#and I'm at work so i don't have tweezers

[i-aint-even-bovvered]

To other people who don't grow beards

Do you ever get a chin hair in like one specific place and it's just a bad sensory experience that you can't rest until it's out, or is my neuro diverging in a new cool way?

[dark-night-hero]

Imagine being Umemiya Hajime's significant other.

Imagine looking after his and your plants within the rooftop base of Furin. Sure you knew he could always handle them yourself but a helping hand would not hurt once in awhile. So as your laid there on the makeshift hammock, you humm. Turning to your side carefully not to fall as you watch your lover's back. "Watcha doin' in there Hajimeee" You knew that he was doing, but the look on his face as he goes into his endless talk about plant was worth the nonesense.

Imagine everyone knew chaos would come if Kotoha were to ever get involved in a fight let alone get hurt. So what more when it comes to you? "Tsk. Cowards." You utter before spitting blood as your lips got busted, watching the gang cramble away as you wipe your lips with your sleeves only to hiss. You busted your lips. Rolling your eyes upon seeing the no one on sight. You turn your back only to see a familiar figure coming your way. "Wha- what? Who told him?!" Looking at the silver haird guy approaching you in great speed, you started to walk back. Oh damn you are screwed. Before you knew it, you were running on your toes with your boyfriend chasing after you closely and of course to no avail, he caught you in an instant.

"Hey, aren’t you banned from patrolling for 3 weeks?" "Ha ha ha I was just walking around?" "With dishevelled clothes and a busted lips? I doubt." "Come on, it was an act of self defense." "Just because you don't like how they are looking at you doesn't men you can throw a punch first." "..." "Add a week more into your ban." "Hajime!" "Nope, not working." He was protective, sure. But more than anything, you knew you can handle yourself pretty well, you did not have his back for nothing. In fact, in some cases, he was more worried about those punks you beat up rather than you. After you all could be pretty scary when mad. Scarier than him.

Imagine often hanging out on the cafe, you love their meals after all let alone the adorable cook in there. Just like Hajime, you adore Kotoha but unlike your boyfriend, you feelings were returned. "(First name)! Welcome back, oh- you're not with??" "Your older broo got something to do at the moment. Who knew, maybe he'll make it if he finished earlier." You laugh, recalling your whinny lover upon realizing it will take him more time to leave. "How I love the freedom away form responsibilities." You sigh, a smile making its way on your lips as you bring your beverage close to your lips when the bell rings with a thud. "You traitor! How could you leave me alone to take care of it all?!"

"Are you sure you don't need an anti-rabies shot?" You chuckle at your own joke as you dab his bite wound on the neck before wrapping it in bandage again. "Dude, even I don't get to mark you like this." You chuckle once again. Humming to yourself, you grab his hand that has his knuckle wounded. You frown, then you blow on it before grabbing your tweezer with disinfectant cotton in it before dabbing it on his wounds. "Ow." "Don't be dramatic." You roll your eyes at him. "Dumbass." You whispered, started bandaging his wounds once again. "Dumbass." You whispered once again. "I'm sorry." He mumble. You hate seeing him get hurt.

[ⓒdark-night-hero] 2024°

[fanaticsnail]

Maybe some other time, Wire

Hey Doc Masterlist

Word Count: 900+

Synopsis: Wire is curious about your past and asking a lot of questions. You would prefer if he left this for another time considering the operation you're performing.

Themes: Kid Pirates x gn!reader, platonic series, you are 'Doc', the doctor of the Kid Pirates. Risky language, not explicit, humour, Wire is being intrusive, he tests your patience. This started as a fun crack series, and I needed to bring it back.

Notes: Permissions for art used from @magnuspirate was given, and how beautiful is he? Go and have a look at their other work. I am obsessed with how they draw Heat, alongside the other Kid Pirates. I dreamed about this fic last night and woke up laughing a little bit about it. 5am fic writing, my beloved.

“Hey, Doc?” The calm and low baritone of the trident user called sweetly over his shoulder to you, “Why don't you like to talk about your past?”

His question seemed reasonable enough. You had yet to really discuss who you were, what you did, or anything to do with personal relationships before joining the Kid Pirates. You weren't a native to the North like the majority of the crew, being an outsider they let in when visiting a port.

Letting out a soft sigh, you shook your head and continued to make good on the taste you set for yourself. Knitting your brows tighter together, you pursed your lips and used your utensil to extract another small object between their pincers.

“I just don't particularly like talking about me,” you utter without inflection on the words, “It's not a pretty story, nor is it remotely interesting in my opinion.” You placed the object in a small container before making to go back for another, “Now, I would prefer to focus on what I'm doing, so if you would please refrain from asking me questions, I would appreciate it.”

Wire pondered for a few moments, humming softly as he thought more on your deflection of the question.

“You know, I'm no ships counselor,” Wire uttered defensively, “But even I know not to internalize your past, especially when it caused you such a hard injury earlier.”

You look down at your healed leg briefly, still feeling the sting of the object embedded in your muscle, and the sour flavor from the poison igniting your blood. Shaking it off, you once again return to what you had set yourself to do.

“You're right,” you agree with him, nodding briefly, “You're not ship's counselor. Now, please stop asking me questions about my past. I would be happy to answer anything you want soon, but not now.”

Wire seemed to take this as his queue to sit in silence as you plucked and prodded at your latest project. But that silence only lasted as long as his questions halted its burn.

“Who was that person?” Wire asked you suddenly, his voice a little louder than it had been moments prior, “And why did they attack you on sight?” You sighed through your nose at this, rolling your neck on your shoulders to rid it of tension from your hunched position.

“Some other time, Wire,” you growled, your voice low and laced with warning. Wire refused to take that as reason enough to stop, curiosity eating at him the longer you avoided it.

“And the poison?” he asked you suddenly, “Why did you have a cure under your bed? Were you expecting something like this?”

“Wire,” you made your voice a little louder, disciplinary and tough, “Enough. I am concentrating.”

“And why did-?” Wire began once more, prompting you to throw your tweezers into the tray beside you and move to where he was laying face down on the medical bay.

Bringing your eyes to his, you narrowed them and upturned your lip to a soft grimace.

“Wire, I said some other time,” you spoke firmly, “I did not say ‘no’, nor did I avoid the questions you’re asking.” You nod along, ensuring you maintained eye contact with him. “I will answer you, just not now. Do you understand?”

Wire furrowed his brows, his mop of dark and silvery curls dancing at his face with his hood laying on the medical office chair. Still reclining on his belly, his curiosity plagued him as he darted his eyes between yours.

“Why won't you answer me now? We're alone, you don't have to think about it, you can just speak,” he commented, gently reaching one of his larger hands towards you and giving your forearm a friendly squeeze. “I thought we were friends. You don't have to talk, but I can admit, the curiosity has been eating at me since we got back from our mission to that island together.”

You inhaled a deep lungful of air, expanding your chest with it, before deflating it through a lengthy exhale through your nose.

“Wire,” you warn him almost sweetly, “You are currently laying flat down, on your belly, on my examination bed with your briefs, shoes and fishnets tucked neatly on the chair in front of you.” You gesture towards the chair his hood was tucked on. “And I am currently operating extremely close to, and directly on, your anus.”

You gesture towards the tray, reminding him where he was, and who he was talking to. A warm blush flooded his whiskered cheeks, burning his features with the hot ignition of a large fluster.

“Now, while I appreciate the sentiment, and I adore you, commander,” you utter sweetly, returning to your position at his exposed rear cheeks, “Removing cactus spindles from your ass cheeks, inside and outside your rectum, and the ones you managed to collect on your scrotum…” you continued, picking up your tweezers and returning to your task, “...Is not the position I would like to be in when talking about my childhood.”

Wire gulped back his silence, burying his forehead on his butterflied out arms. The tips of his ears remained red as you continued, wanting to punish him a little for continuing to push your boundaries.

“The only place I appreciate winking at me when I talk is from the eyes attached to your face,” you comment, plucking another spindle from his flesh and placing it in the container beside you, “So, please refrain from asking me personal questions while I am so close to your sphincter. I think we would both prefer it if the mood for intimate conversation was set elsewhere. Am I clear, sir?”

Wire nodded, extending his left arm over his blushing head and gesturing with his thumb to confirm your orders.

“Aye, Doc,” he mumbled against his right arm, “You're clear.”

“Wonderful."

Tag list: @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @since-im-already-here @gingernut1314 @writingmysanity @sordidmusings @i-am-vita @indydonuts @feral-artistry @the-light-of-star @empirenowmp3 @racfoam @sunflowersatori @carrotsunshine @skullfacedlady @jintaka-hane @thenotsofantasticlifestory @nerium-lil @sinning-23 @a-killer-obsession

[beefcakekinard]

BuckTommy intimacy prompts #29 (kisses when they're mad) or #50 (patching up a wound).

Whichever one speaks to you, or a combination of both. Thank you! :)

29. kisses when they're mad +

50. patching up a wound

Buck shifts, restless and uncomfortable, in one of Tommy's kitchen chairs. His left hand rests palm-up on top of a sheet of paper towel on the table while Tommy uses a small pair of sterile tweezers to pick tiny shards of glass from the cuts littering his skin. Tommy's focus is singular, his brow furrowed as he works - normally, this would get Buck all kinds of hot and bothered, but the scratches on his hand itch and the topic of conversation is less than inspiring in that department.

"I'm not mad," Tommy says stiffly. He sounds like Maddie used to whenever Buck had done something particularly bone-headed when they were growing up. Buck has enough self-preservation instinct to bite back a joke about her giving Tommy lessons.

"What, you're just disappointed?" Buck goads. Tommy gives him a sharp look. So much for self-preservation.

"I'm not mad," Tommy repeats, adding, "I'm upset, because my boyfriend seems to have decided for me how I'm going to feel about meeting his parents, and when he didn't like the reaction he picked out for me, he decided to keep me in the dark about them coming to visit."

Buck bristles, straightening his back a little; even though he doesn't want to get back to the tense arguing he'd interrupted by crushing a wine glass in his hand, he doesn't like the way Tommy is characterizing the whole situation.

"That's not fair," he says. Tommy snorts in response and keeps picking glass out of his hand.

"No, it isn't."

"That's not what I meant." Buck tries to pull his hand back; Tommy's hand on his wrist keeps it pinned where it is. "I meant you're not being fair to me."

Tommy gives him another unimpressed look and Buck has to fight the urge to cringe, because yeah, that didn't come out the way he wanted. "I meant," he presses, "you're giving me this, this motive that you've pulled out of- from nowhere, instead of letting me explain."

"So explain," Tommy says, gaze fixed on Buck's palm as he works.

Buck sighs. "You know I don't have the, uh, best relationship with my parents." Tommy nods, so he continues, "And we- we're trying to fix that. But it's something I can kind of, get in my own head about." Buck starts bouncing his leg - he looks away from Tommy, to the calendar he has up on the wall. "I've never introduced them to someone I've dated."

Tommy makes an acknowledging hum and digs deep into one of the cuts on Buck's hand. Buck flinches, his whole body twitching away except for the hand in question, itself still held tight to the table with the warm weight of Tommy's hand on his wrist.

"I thought-" Buck starts, then stops. He feels like he's picking the words out of the air as he says them, and he wants - needs - to get this right. "I want you to meet them," is what he settles on, turning his gaze back to Tommy, wishing he'd look up. He does.

"Technically, I've already met them," Tommy says. "At Maddie and Howie's wedding."

Buck nods without breaking eye contact. "Yeah, yeah, kind of, but that was- that ended up being less formal than I wanted, you know?"

Tommy nods his head back and forth, like he's ceding the point. He sets down the tweezers and grabs an antibacterial wipe from the first aid kit beside him.

"So- so I do, I still want you to meet them," Buck says. He scrunches his face when Tommy gently runs the wipe over his cuts - it stings. "I just... I don't want them to make you uncomfortable."

"Baby, you know I'm a grown man," Tommy says without looking up from his work. He grabs some ointment and starts to spread it carefully over the worst of the cuts. "I can handle people being rude."

Buck nods. "No, I, I know, I do, just..." He sighs again and watches Tommy fix a bandage to the worst of the cuts, a gash in the meat of his palm. When he's done, he releases his hold on Buck's wrist and slips both his hands around Buck's, cradling it without touching his injuries. It kind of makes Buck's eyes burn.

"Is that really why you didn't tell me? Because of how you think your parents will behave?" Tommy asks. Buck pauses, then shakes his head. He doesn't look up, keeps his eyes focused on Tommy's thumb, rubbing circles into Buck's pinky.

"I..." Buck clears his throat. "I was also maybe worried about how I'd behave, around them." He looks up into Tommy's eyes. "Historically, I, uh, I'm not really my best self when they're around."

"I get that," Tommy says, and squeezes Buck's hand tighter between his own. "But believe it or not, I'm not going to run for the hills because you have a hard time with your parents. In fact-" he pauses, leans in a little, and all Buck sees is the blue blue blue of his eyes - "in fact, that's kind of something I'd really like to be by your side for."

Buck can't help himself - he cups Tommy's jaw with his free hand and pulls him forward into a kiss they both sigh their way into. Something inside his chest settles, glowing warm like embers. He pulls back, just far enough to rest their foreheads together, and savours the rasp of Tommy's stubble under his thumb.

"I'm sorry," he whispers. Tommy kisses him again, briefly, lightly.

"I forgive you," Tommy whispers back, and presses into another quick kiss. "And I'm sorry, too. I should have talked to you, instead of getting upset."

Buck smiles. "You're forgiven," he whispers into Tommy's lips. In a minute, they'll get up, clean the first aid detritus from the table and the shards of glass from Tommy's kitchen floor. But for now, before their backs start aching for how they're leaning, they've got this, each other, a whole world created in the bubble between them every time their lips touch. And in this moment, that's all Buck really wants.

[charrlote365]

SAND, SEOYEON AND S*X Reference Idol: fromis_9 LEE SEOYEON Word Count: 13.077 Tags: Romance, massage, Kpop idol, fromis_9, Lee Seoyeon

As the sun set below the horizon, painting the desert in hues of orange and pink, I couldn't help but dazed at how surreal our honeymoon felt. Here I was, in the middle of nowhere, with Lee Seoyeon, the love of my life and, incidentally, a member of fromis_9. The expansive desert stretched out before us, an endless canvas of dunes that seemed to go on forever.

Seoyeon's laughter echoed through the air, her unique husky voice making the sound even more enchanting as we hiked up yet another sandy hill. Her joy was infectious, "CAMPING, CAMPING, CAMPINGG!!~", she kept singing loudly while jumping around in the sand, and despite the sweat trickling down my back, I felt like the luckiest man alive. Fate indeed works in a mysterious way, who would have thought that our paths would cross like this, leading us to this moment?

"Hey, look at that cactus!" Seoyeon exclaimed, pointing excitedly at a tall, spiky plant standing high amidst the sand. She ran towards it, her oversized white shirts waving around. I jogged to catch up, grinning at her childlike enthusiasm.

"Be careful, babe," I warned playfully. "Those things can be pretty prickly."

She turned back to me, eyes sparkling with mischief. "Are you afraid of cactus? Just be afraid of me ~, because I can bite! Happp!! hehehe~"

Before I could respond, she stumbled, her foot catching on an unseen rock. Time seemed to slow down as she was falling forward, right onto the cactus. My heart skipped a beat.

"Seoyeon!" I shouted, rushing to her side. She sat up, a look of shock on her face, now adorned with tiny cactus thorns. Despite the situation, she started to giggle, her husky laugh vibrating through the air.

"Well, that didn't go as planned," she said, her laughter bubbling up. I couldn't help but join in, the absurdity of it all hitting us both at once.

"Let's get you back to the hotel," I said, helping her to her feet. "We'll have you de-thorned in no time."

We made our way back, the heat of the day giving way to a cooler evening breeze. Back in our room, the light was soft and warm, casting a comforting glow on Seoyeon's face. She sat on the edge of the bed, still giggling intermittently. I fetched the first aid kit, trying to suppress my own laughter.

"How many staycation stories start with a cactus attack?" I said, sitting beside her with tweezers in hand.

She grinned, her eyes twinkling. "Not many, I bet. But it makes for a great story, don't you think?"

"I do. And it's all part of the adventure," I replied. "Just our little secret."

She smiled, her eyes filled with warmth. "Our secret staycation in the desert. No media, no fans, just us."

I started to gently remove the thorns, one by one. She winced occasionally but kept her spirits high. "Does it hurt?" I asked, pausing to look into her puppy eyes.

"Um, a little," she admitted, her voice sulky. "But it's okay, it's worth it for the memories. Besides, it’s kind of funny. I mean, who else can say they hugged a cactus on their honeymoon?"

"Of course, the great and the only one, Lee, Seoyeon," I replied, chuckling. "You never cease to amaze me."

She giggled, her husky voice making my heart flutter. "You know, this reminds me of that one dream I dreamt few days ago, I tripped and fell into a bush during a festival performance. The fans thought it was part of the choreography."

I laughed, imagining the scene. "So, did you play it off like a pro?"

"Of course, even in my dream I'm still that great dancer of fromis_9" she said with a wink.

I continued to carefully pull out the thorns, the process surprisingly hard. Her laughter made it easier, turning what could have been a painful event into a bonding experience. Occasionally, she would make a funny face, and we would burst into laughter all over again. And for every laugh she does, the more I fell deeper for her.

"You know," she said softly, "I've always been in the spotlight, even in my childhood. My life is always about performing. But now that I'm with you, I can just be myself. Even with a face full of thorns."

I paused, looking at her with nothing but love. "And I wouldn't have it any other way," I said. "You're perfect, even with thorns and all."

She smiled, reaching out her hand to touch my right cheek. "Thank you for always being there, for making even the craziest moments special."

"That's what love is, right?" I replied, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "Being there for each other, laughing through the chaos."

By the time I finished, her face was free of thorns, and she looked radiant despite the disaster. We sat there, in our little desert oasis, enjoying the warmth of our love and laughter.

"I need to take a shower," I said, standing up and stretching. "Make sure you don't get into any more cactus-related trouble while I'm gone."

She laughed, her husky voice following me into the bathroom. The warm water felt amazing after the long, adventurous day, and I took my time, savoring the moment of solitude.

When I stepped out of the bathroom, I was greeted by a sight that made me burst into laughter. Seoyeon was laying on the bed, her face and upper chest covered in gummy bears made from honey.

"What on earth are you doing?" I asked, still chuckling.

She looked up at me with her silly face. "Honey is supposed to be good for healing scars, right? So I thought these gummy bears might help." She explained playfully.

I couldn't stop laughing. "You do know you look like a walking candy store right?? Come here, you."

I got on the top of her and slowly picking off the gummy bears one by one, popping each one into my mouth. She squealed in mock protest, her eyes sparkling with laughter.

"Yaaa..Stop eating my medicine!" she scolded jokingly, swatting at my hands.

"But they taste so good," I replied, grinning. "And besides, you're already healing. Laughter is the best medicine, remember?"

She rolled her eyes but couldn't hide her smile. "You're just the worst."

"And you love that about me right," I said while leaning myself down to kiss her. Despite of her small face, her lips are rather thick, they wrap my lips like a warm blanket, our saliva mixed all together and it tasted like honey thanks to the gummy bears I just ate. Our tongues were slipping against each other like they're going to melt to be one. I then stopped and walked away from her, she was wondering why I didn't continue. "Where are you going? Let's continue, I still need your love to heal, you know?" She lamented.

"Yes, mam! wait a minute, I have something you will like", I said as I reached into the first aid kit bag again, this time pulling out a small bottle of essential oil. "You know what this is right?," I asked, pouring a few drops onto my fingertips. Massaging her body with oil has been our routines. She loves it when her body is sticky with oil and when I rub her body, she always squeals and giggles.

She raised an eyebrow, Pretending not to know. "What's that? I know nothing about that, I'm innocent, officer", while trying to avoid eye contact with me.

Ignoring her respond, I started to take off her white shirts and bra. I could see her breasts which upper part filled with bruises and scars from the thorns, and also red line mark on her shoulders from her bra straps. I poured some oil onto her body and gently dabbed the oil gently on her shoulder where the thorns had left small marks. She shivered slightly at the touch, a giggle escaping her lips.

"That tickles," she said, her voice husky and playful.

"Sorry," I said, grinning. "I'll be gentle." I continued rubbing the oil to her neck and her face cheeks. Looking at her silly face up close which now filled with some scars and bruises from the fall, I couldn't stop myself to kiss her lips again, wanting her to know that I will take care of her from now on, no matter what. I closed my eyes slightly and used my lips to rub over the oil on her scars slowly, she felt ticklish yet aroused from all the kissing and started hugging me tight. Her breasts pressed against mine so tightly that I could feel her heart beat getting faster.

"This feels nice," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "Thank you."

"Anything for you," I replied, my heart swelling with love for this incredible woman.

I continued rubbing her body with my lips. I kissed her nips which laced by oil, and rubbed the other nip with my finger. She let out a little moan. Her breath is getting uncontrollable and she started biting her finger. Her eyes were locked on me, they're filled with trust, love, excitement and lust. Just looking at her expression made me filled with pleasure.

I sneaked my right hand into her pants and started rubbing her pussy. I could feel sticky substance already soaked her underpants. I licked my finger that's laced by her love juice and put it back inside her. She shouted as 2 fingers in were too much for her.

"Ups! Sorry. We just started and you're already soaked, Seoyeon-ah." I teased her.

"Shii.. just be quiet and get it over with, I'm still in pain, you know..", she replied with pouty mouth on her face.

I stood up and removed my bathing robe, letting them drop to the floor. I went back on the bed and slowly took off her jeans. She couldn't say anything as her heart beat faster, knowing what's going to happen next.

I raised her legs up and opened them wide. I could see her pussy bare open and I couldn't hold myself to suck and bite her clits slightly hard. She was surprised by it that she screamed so loudly I was afraid people in the next room might hear us. Luckily, I realized no one's gonna hear us since we're in a hotel that's close to be nowhere on the map and she continued to moan loudly. I continued licking her pussy like I was a cat licking butter and put my middle finger into her pussy. Her pussy neck is so short that I could feel her womb gate with just my finger. I teased her womb by squeezing them inside and she started pulled my hair yelling how good it felt. I kept teasing her womb and I could feel her pussy wall suddenly got tight as she arched her back and sprayed her love juice all over my face and the bed.

As if it wasn't enough I put 2 fingers back into her and rubbing the upper part of her pussy, teasing her g-spot with every thrust. She felt her high coming again and within seconds she reached her climax for the second time and her body shuddered roughly. I licked and sucked her pussy to clean it from her love juice, including the thick, white liquid oozing from her that tasted like cheese, my favorite delicacy. lmao.

"Hmm, your pussy is so tasty", I teased her while she was still gasping for air from her second orgasm. Yet suddenly, right after she stopped, she raised up and gripped my hard rock penis. "Ouch!", I yelled as I didn't expect her move. "Now it's my payback", Seoyeon said while looking at me with sharp gaze after what I just did to her. She suddenly bit my penis tip hard making my knees weak and I shouted "Yahh! Seoyeon-ah!! Please be gentle!".

"Just be quiet and man up", she replied with a little giggle. She then sucked my dick like its a boba drink that she likes. Every suck feels like my soul getting suck into her mouth. My penis barely fit to her small mouth that it felt as tight as her pussy. Her mouth walls wrapped my dick with its warm, wet and intensely. Slowly but sure, I feel the tickling sensation turned into ecstasy, my head's got lighter and just like that I spurted my sperm inside her mouth. I grip her head and push it closer and deeper into my crotch as I went high up to heaven. My sperm flowed so much that it started to spill on the bed. She then opened her mouth to show how much sperm I just unloaded roughly into her tiny mouth.

"Wait, lemme get the tiss..", but before I could even finish my words she replied "I already drank it", with her giggle and husky voice, delightly. Aftermath was a mess with our bed was wet, stained with our body fluid. We quickly cleaned them up as we didn't want to be fined by the hotel and even used the hair dryer to dry it up quickly. It was so tiring, that still naked, we lay down on the bed, with no energy left in us.

As we laying side by side, facing each other closely, we leaned in for another kiss, I felt the warmth of her breath against my lips, mingling with the sweetness of the honey and the floral scent of the oil. The room was filled with the scent of the desert, a blend of flower oils and our fluids, lingering reminders of our wild day. Her eyes, shining with love and amusement, held mine as we shared this intimate moment.

Cuddling her close, I whispered, "I can't wait to see what other crazy adventures we'll have."

She smiled, her husky voice soft in my ear. "As long as we're together, I'm ready for anything."

And as we kissed, sealing our promise, I knew that no matter what the future held, we would face it together, with laughter, love, and a spirit of adventure that would see us through anything. In that moment, our secret honeymoon in the desert felt like the most perfect beginning to the rest of our lives.

[devilfic]

❝friends of the web❞

plot: you have a fear of spiders, but you've made a promise to work past it. peter thinks your determination is really quite adorable. pairing: tasm!peter parker x gn!reader. cw: fluff, humor, established relationship, spiders (not graphic), reader has arachnophobia but is being so brave about it, based on the poem "ten legs, eight broken" by I, e on tiktok because it fundamentally changed the way I interact with small bugs forevermore. words: 1.2k.

a/n: I have had pretty bad arachnophobia my entire life and after reading ten legs, eight broken a while back, it convinced me to start saving little spiders I find in my house. this fic is 100% based on how that ends up going every single time. minus peter parker coming to save the day

He's careful, stomach coiled tight to control his breathing. One hand is delicately pinching a bolt with tweezers, the other holding his webshooter frighteningly still. One wrong move would trigger the suspension, and about four hours' worth of fluid refill would end up all over his research notes. He has to be slow. He lowers the tweezers another half inch.

Gently, the bolt's thread catches and he releases the breath he'd been holding. In that same moment, you shout and his tweezers slip.

It's the feeling of webs spraying him in the face that he registers first, their tendrils catching onto his glasses and eyelashes and lips. Then it's your rushed breathing, the pumping of your heart nearly beating out of your chest. He doesn't feel a tingle along his spine but your shout jolts Peter out of his spell. In an instant, he's batting away the webs and throwing himself out of his office with enough velocity to take down a wall. He's expecting scorpions, vultures, lizards, his hearing zeroing in on you, and-

-and he turns the corner and there's you, crouched on the floor, hands cupped in front of you—cocooning something. "Hey, hey, hey, whoa, whoa." Peter's eyes flit around the room, looking for the threat his senses ought to have picked up on by now, and kneels beside you. He focuses on your hands and your complete and utter lack of urgency. "What's going on?"

You glance to the side, so quick he doesn't even think you register the panic on his face, "Pete, thank God. Can you talk to this thing for me?"

You move your hand and the other breathing thing in the room becomes apparent. A spider, barely the size of a crumb, is crawling over mountains of carpet thread. It's moving quickly but in circles, clearly confounded by the terrain. Peter looks at you. He drags each syllable out as he asks, "What is happening?"

You shift and Peter shifts with you, keeping an eye on the spider, "This thing- this spider is such a jackass."

"Yeah?"

"I'm trying to get him outside and he won't go."

You've got a flier for Pilates in the Park clenched in one hand, while the other is cautiously putting a wall between the spider and the abyss under your sofa, a place where even Peter dares not go. "Why don't you just kill it?"

Clearly that was the wrong thing to say. You look horrified at him as you answer, "I can't kill him!"

"Do we- are we sure it's a him? Have you decided he's a him?"

"I made a promise to myself that I would stop killing."

"I don't think... okay, what is going on here?"

You struggle to explain and focus on the spider at the same time, "It's a resolution I made for the new year. That even though I'm terrified of these things, I won't kill them anymore because... because they're living beings just like me." Peter watches you bite your lip, a twinge of pity sewn into the divot between your furrowed brows, "So I'm putting them outside whenever I see one... if only they would stop being jackasses about it."

Peter half-laughs, half-sighs. The little spider crawling around on the ground is none the wiser to your inner peril, "This isn't just because your boyfriend is, like, 1/3 spider, is it? I won't take it personally if you hit him with a shoe."

You snort and place your flier in front of the escaping spider, watching it crawl over the word "yoga" before making a u-turn for the carpet, "Of course not, my spider overlord."

You try to scoop up the spider again but every time you lift the paper, it dives off the other side and back into the carpet. "How long does this usually take?" Peter asks. He sits back on his ass, propping up a knee to rest his arm on.

"Ten minutes at best. If I don't lose them."

"Hm. And this works for you?"

You pout up at him, scooping up the spider again and watching it fly off once more, "I usually manage to get them outside, I'll have you know."

"And the screaming?"

"I never said it was a peaceful process."

"So, let me get this straight," Peter leans into you, "you spot the spider, you grab the nearest piece of paper, you try to get the spider on the paper, and then you...?"

"Scream and run until I make it to the window."

"Why- why the screaming?"

You wince, trying not to lose the bug in the carpet, "Because I'm scared they'll touch me." Your boyfriend tickles his fingers along your arm and you shiver, swatting him with your free hand.

After another failed attempt, Peter places his hand in front of the spider's path and it crawls into his palm to get to the kitchen. Before it can cross over into tiled territory, it's forced to a sudden stop, and Peter takes advantage.

It takes him three strides to get to the living room window, yank it open, and release the spiderling into the wild.

You're standing behind him with a look of frustration on your face, even though your shoulders have finally sagged with relief, "How'd you convince him to sit in your hand like that?"

"I didn't. Sticky hands." Peter wiggles all his fingers at you, amused.

"Wh- that's it? Do they not usually listen to you or something?" You grab one of his hands and quickly realize he's using that ability on you this time. He's got you stuck in a handhold.

"I can't remember when I ever said I could talk to spiders."

"I mean, it seems like a pretty fair assumption," you grumble, trying to shake his hand away before giving in, "they put their juices in you after all."

"Why would you say that?"

"Thanks for the help, by the way. I'm still... getting used to not panicking when I see them."

Peter raises his other hand to your hair and gives you a kiss on the temple, smiling against your skin, "You are so, so, so brave."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I mean, it's pretty brave to show mercy to something you fear, right? You could've killed it or asked me to do it, but you didn't. You wanted it to live."

"It doesn't mean to scare me," you bring your intertwined hands up to your mouth and press a kiss to his knuckles, "I'd want it to take pity on me if it was the other way around."

"I think the spiders will appreciate that."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Then why do they give me such a hard time?"

"Well, you're so scared of them that you don't even realize they're just as scared of you. You gotta make 'em like you, you know?"

"Got any tips for that?"

Peter guides his free hand to your waist, rocking you side to side, "Hm. Buy them sushi. Take them to a midnight showing of Night of the Living Dead. Tell him you think his nerdy rambling after the movie is sexy..." You giggle into Peter's chest and his heart swells, "Don't laugh! It worked on me."

You tilt your head up and he steals a kiss without hesitation, making you stumble on what you say next, "How about you just come let them out for me next time, hm?"

"And if I'm not around?"

"...make me a super scientific spider catching gadget?"

Peter hooks his hands underneath your thighs and hikes you up around his waist, "I'll make you one if you refill my web fluid for me."

"You can fill me with your web fluid."

"Okay. I'm putting you in time out, freak."

taglist: @yikes-buddy @alexxavicry @theclassicvinyldragon @marina-and-the-memes

[objectumnonsense]

robot oneshot, as requested VwV

The lab was dark, save for the dim neon light filtering in through the curtains and a singular work lamp in the corner of the room. Every few minutes, a train passed overhead, making the ceiling groan with the weight, but it was otherwise quiet. The lab's only two occupants sat without speaking, one in maintenance mode on a table and the other wearing thick, elbow-length rubber gloves and wielding a variety of delicate tools.

The Mechanic worked diligently and in near silence, save for softly humming a tune and occasionally blowing their hair out of their face while they worked on SN-0407-67. The only sounds coming from 67 were the hum of its fans and the occasional buzz of a wire being put in the wrong place, quickly corrected by the Mechanic.

After about half an hour, the Mechanic said, in a voice rough with disuse, "Exit maintenance mode," and a line of small lights blinked to life on the back of 67's neck. Its shutters flicked open and it turned its head right around to face the Mechanic.

"Is there a problem?" it buzzed.

"Well, I don't wanna catastrophize, but I'm lookin' through your lower back complex and I'm seein' some stuff that looks an awful lot like buzz bug eggs. Can you run a diagnostics check for me real quick?"

"Affirmative." In a blink of its shutters, it received data from all of its main systems and most of its secondary and tertiary programs and responded.

"Small loop errors in primary memory arrays. Minimal damage to recursive power wiring. Buzz bugs may be a possibility. Suggestion: analyze sample of offending material."

"Will do. Wanna go back to sleep?"

"Negative. We are almost done, correct?"

"If this don't turn out to be an infestation, yeah. What's got you so eager to leave?"

"Nothing. I simply do not enjoy being in maintenance mode for extended periods of time."

"Oh? Why's that?"

67 turned back around and allowed the Mechanic to pry open its back panel and delicately reach through its wiring with a pair of tweezers.

"I dislike being unaware of my surroundings for so long. It is against my purpose."

"It's necessary though, ain't it?"

"As is sleeping. But you are avoiding that now."

"Fair 'nuff."

The silence returned for a few minutes. The Mechanic extricated some pieces of material from 67's wiring and the gaps in their chassis while it sat perfectly still and nearly silent.

Abruptly, a small yellow light on their shoulder lit up and they said, "Your heart rate and breathing have increased."

"Huh?"

"Are you in distress? Is the infestation worse than you expected?"

"Oh, no, nothin' like that. If this is buzz bugs, we caught 'em real early. I could probably get all of this outta you before dawn."

"That is good."

They continued without speaking for a few moments more, the yellow light still turning on and off rhythmically, before 67 spoke up again.

"Your heart rate has not decreased."

"And I suppose I can't ask you to ignore that?"

"Negative. It is against my purpose."

"Right. First aid robot."

The Mechanic pursed their lips and tried to continue their work, but 67 kept talking.

"You hands are shaking slightly. Allow me to check your blood sugar content."

Before the Mechanic could respond, 67 had already completed the check.

"Blood sugar content within healthy range. Brain scan indicates higher than normal levels of oxytocin. Heart rate and breathing rate are increased, but have plateaued."

"Can't keep anythin' secret from you, huh?"

"Negative. You have poor control over your responses to emotion."

"Well, can't say I didn't try."

"Correct. You are still avoiding telling me the reason for your heightened emotional state."

"Would it hurt so bad to let this one go unmentioned?"

"A key to maintaining healthy relationships is communication between constituents. I am curious why you are acting differently."

"It's... complicated. It's a human thing."

"Mechanic, "human things" are my area of expertise. I will understand whatever you tell me."

"I just..." They sighed, but set their tweezers aside and brushed their fingers along a piece of 67's circuitry. "Can you feel this? When I'm workin' on you?"

"To an extent, yes."

"And does it... hurt?"

"Not unless something is damaged. It feels almost the same as when my exterior is touched."

"Almost?"

"There is a level of... trust involved. I trust that you will not break me, you trust that I will not close myself or shock you to injure you."

"When I do this..." the Mechanic traced the column of 67's spine with their index finger, "what is that like?"

"I fail to see why you are asking me again. Did I not just explain it?"

"I know, I know, just.. tell me what you feel me doin'."

"Alright."

A moment's pause.

"I feel you touching the outer shell of my spine. It holds much of my central processing power, which is why it's covered by thick metal plating. But I know you will not try to damage it."

"And now?"

"Now you're moving towards my power cell. It's a very powerful battery, and very fragile. But you will not damage it."

"Now?"

"You're reaching up through my chest cavity towards my transform arrays. This is where most of my proprioceptive senses are processed. It's also highly sensitive to touch. But you will not damage it."

The Mechanic let out a shaky sigh. The blinking yellow light on 67's shoulder began flashing more quickly. They noticed it was in time with their heartbeat.

"Your breathing and heart rate have increased steadily. Is there something you aren't telling me?"

They abruptly pulled their hand out of 67's back and stammered an apology.

"Sorry, I'm - sorry, that - that was kinda weird. I shouldn'ta -"

"It was not unpleasant."

Their words ground to a halt and they stared at the back of 67's head.

"You... motherfucker, you knew this whole time, didn't you?"

67 made a beep that sounded like a laugh.

"Negative. I only realized when I scanned you."

The Mechanic leaned their head against 67's shoulder with a clunk.

"And I couldn't get you to delete this whole interaction from your memories?"

"Negative."

The Mechanic sighed again and leaned back, rubbing their temples.

"Well, that's about it for your checkup anyways. We should probably get goin'."

"Mechanic, I would not refuse if you wanted to take this further."

The Mechanic froze. "Whuh?"

"I do not have the capacity to feel it the same way you do. But I understand it would be enjoyable for you. My purpose, after all, is to ease suffering."

"Wh - but - I - I'm not sufferin' about it, I just -"

"Mechanic."

67 rose and walked around the table, standing very close to the Mechanic and resting a careful hand on their hip. They swallowed thickly.

"We are the only ones in here. We have time."

The Mechanic let out a nervous, breathy chuckle. They raised a hand to 67's face plate and brushed their thumb along it.

"You're amazin', you know that? Just... incredible."

"I know," 67 replied, a playful lilt in its voice. "Tell me if you want me to stop at any point."

"Alright."

67 stepped even closer so that one of its legs was between both of the Mechanic's and they had to lean back against the table. One of their hands rested on 67's shoulder and the other settled on its hip.

67 hooked a thumb over the Mechanic's waistband and tugged down. Its other hand worked its way up their shirt and cupped their chest. It leaned its head down and bonked it gently on the top of theirs.

"Was that supposed to be a kiss?"

"Affirmative."

"You're such a dork."

67 hummed. Its movements remained smooth and steady, but the Mechanic distinctly heard its cooling fans pick up when it tugged their underwear aside.

"Could it be you're enjoyin' this too, 67?" they purred, lifting the hand that was on its shoulder to the back of its head, where they brushed over some of the exposed wires there. Its lower shutter twitched upwards.

"You do look... very nice. Under me like this."

"Mmm. Kinky." They spread their legs further and gasped when 67's searching hands found their bare skin.

"Are you alright?"

"Y-yeah. It's just been a while. Go slow."

"Understood."

Gently, 67 started working its hand, and the Mechanic let out a quiet groan. They rolled their hips into 67's touch, grip tightening on its neck and making its shutter twitch again.

"Is - fuck - is that hurtin' you?" they asked.

"Negative."

"Want me to - to stop?"

"Nnegative."

At the stalling of 67's voice, the Mechanic raised an eyebrow. "Is it gettin' you off or s-something?

"N N N N - Unsure. My proproprocessor has encountered an error."

Experimentally, the Mechanic chose a wire and tugged on it - not enough to break it, but with enough force to pull it partially out of line. 67 jolted forward, making a buzzing sound the Mechanic had never heard before, and its hand dug harshly into their flesh, making them gasp.

"Arrre you alright?" it asked, stopping all motion. The Mechanic whined and pushed against its hand.

"Don't stop," they pleaded.

"One moment. I nnneed to check -"

The Mechanic tugged on the same wire again, creating the same reaction, and sighed with satisfaction.

"Memememechanic," 67 scolded, though the effect was somewhat lost due to the skipping in its voice.

"Keep goin'. I didn't tell you to stop."

"Make me."

The defiance caught the Mechanic off guard, but only for a moment. They glared up at 67.

"Y'know, you're real disobedient for a robot," they growled, finding a different wire and wrapping it around their finger. 67's shutters closed completely this time, its entire body jerking randomly for a moment before the Mechanic let the wire go again. "I thought you were s'posed to follow directions?"

"Youyouyou haven't said the magic word yet," 67 replied, though their hand had begun to move again.

"Make me cum, 67. That's an order."

"Affirmativvve."

The Mechanic cried out at the dizzying pace 67 suddenly set, hips rocking helplessly into its touch. Its name flowed from their lips like a hymn. 67 bore down on them, chest pressed to theirs, free hand supporting their back so they didn't fall.

"Yesyesyesyes, just like that, yes -!"

With a drawn-out moan, the Mechanic came hard, slumping back so that 67 had to adjust its hold on them, completely at its mercy as it kept up the harsh pace of its hand. It slowed to a stop the moment the feeling became too much and their groans of pleasure turned into whimpers.

The pair stayed like that for a moment, the Mechanic struggling to catch their breath and clinging to 67, whose fans were still going at top speed. It stared adoringly down at them, privately recording a short clip to replay later.

"Holy shit," the Mechanic finally breathed, pushing themself upward off of 67's arm. "That was... wow."

"I trust you enjoyed yourself?"

"Yeah. Jesus Christ. Are you... can I - is there anythin' I can do for you?"

"Negative. No part of me can experience anything close to sexual arousal, but I appreciate the consideration."

"So, just outta curiosity, what were the wires doin' to ya?"

That gave 67 pause.

"I'm... unsure. It's not a sensation I've ever felt before."

"Was it bad?"

"Negative. It was... novel. I'm not sure what to make of it."

"So what... would it be okay if I did it again?"

Another pause.

"...Affirmative. Please be careful."

"You know careful's my middle name."

The Mechanic lifted both of their hands and rested them on 67's neck. One slid its fingers over the exposed wires, still slightly out of place, making 67 beep and twitch.

"Why don't you try tellin' me what you feel?" they purred, finding a wire and winding it around their finger. 67 took a moment to respond, its voicebox making nonsense sounds before it could gather it to something intelligible.

"I I I I feel... dizzzzy? I think that wiwiwire has a role in proprioceptive data transfer. It's hard to to to to rrrecall at the moment."

"Mmm. And what about now?" the Mechanic asked, parting the wires and reaching deeper into 67's neck. They felt their finger make contact with cool metal, and 67 made a long, low tone until they lifted it.

"My my my my my centrrrral spinal casinnnnng. It's very sensensensitive to touch, which is is is why it's underrrrneath everything ellllse."

"You're startin' to sound pretty rough, 67."

"Hard to to to prrrocess speech at the momoment. Unsure how to parrrrse sensory dadadadata."

"Still don't want me to stop?"

"Affirrrmative. Want you you you touch furrrrther in me."

"Fuck, that's hot."

The Mechanic moved upward this time, under the plating on the back of 67's head with a muttered "keep your head down." 67's head briefly dropped limply downward, chin hitting its chest with a dull thunk, before the Mechanic hastily removed their hand and it looked back up at them.

"Why did you you stop?"

"That wasn't bad?"

"Negative. Want morrre."

"Oh, I see how it is." They resumed their probing, 67's head falling again, its voice struggling to express exactly what it was feeling.

"Hannnds in my in me touch ch ch ch mind feel I feel your hands," it managed, and the Mechanic bit their lip, looking up at it with adoration in their eyes.

"God, you sound fuckin' wrecked. I wish I knew I could do this to you sooner," they confessed. 67's optic flickered.

"Want want hands want touch morrre so so so much so want want want wannnnnnt -"

Abruptly, its voice dropped so low it was almost a buzz, its optic blinking out, hands in a vise grip on the Mechanic's hips while the lights on its body turned off all at once. Its fans continued on high for a moment more before they lowered to a more normal level and a noise like a dial-up played.

"Shit."

The Mechanic waited nervously while 67 rebooted, slowly releasing their hips before its optic blinked back to life, immediately zeroing in on them.

"Are you okay? Did I touch something I shouldn't've?"

"Negative. I am still processing. Please give me a moment."

After a second or two, 67 spoke again.

"Last sensation recorded before shutdown: foreign object inside cranial casing. Pressure applied to central tactile nerve. Systems overwhelmed." It blinked. "No memory lost. I am in no pain."

"So that tactile nerve thing -"

"I felt... everything. It's hard to explain."

"I think I get it. Don't worry."

"It was... good. I felt good. I would like to do this again sometime."

"Is right now a good sometime? 'Cause that was fuckin' hot."

67's optic widened slightly, disbelief creeping into its voice.

"Causing a temporary shutdown... made you aroused again?"

"It was more like making you get there. But yeah."

"Interesting. In that case..."

67 opened the maintenance panel on its chest, exposing a crisscrossing maze of wires and circuits to the Mechanic, who practically drooled.

"Help yourself to me."

[nebulousboundsfloof]

The primary alteration I did was insert a drawstring in most of the waistbands of my skirts step one is to unpick about 3-5in of the center (ish) of the front of the skirt (or wherever you're sticking your grommets and tails)

I used a pair of pins to mark the start and end of my section. There's two rows of stitching at the waistband you'll have to undo.

The next thing you'll need to do is poke your holes for your grommets (grommets are important to prevent wear on the waistband and unraveling)

Because the materials you are setting the grommets in are very stretchy you want to make that stretch work to your advantage and make the tiniest hole you can get away with (if your hole is too big the material will stretch away from the grommet and the grommet will fall out) I found that only cutting vertical threads in the elastic worked best (and not more than like 3) I used the tip of my seam ripper to gently move the threads over to the sides of the grommet.

The placement of your grommets is very important. You need to make sure there is roughly 1/2 in between the edge of the grommet and the end of your open section so you can fit your setting tool in and that the pair of grommets are not too close together (for me that is about 1-3 in apart, you do want to be able to bridge that gap with your lace)

Next you will thread your drawstring. I'm using 72in shoelaces, use whatever you like. I chose shoelaces because they come with nicely finished ends, are fairly durable and come standard in several sizes. Whatever you use you'll want it to be about 16in longer than your body's widest point (roughly 8in per end to tie with at the most relaxed)

Now while you can feed it without a tool (so long as it has a hard end you can feel and move from outside the waistband a safety pin works ok in a pinch) I strongly recommend using a tool of some kind. The ideal tool for the job is a bodkin (a clamping lacing tool specifically designed for this sort of thing) of course I have consistently failed to aquire one for the last decade or so so I'm using a pair of clamping tweezers (not ideal but workable)

You'll also want to secure the other end (not the feeding end, I usually feed it through the eyelet and tie a decent knot in it and that'll handle it. You will want to start feeding into the waistband on the same side as the eyelet you used as an anchor and away from the other eyelet

Some tips for feeding drawstrings (particularly those paired with elastic)

-Feed your drawstring a few inches then grip the waistband and string in one hand while shoving the gathered material away towards the other end of the channel

-The seams and pockets are the fiddliest bit but a bit of careful wiggling will get you past them (it is an open channel all the way around!!) DO NOT force it gentle wiggling is your friend

-Your hand will probably get tired after a bit don't hurt yourself and feed the next one the opposite way.

-Because of the construction of these skirts I ended up feeding my drawstring along the outside of the elastic inside the outer portion of the waistband feeding from the same side as your drawstring is much easier (even though your grommets are in the inside of the skirt)

Once your drawstring is fed through you are on to the next tricky bit. Sewing.

You probably can hand sew it. I didn't. I'd guess that an invisible hem stitch and a running stitch might be the best way to do that but ymmv. I did mine on a machine, which had it's struggles but also was easier for me.

Sewing directions wil be continued in the reblog because I seem to have hit the image limit.

[itwasntimethatdidit40]

On a razor's edge.

Gif credits

Pairing/Au: Joel Miller x F!reader, no outbreak.

Word counts: 3087

Rating: +18, MDNI, NSFW

Summary: Joel helps you shave. there.

Warnings: pov second person, no use of y/n, smut with very little plot, established relationship, soft Joel, Joel helps to shave your pussy (I also wrote it in the fic but I'll repeat it here, I don't mean to judge anyone's habits, I respect everyone's tastes and habits and everyone can do what they prefer with their body. Do you want to shave? Good. Don't you want it? Good too. For me it's enough that you are comfortable in your body and if you aren't I hope you can be soon), mention to reader's mom who is annoying about shaving, use of a razor, mention of a potential razor cut (it doesn't happen, there’s no blood), unprotected p in v (wrap it up IRL!), I didn't mention Joel or reader’s age but in my mind I imagine them both around 30/40, reader has hair, breasts and vagina, no other specific description of her is given, pussy pronouns, references to pussy as a flower, sex in the shower, oral (f receiving), cream pie, pet names (baby, honey), I think that's all, if by chance I realize I forgot something I'll add it right away.

English is not my first language, no beta, no proofreading, I already know I'm going to notice a lot of mistakes as soon as I post this and I will have to edit again and again because I'm like this, what can we do? 💀

Comments, reblogs and interactions are very much appreciated, please be kind.

Thanks to anyone who will read this!

You love Joel.

You really love him with all your heart and soul.

You also love your private time in the bathroom, that little time in your day that you spend alone doing skincare, face masks, tweezers your eyebrows, scrubbing your body and taking a nice shower with your favorite music playing in the background.

You just took off your favorites eye patches and you're ready to shave with your trusted razor when Joel knocks on the door.

“Honey, we’re going to be late, hurry up” His voice is muffled by the closed door but you can clearly hear a certain apprehension.

You hum as you take out your shaving cream and reply, “I’ll be right there”

Your neighbor invited you to his pool party the other day and of course you enthusiastically accepted.

It’s been so hot lately that being able to enjoy his pool for a while seemed like a dream.

Unfortunately, work kept you busy all week so you couldn't make an appointment with the beautician and you've arrived today with a few hairs on your legs and in your bikini area.

You're not particularly concerned when you can't wax and totally respect those who don't, hair removal is a personal choice and everyone should be able to do what they want with their own body.

Joel doesn't care if you have them or not, he's happy to have you either way and is feral with you regardless. In fact, you suspect he especially likes it when you have some down there but still he never stopped you from choosing for yourself and he never made inappropriate comments.

Anyway, today you planned to wear your favorite bikini and you wouldn't feel comfortable with hair sticking out from the sides of your bottoms.

The fact that a woman must necessarily be hairless down there is something that has been instilled in you since you were a teenager and as much as you manage not to care about it most of the time, when you wear a bikini you still have your mother's voice in your ears telling you to make those hairs disappear.

Ugh, your mother.

You shake your head, get in the shower and wash yourself, body and hair.

Then you spread the shaving foam well on your legs. You pass the razor carefully and rinse.

This neighbor is quite wealthy and Joel has heard that he would like to renovate his house so he is fully intent on offering him a quote with his construction company, which is why he is so worried about being late.

He needs some time to approach him until there are not too many people, have a casual chat and throw out the idea.

You also want to make a good impression since his wife is the head of the neighborhood committee and you want to ask her to convince the neighbor next door to cut down some branches that end up right in your yard filling it with annoying leaves. You tried to talk to him yourself but he is a cheap man and doesn’t want to spend money to have a gardener come and do the work. Joel tried too but to no avail.

Joel, on the other side of the door, is still impatient "baby, what are you doing?" you hear him ask after another 10 minutes have passed.

“I’m getting ready,” you say out loud from the shower as you check to make sure there’s no hair left on your ankles.

“You’ve been in there for an hour, what else do you have to do?”

You giggle, Joel will never understand how long it takes to be the way he always sees you. He’s in the bathroom for a maximum of 20 minutes when he decides to trim his beard, otherwise 10 minutes is more than enough for him to take a shower and come out with a towel around his waist looking as beautiful as a God. It’s so unfair.

“I'm making myself beautiful for you” you shout at him smiling at the thought of his answer which in fact comes exactly as you imagined “Love, you're gorgeous, you don't need to do anything, just get out of there”

“I'm almost done,” you reply as you begin to spread the foam on your bikini area.

“You said the same thing 10 minutes ago and yet you're still there,” he grumbles “and I don't hear water running so I don't understand why”

��You don't understand ‘cause you're a man darling, it's not your fault” you grin while you carefully run the razor to the right of your sex, at the point where your leg attaches to your pelvis.

You can clearly see him in your head rolling his eyes, hands on his hips, his weight resting on his right leg while his left leg is slightly jutted forward, his typical pose when he's annoyed.

“Cut me some slack, baby, you know how much I care about getting this job” he replies

“Yeah I know” you say sweetly “but I can’t come around like that, I need to be extra pretty next to you”

At this point he opens the door, just enough to enter and as he does so he replies "no one has a prettier girlfriend than me, I don't know how many more times I have to tell you"

You're all busy shaving so you don't even notice him until you hear his voice closer than before.

You look up and jump, almost cutting yourself with the razor. “Are you crazy?!” you yell at him. “Joel, I almost cut my thigh because of you!”

“And how was I supposed to know?!” his expression is halfway between embarrassed and horny, his eyes scan your body as if it were the first time he's seeing it, his pupils are dilated, his jaw muscles tense and his lips tight on the verge of curling into a smile, you can see it growing at the corners of his mouth.

Seeing you like this, leaning against the shower wall, completely naked and with nipples hardened from the fright he gave you, his nerves are going away.

“So, what? I have to finish, I certainly can’t go around with only a small part of my bikini area shaved, can I?” you rumble at him feigning irritation but oh, you like the way he's looking at you, hungry and feral. And you like that particular dark shade his eyes take on when they're lit up with desire.

He frowns and asks, “Can I help you?” rubbing his neck.

“Doing this?” you ask, raising an eyebrow, moving from the wall to the center of the shower, razor still clutched in your hand “Joel…”

“Let me try,” he murmurs hoarsely

“Joel, if you cut me…” you say feeling a shiver down your spine, your eyes fixed on his, sparkling in anticipation.

“I won’t. I promise” He is deadly serious.

“Okay” you say with a sigh and you immediately regret having said it.

Joel takes the razor from your hands brushing your fingers slightly and then drop to his knees fully dressed on the wet shower floor without even thinking about it, as if in some kind of lascivious trance. At least he’s barefoot.

The deal, the job, the money seem like a distant, faded memory and the neighbor’s tree? You’ll think about it another day.

His heavy breathing crackles on your skin as he brings the razor close to your skin with the most intent look you've ever seen him do.

He starts with small movements from the bottom up and shaves a small portion of the left side of your pubic area, his hand is firm and precise and he doesn't seem to have any hesitation, however he is proceeding with caution and you are grateful for it, you have been holding your breath since he started.

The razor seems so small in his hand, like a child's toy, yet it has sharp blades that could cut you at any moment if his movements were not precise.

He pulls it away from your skin to shake off excess shaving foam and rinse it under the flexible shower head and you catch your breath.

You flinch for a moment as he brings the razor closer again, “stay still” he tells you in a peremptory voice.

There is something deeply erotic in what he is doing, in his calm and dedication, in his deep knowledge of every curve of your body. It seems like he knows exactly how to move his hand so as not to hurt you.

He rinses the part, then proceeds to take more foam and spread it tickling your skin with his calloused fingers. You're even impressed that he didn't put too much on, just a thin layer, so he can see the part and have full control of what he's doing.

His jeans are now soaked and stuck to his legs and you can see a bulge growing in his crotch.

He stretches your skin with his fingers and runs the razor over you, still in small motions, shaking it, finishing the sides of the top of your pubic bone.

“I need you to lay down, baby, I have to do the bottom part” he says tilting his head to one side to look better at what he has just done.

Joel himself wanted this shower to be big enough for two people, it's his job and he knows how to be far-sighted in this.

It is wide enough for you to lie down and for him to sit between your legs without difficulty.

You bend down and lay your back on the floor “spread your legs” he tells you “keep them raised”

The floor is cool and wet against your skin but you still feel heated.

You crane your neck to look at him and his eyes are focused, deciding how to position you to do the job.

He takes your ankles and bends your legs slightly, if it was a moment when you wanted to laugh you would say that you look like a frog but now you feel like a rose of flesh. A bold, cheeky flower that has blossomed for him.

“Stay like this, can you?”

You nod because you can’t do anything else, you don’t know what to say, you’re hypnotized by his deep breathing and his eyes.

You feel a pulse between your legs.

A heat that starts to rise from below.

He smears a thin veil of foam on the inside of your thighs near your pubic area, he runs his fingers almost absentmindedly near your folds, you know that every movement is thought out, he's purposely ignoring your pussy so he doesn't lose his concentration but you can feel desire creeping through the air between you.

It's thick, heavy, and smells of your perfume that invades your nostrils now that you're playing the obscene dancer for him, with your legs bent as if you had to warm up your muscles before a show.

He draws your edges with the razor, rinsing continuously, you feel the blade glide over you, darting across your skin, only slightly resisting to your roughest hairs.

You feel a glimmer of clear drool dripping between your petals, all the way down to the crack of your butt, that gives away your eagerness.

A couple more gentle swipes and he's done.

You can hear him swallowing nervously, your throat is dry too.

“All done” he whispers, running his fingers over your smooth skin.

You sit up, legs at the sides of his body and tug at his shirt to give him a kiss. You suck his bottom lip between yours, tasting his minty flavor.

You dwell on that ecstatic feeling for a while before you let go of his lips and take a breath back into your lungs.

“Do you want me to shave it all off?” Sometimes you do, you like it when you feel just the soft, just that, that tingles every time he runs his tongue over it.

Shiny as egg white, voracious, naked luscious lips ready to salivate and swallow until they’re full.

But now you can't wait and you know he doesn't care, they're short hairs anyway, you keep them trimmed.

It's just a little line that surrounds your flower to browse.

“No baby, I need you”

The razor is lying on the shower floor, you pick it up and place it on the steel shelf that Joel installed for you to put your things on.

“Mmm tell me what you want” He asks, grinning from ear to ear, his eyes sparkling with lust.

He already knows the answer.

“Fuck me” you plead, voice trembling with excitement “fuck me with your tongue and fingers, please. Fuck me with your cock. Fuck me until I see white and I’m a mumbling mess underneath you”

You put your hand over his bulge, running slowly to his zipper strained and you fiddle your fingers on his button.

You feel him squirming, his eyes feral and mesmerized by your touch and your words.

You open his jeans as he takes off his water-spattered shirt and throws it on the floor outside the shower.

Sitting like this, you notice even more the softness of his belly, that little bit of flesh that you love to bite.

He gets up to get rid of his jeans, now soaked, annoying, heavy, he throws them on the floor and they land with a dull thud.

His boxers are damp and have a big stain on the front, but it's not water. It's his pleasure dripping.

He’s rock hard leaking profusely.

He leans down and gives you a long kiss, looking at you. His hands slide slowly over your arms, slipping onto your hips, squeezing your flesh and your body arches towards him, your tongue quivers on his, every fiber of you reacts and bends gently to him.

He brings a hand to your cheek, deepening the kiss, eagerly licking the inside of your mouth, tasting you.

You moan into his lips as you feel his other hand move up and rest on the side of your breast, his long fingers reach your nipple and trace its contours, they move circling it, he does it first with his thumb and then with his index finger. He passes them over your bud, titillating it, making it harden under his fingertip.

He makes space between your knees again, makes you lay down on the floor, caressing your torso, going down to your ribs, he touches the area just below and whispers “you look beautiful here”.

You like that he appreciates everything about your body, even those parts that others ignore, he sees the overall harmony and knows how to notice the details. He knows the map of your scars and every shade of your skin. He goes down, brushing your navel and then unexpectedly goes back up and takes your lips again.

He sucks.

He tastes.

He drinks.

He lowers himself and leans over your opening. He breathes hard as he gives the first lick, with his tongue flat, crawling from bottom to top, lingering on your clit. He spreads your folds a little with his thumbs and looks at you for a moment whispering “God, baby, you have the most beautiful pussy I’ve ever seen” he inhales your scent “and she’s so wet…” and he licks again “so sweet” another lick “and she tastes so good”

You throw your head back, squeezing your eyes shut, wrapping one hand around the back of his neck, pushing him against you.

He keeps his mouth glued to your slit, his tongue seems everywhere, meticulous and insatiable, it seems he can never get enough.

You listen to his movements with your whole body, as if he were speaking to you, using a language unique to yours.

You feel his hand resting on your hip, you grab his wrist and bring him back to your tit, you don't need to ask him to touch it, he silently takes your nipple between his fingers pinching and twisting.

Your ribcage expand for air, you gasp with your mouth wide open and a long moan leaves your lips rising from deep inside you.

You lift your head to see him, looking disheveled and grateful, his beard glisten with your fluids as two of his thick fingers slide into you.

He traces with his tongue that little stripe of hair he left you, which frames your lips, he caresses them, takes them in his mouth, sucking lightly.

His strong aquiline nose is hitting your clit now, fingers curl to find that perfect spot, the one that makes you see white, like you asked.

You moan in disarray “your cock – God – I want your cock, please Joel”

He gives a couple more licks and then moves, towering over you, kissing you with lips that taste of salt and lemon, of you. It’s your taste, all over his mouth.

He lower his boxers and the tip of his cock presses against your hole, slowly making its way in.

You throw your arms around his neck, giving him sloppy kisses on his sultry skin.

He grunts as he thrusts into you, you wrap your legs around his waist as he slides a hand behind your arched back, pushing you, anchoring himself to you so you don't slip on the wet floor, his knee braced on the floor.

You stammer senselessly yes yes yes, you're both close to your peak.

You feel disarmed, completely enveloped by him, by his body, by his scent.

You're sweaty, even though your skin is still wet, your body contracts against his, waves of pleasure modulating your breathing.

Your orgasm explodes in a long sigh, then it goes silent, you bite your lips, you are overwhelmed.

He takes your hands, intertwines them with his and brings them above your head, sinking relentlessly inside you, hitting again and again, deeper and deeper until you feel thick, sticky stems filling you, painting your walls, dripping from inside you onto your thighs.

His hair is plastered to his forehead, his eyes searching yours as he fills his hands with your ass cheeks, giving the last hard thrusts before he pulls out of you and lets himself go on the shower floor next to you.

You take deep breaths, trying to come back to your senses, your bodies completely exhausted.

“Well,” he says after a while, “we’re officially too late to go now.”

“Do you mind?” you ask, rolling onto your side, tracing his broad chest with your fingertips.

“No,” he replies without even thinking.

You burst out laughing together.

No, this is definitely more important.

[archangeldyke-all]

Hey ! It's my first request ever, so I'm not sure how it work. If you're not confortable with it, feel free to don't respond. I'm kinda obsess with an AMAB Sevika, can you write reader discovering a surprise pregnancy with a sex friend/flirt/crush Sevika ?

I like the way you make her express her feelings, it's pretty accurate with Arcane. Feel free for them to keep the baby or not. Thank you so much and thank you for your work. ^^

sure!!! i got another very similar request too so i'll combine them :)

Amab sevika really be curing my depression

Maybe reader and vika are married and trying for a baby? 🥺🥺 amab sevika is my beloved and I'd die for her

men and minors dni

you guys have been trying to get pregnant for about six months now.

a lot of it's been fun. flipping through baby books together in bed, sending each other videos of cute babies on social media, and the actual baby making process is a blast.

but some of it's hard.

sevika's stopped taking her estrogen to get her sperm count back up. as a result, she's been horribly dysphoric.

you've caught her crying several times, standing in front of the mirror with a pair of tweezers in her hands, her chest irritated from the plucking and picking she'd done. she's become obsessive in shaving her face, doing it two or three times a day. her metabolism's gotten faster without the estrogen, and the 20 or so pounds of extra padding she'd put on her thighs and hips since she started e years ago is starting to fade away.

you try your best to make her feel better, insist that you guys could always try ivf instead, but she's determined to do it 'the old fashioned way.' so, you just hold her when her dysphoria takes hold, pressing kisses to her hair, reminding her you'd love her with a full beard just as much as you love her now.

it's been hard on you too. the more time that goes by without a successful pregnancy, the more you feel like your body's betraying you.

how many times did you and sevika have a pregnancy scare at the beginning of your relationship, before you were ready for kids? hundreds. but now that you're actively trying, your period is as regular as it can possibly be.

you've decided that if you go another month without any success, you're going to throw in the towel and ask your obgyn about ivf. you can't take much more disappointment, and you don't like seeing sevika so depressed all the time.

but then, something happens.

it starts with your tits getting sore.

for a week straight, they're tender to the touch, sore by the end of the night when you take your bra off. you know it's one of the earliest signs of pregnancy, but you don't say anything, not wanting to get your hopes up.

but then you start getting sick in the mornings. you can't hide this from sev, and she's squirming with excitement beside you as she rubs your back while you spew your guts into the toilet below.

"this is amazing." she says, giddy. you groan.

"real amazing sev, i'm feeling great." you say sarcastically. she giggles and presses a kiss to your head.

"i'm sorry, honey." she whispers. you giggle and reach out to hold her hand as another bout of nausea overtakes you.

your period is a day late.

and then two.

you know this. you know sevika knows this. but neither of you say anything, too scared to jinx it.

but when two days becomes three, and then three becomes a full week, you start getting excited.

you don't tell sevika you buy a pregnancy test-- not wanting to disappoint her if it's negative. but you do buy one, and you take it an hour before sevika's meant to get home.

it's positive. you nearly pass out from excitement.

sevika comes home to dinner on the table and flowers in the kitchen.

you sit on her lap the second she sits down, swinging your arms around her shoulders.

she's smiling like she already knows, but she's biting her lip-- worried that she's wrong.

"i got two surprises for you." you say.

"two?!" she asks, her hands clawing into your hips. you smile.

"two." you say, nodding.

you reveal the syringe full of her estrogen to her, raising your eyebrows at her. she blinks.

"what's that?" she asks. you laugh.

"'s only been a few months sev, y' already forgot what your e looks like?" you tease her. she blinks and gulps as you wipe a cool alcohol wipe over her bicep, pinching the skin and bringing the needle up to her arm. you smile at her.

"but what about--"

"don't ruin the second surprise." you scold her as you inject the needle into her muscle, pushing her hormones in and watching as her eyes go wide and sparkly.

she doesn't even notice the sting of the needle-- she's usually such a wimp about it, but tonight, she's got all her attention focused on you.

"does that mean-- are you--"

"pregnant?" you ask as you gently place a bandaid over the tiny puncture wound. sevika's breath catches in her throat and her eyes get watery. you place a kiss on top of the bandage, keeping your eyes locked on hers. sevika's breathing is shaky, tears already streaming down her cheeks. you lean up to kiss them up. "you're gonna be a momma, sev." you whisper against her cheek.

at the words, sevika bolts out of her chair, holding you in her arms and running you to the bedroom. you laugh the whole way.

sevika slams you (gently) down onto the bed before jumping on top of you. one of her hands goes to hold your stomach, the other comes up to cup your cheek.

"are you serious?!" she whispers. you smile and nod, your own tears welling in your eyes.

"took three tests. all positive." you say. sevika whimpers, then swoops down to kiss you.

she fucks you like she's trying to get you pregnant again.

and then, when you're done and she's holding you in your arms, her hand still on your stomach, the both of you catching your breaths, the first thing she says is, "what do you think about athena as a girls name?"

"goddess of war!?" you ask, laughing. "absolutely not. i'm not dealing with another little fighter in the house." you say. sevika giggles.

"but it's badass! nobody'd fuck with her." she says, pouting at you. you laugh. sevika gasps. "she just kicked!" she says, pointing at your belly. you laugh even harder. "she loves it! we have to name her athena now!" she says, teasing.

you groan and push her face away as she chuckles. "you're fuckin' ridiculous." you say between your giggles. sevika grins.

"i love you so much." she whispers, tears forming in her eyes again. your laughter ceases, a sweet watery smile taking its place.

"i love you too." you whisper.

sevika grins and swoops down to kiss your stomach.

"love you too, little fucker." she whispers to your belly.

taglist!

@lesbeaniegreenie @fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @ellabslut @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

[katz-rambles]

hello! proud member of the arcane fandom here, can confirm we are alive and well ! may i suggest a little something with ekko and a gn (or masc) reader? perhaps comforting ekko after the bridge incident of episode 7- thank you ! and take care <3

Yess! I js finished rewatching Arcane today, and the bridge scene is still one of my favorite fight scenes! Take care, as well, Anon!!

1k words, so it's a little on the short side.

(fluff, gn!reader, reader has some medical knowledge (but I don't, so I apologize if this is inaccurate), Ekko's a tease, illusions to sex but nothing actually happens.)

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰

It's safe to say that the day didn't go as planned for either of you. You're waiting at home, pacing around the room. You had a bad feeling about the whole ‘going to topside’ thing Ekko told you about. It's the day after, and there's still no sign of him. Even Scar hasn't heard from him. All your mind does is go to the worst. Could the enforcers have killed him, you don't know, and you're not sure if you'd want to know.

You were hoping that by the time you woke up, he would be there. You spend the whole morning pacing and panicking. You try to take your mind off it by getting out and seeing some of the other firelights.

It works. Talking with them and then playing with a couple of the kids helps. I'm mainly playing with the kids, though. It's fun. They convince you to play house with them, and one of them hands you a little doll. It reminds you of your childhood, and it makes you happy knowing that they get to have a somewhat normal childhood.

There's suddenly a lot of voices and clamoring when the entrance opens. So you go and check it out, it can't hurt to. You have to ,gently, push past some of the small crowd to get to see what's actually going on. “Hey, sweetheart,” Ekko groans and stumbles, and you're quick to wrap your arm around him to help stabilse him. When you look down, you're met with an odd sight. You can check having a councilor inside the fireflights base now. He clings to your side and lets you help him get up into your shared room so you can assess the damage.

You let him sit down on the bed, and he sighs, resting his head back on the headboard. You scan him for any big injuries. There's one that catches your eye, a bleeding wound across his stomach. “It wasn't supposed to go this way,” he starts, helping you lift up his shirt so you have access to the wound and the continuing, “it was just supposed to be, I go across with Vi and the other girl. Give them the stone, and then everything would be better. But no.” He winces when you pat some of the alcohol down on it, cleaning it so you can stitch him up. “I know, I'm sorry.” You sigh and press your free hand on his cheek. One of his hands covers yours, and he leans into your touch.

“This is going to hurt like a bitch, you know.” You warn him and grab a pair of tweezers when you notice the small pieces of metal lodged inside the wound. He lets out a shaky breath and nods, one hand grabbing onto the sheets of the bed. You can hear him wincing and groaning when you start to grab the metal, slowly pulling it out, trying not to hurt him too much. You drop the metal on the nightstand and stand up to grab the stapler. You dab some of the numbing cream around the wound in hopes that it won't hurt too bad when you close it. While you wait for it to kick in, you get on your knees and take a look at his ankle.

“It's not broken. Nothing a splint won't be able to fix.” You say as you feel his ankle for swelling or a broken bone. You grab the wooden splints from the nightstand, glad you grabbed them just in case, and place them on either side, securing them in place with a nice layer of bandages. You grab the stapler and Ekko groans in protest, “oh fuck, is that part really necessary?” You scoff and shrug. “I could just knock you out and do it,” You offer, pulling out a vial of anesthetic from the kit. You laugh when he stares at you like you just grew another head, “besides, I've already numbed the area, so this is the best it's going to be.” You say and press the stapler to his skin, internally wincing every time the sounds of it goes off and Ekko moans and groans with each staple. You thank whoever's listening that you didn't have to do too many staples. You don't think you could handle any more of hearing him in pain before you gave in and actually knocked him out.

“There.. all done.” You smile at him and rub the side of his leg. He nods, and you grab the bandages, wrapping it before you go and grab a new shirt for him to put on and take the old one. “Come here, please?” He asks and grabs your hand, pulling you towards the bed. Who are you to deny him, so you give in and crawl into the bed beside him, careful of his injuries, and lay your head on his shoulder. “Thank you,” he mumbles and kisses your cheek, leaving smaller pecks on your nose and forehead before he kisses your lips, “what would I do without you?” He mumbles against your lips, and you laugh. “I don't know.. staple yourself and probably miss.” You tease, and he scoffs, giving you a glare before he kisses you again. You're just glad he made it home in one piece, and so is he.

“I guess this means I'm on bed rest for a bit, huh?” He mumbles, and you roll your eyes. “When have you ever complained about bed rest?” You scowl, and he laughs, a real laugh, not a fake one to make someone happy, a real one. You kiss him again, and he rests his hands on your waist and pulls you closer to him, his hands going lower until they rest on the curve of your hips and you smack his hands away. “What part of bed rest did you not understand?” You groan and push yourself back, hearing him laugh and rest his head on your chest. Finally resting. You're glad he's here.

[xjaylyn]

PART 5 - Bad Boys: Second Chances

Pairing: Armando x Black! OC (Rya)

Warnings: blood, graphic, guns, death, mature, language (use of the n word), and some other stuff I probably forgot about sorry

Summary: It's been two years since Captain Conrad was framed. Another mission brings the team back together and new relationships are formed. It's said everyone deserves second chances and room to grow. So maybe this is that second chance

A/N: Further down in the story, there are some graphic descriptions that will be warned with red text before you read. In the scene, there could be some triggering words and situations that may be sensitive to a reader, so read at your own risk, please. I don't want anyone to get triggered. This scene will be written in italics. It's not necessary to read for you to understand the story, so you can skip it if you want, but it does provide a deeper look into Rya's past that was mentioned in the previous part. Part 6 will be out tonightt!

(Armando photo creds to @yeahnohoneybye they be having all the good photos bless them😩🙌🏽)

...AMMO HEADQUARTERS...

"Alright, I organized all the files in the drive so we can understand everything when we look over it," Dorn huffs, sitting back in his chair.

After infiltrating the lab, the team headed back to the station to plan their next move. Sitting on the couch in the middle of the room, Rya picked at the little glass shards stuck in her still-cuffed hands. Feeling someone sit next to her, she looks up to see Kelly holding a first aid kit.

"I brought you the first aid kit... there's some tweezers and wound spray... thought you might need it," she says, setting the kit on the coffee table in front of them. Mumbling a small thanks, Rya picks up the kit for the tweezers. Noticing Kelly still there, she looks back up and raises a brow at the girl still staring at her.

"So... an assassin? Umm, that's pretty cool, almost lik—" Kelly starts to ramble before she realizes the deadpan look on Rya's face. Shutting her mouth, she stands up.

"Yeah, sorry, I'll just... leave you be," she nods, walking off back to the others.

Blinking down to her hands, Rya picks up the tweezers, gently taking out the small shards stuck in her skin.

"Ok, so for the really fancy restaurant you have to be on this list to get in, but I was able to work my magic and get Rya on there with no problem. So, we're on for tomorrow. It should be a smooth mission," Kelly says, smiling up at the team.

"Thanks, Kelly... well, I'm calling it a night. It's getting pretty late, make sure you all get some sleep. We got a busy day tomorrow," Rita says, waving at everyone before walking out the door.

"Yeah, it is getting late. We'll see you all in the morning," Kelly says, packing her things, Dorn right behind her doing the same.

"Oh, before I forget, Rya, if you ever need a therapist, I can give you my counselor's number. She's amazing; I really recommend it," Dorn says with a small smile towards Rya. She squints her eyes at him.

"Dorn... just... goodnight... let's leave the therapy talk for another time," Marcus says, waving him off.

"I'm just saying, therapy has helped me with a lot," Dorn says, with his hands up before leaving with Kelly patting his shoulder.

Mike gets up from his desk and walks over to Rya. "Alright kid, I can take these cuffs off since they ain't stopping nothing anyway," he says, grabbing her wrist to unlock the cuffs.

Rubbing her wrist, she can see a purple indent had formed from the cuffs cutting off her circulation. "Thanks," she mumbles.

"You can sleep here tonight. We have a pillow and blanket in that closet over there," Marcus says, picking up his car keys and pointing to a back corner.

"Yeah, we still have to tell our wives about a possible guest staying with us, so for tonight, you just have to stay here. Everything will be locked up, but you have the common room to use. We'll see where you'll be staying at tomorrow. You'll be good on your own?" Mike asks, looking down at the girl.

"Yeah, I'll be fine. I want to look over some stuff anyway," she says, getting up and walking towards the computers.

Saying their goodnights, Rya watched as the pair walked out the door, locking it behind them before waving one final time. Rya pulls up a chair and looks through the different files on the computer.

After an hour of clicking through a couple of photos and documents, she lands on an old photo of her family. She'd never seen the picture before... completely different from the image of them she has buried in the back of her mind, all smiling, naive to the tragedy awaiting them in the future... one she doesn't want to remember. Staring at it for a few minutes, she suddenly feels a pair of eyes on her.

Already knowing who it is, she leans back in the chair and turns her head. "We have a problem?" she asks sternly, raising her brow towards Armando standing by the double doors.

"I don't trust you," he says simply.

"That's fine... I don't quite trust you either," Rya says, crossing her arms, now turning the chair completely towards him.

Walking down the steps, "I recognize you... I couldn't figure it out before, but now I do," he states, stopping to lean on the middle table, looking down at the girl in front of him. "You almost killed my mother a few years ago."

Staring at him for a little bit, she tilts her head. "Your mother is Isabel Aretas, right?" she says more as a statement than a question, already knowing the answer.

"Well... seems like someone got to her before me, so," she shrugs, turning her chair back to the computer screen. Noticing he was still quiet, she looked back to see him glaring at her, clenching his jaw. "No offense."

Armando shakes his head before sitting in the chair next to the table. "I don't believe you completely went rogue... if what you say is true about him controlling you, then you still have some loyalty left in you," he says, crossing his arms.

"You're right... but couldn't the same be said for you? Some loyalty should be left to the cartel, you know... since they raised you," she says, raising a brow.

"The only person that raised me is my mother... I don't owe loyalty to anyone anymore."

"Your mother kept and trained you to do her dirty work, there's a difference," she deadpans the man in front of her. Ready for the conversation to end, she couldn't care less about his opinion because it wasn't his help that she needed; he was just there.

Noticing his expression change for a split second, she can tell the statement caught him off guard, but he quickly recovered. Armando gets up from the chair and walks towards the door. "You got one time to fuck up," he says, looking back at her. "I won't hesitate to utilize what my mother trained me to do."

Hearing the door shut, Rya stares at the spot Armando once filled. Feeling her eyes get heavy, she sighs and makes her way towards the closet in the back corner to grab a blanket and pillow.

Walking back to the couch, she passes the computer screen that still displayed the old family photo. Stopping for a second, she closes out the tab and makes her way to the couch. Laying down, she stared at the ceiling until her eyes closed.

---------------------------------------------------------

*WARNING: GRAPHIC DESCRIPTIONS, NOT FOR WEAK STOMACHS, TRIGGERING SCENES AND WORDS COULD BE MENTIONED*

"Please... please... no more... please."

Strained pleas sounded from the man on the blood-stained floor. Another sound of ripped flesh and cracked bones could be heard, causing the man to cringe, close his eyes, and weep.

"Open your eyes," the uniformed man demanded before kneeling down next to the man, gripping a chunk of his hair, forcing his head up to watch the scene in front of him. His dead wife's body, covered entirely in blood, had open wounds all over her body as the suited man above her continued to mutilate her.

The man stands up, towering over her lifeless form, fixing his suit. Bloodied hands push his hair back from his face.

"What did I tell you would happen, huh?" the man huffs, staring down at the man.

"You thought you could betray me? And get away with it?" The man slowly walks to the man's beaten form.

"Kill me... please... don't do this to them... I betrayed you. I betrayed you... I BETRAYED YOU KILL ME DAMMIT," he begs, glaring back at the man.

"Oh... I was planning on that whether you asked me to or not," the man chuckled.

The grunts of the man flowed through the young girl's ears watching from the side. Both stared at the scene in front of them. One stood with dried-up tears and swollen red eyes, hiccups coming from her body every few seconds. Numbness flowed through her body. Slowly shifting her eyes from the scene in front of her, she looks at her younger sister sobbing in the uniformed man's arms. His gloved hand roughly covered her mouth to silence her, but it remained ineffective as you could still hear her strained screams.

She could feel her tears stream down her face, scared for what's to come. She could feel her body shaking, forcing the man holding her to tighten his grip to keep her still, causing a sob to form out of her body.

"Daddy, I'm scared," she cried for the bloodied man on the floor. She looks as her father's eyes meet hers. Her hero... the strongest man she knows... weak and scared on the floor. His lifeless eyes stared at her. All hope for her gone. She feels her body get tugged out of the room, her sister's screams flood her mind.

"Do as I say... and you and your sister will be free," the voice sounds through her mind.

She feels the heat of his rough hands caress her face, burning her cheek.

"Do as I say... and you and your sister will be free!"

*END WARNING*

Jumping up out of her sleep, Rya gasps while holding her chest to catch her breath. She can feel how damp her shirt is and her hair sticking to her forehead. Sweat covered her body. Feeling like her body is on fire, she hurries to push the covers off her completely, sitting up on the small couch.

Looking around, she realizes she is still at the station. Feeling her body relax, sitting there for a second, her hands grip the ends of the couch. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath.

'Jesus Christ.'

She opens her eyes after a while. Furrowing her brows, she brings her hands up to her cheek. Looking down at her fingers, she notices a wet substance on them: tears.

Shaking her head, she gets up and makes her way to the water machine to pour herself a cup of water.

It’s been a long time since she has had that nightmare. It used to occur every night that first month, but then it suddenly stopped. The last image of her parents was something she buried deep in the back of her mind. That photo must have brought it to the surface. Looking up at the clock to see what time it is, the time reads 3:40 in the morning.

Looking back at the couch, she decides to make her way over to the computers to read over the files again. Not wanting to risk having that nightmare again. She couldn’t go back to that stage in her life... she refused.

---------------------------------------------------------

Hearing the doors open, Rya's tired eyes looks up from the computer screen, watching Marcus make his way into the room.

"Good morning. You look like shit... didn’t we tell you to get some sleep?" he said, placing his plate on his desk, taking off his jacket, and looking over at the girl hunched over in the chair.

Rolling her eyes, she leans back in the chair, dropping her legs to the floor to stretch a little bit. "I got caught up," she yawned.

"Uh-huh... caught up in an apocalypse. How are you supposed to work your lady magic at the restaurant when you look like a walker from The Walking Dead?"

"Hey, leave her alone, Marcus. She does not look that bad," Kelly says, walking in. "Besides, that couch is not the most comfortable, so I can’t blame her for not getting any sleep." She looks over at Rya, mouthing, "Ignore him."

Shaking her head, Rya looks back at the screen in front of her, ignoring the comment from Marcus.

"DAMN, did you get in a fight last night while we were gone?" Mike says, walking into the room with Armando next to him, dropping his stuff in his seat. She can hear Marcus laughing behind her.

The sound of whistling can be heard as Dorn walks into the room. Saying good morning to everyone, he stops in his tracks when he sees Rya. "Heyyy Rya... rough night?"

Dropping her hand on the desk, she looks up from the screen with a huff. "Y’all got one more time to comment on my appearance," she says, fed up.

"Woah, don’t bite, walker. I don’t want the smoke," Marcus jokes, smiling with his hands up. He and Mike snicker at each other. "That was good."

"Alright, enough. Let’s get serious. We have a lot to do." Rita sighs, standing in front of everyone, causing them to change their focus to their boss.

"Today, Rya is going to get information from Sergio’s two best dealers. Dorn, I need you to make sure all of your drones are up and running. Kelly, make sure Rya’s necklace has audio and footage. Mike and Marcus, I need you two to make sure all areas are secure and that we have a safe exit for Rya in case she needs to escape. Armando, we need you for backup in case anything goes wrong, so be ready. Does everyone remember the plan?" She asks, looking at the team, all nodding their heads.

"Good... Rya... make sure to freshen up. We need you to look the part for this to work." She smirks, watching as the woman rolls her eyes before making her way to the locker rooms.

"Dammit, I left the dress for Rya to wear at my place, and I still have to fix her necklace," Kelly huffs, throwing her bag down.

"It’s okay, Kells. Armando can take Rya to get it when she’s out of the shower," Mike says, leaning back in his chair.

"I never said that," Armando huffs from the couch.

"Didn’t have to. Look, you two got to get along or at least tolerate each other so we can all work together," Mike says, looking over at his son.

The two stare at each other for a bit until Armando lets up and nods his head. "She has one chance."

---------------------------------------------------------

'Well, this is great.'

Sitting in the front seat, Rya glanced over at Armando gripping the steering wheel, focused on the road. It’s only been 10 minutes of them together, and the ride was already intense. Taking a breath, Rya looked back out of the window, watching the buildings go by.

"I never tried to kill your mother," she starts. She can feel his eyes look at her for a second.

"You shot at her and missed, killing the person behind her," he said, staring back at her.

She scoffed at that before shaking her head. "That’s because I was aiming for the person behind her... trust me, if I wanted to kill her, I wouldn’t have missed... I never miss," she says, looking at Armando.

The two stare at each other for a second without saying anything. Realizing how long they were holding their stares, Rya lifts a brow at the man. "The road still exists, you know? I would watch it if you don’t want to get us killed." Breaking the eye contact, she looks back out the window.

"If I wanted to kill you, it would’ve been done by now and not in a car accident," he says focusing back on the road in front of him.

"Yeah, but I would’ve had to be on your mommy’s hit list for that to happen, huh?" She rolls her eyes.

Pulling over the car, Armando parks to take off his seatbelt and look at the girl in the passenger seat.

"I told you you had one chance. Bring up my mother again, and I will end all this shit."

Raising both brows, Rya looks over to Armando. "Nigga, I will have yo ass sent back to the fucking cartel in a body bag. You ain’t ending shit," she crosses her arms, looking at the man in front of her like he was crazy.

Huffing before closing his eyes, he sits back in the seat before calmly speaking, "Rya... go inside and grab the dress."

Looking past his form, she notices that they were in front of Kelly’s house. Squinting her eyes back to Armando, she unbuckles her seatbelt to get out.

"I’m going because I have to, not because you told me to."

"Ry-"

Before he could finish whatever he was going to say, she stepped out of the car and purposely slammed the car door. After a few minutes, Armando looks back up to see her walking back to the car bag in hand.

"Got the dress. Let's go," she said, not making eye contact with him.

Armando nodded and started the car, pulling away from the curb. The rest of the drive back to the station was quiet. When they arrived, Rya got out of the car without a word and headed straight into the station with Armando following behind.

"Well damn, what happened between you two?" Marcus asked, feeling the tension between the two as they walked in. Both of them ignored him and went their own ways.

"I ain't want to know anyway... damn," Marcus said, sitting back down. Looking over at his partner, he pointed back at where the two had been standing.

"Those two need some therapy, and I mean real-ass trauma-dumping therapy."

"Marcus, shut up," Mike said, shaking his head

Tag list: (lmk if you want to be added)

@blackgirlmagicforever @believeinthefireflies95 @wizewhispers @omg-mymelaninisbeautiful @sarcasticbitchsblog @maybepersuasivetom @d4rno @honggihwa @literallegendicon @ninacutebee16 @hannie-squirrel00 @themainacc @stressedmess-21

[boxturret]

How to get Stickers/Tape off of boxes

There's nothing worse than spending money on a sealed Bionicle set, or just tracking down one with the box, only to find that some criminal went and stuck things all over it.

This is a problem that I've faced a lot, and have found a pretty good solution to!

First, blast the sticker with a hair dryer. This will soften the adhesive and allow you to get a small knife underneath an edge

Then you can start carefully peeling it up. Ideally you would use some tweezers to grip the sticker, but none of mine have enough grip so I just end up sing my fingers. My fingers are very sore afterwards from all the hot air...

Now while this removed the sticker itself there's probably a lot of adhesive left on the box.

You could try washing it, but water and cardboard don't mix...so recently I found that Blutack works amazingly well!

You simply roll it over the surface gently, and slowly but surely the blutack will stick to the adhesive and pull it off!. It will take quite a while, and its a bit hard to roll it with burnt fingers, so maybe don't do the two steps back to back...

But eventually your work will be rewarded! A nice clean box to enjoy.

Here's another example. Note: near edges or parts where the cardboard has torn you have to be very careful, as the blutack is strong enough to tear the cardboard up. But a slight dab of glue on the underside is enough to repair it.

Also: This specifically is an English brand of Blutack, the north american version is different so I'm not sure how well it would work, so be ware.

[eventinelysplayground]

This is my entry for @judejazza 300 follower event Invitation to Crown. I haven't read any translations for the game or anything so I am just going off of the info about the characters that has been released in english so far and what I've seen of them in others routes. Time will tell how in or out of character this fic is but it was a fun ride. I chose the prompts linked fingers and dressed in love. The cats curiosity seems to be rubbing off on you causing you to pay a visit to Crowns resident physician. SFW, tiny bit suggestive WC 1178. Crown banner from @natimiles.

Almost Caught.

“You need to be more careful, lil lady.”

“I know and I'm sorry for making extra work for you Roger.”

You walked behind Roger cradling your left hand and chastising yourself as he gathered up his supplies. You're normally not so careless or curious but…

“I think Liam's curiosity is rubbing off on me.”

You were mumbling that to yourself but Roger let out a chuckle.

“Well I definitely don't need another curious cat to treat now, come ‘ere.”

Roger patted a spot on his desk he had cleared off and you blinked at him.

“You don't want me to sit in a chair?”

“Nah the closer you are to my height the easier it'll be to dig ‘em out.”

“Okay.”

You walk over to the desk and sigh. You aren't sure you can get up using only one hand. Just as that thought passes through your mind big warm hands grab you by the waist lifting you up and setting you down on the desk. You feel your cheeks starting to flush and you breathe out a sigh of relief as Roger lets go of your waist.

“Thanks.”

Roger shoots you a mischievous grin as he takes your left hand in his.

“Don't mention it, now let's take a closer look at this.”

Roger began examining your palm while his thumb slowly caressed your pinky. You tell yourself to calm down, that he’s just taking a look and nothing more is going on here.

“I don't think I've seen so many splinters at once before. Looks like most of them are big enough though this shouldn't take too long.”

“Oh...”

You can hear the disappointment in your voice and grimace internally.

“No need to sound so disappointed I-”

“I'm not disappointed! You must be hearing things.”

“Hehe if you say so little lady, now hold still for me.”

Roger's thumb gently wraps around the tips of your fingers holding them in place. He picks up a pair of tweezers and carefully starts pulling the splinters from your hand as you watch in rapt attention. You notice his gaze although serious is soft and your heart skips a beat every time you feel his thumb caress your fingers as he holds them still.

Deep breaths, he’s just doing this so he can get the splinters out.

As the last splinter was pulled out Roger looked up at you. His eyes were shining and when he smiled at you it became impossible to look away from him. Your eyes locked together he gingerly runs his fingers over your palm and you swallow hard.

“Well, thank you for taking them out. I promise to be careful in the future.”

You pull your hand away and go to hop off the desk but Roger grabs you by the waist and holds you in place.

“Whoa not so fast there, I still need to clean and dress your wounds.”

“Oh, no you don't have to I mean I've already interrupted your work enough-”

Roger's warm hands move down to grab your hips. He pulls you closer to him and presses his thigh between your knees.

“What kind of doctor would I be if I let you go before I finished treating you.”

Your heart's beating so loud that even without his curse you're sure Roger would still be able to hear it.

“Okay.”

Calm down, just calm down. You heard him, he's just doing his job as a doctor, nothing more.

Roger flashes you a grin as he lets go of your hips and picks up a bottle and cloth. He takes your left hand in his again and despite your earlier warning to it not only does your heart not calm down it beats even faster.

“Something else bothering you? You seem flushed and your skin feels pretty warm.”

“No just the splinters, everything else is fine!”

Your voice came out an octave or two higher than you intended it to and Roger chuckled.The iodine stings as it hits your skin causing you to suck in a sharp breath.

“I’ll be done before you know it.”

You let out a sigh and a silent prayer for your heart to please just listen to you. As you finish praying Roger puts down the cloth and grabs the roll of gauze. His skillful fingers move quickly as he wraps the gauze around your hand tying it off with a neat and sturdy knot.

Phew, now I can just go to my room and have a heart attack in peace and quiet.

Just as you thought you were free Roger kisses the palm of your hand before lacing your fingers together.

“What are you doing?”

“Just finishing up the treatment. There's no proof a kiss has any effect on the healing process but no harm in being thorough.”

Fingers still laced together Roger twists your hand and plants a kiss on the back of it before he pulls you to him.

“Though are you sure you're alright? You're even more flushed than earlier and your heart's beating out of control.”

“I…”

Your eyes meet Rogers and reflected in them is your own yearning and desire. It's clear to both of you that each of your feelings have evolved into something more. You close your eyes in anticipation of the kiss you've waited so long for. You feel his hot breath against your lips but instead of a kiss you get a growl.

“Damn it.”

Roger pulls away from you before lifting you off the desk and crossing his arms across his chest.

“Come back and see me tomorrow and I'll redress your wound for you.”

You're about to ask him what's going on when you hear footsteps on the stairs followed by familiar voices.

“Hey Roger?”

“Ya I heard you, sit down.”

“Oh, we didn't know you were busy.”

Harrison reached the bottom of the stairs first followed by Alfons who despite bleeding from his arm smiled at you mischievously.

“We're all done here, the lil lady just got a few splinters in her hand.”

“Oh really?”

Alfons took a seat on the chair and started taking off his jacket while Harrison leaned against the baluster.

“Yes I was just a little careless that's all, that looks pretty bad though.”

“This is nothing. Are you sure you're alright though? You look absolutely flushed.”

Alfons grin widened making you blush even more as you walked towards the stairs.

“I'm fine.”

“That's a lie.”

Now Harrison was the one with the huge grin on his face and you raced up the stairs as fast as your legs would carry you before you died of embarrassment. You heard their laughter floating up behind you followed by a sharp hiss as you ran out the door.

Back in the lab Alfons was glaring daggers at Roger who just shrugged.

“I had to disinfect the wound.”

“By pouring the whole bottle on it?”

“No, the whole bottle was for interrupting my hunt.”

Alfons just groaned and Harrison shot Roger a knowing smile.

“Cheer up doc, there's always tomorrow.”

[beamtori]

𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐝.

nonidol!ji changmin x afab!reader

2.4k words (HELP it's only this long bc there's like an actual plot low-key 😭💀), smut (minors dni), cunnilingus (face sitting/riding), cum drinking(??), kind of fingering?, kissing, swearing, descriptions of blood/stitching, mentions of violence/fighting/weaponry, changmin's a boxer? fighter dude?, a lot of arguing and banter, use of pet names (spitfire, baby), angst HAHA!

a/n: once again, this was FOR ME. :l if im being so for real tho, i should have made them fuck piv bc that would have actually scratched my itch, but i just had to go and make him injured 🙄

Ji Changmin was stupid.

"You are so—"

"Stupid? Yeah, you've said that five times already."

"—annoying," you finished with a snide, little smile, relishing in the way his pretty eyes rolled. You gave the thread between your fingers a forceful tug through your gritted teeth to snap the end off; a part of you loved the way he flinched.

You and he were currently holed up in the dimly lit space of your bedroom where he was getting blood all over your sheets, and stupidity all over your floor. (Did you say you thought he was stupid yet? No? Well, he was stupid.) The idiot had gone and gotten his stitches ripped out again, which was the exact opposite of what you told him to do.

You stood looming over him between his legs to take a look at his busted shoulder. The last time, he had gone out and gotten it sliced open. That would teach him to bring a gun next time—you shouldn't even talk about his fists. That would make you pop a blood vessel. His damn knuckles were split open like a row of splattered blueberries—blue and purple and ugh.

"When I come home for the day, the last thing I ever plan to do is more work," you muttered to him as you threaded your needle and began stitching up his gash again.

He winced slightly, digging his teeth into his bottom lip. "So you're saying you've never planned to do me?"

You met his eyes for a split second. His eyebrows flicked upward in suggestion; you made a particularly generous piercing into his skin.

"Shit," he hissed, sucking in a breath. "I said I was sorry."

"For what."

"For doing my job—"

Your eyes narrowed into a glare. "Your job? Your fucking job isn't to get the shit beat out of you every other night, Changmin."

"Oh, so you care now?" He fired back.

Your mouth snapped shut and you continued to work quietly. It wasn't like you didn't care about the nitwit, but you weren't about to admit it point-blank. His ears would never hear that you cared that much, but here you were, letting him into your apartment at god knew what time it was to patch him up again. You didn't know why he always came to you. You quit the boxing ring infirmary months ago, and yet, he always ended up at your doorstep.

When he realized you weren't going to say anything, his uninjured arm took your jaw between his fingers. He looked you in the eyes—you saw the dim lighting of the bedside lamp light a fire in his gaze. Or had that always been there? "You care about me."

You tore your head away. "Oh, fuck you."

His grin was wolfish. "Is that an invitation?"

"One day—" you huffed, knotting the thread and tossing the bloodied needle and tweezers onto the nightstand, "—I'm gonna rip you a new one, Ji Changmin. Or maybe you don't need one 'cause you're already a huge asshole."

He gazed at you, and you weren't sure what it was, but he looked enamored. "Fuck—can you just sit on my face already?"

Everything halted for you. "What?"

"Come on, spitfire; you heard me." His head cocked to the side in challenge. "Sit on my face. My arm might be useless, but my tongue sure isn't—"

"I'll be back," you interrupted sharply before your face got any hotter. You could feel his eyes on you as you scurried into the bathroom next door like a little field mouse.

His audacity was going to drive you to insanity one day.

You found the extra package of gauze and bandages in your medicine cabinet, the ones you had forgotten to grab when he'd come stumbling into your bedroom. You weren't sure why you hadn't forced him onto the kitchen counter like usual, but that was a worry for another time.

He was still there waiting for you. Your gloved hands were bloody and there was a pile of tissues on the ground that you would have to clean up later. You returned to your space between his legs and felt his heavy gaze on you as you pressed gauze to his shoulder and began to wrap his arm back up.

"Yn, I'm sorry."

You pressed your lips together, finishing off the wrap with a small pat on the side of his arm. "You're good to go," you said, "now leave so I can clean up."

You were snapping off your gloves when you heard him get up and approach you. "Yn."

"Don't wanna hear it." You kind of did want to hear it, but that wasn't the point. The point was that you needed to stand your ground and ensure he wasn't about to come running back to you every single time he fucked up.

Hands on your shoulders. The world spun for a quick second. He pressed you up against the bathroom door with the gloves dangling from your fingers and your dignity just two seconds away from dropping. You could see the gleam of sweat on his brow, how deep his dimples dipped into his cheeks; you could smell his musk and the blood, the latter having been slightly muffled now that the wound was closed up, but there was still the matter of all the other blood-stained surfaces.

"If this is another thing to get me in bed with you, then you can forget about it," you said. It happened twice before; you really couldn't do it a third time.

"Can you just listen to me for once?"

"Ah, so just like all the times you listened to me?"

Changmin fixed you with a look. "Has it ever fucking occurred to you that I keep getting hurt so I have an excuse to come see you again?"

Your breath hitched. No, that had certainly not occurred to you. But why would he deliberately get hurt all the time just to see you? Could he not just… see you? Then again, you probably would have still been skeptical of his motives—

"No matter how hard I get hit, Yn; no matter how hard you pinch me with your fucking needle—"

"Why?" You asked. Though the word was soft, it was enough to cut through.

He blinked, his good arm bracing against the door behind you. "Isn't it obvious? I like your stupid face."

Your heart slammed against your ribcage. You could hear it thundering in your ears, the battering of a drum. "You're insane," you swallowed.

"Insane about you." He let out something akin to a laugh, head ducking, but you could see the imprint of dimples in his cheeks. "Isn't that crazy? I'm doing all of this shit because I didn't have the balls to just tell you from the get go."

Changmin dropped his hand to your face, the rough pads of his fingers finding your chin again. His eyes met yours and you could see the softness of the corners, the tenderness of his irises as he looked at you. Perhaps the fire you always saw sparked in them were there for a reason different from what you assumed.

"You're not gonna say anything?" He murmured with a swallow. "Not gonna give me a piece of that spitfire mind this time?" Had he read the signs wrong?

"Why would you go and get yourself beat up just to see me?" That was all you were able to get out of your mouth.

He licked his lips. "'Cause I—I don't know. I'm stupid. Wanted an excuse for you to touch me."

"Glad we can agree on something," you said. "But I like your stupid face, too."

And it was the lack of space that coaxed you into pressing your lips against his. Or maybe it was the coat of saliva over them that made them look so appetizing. Or maybe, more simply, this was long overdue. Twice you had fallen into bed with the boxer, and yet, you couldn't count the number of times you'd shared a kiss with him, shared the same air as him.

You were careful about his injured shoulder, the corresponding arm draping around your waist while the other still clutched your chin, but now cupped your cheek.

A moan slipped out of you as he swiped his tongue over your lip and into your mouth. Your back pressed flush against the door, your body shoved between it and Changmin.

"Wanna taste you," he husked between kisses, taking every breath from your lungs like a souvenir for him to keep. "I have to taste you—been craving you for weeks."

His words curled something sweet in your belly, but you had to protest. "Your shoulder—"

"Fuck my shoulder."

You shoved him off for a second, the both of you heaving for oxygen with pupils dark and dilated. "What do you mean 'fuck my shoulder?' I just fixed the stitches, Changmin."

He exhaled and carded a hand through his hair, taking one of your hands pressed to his chest into his. "Then sit on my face. I don't have to be on top this time."

"You're impossible."

"Not impossible," he shook his head, a smile working its way onto his face.

You sighed as he kissed you again.

That was how you ended up backing him up against the edge of your bed and pushing him down to take a seat. He grabbed your waist with his hands as you stood between his legs, lips molded into yours. You placed your palm on his chest to coax him backwards.

You climbed over him, letting yourself straddle his waist.

His fingers slid down the front of your body to cup you through the fabric of your shorts. "You wet for me?" He muttered.

"Bone fucking dry," you quipped.

His fingers slipped beneath the waistband and you felt him smirk. "Liar."

He found the wet spot in your panties, dragging his fingers in lazy circles like he was collecting your arousal as proof. You made a soft noise against his mouth and subtly grinded yourself into his digits.

"Okay, get your cute butt up here," he said and abruptly removed his fingers from you, giving your ass an affectionate pat.

You sat down on the bed beside him to kick your shorts and panties off. "You're so demanding," you grumbled, but straddled him again and slowly inched yourself up.

He grabbed your hips and hauled you over his face for you, a squeak falling out of your mouth. "You were going too slow," he said to you with his voice slightly muffled.

"And I haven't done this before." You let out a shuddering breath, bracing your palms on the bed above his head. His breath on your wet lower lips made you grasp at his hair.

"Baby's a little shy?" He cooed, massaging your hip with his hand. "Oh, fuck me. Sit, Yn."

"I'm literally—oh."

The flat of his tongue pressed against your pussy and licked a generous stripe up your opening.

You swore and grinded yourself down onto his mouth. "Are you—" you gasped, his lips suckling your clit, "—can you even breathe?"

"Why would I wanna breathe? I'm doing just fine," Changmin replied in a heavy daze. You heard him inhale deeply and moan. The sound itself was enough to make your thighs shake around his head.

He prodded your opening with his tongue, fingers digging into the globes of your ass like he was holding a bowl and drinking from it. Tongue fucking you open, his nose bumped against your clit with the movement. That telltale tension slowly built and curled in your belly, a warm coil of something molten.

You weren't sure how he was even curling his tongue so far up into you, but you grappled his strands of hair like reigns and rode him. The pleasure mounting in you was sweet and you were growing desperate—you writhed on top of him, his name engraving itself in your mouth.

"Changmin," you gasped in your frantic chase for release.

His reply was a strong hand anchoring you to his mouth, encouraging you to use him for your own pleasure.

When that high came, you cried out, body staggering forward. His hands still chained you to him as he slurped your slick up. The sound was obscene, and seemed to echo in the walls of your bedroom. Your thighs convulsed from the extra stimulation.

You huffed, brain muddled. "Fucking hell," you said through labored breaths, gently lowering yourself onto the bed next to him when he loosened his grip.

The sight of his face was nearly enough to make you come again. His skin glistened with your come, eyes glazed over and dark as he looked at you with his head lolled to the side. His lips were pink and plump, and his tongue darted out to swipe over them as if he were catching any residual fluid.

"You doing okay over there, Min?" You asked, leaning over to brush his bangs from his forehead.

"Yeah, I'm—" he let out a laugh and his mouth curled into a smile, "—I'm fantastic."

You laughed, hanging your head.

"I've always wanted to do that," he admitted.

"Yeah?"

"Even better than I thought, to be honest."

Your skin heated at his words, and his warm chuckle following sent a jolt down to your core. He reached over with his good arm to thumb your chin up. "I meant what I said, by the way."

"That you're stupid?"

He rolled his eyes, and shook your head with his hand. "No—that I'm crazy about you."

There went your heart again. The organ in your chest never failed to skip every other beat when it came to him. He just had a way of making you trip in the best way possible.

You squeezed your thighs together, his eyes darting at the movement. "Wish you would have just told me sooner."

"I should've," he agreed. "But let me make it up to you now."

You crawled over him and lowered your lips over his; you could still taste yourself on his tongue. "Not with this injured shoulder, you're not."

He groaned in protest, reaching around your body to pinch your side. "Damn."

"But," you drawled while sliding your hand down the length of his body and cupping his cock through his jeans.

His hand grabbed at your thigh as he moaned into your mouth.

"That doesn't mean I can't do anything for you."

a/n: imagine the image in the banner is how he looks post-this-fic

tbz m.list

[universallyintertwined]

(Warning: anti shifters)

I'M GONNA PLUCK MY PUBES OUT WITH TWEEZERS OMG

I just wanted to scroll on pinterest, nothing new. I have the day off school, and I've finished my homework. I was gonna do a shifting based day today, so I'm cooking food, and I'm just tryna think about my dr. AND WHAT DO I SEE ON PINTEREST???

ANTI SHIFTERS BRO.

I just want 5 MINUTES WHERE IM NOT BEING PUT DOWN BY ANTI SHIFTERS.

What's worse is I saw a shifter say how it's was just GLORIFIED LUCID DREAMING.

HOW BRO??

When you lucid dream, you wake up back in your OR, the morning after, cause you're still in your OR AND YOURE SUBCONCIANCE IS GONNA WAKE UP HERE CAUSE IT DIDNT EVEN LEAVEEE. AND WHEN YOU SHIFT, YOUR SUBCONSCIOUS CAN COME BACK HERE AND ITS A COMPLETLEY DIFFERENT FUCKING DAY (if that's what you scripted).

I KNOW ONLINE THAT HAVE SHIFTED FOR WEEKS AND THEIR LIFE HAS JUST CARRIED ON HERE LIKE NOTHINS HAPPEND BRO

I'm gonna be fr, I got so close to shifting last night and idgaf abt if people say "well symptoms don't matter" THEY MATTER TO ME BRO. I SAW FLASHING LIGHTS, I HEARD DOGS BARKING AND LOUD CARS LIKE I SAID I WOULD. I GENUINELY FELT MY SURROUNDINGS CHANGE SORTVE. GANG, I WAS LITERALLY ALMOST THERE, BUT MY STUPID ASS RELATIVE HAD TO COUGH THEIR WAY THROUGH THE NIGHT, AND THEN I COULNT SLEEP, AND THEN MY FRIENDS DROPPED ME SO I COULDNT STOP THINKIN ABOUT THAT AND THEN I ENDED UP JUST GOING ON MY PHONE TO TRY TIRE MYSELF AND IT DIDNT WORK AND I COULDNT GET COMFY AND THAT WAS TAKING MY MIND OFF OF SHIFTING. Plus my nose is like congested to FUCK so I'm STRUGGLING TO BREATHE AND AHHHHWHSHDUJDJSBSIDJEBJSJSVEJEJDHDHEHEHH

gang I just need to speak to someone that has shifted. Like, I mean shift all the time and spend weeks in their dr. I just need to speak to a shifter that has shifted and has felt what I've felt ngl.