#am i going to write this? probably not! but brainrot time

[hickeygender]

of all the star wars movies, which of them do y'all 1) enjoy the most 2) consider the best quality and 3) think you've rewatched the most. add your answers in the reblogs or replies, i'm genuinely curious how much of an overlap there is within everyone's three answers. mine don't overlap at all! they're revenge of the sith, empire strikes back, and the force awakens :^)

[moonlight-hwa]

A little bit of a San hard thought…maybe, sort of, kind of (MDNI)

Okay so for some reason Coachella San still has me in a chokehold, almost two months later and I just had to get this off my chest, because this has been on my mind for a while and it’s driving me crazy. Also this will probably be the only time I post something like this, unless I feel very strongly about it.

Looking at these photos that he posted on Instagram, just fills my mind up with thoughts of littering his chest and abs with hickeys.

Like just imagine, you on top of San, straddling him as you sucked at the skin of his chest, all the while San below you -I’d like to imagine that he’s very vocal with this type of intimacy, because we love men who are vocal- is letting out low groans and maybe along with the occasional whine of your name. Maybe he would even buck his hips, especially as you traveled down his toned stomach and got closer to the band of his underwear, because the smallest things you do can get him so worked up.

[dangerous-advantage]

if you’re in the rise fandom and see this:

go read “all the ashes in my wake” by @crows-murder right now.

(yes, that is an order, and yes, pun intended.)

this post serves as a fic rec, but mainly to let me gush about how much i love this fic without filling up the author’s inbox with a small dissertation (/joking).

for the fic rec part:

leo. cursed. ella enchanted type cursed.

if you have any interest at all in absolutely phenomenal angst, clever writing with a style that’s easy to follow and smooth as butter, on-point characterization and dynamics, and basically anything you could ever ask for of a rise fic,

go. read. this. fic. right. now.

(that said, i am now going to ramble about my specific thoughts concerning the fic and it’s plot, so. possible spoilers beyond this point?)

there have been a growing number of fics in this “sub-genre” of the rise fandom involving a character (generally leo) getting cursed, and then facing off against angsty odds that make you go, “oh. oh, shit.” (/positive)

these curses also tend to involve the phases of the moon in some way, which i think is a very fun and interesting trend

i’ve enjoyed all of the fics that i’ve read which fit into this, but this particular fic may be my favorite yet

it follows a simple formula, neatly tying the a plot (the curse stuff) and the b plot (leo’s conflict with leadership and the strain it’s putting on his relationships) into a neat little bow.

while the idea of leo getting “ella enchanted” is fun on its own, it’s doubly important to the plot and the characterization, as it forces him to have to fix one problem to address the other.

in the first chapter, the author constructs the roots to this, by contrasting leo’s wily, independent nature against the inevitable conflict that will stifle his attempts to act on it.

watching him brush his brothers off, make his own choices and go off on his own, builds this wonderful sense of tension. it hooks you — what’s going to happen when that string is cut?

it plays perfectly into the underlying conflict. leo needs to find a way to overcome his fears of leading the team, or else the rift between him and his team will only continue to widen.

so what does the narrative do? it forces him into a position where he is no longer gets to choose.

this incapacitation is a powerful tool, not only because of the external force of the curse, but also that it plays off of the weaknesses of his character.

this isn’t something that he can just handwave, or take care of on his own. it’s a situation where he needs to ask for help.

but this is leo we’re talking about. of course he isn’t going to go to his brothers about this, or even tell them! but by hiding it and trying to fix it himself, he ends up caught in a deadlock of his own making.

and since it doesn’t look like he’s going to get over himself very soon, it seems more likely that he’ll end up cornered in a very sticky situation indeed (something which i am very much looking forward to seeing, if that is the plan).

it’s genius! to fix his problems with the curse, he has to address his issues with his family first.

my attempts to sound smarter than i actually am aside (/lighthearted), i am so glad this fic is addressing the conflict between raph and leo. not only that, but in a way that feels true to their characters.

unlike other iterations of the tmnt, the roles here are reversed. it’s not the stolid abs responsible leader pitted against the broody loner who wants to be leader, but isn’t the right fit.

it’s rise!raph, who cares about his little brother and wants to support him, and rise!leo who, on some level, doubts his own ability in this new role on the team — to be anything more than “the face man.”

it’s not often where you come across a fic where the a plot and the b plot are equally engaging, but this is one of those rare cases where everything just works. it’s like i’m witnessing the first steps of some great machine, meticulously crafted, a hundred disparate parts working in tandem.

in the third chapter, the angst just works. the pay-off there feels so real, because you get it. you relate to this character. when raph is there, waiting up for him, you know shit’s about to go down. you can feel it.

if the necklace (and therefore the curse) acted as both a narrative device and catalyst, leo’s swords represent the other side of that: the last bit of freedom he has left in this godawful situation.

they’re the last bit of freedom, his only hope of escape. raph taking them (or, rather, leo being compelled to surrender them) has just glorious undertones in the narrative as a whole.

if you were to consider the katanas a representation of leo’s autonomy, it makes sense why him being forced to give them up hits that much harder.

not only is it a tense situation, where leo is fighting back but ultimately unable to overcome the curse, it cements this underlying feeling of helplessness the author has been seeding since the chapter previous.

now that we’re here, with both the a plot and b plot coming into direct confrontation with what leo wants, we recognize that leo cannot continue how he is.

sure, he’ll keep on fighting it (abs i am very much looking forward to seeing how that goes), but this is the point where we know, there is no escaping.

leo is now truly stuck. without his katanas, fubdibg the necklace to break the curse on his own is basically impossible.

and he recognizes this.

leo’s characterization throughout this fic has been some of the best in the business. he’s smart, witty, independent, calculating — probably one of, if not the best true-to-character representations of rise!leo thats i’ve seen so far.

(absolutely phenomenal job there, i cannot stress this point enough.)

in fact, all of the characters in this fic are so well-written? i’m already seeing roots for character development within casey sr. (which i am so here for, oh my gods you don’t even know), and you can’t help but be invested in all of these relationships

we’re constantly being reminded of the emotional conflict, how much of a strain it’s putting on the relationships, not just between raph and leo, but between all of them.

leo sees this, understands something has to change, but feels paralyzed by what that could mean. for him, and his family.

not to beat the metaphorical dead horse, but that scene after leo surrenders his katanas abs flees back to his room? damn. i felt that on a visceral level.

being so tired, so miserable, so helpless, when a part of you knows you’re being irrational, but having your own pride and fear get in the way of that?

not to project all over these characters or whatever, but fuck. it feels like this was written to call out me, specifically (/j /lh)

and urgh! the detail work in this is incredible!

maybe i’m just a slut for somewhat contrived narratives, and definitely contrived foreshadowing, but the way it’s done in this fic comes off as so clean and organized.

it’s like... weaving threads in a tapestry. you can see where the connect, though you’re not quite sure where they’re going, until you can step back abs look at the picture as a whole.

it genuinely feels masterful in some places, like, mother of god, leave some talent for the rest of us!! (/lighthearted)

i could probably keep talking about this forever, but i do have other responsibilities i should be taking care of, and i kind of want to reread the three chapters that are out (as of writing this) again.

who knows, maybe i’ll revisit this in the future, when i have a better basis and understanding of the underlying themes here.

for now, dear author (if you are, for some reason, reading this),i hope you don’t mind my pretentious and meandering thoughts and/or assumptions. you’ll probably see me again, gushing in your comment sections. yours is just the kind of fic that deserves to be gushed about.

[popponn]

rin and xiao. kinda green and cold outside. cute and sweet inside. angry and have issues but

[aziraphaleyoufool]

Everything about Aziraphale and Crowley just works. Like *chef’s kiss* to it all. Rewatching scene compilations and it’s just stuff like the little smile on Aziraphale’s face as he corrects Crowley about the word smitten in the bar and tells him he’s being “silleh” (my attempt to spell silly in Aziraphale’s accent). Their chemistry is beautiful annnnnddd I really need to just get over it and stop this madness. It’s 4am and my brain is decaying. My soul is rotting. My heart - aching. Damn you Gaiman and your accursed writing for blessing us with this wonderful show.

[eternalsunrise]

study date

lsu! joe burrow x fem! reader

wc: 1.7k

tags! established relationship, make out sesh, no actual smut, jus a couple of horny college kids in love with each other, vomit inducing fluff

notes! brainrot so bad i had to start writing fics. hope the joe burrow community finds this well 🧘‍♀️ expect more for joe coming! xoxo

letters on a keyboard clicking and a pencil scrawling across paper are the only sounds that reverberate around the room. you started off sitting up straight, but as time progressed you’re basically lying down, laptop perched on your lap.

the pillows are plush underneath you, and your boyfriend’s scent is enveloping you. there’s something about joe’s bed that always feels 10 times more comfortable than your own.

if you closed your eyes you could probably doze off for a mid afternoon nap.

you hear the sound of someone shifting above the covers, but you don’t turn your head to look, too preoccupied with your essay that’s due in the morning.

you feel a kiss press against your cheek, and you can’t stop the smile that spreads across your face. “hi joey. you doing okay?”

another kiss against your cheek, followed by an overdramatic sigh, “yeah, just really hard to focus on statistics with something so distracting in my bed.”

joe’s closer now, a hand playing with your hair as he peppers kisses down your jawline.

you roll your eyes at his antics, knowing exactly how this was going to go. “oh i’m the distracting one?” you question, your tone sarcastic.

he moves his hand to your cheek, tilting your head to the left to face him. his blue eyes bore into yours and you realize why you’d avoided looking at him. it’s much easier to stay on task without his handsome face in view.

joe leans down to place a slow peck on your lips, “a very.” peck. “very.” peck. “pretty distraction.”

he pulls away from you entirely, smirking when you try and chase his lips. this is exactly why you wanted to study alone. as much as you loved your boyfriend, how are you expected to get anything done with a gorgeous quarterback all over you? but the two of you have barely seen each other these past few weeks, and joe insisted on you both doing schoolwork together before his practice later that day.

“joe. baby. we’re supposed to be studying.” your voice is pleading, begging for any sort of mercy. he caresses your cheek bone with his thumb, a smirk sitting on the side of his mouth. “i am studying.” he uses a tone that tells you he wants you to ask what his punchline is. you bite.

“and what are you studying exactly, joseph?”

he trails his hand down your body until it rests on your waist, just above where your hands and laptop sit. he lets his eyes trail down and back up, bright blues staring at you while he licks his lips, “anatomy.”

you let out a laugh for his sake, grabbing his wrist and removing his hand from your body, “you’re impossible!” you place a quick kiss on his lips, standing up and taking your laptop.

joe groans loudly, falling back against the pillows on his bed, “where are you going?”

you carry your work to his wooden, student-issued desk, setting your laptop down and taking a seat. “you’re going to stay there. and i’m going to stay here. we both need to get work done and it’s hard to do that when you’re being…well you!” you try to sound frustrated, but you both know better.

joe being the cocky bastard he is, just gives you a knowing smile. the effect he has on you just strokes his ego (as if anyone else needed to). he decides to leave you be for the time being. he picks his pencil back up and holds his hands up in faux innocence, “yes ma’am. whatever you need.”

you turn back to your essay, typing your third page, smiling when the framed picture of you two displayed on his desk appears in your peripheral vision. if you looked around, your presence is covering this room. his whole apartment in fact. sure, you may be putty in his hands. but you have joe burrow pretty much wrapped around your finger.

after about 20 minutes of both of you working diligently in silence, you hear joe clear his throat.

“hey pretty?”

“mhm?” you reply, clicking back and forth between your class notes and your paper.

“didn’t you say you took this class last year?” joe asks, deep voice like velvet when it hits your ears.

you pause your task and turn around in your chair, “yeah i did for a semester, why?” he looks absolutely delicious. he’s sporting a cozy lsu hoodie and nike gym shorts that reach barely mid thigh, his trademark array of bracelets decorate his wrists. the way one of this legs is raised make his shorts ride up, giving you a peek at his black briefs. you suddenly wonder if the essay is even that important.

“wanna come check this for me? make sure i did it right?” he taps his pencil a couple of times and holds out his notebook toward you. there’s no flirtation intent behind joe’s question, he just values your insight. and for some reason, that just turns you on even more. he’s won. he’s getting what he wanted without even trying.

you stand up from your seat and make your way over to him, taking the notebook from his hand. he looks up at you in silence, waiting for you to check his work. but instead you toss the notebook to the side. it makes a slight thud when it hits the hardwood.

joe opens his mouth to question your actions but you’re on the bed with him in a matter of seconds. you swing your leg over his hip and straddle his lap, legs resting on either side of him. his hands are on you immediately, per instinct, large hands engulfing your thighs. it takes him a moment to process your actions but he sobers up quickly, cocky and confident, “aw, who knew stats could get you so worked up?”

you want to knock that stupid smirk off of his face. you also never want it to go away.

“shut up.” followed by a feverish kiss full of want and desire. the lack of each other for weeks has stretched the rubber band of tension to a hilt, and you finally let it snap. your fingers thread through his wavy hair at the nape of his neck, tugging just a bit. he’s due for a haircut soon. a noise rattles up from his throat, your reaction immediate. your hips grind down, begging for some friction. he gladly provides, guiding your waist back and forth.

the next moments are full of tongue kisses and heavy breathing. “next time we—“ gasp. “study together, we’re doing it in public–ow!” joe bites your lip, an apology vibrates against your lip, you know he doesn’t mean it. “like the library.” joe grips your hips and flips the two of you over with ease. you yelp in surprise, now looking up at him.

joe scoffs at your words, “like that’s ever stopped us before.” he reconnects your lips, a new sense of urgency found in this kiss. he props himself up with an elbow next to your head. your leg finds itself hooking around his waist, forcing him impossibly closer to you. he breaks away for air, hand dragging up and down your lifted thigh. he leaves goosebumps in his wake.

he looks down between your bodies and watches as your hips lift to meet his own, adam’s apple bobbing. his eyes flick back to yours, a familiar darkness clouding the ocean. his kisses follow a trail down your jaw, “god baby, you drive me crazy.” he purrs in your ear, lips attacking your neck. you aren’t sure how he can say that, when you’re the one that feels dizzy under his touch. your hand finds his hair again, letting out fits of giggles when his mouth grazes your most sensitive spots.

you tilt your head to the side, catching sight of the time on your phone screen as it lit up on the nightstand. you let out a gasp, partly because of joe shifting his hand between your thighs, but mostly because it was almost time for, “joe. practice.”

he returns his attention to your lips, “5 more minutes, all i need.” he murmurs, capturing you in a kiss that’s hard to turn away from. you feel his hand slip under the waist band of your pants, and as much as you dread this ending; you know what you need to do.

“joey. babe, hey.” you use your grip on his hair to pull him away. the love drunk look on his face makes this even harder. “listen. as much as i want to, we can’t. you love to be unreasonably early, and coach o will track me down himself if i’m the reason his star isn’t there for pre, pre warmups.”

joe chuckles and nods his head, reluctantly removing his hands from you entirely; it’s as if you’re magnets, if he isn’t across the room you’ll gravitate back together. he stands and starts to get ready for the one thing you’re forced to share the title of joe’s first love with, football.

you start to stand to get ready to go home, but joe quickly faces you and shakes his head, black backpack and cleats in his hands.

“no no no stay. here.” he throws his backpack over his shoulder and uses his free hand to dig in his pocket. he pulls out his purple lanyard, plucking his apartment key from the carabiner.

joe places it in your hand and folds your fingers over it.

“here, i’m gonna have you one made anyway. go back to your dorm, grab some stuff. you can order dinner, finish your homework here. i’ll be back in a couple hours and i’ll take you to that froyo shop down the street and then we can…finish what we started.” joe says with a wiggle of his eyebrows. he punctuates his words with a sweet kiss on your lips, another on your forehead, “bye pretty. love you.”

you stare at him in awe, “love you. have fun!”

he winks at you before he walks out of the front door.

you sit there on the edge of the bed, staring down at the shiny key in your palm. you’re shocked at how he can make such a big relationship step seem so nonchalant. he’d obviously been thinking about this for a while, you being around more. in his space.

you flop down on your back, kicking your feet with a giddy smile. if you weren’t alone you’d be embarrassed.

looks like you’ll be studying here a lot more often.

[mustangbby]

LAZY MORNINGS - aventurine x reader

- your husband gets a call early in the morning, kicking a start to your day. but instead of him going into work, he stays in your arms.

- hellooo everyone! i'm back and i changed my theme up a little bit. thank you to all of the condolences i received, it made me smile and also made me happy :) but i feel ready enough to write once again, and i've been having aventurine brainrot...... hm... also my bad if this is really ooc i've read most of the penacony story and have payed extra to aventurines parts (i can also write ratio for all you ratio simps who want more food..) but my brain is wired weird so.... i fuck some things up anyways enjoy!!!!!!!!!

- no warnings, wc 528

You wake up, and immediately check the clock on the side of your nightstand. It reads 5:30 am.

You rub your eyes, scanning the room before your eyes land on your husband, Aventurine, who's got one hand in his hair and the other holding his phone up to his ear.

He was a beautiful sight; his eyes half open, hair messy, and pajamas in a bundle with one button keeping it on his torso. You lay a hand on the naked part of his chest, letting him know you were awake. He looks down at you, shooting you a soft smile before speaking into his phone.

“...Alright, I understand,” He said, his tone laced with irritation and sleepiness. “Lets schedule the interview for today.”

You sighed, replacing your hand with your head, trying to go back to sleep. You pull the silk sheets over your ear, everything below your eyes covered by the warm covers. Aventurine wraps an arm around your body, hanging up on the man who called to inform him of what you assumed was something important, and put his phone down next to him.

“Sorry if I woke you, sweetheart,” He sighs, wrapping his other arm around your torso. You nuzzle into him, eyes closed. You mumble something incoherent, and he chuckles. “Someones tired this morning.”

You nod, and he kisses the top of your head. “Do you have to leave early this morning?”

“Nope, not today. They wanted me to, but I'll just say I didn’t feel well enough to get out of bed. I don’t miss work too often, so they won't bat too much of an eye, hopefully."

You giggle a bit, snuggling even deeper into his chest, his heartbeat audible. It comforted you, it always does, and you could’ve fallen asleep right away if it weren’t for his voice keeping you conscious.

“I wish I could bring you to work with me, but unfortunately I can’t. I have to work with Ratio again today,” he groans, putting a hand up to his forehead. “I’d rather spare you of the nuisance he is.”

You laugh once more. “I bet he’s not that bad. You just make him sound like a geek, that’s all.”

“He’s much more than that. Much more insufferable.”

“I doubt it.”

You both laugh before simply holding each other. It seemed like it was only the two of you on this planet; the sounds of birds chirping brought a harmonious feeling, and it was as if none of your worries were able to break through your bedroom door and haunt you.

You tried to stay awake with your husband, considering he was probably up for the day due to the ever so rude interruption at such an early time in the morning. He was used to waking at this time, so he would’ve likely been up soon anyway. You, on the other hand, usually wake up when he’s long gone for the day, so it’s just natural to want to sleep a little longer.

“Fall back asleep, babe,” he pressed a tiny peck to the top of your head, burying his nose in your soft locks. “I’ll be here when you wake back up.”

[jals-stuff]

Some Rayne brainrot...

this is some stupid (and a bit horny??? no? yes? i don't know) stuff that went through my mind last night

MDNI PLEASE! this spawned in my head, no context

warnings: female reader, rayne is ooc and pervy, he is staring, dubcon (bit steamy at the end), bit of swearing, bit of horniness, mentions of boobies and peen...

i am very sorry, i wrote this with 0 hours of sleep. barely proofread. enjoy

Rayne Ames. The Divine Visionary, the Sword Cane.

If you watch animal documentaries, you are probably aware that cheetahs can stay in the same position for up to sixteen hours without moving at all…

Well, it so happens that Rayne’s facial expression is like a cheetah. He somehow always looks like you’ve told him a really bad pun, and he’s judging you for it (not funny, did not laugh). He probably even has this face on while he sleeps, eats, showers, and probably even while he decides to please himself. 

And yet, despite looking annoyed every second of the day, despite looking like the unfriendliest guy in the whole Academy, he looks absolutely stunning. Anyone would agree that Rayne Ames is a feast on the eyes. And you, as his seatmate in class, aren’t one to deny this.

.....................................................................

It was your last class hour for today and you couldn’t wait to go back to your dorm room and rot in bed like the absolute lazybone you were. Changing out of your uniform was now an emergency, as the shirt you had picked today was somehow way too tight for you.

Being clueless with basic things such as laundry had its pros and cons. Sure, your clothes were smaller now and you could barely fit; but it made you look incredibly sexy! …or so you kept telling yourself. Maybe you were just trying to cope with the fact that you were incredibly bad at basic human tasks.

You made your way to the classroom and got your notebook out. 

Today’s subject was pure theory, and you would’ve fallen asleep if you didn’t have the most scrumptious distraction sitting right next to you. You spent the hour doodling, taking notes whenever you paid enough attention to do so, and mostly throwing quick glances at your seatmate, Rayne, who was way too focused on the soporific theoretical experiments your elderly professor was passionately explaining, to pay attention to you.

When the old man turned around to write something on the blackboard, Rayne finally turned a fraction of his attention towards you. Of course, this happened during the minuscule amount of time you weren’t looking at him, and he took notice of a few things.

First of all, your notes were an absolute mess. Instead of trying to keep them consistent, you had picked a few words the teacher said, and chose to throw them into an adventure with other words, picked at different moments during class, resulting in an abomination that wouldn’t make sense, even to you. But you wouldn’t know, of course, since you never read your notes anyway. 

He would give you bonus points for the adorable little bunnies you had been doodling for the majority of your time in class, though.

Secondly, you seemed like you were about to sleep, but given the way you were taking notes, everything sort of made sense. Not your notes though, only the fact that you weren’t invested enough to stay awake.

Third of all, your shirt. He wished his eyes hadn’t lingered for such a long time on it. Why was it so tight? “Is she so dumb she can’t even do laundry?”, he wondered to distract himself from the fact that the button that kept your shirt closed around the chest area had the strength of a thousand lions. 

His eyes moved back to your face, and at this very moment, you chose to look at him. Your eyes met, and his expression was, as always, unreadable. Was he bored? Upset? Annoyed? At this point you were pretty sure he didn’t know any better. But it seemed a bit different this time, you could’ve sworn you saw his lower lid twitching slightly. 

You decided to turn your attention back to the teacher— or at least pretend to, for a while, and it lasted for a whopping fifty seconds. Efforts had been made! You deemed yourself deserving of a little treat, and an attempt was made to look at Rayne once again.

His eyes were still on you. Now it really felt like he was upset. You were used to his icy glare but it was getting a little uncomfortable, and so, as one does, you had a great shitty idea. You decided that stretching your back could maybe help you release some of this discomfort, and your button, may it rest in peace, gave up on its sole task of keeping your shirt closed. 

You couldn’t tell where it went at all. In fact, you didn’t even notice, but you did feel a little more comfortable now that your chest area was no longer being compressed, except it was in a literal meaning now, and not just figuratively speaking. You could still feel Rayne’s eyes on you, and decided that you wouldn’t look at him for the rest of this oh so boring class.

What you hadn’t noticed was that his eyes were no longer on your face, but rather on the missing button’s previous spot. “Is she so dumb she can’t take care of her clothing?”, he wondered to distract himself from the fact that he could now clearly see your bra. 

He could see that one mesmerising spot where your breasts were pushing in a wondrous effort to get out of their insufferable lace prison. In fact, pretty much anyone could’ve seen it if they had turned around, but it seemed this professor was either hypnotic or soporific because everyone was staring in his direction. 

You were then blissfully unaware of the fact that Rayne was now leading an internal battle. He had to get his eyes off of your cleavage, for your breasts were not the only things screaming for freedom anymore. Ah, perhaps Rayne was also bad at laundry, because his pants felt increasingly tight the longer he stared at you.

Divine Visionary or not, he was but a man, and what power does a man hold when presented with sweet bosoms? None. That’s right. He tried to think about anything else. Rabbits? His little brother, Finn? The concerning relationship Lance had with his little sister? The way alcoholism thrived amongst the ranks of the State police? No matter what went through his head, he couldn’t take his eyes off of you.

He had to do something about it, and you were probably not escaping this one.

.....................................................................

As soon as the bell rang, he closed his coat as much as he could, and grabbed your arm before you could leave, and this time you could tell he was pretty upset. Why? How could you know? You didn’t know anything. Had your head not been attached to your shoulders, you would’ve probably lost it already. 

Instead of giving you any sort of explanation, he immediately dragged you with him. Your life felt like a movie that was playing in front of your eyes. My time has come, you thought, but… not quite.

You found yourself in Rayne’s dorm room, locked in with him. His roommate wasn’t there, and it was clear this crime would leave no witnesses. 

It took him half a second to remove his coat and— oh. You were suddenly in Egypt.

Everything was there: the stone hard pyramid, the Sphinx (that seemed ready to pounce on you), and the heat. Oh boy, the heat. As a very refined lady (yes you are), you brought your hand to your chest in indignation, and oh, how distraught you felt when you realised that your beloved chest button was nowhere to be seen. It was all starting to make sense.

Without a word, he pushed you against the wall and his lips met yours in a rough, steamy kiss. Your whole body felt like it was on fire; his toned chest was pressing against yours and breaking your buttons further, his clothed erection was slightly rubbing against your clit through your panties and his hands roamed your body hungrily while his tongue left no corner of your mouth unexplored.

It was all a lot to take in but it felt so intoxicating, the way his large hands held onto your hips to keep you from squirming too much underneath his passionate touch, and how his teeth were grazing against your lips while a mixture of both your salivas dripped from the corner of your mouth. 

His body was grinding against yours like waves on the beach, and both your breathings were becoming increasingly noisy. Only after long, delicious minutes of this make-out session did he break the kiss, panting for air, as he looked into your eyes with a lustful gaze you were now used to seeing.

It wasn't your first time pushing his buttons like this, and it certainly wasn't your last.

“You did it on purpose, admit it.”

Whaaat, you? Pfffft, never! But… let’s just say you’re not usually that bad at doing your laundry.

.....................................................................

smol reminder that i am very bored and i also take requests for mashle, hsr, genshin, jjk, elsword, tower of fantasy...

xoxo

[realhotgirlshitah]

Hii, love your vlog!!!

So I was thinking about bimbo!reader giving hints to Ethan about how much she wants him, but him being clueless, because he doesn't think she can be into him. Until one day reader loss it and says something like 'can you stf an fuck me?!'

If you're not comfortable it's okay, no problem girl, just a brainrot ❤️❤️

Thanks for the request anon, I’m actually a slut so I had no problem writing this! Unfortunately I am also a lazy slut which is why it took me a week to release this, my bad!

Hints and misses 🎀💋

Warnings: Oral (fem and male receiving) facesitting, subby Ethan, missionary, riding, Ethan is a bit of a loser but he is also a MUNCH because I said so and my word is law.

You weren’t really the “studious” type, and everyone knew it. Sure, you just about passed your classes, but economics? Yeah, that wasn’t your thing. Honestly, you had no idea what was going on half the time. So when Chad suggested his nerdy roommate Ethan help you out, you jumped at the chance. Not because you were desperate to understand supply and demand curves, but because you had the biggest crush on Ethan. There was something about his awkwardness that you found absolutely irresistible.

It wasn’t just that he was smart—like, really smart—but he was the kind of guy who didn’t even realize how hot he was. Ethan Landry was a virgin in every sense of the word and had clearly never felt the touch of a woman and it turned you on beyond belief. The way he would stumble over his words, run his hands hurriedly through his curls when he was nervous, the way his cheeks flushed when you got too close to him… it was all too much. You had been flirting with him for months, making it blatantly obvious that you wanted him. But for some reason, he never seemed to get the hint no matter how hard you tried.

And trust me, you tried.

Hard.

For example, one night, the group was talking about “types” during a chill hangout. When Ethan made a self-deprecating joke about how “nerds aren’t usually anyone’s type,” you decided it was the perfect opportunity.

“I love nerds,” you declared, looking right at him, resting your hand on his arm for emphasis. “Like, so much. I mean, smart guys are, like, totally my thing.”

Ethan gave a shy smile. “Oh, that’s nice! Nerds are great, right? They’re super focused… like when they’re playing Dungeons & Dragons or calculating statistical probabilities.”

“Yes!” you said, inching closer. “I love a guy who’s, like, super focused… and intense… and maybe even obsessed, y’know?”

He grinned, eyes lighting up. “That’s awesome! You should totally play D&D with us sometime. It takes hours, but it’s so fun.”

You opened your mouth, ready to explain that the only dungeon you were interested in involved a certain bedroom vibe, but he was already lost in thought, excitedly talking about character stats.

Or that one time when you convinced Ethan to go for ice cream with you. You wore your shortest denim skirt and leaned in every chance you got, licking your ice cream cone with obvious intent.

“So, Ethan,” you said, licking the ice cream slowly and giving him a very suggestive look. “Do you like… really sweet things?”

He smiled, nodding enthusiastically. “Oh, yeah! I love sweets. Did you know the chemical structure of sugar is actually super interesting?”

You blinked, holding back a sigh. “Uh-huh… fascinating. But what if, like, someone sweet wanted to… share ice cream with you?” You held out your cone, winking.

Ethan just looked at you, confused. “But we have our own cones…?”

At this point, you just stared at him, open-mouthed, while Mindy fell off the bench laughing behind you.

“Oh fuck you, Mindy, go suck a dick or something,” you glared witheringly at your friend.

“I’m literally a lesbian but at this rate, I have a higher chance of sucking a dick than you have hooking up with Landry,” she snorted from the ground.

You were sick and tired of Ethan not catching your very blatant hints. You wanted that man and TRUST, you were going to have him.

You glanced at yourself in the mirror before he came over, adjusting your low-cut pink top, making sure it showed just enough cleavage. You tugged at the hem of your skirt, smirking at how short it was, and checked your lip gloss one last time. You weren’t here to actually learn anything tonight. You had a much better plan in mind.

When Ethan knocked on your door, you could already feel that familiar flutter of excitement in your stomach. You opened the door, beaming at him. “Hey, Ethan! Thanks sooo much for coming over to help me. I’ve been, like, totally lost in this class.”

He smiled nervously, awkward as ever, and adjusted the strap of his backpack on his shoulder. “Uh, yeah, no problem. Economics can be a bit tricky if you’re not used to it.”

You led him inside, swaying your hips a little more than usual, knowing full well he’d notice. His eyes flickered to your outfit for a split second before he quickly looked away, his face already turning pink.

“Let’s sit on the couch,” you suggested, sitting down with your legs crossed in a way that showed off just enough thigh. “I’ve got, like, all my notes, but I don’t really get it. You’re, like, sooo much smarter than me, Ethan.”

He sat beside you, setting his textbook on the coffee table, his fingers twitching nervously. “You’re not—uh, you’re smart. You just need someone to explain it differently.”

You blinked at him, twirling a strand of your hair around your finger. He was cute when he tried to be nice. “You’re sweet. But seriously, I don’t get any of this stuff.”

Ethan opened his book, flipping to a page covered in graphs. He started talking about supply and demand curves, how prices shifted when supply or demand increased. You were trying to focus—you really were—but the way his voice rumbled softly as he explained things, the way his curls flopped over his eyes every now and then, made it impossible for you to concentrate on anything other than how hot he looked.

You leaned a little closer, pretending to look at the graph he was pointing to. “Mmm, yeah, sure. That makes sense, I guess,” you mumbled, not even paying attention to what he was saying anymore. Your eyes were glued to the way his lips moved when he talked, and you felt heat pool in your stomach. You bit your lip, completely distracted by the way his hands moved across the page, how his fingers flexed as he explained some concept you were completely ignoring.

Fuck he was such a loser, you needed him CARNALLY.

“And so, when the price of a good increases…” Ethan continued, completely oblivious to your internal meltdown.

You couldn’t take it anymore. You had been dropping hints for months—months! And he still didn’t get it. He still thought you wanted his help with homework when all you really wanted was him. The frustration built up until you snapped.

“Ethan, can you shut the fuck up and just fuck me?”

The words left your mouth before you even realized it, and suddenly the room was dead silent. Ethan froze mid-sentence, his hand still hovering over the page, his eyes wide as he turned to look at you.

“Wait… what?” His voice cracked slightly, his face flushing bright red. He looked so bewildered, like he couldn’t believe what you’d just said.

You rolled your eyes and grabbed his wrist, pulling him closer to you. “I said, shut the fuck up and fuck me, Ethan.” Your voice was firm, leaving no room for misunderstanding. “I don’t care about this stupid homework. I’ve been dropping hints for ages, and you’ve been completely clueless! I’ve been waiting for you to figure it out, but you’re, like, so dense.”

His eyes widened even more, if that was even possible. He stammered, “But—but why would you—I mean, you’re… you’re you, and I’m just…”

“Oh my god, stop,” you interrupted, shaking your head. “You’re smart, you’re hot, and I want you. I’ve wanted you for months. How have you not figured this out?”

Ethan looked like his brain had short-circuited. “You… you want me?”

“Yes! Duh!” You were getting impatient now. “Look at me, Ethan. I don’t dress like this because I care about economics. I dressed like this for you. I’ve been flirting with you, touching you, sitting as close to you as possible, and you just… never got it.”

He blinked rapidly, looking completely dumbfounded. “But… I thought… someone like you would never want… someone like me.”

You groaned in frustration. “Why the hell not? You’re cute! You’re smart! And you’re, like, sooo sexy when you talk about all this stuff. Do you know how hot you are when you start explaining things? It gets my pussy so wet all I wanna do is fuckin ruin you!”

Ethan’s face was a deep shade of red now, and he still looked like he couldn’t quite believe what was happening. “I… I had no idea.”

“Well, now you do,” you said, your voice softening as you grabbed his hand and placed it on your waist. “So, what are you gonna do about it?”

He stared at you, his hand trembling slightly as it rested against your waist. “I—I don’t know what to say. I mean… I’ve never…”

You smirked, leaning in until your lips were barely an inch from his. “You don’t have to say anything, Ethan. Just kiss me.”

For a second, it looked like he was still processing everything, but then, finally, he leaned in, his lips crashing against yours. The kiss was messy, nervous, but filled with all the pent-up tension that had been building between you for months. You moaned softly into his mouth, your hands tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer, pressing your body against his.

Ethan’s hands were tentative at first, unsure of where to touch, but you guided them, placing them on your hips and encouraging him to explore. His touch was hesitant, but it sent shivers down your spine all the same. He pulled away from the kiss, breathless, his eyes wide with wonder.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” he murmured, almost to himself.

You grinned, your lips brushing against his as you whispered, “Believe it, nerd. Now, stop thinking so much and just fuck me.”

“Can I- can you- please teach me how to make you feel good?” The way the question filled the empty room caught you off guard, you weren’t expecting your innocent friend to ask something like that! But the grin that spread across your face was practically sinister. You wanted this bad.

Before he knew it, Ethan was being dragged to your bedroom, still in complete and utter shock at how this was happening and how your clothes were already coming off.

You lay back against the pillows, watching as Ethan hovered between your legs, his breath shaky but his eyes filled with a nervous determination. He looked at you, clearly waiting for more instruction, his fingers trembling slightly as they rested on your thighs.

You smiled, your voice soft but teasing. “Don’t be so nervous, Ethan. Just do what feels natural.”

He swallowed hard, then nodded, leaning down until his mouth was just a breath away from you. His first kiss against your skin was gentle, almost tentative, but the sensation sent a shiver of anticipation through you.

Ethan paused, his breath warm against you, then he dove back in, his tongue tentatively exploring you. His movements were slow at first, unsure, but you could feel how eager he was, how desperate he was to make sure he got it right. His inexperience didn’t matter—what mattered was the intensity of his focus, how every little sound you made seemed to spur him on.

“Just like that,” you moaned softly, your fingers tangling in his hair, guiding him. “You’re doing so good, baby.”

The praise seemed to light a fire in him. You could feel him getting bolder, his tongue moving with more confidence as he began to lose himself in the moment. He was so eager, so focused on your pleasure that it made your head spin. His hands gripped your thighs, holding you in place as he licked and sucked at your core, his pace quickening.

Ethan’s breath was coming in quick, desperate pants between strokes of his tongue. You could hear him whimpering softly against you, his lips wet and swollen from the effort, but he didn’t stop. In fact, he only grew more frantic as you moaned and gasped above him.

“Oh my god,” you whimpered, your back arching off the bed as waves of pleasure began to roll through your body. “Ethan… yes…”

His response was a low, needy moan that vibrated through you. His enthusiasm was overwhelming, his tongue moving faster, sloppier, as he became more desperate. He was whimpering between kisses, his grip on your thighs tightening, and you realized with a jolt that he was grinding against the bed, trying to relieve some of the tension building inside him.

“Fuck, you’re so good at this,” you gasped, your voice shaking as you felt the heat building inside you. “Keep going… don’t stop…”

Ethan let out another whimper, his tongue working you over with renewed intensity as you praised him. His hips rocked against the bed, his moans growing louder, more desperate. He was lost in it now—lost in your taste, in the feeling of your body responding to him, in the need to make you feel good.

“T-Thank you,” he mumbled against your skin, his words muffled by the wet sounds of his mouth on you. “You taste… so fucking good…”

You glanced down at him, breathless and dazed by the sight. His face was flushed, his lips glistening with your slick, and his eyes were heavy-lidded with lust. He looked completely wrecked, and it only made you want him more.

“Oh my god, Ethan,” you moaned, your fingers tightening in his hair as your hips bucked against his mouth. “You’re making me… oh fuck…”

He groaned in response, his movements growing even sloppier as he chased your pleasure with an almost frantic urgency. His whimpers were constant now, his entire body trembling as he worked himself against the bed, desperate for release. But even as he lost control, he never stopped focusing on you, on your pleasure.

You could feel the pressure building inside you, the heat coiling tighter and tighter with every stroke of his tongue. Ethan’s hands were gripping your thighs so tightly that you were sure there would be bruises, but you didn’t care. All you cared about was the way he was making you feel—the way his eagerness, his desperation, was pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

“Oh god, I’m gonna come,” you whimpered, your entire body trembling as you neared the brink. “Ethan, don’t stop…”

He didn’t stop. In fact, he only grew more frantic, his tongue working you over with a kind of raw desperation that made your head spin. He moaned against you, the sound vibrating through your body, and it was enough to send you spiraling over the edge.

You came with a loud cry, your body arching off the bed as pleasure crashed over you in waves. Ethan kept going, his tongue relentless as he worked you through your orgasm, his whimpers of pleasure blending with your moans.

But even as your body began to relax, as the pleasure ebbed, Ethan didn’t stop. He was still going, his tongue slower now but just as eager, as if he couldn’t get enough of you. You could feel him trembling, hear his soft whimpers, and when you glanced down at him, you saw that his lips were swollen, glistening, his eyes half-closed with lust.

“Ethan!” you finally gasped, tugging gently on his curls to pull him away, your own body still trembling. “You need to stop…”

But he looked up at you, completely dazed, his lips covered with your slick, and there was a desperate need in his gaze. “No, please,” he whined, his voice thick with desire. “I want more… let me do it again. Sit on my face, please.”

The words sent a fresh wave of heat through you, and for a moment, all you could do was stare at him, completely dazed. He looked unrecognisable—his hair messy from your hands, face smeared with your juices and his eyes blown wide with lust. And yet, he was still begging for more, desperate to make you feel good again.

You smirked, your heart racing as you considered his request. “You want me to sit on your face, huh?”

Ethan nodded eagerly, his hands already reaching for your hips. “Please,” he whimpered again, his voice filled with need. “I want to make you feel good… let me do it again. I need it.”

The desperation in his voice was almost enough to send you over the edge again right then and there.

You could see the desperation in Ethan’s eyes as you teased him, and it only made you want him more. He lay back on the bed, breathless and dazed, his chest rising and falling rapidly, lips still glistening from his relentless efforts. His eyes tracked your every movement as you slowly climbed back over him, hovering above his face, watching the anticipation build in those wide brown eyes.

“God, you really can’t get enough, can you?” you murmured, your voice sultry and teasing as you dragged your fingers gently through his messy curls. He whimpered, his hips already jerking up into the air in a needy, helpless motion, like he couldn’t control himself anymore.

You relented, lowering yourself down until you were back on his face, and the second he felt you against his lips again, Ethan moaned like a man starved. His tongue immediately dove back in, more eager than before, licking and sucking with reckless abandon, as if he was addicted to the way you tasted. He groaned against you, his hands gripping your thighs tight enough to leave marks, pulling you down harder against his mouth.

You bit your lip, suppressing a moan as you started to rock your hips against him. The way he moved beneath you, the way he whimpered and moaned like he was getting drunk off your taste, was driving you wild. He was a mess, absolutely lost in you, and you loved every second of it.

“You’re so fucking good at this,” you breathed, your voice trembling as pleasure built inside you once again. “It’s like you were made for it… made to make me feel good.”

Ethan whimpered in response, his tongue pressing deeper, flicking wildly against your clit. He couldn’t speak, couldn’t even think straight anymore. All he could do was focus on you, on the taste of you on his tongue, the feel of your body rocking against his face.

You felt the shift in him as you began to pick up the pace, grinding harder against him. His hips jerked up into the air, desperate for any kind of relief. But he had nothing to grind against, nothing to alleviate the intense need that was building inside him. He was humping the air, whining and whimpering beneath you, his body trembling with the sheer force of his desire.

“Poor baby,” you cooed, your voice dripping with mock sympathy as you looked down at him, watching his face disappear between your thighs. “You had no idea, did you? How badly I wanted this… how badly I wanted you.”

He moaned again, his hands trembling as they gripped your thighs harder, trying to pull you down further onto his mouth. He was completely lost in you now, his tongue moving sloppily but enthusiastically as you rode his face. And the way he was so desperate, so utterly consumed by your pleasure, only made you want him more.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been fantasizing about this,” you continued, your voice breathy and filled with lust. “I’ve thought about you so many times, Ethan. Thought about how good it would feel to have you between my legs, thought about teaching you… showing you everything.”

Ethan whimpered beneath you, his hips jerking up even harder, humping the air like he couldn’t help himself. His tongue flicked faster, sloppier, as he devoured you, his whole body trembling with the force of his desperation.

“You’re so fucking hot,” you moaned, your pace picking up as you rode him faster, your fingers tugging on his curls. “God, I never thought I’d be into nerdy guys, but you—fuck, you drive me crazy. I couldn’t stop thinking about you in class, about what it would be like to have you like this… to make you mine.”

Ethan’s response was another desperate, muffled moan, his lips swollen and slick as he licked and sucked at you with reckless abandon. You could feel the tension in his body, the way he was humping the air helplessly, completely lost in his desire for you. His eyes fluttered shut as he moaned into you, his whimpers growing more frantic the faster you moved.

“I’ve been fantasizing about you for so long,” you continued, your voice trembling with lust. “Every time we hung out, every time you were so oblivious to how badly I wanted you, it drove me insane. I wanted to drag you into my room and just… fuck you until you couldn’t think straight, until you knew my body better than any of those fuckass econ graphs.”

Ethan’s hips bucked wildly beneath you at that, his whimpers turning into needy, broken sounds as his tongue worked you over with even more desperation. He was completely at your mercy, unable to do anything but whimper and moan as you used him for your own pleasure.

“And now, you’re here,” you gasped, your fingers tightening in his hair as you rocked harder against his face. “Now you’re mine… my good boy… making me feel so fucking good…”

Ethan let out a muffled cry beneath you, his whole body trembling as he sucked and licked with wild abandon, his desperation palpable. He was babbling incoherently, thanking you between gasps and whimpers, his voice barely audible against your skin.

You could feel the tension building inside you again, your body trembling as you rode his face faster, harder. The way he was so desperate, so eager to please you, was driving you wild. You could feel him practically worshipping you with every stroke of his tongue, every moan that spilled from his lips.

“You’re amazing,” you gasped, your voice breathy as you neared the edge once again. “So fucking amazing…”

Ethan’s response was another needy whimper, his tongue moving frantically as he tried to push you over the edge. His hips were still jerking up into the air, humping desperately as he sought any kind of release. But he didn’t stop—he couldn’t stop. He was completely consumed by his need to make you come, and the desperation in his movements only made your pleasure intensify.

“Oh my god,” you moaned, your head falling back as you felt yourself tipping over the edge. “I’m gonna come again, Ethan… don’t stop…”

He let out a desperate groan, his lips swollen and slick as he licked and sucked at you with everything he had, his hips still humping the air in helpless need. And with one final, frantic flick of his tongue, you came undone once again.

Your body shook as your orgasm ripped through you, your hips bucking wildly against his face as you cried out. But even as you came, even as you trembled and gasped, Ethan didn’t stop. He kept going, his tongue working you over with desperate, wild enthusiasm, as if he couldn’t get enough of you.

By the time you came down from your high, your legs were shaking, your body still trembling from the intensity of it all. You glanced down at Ethan, your breath catching at the sight of him—his face was a mess, his lips swollen and slick, his eyes dazed and wide with lust. And yet, he was still going, still licking you like he was addicted to the taste of you.

“Fuck, Ethan,” you gasped, breathless and dazed as you looked down at him. “You’re a fucking mess…”

He moaned in response, his hips jerking wildly as he humped the air, his whimpers growing more frantic as he continued to devour you. He was completely lost in it now, utterly consumed by his need to please you.

“God, you really want it bad, don’t you?” you murmured, your voice teasing as you looked down at him. “You’re so desperate for me… and I love it.”

He whined again, his hands gripping your thighs as he tried to pull you down harder onto his face, his babbling incoherent as he thanked you again and again, practically worshipping you with his mouth.

As you pulled yourself away from Ethan’s face, he let out a desperate whine, his hands twitching as if he was already mourning the loss of your taste. His lips were even more swollen, and his eyes, still dazed with lust, blinked up at you, wide with need.

He opened his mouth to beg, but you silenced him before he could utter a word, sliding down his body with a smirk. His breath hitched in his throat as he watched you, wide-eyed and trembling beneath you as he realized what you were about to do.

“Now it’s my turn,” you whispered, your voice dripping with lust and amusement as you looked down at him, dragging your nails lightly over his heaving chest. “Let me show you how it feels…”

Ethan’s breath came out in a ragged gasp as your hands slid lower, his body jerking beneath your touch. When you finally reached him, you paused, your fingers lightly grazing his hardness through his boxers, and you couldn’t help the look of surprise that crossed your face.

He was big.

For a moment, you just stared, slightly taken aback, before a wicked grin spread across your lips. “Well, well,” you teased, slipping your hand beneath the fabric and wrapping your fingers around him. Ethan let out a sharp gasp, his entire body shuddering at your touch. “You’ve been hiding this the whole time, huh?”

Ethan’s response was a choked whimper, his hips bucking up into your hand as you slowly stroked him, your touch light and teasing. “Oh, fuck…” he groaned, his voice shaky and ragged as he trembled beneath you. “I—fuck, I didn’t…”

You cut him off, leaning down to press a kiss to the tip of his length, your lips brushing over the sensitive skin as he moaned loudly, his hands gripping the sheets so tightly his knuckles turned white.

“Jesus, this feels incredible,” he gasped, his head falling back against the pillows as you began to stroke him in earnest, your hand sliding up and down his length, feeling him throb under your touch. “Holy shit, that feels so good…”

You moaned around him, your own arousal spiking at the sound of his voice, at the way he was completely unraveling beneath you. You could feel him throbbing in your mouth, his length twitching as you hollowed your cheeks, sucking harder. His hips bucked up again, and you had to steady him with your hands, your fingers gripping his thighs as you began to bob your head, taking him deeper with every movement.

Ethan was losing it. His breath came out in ragged pants, his hips jerking up into your mouth as he swore under his breath, his voice shaky and desperate. “Oh my god… I… fuck, that’s so good, I can’t—fuck, I can’t…”

You smirked around him, your hands stroking the parts of him you couldn’t reach with your mouth, feeling him pulse under your touch. He was so responsive, so utterly lost in the pleasure, and it was driving you wild. You loved watching him fall apart, loved knowing that you were the one making him feel this way.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Ethan moaned, his voice a mess of broken curses as his hips bucked up again, his body trembling beneath you. “I’ve never… I didn’t know… oh my god…”

You took him deeper, your tongue swirling around him as you moaned again, the vibrations making him shudder. He was babbling now, incoherent sounds spilling from his lips as he tried to hold himself together, but you could tell he was close—his breath was coming in ragged gasps, his body tense, his hips jerking up into your mouth with every movement.

“Please…” he gasped, his voice barely audible as he whimpered beneath you, his hands gripping the sheets so tightly it looked like he might tear them. “Please don’t stop, I need—fuck, I need you…”

You didn’t. You kept going, your pace quickening as you took him as deep as you could, your hands stroking him faster. His reactions were driving you wild—the way he was falling apart beneath you, the way he couldn’t stop swearing and moaning your name. His hips were out of control now, jerking up into your mouth with every bob of your head, and you could tell he was teetering on the edge.

“Oh fuck… I’m so close, I’m so fucking close…” Ethan’s voice was high and desperate, his whole body trembling as he gasped for breath, his hips bucking uncontrollably. “I’m gonna—”

You pulled back slightly, teasing him, licking slowly up his length as you watched him writhe beneath you. His eyes flew open, wide and glazed with lust, and he let out a loud, desperate whimper, his hips jerking up into the air in a futile attempt to chase your mouth.

“Please,” he begged, his voice shaky and desperate. “Please, I need you…”

You smiled wickedly, your hand still stroking him as you leaned down, your lips brushing over his tip as you whispered, “You’re so fucking hot when you’re falling apart like this.”

Ethan moaned loudly, his head falling back against the pillows as his hips bucked up again, his entire body trembling with the force of his need. He was so close, teetering on the edge, and you could see it in the way his chest heaved, the way his voice cracked with every moan.

“We have plenty of time for you to cum in my mouth Landry. But for now, the only place I want your cum is in my pussy,” you grinned wickedly as you crawled back up his body and grabbed his shaft to rub through your dripping folds. “You want this, baby?”

When all you received in response was a rushed nod, whimper and jerk of the hips, you tutted disapprovingly, leaning over to whisper in his ear.

“Cmon pretty boy, I know you can do better than that. I haven’t even put your cock in my pussy yet, there’s no way you’re too fucked out to speak, use your words,”

“Please- I need to feel you around my cock, need you so so bad!” He whimpered in desperation, jerking his hips up to nudge against your entrance. The movement made you giggle before finally relenting, sinking down on his thick length in one go, prompting a string of curses to fall from both of your lips. You bit your lip and mewled at the full feeling that overtook your body, feeling full from finally having that sexy clueless nerd balls deep in you.

You could feel Ethan trembling beneath you as you began to move, his hands gripping your thighs with a hesitant touch. His nerves were obvious, the way his breath hitched in his throat, the way his body stiffened every time you sank down on him. He was trying so hard to hold it together, but you knew he was on the verge of losing control—and you were going to push him right over the edge.

You smirked as you started to rock your hips, your movements slow and teasing at first, just to watch him squirm. His eyes fluttered shut, and his mouth fell open with a shaky gasp as you took him in deeper. It was almost cute, the way he was trying to hold on, but you were far too impatient for that.

“Aw, look at you honey,” you cooed, your voice dripping with amusement as you leaned down, your lips brushing against his ear. “Is this too much for you? Already falling apart and I’ve barely even started.”

Ethan let out a choked whimper, his hands gripping your hips tighter as his body trembled beneath you. “I-I’m sorry,” he gasped, his voice shaky and breathless. “I just—fuck, you feel so good, I don’t… I can’t…”

You laughed softly, your nails dragging down his chest as you rocked your hips a little harder, a little faster. “I know, baby,” you purred, your voice low and teasing. “I know it’s your first time, so I’ll take it easy on you… for now.”

He whimpered again, his hands trembling as they slid up your thighs, gripping you tightly as if he was trying to ground himself. But you weren’t about to let him off that easy.

“You’ve been dreaming about this, haven’t you?” you murmured, your voice sultry and playful as you leaned in closer, your breath hot against his ear. “All those nights you were too shy to even look at me, thinking you didn’t stand a chance. But now look at you—finally getting what you’ve been begging for, and you don’t even know how to handle it.”

Ethan let out a strangled moan, his hips jerking up into you as his whole body trembled beneath you. “I… I didn’t think…” He could barely get the words out, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps. “I didn’t think you’d ever want me like this…”

You grinned wickedly, your hands sliding up his chest as you moved faster, your hips grinding down against him. “Oh, baby, you have no idea,” you whispered, your voice dripping with lust as you started to ride him harder. “I’ve wanted you for so long… watching you get all flustered around me, trying to hide how much you wanted me… It drove me crazy.”

Ethan moaned loudly, his head falling back against the pillow as he arched into your movements, his entire body trembling. His eyes were half-lidded with lust, his lips parted in breathless whimpers as he struggled to keep up with your pace. He was so close, and you could tell he was doing everything he could to hold back, to make it last, but you weren’t going to let him.

“You’ve been so good, though,” you teased, your voice a low purr as you dragged your nails down his chest. “Begging me with those puppy eyes, thinking you weren’t good enough for me… But look at you now, baby. Look how good you feel inside me. You’re doing so well.”

His eyes flew open at your praise, wide and dazed as he looked up at you. He whimpered, his body trembling beneath you, his hands clutching at your thighs as if he was trying to hold on. “I… I want more,” he gasped, his voice desperate and pleading. “Please… I want more…”

You leaned down, your lips brushing against his ear as you whispered, “You want more, baby? You want me to ride you until you can’t take it anymore?”

Ethan nodded frantically, his breath coming in ragged pants as he bucked up into you, his whole body trembling. “Please,” he begged, his voice shaky and desperate. “Please, I need more… I need you…”

You smirked, loving the way he was falling apart beneath you. “Such a good boy,” you murmured, your voice dripping with praise and amusement as you started to ride him faster, harder, your hips grinding down against him with every thrust. “You’re doing so good for me, baby. I didn’t think you’d be able to handle this, but you’re proving me wrong.”

Ethan let out a loud, broken moan, his hips jerking up into you as he whimpered beneath you, his body trembling with every movement. “I… I’m trying… fuck, I’m trying so hard…”

“Of course you are,” you purred, leaning down to nip at his earlobe, making him shudder. “But you don’t have to try so hard, baby. Just let go. Let me make you feel good.”

He let out a desperate whimper, his hands shaking as they slid up your sides, gripping you tightly as if he was afraid to let go. “I don’t… I don’t know if I can last…”

“Good,” you breathed, your hips grinding down harder as you felt him start to lose control beneath you. “Don’t hold back. I want you to come for me.”

Ethan’s breath hitched in his throat, his eyes rolling back as his whole body tensed beneath you. “I… fuck, I can’t… I’m gonna—”

“Come for me, baby,” you whispered, your voice commanding as you rode him harder, feeling him throbbing inside you. “Fill me up.”

With a loud, desperate moan, Ethan finally tipped over the edge, his hips jerking up into you as his whole body convulsed beneath you, trembling with the force of his release. You could feel him pulsing inside you, his hands gripping you so tightly it almost hurt, but it only drove you further, riding him through his orgasm as he gasped and whimpered beneath you.

“Such a good boy,” you purred, your voice dripping with praise as you slowed your movements, letting him come down from the high. “You did so well for me, baby. So, so good.”

Ethan’s breath came in ragged gasps, his body trembling beneath you as he blinked up at you, his eyes wide and dazed. His cheeks were flushed, his hair a mess, and he looked completely gone—and it was the hottest thing you’d ever seen.

“Fuck,” he breathed, his voice shaky as he looked up at you with wide, awe-filled eyes. “That was… I can’t even…”

You grinned down at him, your fingers brushing through his messy hair as you leaned in close, your lips brushing against his. “Don’t worry, baby,” you whispered, your voice a low purr. “We’re just getting started.”

As Ethan came down from his high, still panting beneath you, you could see a spark ignite in his eyes. His gaze shifted, taking in every curve of your body as if he was seeing you for the first time. You leaned down, brushing your lips against his, teasing him with every movement as you felt him start to regain his composure.

“Okay, let’s switch it up a bit,” you said, your voice sultry and playful. “I want to show you how to make me feel even better.”

He looked up at you, a hint of nervousness still lingering in his expression. “How do you want me to… uh, you know, do it?”

You grinned, loving how eager he was to learn. “Let me show you,” you purred, sliding off him and turning around so you were both on your knees, facing each other. “Just like this. Get ready to take me in missionary.”

Ethan’s eyes widened with anticipation as you positioned yourself under him. You could see the nervous energy coursing through him, but you were determined to help him embrace this moment. “Just relax and let me guide you,” you said softly, your voice warm and encouraging.

As you settled yourself beneath him, you took a moment to enjoy the way his body looked beneath you. He was handsome, with those sweet, boyish features that drove you wild. You could see the tension in his muscles, but the way he gazed at you with those wide, innocent eyes made your heart race.

“Now,” you said, your voice sultry as you leaned down closer, brushing your lips against his. “I want you to push into me. Just like before, but this time, you’re in control.” You slowly guided him into you, letting him feel how warm and inviting you were, watching his face contort with pleasure.

Ethan’s breath hitched as he pushed in deeper, the sensation igniting something primal in him. “Like this?” he asked, his voice thick with need.

“Exactly,” you replied, encouraging him with a sultry smile. “Now, I want you to find your rhythm. Just focus on how good it feels to be inside me.”

He nodded, his eyes locked on yours as he began to move, cautiously at first. With each thrust, he grew more confident, his movements becoming faster and more deliberate. You could feel the intensity building between you, the way he filled you completely driving you wild.

“That’s it, baby,” you encouraged, your voice low and filled with desire. “You’re doing so good. Just like that. Harder.”

Ethan responded to your words, his thrusts becoming more enthusiastic, more urgent. The way he looked at you—his eyes dark with lust, his lips parted in a breathless moan—made your heart race even faster. You couldn’t help but revel in the heat of the moment, every sound, every movement sending a shiver of excitement through your body.

“God, you’re so hot,” you said, your voice dripping with lust as you leaned down to whisper in his ear. “I can’t believe how well you’re handling this. You’re making me feel incredible.”

His breath hitched at your words, and you could see the way they spurred him on. “I… I love this,” he gasped, his thrusts becoming more frantic, his confidence building with every word of praise you offered.

“You love making me feel good, don’t you?” you teased, your hips rolling against him as you encouraged him to go deeper. “I want to hear you say it.”

“I love making you feel good!” he exclaimed, his voice strained but filled with enthusiasm. The way he focused solely on your pleasure made you even more aroused, and you could feel the heat pooling low in your belly as you pushed him further.

“Good boy,” you praised, a sultry smile gracing your lips. “Now, tell me how much you want this.”

“I want it so bad,” he groaned, his hands gripping your hips tightly, his eyes locked on yours. “I want to make you come. I want to feel you around me.”

Your heart raced at his words, and you felt a rush of desire surge through you. “Then don’t hold back, Ethan. Show me just how much you want it.”

With a renewed sense of urgency, he began to thrust faster, his movements becoming more confident as he lost himself in the rhythm. Each thrust sent waves of pleasure crashing through you, and you couldn’t help but cry out, your body responding eagerly to his every movement.

“Yes! Just like that!” you moaned, your voice breathless as you leaned down closer, feeling his warm breath against your skin. “You’re doing amazing, Ethan. Keep going.”

He nodded, his expression one of pure concentration mixed with lust. “I’m going to make you feel so good,” he promised, his voice thick with desire. You could see the determination in his eyes, and it only made you want him more.

With every thrust, he grew bolder, and you could tell he was getting lost in the moment. The way he gazed at you—filled with awe and desire—only fueled your own excitement. “You’re so beautiful,” he breathed, his voice trembling as he lost himself in the pleasure. “I can’t believe I get to be with you like this.”

“Just focus on me,” you urged, your voice sultry and commanding. “Let yourself go. I want to feel you completely.”

His breaths grew ragged, and you could see the pleasure building in him, his movements becoming more frantic as he tried to keep up with your pace. “I’m so close,” he gasped, his voice thick with need. “I don’t want to stop. I want to feel you come with me.”

“Then don’t hold back, baby,” you said, your voice dripping with lust. “Come for me. I want to feel you inside me.”

With those words, you pushed him over the edge, feeling his body tense beneath you as he let out a deep, guttural groan, his hips bucking up into yours as he finally let go. The pleasure washed over you both, and you couldn’t help but cry out as you felt him fill you completely, your body trembling in response.

Ethan’s face was flushed with desire, his lips swollen and parted as he gasped for breath, and you couldn’t help but grin at the sight. He looked utterly gone, and it was the most intoxicating thing you’d ever seen. “You did so good,” you praised, your voice low and sultry as you leaned down, brushing your lips against his. “I knew you had it in you.”

As he came down from his high, a blissful smile spread across his face, and you felt a sense of pride and relief. Well that pining hadn’t been for nothing and you finally got your perfect boy.

Oh Mindy was gonna eat her fucking words.

I feel like I should make an Ethan taglist? Lmk if you would want to be on it!

[mncxbe]

bsd men and what they do for christmas

𝑫𝒂𝒛𝒂𝒊, 𝑪𝒉𝒖𝒖𝒚𝒂, 𝑭𝒖𝒌𝒖𝒄𝒉𝒊, 𝑺𝒊𝒈𝒎𝒂 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

𝑮𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: sfw/nsfw/ severe brainrot♡

𝑫𝒂𝒛𝒂𝒊 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

can I just start by saying that this man has never celebrated Christmas properly so he's so excited to spend time with you

Dazai prefers to keep things simple: homemade dinner and then watching a movie

you're supposed to open the presents in the morning but he isn't patient enough. the moment he sees them under the tree you so kindly decorated a few days ago he has the biggest smile on his face

"come on bella you don't seriously want to wait until morning. how could you do this to me? you know how curious I am"

you end up opening the gifts that night. he's gonna loves whatever you get him really but his heart literally melts if you knit him a scarf or write him a letter. dazai's a sucker for self-made gifts

the only appropriate way to show his gratitude is to bend you over and fuck you nice and slow, your face mushed in the cushy pillows on your shared bed as he takes you from behind

"there you go pretty girl. my, my I'm starting to think this pretty pussy of yours is my favourite gift so far"

you can bet he wears a santa hat

𝑪𝒉𝒖𝒖𝒚𝒂 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

he'd take you out to the most expensive restaurant in town for a proper meal

after that, if you find a rink that's open on Christmas eve he takes you ice skating (totally not an excuse for him to hold your hand)

once you get home you cuddle on the couch while watching a generic movie like Home Alone. it's always the classics I'm telling you

he has a fireplace!!! and insists on opening the gifts next to it

among other stuff, he gets you Christmas themed lingerie and makes you wear it in bed. cuz after all, you're the best gift he could ask for

forget about baking him sweets, the only dessert he wants is your pretty cunt. he's gonna eat you out for what seems like hours, making you cum on his tongue at least two or three times before he even thinks about fucking you

"shiit baby you look so pretty like this. you like it when I spoil you rotten don't ya? I bet you do- oh fuck yea cum f'me doll"

𝑭𝒖𝒌𝒖𝒄𝒉𝒊 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

hubby's busy even on holidays

he probably has to attend some obnoxious event and ofc you go as his plus one

he's gonna spend all evening sulking and complaining about how idiotic the whole party is

by the time you two get home he's too exhaused to do anything but you may be able to bribe him to stay awake for an hour or two with some gingerbread

can I just say he'd probably get you the nicest gifts? i'm 100% sure he has a good salary so he can afford whatever you want. expensive jewelery or skincare? sure, no problem. a stack of books with those pretty decorative covers? fine again

he probably gets a bit tipsy on mulled wine so be prepared to hear a silly yet lengthy love confession before bed

falls asleep before midnight but he's gonna make up for it in the morning if you catch my drift

𝑺𝒊𝒈𝒎𝒂 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

sweet baby's so anxious at first

he's never celebrated christmas before so he doesn't really know what to do. this whole idea is so new to him but he can't deny he loves spending time with you decorating the house

Sigma wants to try any tradition you may have; baking winter themed cookies, making crackers, watching a movie marathon

when it comes to gifts he doesn't really know what to get you so he ends up buying multiple things he thinks you'd like and he's so happy when you tell him you like them

cuddles cuddles cuddles all evening under a cushy blanket with a mug of hot chocolate in your hands

he'd look so cute wearing one of those reindeer headbands

if it's snowing, take him slow dancing in the snow or on a walk around town. he's gonna love the pretty christmas lights

[mikimakiboo]

Time Travelers AU - Bathroom Break

I am baaaaaaaack on the story ! For those who missed it I published everyone's backstory, all are linked in the master post !

@ancha-aus it's been a while since I tagged you here

First

Prev

Next

I feel like this chapter is way too short compared to the time it took me to write it

Here it was: the moment Dust dreaded the most... going back to work. Not that there was a problem with his job, his colleagues were fine, the customers were usually nice except for some exceptions, but it was to be expected when working in a fast food. No, the thing that worried him was leaving his roommates, because they were basically roommates, alone all day. He wasn't afraid they would fight, thought Nightmare had been quite distant these past few days, he didn't participate in conversations during meals and usually just translated for Killer and asked him a few things, but apart from that he always seemed moody, mad about something and avoiding them. It did worry Dust, maybe it was something he did, or didn't do, that caused the noble to change his behavior ? He'll need to talk about it with him. Regarding the others they all seemed to get along, he noticed Cross would sometimes lower his guard when Killer talked, or rather rambled, to him to listen to what he was saying, which was something important to note as the knight only ever left the door to eat, Dust knew it because he saw him sleeping while still standing. Horror was nice to everyone, just not paying much attention to Nightmare as he seemed to avoid him more than the others anyway, and Killer just liked to chat with everyone, not caring if they understood him or not. So no, Dust wasn't scared they would fight. He was scared they would get bored, get curious and break something or even hurt themselves, that someone would knock at the door and call the cops when seeing them, or many other things they could do that could result in troubles both for them and for Dust. He really didn't need that.

Dust sighed, preparing yet another burger and putting it in a bag for those at the drive through, he didn't need to think about it anymore, the movements were basically muscle memory at that point. Should he introduce the others to burgers ? Maybe he could order everyone a burger once he got his paycheck, and he could buy soda and potatoes to make the fries himself ? Would they even like it ? Nightmare would probably despise the grease, maybe Cross too as he seemed to be very in shape, but he had a feeling Killer and Horror would like it. Well, that could be a plan for later then.

He felt someone tap on his shoulder.

- Break time, I'm taking your place.

His colleague said. Was it already his break ? He didn't see the time pass, for once. Well, he usually didn't have much to think about, so he must admit he wasn't particularly focused on the time that day.

- Oh, okay, thanks.

He finished the burger he was making before putting down his apron and going to the changing rooms to grab his phone in his locker. He then went to the bathroom, not that he needed to go as he was a skeleton, but he liked sitting on the throne in his little cabin, that way he didn't have to sit in the staff's room and make small talk with the others, he could just scroll on his phone for fifteen minutes without being disturbed. He sometimes wished he had a digestive system so he could take a dump on company time and be paid for it, but he didn't have one, anything a skeleton consumed was either turned into magic or would get thrown up if the body couldn't "digest" it. What a shame, honestly.

He wondered for a moment if he should call home on the land-line, but he soon figured it would be useless as he didn't teach them how to pick up a phone, so he just hoped everything was fine and went on socials to see what new brainrot was available to pass the time.

His alarm went off after fifteen minutes, indicating the end of his break. He sighed.

- Alright, here we go again...

He muttered to himself, getting up without flushing, and opened the door to step out of the cabin. He tripped on a branch and fell face first on the grass.

Cross flinched, planting his sword in the ground as to maintain balance when he felt everything shift around him. The house had dissapeared, and he found himself in a field surrounded by a forest. It felt like a few days ago, when he appeared in Dust's backyard, he had felt the air sting and crackle before everything shifted, and when he opened his eyes, he was somewhere else.

Where was he now ? He pulled his sword from the ground, holding it tight in case a threat would appear, and looked around him, were the others here too ? He heard a noise behind him, and quickly turned, only to see Killer gripping on a branch, hanging from a tree. As he was about to run by his side he saw Horror coming out from behind a bush, leaves and twigs stucked in the furr of his coat. Killer saw him too.

- Horrooooooor ! Adiuvaaaaa ! He cried.

Horror jumped, not expecting to hear a voice above him, and quickly went to grab Killer and put him safely on the ground. The Roman then immediately opened his bag to make sure all of his stuffs were with him, and sighed in relief before looking up at the Viking.

- Gratis..

Horror nodded, then looked at Cross.

- Vel ?

He asked, thought Cross didn't understand, but he supposed Horror asked him if he was doing good, as he looked concerned. Cross was doing fine, he wasn't hurt and by chance landed on his feet and on a plain surface, unlike Killer who ended up in a tree.

- Eo vais ben, mercit.

He thanked him, before hearing a spine-chilling scream.

- Google noooooooo !!

All three of them turned quickly, startled, and saw Dust, a little farther, kneeling on the ground with his little magic rectangle in his hands, visibly distressed.

- Dust ? Killer called, bene facis ?

- Google's dead ! Dust cried out, holding his rectangle in the air, it's mort, morz, mortuus, liflátinn, dead !!

Cross froze, who was dead ? Who was so important that Dust had to announce their death in five languages ? Was his rectangle dead ? Wait, wasn't the rectangle what allowed them to communicate ? Oh. They might have a problem then.

They looked at each other for a minute, not knowing how to save the rectangle from death, before Killer went to the wheeping skeleton and kneeled before him, looking through his bag. Dust looked up at him when he took out the thick book Dust had been reading recently: the Old Norse dictionary. Cross remembered Killer shoving the book in his bag when Dust left without it, saying he would keep it safe until he returned. Dust looked at the dictionary in awe, taking it carefully.

- Oh my fucking god, Killer, I love you so much right now, gratis.. !

Killer smiled, happy to have been useful.

As Dust was getting up with Killer's help they heard a new noise, and as they turned, they were met with a rather unusual sight: Nightmare, the very sophisticated Nightmare, was laying face flat in a mud puddle, the only mud puddle in the whole field, and looked particularly horrified, and disgusted, when he stood on his elbows, his face covered with mud. Killer couldn't help but burst out with laughter, especially when Nightmare tried to get up only to slip and fall again. Cross heard Dust fight back his own laughter and Horror chuckled, but even if the scene was indeed funny, Nightmare trully looked distressed, and Cross couldn't leave him like that.

- Sire !

He rushed to his side, helping him up by letting him grab him for balance, not caring if he dirtied his armor as it was rather easy to clean.

- Vous trouvez cela amusant !? Nightmare yelled, angry, and shaking slightly, asking if they found it funny.

Horror raised his hands in an apalogy motion, but Killer was still pretty much dying on the ground, wheezing and holding his non-existant stomach, Dust simply avoiding his gaze. Nightmare huffed, a shameful blush on his cheeks as Cross helped him step out of the puddle and sit on a log nearby as he tried to wipe the mud from his face, taking his gloves off as they were just as muddy anyway.

- Estes-vos blecié, sire ? Cross asked, wanting to know if he was hurt.

Nightmare shook his head, he wasn't hurt, physically at least. Cross nodded, standing straight again to look at the others: Killer had stopped laughing and was now catching his breath, Dust was looking at their surroundings, and Horror was looking at Nightmare, thoughtful, but didn't come any closer.

Now that everyone was here, they needed to think of a plan. They needed to figure out where they ended up, or when, if they could seek shelter somewhere, or if they couldn't and would have to build a sort of nest at least for the night, what they could hunt or gather, take turn to stand guard, ... Horror didn't seem to have his axe with him, which was... rather inconvenient, but he was pretty sure Killer still had his knives in his bag so it meant they were at least two with weapons to defend the group. He looked down at Nightmare again. They had to find water.

He sighed and gestured to everyone to come closer. He would rather they didn't split up.

- Nos devons trover eaue, he said, glancing at Nightmare who was still staring at his hands, senz se séparer, he added, looking back at them.

- Okay wait, Dust stopped him, "eaue" means water, right ? I mean he does need to wash himself so it would make sense he needs water... wait I think I remember the translation... he thought for a while, looking throught the dictionary, okay so.. aqua for Latin ? Aaaand... vatn for Old Norse.

Killer snorted.

- Sordidus est, aqua eget.

Cross wasn't sure what that meant, but judging by Nightmare's glare it most likely was a mockery, or one of the Roman's usual tease at least. He wanted to reprimand him, now wasn't the time for teasing, but Horror was faster than him and gave Killer a gentle nudge on the shoulder, shaking his head disapprovingly, to which Killer whined but didn't push it. Horror then pointed at the woods.

- Vatn.

Before anyone could reply, he opened the way. He had fallen in a bush and heard running water in the distance when he got up, surely there was a river nearby.

- Wait wait wait ! Dust interrupted again, Horror stopping to look at him. We're just gonna accept that we apparently got tossed throught time ? I mean it ain't you guys first time but it is mine ! And I actually have to go back to work !

Cross frowned. Work ? He knew what work meant, but why was Dust talking about work ? Oh, right ! Dust was supposed to be at work ! But he couldn't get back to work now, they didn't even know in what time they were, but surely it wasn't Dust's time anymore as these strange buildings were nowhere to be seen. Cross shook his head, Dust couldn't go back to work for now.

- What do you mean no ? I need the money.

Cross thought for a while, trying to remember the translation for money, and shook his head again.

- Nos sommes denz une altre époque, pas de "work".

He tried to explain, telling him they were in a different time. Dust frowned at him, before sighing.

- Well it's gonna be one fucking long bathroom break then... He mumbled, before following Horror again.

Cross held out a hand for Nightmare but the noble got up by himself, and simply followed the others from a distance, Cross walking behind to make sure no one deviated from the line and no threat appeared.

After only a few minutes they heard running water, and at the next turn around a tree, they saw a small river. Nightmare went to kneel on the shore and put his hands in the water. Killer went next to him, crounching down, and ignoring Nightmare's glare to rummage through his bag and take out a piece of cloth that he handed him. Nightmare looked at it for a while before taking it without saying a word, still bitter that they laughed, and put it in the water to clean his face. Dust stayed near Horror, looking at the trees.

Cross stood back, watching them all, making sure everything was safe for them to stop here.

He really hoped they could find a shelter soon.

[ceilidho]

Hi crazy Johnny with a single mam anon back because im insane and have brainrot and am seriously contemplating writing it bcus i feel compelled by the power of Christ (Johnny’s cock) to write something pervy and nasty and creepy but ultimately sweet but im also just braindumping and sharing bcus not enough johnny content floating around I fear so have to pull up my bootstraps and do it myself (this is so long ceil im so very sorry)

anyways so I think this is sooo much hotter if Johnny is either on a prolonged medical discharge or he’s been forced into retirement for one reason or another (because then can keep an eye on you lol) he and like this has been touched on before but he’s just got. nothing to fucking do. And holy hell he’s going crazy. He needs something to do. So his silly, terribly adjusted brain latches onto the poor single mam next door who DEFINITELY needs his help.

Im a sucker for forced codependency. You, who thinks you’re doing great on your own, versus ‘can’t handle this all on yer own, eh little lass?’ Johnny MacTavish. He’s SO fucking subtle about it. Commenting on how hard it must be to have to raise a baby all your own, and gods love you just look knackered here let me take the bairn for a bit. He comes round and makes little comments about your house being messy (disorganised, but not messy) and immediately starts ‘sympathising’ because you just mustn’t have time to clean up but it’s important to keep hazards out the way of the baby, here he’ll *help*.

Never questions your ability as a mother, god no, just slyly drops suggestions that you’re not coping as well as you thought. And it fucking NAGS at you. And eventually, you start going to Johnny more and more for help. I honestly think he would cause problems in your flat (fixable ones, like fucking up the electrics or messing around with the pipes but stuff he knows he can fix) so you either have to A. Move in with him temporarily or B. Have to ask him to fix them. Eventually just says that your landlords a cunt for letting you live in a shithole and insists you just move in with him permanently. You do (it’s not really up for debate).

He doesn’t use condoms. I’m sorry he just doesn’t, but he will TELL you that he does- especially the first time you have sex. You’re all worried because ‘oh god Johnny I’m not on birth control I just put it off after I had the baby and we didn’t use a condom-‘ and he’s immediately tucking you into his chest and stroking your hair and shushing you ‘divvint be daft lass, course i wrapped it up, stupid thing just broke. Did ye not realise? Must’ve been heat o’ the moment, don’t worry yer little heed about it alright? Johnny’s here.” and kisses you on your hair and lulls you into sleep. Adamantly denies whispering about how pretty you’re gonna look pregnant as if he’s trying to subliminal you into pregnancy. lol.

Will legally adopt your baby. Like he’ll suggest it, straight up. And you’re probably a bit taken aback because it’s only been six months but he is insistent. This is probably the catalyst for his ‘im the biological dad’ delusions. Once he’s down as the father he’s actually losing his mind a little. Can imagine Simon or Gaz popping round to check up on Johnny on their next leave and suddenly he has a family and they’re actually a little concerned because when Gaz makes a comment about the baby’s being cute Johnny’s like ‘Yeah we did a good job, didn’we lass?” and between the two of them there’s just silence because johnny this is not your baby but they can see that slightly deranged look in his eyes. Defo asks about all the heavy details of your pregnancy and labour and the first few months so he can pretend like he was actually there for it and will talk about it as if he were actually there (extra bonus points if Gaz actually pulls you aside in the kitchen and asks about Johnny’s behaviour and tells you to be careful LMAO).

So yeah anyways.

PLEASE WRITE THIS IM BEGGING YOU!!!!!! im screaming at that last bit i need this so bad please......i don't ask for much but i swear to god please write this for me. this idea was designed in a lab to inflict the maximum amount of psychic damage on me. please write this and i will happily beta/edit it for you if you need any help omg

[rzyraffek]

Guys I suffer from jojo brainrot, I know its not my usual writing , but I need to get this out of my system. NO SPOILERS they/them pronouns, sfw, Request open

Also for obvious (and legal) reasons in josuke and okayasu ones reader is like 16.

Also I didnt finish jojo part4 yet so some stuff might be eee not accurate?

More jjba dating headcanons!!

Including Kars, Santana, young Joseph, Jonathan, Josuke, Speedwagon, Okuyasu

Kars

Homie will litteraly pet them. My guy has god complex, thinks that humans are so so smol and so so tiny

Picks them up like some lil baby and probably carries them around everywhere

S/o mostly just vibes in his huge mansion while Kars plots some evil emo stuff (again)

Quick reminder that this guy was doing ah mimimimi ah mimimimimi😴 for last few centuries so s/o has to explain him a lot of stuff

Imagine him getting jumpscared bcs your phone made a noise, or him just walking up to light switch and turing lights on and off repeatedly. Mans fascinated

Also guy is a walking muscle so no matter how big or smol s/o is they going to be picked up and carried around, probably he uses only one hand too btw

Pls brush his hair he will litteraly melt

Santana

...

"Human why you carry tiny talking square everywhere? Is it magical?"

My guy will take their phone and 'accidently' take 50selfies, but not in sexy way, but in 'his face is zoomed to camera and you see only his eyes and forehead' way

His love language is quality time, understanding and gifts

Hates germans btw

Will give them random stuff, like he will litteraly bring them a microwave and be like "human explain meaning of this". But also gives them shiny rocks, jewellery, hair accessories. If s/o wants a new car, my man gonna litteraly pick up first car he sees and bring it to them

I am convinced he eats food with his bare hands. S/o has to give him tutoral how to use knife and fork, he won't like it >:(

Young Joseph

Homeboy hands are everywhere, if my guy doesn't hold their hand, he is putting his hands on s/o shoulders or waist or just kisses them

Doing make-up together. And nails. And hair. All of this while shittalking his enemies and talking about all the drama.

Tequila Joseph first dragqueen in history btw

Never go on plane with him, no matter how romantinc he promises it will be. Do not

Also makes fun of Ceasar that Joseph was the first one to find a partner not him😍

S/o and Ceasar probably meet up sometimes to just complain about how dumb Joseph sometiems is😭

Will litteraly do anything to impress them frfr

Jonathan

Not boyfriend, but Husband material

My guy will be on walk with his homie speedwagon and litteraly act like teenager girl with crush. All blushy, shy and asking for advices

Gives them handfuls of flowers, but like Jonathan's sized handful (alot)

Loves walking with s/o and holding hands ofc

My boy will blush and die if s/o does first move

Pls s/o beat dio up he sucks

The best boy husband

Josuke

Bros gonna be so protective, like fr my guy will be worried if s/o goes to shop and doesn't come back in more than 20minutes

He will blush if s/o tries to hold his hand

Mumbles a lot about hair routine and hair products, and probably likes to comb s/o hair

Okayasu probably cried when he found out that Josuke has a partner btw

The sweetest boy alive

Guy will accidentally spoil them. Also they are basicly immortal due to all crazy daimon stuff

If s/o sees stands... OMG PLS pls hug his lil man, his stand i mean. It looks very hugable

Playing video games when s/o and josuke lied to his mom that you came over to teach him some school stuff>>

Okuyasu

This dude

This guy

Will litteraly beat anyone up, for no reason anyways. He just do be like that.

He is very dumb, please be patient

Isn't romantic, he tries to act cool and tough, but he is unintentionally cute! Like he will go to s/o house in middle of day, knock on door and he like "sup babygrill I bought you some ice cream"

If you guys play any kind of competitive game he might let them win! But he never tell them that of course

Also he is very physical, but not in romantic/sexy way but in 'dub me up homie/sup give me high five' hes very bromance. he also enjoys just leaning on them, like yall just stand waiting for bus and this dude will put like half his body weight on them

Once he had a nightmare and called them at 3am

Speedwagon

Btw sorry that characters are all over place and not organised, I am sleeby

My guy will shank anyone for you babe

Talks, a lot. So if s/o is a listener type, they will get along well

Goes to Jonathan and asks for advices about relationships!

S/o steals his hat and he pretends that he's offended, but pls dont stop you look cute!

My guy is very very...unorganised... total mess of a men if it comes to life. I dont even know if he has a house btw

Cuddles on couch when he's sure that noone is around>>>

Will read them to bed if that helps s/o fall asleep

He has poor eyesight but he doesnt wear glasses. Bonk him pls

[reiderwriter]

Hi :) I've never requested before and am a little embarrassed to be here. But I'm also in my Spencer Reid Brainrot era and am a fan of your writing! I was thinking something with a virgin female reader who is genophobic (specifically fear of vaginal penetration, in her case) and Spencer helps her work through her fear and try something new? She doesnt need to have trauma, just the phobia. Either BAU or non BAU reader is fine, just as long as they aren't initially dating and there is a slow build up to the intimacy. Also, could it be race-blind? (e.g "I could see she was embarrassed" instead of "her cheeks turned pink") Fluff, smut, and mutual pining. Ack, please it would make my MONTH!!

-❤️‍🩹

A/N: I really hope I did this one justice!! It was fun to research and write and ahhh the slow burn (which was definitely a lot faster than it should have been if I had more time 🫣 sorry). I hope you like it!

W/C: 5k

Warnings: Genophobia (fear of sexual intimacy), panic attack, heavy petting, oral (F receiving), virgin reader, inexperienced Spencer, two idiots in love again, vaginal sex, fingering, contraception actually used! Mainly soft and sweet sex 😊

Find my masterlist here! Get ready for kinktober with me here!

It was your worst nightmare come true.

You’d had a crush on Spencer for the last three years, working with him in the BAU since Elle had left. You’d joined the team alongside Emily and immediately become enamored with the boy genius, and how could you not? He was smart, and handsome, and most importantly, he respected boundaries.

But here he was in front of you, probably saying the words that you most wanted to hear from him, but he was so close, your heart was beating uncomfortably in your chest, your breath short and your eyes hazy and unfocused for all the wrong reasons.

“Just… If you don’t feel the same, I understand and I’ll never mention it again, but if there’s any chance that you.. That you love me the same way I love you, please tell me.” He had you boxed in against the wall, not touching you exactly, but so close you could feel his breath on your neck, could see the desperation in his eyes as he poured his heart out to you.

The man of your dreams was confessing his love to you, and you were on the verge of a panic attack at his attention.

“Spencer, I have to go,” you gasped out, grasping your chest as you begged your lungs to start working again, as you begged your mouth to stay and explain. But the tears were burning in the corners of your eyes and you had to run from the intimacy of the moment. “I have to... I’m sorry, Spencer, I can’t…” You didn’t get any other words out before you bolted out the door, desperate to find a bathroom stall to cry in. You weren’t sure if the tears were from the very real fear you’d just confronted or the realization that you’d probably just ruined your chances with Spencer Reid.

–X–

A week later, and the awkward tension between the two of you hadn’t dissipated. You wanted to explain yourself, of course, you did, but with the hurt look on Spencer’s face shooting through you every time you were at the other end of his gaze, combined with the absolute fear of being known and judged, you had guiltily kept your mouth shut.

The rest of the team had noticed, of course. The two of you were sending pining looks after one another whenever the other had their back turned, even when preoccupied with a prolific highway murderer, the team would be blind not to see it. Unfortunately for you, the members of the BAU weren’t the ones to let the tension go unconfronted, so you found yourself in increasingly solitary situations, alone but for the company of Spencer himself.

You’d been assigned to work the geographical profile with Spencer, despite usually working alongside Hotch, more used to comforting and interviewing families than analyzing charts and maps. The opportunity to explain had been handed to you on a silver platter, and you had to take it.

“Spencer, can we talk?” You blurted the words out after an unbearably long silence, having watched the man read case file after case file while you distractedly bumbled along beside him.

He paused and gave a small nod, bringing his head up, but not quite meeting your gaze.

“When you… When you said those things last week, did you mean them?”

“I don’t say things I don’t mean, Y/N.” The words were tense, but his voice was soft, his eyes holding a resigned look.

“I’m sorry... I’m sorry, shit, everything I say is going to sound like an excuse but I’m so sorry…” you rambled, trying to work up the courage to say what you actually wanted to.

“You don’t have to apologize for not feeling the same way I do. It’s okay, I know I’m not the easiest person to love and-”

“You are. You are, Spencer, don’t even think that you are the problem here, because you are not.” You gasped for breath as you pushed the words out unexpectedly, surprising even yourself with the conviction of your tone.

“I love you, Spencer, I do, I just…” You blinked back the tears again as your voice suddenly became a whisper.

“You know when we talked about our… our fears a few weeks back? And I said that I didn’t have anything specific that came to mind?” He listened attentively as you stuttered out the words.

“I lied. When… people get close to me, and when they get close to me in a way that specifically suggests that… suggests that they like me the way you like me, my chest gets tight, and I can’t breathe. Spencer, I’m… I’m scared of sex.”

You let the confession hang in the air between you, almost afraid to look up and see the sympathetic look in Spencer’s eyes. But you had to eventually, and you were surprised.

The man wasn’t even looking at you, and his expression couldn’t even be described as concerned, let alone empathetic.

“Spencer? Did you hear what I said?” He looked up and smiled at you, keeping his distance still, but opening up to you, facing you with open body language, putting all his attention on you without moving even an inch closer.

“Genophobia. Y/N, you’re describing Genophobia. It’s the fear of physical intimacy that often stems from a fear of pain during sexual intimacy or from physical symptoms, such as Vaginosis. Y/N, you don’t hate me.” His grin widened, and you let out a little laugh at the hopeful look on his face as he breathed out that last statement.

“No, no Spencer, I couldn’t hate you.”

“Good, because I thought I’d taken it too far… Nevermind. Y/N, is… is this something you want to work through?” His tone was cautious, and you were touched by the seriousness he was approaching with. Your previous boyfriends had mocked you when you explained why you couldn’t have sex with them, few as they may have been. You’d never been treated with such gentleness.

“Yes. I really want to work through it, but… Spencer, it might take a long time. Is that okay?” He considered your question for a minute, then replied with his own.

“Y/N, can I lean in and kiss your cheek, please? I won’t touch you anywhere else, I just want…please?” You felt a warmth bubbling under your cheeks at the situation, your tongue growing thick in your mouth, not allowing you to respond. You opted for a small nod instead, watching his every move as he slowly moved in.

Placing his hands on the table, he lifted himself up from his chair, keeping them firmly planted there so you could see that he wasn’t going to initiate anything further. His lips finally hit your cheek, and your heart started beating in that familiar way that it usually did, but you forced yourself to hold still until he pulled away. He did so quickly.

“Y/N, I don’t care how long it takes you to be comfortable with me. I’m just happy you chose me.” He finished, then grabbed a file and exited the room, leaving you alone again to calm your heart and un-fog your brain.

–X–

The case closed a few days later, but you didn’t have another chance to talk to Spencer anymore about your relationship, being so caught up in serving justice to the families of the victims. But as Friday approached, your job was finished, an unsub handed over to the authorities ready for prosecution, and you could finally fly back home.

Which is how you found yourself, on the last evening of the work week, pacing outside of his apartment, freaking out about whether you should knock or not. You’d held your hand up to knock a few times, but ultimately let it fall to your side, cursing your cowardice. It was just a door. He was just a man. A man who really cared about you. A man who wanted you. That thought should have had you jumping into his arms at every given opportunity, instead, it was causing heart palpitations at the thought of knocking on a door.

In the end, you didn’t have to knock.

“Y/N, what are you doing here?” You heard his voice from behind you as you jumped in place, startled by the fact that he was actually there.

“Shit, Spencer, don’t do that, you scared me.” You grabbed your chest and took a deep breath. He stood still, waiting for your answer to his previous question.

“I was just… Can I come in?”

“Oh. Oh, yeah of course, here let me…” His words trailed off as he grabbed his keys from his pocket, fumbling them slightly as he struggled to get the key into the door.

“Take a seat wherever you… Can, I guess? Sorry, I was doing some reading before I left.” He smiled awkwardly as you walked into the space, and you giggled a little at the confession, seeing that there was really only one open space on the couch left for you to occupy without having to perch awkwardly on the arm of the chair.

You took the seat, moving a single book onto a stack on the sofa next to you, and watched the man as he took off his scarf and coat, storing them and then awkwardly turning back to the couch. He looked around for a place to sit, and, coming to the same conclusion as you did, chose to perch himself on the opposite arm of the sofa to you.

“Oh, Spencer, this is your house, you should sit comfortably.”

“No, you’re a guest, it’s fine. I want you to feel comfortable. What did you want to talk about?” He cleared his throat a little and then turned his eyes back to you, signaling that he was ready to listen attentively.

“Oh…. I was hoping…. Spencer, can you touch me?” You saw his face flush at your suggestion, and your eyes widened at your own foolish wording.

“Shit, not like that. Not that I don’t want you to touch me like that, but I think it’s too soon, and I’m still not comfortable with that. I was just hoping that you could, you know, hold me for a while, like a hug or something?” You rambled it all out, and you could hear yourself rambling but you couldn’t stop it. The words dropped from your mouth before you could even think about stopping them, and you felt the blood rush to your head as you cringed slightly at the situation.

“Okay.”

“Okay? You’re…. You’re okay with that?” You asked, looking hopefully up at Spencer.

“Do you want to sit together, or were you thinking something else?” You jumped up from your seat then, and glanced around the room as you considered his words.

“Oh, um, sitting together would be good I suppose?” He nodded and lifted himself up from the arm, moving closer to you.

“I’m going to sit here, you should probably just join me when you want to, okay?” He whispered the words with a tender smile on his face, and you felt some of the tension in your shoulders disappear. It was incredible that he could do that with a simple smile, that with one glance he could relax your whole body enough to let you push yourself to the limits of your fear.

You gained some confidence, and after letting him get settled in the seat you had just vacated, you moved to straddle his lap. You heard his sharp intake of breath as you wrapped your arms up around his neck, nervously wondering if what you were doing was right.

“Is this okay for you, Y/N?” He asked, stuttering through the words as he struggled to stay focused on you.

“It’s okay now. I want to push myself a little.” You ran your hands down his arms, which had so far lain politely still on the sofa beside him before you pulled them around yourself, letting the hug deepen. He was warm, and between the two of you, you weren’t sure whose heartbeat was louder. You could hear both of them, the room totally still except for your breaths and blinks.

“Y/N, can I… can I kiss you?”

“Yes.” You whispered the word in a voice so small, you were sure he hadn’t heard it, as his head crept towards you so slowly you were sure he wasn’t moving. Eventually, you felt his breath on your skin more, and then his lips were softly pressing against your own, the pressure gentle, not demanding any more than what you were currently giving him.

You melted into it, pushing yourself further into his warmth, your chests now pressed together as he languidly moved his lips against yours, claiming them again and again and again. You kept pushing and pushing into him, growing more sloppy in your kisses, grabbing onto the back of his sweater with two desperate fists, needing him close.

It wasn’t until your hips bucked involuntarily in his lap, unconsciously demanding friction that you began to panic once again, immediately pulling your lips and torso out of his reach.

“Shit, I’m sorry, I can’t… it’s… shit it’s not you, Spencer. God, I’m such an idiot.” You pulled your hands over your eyes, embarrassed at the thought of being seen by him right then, but still firmly seated in his lap.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he said, pulling your hands away from your face with a gentle touch. “It’s okay, Y/N. We don’t have to do anything you aren’t comfortable with.” You nodded at his words and took a few more minutes to compose yourself.

“Can we…can we just cuddle for a while? Like this?” You asked, and his smile instantly became bright.

“I would love to. Let’s move some of these books though.” You shifted the books quickly and then fell back into his lap, his body now laying more vertically than before, stretching out into the larger space now available on the couch. You pushed your head into his chest, listening to his heartbeat, following it with your own, and letting it be the soundtrack to your descent into sleep.

–X–

Waking up in his arms was a life-changing experience. Sometime during your sleep, he had carried you to his bed, letting you sleep soundly as he made you more comfortable. He hadn’t taken any of your clothes off, of course, just removed your shoes and made sure you were warm enough in the skirt and blouse you had been wearing.

Your position had changed, too, and it was one of the first things you noticed as you blinked your eyes open, trying to rid them of sleep as you greeted the new day. Instead of being below you, he was behind you, pressed against you with a hand wrapped around your waist, pulling you into him like a child clutching a favored toy.

“Spence,” you whispered through a grin. “Spencer, wake up.” You turned your head around to him, but he moaned in his sleep, not wanting to leave his rest just yet. You giggled at his childlike petulance, trying to shift around to face him, but his grip was too tight. Pushing against him, you felt something, hard, pushing against your back. You shifted again, but it was still there, and it took you only a few more seconds to figure out what it was.

“Shit, Spencer, wake up,” your tone probably sounded more frantic than you felt, as it woke him quickly now, his body releasing yours enough to let him pull himself up, taking stock of the room as he looked around searching for what had panicked you.

“What is it, are you okay?” He returned his eyes to your face, but your gaze had slipped down his body, and through the much looser fitting sweatpants he’d thrown on at some point during the night, you could see the outline of his cock.

Curiously, the very sight didn’t have you bolting, as it had in situations in the past. You had frozen, of course, but you weren’t filled with as much dread as you had been only a few days prior with his confession.

“Fuck, Y/N, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to do that, it’s a biological reaction and… well it’s not purely biological, I do really have feelings for you, but I don’t want you to feel pressured, and… Let me go and get rid of this.” He moved to stand, but you grabbed his arm before he could completely pull away, his hand still resting on your waist.

“Wait… Could we continue from where we were last night?” You looked up at him, the embarrassment of your words sending a rush of adrenaline through your body, almost forcing you to take them back immediately.

“You… you want that?” For the second time in 24 hours, a whispered ‘yes’ was all it took to have him crash his lips into yours. The pressure was the same, but with his body hovering over yours, it felt even more intimate. His hands rubbed small reassuring circles on your hips, as you opened up to him, wanting to pull the full force of his weight down onto you.

His hand fell to your face as he encouraged you to open your mouth to his tongue, letting him explore it thoroughly as he lazily worked his mouth against your own. There was no fight for dominance here, just two people deeply exploring the feeling of one another, so wrapped up in the pleasure that no other thoughts could cross your minds. Not even that of fear.

He pulled away for a breath, and your lips trailed him, trying to capture him again and force him back to you, but he evaded you softly.

“Y/N, can I try something? I want to touch you…more. Is that okay?” You were so desperate for the feeling of his lips against yours again that you moaned out the yes before you even processed his words. His lips fell back against yours, but his weight shifted above you as his right hand trailed down your leg and then back up underneath your skirt.

The touch was so delicate that you shivered under the attention, but you felt your heart start beating faster and faster as he got closer to your center. He asked you once again, and you agreed before he finally touched you through the safety of your panties.

You moaned into the kiss as he cupped you, letting his thumb fall to your clit and beginning to explore you more. He swallowed each and every sound you made with his lips, committing every move you made, every reaction to memory. You grew more pliable under all his attentions, growing comfortable in reacting to his every movement, letting him control the pace and flow of your shared caresses. A heat was growing at the depth of your stomach, and you knew it was coming.

Your brain finally kicked back into gear as your orgasm washed over you, your eyes jolting open as he released your mouth, the breathless moan that erupted from you causing your entire body to tense up. You pushed him away, and clutched your chest, scrambling up into a seated position as he quickly noted the change in your body language, letting you out of his grip.

You struggled to get your breathing out of control, desperately searching for a way out, an excuse, or anything to say to make you feel better, but you came up blank.

“I’m sorry… I’m really…” You couldn’t force out any other words before you jumped out of his bed and bolted out of the apartment, having ruined everything again for the second time.

–X–

Another week ticked by before you knew it, and you still hadn’t talked to Spencer since he’d pushed you over the edge. The fact that he hadn’t tried to talk to you either had you convincing yourself that it meant whatever you shared was over now.

It was a nice feeling to share, but you couldn’t keep it up forever, just like you hadn’t been able to in any of your previous relationships. But there was something about Spencer that you didn’t want to give up on, so you didn’t.

You spent the week looking up advice on how to deal with your fear, booking appointments with Sex Therapists, and, to put it kindly, getting your body used to the idea of sexual interaction. You bought a small vibrator a day or two after you slept over at his house, nothing that would enter you, just something to play with to increase your confidence as you prepared yourself to apologize to him.

But despite all of your efforts, the tension was still running high in the team as they all noticed the sudden disconnect between you and your maybe-boyfriend.

So, with the newly discovered commitment to self-improvement, you found yourself at his door again on another Friday night, this time confidently knocking at the first attempt.

“Y/N, you’re here.” He said, mouth hanging open slightly as his unasked question hung in the air.

“I wanted to talk. About everything.”

“Sure, come in, come in.” He shut the door behind you, and you didn’t bother walking further than the entryway before you started again, not wanting to lose your conviction.

“Spencer, I want you to make love to me. I freaked out last time, and I ran away, and that was so shitty of me, but I think I’m ready now - I went to see this therapist and she gave me some advice, and I’ve been… I’ve been touching myself so I can get myself used to the idea of someone else touching me. And you’re the only person who I want to touch and to touch me, and you’re everything I’ve been thinking about, and I don’t want you to avoid me anymore or think this isn’t going anywhere.” You were almost breathless as you finished, having let your sentences blur into one, not bothering to pause in your exploration.

“Oh, thank god,” Spencer said, wrapping his hands around you suddenly, pulling you to him with a strength you didn’t know he had. “Well, not thank god that you want to have sex with me, thank god that I didn’t push it too far. I thought you hated me after last time, I thought I was trying to selfishly get you to open up too quickly, and I felt so bad about it.” He rambled just the same as you had, not letting go of you for all the world.

“You know, I’ve checked out like 50 books on sexual psychology from the University library this week, I was afraid the librarian was going to call the police on me for creepy behavior or something.” He laughed into you, letting his head drop to your shoulder as he held you comfortably.

“Spencer, that is so sweet.” You felt the sugar in your grin, knowing that this unabashed happiness wasn’t going away anytime soon, any negative feelings at being held this closely dissipating when faced with the love of his actions.

“I’m going to ask again, is that okay?” You nodded at his boyish grin, and he grinned down at you fondly.

“Y/N, may I kiss-” You didn’t let him finish, pushing yourself up on your toes to lock your lips with his before he could.

“Yes. Always yes.” You said releasing him, foreheads resting together.

“I know, but I like to ask.” His lips were on you again then, as he walked you back through his apartment, not stopping once to release your lips. Before you knew it, he was picking you up, and gently returning you to the bed you’d bolted from the week before.

He released you for a breath, and you pushed your top up and off, throwing it to the ground as he stared at you like you had personally each and every star in the sky.

“You’re amazing. I’m so proud of you.” He mumbled the words into your skin, before letting his hands once again fall under your skirt, beginning to massage your ass with a firm but still loving embrace. He pulled you against him again, your kisses becoming more and more needy as you felt him grow against you, with each stroke of his tongue forcing your hips to rub together deliciously.

“You know,” he spoke slowly, letting his lips fall down your neck and chest. “All of the literature I read suggested that foreplay was a good way to combat Genophobia. The more prepared you are for the actual sexual act, the less you worry about the ‘pain’ of it all.”

“What are you saying, Spencer?” You whispered, your heart beating fast, but not in an uncomfortable way anymore.

“I’m saying I want to make you feel good. Can I?” His lips had reached your skirt then, and he said the words as his head rested against your thigh, hands slowly pushing your legs wider and wider.

You nodded, and he dived in, at first licking through your underwear as you moaned and writhed underneath him. His hands worked the panties down your legs as he kissed your inner thighs, pushing your skirt up and over your hips so you could watch his every move.

“Fuck Spencer,” you ground into his face again as he returned his tongue to your now soaking hole, desperately chasing the pleasure of his attention. You’d had the time to explore this week, obviously, but it was nothing like this. Every kiss, every suck, every lick, spoke a thousand words to his devotion to you, his love being pressed into you from between your legs. You didn’t know it could be like this. You didn’t think it would be with anyone who wasn’t him.

“Spencer, I can feel it…. Spencer, don’t stop.” You worked a hand into his hair and shamelessly bucked into him now, you high hitting you just like you knew it would. If the first time had been a surprise, this time had been an inevitability. You felt him keep up his ministrations, letting you ride out the full wave of pleasure. When he finally pulled away, he looked into your eyes for confirmation that everything he’d done was okay. Moving a hand to wipe your arousal from his mouth, you stopped him mid-motion and pulled him back on top of you, wrapping your tongue around his own and delighting in the taste of his success.

“Let’s keep going,” you said softly into his ear, and he moaned his approval, before quickly divesting himself of his pants and grabbing a condom from his bedside table.

“Morgan got me a pack of these at Christmas, as a joke, y’know,” he laughed, kissing down your neck again, paying special attention to the few spots darkening to splashes of red.

“Not the time, Spencer,” you laugh at him, and he squeaks out an apology before lining himself up with you.

“You’re sure this is what you want?” He asks, a concerned look plastered on his face, and you pull him down for one short tender kiss before answering again.

“I have never been so sure of any decision I have made in my life, as I am sure about you.” He pressed a kiss to your lips in thanks and then slowly began to fill you up.

There was a small panic in the back of your mind, but he kissed praise into your skin, replacing all of your negative thoughts with nothing but his words, his actions, his love. You relaxed as he stretched you out, not moving his hips but letting his hand return between your legs to help you further adjust to the newness of it all.

You saw a panicked look fall across his face as he kissed away small tears that fell from your eyes, each a small apology for the pain, the confusion of your mixed emotions, but you just laughed his concern away.

“Happy tears, Spencer. They’re happy tears.” He laughed with you then, and with one last seeking out of your approval, you began to move together. His thrusts were slow, lavishing you with attention, letting you feel all of him as his body sought your pleasure. Your legs wrapped around him, unable to stop the desperate need to buck up, up, up with each of his downward strokes.

You were a mess of limbs and kisses, neither of you experienced enough to know how to do anything past what felt good, what felt natural, and you spent your time together like that, giggling with each chaste kiss, moaning and sighing as you both worked your way up to an ecstatic release.

Falling down on top of you after you came together, Spencer didn’t pull out, holding you somehow closer than before as you both let the oxygen return to your lungs.

“I love you,” he whispered into your lips.

“I love you,” you whispered back.

Yes, it was not going to be like that with anyone else. And you didn’t want anyone else at all, now that you finally had him.

[ukit4m4]

★┆ “Bi-Han is definitely the type of guys that doesn't go only for 1 round.“

FEM READER / HUSBAND!BIHAN / NOT A REQUEST

- Warning(s) : full NSFW short fic, multiple rounds, a bit of struggling, br33ding for a couple times, SLOWBURN NSFW, fingering. THIS ISN'T R///PE. HIS WIFE IS JUST ULTRA SENSITIVE PLZ DON'T CANCEL ME GRAHHH🙏🏻🙏🏻

- Writer's note : I'm having so much husband!bihan brainrot bare with me also it's my first time writing a long fic so erm yea ignore typos. reblogs are very appreciated!!! Core means the thing between your legs. your welcome.

Bi-Han enters their shared room, noticing that his wife isn't in there, and the bathroom's water running. She's probably taking her usual random night shower. Bi-Han sighs, and goes to takes his gears off. He'd place them on the table, and his wife walks out of the bathroom, a bit startled of his presence.

"Oh, Bi-Han. You're home early," She says. Bi-Han didn't meet her gaze, already knowing she's only covered in her shower towel. "Hn," Bi-Han huffs, and took off his uniform, revealing his under dark blue shirt. His wife shrugs, already used to his dismissal. She then goes to her closet to pick a pajama.

Bi-Han looks into his mirror, which shows a reflection of himself and his wife, behind him, at her closet, searching for an outfit. His jaw clenched, seeing how the towel wraps around her small waist. Her hair is slightly damp, probably because she took some time drying it in the bathroom. Bi-Han could feel the painful stiffness against his pants' fabric.

Bi-Han then turns around, walking up to his wife. "Y/N." He called out. His wife turns around. "Huh?" Bi-Han then reach out, turning her around and straight up kissing her. His wife's eyes widened, not used to this.. kind of gesture. Bi-Han deepened the kiss, one of his hand on her waist, another on her hip.

Bi-Han then breaks the kiss, trailing his lips to her neck, a sensitive spot, that is. His wife whimpers lowly, hand rested on his back. "Wha-" She was about to ask a question when Bi-Han cuts it off. "No questions. I just want you for the night, wife." Bi-Han says sternly.

With a swift motion, Bi-Han would take off the towel off his wife's body, revealing her whole body for his eyes only. "Relax," Bi-Han says, noticing her squirms. She's probably nervous. "I am." She replied. Bi-Han kissed her again, pressing his body against her so that she could feel his hardness.

His hand from her waist leaves the spot, then trails down to her core. He then started to rub her clit surprisingly gently. She gasps, squirming even more. "B- Bi-Han-" She mumble, while one of his finger made it's way inside her slowly. "Sshhh,.." Bi-Han coo, his eyes focused on her core.

His finger that's inside his wife is cold, making her squirms even more against the wall. He then starts stroking her walls, making her whimper softly. His hand on her hip moves, pushing her head gently to his chest so that her whimper is slightly muffled. Her back arches, and he added another finger. His pace fastens, making her melt into him.

"Let it go. Cum for me," He commanded. After a few hard and fast thrust, the damp broke, and she reached her climax, shuddering slightly. Bi-Han's fingers slowed, but didn't stop. After he prolongs her climax as long as possible, he finally stops and slowly pulls out. He pulled his wife away, and kissed her deeply. "Good girl." He murmurs against her lip.

Suddenly, Bi-Han picked her up, and brought her to the bed. He placed her head against the pillow, and he looms above her. "You're mine, and I'll take you anytime and anywhere I want too," Bi-Han whispers against her ears as he continues kissing her jaw and his hands roams around her body. Bi-Han then unzips his pants, pulling it off. He then pulls his shirt off.

Oh shit, he's big. Her wife let out a half-whimper half gasp, squirming in place. "What?" Bi-Han raised an eyebrow, positioning himself between her legs. "W- Will it even fit..?" His wife asked nervously. Bi-Han groans lowly, kissing the crook of her neck. "Of course it will. I'll make it fit," He smirks against her skin. He leaned forward, kissing her once again as he eased himself inside her slowly.

She gasp into the kiss, and his tip gave her cervix a little kiss. Her legs jolts. Bi-Han breaks the kiss. "You're alright." It's not a question, but a statement. He then starts moving. Her legs are pulled over by his hands, making it easier for him to thrust into her. "A- Ahn.. sl- slow down, Bi- Bi-Han-.." She pleaded between moans. He heard it, but instead, his pace quickens.

To add more flavors, his head leans down, catching one of her nipple into his mouth. His tounge would swirl around it, making her gasp and shudders even more. He left the nipple with a pop, quickening his pace once again. "You're mine, aren't you? I'll make you really really mine tonight," He'd murmur, she reached her climax once again, and her walls clinches around him.

He smirked when he felt and heard her gasp, his climax following behind too. Finally, he'd bury himself deep inside her, grinding against her as he let himself go deep into her. She could feel the warmness(?) inside her. She pants, thinking that Bi-Han is already satisfied. She already hit climax twice, so her core is really sensitive.

Bi-Han's breath also turns slightly ragged, and he also seems flustered. But, he made no move of pulling out. "You're mine now. There's a piece of me inside you, forever." Bi-Han says. He then kissed her, suddenly starts to move again. His wife gasps into the kiss, her legs jolting slightly. She squirms, back arching and all. "Relax." He commands.

"Ng- Ngh..~ Bi- Bi-Han- I can't-.." She mumble against his lips. Bi-Han pulled away, but didn't stop. "Yes, you can." He says, quickening his pace. His finger then goes to one of her nipple again, pinching and playing with it surprisingly gently. His wife moaned sweetly, music to his ears. She felt so good, too good. Oh, god. She never thought her possesive, cold and arrogant husband could make her feel like this.

"I- I'm— cumming..!" She moaned. "Go on." Bi-Han replied. His fingers left her nipple, then goes to her clit, rubbing it again. As if adding oil to the fire, she reached her climax once again. Her insides clinches around him, and his pace quickens that ever. He then leans forward, kissing her as he came inside her again, flooding her walls. It dripped around him and into the sheets.

He broke the kiss, smirking smugly. "There you go." He says. His wife pants, face flushed than ever. "Are you alright?" He asked. She nodded. "Mhm.." He pulled out, softening already. He then rolled over to her side, and pulled her close. "Rest, then." He commanded. Her breath calms down so did she, and she nuzzles into his chest.

THE END

[bucca2]

Shrike pt. 1 - words hung above but never would form

definition. male shrikes are known for their habit of catching insects and small vertebrates and impaling them on thorns

König x high school sweetheart reader

2nd person, gender neutral reader for now but reader is afab and referred to as a girl, reader is Austrian/has lived in Austria and speaks German for most of the story, romance, pining, friends to lovers, reader's nickname is Thorn, König's first name is Alexander

4.8k words

tw: bullying, brief mention of cheating and domestic abuse (not explicit, mentions of violence, and not done by König), mention of terrorism, suicidal thoughts

[NEXT]

based on this post by @ceilidho, who gave me permission to write this! many thanks <3

this post is dedicated to @papaver-decervicatus, who I am so proud of for finishing chapter 4 of her fic cat/mouse/den (which I highly recommend) and eating NO glass in the process. her headcanons for König have had a huge influence on me, and while there are some differences between julius and alexander, I absolutely must thank Caedis for her wonderful portrayal of König.

and of course, to @danibee33, for fueling my König brainrot. without you, I probably would not have returned to writing <33

disclaimer, I am not Austrian, I do not speak German, so if there's anything that needs correcting, please do reach out!

You admit, you’ve always had an affinity for protecting the weak.

When you were twelve, a bird slammed headlong into your bedroom window. The poor thing had avoided snapping its own neck but was certainly in no condition to fly. You’d bolted out of your childhood home to check on it, but by the time you arrived, a huge grey tomcat was prowling, sitting back on his haunches and ready to pounce. You generally liked cats, but this one was a mean old stray, and you’d always been frightened to go near him.

Without hesitation, you had shoved the cat aside, spitting and yowling, and taken the little bird into your hands.

It took a few days to nurse back to health, and you still remember the day you released it back into nature. It was worth the long scratch down your arm, pride swelling in your heart as it spread its wings and flew into a vivid blue sky. You remember it even now: a charming little gray bird, a streak of black coloring over its eyes. A shrike, your mother had identified it as.

People are no different than animals, sometimes. People can be cornered, battered, and bruised as well. You recognize the broken hunch of the bird you rescued in the boy sitting by himself at lunch time. His shoulders curl inwards with a desperate need to go unnoticed. You’ve seen him around: he’s not in any of your classes, but your classes always seem to end up in the same hallways, so you pass each other all the time.

He jumps a little as you slide into the seat next to him, shrinking away from you in a way that breaks your heart. “Hey.”

No response. You offer your name, but he seems reluctant to divulge his own.

“Is it okay if I sit here?”

He shrugs.

“Thanks. I don’t know anybody at this school, so it’s nice to have a friend.”

“…friend?” He has a nice voice, you think. Timid, but almost sweet.

“Well, if you’ll let me call you one.”

“…”

And so begins your friendship with König.

I was housed by your warmth Thus transformed By your grounded and giving And darkening scorn

You didn’t call him that in high school, of course. You wouldn’t know that name until much, much later. It takes a while to coax him out of his shell, cajoling him that you can’t call him “green-eyed boy” forever, to get his name.

“Alexander is a very good name,” you assure him, and he seems pleased. He’s still hesitant to speak to you at all, but that’s just fine by you. You’ve got plenty to talk about, anyway.

“You know, I read this book about Alexander the Great. There’s this crazy story about one of his battles at a city called Tyre. He was laying siege to it after a misunderstanding with their king…” you chatter on, unaware of the intense stare from the boy sitting next to you.

“…ordinarily, sieging an island is pretty difficult, but you won’t believe what he did,” you rattle on. “He—”

“He built his own bridge,” Alexander says, so quietly you almost don’t hear him at first. You look at him in surprise.

“Yes! You know this story already?”

“I read a lot about him.”

“Then why did you let me ramble on about it if you knew about it already?” You’re a little embarrassed, having felt proud of yourself for knowing niche facts about historical figures.

“I like listening to you talk.”

That shuts you up for a moment. Only for a moment though, before you start to laugh.

“What?” he asks, an edge creeping into his voice.

“Nothing! It’s just—usually people tell me the opposite,” you say. “People say I talk too much.”

“I don’t mind.” His eyes dart to your face before looking away again.

“That’s good to hear. But I hope you know this means you’re never getting rid of me now,” you tease, nudging him gently.

He doesn’t respond, but for a second, you could have sworn that a corner of his mouth had turned up into a smile.

Learning more about him is like trying to draw blood from a stone, but you do your best. He mentions sharing a room with a cousin. His oma makes the best comfort food. Sometimes his mother takes him into town to buy candy, but he has to hide it or his cousin will steal it. Not that he cares that much—he doesn’t have much of a sweet tooth, but his family doesn’t come from means, so it means a lot to him whenever his mother spares a few pennies to buy him a frivolity.

It's what he doesn’t say that tells you the most about him. The way he fidgets with his clothes when he’s nervous. The brief panic that shoots through him whenever you call his name before he relaxes when he realizes it’s just you. The way he shies away from people in the hallways, just to avoid any contact whatsoever.

The fact that he never talks about his father.

The way he curls into himself when he’s being bullied.

“You should be apologizing to me for being in my way right about now, freak,” Andreas taunts him. He’s knocked Alexander’s books to the ground, like some sort of cartoon caricature of a bully, and you’re fed up.

“Hey!” Without missing a beat, you slide yourself between Alexander and Andreas. You’ve recently hit a bit of a growth spurt, so you note with a bit of smugness that you’re at least an inch or two taller than Andreas. You’re also quite a bit taller than Alexander, you realize. The two of you are usually sitting when you talk, so you’ve never really noticed.

“Leave him alone!” You stand your ground even as Andreas fixes you with a withering glare.

“Ah, so you’re gonna let your big strong girlfriend fight your fights now, is that it?” Andreas sneers. Alexander stiffens behind you, and you decide right then and there that you’ve had enough of this nonsense.

“You’re the last person who should be bringing up girlfriends, Andreas,” you say, staring him down with a look that you hope is sufficiently intimidating. “Everybody knows Yulia broke up with you because you can’t get it up.” You don’t know Yulia. You don’t give enough of a shit about Andreas to follow the gossip about him. But by the way his cheeks get ruddy, you know you’ve struck a nerve. The handful of spectators your little confrontation has attracted snicker.

“You little bitch,” he snarls. You hear the gasp of the students surrounding you before you feel it. You put a hand to your rapidly reddening cheek.

The little twerp had slapped you.

“That’s what you get for getting in my way,” he says, with a smug little look that you want to wipe off his face.

You’re not a violent person. And honestly, you could have been expelled for what happens next. But you cast a quick glimpse behind you at Alexander on the ground, and something about the look in his eyes reminds you of that bird you rescued, and a quick and hot anger rises in you.

You punch Andreas.

With no wind-up, no warning, you break his nose, and he drops like a rock, howling and clutching at the blood pouring from his nostrils. A sick little giggle comes out of you as you watch, drowned out by the uproar of your little audience.

“What on earth is going on here?!” You hear a teacher roar, and the crowd quickly begins to scatter. Without hesitation, you pull Alexander up and escape before you can be subjected to the consequences of your actions.

“Boy, am I glad he didn’t put up more of a fight,” you say gleefully, high on adrenaline. “That could have gotten quite ugly.”

“I didn’t know you had that in you,” Alexander says when the two of you have gotten far away enough. The way he looks at you now is a little different—almost reverent.

“I didn’t know either!” you say. “I’ve never done that before!”

“Who knew such a pretty rose had such sharp thorns?” he mumbles to himself. Your eyes zip to him, and even he looks surprised at the words coming out of his mouth.

“A pretty rose?” you tease, nudging him on the arm. He flushes pink and turns away, but there’s a bit of a lopsided half-smile on his lips.

You’re not sure why, but the sight of it makes your skin tingle.

The first few years of high school are relatively uneventful outside of skirmishes with Alexander’s various tormentors. Your biggest regret is that you can’t always be there for him—sometimes you have to spend your free periods catching up on readings or speaking with teachers. But you’re always there for him afterwards, poison in your voice as you hatch plans to make his bullies’ lives miserable. The plans never go anywhere, but thinking about retribution always seems to make him perk up a little. And really, that’s all that matters to you.

It's silly, how long it took you to realize how much of a fixture he was in your life. There’s a street corner a few blocks from the school you always meet him at so the two of you can walk the rest of the way together. The few times you share classes, you’re always sitting together, exchanging notes and quietly judging your classmates together. And you always, always sit with him during lunch. Even when you start making other friends who surely would welcome you at their tables, you always return to the quiet green-eyed boy in the corner.

You tell yourself it’s because he’s lonely, and he needs the company. You tell yourself the rumors about the two of you are silly, the result of bored hormonal teenagers who can’t fathom being a genuine friend to someone of the opposite sex. You tell yourself it means nothing that your face feels warm whenever he smiles at you.

You never get the chance to figure out if it does mean anything. He gives you the bad news on the last day of classes before summer break.

“I…I see,” you say, trying to swallow past the lump in your throat. For once, you’re at a loss of what to say. His fingers twist around each other in his lap, the way they only do when he’s really anxious.

“Well, a fresh start is good, right?” You offer him a smile, but your heart’s not in it. Maybe you haven’t spent as much time with him as you used to back in first year—you’ve started to take more advanced classes, and you’ve been so swamped with homework and projects that sometimes hanging out with Alexander is put on the back burner. But you’d always taken comfort in knowing that he would always be there at mealtime. A steady presence in your life, as everything around you seems to be speeding towards a future you’re not quite ready for yet.

Now he’s leaving. You’d like to think your concern is for him—what’s to say his new school won’t also be rife with harassment? Will he be able to make new friends? Or will he be all alone at the lunch table again? But really, who are you trying to fool? The sudden heaviness in your chest is selfish. What are you going to do without him?

The roaring in your head stills as you feel his hand cover yours. You stare at it dumbly, unable to lift your head and look him in the eyes. Your gut feels like it’s flipping and twisting all over itself.

You lift your eyes to his. For one breathless, indescribable moment, you think he’s going to kiss you. You’re sure he’s going to kiss you. You lean closer to him, and you can feel his breath on your lips.

Your eyes slide shut.

A shout startles your eyes back open, and he jolts away from you. It’s your mother, calling that she’s here to pick you up. You let out a frustrated noise as you call back to her that you’re coming before turning back to him.

The moment is long gone, and your heart twinges with regret as he avoids meeting your gaze. “You’ll write to me, won’t you?” you say softly. “And we can still see each other?”

“Of course I will, rosethorn,” he says, with that shy little smile you love so much.

You don’t see him for another ten years.

I couldn't utter my love when it counted I couldn't whisper when you needed it shouted Ah, but I'm singing like a bird 'bout it now

It’s ironic, really. Saving birds. Saving boys. But the one person you can’t save is yourself.

Your life post-König is like the drop on a roller coaster, but with none of the thrill. High school flies by in a flurry of deadlines and mental breakdowns. It’s worth it when you get into a good university—at least, you thought so. In reality, there’s no work in Austria for someone with your degree. Your parents are older, well on their way towards retirement, so you find yourself unwilling to burden them. You’re lost, stuck, and so very alone.

And then you meet him.

Tall, handsome, a little older, with a blossoming career. In hindsight, how much of a perfect package he presented himself as was the earliest red flag. But when you’re young and behind on rent, anything better than that feels like a miracle.

You know better, really. You knew it the whole time. Getting married after knowing each other for 2 months isn’t as bad as it could be, but it’s still too quick for your comfort. But the eviction notice was on your door, and he was a perfect gentleman. What could go wrong, right?

Everything. He at least has the decency to keep up the façade for another month, but that’s the only credit you’ll ever give the man you’ve shackled yourself to. It becomes increasingly obvious that he only married you to have a live-in maid while he philanders around as he pleases. You try, oh god do you try, for five long, fruitless years. God, it’s so silly when you think about it. You liked him so much, it took you so long to realize he had never liked you in the first place. He’d scooped up the first desperate college grad he’d found, and thinking about it makes you want to hide from everyone you know.

Which you do: hiding from what few friends you do have, hiding from your parents, hiding from the part of your brain that screams that you’re wasting the best years of your life cleaning up after a grown man who won’t even touch you, much less fuck you. Your 20s are for drinking, one-night stands, and figuring out what the fuck the rest of your life is going to look like. There is plenty of drinking, but the rest of it, not so much.

You’re going to divorce him, you tell yourself in year six. Once you get a job, you’re out. But you’re no fresh grad anymore, and the 6-year gap in your resume isn’t helping matters. You spot a glimpse of light at the end of the tunnel when he tells you you’re moving: his company is offering him a higher paid position, and it’s in a bustling downtown area. Plenty of opportunity for you, right?

That’s when he starts hitting you.

You’re away from your parents, your friends, your home. You took English classes, but that won’t exactly help you in this equally European foreign country whose language you don’t speak. Now that you’re approaching your 30s, your husband seems to be rapidly realizing that his youth is also disappearing. His new job is more stressful, and most days he has no outlet for it other than taking it out on you.

Now you long for the days when he didn’t come home until you’d already fallen asleep.

And then the terror attacks begin, and your once-bustling city shuts down. More isolation. Even less hope. You stay at home all day, torn between hoping someone will get rid of your husband for you and the abject terror of being left all alone in a foreign country torn apart by violent partisans.

That’s when the despair really sets in: you’ve wasted over a decade in this awful, dead-end relationship. Sure, you’ve got a roof over your head and food in your stomach: you should feel grateful. But you don’t.

You start hoping the attacks will take you out instead.

I fled to the city with so much discounted Ah, but I'm flying like a bird to you now Back to the hedgerows where bodies are mounted

“There are mercenaries in town.”

You look up from your breakfast, lost in thought thinking about all the errands you have to run today. “Yeah?”

“About time we stopped relying on our corrupt fucking military,” he grumbles. “Maybe they’ll end this goddamn conflict once and for all.”

You don’t have much to say about that. What does it matter to you, anyway? The only conflict that matters to you lives at home, and you stopped trying to fight it a long time ago.

“The curfew’s a pain in the ass, though. You behave yourself, you hear me?” His sharp glare reminds you that he’s not saying this out of a concern for your safety: if you make trouble for him, you’ll pay for it later. You nod mutely.

Your morning goes by relatively uneventfully. You do the dishes, stare at the wall, sigh, stare at the wall some more. As much of a prison as this apartment is, you like it decently well when he’s not in it. Going outside and seeing the ravages of war all around you is anxiety-inducing. But you can’t put off buying groceries anymore.

The arrival of the mercenaries makes itself immediately apparent. The streets are somehow even emptier, and what people there are on the streets move quickly and cast suspicious glances at everyone else.

You were hoping not to interact with anybody, but your hopes are dashed when you see a checkpoint ahead, manned by soldiers in unfamiliar uniforms. Although most of them are wearing different gear, they still look more orderly and well-kept than the country’s own military. Murder must pay well.

You look around nervously, but there’s no alternate route here, and nobody local going through with you. You strongly consider going home, but you’d just have to do this all over again tomorrow.

You steel yourself with a deep breath.

“Identification?”

You show the mercenary your ID with trembling fingers, gripping your bag tightly and praying he doesn’t find your nervousness suspicious.

“Where are you headed?”

“Just—just down the street,” you say, wincing at your heavy German accent. Years upon years of living here and you still sound like a foreigner. “Getting food.” You’re so anxious you forget the word for “groceries” for a moment. You only know enough of the local language to get by, and you’re sure you must sound like a kindergartener.

The soldier raises an eyebrow at you. “You are German?”

“I…Austrian,” you answer hesitantly. Oh God, you hope there’s no issue with that. You’re not so much afraid of being detained as you are of getting home too late to make dinner.

“Interesting.” The soldier hands back your ID. “Our commander is Austrian, as well.”

You perk up a little bit at that. You’ve met a handful of German-speakers here, but not a single one of your countrymen.

Well. Aside from the one who came here with you.

“He should actually be arriving here any moment now. Big guy in a hood. You can’t miss him. They call him König.” As if on cue, a military grade vehicle pulls up to the checkpoint, military personnel stepping out. And then…

Your blood runs cold.

Nothing, nothing could have prepared you for the sight of the beast that steps out of the car. Even from a short distance, you can tell he’s a colossal size. Two metres tall, easily, wearing a dark hood that reminds you of a medieval executioner. And as if that weren’t intimidating enough, two red trails, like bloody tears, are bleached under his eyes. His eyes, which must have some sort of black paint around them, giving him the impression of being two eyes staring out at you from the pitch blackness of the hood.

Two piercing green eyes.

Trained directly on your face.

Staring in disbelief.

“I…need to return home. I’ve forgotten something.” All worries about appearing suspicious fly out the window as the enormous man in the hood hesitates for a moment before making his way towards you with alarming speed.

You all but fly back down the street, making a beeline for your building. Just a few moments ago, you were excited to meet the man. Now, the image of his eyes staring into yours fills you with a fear you can’t describe.

The next day you take a long detour to avoid the checkpoint. It’ll take you twice as long to get home this time, but it’s worth it. You can’t put the shopping off another day: the brand-new bruise on your arm throbs as a reminder. And you certainly don’t want to run into the hooded soldier again.

You get your shopping done without much fanfare. The old lady cashier, who usually looks at you from over her glasses with the stern look you’ve seen a lot of people around here level at foreigners, even pressed a piece of candy from behind the register into your hand. You’re pretty sure it’s just because she wanted to get rid of it, but it does wonders for your mood.

You’re busy plotting when to enjoy your little treat when you turn a corner and freeze.

He’s here. He’s there, standing in an alleyway near your building. Somehow even larger than you remember him yesterday, still wearing that awful hood.

Does he know where you live? You curse yourself for running straight home yesterday. He must have seen the direction you went in—or did he follow you? You attempt to quietly retreat and take another route home, but your shoe scuffs a paving stone. And like a hawk spotting its prey, his head darts towards you.

You book it.

“Wait!” calls a deep voice. Tears spring to your eyes as you hear heavy footsteps pursuing you. What have you done to deserve this? You’re no criminal. Your only crime is being a naïve dumbass in your twenties.

Your arm burns as you turn corner after corner, not bothering to take note of where you’re going. It’s no use, though: you can hear him gaining on you. Fuck, is this it? You can’t even fathom what he wants you for, and you don’t want to think about it either—

“Rosethorn!” You come to a screeching halt.

There’s only one person who has ever called you that.

You turn around, chest heaving with exertion, as the hooded soldier—König, the soldier said his name was—comes into view, approaching you slowly.

“It’s me,” he says, holding his hands out like he’s approaching a wounded animal. You’re not really sure what the point is, considering the gigantic knife he’s got strapped to his thigh is intimidating all on its own, but somehow it still puts you at ease.

“Alex...?” you whisper, hardly daring to believe it.

“Yes,” he says. His posture has changed from when you saw him at the checkpoint. He’s hunching over, trying to make himself smaller. It reminds you of that first day when you sat next to him at lunch.

It’s him.

You instantly drop all your bags and cling to him in a hug, tears spilling from your eyes. He’s so different: most obviously, he's so tall. He must have hit some growth spurt after he moved away, because he towers over you now. You can feel under all the gear that he’s put on serious muscle—not surprising for a soldier, of course. And when his arms fold themselves over you, you’re filled with a sense of safety you haven’t felt in a long time.

“What are you doing here?” you both ask at the same time. A giggle bubbles out of you as you watch his eyes crinkle in an obvious smile. God, his eyes are so green.

“I’m stationed here because of the conflict,” he says. “But what are you doing here? I contacted your parents, and they said you had moved here, but they didn’t say why.”

You’re not surprised. You’re still in contact with your parents, but you don’t talk about the elephant in your home. You know they would have helped you, if only you had asked for it, but you never have.

“I…it’s complicated,” you say, withdrawing from the hug. You stare at the ground, brushing away the wetness in your eyes.

“I have nothing urgent right now,” he says, staring at you intently.

You swallow past the lump in your throat. “I…got married,” you whisper.

Instantly, his body language changes, stiffening in shock. He takes a half-step away from you, which makes you want to cry all over again. This is awful. This is humiliating. You wish you could go back in time and shake some sense into yourself.

“I see,” he says in a strangled voice. “Congratulations.”

Despite your best efforts, the tears spill over again. “No, not congratulations,” you say. “It—”

It was the worst mistake of your life, you want to say, but you just can’t get the words out. He must notice you beginning to quake with fear, because he raises a hand to touch you gently on the arm—right on the bruise.

His stare hardens as he watches you flinch. “Rosethorn, what’s the matter?”

Everything, you want to say. I’m standing in an alleyway with my childhood crush, shaking like a leaf because a monster lives in my house, and I can’t get away from him.

With a feather-like touch surprising for a man with such large hands—he grew so much— he goes to push up your sleeve. You catch a glimpse of the bruise before you have to turn away again, shuddering. It’s ugly: black and green, and very clearly shaped like a human grip.

“I…bumped into a shelf,” you say lamely. You can’t bring yourself to rope him into your troubles. He’s a soldier now, for Pete’s sake. He has bigger problems.

You can’t read his expression due to the hood—but there’s a blazing anger in his eyes you remember all too well. The quiet fury you often saw in him so many years ago.

He must see in your expression that you don’t want to be questioned about it right now, and thankfully, he relents. With an ease in his movement that must stem from some newfound confidence, he reaches over and picks up your bags for you. “Let me carry these for you.”

It’s nice, to be taken care of for once.

Your mad dash took both of you quite far away from your building, so you have enough time for quite a nice little chat. You tell him about your time in university, he tells you what happened to him after he moved away. He’d jumped at the chance to enlist as soon as he turned 17, on the recommendation of an uncle who had spent time in the military. You laugh when he tells you that they wouldn’t let him be a sniper, a pout in his tone. You could have imagined him as a sniper back in high school, but he’s so large now it’s impossible not to notice him.

“The discipline was good for me,” he recounts. “I needed to grow a spine.”

“Don’t say that. You were just trying to get by in school, like everybody else.”

He shrugs. “I wanted to be like you.”

“Like me?” You ask incredulously.

“My rose with thorns,” he says, with a fondness that makes you blush. “Do you remember that day you punched that punk Andreas?”

“How could I forget? My fist hurt for days,” you say with a grin. “But I didn’t regret it for a second.”

He looks down at you—that’s new—with pride in his eyes. “I thought about you that day all throughout training,” he says. “You were my guardian angel.”

Your cheeks grow even warmer, and you feel like a teenager again. How can he still make you feel this way so easily after all this time? “He had a punchable face,” you say dismissively. “If not me, then it would have been someone else.”

You’re almost disappointed to arrive home. Only yesterday, home was your sanctuary. Now, it means being separated from the one person you trust fully in this country. You turn to him, almost bashful. “This is where I live."

He sets the bags down like they’re made of fine china, and he’s standing so close you almost stop breathing. The air is charged, the same way it felt that night when you almost kissed. You watch him as he watches you.

“Can I see you again?” he asks, breaking the silence.

“Of course,” you say, and the sparkle in his eye dazzles you.

You watch him leave until you can’t see him anymore. And for once, you enter your home with a light heart.

Remember me, love When I'm reborn As the shrike to your sharp And glorious thorn

if you'd like to be added to the taglist, just drop a reply! feedback is always appreciated, and my inbox is open, so please feel free to drop me an ask! I will 100% write little scenarios/headcanons about this couple because I have so many thoughts and ideas for them lol

I anticipate about 2-3 parts for this, maybe with König pov in the next part? he doesn't come across this way in this part, because it's from Thorn's perspective, but he is a very nasty boy indeed. also, I know putting lyrics in the middle of a fic is so passé, but I can't help myself. it's hozier! indulge me. also this isn't beta read so I really hope it doesn't suck