#and i know i'm going to mess up from time to time

[fleurvi]

Big Chested S/O | Arcane Women

request for arcane women with big titty gfs

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genre: smut (minors dni)

characters: ambessa, caitlyn, grayson, mel, sevika, vi

cw: fem!reader, big chested!reader, titty play, titty sucking, marking (vi), titty slapping (grayson), strap on sex (grayson, sevika)

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Ambessa Medarda

Ambessa cannot keep her hands to herself. She had invited you to soak in the bath with her and cleared the attendants and guards from the room when you first entered, leaving the two of you alone. You're sitting between her legs with your head against her chest.

Within minutes, her hands reach around to your chest. She squeezes roughly; she treasures you, but you're a grown woman and can take some rough handling.

“Touch yourself for me”, she all but orders, and you listen, hand slipping beneath the warm water to play with your slit while she gropes your tits and rolls your nipples between her fingers. “Does that feel good?”

✩♬ ₊˚.✂️⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Caitlyn Kiramman

DIABOLICAL ORAL FIXATION.

Cait finally comes to bed and finds you lying awake with a book. “You didn't have to wait for me,” she says, crawling over to your lap instead of her own side of the bed.

“I'll always wait for you, you know that”, you sigh in response. She pulls you into a kiss to show appreciation before trailing her lips down your neck and collarbone. When she gets to your chest, She lifts her head to look you in the eyes before leaning down again to take one of your nipples into her mouth, sucking on it. She presses a finger to your hole as she pulls away from your chest.

“Can I touch you while I suck on these gorgeous tits?” she asks, smile splitting into a grin as she lowers her head back down.

✩♬ ₊˚.✂️⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Grayson

She likes to watch them bounce as you ride her strap.

“Yeah, just like that”, she grunts as you bounce on the toy. She calls it training. She knows it's not right to engage with a subordinate in this way, but when you make such a pretty picture to look at, who is she to deny herself? She's not making eye contact with you though, focused on your chest in her face. When you slow down a little, thighs burning with the ache of riding, she brings a hand up to harshly slap them. “Why are you slowing down? I'm not finished with your training,” she says, hands gripping your hips to assist you in gaining back your pace. “If you keep up just like that, I'll give you a reward.”

✩♬ ₊˚.✂️⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Mel Medarda

Mel asks you to model topless for her so she can paint you. You have to get her back on course multiple times because she keeps getting distracted by your tits.

“I thought you were a woman of composure”, you tease as she gets caught staring again. She rolls her eyes in response.

“I've been finished for five minutes; I just wanted extra time to stare at them,” Mel says matter of factly. You get up from where you've been posing, engulfing her in a back hug as you examine her artwork. It's impressive. She paints you in such a sensual light. Your hands drop from her hips to her thighs. “While I was painting your chest, I was thinking about having them as my next canvas.”

“Yeah? If you show me how much you like them, I'll think about it,” you say as she turns in your arms, ready to walk you over to her bed and worship your chest with her mouth.

✩♬ ₊˚.✂️⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Sevika

Sevika likes to feel them rub against yours as she fucks you nice and deep. She thrusts her hips, grinding her cock inside you. You'd been begging for her to get the strap and fuck you, and now that she's inside, you're a drooling mess. She's completely covering you, pressing her muscular body on top of yours. The way your sensitive nipples rub against her chest as she rocks against you makes her eyes roll to the back of her head. Skin-on-skin contact is Sevika's weakness.

Sevika has a very short list of things that get her going, and your tits are top of that list.

✩♬ ₊˚.✂️⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Vi

After a rough fight, Vi will find an empty room, back you up against the wall and let out all her pent-up energy on your tits. She loves to leave marks, decorating your chest with hickies and bite marks. She's enthusiastic, letting her actions tell you how she feels. She's desperate with how her tongue drags along your skin, and her teeth sink in. Her mouth is too occupied to speak, but you can hear the curses she grits out between biting and sucking on your precious skin. She's also a proud woman, and knowing you have her marks on you fuels her to do more. Your boobs are the perfect destresser for her.

“Fuck, look at you”, she growls, admiring her dirty work. “Always so fucking pretty.”

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Thank you so much for requesting, I'm so abnormal about the arcane ladies, I need to write more for them. I hope you enjoyed!!

[kamaluhkhan]

WE DESERVE A SOFT EPILOGUE, MY LOVE.

pairing: vi x firelight!reader word count: 2k summary: after years of thinking her dead, ekko brings vi to the firelight base. you don't really know how to react when the girl you grew up loving is now a woman you know nothing about and still, somehow, feel everything for. warnings: arcane level angst + lesbian yearning. reader is referred to with she/her pronouns. reader has tattoos and a star-shaped birthmark behind her ear (y'all know vi loves a nickname and i thought 'stargirl' was v cute so i had to make it work). fic gets slightly suggestive at the end ;) author's note: happy act iii release day!!! i wrote this instead of working on my thesis oops. in my defense, vi has sparked something in me that i simply cannot ignore. i'm also working on a werewolf! pitfighter!vi x vampire slayer!reader fic (set in the same universe, just with a slight twist) sooo that might be done before part 2 of this fic (which is where the smut happens hehe). anyways, thank you for reading!

inspired by that quote: "i think we deserve a soft epilogue, my love. we are good people and we've suffered enough" by nikka ursula

even after all these years, vi is still the first one to notice you. 

her eyes widen as she hesitates to pull away from ekko, but you clear your throat to catch both of their attentions.

“i thought we were gonna question her together.”

ekko wipes a stray tear from his cheek and stands up a little straighter. 

“you were taking too long,” he shrugs. “don’t worry — she’s clean.”

you trust ekko’s judgement, but you still can’t reckon with the fact that vi is alive. you’d splashed cold water on your face just before to make sure you weren’t dreaming. 

“i don’t know.” you walk closer until you’re standing arms length from vi. “the vi i knew wouldn’t be caught dead with a topsider, let alone an enforcer.” 

you examine her carefully, and you imagine she’s doing the same to you. vi looks more grown up — stronger and sharper. you’d spent so much time in limbo, not knowing if she were alive or dead. you aren’t sure how to react when the girl you grew up loving is now a woman you know nothing about and still, somehow, feel everything for. 

“i guess the shoddy undercut is a pretty clear give away,” you deadpan.

vi quirks an eyebrow at you. “shoddy, huh? you know, your tattoos look like they were drawn by blindfolded children.”

she smiles, all bright and toothy. the scar on her upper lip stretches, achingly familiar, and you decide there’s nothing you want to do more than to bring her into your arms, to bring her closer, so you do. 

her hair tickles your cheek as you whisper:

“i did those tattoos myself.”

vi chuckles, and you feel it vibrate across her body to yours.

“i know. they’re beautiful.” her index finger traces the star-shaped birthmark behind your ear; you shiver. “i was just messing with you, stargirl.”

vi was the only one who ever called you that, said you made her life brighter or some other sweet nothing that would effortlessly fall from her mouth.

gods, she was the first one who even noticed that birthmark on your skin. 

“i was messing with you, too. the hair — you look hot.”

you feel her heart beating faster against your chest as she smiles into your shoulder.

she’s here.

she’s not some ghost from your past.

she’s really here. 

you’re so overwhelmed by how solid she is against you that you start to pull away, but vi catches your hand before you can fully untangle yourself from her. 

“that’s all i get?” she wonders, licking her lips.

you’re tempted, very tempted, to give her more. maybe you would have, until ekko clears his throat behind you.

“should i….give y’all a moment?” ekko asks. “i’ll go get the piltie.”

you then remember who vi came here with; she might not be working for silco, but you stand by your suspicions at her bringing a topsider to the lanes. 

you slip your hand from hers. you roll your shoulders back as if that would really shake away the hold she’s always had on you.

time has passed. things have changed. neither of you are kids anymore, and you don't have the luxury of indulging in a frivolous crush.

“it's fine, e. let’s show them around.”

“still a night owl, i see.”

vi finds you perched on one of the trees highest branches, surrounded by firelights as you sketch something. you close your sketchbook instantly and place it on the other side of you when vi sits down.

“thought you’d be in bed with that enforcer of yours.” 

“her name’s caitlyn.”

“caitlyn,” you scoff, shaking your head. 

the bitterness you try to hide is all too transparent to vi, who has to bite back a laugh at your pettiness. 

“you say her name like you’re gonna hex her. never pegged you as a jealous ex.”

“technically, we never broke up,” you point out. 

a firelight lands on your hand, and you let it crawl up the lines etched on your skin. 

“if that’s the case, i owe you an apology for cheating on you when i was in prison.”

you frown, but say nothing, your eyes following that same firelight as it illuminates your tattoos. 

“don’t worry, i’m kidding!” vi pauses. “mostly.”

the firelight flies away, and you huff out an annoyed breath. 

“whatever. i don’t care who you’ve fucked, or who you’re fucking. and, you don’t owe me anything. it’s not like we’re anything to each other, anymore.”

vi sucks in a sharp breath — she wouldn’t have expected such harsh words from you.

“is that why you can’t even look at me?” she finally asks.

you’d been strictly business since you first reunited hours ago. you expertly distanced yourself from vi all throughout the tour of the firelights’ base, and throughout dinner, too. 

where’s the girl she’d spend hours goofing around with, who always had a witty response to her sarcastic remarks, who smiled at her in such a way that made her chest glow? where’s the girl who brightened vi’s life when it seemed like the darkness would never leave?

“i don’t know,” you admit. “part of me still can’t believe you’re alive. i know that i should be happy that you are, but i keep thinking about everything i could have done to protect you, and powder —”

“hey. it’s my job to worry about everyone, remember?”

“you weren’t here.”

“i am now.”

she gently moves your chin so that you face her, so that you can see that she’s not going anywhere, at least for tonight. 

which is probably more time than either of you thought you’d ever have together again.

vi notices how your eyes flick down to her lips and back up, and she feels something spark in her chest. but then, you shake your head as though trying to wake up from a dream and turn away once more. 

“that enforcer of yours —”

“she’s not my —”

“whoever she is, she talked about how we all need to heal. i just keep thinking about what you’ve been through, what we’ve all been through…. how it never really stops. healing would be nice, but it’s hard when you have to keep fighting every day. you remember what ekko said, about why we chose this place?” 

of course, she remembers. 

“that if even a seed can survive down here, maybe we could, too.”

 “we. who’s ‘we,’ vi?” you laugh, but there’s no joy behind it. “we’ve gotten used to surviving without each other. maybe it was meant to be that way.”

“that’s not fair.” 

“a lot of things aren’t fair.” you gesture around at the base. “this — this community — took blood, sweat, and tears to build and i just know how easy it would be for someone to destroy it all. which is why we fight, obviously, to protect all this and each other, but i’m scared that we can only do so for so long before we burn out.”

you press your knees to your chest and curl into yourself. vi notices then — the slump of your shoulders, the shadows beneath your eyes, and just how deeply exhausted you must feel, down to your bones. 

you let out a shuddery breath. “is it even all worth it?”

vi swallows the tears building in her throat. you had always been the hopeful one, and it makes vi’s chest ache to think about what you must have endured to lose the brightness that had been woven into your being. 

that's part of what got her through these past few years, and there's no way she's going to let it fade.

“i....i think so,” vi starts, trying to find it within her to be inspirational. “maybe it'll make a difference in the long run, even if we don’t see that now. maybe someone, someday in the future, will be able to not just survive, but live in a better world.”

you raise an eyebrow at her, and vi swears there's a slight smile on your face.

"what?" she asks, her cheeks heating up.

"i'm just...surprised. how is it possible that prison made you less cynical?”

there's a glimmer to your eyes that wasn't there before, something playful, and vi decides to lean into it.

"oh, it wasn't prison," vi says, nudging her shoulder against hers. "see, i ran into this pretty girl from my past and she's this totally badass freedom fighter now, so i think there's some hope in the world."

you snort. "good to know you're still an unbearable flirt."

"i thought you loved that about me."

you laugh, a sparkling sound that vi wishes she could carry with her wherever she goes. it’s contagious, too, and vi finds herself giggling along with you. when it dies down, you rest your head on her shoulder, something you did even back when you were only friends.

“i missed you,” she admits. 

“yeah?” your voice is softer than a whisper. 

you lift your head and vi cradles your face in her hands.

vi nods. “so fucking much, and i want to prove it. if you’ll let me. please.”

“vi,” you exhale. she’s so close now that she can feel you breathing against her lips. “i can’t. you’re with that enforcer.”

“we’re not together,” vi assures, bumping her nose against yours. 

she leans in ever so closely to kiss you, but you move away. 

“you’re still with her, though, and you’re leaving in the morning,” you continue. “things are already so….complicated. i just don’t think we should start something we won’t be able to finish.”

with nothing more to say, you gather your sketchbook and pencils. vi’s sure that you’re not going to bed, just off to nestle into another hiding spot for the night, away from her.

maybe you’re still putting up a cold front, protecting yourself because that’s how you've been surviving in this world where the risk of losing everything lingers, and only gets heavier as you grow older.

but, gods, vi really has missed you, the you she remembers so vividly, the you that shone through just moments ago. she knows that glowing heart of yours is hardened by layers of ice, and she’s determined to make them all melt away.

so, vi gets up, heart beating in her throat, and calls after you:

“haven’t we already?” 

you stop in your tracks. you slowly turn around to back at her.

a moment passes, maybe more. the two of you suspended in time. your eyes are telling her a million different things – you’re confused, you’re scared, you’re tempted, you’re tired – and all vi can do is unsuccessfully blink back more tears because it’s true, how your story together never got the happy ending you deserved. 

“please, y/n. if this is our second chance, even just for a night —”

she’s cut off by you crashing your lips against hers.

the two of you were young, really, just girls when you first kissed. it was awkward and messy and though it ignited something in the pit of vi’s stomach, it was nothing compared to this.

she lets you guide her as you please, lets you press your warm body against hers against the trunk of the tree. she lets your lips mold into hers until her lungs are burning. 

your chest is heaving as you pull away slightly; vi bites back a whine, feeling empty. but air isn’t what she needs, she’s sure of it. what she really needs is more of you.

you study her like a work of art, like you're committing her to memory in case she slips away. your thumb wipes away a fallen tear, across the tattoo on her cheek. 

fuck, no one's held vi this tenderly since, well, you.

“you’re so beautiful.”

vi blushes, becoming increasingly flustered. she'd wanted to make this about you, take care of you in all the ways she'd imagined, but the way you're looking at her, touching her....she's not a religious person, but vi thinks she might have stumbled into her own, personal heaven, with you having some divine hold on her, soft and bright and passionate.

you're kissing down her neck, nipping at her collarbone when you repeat: "you're so fucking beautiful."

“yeah, i know. they should build statues of me,” she breathes, closing her eyes and trying to keep upright on weak knees. she squeezes your hips in an attempt to keep herself steady.

you’re the only person vi can recall calling her beautiful. 

sexy? oh, yeah. charming? definitely. hot? often. 

no one else calls her beautiful, though, let alone makes her feel like it the way you do.

“bad at flirting and full of yourself," you tease. "some things really don't change."

by now your lips are travelling lower, and vi doesn't want to miss a second watching you have your way with her. when her eyes flutter open, vi gets a glimpse of something over your shoulder.

“hm, i guess drawings are a good place to start.” 

she gestures with her chin, which she instantly regrets as you pull away to follow her gaze, eyes landing on the sketches of her from your fallen sketchbook.

“you weren’t supposed to see those,” you groan. "they're personal...."

it's cute, how flustered you get after making vi all hot and bothered.

vi smirks. "personal, huh? had some fun picturing me when i was gone? missed me so much you had to draw me back to life?"

"well, no - wait, yes, obviously, i missed you, but --"

vi cuts you off with a searing kiss.

she tugs on one of your belt loops to bring you closer to her. vi presses her thigh between your legs, relishing in how your mouth opens in a perfect gasp. vi takes the opportunity to bite your bottom lip and you whimper.

“don't be embarrassed, baby," vi mumbles against your mouth, thumb rubbing soothing circles into your hips. "you know i missed you, too. 'cept i'm not talented like you, so my creative imagination had to carry me through some long nights."

“is that so….” your hand slips underneath her tank top, and you manage to pull a groan from vi by scratching your nails against her stomach. “maybe you can clue me in to what, exactly, you’ve imagined.”

vi grins triumphantly. she places a kiss on your birthmark before whispering in your ear:

“sure thing, stargirl.”

[wttcsms]

sorry but im just thinking about best friend's older brother!character and you. you and your bestie got totally screwed over by your college apartments bc they found black mold in the complex & it's basically uninhabitable. however, this is the second week of the semester + every other viable housing option is taken. luckily enough, her older brother is successful and rich — his luxury apartment is way too big for just himself. he has spare rooms. so now you're living with your best friend's older brother, and you always knew he was cute growing up, but he's older than the two of you; you knew your crush on him was unrealistic. it's like crushing on a celebrity, really. except... people don't normally end up sleeping in the room down the hall from their celeb crush, do they?

he's fun to be around, but when your best friend is gone for periods of time (she'd rather spend her nights at her boyfriend's place), and it's just the two of you alone... things feel tense. like every otherwise innocent action is suddenly charged with some weird electricity. you're messing with the coffee maker and he comes up behind you to open up the cabinet overhead, effectively sandwiching you between the hard counter top and his muscular build (since when did he have the time to get so jacked?) he sleeps shirtless, and when it's nighttime, he'll walk around in just his gray sweats or plaid pj pants, abs on full display, making casual conversation with you like he doesn't look like a greek god coming down to earth. but as much as he's unknowingly taunting you, you're unknowingly taunting him.

since when did his little sister's best friend grow up? why are you walking around in cropped cami tops that are thin enough to wear he can see the buds of your nipples poking through the fabric? why does the scent of your body lotion drive him insane? why does the fact that you're facetiming his sister and interrupting her alone time w her boyfriend just so you can ask for advice on what to wear to a date bother him so much? when you hang up, he conveniently passes by your bedroom door to see what's going on.

you're wearing a tight, black mini dress and you're spraying on perfume — the perfume he gifted you a few chrismas'es ago. he thinks it's cute that you still use it; he finds it less cute when he realizes you'll waste the sweet scent on someone who isn't him.

"you could've asked me for help on deciding what to wear. my sister acts like she knows it all, but she doesn't know how men think."

you're caught off guard, embarrassed that he overheard your conversation. "i- i wouldn't bother you with something stupid like this. i asked her because i don't have any guy friends and-"

he's fully in your room now, a look on his face you've only ever seen in your wet dreams. "i'm a man. do you really not see me that way?"

right now, he's all you can see.

[hyliagirl42]

Not to get all preachy here but i think this could stem from the really harmful media analysis we're taught in school, which often has us answer questions like "if you were the protagonist in this situation, what would you do?"

And something i read in a post elsewhere really stood out to me, in response to that question - what does it matter what *I* would do? And what I would do is entirely dependent on whether I only have the lived experiences and memories of the protagonist, or if I only havr my own, as the reader.

Because if i only had the protagonist's experiences and memories, I wouldn't know I'm a character in a book (or horror movie). I wouldn't know what genre I'm in. I wouldn't know that this camping trip in the woods with my friends is going to end with all of us dying. It's just a camping trip. And we're teenagers having fun, being silly, and how were we supposed to know the evil tome had a real genuine curse on it? If this is the case, asking what I would do doesnt matter, because my lived experiences speak to what choices I'm going to make, and as such none of the choices I make will be different.

But if I have only my own memories as the reader to make my decision with, that's also a useless question to ask. I know things as the reader that the character never could. Like I mentioned before, I know that this is the horror genre and people are going to die. So obviously I can sit back and think of all the perfect ways to win, the perfect flawless ways of surviving. But that wouldn't be very satisfying, narratively, would it? There's no plot without struggle and hardship. There's nothing satisfying about winning too easily. That's not the story the author wants to tell, especially in horror stories.

But all we're ever taught in school is "what did the character do wrong? How would you do it better?" Instead of the actually meaningful questions such as "what message was the author trying to convey? How can this message apply to your life? Is this message even aimed at you in the first place, or is it aimed at someone else? Did the author successfully convey their intended message?" Questions like that.

And that's doing us a disservice in all media, all across the board. For example, if a character does something you would never do, because it's a Bad Thing To Do, the character is problematic! Because I, an upstanding citizen, would never do that! Forget the fact that the character is still going through character development at this point. Forget that the character's background led them to make this decision, and they thought it was the right one at the time, when it wasn't. Forget that the author may be setting up events in the future or trying to teach a lesson or trying to show that someone who does such things is still a human being and can still be a sympathetic character even if they mess up...

Anyway, I'll get off my soap box now, this is just what this post made me think of. To go back to the original post, if you dont want to see a story about horror protagonists falling victim to circumstances out of their control, and would rather see a cute romance, go find yourself a cute romance to read instead. If you want to see protagonists making all the right decisions and overcoming all odds, go find a story about that instead. This is a horror movie. And in horror movies, people make stupid mistakes, because they don't know theyre in a horror movie. Go find something else to watch or read

people are so mean about horror movie victims like. sorry but if i had gone to a cabin in the woods with my friends as a teenager you couldn't have stopped us from reading aloud from the evil tome. how were they supposed to know the ancient curse was real they're like 17

[loulovingho]

tags: violence (gay bashing), homophobic slurs, blood, hurt/comfort, angst, healing, heading toward getting back together, happy-enough ending

(ao3 link or read below)

Like Fine China

“Hey, I need you to keep your eyes open for me, okay? You hear me? Try to keep your eyes open.”

He recognized that voice. The last time he'd heard it was just a few weeks ago, at the hospital. Who was it for though? Why was he at the hospital that time?

His brain felt like a jumbled mess. His body felt even worse.

He just wanted to sleep.

“Tommy! Tommy, can you hear me?”

Athena! That's who was speaking to him.

He opened his mouth, cracked one eye open. God, it hurt!

“I- I'm,” the words felt foreign as they escaped him. His voice didn't sound like his own. His mouth was dry, and held a bad taste.

Whiskey and... and metal.

Blood.

“Tommy, paramedics are on their way, okay? I just need you to stay with me until they get here.”

It was dark, but something was shining bright in his face.

“Flash... Flashlight,” he managed to get out, squeezing his eye back shut.

“Eyes- Eye open, Tommy. I'll get the flashlight out of your face, but I need to know you're with me.”

Wait. Had she said paramedics? They couldn't. He couldn't let them- let him see.

“No, no, no,” he mumbled out, shaking his head a couple times until a sharp pain shot through it. “No, h- he can't. I don't-”

“They're not on shift, Tommy.”

He tried to push himself up, away from where she hovered over him. He didn't manage to get very far before she placed a hand on his chest.

“Tommy, you cannot get up. I need you to stay still, and stay conscious. Those two things are your only jobs. You hear me?”

“I can't,” his words were so garbled. He coughed up the blood that'd been dripping down his throat.

I can't let him see.”

“Listen to me, Tommy!” Athena exclaimed, getting right in Tommy's face. He could barely see her, but he could feel her breath on his face. “They're not coming. Buck isn't coming; it'll be someone else.”

In the distance, he heard the sound of sirens. He didn't feel relief. Didn't feel much of anything at all. He was fading, fast. It took all his energy to force out one last sentence before he lost consciousness. “Don't... Don't tell him.”

*****

He just wanted to go out for a drink. Something a little stronger than craft beer.

It'd been two weeks since he broke up with Evan- no, Buck. He was Buck now.

It'd been two weeks since he broke up with Buck and the ache in his chest felt the same way it did the second he walked out of the loft.

He'd thought he was saving himself from future heartbreak, and maybe he was, but it didn't quite make it hurt any less.

Georgie's wasn't exactly a gay bar, but Georgie was gay and the bar itself became a sort of unofficial hang out for older people in the lgbtq+ community. No loud music and everyone left each other alone. A perfect place to decompress while still allowing yourself to be free.

After a couple of whiskey sours, and yeah, a pitcher of craft beer, Tommy was ready to go.

He waited outside, near the alleyway, for his Uber. He found himself going to his messages, hovering over Evan's name. He hadn't had the heart to change it to Buck yet.

He'd been wanting to text him since the breakup. Talk about it some more. Actually give a reason for why it- why he- fell apart so fast. How Buck's words triggered some terrible memories for him. How he suddenly realized there was no way he could be everything he thought Buck needed. Everything Buck deserved. Not to mention they hadn't even exchanged I love you's. And it was insane to think all of Tommy's things could fit in Buck's loft. Buck's things could fit in his house so much easier!

He clicked on Evan's name, started to type something out, erased it, started again, erased it again.

He was usually so aware of his surroundings. His time in the military did that to him. It did a lot of things to him actually, many of which he wasn't very thankful for. However, he prided himself on not being oblivious.

Tonight he was oblivious.

He didn't expect five men to jump him at once. He was a strong guy. Had taken on three men about fifteen years earlier. Did it with ease too.

But not five men. Not when one had a bat, and one had brass knuckles, and one was at least 6'5 and three hundred pounds. Not when they dragged him to the ground and into the alley before he had a chance to react. Screaming slurs at him as they took turns using his body as a punching bag.

He tried to fight. At one point, he was sure he kicked one of the guy's in the face. Heard him yell something like, “The fag broke my tooth!”

It only made things worse.

He wasn't sure when he first lost consciousness, but he knew they were still on top of him. Still laughing as they hit and kicked. He heard the sounds of someone spitting at some point. Felt wet on his face.

Then there was nothing.

Until someone stepped out from somewhere, and maybe they heard him groan? Maybe it was his Uber driver wondering where he was? Maybe it was an employee taking out the trash? He wasn't sure. He could barely hear someone telling him they were calling the police. There was a ringing in his ears, and his lungs felt like they were on fire. Someone said something about wheezing, barely breathing. He wondered what that was about.

Then there was Athena. Then nothing again.

*****

The next time Tommy opened his eyes, he was in a dimly lit hospital room. He was confused. Could barely see out of one eye and everything was blurry out of the other.

His head felt like it was stuffed with cotton, and maybe some tiny humans hitting his brain with hammers.

“Are you... awake awake or not really awake?”

The sound of a man's voice startled him. He couldn't hardly move, but he was able to focus his eyes across the room at the figure in the corner.

“Ed- Eddie?”

God, his voice sounded weird. Why did it sound like that? Like he'd spent the last 30 years smoking a pack a day.

“Yeah, I'm here.”

He sounded hesitant. Maybe they'd had this conversation before? If they had, Tommy certainly didn't remember it.

“Wha- Why?”

Eddie stepped closer. “You're in the hospital, Man.”

Tommy wanted to roll his eyes. No duh.

He settled for clearing his throat, which turned into a burning sensation running down his chest. “Why're you... here?” he tried. Hoped Eddie understood that much.

“Tommy-”

“I t- told Athena-” he had to pause to take a breath. “Told her not to tell.”

“Actually, you told Athena not to tell him. And she assumed, correctly, I'm sure, that him was Buck. So she called me instead.”

Tommy closed his eyes. “Why?”

“Why'd she call me? Oh, maybe because you don't have anyone listed as an emergency contact and you were nearly beat to death so she figured you might need someone to be here when you woke up.”

Tommy's jaw clenched at Eddie's harsh words.

Nearly beat to death.

He was nearly beat to death.

Eddie either noticed Tommy's heart rate going up on the monitor, or his eyes filling with tears, because he was right beside his bed in two strides. “Sorry,” he said. “Sorry, I- I'm kinda pissed, Man.”

“S'okay,” Tommy replied, swallowing hard. “I deserve it.”

Eddie looked taken aback. “No, I'm not- Tommy, I'm not mad at you. I'm mad at this,” he said, gesturing over Tommy's body. “I've never seen...” Eddie's voice trailed off and, through Tommy's own blurry vision, he could see that Eddie was close to crying.

“What'd they do to me?” Tommy asked, barely able to take in all his injuries. His entire body hurt, no part any worse or less than the other. He could feel something on every limb, but he couldn't quite move his head around enough to see what it was.

Eddie took a deep breath. He wiped at his eyes with his fingers, sniffling before getting started. “You've got bruising on about seventy-five percent of your body. You had surgery for a busted kneecap on your right knee. Your left arm has a fracture, and your right one has thirty stitches, I think. They broke a few ribs, so it's gonna hurt like hell when you take a deep breath or cough. Um, you had some internal bleeding, but they got that under control pretty fast. You've got a fracture in your cheek, which may cause some extra pain when you talk. You've got a few broken fingers too, and lost a couple fingernails during your- when you were defending yourself.”

“Hm,” Tommy hummed once Eddie was done. “S'that all?”

Eddie shook his head, rolling his eyes. “I'm sure I missed a couple things, actually, jackass.”

Tommy let out a laugh, which quickly turned into a groan. “Thanks for coming, Eddie,” he said, trying and failing at moving himself into a slightly more comfortable position. “You don't have to stay though. I'll be fine.”

Eddie stared at him incredulously. “You're kidding me.”

Tommy shifted his eyes back in Eddie's direction. “No, I- I'll be okay. I've got it. Just,” he paused to take a breath, “don't let Buck know, please.”

Eddie raised a finger toward Tommy. “Well, see, about that. You only told Athena not to tell him before, and-”

“You didn't.”

“-and see he was already at my place when I got the call, so-”

“Please tell me you didn't.”

“I have one with cream and one with sugar and- Oh my God, you're awake!” The sound of Buck's voice had Tommy's head twisting toward the door so quickly that a pain shot from the bottom of his back all the way to the top of his head. “Ow!” he yelped, clenching his teeth and tossing his head against the pillow, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Oh my God. Has the nurse come in yet? Have they checked his vitals? Eddie, you said he'd be out for a while! Tommy, do you feel any nausea? Do you remember who we are? The nurses said you might have-”

“Buck!” Eddie exclaimed. “Stop. He's okay.” He glanced over at Tommy, “I did forget to mention the head trauma.”

Tommy groaned, giving him a glare.

Eddie walked over to Buck and took the drink carrier from his hands. “I'll go find a nurse, you stay with him.”

Tommy wanted to yell out to Eddie to please not go, and also screw you, and maybe throw a couple hand gestures in there too. He stayed silent instead.

Buck looked Tommy up and down, hesitating slightly before walking up to the side of the bed. “So, you're-”

“I want to see myself,” Tommy blurted.

“Oh, um, I... Tommy, I don't. It might be better to wait.”

Tommy managed to move his head enough to look up at Buck. He could see the fear- no, the panic- in Buck's eyes.

“I wanna see," he repeated.

“Tommy-”

“Buck!” It took a lot of strength to get his name out so forcefully, and he didn't quite mean it to sound as angry as it did, but this wasn't Buck's decision. It was his. And he wanted to see what he looked like.

Buck pulled his phone from his back pocket, his hands shaking slightly as he pulled up the camera.

Slowly, he lifted the phone up to Tommy's face.

The second it registered that he was looking at himself, Tommy sucked in a breath. He grimaced as pain radiated through his chest but, when Buck went to move the camera away he stopped him. “No,” he said. “Just. Just wait.”

He knew his eyes were swollen by how out of focus his vision was, but he had no idea just how bad they looked. The right was worse than the left, but both were an angry mixture of black, purple, and green. The bruise on the left side of his face ran down his cheek to his jaw, circling underneath his chin like a half moon and fading into his facial hair. There were marks on his neck. Looked like someone's hand. He could understand Eddie's hesitancy on mentioning that. He didn't remember anyone gripping him there, which was probably for the best.

His forehead had more bruises, and cuts too. There was dried blood at his hairline, some stitched up cuts. His curly hair was nearly matted to his head, his scalp a brutal crimson.

“I tried to wash the blood out of your hair with a washcloth,” Buck explained anxiously, “but you have some lacerations on your scalp and I didn't want to bother them until they healed a little more.”

It was all so overwhelming. There was a whirring sound in his ears that made him feel dizzy. His eyes burned as they filled with tears that he didn't have the strength to wipe away.

“Okay,” he said, his voice uneven. He cleared his throat. “Can you- You can go, please. I don't... You can go.”

“Tommy-”

“Ev- Buck, I'm awake, I'm fine, I don't need anyone here.” He stared straight ahead, unable to look Buck in the eyes. “Please.”

“No.”

Tommy really didn't feel like dealing with stubborn Evan right now. “I don't-”

“I don't really care, Tommy. I'm not leaving you here. I've been at this damn hospital for three days now and I'm staying until you go home. I don't care what-”

He was cut off by the sound of footsteps behind him.

“Got the nurse,” Eddie said, an awkward smile on his face. The nurse, to her credit, ignored all the tension in the room.

“Let me get some hand sanitizer and gloves and I'll be right with you, Mr. Kinard.”

Buck sighed. He stepped even closer to Tommy. “I'm gonna go into the hall long enough for the nurse to check you out,” he said, maneuvering himself until he was halfway leaning over the bed, his arm on the other side of Tommy to prop himself up as he forced him to make eye contact. “I will be back in a few minutes. You have people who care about you, Tommy, whether you like it or not.”

With that said, Buck stood back up and left the room.

*****

Tommy spent a few more days in the hospital before he was released. There were only two times that Buck left long enough to get a shower and get a little rest in a real bed. Both of those times, he made sure Eddie was there the entire time.

Athena had come in to get his statement. Asked him all sorts of questions, most of which Tommy couldn't answer. He hadn't really gotten a good look at them. Only had very basic descriptions. He remembered the slurs they had hurled at him, knew they attacked because he was gay. He couldn't really figure out how they knew though. Besides being outside of that bar, it wasn't like Tommy ever did anything that screamed gay. Not that it mattered.

She'd been honest with him. There were no cameras at that part of the street, or in the alleyway. No one got a good description of the attackers, and the person who called the police only saw their shadows as they disappeared into the night. She'd do everything she could, but it wasn't likely they'd find these men. At least, not until they did this again.

Bobby stopped by once with some homemade chicken noodle soup. Buck had to feed him every bite, which made Tommy feel like he was about to cry the entire time, but he managed half a bowl before he had to stop. It was a million times better than anything the hospital had been feeding him, and he was glad to know Bobby had put some in his freezer to give Tommy when he got home.

Chim and Maddie came one evening. He'd been asleep when they got there, woke up some time during their visit, but he kept his eyes shut until they left.

Honestly, every time someone walked through the doors he felt more and more like running out of the hospital and finding a hole to fall into. Then, if he were lucky, someone would just shovel some dirt over him and let him rest.

These weren't his people. They were Buck's people. They didn't need to be there for him. They needed to hate him. They needed to laugh at his bruises and tell him he deserved every last one. They needed to yell at him for breaking Buck's heart to try and save his own.

That'd be a lot easier than this.

Thankfully, Hen and Karen didn't come by. They did send flowers though, and a card that explained both kids had strep throat and they didn't want to risk bringing that to the hospital. They'd come by Tommy's place once he was home.

He and Buck didn't talk about anything that needed to be talked about. All the unsent messages that had swirled through Tommy's mind didn't matter right now. It was like an unspoken rule between the two of them. Right now was not the time to try and fix whatever happened between them. Right now was about Tommy healing.

*****

As soon as they got Tommy home, Buck left Eddie with him so he could go to the pharmacy and pick up his medications. When he got back, Eddie headed out to go home and rest, promising to come back later with a variety of foods that would be easy on Tommy to eat.

The silence felt more... silent at Tommy's house. It was different now that they were at home instead of a hospital with people coming in and out at all times.

Tommy needed to do something, say something, to break the silence.

“I wasn't on a date,” he muttered out as Buck organized his pain meds on his nightstand.

Buck paused briefly before getting right back to it. “Didn't think you were.”

Tommy nodded. “Okay. I just, I don't know, didn't want you to think that.”

“You go to Georgie's when your brain is working overtime and you need it to quiet down.”

Tommy's eyebrows furrowed. “I didn't know I ever told you that.”

“You didn't,” Buck replied, handing Tommy his pills and a glass of water. “I just know you.”

Tommy swallowed the pills, wincing slightly. His throat still felt scratchy even a week later. “I don't know how they knew,” he said as Buck took the water from him and set it on his nightstand.

“Who knew what?”

“Those guys that-” he stopped. “I don't know how they knew I was gay.”

“A lot of queer people hang out at Georgie's,” Buck answered. “They probably took a guess.”

The thought of it made Tommy's stomach lurch. “I've spent most of my life trying to make sure people couldn't guess.”

Buck watched him for a moment quizzically. “Tommy, you're not... You don't blame yourself for this, do you? You know this wasn't your fault, right?”

Tommy avoided eye contact with Buck. He felt so small right now. “I know I didn't do anything to provoke them.”

“That doesn't really answer my question.”

“I just... I don't know what I could have done differently. I know I wasn't paying attention to my surroundings. I... I should probably go to a different bar, maybe. I don't know.”

“You can't be serious right now.”

“This is everything I feared my entire life, Buck,” Tommy admitted and, God, he wished he could shut up right now. The pain pills were starting to make him a little loose lipped, mixed with him truly being alone with Buck for the first time since they broke up, mixed with an undeniable fear every time he thought about that night, seemed to make it impossible to close his mouth. “I did everything to make sure nothing like this would ever happen to me and it still did. I keep thinking about it and wondering how it could have been different. How I could have been different.”

“Tommy, can you look at me?”

Slowly, Tommy looked up at Buck, his eyes shining with tears.

“This was not your fault. There's nothing you could or should have done differently. You cannot let those five men shove you back into a closet.”

“I-” Tommy cleared his throat. “They're not. It's just... a lot right now.”

“I get that, I- I do. You look tired. Why don't you rest for a bit, okay? I'll be here when you wake up.”

“Buck, you don't-”

“If you tell me I don't need to stay I will force feed you bone broth when you wake up.”

Tommy shivered. “Ugh! I hate bone broth.”

“I know you do.” Buck gently pulled a pillow out from under Tommy, allowing him to lie back easier. “Close your eyes, get some rest. I'm here when you need me.”

*****

They were bound to fight sometime. Tommy had honestly expected it to happen sooner. Buck had been staying with him for three weeks now, only gone when he was working a shift. Bobby had let him work part time for now, with Carla caring for him when Buck was gone.

They'd managed to get past the initial awkwardness. Buck rambled about any and every subject he could think of. They'd watch movies together on the couch, with Tommy falling asleep halfway through due to his pain meds.

Buck would get Tommy tucked in bed, then set himself up on Tommy's floor in case he was needed during the night. Tommy had tried to insist he use the spare room, but Buck wouldn't hear of it. He knew Tommy wouldn't call for him if he needed him through the night.

Then Tommy tried to suggest he sleep in the bed. But that was a no go because, “I kick, Tommy, you know this. Do you really want another knee surgery?”

They'd been focused on Tommy getting better. And they'd been ignoring the many, many elephants in the room.

So, a fight was expected.

What wasn't expected was for the fight to start because Tommy needed to pee.

Buck had seemed a bit more on edge today, but Tommy chalked that up to a shift that ran longer than expected.

Tommy had grabbed his crutches, which he'd just been able to start using to go short distances. He still didn't quite trust himself to use them at night, but he was working toward relying on them more and relying on people less.

When he stood, Buck immediately stood with him.

“I'm fine, Buck. I just need to go to the bathroom.”

“I'll help you there.”

“I'm really fine. I can get there by myself.”

Tommy was sure he had kept his tone neutral. He definitely didn't want an argument tonight. But, before he could even make it two steps, he heard Buck scoff. “Not surprised.”

And maybe it was the full bladder making him extra bitchy, but Tommy couldn't help turning around and asking, “What's that mean?”

Buck shrugged, crossing his arms over his chest. “Nothing.”

“Obviously it's not nothing. If it were nothing you wouldn't have said anything in the first place. What doesn't surprise you?”

“Just you, ya know, pushing people away. It's what you do.”

“Ha!” Tommy laughed out. “If I'm pushing people away then I really suck at it because you haven't left my house in three weeks. I just need to pee.”

“I'm not talking about right now. I'm talking about me telling you that I loved you and you breaking up with me.”

How in the hell did they end up here?

“You didn't tell me you loved me, Evan!” Tommy exclaimed, unbelievably confused. The sudden change in tone caused Buck to take a step back.

He was only thrown off for a second, quick with a retort. “Of course I did!”

“No, you absolutely did not! You asked me to move in with you, but you did not tell me you loved me.”

“Wait. You asked him to move in with you?” Eddie's voice had them glaring in his direction. Both had forgotten he was even there in the first place. He raised his hands. “Sorry.”

“Well, I- it was obviously implied,” Buck argued. “I wouldn't have asked you to move in if I didn't love you.”

“How the hell was I supposed to know that?! You were making it sound like I was some gay hero that sewed the first pride flag! I don't even go to pride events, Evan! All the colors are far too bright and the glitter never leaves you.”

“Glitter is really annoying,” Eddie agreed.

Tommy pointed a crutch at him. “Thank you.”

“I was not trying to make you out to be some gay hero, Tommy! I was telling you that I was comfortable with you. I was telling you I wanted to spend all my time with you. I wanted us to be together!”

“You didn't even think it through, Evan!” Tommy motioned around the room. “I own a home. It comes with two bedrooms that have doors, a garage, a back yard, and two and a half bathrooms. You asked me to move into your loft.”

Eddie shook his head. “Oh, Buck.”

Buck's eyes shot over to him. “You're still here why?”

Eddie stood from his spot on the couch, grabbing his coat. “Yeah, I'm going. Later.”

They both stayed silent until they heard the door open and close.

Buck opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again. “This is our first fight, isn't it?”

Tommy nodded. “It is.”

“Took us long enough.”

Tommy managed a small smile. “Probably should have fought you that night, honestly.”

“I think I would have felt better if you did.”

“Me too.” Tommy took a deep breath. “I actually really do have to pee,” he said, shifting from one crutch to the other. “Can we pause this until I'm done?”

Buck nodded. “I'll be here.”

They didn't actually fight anymore after that. It was time for Tommy to take his meds, which made him tired, and Buck was tired himself from his shift. Tommy laid in bed, Buck snoring on the floor beside him, thinking it all over. All the things he still felt like he needed to say. The unfinished business they had between them.

The fight wasn't much, but it was something.

It was enough.

For now.

*****

“Are you sure you're good on your own?” Buck asked as Tommy limped behind him toward the door.

“I'm sure. I can successfully do everything on my own now with minimal to no pain.”

Buck turned back to him quickly, eyes wide. “But there's still pain?”

Tommy smiled. “I'm fine, Evan.”

Buck didn't look so sure. “Okay, I... Okay.” Instinctively, he moved forward to wrap Tommy in a hug. He stopped himself before he got too close, but Tommy responded by opening his arms.

Buck's posture relaxed as he gently wrapped his arms around Tommy, careful not to squeeze too tightly. "I was so worried about you," he whispered in the space between them.

"I know."

“You'll call the number I gave you?” he asked.

“I already did yesterday,” Tommy admitted. “When you went out to pick up dinner. My first session is next Monday.”

“Good. That's... That's good.”

“Thank you, Evan. For everything you've done for me. You didn't have to do that.”

Reluctantly, Buck pulled himself away from Tommy.

“Did you realize you've been calling me Evan since our fight a couple weeks ago?” he asked, lips upturning into a smile.

“Oh, um,” Tommy shifted on his feet, taking the pressure off his bad knee. “Sorry. Habit.”

“Don't be sorry. I hate when you call me Buck.”

“You do?”

“Yeah. I'll always- I wanna be Evan, to you.”

Tommy nodded, staring into Evan's eyes. “Okay. That's. I'd like that too.”

Buck continued toward the door, stopping again as soon as his hand touched the handle. He looked back. “Hey, Tommy?”

“Yeah?”

“Next time you think about texting me... hit send, okay?”

Tommy had never mentioned that before. But he'd caught Buck's near-texts to him too, so it didn't quite catch him off guard. “I'm kinda a mess, Evan. I'm not as comfortable as you think I am. I'm not... I'm still figuring things out.”

“That's okay. I am too. Text me anyway.”

“Even if I'm asking you out for a coffee? So we can talk? Really talk?”

“Date and time, I'll be there.” Buck smiled softly at him as he opened the door to leave. “I'll get your order right this time.”

[akanemnon]

i am so sorry your audience seems to have such trouble grasping the concept of they/them pronouns

Unfortunately, that does not only go for my audience. A lot of the utdr fanbase has that issue (looking at reddit).

Most of my audience gets the pronouns right. There will always be some here and there that don't. Sometimes it's because of language barriers and other times it's because they don't know any better, or because they accidentally mess up. I like giving people the benefit of the doubt.

So far only twice have I had people complain to me directly about me correcting pronouns. One of them went to my ask box and proudly proclaimed that stories that gender the humans are more interesting than the ones who stick to the they/them pronouns... I love my they/them humans and I'm gonna keep them. You'll have to pry them from my cold dead hands.

[omkookie]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ Kitty! Kitty! =ᗢ= .𖥔 ݁ ˖

⌈ ⚠️ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ⌉ Smut, Femdom, pet play, pegging, cum eating, hair pulling, slapping, Satan is a good kitty for his mistress.

Fucking Satan with a strap-on while he’s wearing the cute paw socks you bought him. Literally gripping his hips to pull him back, thrusting into him hard enough to rock his body. Watching his toes curl, and the little paws on his feet move.

He looked so fucked out, his face flushed red with embarrassment and ecstasy. Biting his lips, his eyes rolled back with each thrust in him.

You pulled out enough- nearly slipping out, before slamming right back into him. “I…krr..Fuck—” He cursed, groaning at his own inability to form a coherent sentence. It was difficult to talk while you fucked him hard. He trembled, his thighs shaking as you tugged on his cute pinkish nipples.

“Who's my good kitty?” You asked him, slapping his pert chest. His pecs tightened at the impact, hardening, before softening again. Your hand left a small imprint behind, easily coloring his pale skin.

“M-me…” Satan huffs out, A strangled moan leaving his lips when you tug on his hair, pulling his head back.

“I'm a good kitty miss. I'm a good…cat” A small gasp leaves his lips, his breath hitching in his throat as he struggles to get the words out of his mouth.

His dick throbbed, the neglected tip pressing against his abdomen as you continued to plow him from behind.

“Crap…oh…oh shit” He mewls, a small pathetic moan getting past his lips. He didn't want to give you the satisfaction of having him wrapped around your finger this quick, but he wasn't capable of holding onto his sanity any longer.

If he had to be pathetic and beg you for his release this fast, then so be it.

“MC, I wanna cum- Please, please, please”

Satan pleads sweetly, his voice having a higher pitch to it. He needily rocked back into you, thrusting himself against your strap.

“MC~ Miss~” Moaning your name, he bit his lip again, bleary eyes barely focused on the plush bedding below him.

“What is it? My little kitty, I didn't hear you the first time.” You spoke, teasing him with your words. He feels your hand slide into his soft hair, slowly grilling his locks to pull them again.

Satan bristled like an angry cat, quickly losing his patience despite his attempts to remain calm and collected. “I wanna cum miss!” He repeats, letting out a breath he had been holding on to.

“Do you? Really kitty?”

You were taunting him on purpose.

“You're really going to make me say ‘it’’ he grumbles, grinding his teeth as he tries to steady himself on his shaky forearms.

“I told you, I won't let you cum unless you do it” You reminded him, stroking his pert chest again. He didn't have to look back at you to know you had a grin on your lips. He could feel your smug face staring at him despite having his back turned towards you.

“...”

Silence.

Satan doesn't say anything, prompting you to slow down your pace.

“Meow…” Finally, He meows.

“Meow…can I cum…now…please?” his eyes shut closed, the embarrassment etching himself onto his face as you reduced him to nothing but a mess.

The little paws on the bottom of his feet shook as you sped up your pace again. Fucking him hard, rough, and pulling on his hair just how he liked.

“Aww! You can cum, Kitty.” Your sweet lips finally allowed him to finish, giving him the approval he wanted which set his mind ablaze.

Finally! He was going to cum! You were allowing him.

“Oh. But not so fast.” You added quickly, letting go of his hair to reach for something behind you. Placing a small cat bowl in front of him, Satan nearly gawks at it, his eyes bulging out. “What's that for?” He asks, feeling astonished.

“You're gonna fill it up with your cum kitty! And don't waste a drop of it.”

His cheeks burned red at your answer, he no longer cared about how loud he was moaning as you fucked him. Everyone who walks by his room is allowed to know how good you were fucking him, and he would have no regrets later.

“Ohh- MC! MC! MC- Miss” He repeated your name, his hips jittering as you reached down to stroke his pitifully neglected cock. You held onto the base firmly, giving it a gentle squeeze which you knew he'd like.

Finally, you slowly lessened your grip on the base and started to stroke him fully.

“My sweet, sweet kitty” You praised him, getting his cock off as you continued to fuck his ass.

Satan saw white, his vision blanking completely as he got both penetrated and jerked off.

It threw him off of the edge, making his cock squirt more cum than he usually does, right into the little bowl you brought out.

His whole body shook as he threw his head back at your chest, whimpering sweetly. You had his cute ass stretched out perfectly around you. Your large purple cock molding his insides to fit you in.

“Such a good kitty! ” Stroking his back, you gave him a little praise. He nearly flops onto the bed below him, spent and tired as he pants.

“Look at how well I got to milk your cock! Such a big load” Holding up the little bowl, filled with his cum you commented on the amount that was gathered in it.

“Such a good, good, kitty.” You repeated, beginning to slowly pull out of him.

“Not so fast” Satan huffs, reaching back to hold onto your wrist and stop you. He gripped your wrist firmly to keep you in place, clearly not wanting to let you go.

“I want you…to stay in me for a bit more” He says, casting a glance back at you before letting your wrist go again. He flopped down onto the pillow, grumbling something under his breath.

“Okay… but since you did so much and you were so active, you have to drink your milk now!” You simply leaned on top of him, handing him the little cat bowl before wrapping your arms around his waist to hug him from behind.

Basking into your soft affection, He twists his head to kiss your cheek. His eyes then turn to the little bowl filled with his cum.

“You're a pervert” He huffs out, grinning as he kicks his feet.

Slowly, he brings the bowl to his lips, licking and slurping his own cum until the bowl is licked clean.

“Well that's not how I wanted you to eat it kitty” You sighed, seemingly feigning some disappointment that he didn't set the bowl on the floor and lick it out like a pet.

Rolling his eyes at you, Satan leans into your embrace.

“Paw socks… I didn't think making me meow and eat my own cum would get you this excited.” He chuckles, looking down at his feet to get a look at the little paws on them.

“How was the milk kitty?” You asked, Wrapping his hair around your finger and playing with it.

“Hmm…Delicious. Thank you”

“That’s good. Well, You looked absolutely adorable getting fucked stupid on my cock, Satan!”

“Cute? ‘Cute’ isn't how I would describe I look” he retorts, furrowing an eyebrow.

“You can't see how you look while I fuck you, so shush. You were absolutely adorable”

Ohh if only he could purr, despite his stubbornness he was completely putty in your hands all night. You had him wrapped around your finger, and he'd sure as hell let you fuck him like this again.

“I enjoyed that” Satan says bluntly, his smooth voice ringing throughout the room during the quiet aftermath.

“I'm happy you did…” kissing his shoulder, you tighten your arms around him to give him a small squeeze.

“We can do that again sometime, right?”

“Right. Let's do it again.”

Slutty list ᡣ𐭩

[sunnywalnut]

Also I'd like to add that quite literally the neurons in your brain require you to actually go through the process of learning something in order to maintain function. That's why so many people are told to do sudoku puzzles and other things when they get older to reduce the risk of Alzheimers and dementia.

If you have a question and you immediately get the answer, that might help in the immediate, but you're probably not going to remember that piece of information twenty minutes from now.

Like if I googled how many white rhinos exist in the whole world, just because I'm curious. That'd give me a number. But that wouldn't tell me the ways that conservationists are trying to ensure that this endangered species doesn't die off.

Same thing with math. If you don't attempt the problems, you're not going to know what's going wrong with your project. Whether that be working a trade, ordering stock, or even just putting up wallpaper.

It's one thing if I need a calculator to figure out how much fabric I need to make a stuffed animal that's slightly larger than the template I'm using. It's another if I can't figure out how much two yards is, when one is just $15.

That's the real life impact of "AI"

It's not helping us by using any real life data and adding it together(calculators) it's generating a bunch of mush that people are supposed to take as fact.

The reason people aren't shitting on calculators or microwaves is because they still give us the autonomy of messing up, while improving our lives at the same time.

If you insert a problem incorrectly on a calculator, it's going to give you an incorrect answer. Because the problem isn't with the product, it's with human mistakes.

If you overheat your food in the microwave and it turns it into a rubbery brick, you don't blame the microwave (unless it's old). You wonder if maybe you hit the wrong button.

You don't insist that the food is completely fine and edible even though it kind of feels like an eraser in your mouth. You try to figure out where you went wrong so the next time you try, your food will actually be good.

That's the difference.

I just started grad school this fall after a few years away from school and man I did not realize how dire the AI/LLM situation is in universities now. In the past few weeks:

I chatted with a classmate about how it was going to be a tight timeline on a project for a programming class. He responded "Yeah, at least if we run short on time, we can just ask chatGPT to finish it for us"

One of my professors pulled up chatGPT on the screen to show us how it can sometimes do our homework problems for us and showed how she thanks it after asking it questions "in case it takes over some day."

I asked one of my TAs in a math class to explain how a piece of code he had written worked in an assignment. He looked at it for about 15 seconds then went "I don't know, ask chatGPT"

A student in my math group insisted he was right on an answer to a problem. When I asked where he got that info, he sent me a screenshot of Google gemini giving just blatantly wrong info. He still insisted he was right when I pointed this out and refused to click into any of the actual web pages.

A different student in my math class told me he pays $20 per month for the "computational" version of chatGPT, which he uses for all of his classes and PhD research. The computational version is worth it, he says, because it is wrong "less often". He uses chatGPT for all his homework and can't figure out why he's struggling on exams.

There's a lot more, but it's really making me feel crazy. Even if it was right 100% of the time, why are you paying thousands of dollars to go to school and learn if you're just going to plug everything into a computer whenever you're asked to think??

[heartowan]

★ POST- PATROL : jason todd x reader!

( it's fluff! ♡) ─────────────── ★

You sighed once more as you stared up at the ceiling of the room, the warmth and coziness of the bedsheets and the small little fish lamp at the corner of the room not enough to get you back to sleep. You needed to pee, and you couldn't run from it anymore. Ugh.

In a languid rhythm, you got to the bathroom, peed, wiped, washed your hands, and walked out in the same lazy steps as you walked in, but before you reached the room, you heard the familiar noise of the living room window being opened. Funny thing, you didn't even need to look to know who it was.

Jason walked into your shared apartment as quietly as possible not to wake you up, not knowing that you were waiting for him to walk into the small hallway that led to your room.

He seemed to be as lazy as you were, his steps spaced out and heavy as he made his way. And, when he made the turn into the hallway, you jumped in his front to scare him, and uh... it didn't work.

You frowned instantly, and he let out a delightful, hearty chuckle at you, his free hand going to his knee as he laughed, the other held his red helmet.

"How... did you know?" You mumbled, your voice low and slightly disappointed. Not really sad, though.

He took a deep breath before answering you. "You left the bathroom light on." He said, glancing at the open door and strong cool light coming out of it. "I just expected you to be up."

You kept your frown and a slight pout ─ you had yet to succeed at scaring him.

Jason slid his big arms around your shoulders, squeezing you against his chest. He smelled like sweat and gunpowder, but you were used to it.

"I didn't get hit one single time tonight." He murmured into your hair, his face nuzzling your soft strands. You were so soft.

Jason wanted your approval. Wanted you to be proud of him for coming home in one piece tonight. You let out a soft huff at his words, your arms snaking around his waist and squeezing him, earning you a little grunt. "Should I expect that every night from now?" You murmured softly, with your lips so close to his ear, you didn't need to speak any louder than that.

He chuckled quietly. "I'm not gonna answer that."

Yeah, you knew that'd be the response. Jason liked the mess, he liked coming home and having to clean up the blood from his suit, he liked the slight pain from the bruises, and he especially liked when he was so beat up, you had to patch him up, apply ointment, kiss him better. He loved your attention, he loved any and everything you gave to him, physical or not.

"Why don't you go shower while I wait for you in bed?" You murmured in that quiet tone while your arms moved back a little so you could caress the exposed part of his forearms with your fingers.

"I already know I stink, you don't need to point it out." He teased, pulling back to flash a dumb smile at you, and you returned his with one of yours. "But I was going to do that anyway."

With that said, he pressed a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead before letting go of you. "Wait for me." He mused, already shedding his jacket even before he got to the bathroom.

You shook your head at him, but that dumb smile stayed on your lips for the rest of the night until you fell asleep in his arms.

☆

[dalliesque]

I'm On My Knees . . ! ! >//<

random things that make riize weak on their knees.

꒰ png ot7!riize x fem!reader , fluff , sillies , headcanons , established relationship , lower case intended . cw kisses, pet names . wc — (not proofread) ꒱

yu notes: MY FIRST ATTEMPT AT HC AAAA, NOT GONNA LET OT6 RUIN MY DAY 🫵

shotaro — your gaze

• it doesn't matter how long you have been dating him.

• your gaze would always melt him away, never failing to make him weak on his knees

• the way you stare at him loving, so warm, so comforting.

• he swears he'll always get hypnotised by it

• and at the end of it either staring back with a pair of lovesick eyes,

• or suddenly blurting out his dramatic plans of marrying you.

• well it could be both

"what do you want for dinner? it'll be my treat" a giddy giggle escape your lips, looking up from your phone to catch him staring. your gaze soften as you call for him in a small voice, "taro?" you tilt your head slightly. not receiving any reply back, you ask once again. "taro"—"let's get married."

sungchan — your voice + petnames

• there's just something so alluring about your voice

• it doesn't matter if your voice is sometimes soft, sometimes deep, raspy,

• even when you're not talking at all and just simply breathing

• it will always be a sweet treat to his ear.

• especially if you add in some sweet new names for him in your sentences

• he'll be kicking his feet like a highschool girl

• he's so obsessed with it, he will refuse to start a day without calling you or atleast receiving a voicemail from you.

• and obviously sleep calls when he's away are a must !!

"hello?" you utter sleepy, yawning and laying back down to your bed. you can hear shuffles through the call, confusion arising when he's not replying to your words. "pretty boy?" the call goes in one long silence as you can't hear him shuffling around on the other side anymore. "sungc"—"did you just call me a pretty boy??!!! KAKSJDJWISJSJSN WAIT I NEED A MINUTE"

eunseok — your caring nature

• idiot grin on his face

• like his smile is huge everytime your personality traits starts to show up

• the way he observes your attentiveness, your caring and kind nature

• his eyes will legit turns to hearts !!

• loves to watch as your caring mode turns on everytime you see animals, people or simply seeing,, him.

you drop down to a squat gently pushing the can of tuna towards a cute little kitten. "look at you.." you coo, offering your hand cautiously watching the way the kitten reacts before gently stroking it. eunseok smiles warmly, staring down at you and the way your expression soften whilst gently carresing the poor animal. "eunseok" you call softly breaking his trance. "yes baby?" eunseok's smile widens crouching next to you, you giggle gently reach out to fix the stray hair on his face. "can we adopt her?" eunseok swears he's fallen in love twice.

wonbin — your warmth

• wonbin lovesloooooves hugging you

• or cuddling you on top of a comfy mattress

• whether it's him spooning you or the other way around it doesn't really matter for him.

• what matters the most is your body pressed close against him at all times!

• he won't be able to function without the warmth your body provides, even if it's in the middle of summer 😵‍💫

you struggle in his embrace, trying to let go as the heat of summer slowly seeps through the window. feeling you pry open his arms, wonbin let out a whine pulling you closer as he hides in the crook of your neck. "it's so hot wonbin" you pout still trying to breakfree from his embrace. "i know im hot" a groan leaves your lips hitting his back gently. "atleast let me grab the ac remote??" wonbin sigh letting go slightly, his hand still perfectly wrapped around your wrist "fine, so this is how it is huh? you don't love me anymore." "oh shut up." you roll your eyes while chuckling softly turning on the ac before spooning him back in your arms, sighing in content.

seunghan — your touch

• blushing mess everytime your hands touch

• people might assume it would be the other way around, the way he acts most of the time proves that he wouldn't be the one clinging right?

• oh how wrong that is

• he'll make sure to keep you close 24/7

• it seems everytime you touch send such an electric feeling in his body

• and he'll never get enough of it, he will alwaaays be so flustered by it

you lean in slightly, your thumb brushing over his lips. "you got chocolate on your lips" you clarify, leaning back to your seat. sipping on your hot chocolate. seunghan quickly reaches out for your hand, placing it back to his lips. "seunghan..?" "i like your touch."

sohee — your smile

• this boy have the sweetest most beautiful smile and guess what?

• his weakness is your smile.

• he's such a tease about it too :(

• would do anything to see you trying to hold in your smile, looking away while blush crept up your skin. all because of him

"so pretty." he whispers softly, tucking a stray hair behind your ear. his eyes finding yours as you try your best to keep your composure, your eyes wandering everywhere but his pair. sohee holds back a giggle, seeing your flustered state. he gently touch your chin, forcing you to look his way. "baby.. pretty.. look at me."

anton — your kisses

• your kisses are his BIGGEST and i mean BIGGEST weakness ever

• most especially a kiss on his cheeks.. oh and his lips aswell !

• he will literally drop everything he's holding and drop down to his knees

"antoooooniooooo" you call fhim in a singsong voice, running giddily towards him. anton gives you sweet smile, pulling you in for a hug. "i missed you so much" you pout, soon pulling away. "i missed you too baby"— chuu! you lean in and gives him a big kiss on his cheek and another one on his lips as soon as he finished talking. your lipgloss staining his face. anton gasps, touching the places where you leave those kisses. feeling his knees weakening. "oh my—" "anton!!" you laugh keeping his knees from hitting the ground.

2024 ©️ dalliesque

@ :: @intakstars @taroddori @reenfludfmarshmallow @enhacolor @sftsohee

[tthoroughfare]

crush (part 2) // abby anderson

*･゜ﾟ･* summary: i owe you a black eye and two kisses. tell me when you wanna come and get 'em. abby finally confronts her feelings in the spur of the moment, then gets scared and runs away. it all works out in the end, though.

*･゜ﾟ･* pairing: canon!abby x reader

*･゜ﾟ･* content: nsfw. nothing too crazy just some yearny sesbian lex using hands. light injury description and abby being a horrible communicator

*･゜ﾟ･* length: 2.9k

this is part two of this series! find part one here

i hope you enjoy the second part! i'm so down to write more of this so lmk if anyone wants it

abby keeps it all to herself. she enjoys having you as a friend, and reasons that it’s better not to mess it all up. just because you like her whole entire gender doesn’t mean you like her. plus, she’s not even sure about what she’s feeling. figures that if she actually wasn’t straight, she’d surely have already known by now. but then again, she didn’t know you back then. didn’t feel what she feels around you.

then, one night, you’ve been around at hers, drinking and watching a movie with manny. she’d accidentally overindulged, possibly (definitely) out of nerves. you’d had to drag the chair and beanbag over in front of the TV, you and abby both piling onto the beanbag, chair not big enough to hold the two of you.

there was still barely enough room, and you were pressed up against her. at first, you were awkwardly perched, body rigid; but then, as the film went on and you had a little more to drink, you found yourself sinking into the seat, further into her.

by the end of it, your head is comfortably on her shoulder, laughing and chatting freely — she can smell your hair, feel the heat of your body against her, and she truly thinks she might combust.

once it’s gotten late, you say you’d better be heading back to your own place. abby tipsily insists on walking you back, even though it’s really not necessary. like, at all.

you jovially chat and giggle on the way back through the stadium, and all you can remember thinking is how glad you are that you met her. how rare it is for you to know someone who you feel so connected to, who everything feels so easy with almost instantaneously.

when you get to your door, she lingers around, keeping the conversation going even after you say goodnight — like she wants something from you, wants to say something but can’t. there’s a moment where it drops quiet, and she’s just looking at you. studying your face, maintaining eye contact for probably longer than she ever has. that’s when you realize she’s automatically drifted closer.

and then, liquid courage coursing through her veins and affirmed by you leaning on her earlier, she kisses you.

it’s quick, and you don’t return it. not because you don’t want to, but out of pure shock — never in a million years would you have seen it coming. you’d fully shelved your crush on her, under the impression it was never going to happen.

before you have a real chance to react, she pulls back, cheeks tinged red.

you speak at the same time: her blurting out, "sorry, fuck"; you simply shaking your head a little, stuttering, “a-abby, i…”

a beat passes, you slightly open-mouthed, abby’s hands anxiously fiddling with themselves at her sides. immediately, she’s sober. “fuck, i-i’m sorry. that was stupid.”

“no, abby, it’s just—“ before you can finish your sentence, she mutters something inaudible and turns, beginning to stride off down the hall, feeling like a fucking idiot. of course you didn’t like her, and she’d just drunkenly ruined it all for nothing.

your call of her name, followed by a, ‘wait!’ falls on deaf ears, and she turns the corner, gone. you’re left stunned, frozen outside your door, trying to process what just happened.

you want to go after her, have her allow you to explain yourself, but decide against it. you don’t know if she really meant it, you don’t know what her reasons were for running off; you don’t know what the fuck to do. so, despite every ounce of yourself begging you not to, you simply go inside and try your best to sleep. you can’t, though, mind whirring for hours on end until you finally pass out.

the next morning, you pray you run into her. usually, you always saw her at some point, but it was like she was avoiding everywhere you might be.

you see manny in the canteen later in the day, catching up to him and asking him where she is; he just shrugs, saying that she’d picked up an extra assignment and headed out that morning. might not be back for a day or two.

you can’t help but let out an exasperated sigh, crossing your arms. you knew it was on purpose. all over a kiss. “are you fucking kidding me?”

he gives you a funny look. “you two have a fight or something? she was… quiet when she came back.”

rolling your eyes, you shake your head after a moment. basically the opposite. “no… no, we didn’t.”

“right.” he quirks an eyebrow slightly, taking a breath. “you want me to talk to her when i see her?”

you shake your head vehemently, furrowing your brow. “nah, nah, don’t. just… let me know when she gets back, please?”

he nods once, tapping the side of your arm. “you got it.”

you utter out a thanks, and with that you’re off.

you don’t want to be mad at her, but you are. you don’t know why she’s running away from you, quite literally putting her life on the line just so she doesn’t have to face you. what makes it so much worse is she didn’t even give you a chance. if she’d have just heard you out instead of storming off, there wouldn’t even be an issue in the first place.

the next morning arrives, and abby’s still not back. the whole day, you fight the urge to walk over to her apartment and knock on the door every five minutes. you know manny said a day or two, but you can’t help but anxiously await her return the moment it’s plausible.

you try to keep yourself busy with work, but all your mind does is wander back to her. thinking about what she’s doing, if she’s okay, what you’re going to say to her when she gets back. you replay the kiss over and over in your head, scrutinizing every millisecond of it. what if the reason she freaked out was that she only did it because she was drunk, immediately realized she regretted it, and that’s why she’s avoiding you?

her absence just gives you too much time to worry, conjure up every worst case scenario. by the end of it, you’re essentially convinced she doesn’t like you, that it was a mistake, and now your friendship will never be the same.

finally, around noon the day after, manny collars you in the hallway and lets you know abby’s back. you let out a half relieved, half nervous sigh, nodding and thanking him. you can’t go talk to her right away — you’re too swamped with work, on your way back from the shortest lunch break known to man, but you know the second you’ve called it a day, you’re finding her.

it’s not until almost eight that you finally get to a place where you can break off, leaning back in your chair and running your hands over your face. you pack a few items away hurriedly, heart beating in your chest as you make your way over to abby’s.

it’s not her who answers the door, though — it’s manny. you blow air out of your nose at the fact you’re seeing more of him than her at this point.

“where is she?” you question gently, as if he doesn’t already know what you want.

the corners of his mouth quirk. “guess.”

“library?”

he clicks his tongue in affirmation, and you roll your eyes fondly before telling him you’ll see him later, turning to make your way down there.

standing outside the door, you realize how nervous you are. you’ve wanted nothing more than to see abby since it happened, but now the moment’s here you can’t help but feel hesitant about all the ways the conversation could go.

after a beat of psyching yourself up, you gingerly crack the door open, spotting her on the ottoman before gently wrapping your knuckles as you peer in. “knock, knock.”

she looks up, an unreadable expression on her face.

“can i come in?”

she pauses, sitting up properly and placing her book to the side. “uh… sure.”

you smile gratefully, picking your way in and softly closing the door behind you. you make your way over, taking a seat next to her with your hands folded in your lap, avoiding eye contact. “so…”

you can see her fiddling with the sleeve of her shirt in your peripheral vision. “so…?”

looking up at her, you go to say your rehearsed spiel, then the words get caught in your throat when you notice the injuries littering her face. a couple of gashes are set into her forehead and chin, purple blossoming over her cheekbone.

“what the hell have you done to your face?” it comes out a little more frustrated than the caring tone you intend, but you are frustrated. if she’d have stayed and listened, she wouldn’t have been avoiding you, and in turn wouldn’t have gone off and gotten herself hurt. you pivot your body to face her side, knee bending to rest your left leg sideways.

“it’s not anything.”

you tut, unable to help yourself from reaching out and running your thumb tenderly over the bruising. she pulls away from your touch slightly, to which you shoot her a look. “worse than i ever get.”

“you’re sheltered.”

she says it matter-of-fact, and you know it’s true. you’ve always had it better than her, better than most, never really being required to go into the field. both your parents are still alive, a rarity nowadays, both academics. the last time you were in real danger was simply when you were being moved into the base, going from safe point A to safe point B. 

still, it stings a little.

“yeowch,” you respond as you allow your hand to drop from her skin, only half joking. “there’s no need to be mean, abby.”

she rolls her eyes, still keeping her sight trained firmly ahead. “i’m not being…” she trails off, shaking her head a little and looking down at her hands. she moves to lean forward, forearms resting on her knees.

a pause passes that feels like an eternity, until you finally will yourself to speak. your voice is soft, low. “why did you run off on me the other night?”

she gnaws at her lip, not saying anything for a moment. “can we just forget about that? it was…”

“a mistake, i know. you were… you’d had a few drinks. i know you didn’t mean anything by it.” you finish her sentence for her, and she sighs and shakes her head in annoyance at how wrong you have it.

she swallows thickly in defeat, urging the words to come. she might as well tell you; she’s already basically fucked everything up. what does she have to lose?

“that’s… not it.” her words come out quiet, and she looks at you for the first time since you walked in, hands wringing in her lap.

you automatically shuffle a tiny bit closer, her leg warm against yours. “then what is it?”

“i didn’t… it wasn’t… because i was drunk. it was because i wanted to.” she takes a deep breath, shoulders sinking. “and then… you reacted all… i don’t know. anyway… you don’t see me like that. can we just move on?”

you look at her, mouth opening and closing a little. your brow furrows. “oh my god. are you serious?”

“what?” she replies, a little defensively.

“i reacted like that because i was fucking shocked. as far as i was aware, you didn’t even like girls, never mind me, and then you just kissed me out of nowhere. i didn’t know how to react. and then, you didn’t even give me chance to say anything and just walked off, and then i don’t see you for two days,” you blurt out, floodgates opened.

it’s her turn to be speechless again, looking up at you like a deer in headlights. “so… w-what are you saying?”

you don’t even bother to answer, knowing you can show her tenfold better than you can tell. you pull her up to you, hand resting on her jaw, pressing your lips to hers with a gentle urgency. she freezes for a split second before kissing back, one hand leaning on the ottoman behind you, the other coming up to cup your cheek.

you shift further in subconsciously, right leg going over one of hers and your free arm wrapping around her neck.

“jesus christ, abby,” you mumble against her lips between adoring smooches, “i can’t believe you.”

she breathes out a chuckle. “sorry.”

you have sex for the first time that night. you invite her to stay over, not even having those expectations. you just want to be with her, want to feel close to her, wake up side by side.

but then it drops late, and your lights are on low, having spent the evening conversing on your bed with the tv droning in the background. you’re both on your sides facing each other, propped up by an elbow. and you look so pretty in the dim yellow light, she can’t help herself from leaning in and kissing you, dripping with want.

you end up on top of her, fingertips stroking over either side of her face, hers pressing into your hips. all you can hear is your own pulse banging in your head, the labored, rapid breaths the two of you let out into each other’s mouths.

you don’t think you’ve ever wanted anything this much. you can feel yourself soaking your underwear, and nothing’s even happened.

abby swallows thickly, pulling back for a moment, knowing where this is all going. “you know i’ve never…” she trails off, implicating the last few words, voice husked with arousal.

you pause to look at her, lidded eyes dragging over her face, a slightly amused smirk tugging at the corners of your lips.

“i know,” you respond, leaning back in to mouth at the corner of hers, before kissing down to her jaw. you continue to speak against her skin, voice low. “you’ll figure it out.”

and she sure does.

you make love to each other. it’s all slow, and testing, but wanting and desperate. a lot of abby asking every two minutes if what she’s doing feels good, you guiding her and showing her how you like it. when you first flip her on top of you, tenderly taking her hair out from its braid and running your fingers through it, leading her hand under your waistband and showing her how wet you’ve gotten for her, she truly doesn’t know how the fuck she was ever, ever uncertain about her feelings.

you take your shirt off, baring yourself to her, then hers, needing to feel your skin flush against one another. her hands automatically move to make quick work of the lower half of your clothing, gaining confidence. and then you’re naked, spread out underneath her, all flushed and open mouthed, hips shifting into hers desperately — and it’s just like something takes over her.

she kisses over your chest languidly, exploring, needing to taste your skin. you gently take her wrist, moving her hand back between your legs, and your head falls back when she runs a finger through your folds. it’s a little clumsy, a little anxious, but abby’s a quick learner. she finds a rhythm, circling your clit as her mouth attaches to your nipple.

“abby, fuck…” you moan shakily, one hand tightening around her wrist, keeping her where it feels good, the other gripping lightly at her hair.

“is that okay?” she asks. she’s looking up at you reverently, desperate to impress, and the sight sends even more heat pooling in your lower belly.

you nod hungrily and your hand moves from her wrist to her waistband, voice coming out a lot more needy than you intend. “take these off.”

she obeys you without a word, and your free hand immediately goes to touch her, spreading her apart and toying with her clit, reveling in the noises it draws.

you make each other cum like that, touching each other at the same time, all needy and yearning. you’re first, abby’s nerves getting the best of her, you unable to help yourself. it all builds and builds until it hits you hard, breathy, high pitched moans and whines of her name tumbling out against her shoulder. hearing you, seeing you like that sends her absolutely reeling, and it’s not long until she’s there too. you pull her face level to yours with your free hand, threading your fingers through her hair, needing to look at her as she cums.

she looks so pretty, eyes screwed shut and brows drawn, parted lips rosy as she pants her way through her orgasm, unable to help the string of mmphs and low, strangled moans that escape her.

you work her through it, slowing your movements gradually, stroking at her face as she comes down. it’s quiet for a moment, just the sounds of the forgotten movie across the room and both of you attempting to regain your breathing.

“okay?” you ask, voice barely a whisper.

she nods, eyes still closed, tongue darting out to wet her lips. then, her mouth twitches, corners forming a small smile. “yeah. fuck.”

you mirror her, a tiny smile of your own tugging at your lips. “good.”

kissing her nose lightly, you shift your hand away from her pussy and pop your messy fingers in your mouth, cleaning her off you, relishing in her taste.

she watches through hazy eyes, committing the sight to memory.

yeah. she’s never looking back.

[stargatesg-1obsessed]

As someone who has only started writing this year, I feel this. I feel the pressure of feeling like I have to write just as good as some of my really good writer mutals or like the books i read, but in reality, they've been doing it for years, and I've just started. I don't need to be as good as them because I'm just going to end up critising myself for being a beginner writer and not having all the talent straight away, and that's just stupid.

All the feedback I've gotten on my fanfics has been wonderful. They're all really lovely people, and they're supportive even if the writing sucks because that's just what you do. It someone's writing is bad, don't point it out. If it bothers you that much, don't read it! I personally would much rather have one less hit on a fic than have someone be hateful in the comments. There is just no need for it. If you want to give them some tips, go for it. But don't be rude about it, especially when that person isn't a writer but is still judging them.

The whole point of fanfic is to have your own creative freedom, with the characters you love. And if your writing isn't as good as someone else's, or it doesn't sound as good as a book you've read, it doesn't matter!! All writers have off days, even the really talented ones with really popular books/fics. No one should critise you for your writing. They don't have the right. The only time it is semi acceptable is when you ask someone to beta a fic for you. And even then, it's not for critising. It's for helping out with any mistakes, typos, ooc dialogue, etc etc. You're not there to judge them, you're there to help them.

So please, if you see a fic with writing, that could be better, either support them, or just don't say anything. Because I know that writers need criticism sometimes, but what we really need is support. And if there is something you want to point out, say something simple like; "Loved this fic! Really loved how the characters interacted!! :D Although I think I saw a little typo towards the end when it says "the entire planet," I think you meant to put "the entire plane,". But it's not that big a deal, and we all make mistakes :))".

That's based on a comment I got from someone on AO3 who helped me out majorly with a typo. It changed the entire sentence and didn't make any sense otherwise. And they really saved me there.

But if you're going to say something rude like; "at the end, when you put "the entire plane," instead of what I think you meant to put which is "the entire planet," it really messed up the fic and it makes no sense." Then just don't point it out because I'm sure someone else with kinder words will.

Fanfic writers don't need to be as good as professional authors!!! Just have fun and create what you want, and what makes you happy. Don't be scared to post something because it's practise. We all do it, and we'll all improve if we have practising. Don't let someone else's harsh words stop you for doing what brings you joy.

At some point "fanfic can be as good as professional writing" became "fanfic should be as good as professional writing" and that's caused major damage to fandom spaces.

[thinemoonshine]

୨୧ 𝓼𝐮𝐥𝐤𝐲 𝓼𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐲! ୨୧

—⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ where enhypen messed up and has to turn (y/n)’s frown upside down…or they get the unfathomable horror: the silent treatment

enhypen hyung line x fem!enhypen 8th member content(s): light angst, dramatic members, clingy lovey enha, sunghoon gets bitten, (y/n) being doted on, fluffity fluff, they are so lovesick boys coded here type: imagines

note: this work is based off of ૮꒰ྀིthis꒱ྀིა ask! i tried to make it ot7 but i cannot, for the life of me, imagine (y/n) arguing with the maknae line. so sorry about that!! </3

⋆˙𐙚 L.HEESEUNG 𐙚˙⋆

heeseung's large doe eyes shift towards (y/n) from the TV screen much too frequently as they both sit at opposite sides of the couch. their distance is only a leg's length away but the frostiness in which (y/n) portrays makes it seem as if a single inch will give him frostbite.

who knew that eating the last ice cream could create such catastrophic casualty?

heeseung. heeseung knew. and yet he still did it.

it was a fair deal, the eight each get their own flavour of ice cream so that no arguments would ensue but (y/n), unlike the others, had to leave hers because she had a schedule—excited to have a cold, refreshing dessert after coming back.

but lo and behold, she comes back to a freezing, barren freezer—much like her stomach.

the culprit: lee heeseung himself, who claims that he assumed that (y/n) didn't wanna eat it.

and what did that get him?

pure, utter silent wrath—which he finds much, much scarier than the loud.

"(y/n)..." heeseung tries for the fifth time in the past 15 minutes and still, she's managed to act as if he isn't there. never before has she been so upset and it daunts him. how long is she gonna stay like this? it's only been minutes and he's already feeling like he's about to perish from her frigidity. "(y/n), i'm sorry. i'll buy you more! what ever type you want, as much as you want!"

now that gets him a reaction—although, different than what he expected.

she turns to him and he's just about to smile only for the corners of his lips to drop at the sight of her glare.

"you think that's gonna fix everything? of course, we can buy some more, that's obvious! that's not the problem! the problem here is you eating my food!" (y/n) seethes, brows knit and eyes sharpened. "do you know how exhausted i was after my schedule? i was so excited to go home and rest with my cold sweet snack to freshen me up but then suddenly, GONE."

heeseung cowers, hands gathered on his lap as his big, round eyes widen guiltily, brows droopy and bottom lip subtly sticking out. "i'm sorry...i just thought that you didn't want it anymore..."

the sound of her exasperated sigh only increases the weight in his chest but it becomes ten times worse when he sees her slumping back against the couch to not speak to him again.

no no no no, she was already talking to him! now, it's just gonna get worse.

"i should've asked first and i should've told you that i ate your ice cream," heeseung quickly says, fully determined to gain her forgiveness despite being just slightly prideful before.

he bites his lip, practically chewing on it but then perks when he sees her glancing at him. mustering up his courage, he scoots a little closer and feels hopeful when she doesn't seem to mind. "and! and i'll let you do yaja time for the whole day if i ever do something like this again."

now that, she likes. turning her head slowly with her crossed arms loosening, a small cheeky smile appears and gosh, does the sight of it lightens him so much.

"no take backs," she confirms to which he nods at with a tight lip grin of surrender but the moment she cheers and wraps her arms around him, he knows he'll let her have yaja time anytime if she only just asks.

heeeseung chuckles against her ear as he reciprocates the embrace before she pulls away to lie on his lap to which he takes advantage of to play with her hair. he knows how much the gesture relaxes her—hoping that it'd be enough to rid off her exhaustion.

⋆˙𐙚 P.JONGSEONG 𐙚˙⋆

this is it. this is the end for him.

never ever had he ever thought the day would come—the day that (y/n) and him argue.

it’s not as dramatic as he makes it seem but it sure is for him considering how he and (y/n) are always on the same page. so to have them turning the other way from each other is disastrous.

this morning, the two were making breakfast together alongside sunghoon and riki after they lost a game. jay and (y/n) were in the kitchen while riki and sunghoon were getting the stuff from the nearby mart.

all (y/n) wanted was to wash the dishes but jay, ever so gentlemanly jay, insisted that he do the dirty work while she just get the tools ready.

call it morning moodiness or whatever, but (y/n) was not having it.

“what’s wrong with me doing the dishes?” (y/n) asked, brows knit with slight irritation.

“nothing. it’s just better for me to do it while you get the stuff for cooking ready,” jay answered.

(y/n) crossed her arms. “and why is it better for you to do it? oh, so apparently i’m bad at cleaning now.”

“i never said that!” the other denied, a frown present as well.

“then let me do what i wanna do,” the girl adamantly said to which jay sighed heavily at followed with a frustrated, “can’t you just stop the attitude?”

and that was when the horrible, bone-eating, mind plaguing, day-nightmare started: the silent treatment.

it’s afternoon now and jay can’t seem to find (y/n) anywhere around him—like he’s some sort of personal virus to her. the clothes he’s folding has never felt more heavier and the stacks he’s made are messy, barely proper squares of folded clothing.

usually, (y/n) would be around to accompany him—making hot drinks and bringing snacks to feed him since he has to keep his hands clean. he’d be sitting with soft hums leaving him every once in a while as she talks his ears off.

and sometimes, when there aren’t any undergarments in the basket, (y/n) helps with folding too—undoubtedly making even prettier stacks to which jay is both proud and jealous of.

her absence is palpable. and the silence is anything but tranquil—stifling and ridiculing him for being such a coward.

beep beep beep beep!

his head snaps towards the door at the sound of their automated door lock. are the members home already?

and in comes a—no, the member: (y/n).

she nearly pauses in her tracks when she steps into the living room, inevitably making eye contact with jongseong but she’s quick to feign indifference—and it hurts. little does she know that he feels the same if not more.

“…where are the rest?” jay initiates a conversation and (y/n), with her back on him as she puts down her bag on the counter, subtly loosens up. her stiff shoulders relax just at the mere sound of his voice.

“they’re filming some tiktok challenge. didn’t feel like joining,” (y/n) answers and jay intends to ask more about it but is interrupted by her swift “i’m sorry.”

his eyes widen subtly, brows raise and he watches as she slowly turns to face him with her hands pressed on the counter she leans against.

“i know you were just trying to give me the easy work by doing the dishes. i shouldn’t have been so worked up,” she apologizes sincerely, tone heavy with remorse and jay smiles softly at that.

then, he puts away the towel he’s holding to spread his arms wide open—tender gaze melting her significantly so and she approaches with airy steps before being pulled by jay into him.

jay sighs as he buries his face into her hair while his fingers comb through comfortingly. his other arm is securely wrapped around her waist as she reciprocates the hug.

“don’t. don’t apologize. after all, i should’ve let you do what you wanted,” jay assures as he leans back slightly so (y/n) can comfortably rest against him—his arms practically engulfing her whole into his chest and he can’t help but feel a flutter.

it feels…nice to just hold her close like this. to feel her warmth, to hear her gentle breathing, to be reciprocated so endearingly and just be so uncritically affectionate of one another.

he smiles at that as he feels the life being rekindled in his soul and spirit, arms tightening around her.

“…i don’t feel like doing the dishes now, though.”

“we’ll dump it on the rest.”

⋆˙𐙚 S.JAEYUN 𐙚˙⋆

he’s never felt such anguish before. sure, this situation’s reminiscent to when the members cast him aside for his birthday surprise but that ended on a happy note.

this? this he doesn’t know how it’s going to end.

he didn’t mean to, he swears. he just got o too competitive with the game that he ended up neglecting (y/n)—pushing her away when she wanted to share some insight because he thinks his way is the best.

sure, he got his victory, but at what cost? in the end, it still feels like he lost.

they’re now hanging at (y/n)’s apartment during their once in a while visits considering she lives separately. but the hostess herself isn’t around. she’s locked in her room ‘to sleep’, she said, but jake’s not buying it.

he knows she’s probably mad at him for this morning’s en-o’clock recording and is refusing to even look at him. the thought makes him nervously gnaw on his bottom lip as he distractedly stares at the others playing with the jenga block.

cheers and groans erupt in the room when the build falls and jake stands on his feet, unable to take the tension in his form and the loud noises in his head, and heads to the hallway where (y/n)’s room and bathroom are at.

away from the members’ eyes, he then softly knocks at her door and her instant, “who is it?” solidifies his theory of her being fully awake and avoiding him.

his brows knit and tilt at the ends, dejection growing, before he answers. “it’s…jake.”

a pregnant pause before the door swings open to reveal (y/n) who seems rather indifferent, a complete juxtaposition from the other with shifty, nervous puppy eyes that plead for entry.

her stepping aside and widening the gap of the door mean permit to which he quickly yet gingerly accepts.

she hasn’t even closed the door yet before he instantly spouts, “i’m sorry.”

the door clicks behind her and she leans against it to face jake who’s sitting so politely at the edge of her bed—legs pressed together, back straight and hands on his lap as he looks up at her through long overgrown bangs.

“i’m sorry, (y/n). i-i didn’t mean to…” is all he says before lowering his head and clenching his fists.

the sight both warms and aches her to which she reacts with a sigh—instantly alarming the other who snaps his head back up to see her approaching. he tenses, ready to apologize again, ready to mention the full details on how he shouldn’t have been so hard-headed and selfish and—

oh.

his eyes shut unconsciously when her fingers gently rake his hair back to free his beautiful eyes and forehead. he nearly forgets the words in his head from the pure relief and delight that fills him.

lashes flutter as he slowly opens his eyes back to sweetly gaze up at (y/n) with a look she truly believes to be criminal with how overwhelmingly adorable it is—puppy eyes searching hers for comfort, cheeks glowy and lips pouty.

he makes her want to physically squeeze him until he pops!

so she does—as much as she can, anyways.

hands cup his pretty face as she squeezes just enough to put pressure and make his lips stick out like a pufferfish’s.

a little confused “hm?” sounds from jake as he furrows but the sight of the smile on her face instantly evokes his own—breaking into a wide grin with the corners of his lips curling as he stays between her palms practically buzzing with glee.

“just don’t do that again,” (y/n) warns and he nods vigorously before shutting his eyes again to fully melt into her hands.

if only she knew how close he was to just bawling his eyes out if she rejected his apology. he can’t imagine living without her attention like this.

⋆˙𐙚 P.SUNGHOON 𐙚˙⋆

ice and ice. truly ice ice baby—but with a negative connotation.

sunghoon and (y/n) almost never argue, the two always having similar outlooks or just accepting the other but this time, that wasn’t the case.

the rarer the arguments mean the heavier they are whenever it happens. and it’s so painfully blatant because everyone can sense and see the tension that stretches between sunghoon and (y/n).

one slight pull and it might just snap!

it’s hard to miss, of course. the way his eyes narrow at her and the way her gaze shifts to a glare, the way she steers clear of his space just as he does to her and the most obvious one of all: he doesn’t dote on her like how he usually would.

sunghoon, self-proclaimed (y/n)’s big brother, would always show his affections in one way or another. whether by making sure she’s fed, or by doing his favourite habit of putting his whole hand on top of her head—fingers sprawled and all as his palm covers her crown.

it doesn’t even have to be a pat or anything—just grabbing her scalp and voila! that’s it.

so the fact that he hasn’t done it at all today, is a dead giveaway on their argument.

and so obviously, the members had to send them both on grocery duty. sure, they all went together but they’re so adamant in asking sunghoon and (y/n) to search for some specific stuff on the list together.

“what type of sauce do they want again?” (y/n) asks monotonously, not even bothered to look at sunghoon while stands a few steps away with his hands in his jacket’s pockets.

he pulls the list out. “***** brand.”

the girl hums and chooses it before passing it to the other without making a single eye contact. sunghoon, obviously, returns the favour.

and this routine goes on and on until eventually, sunghoon’s had enough.

he can’t do this. not anymore. not another second of this torture. he feels as if his heart is being torn apart before being harshly shredded to pieces and finally being blended into a juice of depression.

seeing (y/n) so unfeeling around him is so foreign. he hates it. he doesn’t want her hating him. no, that’s the last thing he wants. he can’t digest that.

it’s clear when it starts bothering him because sunghoon’s beginning to glance at her every once in a while. when previously all he wanted was to ignore and be ignored, now all he wants is to see and be seen.

whenever (y/n) puts stuff in the trolley, his eyes follow her every movement. when she asks him for the things on the list, he answers with his gaze set on her—hoping she’ll turn away from the shelf and onto him. and when he sees her favourite snacks, he quietly yet excruciatingly slowly puts it in the cart with a silent plea for her to notice.

and she does. but she doesn’t comment.

still, she isn’t heartless. so she asks, “we finished the list. you want anything else?”

“for you to forgive me,” sunghoon murmurs but the emptiness of the isle they’re in amplifies it.

she finally looks at him, surprised, and it’s doubled when she sees him already looking at her.

he wears a solemn yet sad mien. the bobs of his adam apple expose the vulnerability he feels and (y/n) lets out a deep breath before walking towards him.

“i’m sorry,” he says genuinely and his hand twitches by his side as he restrains from reaching out to pat her head.

it’s not overlooked by the other however, and instead of verbally responding to his apology, she instead cups his hand in both of hers—his flinching at the sudden hold—before she lifts it up to put it on her crown.

sunghoon breaks into a slow grin—eyes upturning and one corner of his lips lifting higher than the other into an endearing smirk—before he ruffles her hair, only to fix it back after.

he chuckles from relief but it’s cut short by a brief grunt at the sudden chomp on his arm. his eyes are wide and lips agape as he stares at (y/n) who’s latched her teeth onto his arm that’s raised to caress her head.

he blinks. she blinks back before slowly pulling away.

“forgiveness tax.”

and all he can do is shake his head with an amused scoff at her absurdity.

“i guess i deserve that.”

[chancloud8]

Teach Me

Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader

Word Count: 2,4k

Tags: A little bit of angst, Fluff, Kissing, OT8

Summary: After a failed date you find comfort with your best friend. He even offers to teach you how to kiss. Crazy, right?

*****************************

'Channie?' you call out when you step into the recording studio.

It was already close to midnight, but you know for a fact that your best friend is still here. He always stays late to work on his songs, either alone or sometimes with Jisung or Changbin.

'In here!' Chan's familiar voice calls back and relief floods your body at the sound of it.

You wipe your cheeks one last time with the back of your hands and take a deep breath before forcing yourself to smile.

'Bestie incoming,' you sing song as you walk the narrow hallway towards the room where his voice came from.

As soon as you walk through the door you freeze.

It wasn't just Chan inside. All the other members of his band are scattered across the couch and floor. Multiple take-out boxes and containers cover the small table and the smell of pizza and chinese food hits your nose.

Eight pairs of eyes are staring at you and it takes a few seconds before any of them react. Chan is the first one to jump up, his brows are furrowed as he takes in the state you're in.

You know you must look like a mess. Your hair is loose and wild from how you've kept running your hand through it, you know your make-up is smeared and your eyes are red from crying. You keep the smile on your face, hoping to fool your friends, but the moment he takes a step forward you know you haven't.

'You cried. What happened?' Chan asks when he's in front of you, softly grabbing your chin between his fingers so you have to look at him.

'Who do we need to hurt?' Changbin yells as he also jumps up from the couch to get closer to you as well.

You flinch at his loud voice and Chan turns his head to glare at his friend.

'No one, Binnie. I'm fine,' you say, but you know your smile is faltering.

'You're not,' Felix's deep voice says from behind Chan. You hadn't even noticed him getting up too. 'Who did this?'

You shake your head at him. 'It's nothing, don't worry about it.'

Telling Chan what happened was one thing, but telling all of them?

Nope.

You couldn't do it. It would be too mortifying.

'Come sit with us,' Chan says, letting go of your chin so he can grab your hand and lead you towards the couch where Jeongin, Seungmin and Jisung quickly make room for you.

As soon as you sit down, Seungmin shrugs off his jacket and hangs it around your naked shoulders. You shiver as the fabric touches your skin, it's warm and soft and you hadn't realized how cold you were.

'Where's your jacket?' Chan asks, as if he only just noticed you weren't wearing any while it's no longer hot outside at night.

The guys are all quiet, waiting for you to answer the question.

'I- uhm,' you swallow. 'I forgot it.'

'You forgot your jacket?' Chan narrows his eyes, seeing straight through your bullshit. 'You never go anywhere without--'

'I forgot! I was in a hurry to get away, okay,' you interrupt him, tears welling up in your eyes again as you think of the horrifying moment.

As one all of the guys lean forward, frowns adorn their faces.

'Get away from who?' Chan and Changbin growl practically at the same time.

'Y/N,' Felix gets up from his seat 'Are you hurt?'

'No, no,' you hurry to say. 'I'm okay, I promise. I'm just--' You groan and bury your face in your hands so you don't have to look at their faces. 'I'm extremely embarrassed and maybe a bit upset, but I'm fine.'

When they stay silent, you sigh and lift your head to look them all in the eye.

'I'm fine.'

They don't seem convinced and you can't really blame them.

'Look, I didn't expect you all to be here or I wouldn't have come. I'll just go home, bury myself in blankets and sleep,' you say, starting to get up.

Seungmin grabs your arm and pulls you back on the couch.

'No way we're letting you go when you're feeling down. You shouldn't be alone,' he says and the other guys all nod in agreement.

'And if you want to talk to Channie alone, we can leave you alone for a bit,' Jeongin offers, giving you an encouraging smile.

Your heart swells with how thoughtful they all are and you instantly feel a little better. You always knew they were good guys, but after tonight it was nice to get a reminder that thoughtful and kind guys still exist.

'But if you want you can talk to us too, we won't judge you, I promise,' Lee Know says from his spot on the floor.

'Or if you just want to eat or help us out with making music, that's fine too,' Hyunjin adds with a smile.

'We can also still beat up whoever made you cry,' Jisung swings his fist around in the air.

You can't help but tear up again.

'Y/N?' Chan moves over to you again and kneels down in front of you, placing his hands on your knees. 'You're not alone, you're okay and we're all here for you.'

That does it.

A sob escapes your mouth and you throw your arms around his neck, not caring about the guys seeing you cry anymore.

Chan immediately wraps his arms around you and pulls you against his body. Like a koala you wrap yourself around him and you bury your face in his neck, letting his familiar scent calm you down.

'It's okay, you're okay,' Chan continues to whisper as he strokes your back. 'I'm here.'

It takes a few minutes for you to calm down, but when you do, you feel a lot better. You allow yourself a few more moments, keeping your head in the crook of Chan's neck as you slowly get a grip of yourself again.

'I'm sorry,' you whisper.

'What for?' Chan whispers back.

You know that everyone can probably still hear you, but it still feels like it's just Chan and you. In some way the guys are a part of Chan anyways.

'For crying and for ruining your night.'

Chan's hands move up to your arms and he gently pushes you away from his chest so he can look at you.

'You could never ruin my night, Y/N, and as for the crying, isn't that what a best friend is for?'

Your lips curl up in a watery smile and you bring your hand up to pat his cheek.

'My sweet Channie.'

He chuckles and squeezes your arms. 'That's me. Now will you please tell your sweet Channie what happened tonight?'

Your smile disappears and immediately so does Chan's.

'What happened?' he repeats, his eyes dark.

'I just went on a shitty date,' you finally confess. 'He was very nice at first, but-'

'I swear if he hurt you,' Chan growls and from the corner of your eyes you see two other members get up as well.

'Stop being so macho,' you roll your eyes. 'I appreciate your concern babe, but I'm okay and he didn't hurt me.'

Chan narrows his eyes at you and cocks his head. 'Then what did he do, Y/N?'

'Did he force you to do anything you didn't want?' Changbin asks, sitting down next to you and Chan.

You wait a second too long with denying it and both men tense up.

'No, no! It's not like that,' you hurry to say. 'He just-' You pinch the bridge of your nose and close your eyes. 'He laughed at me.'

Chan blinks at you and so does Changbin.

'What for?' Lee Know pipes up from behind you.

'Did he just laugh or did he say stuff as well?' Hyunjin asks from the couch.

You sigh and bite your lip, debating whether or not to just blurt it out. It all seemed so silly now.

'Y/N?' Chan asks again.

'He kissed me and I didn't expect it,' you say, closing your eyes in mortification. 'I froze at first and when he-' you shiver and Chan balls his hands up in fists.

'He what?' Felix asks softly.

'God this is so embarrassing you guys, you're going to laugh at me too,' you groan, letting your head fall against Chan's chest again.

'We won't,' Jeongin promises and the others hum in agreement.

'I freaked out,' you mumble. 'And when he put his tongue in my mouth, I may have gagged and started hyperventilating.'

The guys are quiet around you and for a moment you wonder if they heard you. Just as you lift your head from Chan's chest, they all start to talk at once. They don't laugh. All their faces are serious as they try to talk over each other. All except Chan.

'What?' you whisper at him when his eyes stay locked with yours.

‘I had no idea you’ve never been kissed before,’ he says, his eyes falling to your lips for a millisecond. ‘And I’m sorry your first experience with it was awful.’

You shrug and snort when a thought enters your mind. ‘If only you could teach me how to properly kiss so I don’t freak out next time,’ you joke.

Everyone falls quiet and Chan’s eyes darken before he looks down at your lips again. His tongue comes out to moisten his lips and your heart skips a bit at the sight. Shit, he had no right to look at you like that.

‘I’m only joking,’ you choke out, breaking the silence and shifting awkwardly in Chan’s lap.

Chan’s hands fall down to your hips and he holds you still.

‘I could, you know,’ he says then. ‘Teach you.’

You open your mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. All you can do is stare at him with big eyes, both in shock and intrigued. Was he really serious? Would he teach you? Wouldn’t that be weird? Wouldn’t that ruin your friendship?

‘Or any of us could,’ Changbin pipes up, breaking your thoughts. ‘Or if you need some practise after Chan teaches you-’

‘Shut up, Bin,’ Chan interrupts his friend, his hands tightening around your hips.

‘Hey, don’t get all alpha on Y/N now Channie,’ Jisung teases.

You laugh and look around at the guys, no longer feeling awkward. They really are the nicest people you know.

‘Thank you,’ you smile at them. ‘I feel much better already.’

A chorus of cheers makes you laugh and for a moment you forget the offer that still hangs in the air. That is, until Chan suddenly stands up and hauls you with him as you were still in his lap.

‘Come with me,’ he says when you stand on your own legs again.

He grabs your hand and leads you to the hallway as another chorus of cheers and whistles erupts in the room. When the door to the recording studio falls close and the sound of the guys falls away, you find yourself alone with Chan. Your heart is beating so wild in your chest that you wonder if Chan can hear it.

Is he going to kiss you? Does he really want to? What if you freak out again?

As always Chan seems to be able to read your mind and when he cups your face with his hands and locks his gaze with yours, everything else falls away. He leans his forehead against yours and his warm breath puffs against your lips.

‘Breathe,’ Chan whispers. ‘Just breathe for a moment.’

You do as he says and close your eyes as you focus on his breathing, trying to match it with yours while you try to ignore how close his lips are to yours. It doesn’t take long before you’re breathing in the same rhythm and when you open your eyes you find Chan already looking at you.

‘Now what?’ you ask, biting your lip. ‘Will you really teach me?’

Chan’s lips move up in a sweet smile and he moves his hands so that one of them is cupping the back of your neck, while the other grabs onto your chin.

‘Do you want me to?’

You should feel nervous, like you were on your date earlier, but you’re not. You feel calm. Safe. Excited.

‘Yes,’ you whisper, gripping the front of his shirt between your fingers. ‘Please.’

‘Stay still and relax, okay?’ Chan nods and then he cups your face again with his big hands. The cool metal of his rings feel nice against your hot cheeks.

Chan slowly moves his face even closer to yours and when your noses touch he stills, once again letting his breath tickle your mouth. You tremble in anticipation and tighten your fingers on the fabric of his shirt.

‘Channie,’ you breathe out, nearly panting already when he hasn’t even done anything.

Chan chuckles and closes the distance, pressing his lips against yours softly. His thumb gently caresses the skin of your cheek and you melt against him as he slowly moves his mouth over yours. You copy his movement and when he hums against your mouth in approval you feel like you’re on cloud nine.

Who knew kissing could feel so good?

After what feels like only a few seconds, Chan pulls back and you shamelessly chase his mouth with yours. A hoarse chuckle escapes Chan’s throat, but he lets you kiss him again. And again.

There’s no tongue, but at the moment you don’t feel like you neither need or want that. Not yet.

No. This is enough for now.

Chan’s lips were plump and soft and you felt like you were surrounded by his comfortable smell and touch. It felt amazing, addicting and oh so wonderful.

When you finally pulled back again to look at Chan, his pupils were dilated and his lips were red and a little swollen. He looked beautiful and you fight the urge to kiss him again.

‘Lesson one complete?’ you grin up at him.

Chan flicks your nose with his finger and grins back at you.

‘Lesson two will include tongue, think you can handle it?’

You shiver at the thought. If kissing Chan feels this good without tongue already, how would it be to really kiss him?

‘I think I can handle anything when it’s with you.'

************************************

a/n: eeeekkkk my first y/n fic. I hope you like it <3

I debated having all the guys teach her, but ended up with just Chan for now. I also might write a part 2 (; xxx

[flowerbunnyboo]

PAINT ME WITH YOUR PISS | back

starring: zayn malik x male reader

summary: Zayn and Mn are having hot sex on the couch with Zayn drunk in dom top power making his husband piss

nsfw, piss kink

a/n: tysm for requesting this! I really love piss kink so I was very excited to write this

Zayn leaned back against the plush leather couch, his muscular arms wrapping around his slender husband Mn as he settled onto his lap. The younger man's wrists were bound together behind his back, leaving him vulnerable and exposed.

With a wicked grin, Zayn began to slowly rock his hips, grinding Mn's ass against his thick, hard cock straining against the confines of his jeans. "Mmm, you feel so good baby," he purred into Mn's ear, nipping at the lobe playfully.

Mn let out a whimper, squirming slightly in Zayn's grasp. "Please, I can't take much more," he pleaded, his voice trembling with need and discomfort. His legs ached from being bent awkwardly, while the constant friction against his stretched hole had him teetering on the edge of pain.

Zayn chuckled darkly, giving Mn's tied hands a squeeze. "Oh but you will, my little crybaby. We're just getting started." He punctuated his words with a sharp spank to Mn's plump cheek, watching with satisfaction as a bright red handprint bloomed across the tender skin.

Mn yelped, his eyes watering. "Zayn, please! It hurts!" Despite his protests, his body betrayed him, instinctively rolling its hips back to meet each thrust of Zayn's cock.

"You love this, don't you?" Zayn growled, delivering another stinging slap. "Love feeling me deep inside you, stretching your greedy hole until you can't take anymore."

"I-I do, but not like this!" Mn gasped, his breath coming in short pants.

Zayn smirked, amused by his husband's desperation. "Not like what, hmm? You want it rougher?"

He gripped Mn tighter, forcing him to arch his back as Zayn pistoned his cock up into him with renewed vigor. Mn's cries turned to moans, his body betraying its pleasure despite his pleas.

"Yes, yes, fuck me harder!" Mn suddenly begged, his face flushed with arousal. "Make me cum!"

Zayn laughed cruelly. "Not yet, you impatient slut. First, you're going to make a mess for me." He reached down and rubbed Mn's sensitive dick in time with his thrusts, pushing him closer to the brink.

Mn's legs trembled, his balls drawing up tight. "I can't hold it, Zayn! I'm gonna pee!"

Zayn grinned wickedly, loving how Mn's body responded to his dominance. "Go ahead then, baby. Soak me with your piss. Show me how dirty a whore you really are."

Mn's eyes widened in shock, but before he could protest further, a hot stream of urine splashed against Zayn's stomach. The older man didn't flinch, simply continuing to rut into his husband's abused hole.

"That's it, empty those bladder muscles for me," Zayn coaxed, his fingers dancing over Mn's twitching cockhead. "Let go and cum all over my dick. Paint yourself with your own filth."

As if triggered by Zayn's words, Mn's orgasm crashed through him, his vision blurring as thick ropes of cum shot out to coat Zayn's shaft and balls.

Zayn groaned, feeling Mn's climax milking his cock. He continued to pump into his husband's still-tight heat, chasing his own release.

"Fuck, look at you," he panted, admiring the mess they'd made. "Soaking my clothes with your seed and piss. You're such a filthy little slut for me."

Mn slumped against Zayn's chest, spent and panting. "I...I love you," he whispered, his voice raw.

Zayn smiled, finally allowing himself to sink into blissful release. He filled Mn with wave after wave of hot cum, marking him as his own.

"I know, baby," he murmured, stroking Mn's hair soothingly. "And I love you too, even when you act like a needy little whore."

After several long moments, Zayn gently untied Mn's wrists, helping him to stand on shaky legs. Together, they stumbled towards the bathroom, Zayn supporting his exhausted husband.

Once inside, Zayn guided Mn under the warm spray of the shower, washing away the evidence of their intense coupling. As the water rinsed off the cum and urine, Zayn pulled Mn close, kissing him deeply.

"We're not done yet," he whispered against Mn's lips, his hands roaming possessively over Mn's slick skin. "I've got plans for round two, and this time, you're going to beg for it."

Hours later, Mn lay sprawled on the bed, his body aching in the most delicious way. Zayn knelt between his thighs, his cock already hard and ready to claim his husband once again.

"Mmm, look at you," Zayn purred, running a finger along Mn's swollen, well-used hole. "So pink and pretty, just begging to be fucked some more."

Mn whimpered, his hips lifting involuntarily. "Zayn, please...I don't think I can take anymore..."

Zayn chuckled darkly, pressing the head of his cock against Mn's entrance. "Oh, but you will, baby. Because I'm not done making you mine until you can't remember your own name."

Zayn carried Mn to the bedroom leaving the mess in the living room as is. He threw his husband on the bed, licked his lips as he lustfully took a nice look at his sexy and gorgeous Mn.

With that, he pushed forward, sinking into Mn's warmth with a satisfied groan.

Mn cried out, his body tensing as Zayn filled him completely once more. Despite the exhaustion seeping into his bones, a spark of desire still flickered within him, drawn to the dominant presence above.

"P-please, Zayn..." he managed to gasp out, his voice hoarse from hours of pleading. "It's too much...my legs, my ass...it hurts..."

Zayn merely smirked, beginning to move his hips in slow, deliberate strokes. "That's the point, sweetheart. To push you past your limits and make you submit completely to me."

Mn sobbed, tears streaming down his face as Zayn picked up speed, driving into him with relentless precision. Each thrust sent jolts of pleasure-pain coursing through Mn's battered body, threatening to overwhelm him entirely.

"Zayn, mercy!"

Zayn laughed cruelly, not slowing his pace one bit. "Mercy is for the weak, baby. And you're anything but that."

He reached down, jerking Mn's sensitive dick in time with his brutal thrusts. Mn's hips bucked wildly, his mind fogging over as he teetered on the edge of another explosive orgasm.

Suddenly, Zayn pulled out, leaving Mn empty and wanting. Before the younger man could protest, Zayn flipped him over onto his hands and knees, spreading Mn's cheeks wide.

"Look at you, so desperate for my cock," Zayn sneered, spitting on Mn's hole. "Such a filthy little cocksleeve, always craving to be used."

Without warning, Zayn plunged his cock back inside, this time aiming directly for Mn's prostate.

Mn screamed, his body convulsing as Zayn's cock struck his sweet spot dead-on. The intense stimulation sent him hurtling towards climax once more, his prostate throbbing in time with Zayn's ruthless thrusts.

But just as Mn was about to peak, Zayn withdrew again, leaving him dangling on the precipice of ecstasy. This time, however, instead of returning to his original position, Zayn moved behind Mn, pressing the head of his cock against the cleft of Mn's ass.

"What are you doing?" Mn gasped, his heart pounding in fear and anticipation.

Zayn's response was to spit on Mn's trembling hole, the cool liquid sending shivers down his spine. Then, with a dark chuckle, Zayn began to push forward, breaching Mn's asshole inch by excruciating inch.

Mn moaned, his body trembling with pleasure as Zayn slid deep inside him. He wrapped his legs around Zayn's waist, pulling him closer, urging him to go deeper.

"Yes, yes," he gasped, eyes rolling back in bliss. "Take me, Zayn. Make me yours."

Zayn grinned, gripping Mn's hips tightly as he started to thrust. His rhythm was steady, measured, building slowly towards an inevitable peak.

"That's right, baby," he murmured, nipping at Mn's earlobe. "Cum for me. Show me how much you love having my cock buried in your tight little ass."

Mn obeyed, crying out as he came hard, sensation of pure pleasure washing over him. As he rode out his orgasm, Zayn followed suit, filling Mn with his seed.

However filling Mn up didn’t stop Zayn. His speed wasn’t slowing. “Fucking slut, your hole is swallowing me”, Zayn moaned as he spat in mn’s mouth.

Mn couldn’t even fathom what was going on. “I-I’m gonna..”, and without another word, Mn shot a long stream of piss making Zayn chuckle. “Looks like I’m draining your balls”

Once Mn was fully drained, Zayn completely stopped and pulled out of mn’s swollen hole.

"I love you," Zayn whispered, collapsing beside Mn on the bed.

Mn smiled, turning to press a soft kiss to Zayn's lips. "I love you too."

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[beef-brisket]

Angel: ...shit- okay. We fuck up all 900 of them!

Adam chuckes: I love the confidence, Angel, but it won't be that simple. Only Heaven could take down a hoard that big. And no offense, love. But one hit with an angelic weapon would do a decent amount of damage to you.

Lucifer narrowed his eyes.

Adam: And there will be 900 sinners after you at once. This is dangerous. For all of us.

Charlie was pacing: So- what do we do?! Alastor is dead, Eve is... who knows where! And Heaven- they want us dead just as much!

Adam: I know where Eve is.

Everyone turned to look at Adam.

Charlie: W-What? You do? Adam, she hasn't be seen in thousands of years!

Lute huffed and rolled her eyes: I wish.

Adam: Hush, Lute. You have all met Eve. Well, most of you have. She was here a year ago. Ivy, she goes by now.

Angel: Whoa- wait. You married Eve?! The second woman!? Eve- Eve!?

Adam: Yes, Angel. THE Eve. And trust me, she's not all she cracked up to be.

Angel: Huh... I can see why you're jealous, Lute.

Lute: Jealous!? Of what?

Angel: You've had a thing for Adam for ages! I could tell the moment he snapped you here!

Adam grinned and smugly looked at Lute. He knew about her feelings for him, especially when she was an overlord. And yes, he messed around with her once to get into her good books. But that was all their relationship was.

Adam needed a powerful friend who wasn't a complete maniac. Which Adam later learned wasn't accurate for Lute. She could be insane when she wanted to be.

Lute: I have no feelings for him, but distain! He stole my fucking soul! After everything I fucking did for him!

Adam: Calm down, Lute. It's all water under the bridge-.

Lute: No, it's not! You cheated! We bet our souls- and my contracts! You cheated!

Lute was in Adam's face, who was now glaring and snarling at her.

Adam: Watch your tone, bitch. I'm not in the fucking mood to deal with your bullshit.

Lute: Bite me, Adam! I don't give a fuck what mood you're in. This has been a long time fucking coming-!

Everyone gasped as Adam picked Lute up by her neck and slammed her into the bar, breaking the counter and smashing the bottles.

Adam: I've had enough of your attitude, bitch! I never cheated! You just couldn't handle the fact I bet you at your own game~.

Charlie quickly walked over to Adam and tugged on his arm.

Charlie: Adam! Stop- please!

Adam glared down at Lute, who was bleeding and shaking. He let go of her and stood up, straightening his jacket.

Adam: Sorry about that, everyone. But it was about time I put her in her place. Isn't that right, Lute~?

Lute quickly nodded. She stiffened as Adam bent down and pulled her to her feet.

Adam: I'm sorry I had to embarrass you like that, Lute. But I do not tolerate disrespect.

Lute only nodded and wiped the blood from her nose. She silently stepped aside as Peter ran over and started to pick up the bits of glass and wood.

Lucifer: Adam. That was uncalled for.

Adam tensed and looked at his partner: Love, I have a reputation to uphold, especially with my contracts.

Lucifer sighed and walked over to Lute and started to heal her.

Lowkey want an au where Adam has Alastors' powers.

The tentacles

The eyes

The changing size

The shadows

The sass

The deal making

Him owning Husk and Nifty

The musical numbers

The radio control

The tentacles- have I mentioned that before?

The rivalry with Lucifer

Maybe he replaces Alastor entirely. No Alastor. Only Adam. It's always been Adam.

Thanks for coming to my tedtalk.

Only Adam lol This is good! His Husk and Nifty could be Lute and Peter.

He doesn't have to smile all the time does he?

Yessss, and he plays rock instead of jazz lol And yes of course there is a rivalry lol