of you with relative ease.

You let out a soft mewl at the feeling of your boyfriend feeling around your walls, curling his fingers and hitting a spot inside of you that shoots electric up your spine. You moan louder, which only encourages him to speed up as he groans and listens close to the delicious sounds he's bringing from you.

He's so painfully hard, and you can tell he's getting fidgety, so you moan out encouragements for him to give you more, and you're rewarded with two more fingers slowly joining the first. Your legs are spread around his waist as he pleasures you, your toes curled and your neck craned back, and when he finally withdraws them, he looks at the juices slicking his fingers and nearly faints, instantly stopping down to nothing and breathing heavier as his flush extends down to his chest. How cute.

His dick is hard and weeping, and he slicks himself up with his fingers, making you stutter on your next breathless words.

"T-the lube- i-it's in the drawer-"

Neither of you think you could do this without lube, but that's alright, since he doesn't plan to, and shyly coats his hand in it, groaning when his rough hand runs over his heated skin.

You stare at him hungrily, aching to have him fill you up. You just feel so empty, so when he readies himself to slip your underwear the the side and press his cock to your throbbing cunt, you practically whine. The redhead ontop of you moans from the intense pleasure of your tight heat sucking him in, and he thrusts slowly while you get used to the stretch, your eyes scrunched shut and your lips parted slightly.

This feeling only gets better when you give him permission to speed up, and he buries one of his hands in your hair and uses the other to hike a leg over his shoulder, fucking the daylights out of you and relishing in the cries you release. The pillows are almost ruined from your tears and your nails tearing at the soft fabric. Apparently he's gotten over his nervousness and has chosen to fuck you silly, scrunching his eyes closed and narrowing his brows as he nears his orgasm, but he doesn't plan to stop until you've came too, and your slick leaks down your legs and back and onto the sheets, he groans and thrusts hard and fast into you, deeper than before as a sudden warmth bursts inside of you, his balls twitching while they empty inside of you.

He still doesn't stop pumping inside of you though, overstimulating himself and aiming directly for you g-spot until your pussy spasms around him, signalling that you've reached your orgasm.

It's a good thing too, since you were damn near shredding his back to confetti. He chuckles softly, his chest vibrating and his shoulders shaking from the joyful exclamation, and he collapsed next to you, cuddling you close and keeping his dick buried deep inside of you.

"Where did that come from, love? Couldn't hold back anymore?"

You scoff at him and playfully whack him in the back of his head, eliciting that closed-eye chuckle from him that has you melting in seconds.

"Well maybe you should've taken the hint a little sooner... You were... It was good though..."

And now the moment is genuine and awkward again, and now he's blushing and so are you, and you hide your face into his chest while you catch your breath, your hand resting on his chest while the two of you fall asleep together.

[poopyballz28]

AHH yay ur ask box is back, I hope your doing well :))

I had this dum idea id think you wouldve liked so yaya; sleeping over at their house/apartment short notice because of heavy down poor like rain or maybe its snowing super hard dinefwjiwn i think it would b cute IDK

WELCOME BACK!! your ideas are always amazing and fill my head with ideas so thank you thank you 🫵💋

Some Baki characters taking you in when you're caught in the rain

Baki

• He was just ready to get into bed when he heard the door. He was praying it wasn't some opponent wanting to fight super late.

• He slid it open to see you covered in water, freezing. He ushers you inside and very quickly gets you a towel to dry off with.

• He swiftly makes something warm for you to drink, and he also whips up some hot food for you have as well. He puts a lot of effort in, really wanting you to enjoy it and be impressed by his cooking.

• He gets you a t-shirt and some pants and when you're done changing, you two sit under his kotatsu, eating and chatting about all sorts of things.

• It's been a long time since he's had someone over with him, he feels really joyful having another person there to keep him company, especially that person being you.

• He probably has a spare futon he pulls out for you. He very slickly places it right next to his.

• He can barely fall asleep. Knowing that you're so close to him in bed makes his heart rate double.

• You'll wake up with his arm reached around you, your two faces incredibly close to each other (he's a messy sleeper)

• When he wakes, he's pretty embarrassed about it and apologizes. If you say you enjoyed his cuddling though, he'll be a bit of a blushing mess. He'll hold you a lot more from then on.

Kozue

• She was reading manga in her room late at night when she heard the echoing knock at the door.

• When she opened it to see you, wet and cold from the heavy rain, she immediately lets you in, the concern showing on her face. She then quickly ushers you to her shower, not wanting you to catch a cold.

• Her night clothes are really cute. She wears an oversized t-shirt with cute hello kitty shorts.

• While you shower, she makes some warm tea and gets you a snack.

• As for spare clothes, she has some more oversized shirts and shorts, so she lends them to you for the night. She doesn't mind you borrowing them anyway.

• You two sit in her room and drink the (super fucking delicious) tea she made. The both of you joke around as she super cutely rambles about the plot of the manga she was reading.

• She actually offers for you to stay the night and she timidly asks if maybe...you could sleep in her bed along with her. Her face is completely red asking. When you say yes though, she's overjoyed (but super nervous about it as well) She really wants to get closer to you.

• The both of you very awkwardly squeeze on her bed, faces almost inches apart. Her face is overcome with a deep blush. She slowly reaches her hand over to you and holds you close to her.

• She'll slowly fall asleep, her legs reaching over onto you, as she hugs you close like a fluffy pillow (she's a bit of a messy sleeper as well)

Katou

• He was kinda pissed hearing a loud knock on his door super late into the night. He wasn't dressed or prepared for company whatsoever. Quite honestly, he was ready to throw hands immediately.

• But when he cracks it open to see you soaking wet in front of his apartment doorway, he doesn't really hesitate to unlock the door for you to come in.

• He's surprisingly a little worried about you, and asks if your alright. He gets you a towel and sits you down at his table. He was drinking before you came in, so he'll offer you a cold one.

• For some spare clothes, he gets you some big t-shirt with a cool design and some knee reaching shorts. That night you realize just how baggy his clothing style is. (soulja boy ass fit 😭)

• He's a bit embarrassed to be seen with so little clothing on. He's wearing an oversized hoodie without any pants on, so of course he's a little embarrassed, especially if you tease him about the silly design on his underwear.

• When you have to stay over for the rest of the night, he hesitates and asks if you really have nowhere else to go for the night. He's incredibly nervous. He's never had anyone spend the night with him, especially someone he really likes like you.

• I bet the two of you would stay up all night playing video games and drinking, maybe showing each other your music playlists. He usually pulls all-nighters by himself, but its much funner with you there.

• You'd probably get tired first and lean your head on his shoulder and drift off. He's completely still and his sweet timid mode really shines through. The two of you eventually end up falling asleep cuddled close to each other on his couch.

Katsumi

• He probably just got home from the dojo super late, and already got a little wet from the rain. He'd be just done with his shower when he hears the doorbell to his apartment.

• He would open up the door (with only a towel covering his waist, mind you) to see you soaking wet and shivering. He would quickly get you inside, not realizing how absolutely exposed he is.

• He's a little embarrassed at first, but he may say some shitty flirtatious comment when he catches you staring at him (couldn't blame you them tiddies are HUGE)

• He would get dressed quickly and do everything he possibly could for you. Food, water, whatever you need he wont hesitate to give it you. When you finish drying off, he'll get you a warm blanket. He really loves giving you attention, especially if you give some back to him.

• He'll lend you some clothes that are definitely a little too big for you. The shirt tends to drift down your shoulder often.

• He lets you chill out on his bed with him as he tells silly stories from the dojo. The two of you laugh and chat throughout the late night. Your smile really lights him up, he thinks it's absolutely beautiful.

• The both of you would be laying down staring up at his ceiling together, as he gently reaches his hand over to yours and squeezes. He doesn't want this time with you to end.

• You both fall asleep talking with each other, your hands still interlocked. Katsumi couldn't be happier.

Kureha

• He usually stays up late reading through medical books or finishing up some papers from work, the heavy rain helping him focus. But he didn't exactly expect a knock on a his door at such a late time of night.

• When he opens to see you soaked, he lets you in and leads you to his shower. He was clearly a bit concerned for you, although him showing concern was a bit rare, you could tell he didn't want you catching a cold.

• He sets out some clothes for you. A big, white button up shirt with the smallest pair of shorts he could find lying around.

• By the time you get out of the shower, you see he's sitting at his bar with two wine glasses in front of him. He waves you over for a drink with him.

• Whenever he's with you, he feels his nerves calm. He feels he could truly speak to you about anything. You're incredibly beloved to him.

• He unties his ponytail and gently takes off his glasses, letting you get a good look at his gentle eyes and beautiful locks flowing down his back. He turns to you and shows you a small smile. You don't see him smile like that too often. You must be pretty special.

• You two spend most of the night chatting and having some more drinks. You never see him relax like he does with you.

• He offers you a side on his bed to sleep on. The way he elegantly takes off his button up for bed is pretty distracting. He's hella pretty.

• He might go in for the kiss and smooch you on the forehead before you two fall asleep. He truly cares about you. He hasn't cared so much about someone since his little brother.

[maevesheart]

it must have been a misunderstanding

AG!Peter Parker x Fem!Reader

Summary: Based off the song “Misunderstanding” by Genesis; Peter completely forgot about the date you two had planned, leaving you all alone in the rain.

WC: 2.2k

TW: angst!!!, blood, cuts, cursing, mentions of violence, etc

—

You hugged the coat closer to your body, trying to get as much protection under the tree as possible.

It was fall, but not deep enough into fall for all the leaves to be gone. The orange and yellow leaves shielded your shivering body from the harsh raindrops that pounded down onto the grass and pavement around you.

You had been standing in the same god-damned park for two hours now, basically given up on the idea that Peter would show up.

It wasn’t like him to miss a date, especially one in the park (his favorite place).

But now that you were thinking about it, he had been blowing you off more often, always having some sort of excuse to sneak away.

“I’ve got to speak to my professor, Y/N”, “Not right now, Y/N/N, I have to study”, “I’ll call you later? Harry just came over”, or, your least favorite, “Sorry babe, Gwen needed help with her Chemistry lab.”.

You loved, but also hated his sweet heart. He wanted to help everyone with everything, but he somehow always found himself prioritizing strangers over his actual heart. You.

—

The rain continued to plummet down, and by this point, your hair was practically soaked, and the thin jacket you had brought was drenched in water, leaving you freezing cold and soaking wet.

You couldn’t believe it. Peter had blown you off.

You checked your almost-dead phone, hoping for a call or text, just to be met with your vacant Lock Screen. No new messages, just a few from your older brother.

Your background melted your heart, before making it freeze over again.

The picture was of you and Peter, his long and lanky, yet somehow toned, arms wrapped around your body. Your head was on his shoulder and smiles covered both of your faces.

The photo was taken by Harry a few years ago, when you and Peter were first talking. Peter asked you out after the picture was taken, and Harry was the first to know. He still claims he was the one that made it happen.

But, as you waited, so cold you could barely feel your fingers, you really weren’t sure how much longer you could be with Peter.

It wasn’t like he was a bad boyfriend, quite the opposite, but he obviously didn’t have the respect or time he once had for you.

You had been alone with your thoughts too long, so you took a long breath in and then stepped out from under the tree.

The rain immediately found you, blurring your vision. You knew the way back home easily though, it was a short walk.

It wasn’t dark out either, which was nice.

You took off the dripping fleece jacket you had brought with you, and put it above your head, making a barrier between you and the icy-cold droplets.

The light t-shirt you had on stuck to your body like glue, and the black jeans resting on your waist became heavy. Your white reeboks sloshed with every step you took, and they were covered in sticky mud from where you were standing under the tree.

Your phone was in the back pocket in your jeans, and had promptly died after you examined the picture of you and Peter.

If anything, this was all his fault.

Not wanting to think about your absent boyfriend, you filled your mind with different things you could make for dinner.

Your apartment was being renovated, so for the time being, you were in your brother’s home with him, his wife, and their two daughters.

You felt so bad for invading their space, so you made dinner for them each night. His wife was a nurse, so she would come home late and be incredibly tired. He was a professor, and taught English at NYU. Their two girls, Esme and Gia, were little angels, and loved spending time with their Auntie Y/N. After all, you were all the family your brother had left except for them.

—

You continued to keep a steady pace as you tried your hardest to avoid puddles, not wanting to slip and land in a pile of growing mud.

This became more and more difficult, and you eventually gave up, stepping in the puddles and letting the water splash up onto your jeans and sneakers.

You sighed and tried to walk a little quicker, realizing how dark it was about to get.

Trying to avoid mud and puddles had extended your journey home, and the pouring rain that clouded your vision didn’t help much either.

You really didn’t want to still be walking home in the pouring rain whilst dark out, knowing your phone was dead, and how worried your family would be.

Suddenly, a sticky substance landed on your wrist, and you were shot up into the air. You screamed, which just ended in rain choking you.

You lost your coat, and you coughed before feeling arms wrap around your waist.

“Let me go!” You screamed kicking the mystery man in the shins. No reaction. “Let me go! Get your arms off me!” You screamed louder, hoping someone would hear you.

You hadn’t even looked around, and once you did, you really wished you hadn’t. You were on top of an apartment building.

Your breath hitched in your throat, and a muffled scream came out.

You didn’t know how you got there, and you didn’t know why you were up there.

The stranger finally let you of you, and you backed away quickly.

He was wearing a red mask and a bodysuit. You squinted your eyes, trying to see past the rain, just to find Spiderman standing across from you.

You screamed at the top of your lungs, you didn’t know why you did, you just did.

Obviously, you were safe with Spiderman, but there was no present danger, so why did he bring you up here?

“Y/N, shh, calm down. Calm down. It’s fine.” He inched closer to you, but you kept backing away, terrified on how this man knew your name.

“H-how do you know my name!” You spoke, and then yelped as he wrapped his arms around you again.

“Stop touching me!”

He let go and stepped back, and you narrowed your eyes at him.

“I want to go back down.” You said sternly, crossing your arms over your chest.

“No.” He mimicked your pose.

You had no idea who was behind the mask, but you did know that you didn’t like them.

“There wasn’t anything dangerous! Please let me down! My brother is going to get so worried,” you continued to plead with him.

“Oh shut up,” he said, putting his hands on his face.

“Don’t tell me to shut up! I want you to-“ your breath got caught in your throat as the mystery man took off his mask, revealing your boyfriend.

Your beautiful boyfriend.

But also the boyfriend that you were extremely mad at.

“Peter Parker!” You screamed running at him and hitting his chest.

“Shhhh!” He urged, trying to keep his identity a secret.

You continued to hit his chest, which he barely felt. “You,” smack, “completely,” smack, “and utterly,” smack, “pompous,” smack, “asshole!” SMACK!

“Ow! Y/N, what the hell?!” He grabbed your wrists, stopping you from hitting him more.

“Why the fuck did you stand me up?!” You yelled at him, before giving a hard shove to his chest (which he didn’t even react to).

He shook his head and furrowed his eyebrows.

“What are you talking about?” He quietly asked.

You couldn’t believe your ears. He had completely forgotten about the date! The first date you two would have had in almost three months!

“Take me to my brothers.” You said through gritted teeth, facing away from him.

“No, Y/N, explain what you just-“

“Are you an idiot or do you just hate me?” You turned around, looking up into his eyes.

Now, you were grateful for the rain. It make your tears blend in.

“Wha- I don’t hate you. Why would you even ask that?” He laughs lightly, and then stops, realizing that you weren’t in the mood for laughing.

“Why didn’t you come? I waited in the rain for almost four hours, Peter.” The tears cascaded down your cheeks. Stop crying. Stop it. You’re strong, Y/N.

“What? I don’t,” he shook his head, trying to rack up an idea, any idea, of why you were waiting for him in the rain.

“Can you please just take me to Eddie’s. I’m tired.” You really just wanted to curl into a ball. Peter didn’t remember. He forgot about you.

Peter shook his head. “Please, just,”

“Peter, please. Later. We can talk later.” A sob escaped your throat, and Peter felt his heart break in two.

“No, please. I’m so sorry, I-“ he tried to apologize, but his thoughts were filled with images of you getting hurt or attacked because he forgot about you.

“Forget it.” You looked down, and Peter didn’t know what to do.

His glove-adorned hands gently lifted your chin up, forcing you to make eye contact with him.

“I’m so sorry.” Hot tears pooled at his eyes, threatening to escape.

“Whatever. I’m done. I just want to sleep.” You sighed, thinking of your warm and dry clothes and bed at Eddie’s house.

“I forgot about our date. It’s not whatever, Y/N. I can’t let myself treat you like this.” He shook his head. “Not now, not ever.”

“Well, you did.” You said, barely above a whisper. You hoped he didn’t hear it, but he did.

His heart snapped, and the tears fell.

“My…my amazing Y/N. I’m so sorry. You could’ve been hurt, you could’ve been attacked, I don’t even… I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if you were hurt and it was my fault because I forgot..”

He continued to ramble, and you shifted your eyes back down, noticing the large gash in his suit.

“Peter, Oh my God…”

He stopped speaking and looked down at you, and immediately realized what you saw.

“It’s not a big deal, really,”

“We’re going to Eddie’s right now, Lara can fix it.”

He smiled and nodded, hoping this meant you weren’t angry with him anymore.

—

You had never been swung before, and the way that you had completely forgotten your boyfriend was Spiderman quickly came back to you.

His left arm was wrapped securely around your waist, and you dug your head into his chest while your arms were wrapped around his neck.

You could hear the webs being shot from his web-shooters, but didn’t dare to look up.

How did he do this all day?

You reached your brothers home in no time. Peter set you down and placed his now free hand onto his gash.

You rushed to the front door and stuck the key in, and twisted. The door unlocked and you pulled Peter into the hallway of the large home.

“Lara!” You yelled, really hoping the girls wouldn’t come down.

“Y/N?” She called back rushing into the hallway and gasping when she saw Peter standing next to you.

Her hands covered her mouth, and she froze. “P-Peter is Spiderman? Peter Parker?”

“Lara, he’s bleeding, a lot.” You pulled him into the kitchen by one of his arms and Lara quickly cleared the island counter, telling him to lay down.

Eddie then came in, alarmed and sweating.

“I heard screaming. Is everyone alright… Oi! Peter?” His face scrunched in curiosity as your lovely boyfriend laid on his kitchen counter half naked and bleeding everywhere.

“What in God’s name happened to you?” He came over to your side, peering onto Peter’s toned stomach.

“Crime fighting.” Peter answered with a strained smile. Your brother nodded before becoming confused again.

“What-“ his question stopped as he saw the Spiderman logo on the ground of his kitchen. Peter must have thrown his suit off…

“You’re SPIDERMAN?!” Eddie yelled, before spewing out more questions.

“How many people do you catch a day, I mean, I can imagine-“

“Eddie.” You stopped him, by placing a hand on his arm. He nodded and sat down at one of the seats at the table.

“Damn. My sisters boyfriend is Spiderman.”

—

Lara stitched his lower torso, and you two ended up on the flat roof of the house.

Peter was stunned, surprised you weren’t angry that he had kept this secret from you for so long.

“You aren’t angry with me?” He lightly smiles, bringing your attention to his face. You let go of the fingers of his you were playing with, and put your warm hands on each of his cheeks.

You smile, “I mean, we all have our secrets. Yours just happens to be a massive secret, but I couldn’t stay mad at you while you stood there with a huge bleeding cut on your stomach.”

He smiles and looks up.

“But don’t forget about me in a rainy park ever again, Peter Parker.”

“Yes ma’am.”

—

[neochan]

[ 5:59 PM ] The smell of alcohol and sweat soaks into his skin and invades his nostrils each time he breathes in. Hot bodies dancing to a shallow top forties playlist press up against him as he makes his way through the thick of the crowd. A hand lands on his hip, tugging him backwards, asking for a dance.

Fuck that.

He wrenches the hand away and continues to push through the bodies of intoxicated college students who were lucky enough to land an invite to one of his parties.

The main living room was huge, big marble pillars dominating the center, rows of tables being used for beer pong, a couple stripper poles with half naked girls twirling around them, and of course the twelve couches set up in a large square.

Johnny sat on the one in the corner, arm slung over a bleach blonde bunny, drink sloshing around his cup, that, at any moment, was sure to tumble out of his hand and splash all over the poor girl’s white shirt.

What a way to get her naked Johnny.

Someone passes a half empty bottle of Patron into Jaemin’s hand. He takes a big gulp, relishing the burn that slides down his throat.

“Where’s Y/N?” his voice is hoarse, strained, and if Johnny had heard him, he showed no signs.

Right when he was going to ask again, Johnny slides his eyes to his, “Your room.” His expression was one of guilt, eyebrows turned up, mouth set in a frown.

Jaemin curses under his breath and turns around, headed for the grand staircase. He passes half drunken couples making out, girls taking endless pictures, frat boys downing as much cheap soju as they could, and the occasional nerd who was there for the experience.

Dark red and purple lights pour over the crowd as he ascends the stairs. It was beautiful, yet a deep exhaustion spreads itself through his body. There weren’t as many people at the top of the staircase, but looking over the crowd, he knew this was going to be a long night. He wanted to go home.

How ironic.

The bottle of Patron in his hand was weighing him down so he takes another swig. “Fuck” he cries out. A tear runs down his cheek, but it’s not from the alcohol. He had walked up to his bedroom door and swung it open, revealing you naked and riding … he couldn’t see the guy’s face, but did it matter? Nothing could compare to this, not even the burn of straight tequila.

“Really Y/N? My fucking bedroom?” you look up and see his face, mouth dropped open in shock.

Jeno’s face pops up from the behind your torso.

Jaemin laughs in awe, “Okay, and with my bestfriend. This is so great. This is actually fucking perfect. Ya know, I didn’t think this night could get any better!” a delirious smile stretches from ear to ear.

You scramble to throw on your dress, forgetting about Jeno, and stumble to run after Jaemin, who had already made it to the bottom of the stairs.

“Please,” you call out, drawing unwanted attention to you, “Please, Jaemin, Wait,”

He swings the front door open and runs out into the yard. You follow after him till he stops at the side of his house, a place completely unoccupied, encompassed by overgrown shrubbery.

“No, Y/N, it’s exactly what it looks like. You’re always saying that you’re going to change but you always seem to end up screwing somebody that isn’t me,” his arms are gesturing wildly, eyes bloodshot, “someone that isn’t your fucking boyfriend.”

Trying desperately to calm him down you say the first thing that comes to mind “I – I didn’t mean to I - ”

“Oh yeah, you accidentally walked to my room and accidentally slipped and fell on his dick accidentally.” He aggressively puts air quotes around the word, ‘accidentally.’

You wanted to cry. You didn’t mean too, really. A couple drink too many and you found yourself making out with Jeno. He started to take off your clothes… and it escalated from there.

“Jaemin” your voice comes out in a whisper.

Tears are streaming down his cheeks, and you’re surprised they aren’t freezing on the spot with how cold it is outside. “Don’t fucking say my name when you’ve been moaning my bestfriends.” His eyes narrow down to slits.

The anger radiating off of him was brutal, there was no way you were going to come back from this. He’d given you so many chances before, so many times to redeem yourself, but you always end up seeking solace in others. It wasn’t your fault he couldn’t give you what you wanted.

“Please, I couldn’t find you anywhere - ”

“So, you end up screwing my bestfriend?” He shouldn’t even be asking the question. This always happens, every weekend, like clockwork, but he always ends up forgiving you. At this point he was setting himself up for heartbreak. “You’re the fucking devil, and I’m the poor angel that follows you around, willing to fall from heaven to be at your side.”

“What?” He was losing you with his poor drunken analogy.

“You’re bad for me Y/N! Can’t you see that?” His voice echoes off the trees and lands dully on your heart.

“I promise to be better, I’m sorry! Please,” this couldn’t be happening, “Please, don’t leave me.”

He’s crouched down now, one hand pressed against the dewy grass – trying to ground himself, the other tightly gripping the bottle of alcohol. “Go away, I just want to be alone.”

Like a shot to your chest, the wind is knocked out of you, almost making you join him in his crouched position.

“We need to fix this!” Even though you always found yourself wanting other guys, Jaemin was dependable. He was the consistency in your mess of infidelity, and you couldn’t lose him, otherwise you’d lose yourself in a downward spiral.

“No, we don’t. I’m finally fucking done with you.”

[nqctar]

pairing: jake sim ୨୧ male!reader / jake sim x male!reader. genre: fluff. word count: 480 words. warnings: no major warnings apply.

[10:20 pm] brisbane, australia

you sat in your living room, clutching a pillow as you waited for the doorbell to ring. your boyfriend, jake, asked you if he could come over but didn't specify the reason why. you assumed it was because he was bored and wanted you to keep him company, but he would've at least told you he was bringing something over like usual. 

so you sat on your couch, anxiously awaiting his arrival. after what felt like an eternity, which was actually only around 20 minutes after he sent you the text, you heard the doorbell and jumped up, looking through the peephole to verify that it was jake. 

you frowned as you saw him shivering where he stood. unlocking the door, he looked at you with the saddest expression you'd ever seen. tears brimmed his eyes as he wrapped his arms around himself for warmth. 

"oh, love," you whispered to him, pulling him inside and shutting the door behind him. jake was completely soaked with rain and looked as if he had walked instead of driven to your house despite the weather. you weren't sure why he was so upset, but it broke your heart. despite his wet clothes, you hugged him tight for about three minutes before pulling away with a kiss on his forehead. he wiped his eyes and mumbled out an "m' freezing." 

you nodded. "let me get you something warm to wear, okay?" he hummed in response as you pulled him towards your bedroom by his freezing hand. now in your room, you picked out a warm set of pajamas for him and then helped him get changed into them. things were silent as you finished by pulling his shirt over his head. after tossing his clothes into an empty laundry basket, you climbed into bed with him and pulled him close to you, jake choosing to rest his head on your chest.

you began playing with his hair after hearing him sniffle again, and then finally asked him why he was upset. "what's wrong, love?" 

"i don't even know, i've been sad all day i guess. just really needed to see you." he hugged himself closer to you and closed his eyes. you pouted as you watched your boyfriend hold back his tears. "that's completely fine. i love having you with me." you giggled as he smiled & wiped away any remaining tears. "let's just stay like this forever." jake said, taking your hand and kissing it. 

"that's fine with me." you kissed his forehead again and began quietly humming a song he liked until he fell asleep. pulling him even closer to you now, you whispered "i love you, baby." to him before closing your eyes and eventually dozing off to sleep.

just the two of you, limbs tangled together in a sea of blankets and pillows. you wouldn't want it any other way.