#before it really makes anything in my brain I think

[yailtsv]

Secret - p.b

💌 Syn: Azzi’s younger sister dates one of their teammates behind Azzi’s back

»»— warnings: none i don’t think

»»— notes: i hate how this one turned out 🤠

»»— word count: 917

»»— pair: Paige x Fudd!Gfreader

“shhh we gotta be quiet” you tell paige after she knocked something off of your dresser when sneaking in

paige just ignores you and picks up what she dropped and then closed and locked your bedroom door - heading towards you.

you and azzi share a dorm together with caroline, carols asleep and azzi’s in her room doing homework, so what did you do? called your girlfriend to come over

but…said girlfriend has to sneak in because you both are hiding your relationship. azzi would not approve of your relationship and you both aren’t gonna ask your teammates to lie for you so you can be public around them, that’s just insane.

so that gets you to where you are right now - watching paige get clothes from the bottom drawer of your dresser, and then changing into those clothes

“movie and cuddles?” paige asked after putting the clothes she just took off, onto your desk chair for her to grab when she leaves

you nod, already getting in your bed and under the covers, making paige do the same

you both fell asleep watching the movie, all cuddled up together. but you both woke up to consistent knocking, only waking up fully when you heard azzi say through the door “alright fine i’m using the key” making both of you sit up startled, but before you could move and push paige into your closet the door had opened and in walked azzi.

you could see azzi’s facial expression change, you could tell when she put the scene in front of her together in her brain, you could also see the look of hurt and betrayal all across her face

“az-“ “no! do not say anything!” she tells you before turning to face paige “you’re sleeping with my sister? AFTER i told you she was off limits?”

paige doesn’t really know what to say. azzi’s right, she did tell paige that you were off limits - and has been telling her since paige and azzi first met - which was years ago. paige did follow through with that, up until last year.

she never showed she was attracted to you - she was even in denial with her feelings for you. she always treated you as a friend - a very close friend but a friend.

she never thought you and her would eventually become a thing, she always fully intended to keep you at arms length - so that azzi wouldn’t be mad at her.

she’s not really sure on the time stamp of when she accepted her feelings, but whenever it was, was one of the greatest days. the even better day, was when she finally decided to do something with her feelings - that’s the day you guys started dating.

you and her have been dating for a little over a year now. she thought you guys wouldn’t be caught this far along, and she was wrong, and she’s having a difficult time on swallowing this pill.

“az- i’m sorry” paige stutters out, kinda overwhelmed with this situation “YOU’RE sorry?! you can date anyone in the world, and you chose the ONE person that i said was off limits, and you’re sorry?!”

“azzi i’m an adult, i can date who i want to date.” you tell her, wanting this conversation to be over

“you’re also my little sister dating MY best friend.” azzi responded back, still mad about the situation “why are you making it sound like she’s not my friend too? we’re all teammates, we’re all friends, we didn’t tell you we were seeing each other because we knew you were gonna act like this.”

“act like what?! i told both of you that i didn’t want you guys to ever date each other and look what’s happening now! you guys couldn’t of just respected that wish? i don’t ask anything of either of you but the one thing i do, you go behind my back and do it any ways?”

“azzi that’s not fair-“ paige starts but got cut off “fair?! you wanna talk about being fair?” “if you would let me talk that would be great!” paige said after cutting azzi off

azzi stopped talking and crossed her arms over her chest looking at paige expectingly “go on”

“we both did what you asked. we ignored each other romantically until last year, we spent all of our time together since me and you met at arms length, we’ve done everything, and unexpectedly fell for each other in that time. we are both adults, we can both do what we want - and what we want is to be with each other. you can’t stop us from dating, we’ve respected your wish this whole time but you never say why we can’t date you just say to not date, and that’s not fair at all. if your gonna forbid us from doing something at least tell us why. and until you can come up with a good reason - we’re gonna continue seeing each other”

azzi just looks at paige, her arms still crossed over her chest “i love her” paige replied again after a few moments of silence

azzi doesn’t say anything but after a few seconds walks out the door and back to her room. you and paige both make eye contact before sighing out loud

🏷️ @melpthatsme @rebecca-woso @authentic-girl03 @ldapper

requested on wattpad

[kanmom51]

Chapter 3 in the making

Traveling together to "film a show" was big (yes, this was to film a show, but we all know it was mainly to spend much needed time together, and if we didn't, let's be honest that we did, but if we didn't, then JK literally confirmed this for us in episode 1 of AYS). But back in 2023 when a public Jikook was a scarcity, left us with more question marks than anything else as to how this will actually be coming to fruition.

Enlisting together was HUGE. Like H U G E. Them being the only ones to do so not only within BTS but the first and only idols to do so. A choice made by the two of them. To do this together. With each other. Not with anyone else.

Are You Sure?! Do we need any words here? Like really? Because AYS was as loud as F$@&. No, seriously, idk what you want to call it, a soft launch, a smack in the noggin, whatever you do, it was quite clear to those who have eyes and a brain. With or without knowing who JM and JK are, their history, their culture. Louder to those who do know them.

Since their enlistment and even through Muse and AYS we got practically nothing from the two. Oh, we did have a couple of interesting pics from their basic training and graduation, a few pics from the unit, a shit ton of signatures, some more interesting than others (joint messages, pretty decorations...) and a few nice messages, but mostly silence from the two. This stood out even more so in comparison to the almost barrage we've been getting from NJ and Tae, both enlisted only a day before Jikook.

And then came December. With less than 6 months to go.

JK going live from his new place. Dare I say their new place? It's not like we haven't talked about this over the past 18 months. Speculating, wondering. But man (figure of speech y'all), these last couple of months, they are sure making me feel like what we saw as leaning to the delusional side or more so wishful thinking, ain't no delusion or wish, but more so a very possible reality to come.

But let's get back on track.

So, December gave us:

"We spend our free time together", "we sing together", "we sing while we shower daily together", not to mention JK's btw remark about seeking privacy away from others "to sing".

Then came JM in January with their "conversations before going bed" about "what kind of image we want to show" and "what kind of lives we will live moving forward".

And February rolls in and we think that we will be back to their silent treatment, but JK comes to us with a heartfelt message (they really feel the end and want out). But nothing prepared us for Hobi's birthday live and once again those two with their "we share a room" and "we have stories to tell, but not sure how much we actually can..." that won't scare us off, lol.

Funny how every single hysterical claim made by those who were hit so very hard by their joint enlistment has been shut down by the two of them by now!!

Anyway, do we see a pattern here? Can we call this a pattern? Is there more to come? Well, obviously there is post military service, but seeing as to how they have been in the past couple of months, I'm thinking that we will be getting more even before that.

I'm guessing that conclusion isn't a far fetched one, seeing what we got last night.

And OMG, that was another HUGE loud af Jikook statement.

Ribbon on right: "I love you 🖤"

Ribbon on left: "BTS Park Jimin and Jeon Jungkook".

Yes, a statement.

I stand by that.

Because even if you don't think it's anymore than a cute thing, just another thing that Jikook do together, then you are not seeing the cultural context here.

So, several content producers/directors that were Hybe employees (directors of I am still, AYS and JM's production diary amongst others) have left the company to open their own company (Idk too much about the company they opened, but my guess is that they will continue working with Hybe as contractors rather than employees, but also allowing them to work with other companies and create their own content, including producing a new boy band). And they posted the congratulation they have received.

From Hobi.

Hoshi and Woonhoo of Seventeen.

Each sending a separate wreath.

Zico

And there are wreaths they received from more than one sender. Joint wreaths. But this was from companies (joint ceos), or business partners. Not two separate idols or people.

Now, if you don't see what's huge here, let me show you the K side of this to maybe get some perspective (although, let's be honest, you don't need to be on the K side to see this is a couple thing).

Yes, I wonder the same thing!!!

There is more.

So much more.

The K side of things is literally going mad. Good mad.

And there is a reason they are.

This is most definitley not something friends, as close as they might be, would do. Not friends, not multimillionaire friends. They most definitley can afford two wreaths. And that's one of the points here.

Once again.

This was a choice.

Not to send separate congratulative wreaths. They sure can afford to do so. Even if they aren't on vacation at the moment and are in the base. Seriously, two young men closing in on their 30s, independently financially sufficient and so much more.

Yeah, this most definitley was a statement.

And the frenzy K Jikookers are in at this very moment is well enough proof to that.

Btw, haven't been to the dark side, don't know just how crazy and rabid the cult and antiis are going, but my guess would be...

Anyways, sitting here smile plastered on my face, I'm kind of starting to think, that this is maybe, just maybe, going to become our new normal. Jikook doing couplie things, openly, proudly, unapologetically.

And if this is them even before they are discharged...

What a great time this is going to be.

[bywons]

𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐒𝐎𝐍 𖥔 PSH

𝖠𝖢𝖳𝗢𝗡𝗘────𝗌𝗎𝗇𝗀𝗁𝗈𝗈𝗇, 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗅𝗈𝗌𝗍 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗉𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺 𝗏𝗂𝗌𝗂𝗍

【 𝒪𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐀 】 𝓁 ’───𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗄 𝗌𝗎𝗇𝗀𝗁𝗈𝗈𝗇 𝗑 𝖿!𝗋 𝟏𝟒𝟏𝟑𝗐 ｡ 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗂𝗅𝗅𝖾𝗋 ❛ �� ❜ 𝑐𝑎𝑢𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠 𝗄𝗂𝗌��𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉 𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇—𝗆𝗎𝗋𝖽𝖾𝗋

스루 ܃ make sure to read until the end, & share your thoughts with me ! i hope ya'll will enjoy this :3

reb𝑙ogs ◇ 𝑓eedbacks 𝗉𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗌𝖾

park sunghoon disappeared from plain sight three years ago.

the boy you once loved so much, you would give him your heart and he was ready to give his. through shared kisses and intoxicating touches that sent a bolt of thunder through your bodies, you grew to love him even more.

and now you ache for him, your heart could never belong to anyone but park sunghoon. for the past three years, you have seen plenty of faces— even some so striking that you would consider dating them, if your heart hadn't belonged to sunghoon. you searched among the crowd of faces with an expecting heart to see his face popping up, but you had failed to see him anywhere.

so naturally, when one day your phone buzzes up at an unusual hour from an unknown number, claiming to be park sunghoon, you thought it was an awful prank. at first, you thought your eyes were deceiving you, a cruel trick of exhaustion or longing.

until something convinced you.

i don’t have much to explain, rose. i just want to see you.

he always called you by rose, your favourite flower.

i miss you, don’t know if you miss me.

god, you miss him more than anything.

you don’t want to invite him over, to let him see your vulnerable side. but you’re already so broken without him, and you take it as a sign from above— park sunghoon will finally be yours again.

the doorbell buzzes louder, and you realise you fell asleep on the couch while waiting for him, the news acting as a serenade in the background.

you hesitate. every rational part of your brain screams at you to leave it alone—to call someone, to ignore it, to do anything but walk towards the door. and yet, your feet move of their own accord, drawn forward by a force far stronger than fear.

the moment you unlock the door, a gust of cool night air rushes in, and there he stands.

park sunghoon.

exactly as you remember him. and yet—different.

he doesn’t say anything off the bat, and just stands there, staring at you with an emotion you can’t really figure out. your throat runs dry, before you step aside to let him in.

“—the city remains silent after the dreadful incident along the alley of the infamous club. the victims’ body is yet to be handed over to autopsy, but witnesses state, quote, it’s unbearable to stand such a sight—”

he sits down quietly before you on the couch. sunghoon watches you, the dim glow from the tv casting shadows across his face. his fingers tap idly against his knee, a familiar habit.

“so, you won’t ask me how i’ve been?” he finally says something, his dark locks of hair falling over his face just like old times. he looks exactly the same.

“should i?” you dig your nails into your palms, “would you even answer?”

his lips twitch, but he doesn’t deny it. Instead, he leans forward, elbows resting on his knees as his gaze locks onto yours. “i missed you.”

“you left without nothing,” you finally push out the words you’ve been wanting to say, “d-did you ever think about me?” your voice cracks.

sunghoon visibly gulps, a shadow of guilt taking over his features. he pushes himself closer to you, “you’re all that i think about, rose. you’re my love, i love you—”

“oh, save it,” you spit, your eyes welling up with frustrated tears. you just couldn’t take the man's crap talk after three whole years, “you don’t care about me, you never did! sunghoon you just disappeared and decided to come back after so long without a word—”

“i know, i can—”

“where were you, sunghoon?” your voice shakes. “i—i thought you were dead.”

his eyes flicker with something unreadable. “i can’t explain it. not yet.”

“not yet?” you let out a hollow laugh. “three years, and you can’t even give me a reason?”

he inches closer, closing the space between you. his fingers brush your cheek—chilling, familiar, and devastating. “i didn’t want to leave you,” he murmurs. “i had no choice.”

faces close, you search for something in his eyes,

your breath is unsteady, the weight of his gaze pressing down on you like a force you can’t fight. his words should anger you. they should send you into a fit of rage, make you shove him away, make you scream at him for leaving you in the dark all this time.

but his touch, his voice, his mere presence is enough to crumble all the walls you built over the past three years.

“you had no choice?” you repeat, your voice dripping with disbelief. “then tell me, sunghoon. what was so important that you had to disappear without a trace? that you had to make me think i lost you forever?”

he exhales sharply, jaw clenching. his fingers ghost down your arm, almost as if testing if you’ll flinch away. you don’t.

“rose, i—” he hesitates, his eyes flickering with something you can’t quite place. “i want to tell you. but not yet.”

not yet. again.

you let out a dry laugh, shaking your head. “you always do this. keep me in the dark. make me feel like a fool for loving you.” your voice cracks at the last part.

his eyes darken. “you were never a fool for loving me.”

there’s just silence between the two of you again, the slow squeaking of the ceiling fan and the buzz from the news playing on the tv trying to fill it in.

“—hold on, i’m getting a call, hope this is an important source. heeseung you better not stop recording, we’re going to make big news—”

“then-” you hiccup, his cold touch along your forearm making you lose your eyes, “then prove it?”

“anything for you,” sunghoon whispers before he pushes his lips on yours, making your back crash into the couch. his featherlight touches on your skin, and you hiccup yet again. sunghoon clearly giggles into the kiss, his hands brushing off the hair from your face as his lips stay on yours.

the kiss is slow at first, almost hesitant before it turns into a need. you let him push your back completely against the couch, be on top of you. his fingers tangle in your hair, his touch igniting something primal in you. when his lips part from yours, he trails kisses down your jaw, your throat, sending shivers through your body.

“rose, i missed you,” he murmurs against your skin. “you’re mine, aren’t you?”

you giggle at his words, head turning towards the low humming tv as sunghoon continues loving you.

“—now reporting live from the crime scene, yet another body with similar m.o has been discov—”

you try not to pay much attention to the news, and focus on your lover, who’s busy pressing kisses on your face. he murmurs sweet nothings into your ear, reminding you of old times.

his breath is warm against your skin, his lips parting as he hovers over the pulse point at your neck. your heartbeat pounds beneath his touch, and for a brief moment, you think he hesitates.

then— a sharp gasp leaves your lips as his teeth barely graze your skin.

something about it feels wrong.

too sharp. too precise.

a sudden flash from the television catches your attention.

“—newfound horror. the victims were found with two puncture wounds on their neck… eerily similar to cases seen in vampire folklore—”

your blood runs cold as realisation settles in, you slowly push sunghoon back by his muscular shoulders, just right enough to glimpse at his eyes.

he refuses to look directly at you, maybe because he already predicted your reaction to this, or maybe he is looking at you— you simply cannot register anything as your blood runs cold.

sunghoons eyes glow red in the dark, white and sharp fangs baring out. his neck and face looks paler than ever, as if he's painted white.

you just lay there, shaken in fear, unable to do anything on your own but whimper his name. he coos at you, leaning down towards your neck.

“don’t worry, y/n,” he whispers, kissing the crook of your neck once more, “i love you, you won’t end up like them.”

the channel roars.

“—the polices’ advice is to stay indoors as often as possible, and immediately file a report if you come across suspicious activities—”

© BYWONS, 2025 / do not copy or repost without permission

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[covenofagatha]

The psychology of love (Part 3)

Your first date with Morgan and a lesson in defense mechanisms and the delay of gratification

Word count: 4.1k

Warnings: none yet, slowburn

Morgan and you go out to dinner the next day. You had seriously been considering just never texting her and making more of an effort to avoid her, but Wanda and Nat pestered you continuously during breakfast until you had given in. 

Turns out, you were both free that night. 

You had a class in the evening, so you meet her at the pizza place off-campus after. She’s wearing a light blue dress that brings out the color in her eyes and her Black Opium perfume makes you wish there was someone different sitting in front of you. 

“Did you have a good day?” she asks while you’re waiting for your pizzas to be done cooking. The awkwardness of a first date is hanging over you, coupled with the fact that her fingers were inside you on Monday. You’re still a little shocked that happened. 

But you nod and smile. Morgan is nice, and she’s trying. The least you could do is try as well. “Yeah, I had two classes. They’re both pretty easy. My hardest are definitely Physiological Psych and Personality Psych.” 

Even the mention of the latter makes your stomach clench. Agatha has wormed her way into your brain and you don’t know how to get her out. The perfume you ordered should be here tomorrow and you regret buying it. 

Realistically, what are you going to do with it? You can’t wear it—both Morgan and Agatha will pick up on it. It’d be absolutely pathetic to spray your pillow with it and imagine it’s Agatha next to you, plus Wanda would surely wonder about that. 

Which means you spent one-hundred dollars on a bottle of perfume that’s going to sit on your desk and serve as a reminder that you’re delusional. 

A waitress brings over your personal pizzas and sets them down in front of you, steam billowing off. 

Morgan’s looking at you, a little expectantly, and you clear your throat. “How was your day?” you ask, realizing that you never returned the question.

“Pretty good, thanks. I had an International Relations class. We already have a quiz next Tuesday, which is crazy considering this was our second day of meeting.” You learned that she’s a Political Science major while you were waiting in line for pizza. 

She doesn’t say anything else, so you chew on your lip and try to think of ways to get the conversation going. “So…how did you get into political science?” At least her face brightens at that. 

“My dad works in local government and I’ve always been really interested in it. I’ve interned at his office since I was probably sixteen? I’ll be able to get a job with him once I graduate and then hopefully I can be elected for something,” she says before launching into a few stories about town halls that she’s been a part of. She’s from a small town in Indiana and the people there are apparently a little unhinged.

Morgan’s just telling you about a petition one man started to make his birthday a town holiday when the door to the restaurant opens and a familiar face walks in. 

It’s Agatha’s standoffish TA. Morgan is still talking but your eyes follow Rio as she walks up to the counter and shows them her phone. The lady nods and picks up a boxed pizza that’s sitting next to her and hands it to Rio. 

As she’s walking to the exit, she tilts her head over to you like she feels you staring. You quickly look away but in your periphery, you can see her coming closer until you have no choice but to crane your neck up at her. 

“You’re in Professor Harkness’s class, aren’t you?” Rio asks, but it’s more of a statement than a question. She obviously remembers you from Agatha’s office yesterday. 

You nod and she chuckles amusedly, tongue bulging in her cheek. Her complete one-eighty of a personality change is throwing you off. 

Rio glances at Morgan and then back to you, a gleam in her eyes. “Good luck.” Before you can ask what she means—is she talking about Agatha’s class? talking about Morgan?—she shifts the pizza in her arms and strolls out the door without looking back. 

Morgan raises an eyebrow at you. “That was weird.” 

You choose to not say anything and take a bite of your pizza, instantly wincing when it burns your mouth. “Did the man get his petition approved?” you refer to what she had been talking about before Rio, and Morgan dives back into that memory. 

She talks for most of dinner, only really taking a break while she’s eating, and then you walk her to her car. Thankfully, neither of you wants to hang out in the resultant once you’re both done with your food. She’s parked right in front whereas you had to find a spot in the garage behind the row of restaurants. 

“Do you want me to give you a ride to your car?” Morgan offers and you pretend to think about it before shaking your head. 

“No, that’s okay. It’s not very far.” There’s a minute of silent shuffling while you both try to figure out how to end the date. “Um, well I had a great time with you tonight. Let’s do this again soon?” 

She smiles warmly. “I’d love that.” And then Morgan leans in to press a quick kiss to your cheek before getting in her car. Her perfume drifts into your nostrils and lingers and you hear Agatha’s voice telling you that you did very good. Heat flashes through you but you tamp it down. 

You wait until Morgan drives off before turning to head to the parking garage, but you see another person that you know in the shadows. 

Professor Harkness. 

Your heart lurches as she pushes off the building wall she was leaning against and steps into the light. She’s wearing blue pants and a matching blazer over a black turtleneck. The gold from her necklace catches the streetlamp glow. Her long, loose hair frames her face and you can see her blue eyes glinting even in the dark.

Swallowing roughly, you irrationally worry that she’s going to be mad about you and Morgan. A part of you wants her to be mad. 

But she just smirks instead. “Dinner with a friend?” 

“Something like that,” you mutter, shrugging inconspicuously. “What are you doing here?” It seems like she’s waiting for someone—a date? Not that it matters, of course. You just want insight into your mysterious teacher. 

She moves closer to you, close enough so you can smell her perfume. It’s getting really fucking confusing with both Agatha and Morgan wearing the same scent. “I’m just picking up dinner,” she hums. “Nothing as exciting as you.” 

Your cheeks burn. “That wasn’t anything, just a first date. We met at a party a few days ago.” When I let her fuck me because she reminded me of you.

Agatha nods like she knows something you don’t. “Do you remember learning about defense mechanisms?” 

“What?” 

“In a general psych class, did you ever learn about defense mechanisms? Freudian methodology, of course, that believes our ego unconsciously wants to protect the superego from the id when we do something that would otherwise cause us anxiety, guilt, and shame.” 

“I mean, yeah?” You’ve heard of them, but why is she bringing them up? 

She waves a hand at your apparent confusion. “We’ll get more into them later in the semester. I just think it’s neat, you know? How we can be doing something and not even be aware that we’re doing it. Denial, rationalization,” she fixes you with a pointed look, “transference. The mind does really work in interesting ways.” 

You nod and bite your nails, not sure what to say. It feels like you’re missing something by a mile.

But Agatha just smiles. “See you tomorrow in class, hon.” She winks before leaving you outside and you slowly trudge back to your car, completely dumbfounded. 

Once you get back to your dorm, the conversation with Agatha still fresh in your mind, you halfheartedly return Wanda’s greeting and take out your computer and type “transference” into Google. 

Transference is the psychological phenomenon where someone redirects feelings from one person onto another. It occurs when someone unconsciously projects feelings or desires onto someone else. 

“Holy shit,” you say out loud, your blood running cold. Wanda’s head turns toward you but it’s like you have tunnel vision. 

Was Agatha implying that you going out with Morgan is you redirecting your feelings toward your professor onto someone who looks like her? 

Your heart is thumping so loud you can hear it. Are you being that obvious to Agatha? Can she tell that you have a crush on her? 

As if to make matters worse, you get an email notification saying that a package has been delivered—the perfume. A whole day early, like the universe wants to prove its point. 

You let it sit in the delivery room all night because you don’t trust yourself not to go crazy if you smell it right now. 

But you barely get any sleep at all just thinking about it. 

The next morning, Wanda and Nat interrogate you at breakfast. You had told Wanda the general basics of how the date had gone last night, but now they’re pressing you for the details, which you reluctantly give. 

“It was good, she spent a lot of time talking about interning for her town’s government. She’s a Poli-Sci major—” Nat scoffs and rolls her eyes and Wanda laughs, “—and apparently her dad is like the mayor or a council member? I don’t know, I mean, she’s nice and all…” 

“Oh, come on,” Wanda says, fond exasperation staining her voice. “You always do this. You meet a great girl and then you decide that she’s boring or that you don’t really like her or you make one tiny thing of their personality into a big problem. Why can’t you just let yourself have something?” 

It stings how well she knows you. “I just…I don’t know…I’m just not sure we’d work that well together. And it doesn’t really make sense to get into a relationship now, does it? We’re graduating in the spring so why start something new if we’re going to end up in different places? She wants to go back to Indiana and I’ll probably stay here or go back home, so it just doesn’t seem like there’s much of a point.” 

Nat looks unimpressed. “Really? That’s your excuse for why you’re going to self-sabotage? If only long-distance was a thing, god.” 

Wanda pats her girlfriend’s hand and stifles a smirk at the sarcasm. “Just because it’s not going to end in marriage doesn’t mean it’s not worth it,” she says gently. “Why not go on a few more dates, just to see what happens? And who knows? She could be worth it.” 

It won’t work because she’s not at least twice my age. Except you can’t exactly tell your friends that. So instead you say, “Yeah, maybe.” 

“Even if it’s not a relationship, it could be a friends-with-benefits situation,” Natasha adds and Wanda snorts. “You’ve already had sex with her so you already know what you’d be getting into.” 

“Okay, okay,” you grimace at her crassness and push your chair back. “I have to get to class.” 

You have about twenty minutes before it starts, so you’re not in a rush, but you need the walk to clear your head and mentally prepare for seeing Agatha. The quip about transference has you still reeling and it’s only the third day of this class but it’s already the second time you’ve been nervous to look at her. You’re not sure you can get in trouble for having a crush on a teacher but you certainly don’t want Agatha being uncomfortable around you.

So you’ll keep your distance. You’ll go to class and take notes and answer questions, but you’ll leave right after. You won’t let her praise affect you and you will definitely not get close enough to smell her perfume that makes your cunt pulse. 

Practically everything you were just thinking goes out the window when you walk into class and see her standing at the front of the room. 

Agatha’s wearing another turtleneck, white this time, under a tan blazer and matching pants. You wonder if she’s been wearing them to hide hickeys on her neck—but then you remind yourself that you don’t care, despite the growing feeling of jealousy in your stomach from your absolutely baseless speculations. 

She smiles at you, something dark hidden behind her pink lips, and you shiver as you sit down. Does she know what she does to you? The praises, the projection tests from Wednesday, the way she looks at you? 

She seems to like you more than the other students in the class—is that just because you answer questions? Does she encourage you for that because she needs someone to? You’ve had classes where absolutely no one would talk and it was awful. Her praising you for that could just be her way of making sure there’s not an awkward silence. 

But it feels direct, pointed even. Like she wants it to be you.

Or is that just you hoping? 

Agatha isn’t the first teacher you’ve had a crush on, not by a long shot. There was the English teacher when you were in eighth grade. She wasn’t even your teacher, but you still found excuses to talk to her. There was your ninth grade Biology teacher, and then you took her Environmental Science class senior year just to have her again. Your Developmental Psychology professor from the spring semester of your first year in college. You’re sure there’s more. Each time, though, you were certain that you were special. 

Each time, you were sorely disappointed, but not surprised. 

You want to say that it feels different with Agatha, but you need to get a grip on yourself. 

She’s in her late forties, at least. She might have a partner. You glance at her hands as she’s typing something on the computer. No ring. That doesn’t mean anything, you tell yourself. 

But she could get in serious trouble for sleeping with a student. If everything else worked out, if all the other stars aligned and by some way, she did want you, she’d never risk her job over that. She has two doctorates and has published multiple articles about her research, which you’ve been meaning to read, and has won several awards for her work. She’s devoted her whole life to psychology and you are not going to change that. 

Agatha may tease, but at the end of the day, you feel confident that she will never be anything but professional, which means that you really need to get over this. 

“Okay, getting back into Trait Theory,” Agatha starts and you scramble for your notebook. She clicks present on the slideshow and you begin scribbling down everything typed on the first slide. “Theorists who approach personality through the Trait approach want to know what exactly traits are and what they do. Do they describe how we behave? Are they a sum of all we’ve learned? Do they reflect underlying personality? Are they the building blocks of our personality?” 

You chew on the tip of your pen and Agatha’s eyes flick to you with a glint in them. Her lips twitch up and you freeze. 

“The problem with traits is that people are inconsistent. We act one way when we’re by ourselves and a different way when we’re with friends versus family versus professors versus romantic partners. So do situations predict behavior more than personality traits?” 

Agatha surveys the classroom expectantly so you hesitantly raise your hand, wheels turning in your head trying to think of a sophisticated response. She smirks and nods at you. “I mean, I think situations obviously have some part in how we act, but it’s not like we’re completely different people based on who we’re interacting with. It could be kind of like, what traits do we use more of when we’re with some people and what traits do we use less of?” 

Her brows furrow and you can see her mulling it over. “So you’re saying that we have a bank of traits, of consistent traits, but which ones we tap into depends on who we’re with?” 

“Yes?” Your voice wavers but you hold eye contact with her. 

Agatha hums thoughtfully. “Very good. I like that.” Your cheeks flush and you duck your head, the eye contact becoming too intense. “And it brings us to an interesting thought. I want everyone to write down how you consider yourself personality-wise. And then write down some traits you’d use to describe your best friends.” 

You write some general words down for you and then for Wanda and Nat. It’s hard to sum someone’s personality up like that. Glancing around the room, you see everyone’s still working so you pick at your nails and pretend that you don’t feel Agatha staring at you. 

The compulsion grows too great in you, though, so you look at her. She doesn’t seem abashed that you caught her—if anything, she looks excited. You swallow roughly to get some moisture into your suddenly-dry mouth and your teeth sink into your bottom lip. Her eyelashes flutter, maybe just enough to be considered a wink, but then someone coughs and the moment is broken. 

Agatha clears her throat. “Take a look at what words you wrote for yourself and then compare them to the words you wrote for your friends. Chances are, there’s a good amount of overlap. Opposites attract sometimes, but it’s more often than not that we choose to surround ourselves with people that have similar personalities to us. If we do that, then our traits might be influencing the situations that we’re in, which influences our behavior. It’s a lot to think about.”

She clicks to the next slide. 

“Psychologists have found that both situations and traits influence behavior about equally after conducting some experiments that we’ll look at another time. Now,” she turns off the projection and the screen at the front of the room goes dark. Everyone looks at her. “I want to talk to you about an opportunity for next week.” 

Someone out of the corner of your eye perks up. “Extra credit?”

Agatha shoots him down with a glare. “It’s the third class of the semester, first of all. Second of all, there will be no extra credit in this course.” 

He slumps down, defeated. You think he might be the same person from the first day who was upset about only having five grades. 

“We will have a speaker on campus next Tuesday evening at six pm giving a presentation on fallacies from famous psychological experiments. I’ll be sending out more information about it, but I think it will be very interesting, especially for this class. It’s optional, but I do heavily recommend attending.” 

You raise your hand and she smiles. “What studies are they going to look at?” 

“Excellent question. The presentation will look at the Rosenthal study on expectancy effects, the Stanford Prison Experiment, among a few others, and one of my personal favorites: the study on delay of gratification.” 

“Is that the one—” a girl begins to say before Agatha interrupts her like she didn’t even hear the student. 

“Mischel and Ebbesen would call kids into a room one-by-one and tell them that they could either have a small candy bar right away, or wait some unknown amount of time for a larger candy bar. The researchers would leave the room and see what the kids would do.” Her blue eyes pierce into you and her face morphs into something almost predatory. “Is it better to get instant relief for something small, or to wait and let the anticipation build up for a better reward?” 

She prompts you with a tilt of her head and you wonder if she can see the slight sheen of sweat breaking out on your forehead. “If it’s going to be worth it to wait,” you rasp. 

Agatha licks her lips before nodding slowly and then settles back into her casual demeanor. “I mean, who doesn’t want a bigger candy bar?” she jokes and there’s a titter throughout the room. She gives you a smug smile and you face forward, cheeks burning. 

She continues talking but you’ve completely zoned out. You feel like a kid in the experiment—have something with Morgan, real but fleeting, or wait for even the possibility of Agatha? Once you’re not her student anymore, there shouldn’t be a problem. And you graduate in the spring anyway. 

But that’s if Agatha would even like you back then. 

What happens if the researcher never comes back with the big candy bar after the kid waits forever? 

She finally wraps up class, saying that she needs to rush off to a meeting and you slowly pack up your bag just in case she lingers. She may be in a hurry, but it’s nothing compared to the other students and it’s only a minute before you and her are the only ones left in the room. 

The air feels thick with electricity and tension and it’s like you’re rooted to your seat when she starts to slowly walk toward you. You can feel your heartbeat increase and your breathing quickens—your body wants to run but it can’t. 

“Great job today,” she mumbles and drums her fingertips atop your desk surface, her perfume rolling over you like a wave, and you don’t even realize that she’s gone until you hear the door shut behind you. 

You shakily stand up and swing your bag onto your shoulders and go to the library, desperately trying to ignore the heat between your legs.

After dinner, you pick up the package containing the perfume on your way back to your dorm. You’re almost afraid to open and smell it because you know your body will betray your mind. Your cunt has become conditioned to the scent—conditioned to Agatha—and you really need to figure out how to stop it. You’d throw out the bottle entirely if you hadn’t spent so much money on it. You’ll find some use for it, maybe for a party or something. 

Just as you get into your room, your phone buzzes with an email. Your heart starts to race when you see Agatha Harkness at the top of it and you quickly click on it. 

To your dismay, it’s just a course email. 

Hello Personality Psych, 

Here is the link for information concerning the speaker presentation next Tuesday evening that I mentioned in class. As a reminder, you will not receive any extra credit for attending, but it is an opportunity to learn more about flaws in renowned psychological experiments. Please email me if you are interested so I can get your name on the list. 

Best, 

Professor Harkness

You chew on your lip. It’s not something that you necessarily want to go to, and for no extra credit, it might be a waste of time. 

But you do seriously doubt that anyone else in your class is going to go, which would make you stand out to Agatha. 

You imagine walking into a room full of people you don’t know, anxiously scanning the crowd, to find her smiling at you and beckoning for you to go sit next to her. She’d lean in to whisper some remarks about the speaker into your ear and her hair would tickle your skin. Maybe you’d be bouncing your leg because of your trouble sitting still and she’d put a hand on your thigh to help you focus. 

Fuck. Your cheeks are burning now and the temptation to open the perfume so it feels like she’s there is gnawing strongly inside you. 

Instead, you compose a new email. 

Hi Professor Harkness, 

I would love to attend the presentation.

Thanks! 

You sign it off with your name and hit send before you can rethink it and then throw your phone to the end of the bed. 

The moment you press your hands to your face because you can’t believe how bad this is getting, your phone vibrates. You know what it’s going to be before you even look at it, and yet you’re still surprised to find that Agatha responded almost immediately. 

I’m very glad to hear that and I look forward to seeing you there. 

Professor Harkness. 

Only this time, instead of the regular email signature under her name, and every other professor’s name in their emails, that shows her position, the university name, and her email address, there’s something else as well. 

Ten digits. Your breath catches in her throat. 

She added her phone number. 

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[worstgenerationloser]

Could you please do ace, shanks and benn defending their f s/o from a misogynistic man? I had to face one at work and he gave me the absolute ICK

,, Rushing to your aid! ''

Ace, Shanks, and Beckman x F! Reader.

Summary... how would your boyfriend defend you from a misogynistic man?

Contains... misogyny, mentions of harassment, depictions of bloody violence, and some slight fluff!

A/N: IM SORRY YOU HAD TO DEAL WITH THAT ANON💕 I hope since you sent in this ask the men have left you alone! If not I'll ward them away myself!! 🤺🤺

Portgas D. Ace

Ace doesn't register it completely, so at first he's confused on why this man is talking to you as if you were a baby (mostly because he's a dumbass)

Now, even if he wasn't aware the man was being misogynistic at first, he's still rushing towards you because there's literally a weird man talking to you the way you would to a little kid, and you definitely looked angry enough to tear off his head.

"Woah, what's happening here?" Instinctively and natural as breathing, his arm slips around your shoulders and his fingers move to gently graze your arm in an attempt to console you.

He doesn't like showing his temper much, but when people precious to him are involved, his angry heart bursts into flames. When the man speaks, his jaw drops out of pure disbelief. According to him, he was mansplaining how pirates operate to you. Which is weird, because Ace knows that you're definitely well versed in pirates... Considering you're his girlfriend.

He wanted to diffuse the situation, but it seems like this random needed a reality check.

"Hm... Good to know, but I'm sure it's irrelevant to her." His smile is wide and joyous, but the ominous shadow looming over his face is anything but.

"But she's clueless!", the man rambles on and bumbles about like a headless chicken, before he turns back to get one good look at Ace. Then it clicks in his pea-sized brain that maybe you know a bit more about pirates than him.

Ace looks a little scary when he's mad, you discover . But mostly cute.

"My girlfriend doesn't need to explain her knowledge to some random asshole who couldn't make a lasting impact on her life if he tried, you're way below her, buddy."

With gritted teeth, Ace tries to not light fire to the whole town, but only you seem to notice his body is literally smoking hot.

According to Ace, the guy ran a little too slow, and that's how he ended up naked covered in burn marks! The marines didn't believe him, though, and you two were left to flee.

"Can you believe the balls on that guy? It's not like you're unknown, either. Portgas D. Ace's kickass girlfriend! It's got a nice ring to it, eh?"

He nudges you a little too hard and sends you flying into a bush, but you appreciate the cute moments with him no matter how brief.

Red-Haired Shanks

Shanks learned many things during his time in the Roger Pirates, but one thing really stuck with him throughout the years. He can tolerate being spat on and kicked around, if his crew sees it as a threat then he's not gonna stop them from doing whatever it is they're planning, but he's not gonna ask them to go out of their way to deal with it.

But when someone disrespects his crew, and especially you?

Oh, he's pissed.

You think he doesn't realize at first, but he's keeping a very close eye on you two. He tries to keep his ass planted firmly into his chair per Beckman's request. Beckman is the mature one, and he's almost never wrong in the astute observations he makes. Despite this, Shanks has no self control and he's lobbing himself towards the bar where you sit.

Beckman shakes his head disapprovingly at his captain, because unlike him, Beck knows you can handle yourself.

The man in question harassing you seems to be a small time criminal with a bounty of 50,000... That doesn't deter Shanks, it might have egged him on even more because who does he think he is harassing you?

By the time Shanks has made his way to you, your harasser seems to have taken it upon himself to demean you for your appearance, pulling out all the classics like "bitch" "whore" , and "slut" to name a few. Shanks, of course, finds absolutely no amusement in this. I'm sure you can guess what happened next.

Your harasser tries to argue and degrade you a little more when Shanks steps up, not realizing how silent the bar has suddenly become. He didn't even realize the hundreds of eyes disappearing from him, not wanting to watch things unfold.

"You're drunk, I'll give you that one." Shanks barks out a laugh like he finds it funny, but up close you can see that gleam in his eyes.

Well... it's not like you could stop him anyways.

But you really wish he left the bar standing, at least. It certainly isn't doing good for his reputation as an emperor of the seas.

When Beckman scolds him as if he were a child on deck, he laughs like he'll forget about it in a day or two. But everyone knows Shanks will be doing it all over again in a heartbeat. He holds you extra close that night, trying to make sure your heart isn't tainted by the venomous words spat.

"I don't want anybody, big name or small, disrespecting people I hold dear to me."

His words are sweet while he whispers to you in bed... he's an odd man, but he's yours.

Benn Beckman

Two words. Broken. Bones.

Beckman does not play around with his girl, at all. He'll bash in heads day and night if someone even looks at you the wrong way, but he restrains himself because he's not a jealous young man anymore, so he likes to think.

Regarding everything else, he's cool as a cucumber, he prefers to let things wash over by themselves and only offers advice if he senses things will go astray. (as previously mentioned)

You're his girl, and a damn beautiful one, so he isn't surprised when some people try and scope you out, the same happens to him with many women, so why be so hypocritical about it? His heart is locked inside of yours for the rest of his life whether you want him or not, so he knows you won't run off with another no matter how much Shanks jokes about it.

If they're a little persistent, he might walk up to you and give you a few kisses so they get the message. But this man was definitely not "a little persistent."

Beck doesn't have a second to think of what he should do when he hears the utterances of vile comments slip from this man's mouth after you turned him down, because he's already right next to you quicker than his own head can wrap around. He's big, tall and scary, enough so to make someone shake with just a look.

"A grown man like yourself should know that ain't no way to talk to a lady." His voice is low, and he's talking nice and slow for your harassers ears only.

Beck heard it all, him hitting on you in an unceremonious way, all the way to demeaning you when you rejected him, spouting the same chewed up rhetoric that is "women are only good for bearing children" and whatnot. He can't let that pass no matter how capable you may be of handling it yourself.

"And what are you gonna do about it?" The man's words were proven to be a bad move before his lips could rest against eachother.

Following that, there was quite a sight. Somehow Beckman managed to twist the poor guy into some kind of abstract form of art, all bloody and fucked up with no more teeth left.

And of course he ushered you away after wiping his hands clean enough for you, because he's a gentleman, he didn't do it for himself, it was for you!

"M'sorry you had to see that, sugar." His whispers fill your head while he has you resting your head on his chest hours later, a few giggles coming from outside your bedroom door. Guess who?

"You know I won't let nobody disrespect you like that. You aren't mad, are you baby?" Beckman is a real sweet talker, so it's not like you could be even if you tried.

Plus, he looks super hot fighting.

END.

Likes and Reblogs are appreciated! ❤️If possible, leave a comment too!

[urno1luv]

all i can think about is ningning taking your virginity and making you her puppet, so i have to share it with u!!

like imagine being best friend with ningning and one day at sleepover she decides she wants to fuck you and she doesn’t know what to do so she randomly comes behind up and start massaging your boobs and you’re kind of confuse but it feels good and she’s like you like that? but you know you shouldn’t!! she’s your best friend after all, best friends don’t do that

then you confess to her you’re a virgin and she’s like i know babe but she still asks you if you can make her feel good so you try

then it leads to her fucking you with a strap!!

i hope you don't mind but i changed a little bit of the request bc i couldn’t write this, my brain was just not working👉👈kinda long

hot best friend ningning x oblivious reader

You'd had a hundred sleepovers with Ningning before — messy skincare routines, late-night snacks, and half-hearted movie marathons where you both ended up scrolling your phones instead. Tonight was supposed to be just like any other night.

Except... it wasn't.

Maybe it was how she'd been looking at you all evening — eyes lingering just a little too long, her playful teasing feeling heavier somehow. Or the way her fingers would brush your thigh under the blanket, pretending not to notice how your breath caught every time. You tried to tell yourself you were imagining it.

Ningning was your best friend. She'd always been touchy, always called you baby in that soft, sing-song voice. But when she suggested sharing the bed instead of setting up the couch like usual... something shifted. Now you're lying side by side in the dim light, both in oversized t-shirts and tiny shorts, bodies close under the blankets. Her perfume lingers between you — warm, sweet, dangerous.

"You tired?" she asks softly, her voice low, lazy. You shake your head, trying not to notice how her leg is pressed against yours. "No... not really."

There's a beat of silence.

You feel her shift, propping herself up on one elbow. When you glance at her, her eyes are already on you — darker than usual, half-lidded, like she's sizing you up.

"You always get so shy around me."

Your stomach flips. "I'm not—"

She cuts you off with a soft little laugh, fingers brushing over your bare thigh — just barely there, like she's testing how far she can push. "You are."

Her voice is quieter now, closer. "It's cute."

Your breath catches. You should pull away, crack a joke — anything to break whatever this is. But you don't.

You just lie there, heart pounding, heat pooling low in your stomach as her fingers trace slow circles against your skin. "You ever wonder what it would feel like?" she murmurs, leaning in so close her breath is warm against your lips. "What?"

Her eyes flick down to your mouth — then back up, lazy and deliberate.

"If I kissed you."

Your whole body goes still. You've never thought about Ningning like that... or maybe you have, but buried it so deep you forgot it was even there.

"I..."

She smiles — soft, teasing — like she knows exactly how flustered she's making you.

"You can tell me to stop." Her fingers slide higher, brushing just under the hem of your shorts. "But I don't think you want me to.

You don't. God, you don't.

"Ning..."

That's all you get out before her lips are on yours — slow, testing — like she's been holding back for way too long.

She tastes sweet, like the strawberry lip balm you borrowed earlier, her hand slipping under your shirt to rest against your waist. When she pulls back, her eyes flick between yours, waiting.

"You like when I'm soft with you, huh?" she whispers.

You nod, breathless.

Her lips brush your jaw, trailing lower — your neck, your collarbone — until you're tilting your head back without even thinking.

"But I could be so much meaner if you asked."

Her hand dips lower between your thighs, fingers brushing where you're already aching for her — barely there, just enough to make you gasp.

"You gonna let your best friend take care of you, baby?"

She's teasing, playing with you — but there's heat behind it, like she's been waiting for this moment longer than you'd ever realized.

You whimper — half nodding, half falling apart — and that's all the permission she needs.

Her fingers are still teasing between your thighs — featherlight touches that have your whole body trembling under the blanket. Ningning's smile is lazy, half-lidded, like she’s been waiting to get you like this for way too long.

"You always this quiet, baby?" she murmurs, lips brushing your jaw.

Your heart's pounding so hard you're sure she can feel it under her palm. You're dizzy — from the heat, from how close she is, from how good her hands feel without even really doing anything yet.

"I—" Your voice catches in your throat. You squeeze your legs together, trying to squirm away from her touch — but she just smiles, pressing her thigh between yours to keep you in place.

"You what?" she whispers, breath warm against your ear.

Your whole face burns. You've never felt like this before — not with anyone. Every brush of her fingers sends a fresh wave of heat pooling between your legs, but...

"I've never..."

You can't even finish the sentence.

Ningning freezes — just for a second — and then she laughs.

It's low, soft, teasing — like she just stumbled onto the best secret in the world.

"Oh my god..." she breathes, grinning down at you. "You're a virgin?"

You bite your lip, turning your face away — but she catches your chin between two fingers, making you look at her.

"Baby..." she coos, mock-sweet. "Were you just gonna let me ruin you without even telling me?"

You feel like you're going to die — but the worst part is how wet you are just from the sound of her voice.

"I didn't— I didn't think—"

"You didn't think I'd find out?" Her thumb brushes your bottom lip, smirking when you gasp. "Or you didn't think I'd like it?"

Your breath catches.

She likes it?

Her eyes flick down your body — to where you're squirming under her, thighs clenched tight around her leg — then back up to your face.

"Oh, baby..." she purrs. "You're so cute."

Her fingers slide higher, slipping under your shorts — still not touching where you want her, just teasing along the inside of your thigh.

"You want me to be gentle with you?"

You should nod. You should say yes. But the way she's looking at you — like she wants to devour you — makes your whole body ache.

You shake your head, breathless.

Ningning's smirk deepens.

"Didn't think so."

Her fingers brush over your soaked panties, and you gasp — hips bucking up into her hand without even meaning to. She watches every little twitch, every shaky breath, like she's studying you.

"You've been thinking about this, haven't you?" she murmurs. "Letting your best friend touch you like this... even if you didn't wanna admit it.

You whimper — and that's all the answer she needs.

"Don't worry, baby..." she coos, finally slipping her fingers beneath the fabric. "I'll be gentle..."

Her lips brush your ear — voice dropping lower —

"...at first."

You're gone. Completely. All those years of friendship, every line you thought you'd never cross — they're already ruined under her hands, and she's only just getting started.

Her hand drifts lower under the blanket, fingers brushing between your legs again — but this time, she doesn't tease. She cups you through your ruined panties, palm pressing down just enough to make your hips buck into her hand.

"You want me to stretch you out, baby?" she whispers against your lips. "Wanna feel what it's like to really get fucked?"

Your breath catches — and you don't even realize you're nodding until she's already smirking down at you like she owns you.

"Good girl."

You barely register her slipping out of bed — too dazed, too soaked between your thighs to do anything but watch as she opens her overnight bag and pulls out...

Oh.

You sit up on your elbows, eyes wide.

"Ning... you brought that to a sleepover?"

She flashes you a wicked little grin, the black strap-on hanging loose from her fingers.

"I was hoping you'd finally let me fuck you sooner or later."

Your whole body burns — but before you can even think of something smart to say, she's crawling back onto the bed, strapping the harness low on her hips like she's done it a million times before.

"You still want me to be gentle, baby?" she purrs, stroking the silicone along your thigh — not quite where you need it, just enough to make you squirm.

You bite your lip, eyes flicking between her face and the strap — heart pounding so hard you're sure she can hear it.

"...No."

Her smile curves slow and dangerous.

"That's what I thought."

She hooks her fingers under your shorts and panties, sliding them down your legs in one slow motion —Ningning freezes — just for a second — and then she laughs.

You're already soaked again, slick dripping down your thighs — and Ningning sees it. Her tongue flicks over her bottom lip, eyes locked on your messy little cunt like she's ready to eat you alive.

"Fuck, baby... you're so wet for me."

You whimper — half embarrassed, half aching — but she just shushes you, leaning down to kiss your thigh.

"I'll make it feel good," she promises softly. "Gonna make you forget anyone else ever even touched you."

She lines the strap up between your legs, dragging the head through your slick folds — slow, teasing — just to watch you squirm.

"Look at you..." she murmurs, voice low and sweet. "All shy and innocent — and now you're about to let your best friend fuck you."

You gasp, clutching at the sheets as the tip nudges against your entrance — stretching you open inch by inch, so slow it hurts.

Ningning groans low under her breath, even though she can't feel it — like she's imagining how tight you are, how wet.

"You're so fucking tight, baby..." she breathes, hips rolling forward just a little deeper. "Relax... let me in."

You try — but she's so big, and it's so much — and she can feel you clenching around the strap, watching every little whimper that spills from your lips.

"You're taking me so well, baby..." she coos, kissing your cheek. "Such a good girl for me."

She doesn't stop until she's buried to the hilt — hips flush against yours, her breath hot against your neck.

You feel so full you're dizzy — stretched open and ruined on your best friend's cock, panting into her mouth as she starts to move.

Slow at first — gentle — just rocking her hips against yours while one hand slips between your thighs to rub soft little circles over your clit.

"That's it, baby... let me take care of you..."

You can't do anything but take it — legs wrapped around her waist, nails digging into her back as she fucks you into the mattress.

Every thrust makes you gasp — this slow, steady rhythm that has your body melting under her. "Does it feel good?" she whispers, biting at your jaw. "Is this what you've been waiting for?"

You nod, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes — so overwhelmed you can't even speak. Ningning loves it. "Poor baby..." she coos, pressing her thumb harder against your clit. "Gonna come for me again, huh? Gonna let your best friend fuck all those shy little noises out of you?"

You're already so close — hips grinding up into hers, breath catching with every slow, deep thrust. She leans in — lips brushing your ear —

"Come for me, baby... let me ruin you."

And you do — falling apart under her with a broken little cry, legs shaking around her waist as she fucks you through it. When it's over, she doesn't pull out right away — just holds you there, cock still buried deep, pressing soft kisses along your jaw.

"You did so good for me..." she murmurs, brushing sweaty hair out of your face.

"Such a pretty little slut."

You're still trembling when she finally pulls out — slick dripping down your thighs, body wrecked from the inside out.

But Ningning just smirks, pulling you close against her chest. "You want me to clean you up?" she whispers, trailing her fingers down your stomach.

"Or shall we find out how many times i can make you cum before the sun comes up?"

[blairxbear]

How they handle jealousy and would react to someone flirting with you

UA Part 1 / UA Part 2 / Pro Heroes / Villains

How will the guys at UA react handle their jealousy and react to someone else flirting with you?

Featuring: Katsuki Bakugo, Tamaki Amajiki, Hitoshi Shinso, Eijiro Kirishima, Mezo Shoji, Fumikage Tokoyami, Rikido Sato, Tetsutetsu Tetsutetsu

Katsuki Bakugo

Jealousy Level: 11/10 – Possessive, territorial, ready to throw hands.

Bakugo? Jealous? Oh, he’s furious the moment someone even looks at you for too long.

He immediately steps between you and the flirter, glaring daggers at them.

“The hell do you think you’re doing talking to MY partner?”

His arm wraps around your waist, gripping tightly like he’s daring anyone to challenge him.

If the flirter keeps pushing, expect a fiery explosion in the background as he growls:

“I swear to god, walk away before I fcking make you.”*

Afterward, he grumbles about it all day, acting extra protective.

Pulls you onto his lap later, burying his face in your neck:

“Dumbass… You’re mine. Say it.”

Tamaki Amajiki

Jealousy Level: 7/10 – Quiet but deeply insecure.

Tamaki doesn’t get aggressive, but his heart starts pounding in panic when someone flirts with you.

He freezes up, his eyes darting between you and the flirter, anxiously fidgeting.

The longer it goes on, the more he shrinks into himself, his brain whispering, “They could do better than me, couldn’t they?”

But when the flirter touches you, his shyness disappears, and his hand grips your wrist gently but firmly, pulling you closer.

“P-please don’t… touch what’s mine.” (blushes immediately after saying it.)

Afterward, he becomes extra clingy, his fingers brushing yours nervously.

Later, when you reassure him, he buries his face against your chest, mumbling:

“I don’t want to lose you…”

Hitoshi Shinso

Jealousy Level: 8/10 – Calm but passive-aggressive.

Shinso hates seeing someone flirt with you, but he doesn’t lose his cool.

He watches, arms crossed, expression unreadable, but his eyes hold a dangerous gleam.

Instead of getting aggressive, he just interjects smoothly:

“You really think you have a chance? That’s adorable.”

If the flirter persists? One word. Brainwash.

“Go walk into that wall for me.”

Later, he pulls you close, his voice low in your ear:

“You like making me jealous, don’t you?” (He won’t admit how much he loves it.)

Eijiro Kirishima

Jealousy Level: 6/10 – Protective but trusting.

Kiri doesn’t get jealous easily, but when he does? He handles it maturely.

He’ll laugh it off at first, stepping beside you, resting a gentle but firm hand on your waist.

“Hey, bud, just so you know—Y/N’s taken.”

If the flirter keeps pushing, his sharp-toothed grin fades, and his voice gets deeper.

“I don’t like repeating myself.”

He won’t fight, but his presence alone is enough to make anyone back off.

Afterward, he hugs you from behind, kissing your temple.

“You’re mine, got it? I know I don’t need to be jealous… but I still am.”

Mezo Shoji

Jealousy Level: 5/10 – Observant but rarely reacts.

Shoji is so calm and collected, he doesn’t get openly jealous.

Instead, he watches quietly, assessing whether it’s harmless or disrespectful.

If the flirter keeps going, he steps closer, towering over them, his multiple arms subtly flexing.

“Is there a reason you’re still here?” (His deep voice alone scares them off.)

Afterward, he doesn’t bring it up, but he keeps his hands on you more—an arm around your waist, fingers brushing yours.

Later, when you’re alone, he softly says:

“I trust you… but I’ll always be here to protect you.”

Fumikage Tokoyami

Jealousy Level: 7/10 – Silent but possessive.

Fumikage acts like he doesn’t care, but his clenched fists and stiff shoulders say otherwise.

If the flirting goes too far, Dark Shadow takes over before he can react:

“BACK OFF. THEY’RE TAKEN.”

He doesn’t need to say anything—his piercing gaze alone is intimidating.

Afterward, he takes your hand silently, leading you away.

Later, in the quiet of the night, he pulls you against him, whispering:

“I am not usually one for envy… but I won’t let anyone take you from me.”

Rikido Sato

Jealousy Level: 5/10 – Chill but lowkey possessive.

Sato doesn’t get mad easily, but when someone flirts with you, he doesn’t like it.

He just steps up behind you, crossing his muscular arms, his presence looming.

“Hope you weren’t getting the wrong idea.”

If the flirter keeps pushing, he leans down, whispering in your ear:

“Tell me if you want me to ‘accidentally’ spill protein powder on their head.”

Afterward, he bakes you something sweet, placing a kiss on your forehead.

“You don’t need anyone else, right?”

Tetsutetsu Tetsutetsu

Jealousy Level: 9/10 – Competitive, loud, and protective.

Tetsutetsu? Immediate challenge mode.

The moment someone flirts with you, he puffs up his chest, loudly declaring:

“HEY! BACK OFF! Y/N IS MINE!”

If the flirter dares to challenge him, he’s ready to fight on the spot.

“YOU WANNA GO?! WINNER GETS Y/N’S LOVE!”

You have to drag him away, laughing while he rants.

Later, he holds your face gently in his big hands, pressing a firm kiss to your forehead.

“I’ll always fight for you. You know that, right?”

[lemonsrosesandlavender]

Stretched (Part 1)

aka a filthy rolan x cleric postgame concept that I might write one day but in the meantime desperately want to get out of my brain and onto the page. EDIT: HAHAHAHA never mind, I wrote it. fuck me. Here you are, 1324 words and only part one!

ft fingering, “do assholes really work like that? we ignore it for kink reasons” and the BG3 equivalent of medical kink. Mild dubcon for "Rolan's having a great time but a healer shouldn't be enjoying fingering your asshole this much"

Rolan’s settled into the Tower; theoretically he has everything he wants. Apart from Tav, that is; he nursed a sore crush on them for a long time— ever since they saved his siblings— and has only just come to accept that they’re never coming back from Waterdeep. (… Several months after their wedding to Gale). Tav’s presence, however, awoke a very long-neglected (and repressed) part of him, and now though he thinks less often of them when he handles himself… he still handles himself often. Could it be the Archmage still needs something in his life beyond the Tower and his siblings?

He finds it, with some shame, behind the counter at Sharess's Caress. In disguise, of course; he doesn't want the city to know he's buying toys... especially not toys of this size. Rolan doesn't start with the largest ones, but as his hopes of Tav grow fainter, he finds himself seeking more and more challenge, more punishment for his aching, gaping hole. He loves to imagine them stretching him, taunting him for pining over them - claiming him as their own. And now that's receding, he still finds himself addicted to the sensation, barely able to come unless he's struggling on a cock far thicker than his own.

The figure that the cleric sees, coming through her door, is stiff with embarrassment, a violently crimson flush revealed on his cheeks as he casts off his Dragonborn disguise to show the tiefling underneath. Not just any tiefling.

‘Archmage,’ she says in recognition, keeping the note of amusement she feels hidden. She’s a professional, after all… although whatever ailment he has come to her with must be rather delicate, especially when his title makes him flush further and insist on being called by his name only. After a fair amount of evasion, and the confirmation that she is as discreet as every one of her previous clients has said, she at last pries out his problem: he fears he has stretched himself.

‘Using what implements? What are the symptoms?’

‘What other symptoms do you need?’ he hisses, before catching himself. ‘I know how it is supposed to feel.’

‘Is this immediately after use of toys, or…?’

‘I am not an idiot— I know to expect it after—but this feeling persists near-constantly.’ His voice drops, and she sees the true mortification and worry behind his bluster. It’s… more than professionally interesting. Poor man. She will make his embarrassment worthwhile.

‘Remove your trousers, and get on the bench. I need to examine the situation.'

He casts an anxious look at the door before he disrobes, and she asks if he'd like it locked; his shoulders drop a little when it is.

'Have you cleaned up, or should I—'

Rolan conjures a Prestidigitation faster than she can finish the sentence.

'Do not misunderstand,' he disclaims. 'I came prepared— I am merely being cautious—'

She can hear the irritable sound of him swallowing his nerves, and pats his bare ass gently. There's a slight hitch in Rolan's breath.

'Don't worry about it. Now.' She takes the base of his tail in his hand, and he draws another sharp intake of breath. If she had to label his affliction as anything, she would be inclined to say it was starvation. He is so hungry for her touch, that the slightest movement makes him shiver... and between his legs, his cock is beginning to stiffen.

Rolan clenches his thighs as she moves his robe out of the way, drawing his tail up so she can get a good look at his hole.

'Are you wearing this every day?' she asks, tapping the plug in his entrance.

It is rather basic, compared to the rest of him. His hair is beautifully twisted, and his elegant silk robes are drenched in expensive silverwork. But the plug is plain; not a jewel or crest in sight. Perhaps he is too ashamed of this hobby to let himself truly indulge in it. (A shame in itself, when the plug sits so prettily between his lovely, pert cheeks).

'Yes,' he admits.

'Mmm.'

'I have to!' he protests irritably. 'Otherwise, I can think of nothing else but the sensation of it. Being open—'

'I understand,' she says soothingly. 'I'll have to remove it for now.'

'Of course,' Rolan whispers, tensing his thighs even harder.

She puts a hand on one. 'Relax. Otherwise this will be more difficult.'

He lets out a choked whimper— but he does as he's told, and he keeps relaxing, with the utmost effort, until the plug is drawn from his hole.

There's no denying he's hard now. The cleric oils her fingers, presses one easily inside to begin the examination.

'One easy,' she murmurs, pushing it further up until she finds his pleasure spot. It feels healthy; in fine working order, if Rolan's gasp is anything to go by. She curls her finger a little more.

'Fuck!' Rolan whimpers. 'I mean— Zurgan— excuse me.'

‘Don’t worry about it. Just stay relaxed. I’m going to see how easily you accommodate wider objects.’

She presses another finger in, appreciating the heat inside him. Tieflings always run hotter than other humanoids. The lack of hair is very pleasing too— perfect for someone as neat and ordered as Rolan clearly is. The oil slicked on her fingers spills down his taint; she pauses for a moment, and takes a washcloth to wipe him clean.

Rolan’s asshole might be a little stretched, but she still feels it tense urgently around her. He lets out a short whimper, stifling it unsuccessfully with a cough.

‘Keep your tail up,’ she murmurs, as if she hasn’t noticed.

‘Yes— ’

Three fingers. Rolan shakes. She didn’t encounter much resistance, but clearly the act of being probed is rather stimulating for him, stretch or not.

‘Let me see.’ She gathers all four fingers, pressing them against his entrance— now, there is a little resistance— and checks to see how Rolan is taking it.

The moment he realises she’s looking at him, his cock twitches, and he panics, pulling away from her examining fingers.

‘Surely that’s enough,’ he gasps, dragging at the tails of his robe to hide his cock.

‘I need to determine the extent of the problem, if you want me to treat it properly.’

His tail flicks as he looks back at her. ‘Wretched Hells. Just how much are you going to put up there?’

The attempt at nonchalance comes out thin, breathy instead of confident. She can’t help but find him a little fascinating; easily embarrassed and yet pretending to be bold. And all over something so mild; she has treated people with far stranger ailments. Once again, she wonders if he perhaps only needs somebody else to make him feel that this is alright. Not that it matters at the present.

‘I’m going to find your limit,’ she says. ‘When it hurts, say now.’

Rolan pauses, and cedes, raising his tail once more to reveal his worked hole. His claws curl anxiously into the bench leather. ‘I am ready— ah— ah— ah— now!’

All four fingers and thumb, but not even close to the knuckle. Whatever monstrous girths he thinks he’s been stretching himself with, she is sure he could take quite a lot more— with practise and encouragement of course.

‘That’s the examination finished then,’ she tells him. ‘Let me clean you up.’

Again, she presses a gentle cloth to his skin— all the way down to his balls this time. He shivers, whimpering at her touch and not even trying to hide it this time. Too far gone, perhaps.

She notices a drip from his cock beneath him on the bench, and cleans that up too. Not the cock that it came from, though; that is his concern, even if he seems to anticipate it when she reaches beneath him.

‘Now,’ she murmurs, washing her hands off. ‘I’ll just consult my notes, and make you up a treatment salve.’

‘It is curable?’ Rolan asks.

‘Oh, certainly. I’ll explain what you have to do.’

[redsrooftopprincess]

Hi!! I love the way you write the bayverse boys, especially your headcanons! My favorite has to be your disability headcanons, I'm disabled and I love seeing representation. Would you be willing to write some headcanons of how the boys would act with a disabled partner? I know that's kind of a vague request since there are so many different ways to be disabled, but maybe some general headcanons on how they'd be with a partner that just has a hard time doing the "everyday" stuff, like getting out of bed/brushing teeth/walking around for a long time? I understand if you're not comfortable with writing this!

Hello, my dear anon! You're in luck! Luck? Is that the word? Idk. I, myself, am disabled! I'm only really comfortable writing the disabilities I'm intimately familiar with (without extensive conversation with people who do have them), but I CAN speak to the ol' classic combo of ADHD, Autism Spectrum Disorder, and Sensory Processing Disorder (I have an alphabet full, but these are the main 3 that cause me daily issues).

AuDHD Reader Headcanons

Here are some ways our boys would actively love a Sensory Avoidant Autistic with ADHD (much, non-physical love to my fellow neurosparklies), and a few things they might have a little trouble with.

Leo

Don't worry about a thing, love. He's got you covered.

Need a dark quiet place to hide for a while? His room exists. It's already perfect.

Leo's a light sleeper, so your very soft morning alarm, *will* wake him, but he loves that he doesn't have to endure an obnoxious wake up call.

If he's not there to fix them himself, your current breakfast foods and drinks are already on the counter waiting for you. A lunch box / containers sitting behind them, just in case you can't eat yet.

Always has a portable safe food on hand in case you get distracted or forget to eat AND forgot what he laid out for you, as well as earplugs, sunglasses, a water bottle in whatever temperature you prefer, and a soft hoodie just in case you're having one of *those* days where *everything* is too much.

Expect him to be checking in every few hours. He doesn't want to overwhelm you with constant attention, but will ensure meds, water, and food happen.

If you can't speak, he'll usually be pretty good at picking up on what you need until you can talk again.

Issues:

Leo has OCD. While at first, he may be fine picking up after you when you leave a mess, it could build resentment after a while, so try not to keep your stuff in his room.

Leo's never had an issue with executive function, so expect him not to understand why you can't just *do* the thing. It'll take a bit for him to get that your brain needs to play before it's capable of doing a task that doesn't give you dopamine, and he may give you a hard time about "getting the important thing done first."

Raph

He's got this. Donnie's autistic, so he has an idea of what to expect... at least, he thinks he does. Hopes he does. Regardless, he'll figure it out.

He cleans the HELL out of his room the first time you come over, no chaotic mess or wierd smells allowed. He may have a bit of an issue *keeping* it that way, but if he notices it's affecting you, he'll handle it.

Pressure. Therapy. My guy gives the BIGGEST BESTEST hugs and will hold you as long for as tightly as you need. (This is really all of them, but I have a favorite, okay?)

OT anyone? Existing physically is hard when you feel like you have to tell every part of you, separately, what to do. Posture and overall muscle mass and flexibility suffer. Raph is there to make sure that doesn't happen. He won't be a dick about it, and he'll find ways to make the weightroom more sensory friendly, but he won't be okay with you neglecting yourself.

Similarly, nutrition! Raph has this uncanny ability to make just about ANYTHING into a safe food. Up to and including removing things after the dish is done cooking. If you order take out and you don't like mushrooms (or your disliked ingredient of choice), expect them to be removed before you even sit down. Multivitamins and hydration are also priority, and expect him to occasionally shove a water bottle in your face. He has a vested interest in you staying healthy.

He usually knows how and when to interrupt you to avoid the bulk of hyperfixation rage, and even when you snap at him, he knows not to take it personally. He's used to Donnie's "moments," so he'll just silently raise a brow ridge and wait for you to fully come back to earth.

Loves to sing and when you lay on his shell the reverb of his rich baritone feels niiiiiice. 10/10 for sensory regulation.

Listens oh so patiently to your info dumping. Half the time he has no idea what your saying, but he loves the sound of your voice and he loves how excited you get about your latest hyperfixation. Seeing you bouncy and bright eyed about... cereal or whatever, can fully turn his day around.

Issues:

Raphael is a physical guy, If you are touch averse, expect this to be a problem. He'll try not to take it personally, he knows it's not personal, Donnie doesn't like being touched either, but it does mess with his head for a while. During those times you're okay with physical contact, try and give him all the reassurance.

Can be a bit pushy about your health and safety at times. Usually it's easy to determine when there's an actual threat and when he's just being overprotective. He's getting better about the latter.

Donnie

'Tism twins!!!

While there is the usual social tapdance of "what type of neurospicy are you?" when you first meet, you both know how important it is to get as much information as possible right up front, so you know how to operate around each other.

Infodumping becomes an art form. You can see be working in silence for hours when one of you will start talking, already halfway through your own conversation in your head, and the other is instantly on board. You learn a LOT from each other about the most beautifully random things.

Expect him to keep a small fridge/pantry stocked with safe foods (when he remembers) and drinks (when he remembers). You more or less end up taking turns restocking everything when you notice the other's safe foods are out.

Fidgets. Everywhere.

Understanding that when either of you check in with the other to make sure they're staying on task, it's not passive aggressive, and your genuinely asking if they need help staying focused.

Has a "Sensory Regulation Chamber" in the lab that's essentially just quiet room stocked with anything either of you need to regulate. Sunglasses, fluffy sweaters, a drum set, you need it? He'll get it.

Issues:

Beware the usual issues that arise with Neurodivergent couples, when your 'tism clashes with his. If you need quiet and he needs to infodump, you can direct him elsewhere, but you're his person, and he wants to tell YOU. So expect pouting.

Hyperfixation rage on both sides can be a huge problem, and if you're not careful, it can quickly turn into a full blown fight over nothing.

Mike

It's all good, Angel. Whatever you need.

The most chill about it, and will fully roll with the punches whenever something happens he isn't expecting.

Snacks? Snacks. No need to worry about the stress of sitting down to, or putting together a whole meal. He's got your safe snacks on hand at all times.

His hoodie is now your hoodie. Full stop.

Want to watch the same movie, listen to the same song, play the same game, or eat the same food seventeen times in a row? Hell yeah! Let's go for the record!

Many with SPD (sensory processing disorder), know how helpful cannabis can be. He and Donnie are already tinkering with some plants, so he'll put a few aside to breed into something that tones down the world without leaving you tired and foggy.

Will listen to you infodump for hours with a goofy lovestruck smile on his face. You'll think he isn't listening, but he'll surprise you with something later that shows just how closely he was.

Issues:

OVERSTIMULATION. And NOT in the fun way (maybe the fun way, but that wouldn't necessarily be an "issue"). Both he and his space are bright and loud and there's a lot of stuff with very little organization. which we all know isn't a problem... Until, suddenly, it really *really* is. Set up a quiet space. You will need it.

Similarly, he's got a bit of a codependency issue. They all do, really, but Mike's is pretty extreme. Before you, things were... dark. And now you're here and things are awesome and what do you mean you don't want to snuggle on the couch right now? Did he do something wrong? Handling touch aversion and your occasional need for solitude takes him a WHILE.

ALL OF 'EM

These boys are sensory heaven. It's like they were made for sensory regulation. From textured skin to big strong arms to their churr basically solving every problem in your world, if only for a little while, expect them to be your safe space and refuge.

...

Tag list

@thelaundrybitch @the-cauldron-witch @fyreball66 @ninnosaurus @tmntngl @thegirlwiththeninjaturtletattoos @zagreustomb @ramielll @silverwatergalaxy @gornackeaterofworlds @daedric-sorceress @sophiacloud28 @iridescentflamingo @sacred-holy-light @celeste-clearwater-06 @pheradream-15 @its-a-me-emmabee

[artstennisracket]

I was listening to "Be Mean" by DNCE and it immediately made me think of Art being submissive and needy having a degradation kink.

Please write Artrick Stanford Era where Patrick comes to visit Art from tour! Patrick is relentlessly teasing Art and it's driving Art crazy but Art is so pathetic and turned on by it that he begs Patrick to be mean to him and fuck his brains out.

this song is actually so good thank you for introducing it to my lifeeeeee. i took a few liberties but I hope you love it anon :)

bonus points if you saw my aave post and can figure out where I wanted to write Art be fucking

cw: nsfw(18+), dom/sub, bdsm overtones, spitting, slapping, all the things

Patrick had visited Art a handful of times during his time at Stanford. Not as much as Art would have liked (considering Patrick split his time between Art and Tashi every visit). The last time Patrick visited he was telling Art his latest sexescapde with Tashi.

“yeah man she wanted me to tie her up and everything. so fucking hot, didn’t know she’d be into bdsm,” Patrick grins, the memory replaying in his head.

Art is always flustered when Patrick talks about sex. Not because Art is a virgin or anything, quite the opposite actually. Maybe it’s because he’s imagining Tashi and Patrick doing those things in his head.

The thought of Patrick tying Tashi up and doing whatever he wanted to her? More realistically, whatever she instructed he could do to her? That was really fucking hot, Art could feel his lower region peak interest. He started thinking about if Patrick could tie him up and actually do whatever he wanted to Art…

Art clears his throat coming back to reality. Patrick is staring at him amused, like he can read Art’s thoughts. “wait what’s bdsm?” Art asks.

“it’s like— you know the rihanna song? S&M? ‘chains and whips excite me’?”

Art nods, he’d heard that song the radio a few times and may have downloaded it on his mp3 player. “yeah i’ve heard it before, so what’s the bd part then?”

“that part means bondage and dominance? bondage and discipline? im not a 100% sure. you seem very curious maybe you should look into it,” Patrick smirks.

Art’s cheeks are red and he opens his mouth to say something but decides not to. Patrick leans in closer so he can whisper in Art’s ear, “I dunno you seem pretty easy to dominate, maybe you’d be into it.”

So Art had been thinking about it ever since. He did look into it and there are parts he’d think he’d be into. Being dominated wasn’t something he got to experience often with girls and Patrick was the only guy he’s ever slept with.

Being tied up to be used at someone’s else’s disposal? Yeah that made his cock very hard. But he’s only slept with Patrick once and they never talked about it again, he wasn’t sure if he should bring it up when Patrick comes to visit him again today.

Later that day once Patrick arrives, they headed to the dining hall to grab some food. They sit at the bar type area with high top chairs. Patrick pulls Art’s chair closer to his right before Art sits down.

“so are you gonna tell me what’s up or are you gonna keep looking at me like that?” Patrick asks turning his head to the side to look directly at Art.

Art furrows his eye brows looking up from his plate of food, “what are you talking about?”

“since I got here you’ve been like on edge, what’s up?” Patrick crosses his arms in front of his chest.

Art rolls his eyes trying his best to not think about Patrick dominating him in the bedroom because it’s all he’s been thinking about all day. But Patrick has always been able to read him, so he has to put on his best acting performance.

He scoffs, “nothing is wrong man, I’m just happy you’re here that’s all.” Art is searching Patrick’s face to see if he believes him.

Patrick studies Art face for a second, his eyes scan across the blond’s face. He notices the super faint pink tint on Art’s cheeks and the way Art is avoiding making eye contact. He also notices the few blond curls poking out of his snapback, which Patrick didn’t realize this before but Art in a snapback is definitely doing it for him.

Suddenly he throws one arm around Art’s neck pulling him to be face to face with Patrick, “you fucking slut, honestly im proud of you. you should be opening up your horizons your in college, id be doing the same thing if I was you.”

Art is so confused right now, mainly by how his cock stirred when Patrick called him a slut. “im not doing anything, what’re you talking about?”

“you slept with someone right? did all your bdsm fantasies? that’s great why didn’t you tell me?” Patrick smiles.

Art is about to deny it but he knows that if he does Patrick might figure out what he’s actually thinking. He nods, “no yeah you’re right. I was nervous to tell you about it.”

Patrick blinks for a second. He realizes that he got it wrong, Art is lying. He’s not sure why though but he’s going to play along until he finds out. He retracts his arm and sits back down in his stool fully. “so what’d you guys do then?”

Fuck Art should’ve been coming up with a story in his head as soon as he said it, now Patrick is going to ask questions he doesn’t know the answer to because they never happened.

“um y-yeah she just like tied me up and—“

Art gets cut off by Patrick saying, “i knew you’d be the one getting tied up, you’re just so submissive man.”

Art scoffs, “okay well why are we even talking about this here in public let’s just go back to my room and watch a movie or something.”

Patrick continues asking question when they get back to Art’s room. “what was her name?” “what did she look like?” “more tits or more ass?” “how’d you meet her?” Art couldn’t fucking keep up, he couldn’t keep his story straight and that when Patrick knew he got him.

“you fucking liar.” Patrick says backing Art against a wall.

“what? im not lying about anything. she was real and she was here and—“

Art is cut off by Patrick again, “bullshit you know what I think?” He asks standing very close to Art their noses almost touching.

“i’m sure you’re gonna tell me,” Art says trying to keep his breathing and his cock under control. He’s not doing a great job at either.

Patrick smirks leaning in to whisper right by Art’s ear, “i think you want me to fuck you…again.” He moves his hand down to groping Art’s erection. His grasp is firm when he says, “and i think this time you don’t want me to hold back.”

Art’s eyes slipped closed and he bit his lip trying to stifle the moan on the top of his tongue. He doesn’t do a good job at that either.

“is that what you want?” Patrick asks as he slips his hand inside Art’s shorts and boxers. He cups Art’s tip where all the pre-cum had built up, using it to make his hand glide easily up and down Art’s shaft. “fuck, you’re so wet for me already. but I wanna hear you say it. is that what you want?”

Art nods, “ah fuck,” but the pleasure of Patrick stroking him is on the forefront of his mind. He lets his forehead rest on Patrick’s shoulder.

“can you use your words for me baby? wanna hear you say it. tell me what you want me to do to you.”

Art’s eyes are rolling is the back of head as he whines against Patrick’s shoulder. He has a feeling that not answering the question may result in consequences or even worse, Patrick might stop touching him. He nods before opening his mouth to say, “i— i want you to fuck me, don’t want you hold back, want you to be mean to me.”

Patrick smirks stilling his movements, “guess you’re not as dumb of a slut as I thought. didn’t think you were gonna answer me. and I don’t think you’re gonna need it but we should have a safe word anyway just in case.”

Art had read about this when he was doing his bdsm research, “um I think, maybe pineapple?”

Patrick lets out a laugh, “okay,” he takes his hand out of Art’s shorts before going to his bag. He had packed a few things he wanted to try with Tashi but he’s never been one to waste an opportunity. “I want you to take off all your clothes, lie down on your bed, and I’m gonna use these,” he pulls out two pairs of black fuzzy handcuffs.

Art strips so fast he might’ve gotten whiplash. It was crazy that his dreams were coming true. He’s wanted this for some time now and he was itching with anticipation.

Art lays down on his bed. He’s laying on some pillows so his back is slightly elevated. He’s so hard all he wants to do is touch himself—

“no touching,” Patrick tsks washing over to the bed. He takes each of Art’s wrists, handcuffing one to each side of the headboard.

Art was a vision. He was already so hard, his tip was leaking precum against his tummy. His face was flushed and his eyes were a little glossed over, “wow you look, really fucking pretty like this. all laid out for me. desperate, just waiting for me to use you however I please.” Patrick said as he traced slowly down Art’s torso with his finger.

He moved his gaze back up to Art’s nipples. He pinched one and took the other into his mouth.

“ah—“ Art gasps. No one’s ever touched him there, he didn’t think it’d feel that good.

Patrick does a small little lick to each nipple before kissing his way down Art’s torso. He purposefully skips over Art’s cock.

Patrick takes a step back to pull his shirt and his jeans off, “hm should I suck you off baby?” He questions as he steps out of his boxers and stroked himself a few times.

Art nods. Patrick tsks as he pinches Art’s nipple, “what did I say about using your words?”

“oh fuck oh fuck okay okay i- i- want you to suck me off, please please” Art whines, his body keening towards where Patrick is pinching him.

Patrick lets go, satisfied with Art’s answer, “good boy, but if you don’t answer me when I speak to you again, i won’t be so nice.”

He lays down on his stomach in between Art’s legs. He acts as if he’s going to lick up the side of Art’s shaft but inside bring his tongue to lick a fat stripe up Art’s tightness.

This takes Art by surprise and he moans out, “jesus fuck, Patrick.”

He teases the outside with his tongue before pushing inside. Art is taken aback by how good it feel, attempting to fuck himself back against Patrick’s tongue.

Patrick allows it. He needs Art to loosen up a bit before he can add any fingers. Patrick sits up holding two fingers in front of Art’s mouth, “suck, and this is all the lube you’re getting so make it good.”

Art opens his mouth sucking on Patrick’s fingers like there’s no tomorrow. Licking and sucking, sucking and licking, until he feels like he’s covered Patrick’s fingers in a good amount of spit.

Patrick pulls his fingers out and presses one finger inside Art’s hole. He grabs Art’s curls to pull him in for a kiss, it’s a mess of teeth and tongue. Patrick has now worked Art up to three fingers before he pulls his fingers out.

He wipes his hand on the bed, “now I’m gonna fuck your mouth for a little bit okay? remember there’s no lube so you better make my cock nice and wet so i can fuck you properly okay?”

Art nods biting his lip. He’s never had his mouth fucked, sure he’s sucked Patrick’s dick before but this would be different. He just doesn’t want to die of suffocation, Patrick’s dick is pretty big.

But he nods nonetheless, “oh— okay yeah i will, make it wet.”

“and hey you can just pinch me if you need me to stop at anytime.”

Art nods.

Patrick stands on the bed, Art’s chest is between his legs. He kneels down, moving one leg to be next to Art’s head. He grabs Art’s hair once again as he starts feeding his dick inside Art’s mouth slowly. Inch by inch. Once he hits the back of Art’s throat he lets out a low groan, “fuck baby, you were made to take my cock fuck.

He steadied himself before he starts fucking into Art’s throat, “taking me so fucking well, you’d let me use any of your holes to get off huh? fucking cockslut.”

The gurgling and choking sounds coming from Art are really turning Patrick on. He can hear all the spit building up in Art’s mouth so he pulls out. His dick is nice and wet, “did such a good job baby,” Patrick smiles, “now I can fuck you nice and good.”

Patrick stands up on the bed to move back to his original spot between Art’s legs. This time he lines himself up with Art’s hole before he pushes in.

Now it’s Art’s turn to let out a low groan as Patrick bottoms out, “ah oh fuck—“

“you are so fucking tight jesus, gripping the fuck out of my cock,” Patrick grunts as he grabs Art’s hips and starts picking up the pace.

“this is what you wanted right baby? wanted me to fuck you? and what else?”

Art whines, “yes Patrick fuck, wanted you to fuck me.”

Patrick grabs Art’s face forcing them to make eye contact, “and what the fuck else did you ask me to do you huh? or are you just such a dumb fucking cockslut you can’t remember. as soon as you get some dick in you you can’t think straight anymore?”

Art is so fucking hard, he wants to cum so fucking bad. And Patrick is saying all the right things it’s hard to focus. Fuck. What did he say? Why can’t he remember? Oh. He remembers, “be mean to me,” he chokes out between Patrick’s bruising thrusts.

“there you go, maybe not a dumb slut, but you’re definitely still a slut for my cock,” He smirks, “open your fucking mouth.” Art opens his mouth with no questions asked and Patrick spits in it.

Now alot of people would find that disgusting and Patrick was going out on a limb he had no idea if Art would like it. But judging by Art reacted, Patrick thinks his guess was right.

Art feels very disrespected and degraded and he’s never been more turned on his life. Maybe that’s why the next words that come out of his mouth are, “hit me, fuck, slap me, need it.”

Patrick slows down his thrusts for a second, unsure if he should, but he doesn’t want to ask and ruin what they have going on right now so he does it.

It’s light and short and not hard enough. “harder Patrick please,” Art begs, tears threatening to escape from his eyes.

Patrick didn’t have to be told twice, so he slaps Art again. Keeping his hand firm and following through on his swing. Fuck. Art’s going to cum. He hasn’t even touched himself but between Patrick fucking him, slapping him, and overall degrading him he can’t help it.

“‘m gonna cum, Patrick please, gonna cum, can I cum please?” He finishes all over his tummy.

Patrick already knew Art was close so he wasn’t holding back anymore and he let go, “yes fuck baby, you can cum. gonna cum inside you fuck, gonna fill you up.”

Patrick cleans them both up and uncuffs both of Art’s wrists.

“how do your wrists feel? or better yet how does your face feel?,” Patrick smirks and he’s pretty proud of himself. Making someone cum untouched was always on his bucket list.

Art is half asleep on his bed when he mumbles out, “‘m good, feel good.”

Patrick smiles before he takes Art’s blanket and uses it to tuck Art in. He feels pretty proud of himself for putting Art to sleep as well. He gets dressed to head out and get them some food. He already knows Art will be hungry when he wakes up.

[justaweirdo1-blog]

Can you pass it?

Platonic? Tim drake x reader

Summary: an encounter with robin leads to you offering a hit from your joint?

Warnings:stoner reader and stoner time drake, use of drugs, slight assault, curse words

This is my first ever fanfic and I’m not an expert on Tim drake I just know he is stoner coded fs, as am I and honestly the strain names are real and I have tried them. And I basically wrote this as if it were me smoking with Tim. Wrote this high too and did not proof read either so Hope you enjoy!

★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★ ・・・・・・★ ・・・・・・★ ・・・・・・★ ・・・・

Being robin was a tough enough job but to also have to juggle school and Wayne enterprises was more than what Tim asked for in life. But when you have a brain that functions the way Tim’s does you just kind of get used to the non stop thoughts and constant need to solve cases. Not to say he doesn’t desire a break every once in a while it’s just that he can never feel relaxed enough to take a breather.

That was until about 2 hours ago before his world changed.

He was out on patrol doing his usual rounds in his assigned quadrant when he spotted you, you were heading into a dark alley looking uneasy and suspicious and it was pretty obvious he needed to follow you to make sure you weren’t in any danger. When he got close enough he was able to recognize you, having been assigned partners for a science class. He didn’t know you that well since he had just transferred to Gotham high 2 months ago. He was already growing tired of it since he barely even attended school, truthfully he was ready to drop out .(Ik it’s canon in some comics that Tim drake drops out but correct me if I am wrong pls!)

But back to them, why would his lab partner be walking down an alley in a dangerous part of Gotham? He’s running over roofs to get to the one that leads to that alley and when he spots you he leans over the ledge to listen in on your conversation.

Honestly what were you thinking it’s almost 1am and you’re alone walking the streets of Gotham defenseless. You knew you should have invested in that taser your friend told you to get but at least you had some pepper spray left maybe about 2 sprays left. Pretty disappointing that you’re almost done with it considering all the bad encounters you’ve had before with goons or robbers who would do anything for money.

You always hated this part of being a stoner yes it’s fun to get high and all but the anxiety you get from having to buy from shady guys was definitely not worth it but you usual source wasn’t in town right now and you just had the worst shift of your life. So safe to say you really needed this right now.

As you walk deeper into the darkness just a faint light flickering in the corner of a building, you approach the man who you assume is the one selling? Honestly your not to sure but you had your heart set on this new strain it was something about bee jizz? And a Bugatti flavor. You could never get behind the crazy and yet unique names they came up with but it is exciting to pick flavors and see which one taste best.

Your heart is basically beating out of your chest and you could probably pass out from the anxiety you’re feeling right now. But you suck it up because you have been looking forward to this all day and you already placed an order at your favorite taco spot and made sure your iPad was fully charged so you were set for the night.

Deep breaths…. And you break the silence.

“Are you Jake?” The guy just nodded his head while looking you up and down. Oh no you thought to yourself please don’t try anything. He pushes him off the wall he was leaning on and asks what you wanted to buy while trying to close the space between y’all. “Please back up I’m just here to buy bud sir.” You made sure to sound serious and brave even though you were shaking inside.

Tim listening to you from above was ready to step in but stopped when he heard you were buying weed. It’s not uncommon for teenagers to try drugs even most of his hero friends had tried it at least once. He always turned it down because Bruce has a strict no drugs policy, plus he just never really wanted to try it since he had his coffee and tea as his source of getting through the day

“Yeah I’ll give you what you ordered but uh how about you give me your number first beautiful.” The dealer said as he took another step forward and tried to grab your waist. You stumbled back on some trash on the floor and almost fell before regaining your balance. “You can’t just grab someone like that it’s gross honestly!” You stated while giving him a look of disgust, he didn’t take that very well..

“Listen here bitch I sell to plenty of addicts and i know most are willing to do anything for what they want so stop being a brat and give in”

Geez could this guy be any more of an asshole? But having had the shittiest day already you were fed up with this jerk so you took matters into your own hands.

“Listen dickhead just give me the weed and I’ll give you the money and leave me the fuck alone.” You handed over the money just wanting to be done with this. But once again maybe this guy is just an idiot and genuinely has like only 2 brain cells and he tries to take a swing on you. “What did you say bitch?!”

Tim drops down into the alley ready to help you when you move sideways and hold out your foot and let him stumble to the floor as he loses his balance. Which surprised Tim, he didn’t expect you to act quick. You proceed to hold him down and rummage through his backpack to take what you came to get feeling so over this interaction. And you become even more upset when he didn’t even bring what you wanted.

“You didn’t even bring the right bud dumbass ugh. And I’m taking extra for the inconvenience.” You chuckle as you put the weed away in your bag. Feeling successful for the night .

“Woah you handled that pretty well.” You spin around so fast to see who just said that, when you lock eyes with robin. “It’s not my drugs I swear!” You say quickly knowing damn well you’re lying. “Oh really because that’s not what I heard” robin said getting closer and tying the dealers hands up before he could run away. “Well I uh- it’s helps me sleep okay” you say while trying to walk away. “Please don’t snitch on me like don’t tell Batman? I’ll even let you take a hit.” The sentence just leaves your mouth without a second thought and once you realize what you have said you immediately take it back.

“Omg did I just offer drugs to robin?” You say out loud and Tim just chuckles to himself. You just stare at him did you just make robin laugh?

“Ive never tried it “ he states looking a bit hesitant.

“Oh really like not even once?” You ask in a sort of curious tone. Tim paused he never felt the need to get high and has been offered hits from his friends many times before, so why did it sound so tempting when she asked if he wanted some?

He was thinking so hard he forgot he was having a whole conversation with his lab partner. “So is that a yes? You seem like you deciding on whether to say yes or no which I take as a yes!” He stares at you and sees how you’re a little excited he can’t help but smile at you.

He remains silent unsure of how to answer he doesn’t want to say yes for the image of robin but Tim drake doesn’t want to say no. “I won’t tell anybody if it matters I can keep this as our secret okii!” He keeps eye contact with you and knows you aren’t lying and it eases him maybe he should agree.

As you felt like he was about to turn down your offer he blurts out “I’ll agree but you really can’t tell anyone alright I’m trusting you with that.” He spoke in such a calm yet serious voice. “I promise robin” you said in a reassuring tone.

As you are heading out the alley ready to roll up as you make your way to the taco place you feel robin grab your waist and next thing you know your standing on the a random rooftop. “What are you doing?” Tim asked a bit confused.

“I’m headed to pick up some tacos I ordered I was gonna roll as we walked” you said so casually.

“Yeah there might be a problem with that “ he said gesturing to his robin suit.

“Ohhhh right right I forgot” you stood for a sec to think.

“Okay I can walk to the taco place to pick up my order while you get there with your grapple thing, and then we will meet on the roof right across the taco spot and we smoke before eating. Alright?”

He nodded his head in agreement “ okay but I could get us both there with my grapple if you want so you don’t have to walk and it’ll be faster?” He asked.

You nodded eagerly you got excited again the sooner you get there the sooner you can eat your food. And it was way faster you were there in 5 min, it freaked you out at first but then you got used to the swinging.

“Okay I’m gonna go grab my order I’ll be back and then we can light up”

He nodded his head as he watched you walk towards the taco place. When you return he can smell the tacos and his stomach growls loud then silence fills the air . You start laughing a little and you just see robin get a little embarrassed at the sudden noise that came from his stomach.

“Good to hear you are hungry because I got you some food too. You are probably gonna get the munchies after we finish .” You pull out the weed you just got and your grinder, you place the little nuggets in the container then placing the cover you begin to twist the circular object . Tim watching so intently at you methods and each step you take to make this. Then you pull out your rolling paper and start forming a cone carefully packing the grinded flower into the paper as you lick along the paper to seal the joint twisting the end.

You hold the joint between your lips softly while you pull out you lighter and use your other hand to cover the gustily wind. once you got it lit you take a deep inhale and hold it for a few seconds before releasing a cloud of smoke as you exhale.

“Here” you hold over the lit up substance to robin. He’s not sure exactly how to hold it and it’s obvious he’s never even held a cigarette. “Do you know how to do it?”

“No I don’t, I don’t know the first thing about any of this stuff.”

“That’s fine I’ll teach you, so put it between your lips and you are going to take a small inhale since it’s your first time I don’t want you coughing. Then when it’s in your mouth make sure to inhale it into your lungs so that it can take affect, then exhale slowly and you will see the smoke come out.” You watch as he does exactly as you said and notice how he reacts to seeing the smoke leave his mouth.

He coughs regardless but it wasn’t too bad. “Why can’t I stop coughing? Did I do it right?” You can’t help but giggle as you say “ I coughed my first time too but you get used to it and soon you won’t cough.”

“how do I know if I’m high? Will I feel it?” You nod at him and explain the euphoric feeling it gives you and the way you feel the world go silent.

“You will start to feel a bit of a rush in your head and then notice that time seems to be going slow but then you will be overcome with a wave of calmness. At least that’s how it feels for me, so relax and you will soon feel it kick in.” You smile at robin hoping he will help him ease his stiff posture.

And soon enough after a couple more passes between the vigilante and you, you see him slowly start to sway himself while letting out a giggle here and there. “I think I can feel it now” he turns towards you and he can’t stop his giggles which turn into pure laughter. “I don’t even know what I’m laughing for but this just feels funny I like it” he says.

“That’s good and I hope you’re hungry now because we have some of Gotham’s best tacos right here.” You begin to open the food and glance at robin practically drooling over the food. “Here’s your food! hope you like it!” And he absolutely fucks those tacos up and you have to say there were amazing as always. Y’all somehow end up watching a Disney nature documentary about bears which you were both so invested in.

Once you felt your high coming down you knew his would be coming to an end too, so you start packing up your stuff and look at the time on your phone and notice it’s 4am.

“Oh shit I need to get home like right now!” You had school in the morning and a very important lab test that you couldn’t afford to fail if you wanted to pass this class. “Are you coming down from the high because I was hoping you could take me home please!” You pleaded him.

“I can feel it going away did something happen? What time is it?” He checks the time and sees the time and also begins tot freak out because his patrol was now over and he forgot he turned off his comms so he hopes Batman didn’t check in on him which he knows is impossible knowing Bruce.

“Oh wow it is late I need to report back to Batman, but yes I will take you home first!” And after you tell him where you live and why you need to go home he couldn’t help but wonder why he never spoke to you sooner. You were funny and nice to be high with, he wondered if he should ask if y’all could hang out again.

You both land in front of your home it’s a lower class house a little outside the city. “I know you have to go but I wanted to say, I enjoyed your company tonight and if you ever want to get high again or not up to you we can meet up and I hope we can be even friends maybe?” You hoped he would say yes

“I had a good time tonight too it was my first time getting high and the tacos were so good it was like my tastebuds were enhanced and I could taste every ingredient. Oh and that documentary was amazing I can’t remember the last time I was relaxed enough to watch a whole movie in once sitting and I was so focused but the colors I liked the feeling.” He could keep going but he really needed to leave.

“So I take that as a yes to another sesh? “ he nods as you pull out your phone to exchange contacts, you tell him to text you whenever he wants to smoke and you’ll be there.

“Well bye robin see ya later?” “Bye”You wave to him before walking inside and as soon as you close your door robin is off to the bat cave and if hoping Bruce already turned in for the night. He knows this is impossible but he’s manifesting right now. Once he gets to the cave he sees Bruce in front of the bat computer like where else would he be.

So he tries to sneak behind and head up the stairs and as soon as he thought he was in the clear Bruce clears his throat and Tim freezes.

“Where did you go tonight? You didn’t answer your comms and you’re late. So what were you doing?” Getting questioned from Bruce whether or not he did something wrong always made him feel like the end of the world.

“Oh I was helping out someone and just got caught up I turned off my comms because I didn’t want to get distracted you know.” Bullshit he knows it Bruce knows it, there’s no way Bruce was buying this excuse and he had cameras all over Gotham he had to have caught him doing drugs. Tim starts to feel a bit weak in his knees how could he be so reckless what would be punishment no more robin? He was thinking of the ending possibilities of the worst outcomes.

“Ok just let me know when you’re turning off your comms so i know you’re fine.” No fucking way. No way Bruce believes him “oh okay I’m off to bed I’m tired i will write my report tomorrow. Goodnight” Tim slowly turned away hesitant as he headed up the stairs before Bruce spoke once more. “Oh and I would love to meet her when you are ready Tim.” B gave Tim a smile.

Then it clicked all. He stayed composed and shook his head as he continued to walk upstairs. He can’t believe it Bruce did see him with you but obviously didn’t watch long enough to see him get high. This is great for him although now Bruce thinks he has a girlfriend but he was fine with that as long as he got to smoke again and have an excuse to cover up this time.

★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★ ・・・・・・★ ・・・・・・★ ・・・・・・★ ・・・・・

Part 2?

**Pls lmk if you like it my intention was platonic Tim x reader but if anyone wants them together I can totally make that happen. Pls know this is my first post and I love feedback but be nice pls!! **

[detstrahm]

Peter suddenly felt the tension for once, actually backing off. Something told him he needed to back off this situation before he said anything else or anything worse. He suddenly, for some reason, felt bad. It didn't make sense though. He shouldn't feel bad. He had a point, Mark did seem jealous of Lindsey. But did he maybe take it too far?

He took a breath through his nose and out his mouth. "Mark, I'm not saying you're jealous, I'm saying it seems like it. Every time I mention Lindsey, you act like it's the end of the damn world. You get all tense and angry as if you hate her for simply being in my life."

He spoke as if he hated the idea of Hoffman being jealous, but he really didn't. He enjoyed the idea of how he could ruin someones mood just by simply bringing up one person.

"All I want to know is why. Why does your mood change? Why do you get so tense? Why do you hate the idea that I think she's perfect?" Strahm poured out his words as if his mouth was a faucet for his brain.

The air between them was too much. It was thick, it was overwhelming. It drove him so insane how angry they both were. All he could hear was his own heartbeat in his ears.

"I just need to know. Why don't you like Lindsey?" He wasn't demanding anymore. He was pleading. He wanted to know why because he couldn't handle watching how he looked at her with such anger and jealousy every time they spoke at work.

Peter walked into the station holding a laptop bag and a big silver cup of coffee. It was very obvious he didn't get much sleep, like usual.

[ - @detstrahm ]

[ ooc text : i've never done an rp on tumblr so sorry if this starter sucks !!! ]

Mark Hoffman stands near his desk, eyes narrowing as Strahm enters the room. He takes in the sight of the tired detective, the coffee in his hand, and the laptop bag slung over his shoulder. Hoffman straightens slightly, his face betraying no emotion as he watches Strahm move to his desk.

"You look like you haven't slept in days, Strahm. Tiredness isn't a badge of honor. It’s a weakness."

He leans back in his chair, his arms folding across his chest, his gaze unwavering as he watches Strahm’s every move.

"If you’re planning to continue running on fumes, it’s only a matter of time before it catches up to you. You should know better than anyone what happens when you lose focus."

His tone is harsh, but there's an edge to it, as if he's quietly daring Strahm to respond, or perhaps waiting for a crack in the other man's usually composed demeanor.

[NO I LOVE IT!! LMK IF THIS IS TOO MUCH HEJEEJEJEJ]

[sorryitsmyfirstdayonearth]

Last (Sam Winchester x female reader)

It was never supposed to happen. But this is the last time. It has to be.

Read it on AO3

My 2024 Kinktober series

Rated E. 1.1k words. Cheating (kind of the worst kind). Secrets. Grief. Temptation.

The sheets rustle behind you when Sam sits up, and from the way he sounds you can tell he’s leaning forward, long outstretched legs slightly angled, elbows resting on knees. You know the white sheet must have slipped off him far enough to reveal his chest, his arms, the tan skin and the hair on both, the feeling of it ghosting under your fingertips.

You know that he’s staring at the back of your head with those sweet, dark eyes. Guilt probably making him feel sick to his stomach as well.

You’re sitting on the edge of the bed and your hand goes up to wipe at the tears you started crying after you woke up. You wait for Sam to say something, but he doesn’t.

“This was the last time,” you say, not turning to him. Your voice sounds thick from the tears, but you don’t care. “I can’t do this anymore.” Sam’s quiet for a moment before he answers.

“I know,” he says.

“It’s not right,” you add, and he only repeats it. You bite your lip in the hope it will stop new tears from flowing.

“If he’s…” you start, but can’t continue, the thought too horrible.

“He can never know,” Sam says, voice final. Sam’s moral, always tries to do the right thing, but he knows how tremendously he has fucked up. He knows there’s no path that leads to being able to justify this, even if his brother is out there howling at the moon with Crowley. There is no explanation, nothing that can ever make this right.

So, he has decided, a lie is, in this case, the best and only solution. Because he could not stand it if Dean ever finds out. He wouldn’t survive it. And neither would Dean.

You turn around, look at Sam. In the low light of the room, Sam can see the glistening trail of tears on your cheeks. You’re naked, and somehow the bunker’s sterile light makes it look like you’re bathed in moonlight. Sam can’t stop his eyes from flickering down to your breasts, remembering how just a little while ago he wrapped his lips around your nipple and you arched up at him, ran your hand into the thick hair at the back of his neck to pull him closer.

He blinks a few times, tries to shake himself out of the memory. You are still looking at him.

“If he comes back… if we can heal him…” you start, but then stop again. It’s not like either of you hasn’t said the same thing a million times. Grief over Dean’s death and then relief that he wasn’t dead has thrown you both for a loop. You’ve both been on edge for weeks, too little sleep, too much caffeine. Too much fear. That you can’t get Dean back, or worse, that he will come back, but as he is now. A demon.

That he’ll come back and you save him and that he finds out.

It wasn’t until one night not so long ago that Sam decided he needed assistance to sleep, which was when you found him drinking in the library. Your first instinct was to stop him, but there was no point, so you joined him instead. You didn’t have the energy for anything else, not with Dean out there, doing God knows what. God knows who.

You want to scoff at yourself, at the fact that he is a demon and your biggest worry is that he is with other women. The thought of it, of the gold band on your finger not meaning anything anymore, that he is out there, back to his old ways…

No. No, you tell yourself, don’t lie. Is that really your greatest worry? That he’s sleeping around? Or are you just trying to justify what you have been doing? Trying to justify why only an hour earlier you were on your back, ass at the foot of the bed, body covered in a sheen of sweat, one of your legs hooked over Sam’s elbow while your husband’s brother fucked you without abandon?

Is this the payback? The payback for what Dean might be doing? Not even Dean. This demon inside of him. You don’t want to think like that, don’t want to be this petty, but your brain keeps grasping at things to justify yourself. All it lands on is the image of your fingernails scratching down Sam’s thick biceps, begging him to fuck you harder while he lowers his head to suck a mark into your neck in response.

A mark. The irony isn’t lost on you.

Neither of you is sure who made the first move that night in the library, who cracked first. Who was more desperate, lonelier. Maybe it doesn’t matter. Maybe you stopped caring the moment Sam pushed you down on the table, held you in place and slammed himself into you, your mind blissfully emptied by the fullness he provided.

You’ve ended up like this most nights since. You both tell yourselves you need this, that it helps you focus. It’s a lie. You don’t know what it is.

The good thing, and the horrible thing at the same time, is that it’s the only time you don’t think about Dean. Not the bad parts, not the good parts. And maybe that is the real betrayal. That you and Sam are together, the two people closest to Dean, who are supposed to love him the most, and you don’t think about him. You only think about each other. Bodies moving in the dark, gasps and moans and heads filled with nothing but the want for more.

Sam is sitting there, beautiful and sad. You swallow and then you crawl onto the bed. Kneel naked before him, chest rising and falling slowly.

“This was the last time,” you say, just like you do every night. Sam nods, and then he reaches for you. Drags you towards him, runs his hands all over, your lips meet, roughly, desperately.

This is the last time, you repeat in your head.

His fingers find your wetness and you work yourself down on him while he watches you, sees your face contort and your body squirm. He wonders if you look the same when Dean touches you, and then he stops thinking about anyone else, fills his mind with you.

This is the last time.

You ride Sam, him sitting up, large hand splayed over your back. The other hand goes up to brush your hair out of your face and the gentleness of it nearly undoes you.

This is the last time.

One of these nights, it will be. And it will be because Dean is back, because you’ve saved him. The other option is too horrible, too terrifying. You can’t think about it.

But then Sam makes you forget and you make him forget and at least for a little while, you are free.

[tepid-tea]

So this is a snap shot of my Actor!au- modern for my JayVik brain rot idea lol.

It’s not beta’d or anything so please excuse the errors…. I am also posting this on my break at work on my phone…..

———-

“Jayce!! Oh my Jayce you’ll never believe!!!” Caitlyn’s voice startled him out of his doze. He’d been napping on the plane for the last hour, getting rest before the chaotic weekend. There were planned photo ops for later this evening since his flight was delayed, his schedule now a mess.

“Mmm, what?” He opened one of his eyes to peep at his friend. She seemed to be vibrating in her seat, eyes glued to her screen.

“Viktor Novak just crashed a panel” Caitlyn turned her tablet towards him, a live feed of said panel on the screen.

“What!” Jayce lurched forward and tugged the tablet away from her, eyes wide on the screen.

“Yeah fans are apparently having a complete meltdown over it” she added, “it’s his first appearance since his accident and it’s a ‘Round Table’ panel at that.”

The Round Table had been the film to cause the accident three years ago causing the brilliant actor to disappear from the limelight. Rumor was the accident was so bad there had been a chance he’d never walk again. Thankfully word had it he walked with some mobility aids but again everything was speculation until now.

Jayce ignored everything else Cait was saying as he turned up the volume to hear the panel. Viktor Novak was an actor he had admired even before he’d made his own break into acting. Despite only being a year age difference between the two of them Viktor had more films under his belt then Jayce and award nominations to boot. Also the sheer amount of volunteer work and charities he was the face for; the man seemed to be always on the go.

“I’d have to say I was mostly shocked at the outpouring support I received.” Viktor replied, scratching at the beauty mark under his eye. “From friends, colleagues and of course the fans.”

He seemed to pause as the crowd screamed and cheered in support. It was easy to see the wall of sound wasn’t something he was used to. However the man still gave a kind smile to the crowd as they quieted down for him to continue speaking.

“But I wasn’t expecting it really, so thank you for all of it from the bottom of my heart” he said, ringed hand touching his chest.

The sincerity in his eyes was so staggering that Jayce’s breath caught. The close up they camera was getting showed how different the man looked. His hair long with soft ashen blonde mixed in with his dark brown. He looked soft and heartbreakingly beautiful to Jayce; delicate but still strong despite how thin he looked.

“Gods, you’re practically drooling over there Jayce” Caitlyn teased, causing him to look up.

“I’m not!” Jayce exclaimed, feeling his face heat up brightly. So he had a slight crush on a fellow actor he had never met. They would have met if not for the accident; they’d finally been slotted to be in the same film then was quickly recasted. Salo had been painful to work with, the disappointment hard to stomach when doing scenes. He’d already pictured them all in his head beforehand, the only reason why he had auditioned for the role was because Viktor had already been named for one of the support roles.

“Are you finally going to talk to him? This is your big chance, he’s at this convention all weekend.” Caitlyn leaned back in her seat, presumably going through emails.

“I want to try” he sighed;thinking back to all the award shows he’d gone to and had choked on his nerves.

The other man was always surrounded by other brilliant actors; especially Silco Marino who seemed to be his shadow. There had always been rumours of them dating as Viktor was openly gay and Silco seemed fairly fluid in who his affections went too. However nothing had ever been confirmed other than the two being close friends and frequently in the same films.

“I’ll do my best to try and make it happen,” Caitlyn smiled, tapping away at her phone. “Plus watching you fumble will be a treat; a nice humbling moment for you.”

“Thanks sprout.” He grumbled, going back to the tablet screen. Seemed like they were at fan questions now and Mel was answering something that was making the two men laugh.

“— head to toe with mud, I could not believe it!” Mel laughed, eyes bright as she looked at the two others.

“I thought it was a lovely day,” Viktor seemed to preen, screwing the top off a water bottle. “We have two very different memories of that scene.” He stopped to take a long drink.

“You were all snug and warm you little shit” Silco grumbled, “while I was standing in the muck in full armour I could barely walk in!”

The crowd seemed to laugh at that and the person who had asked the question thanked them and disappeared back into the sea of fans. They were quickly replaced by a young girl dressed up like a tiny Merlin in pigtails. She walked up the microphone and seemed to nervously scan the crowd as if looking for someone. She started to move her hands in what seemed in meaningful movements.

“Uh, sorry sweet heart—“ the moderator started, looking nervous.

“Ah, I’ve got this” Viktor hauled himself up out of his chair and made his way to the edge of the stage. He seemed to wave a hand back at Silco, who arched an eyebrow and moved to help the young man sit on the edge of the stage.

He quickly signed back to the little girl, whose face seemed to light up brightly in awe. Viktor looked at her with soft eyes then looked up at Silco who was standing by him still, looking fond. The whole crowd awed loudly and tittered at the display.

“Reduced to your techy now Viky? Alright alright” the older man joked and held out a mic to Viktor.

“So everyone knows, she’s asked me what scared us the most on sets” Viktor translated as the girls hands moved quickly. “She says the dragons seemed scary.”

“Well I wasn’t a fan of all the bugs” Mel spoke up, her smile wide and fond as well as Viktor quickly signed for her. “But the dragons were quite scary after hours in the dark on set.”

“I’m not a fan of the swimming scenes,” Silco admitted, crouching down next to Viktor. “I had to get my stunt double Alec to do a lot of those scenes for me.”

“She says water can be scary and you were brave for trying” Viktor watched her hands move as she looked at Silco with a sweet smile.

“Why thank you sweetheart.” Silco smiled gently.

“As for me, well I now have a fear of heights and falling” Viktor chuckled sadly, referencing back to his accident. “But before that it was the horses, one tried to bite my fingers once and never again!” He seemed to joke to lighten back up the mood.

Viktor and the little girl seemed to sign a little more before her time for her question was up. The crowd clapped loudly as it was instructed that was going to be the last question for the panel. Silco quickly moved to help Viktor back up into his feet, the leg brace not making it easy. There was a subtle flash and you could almost miss it but judging by the set of Viktors jaw he was in pain. Seeming to hover, Silco helped the younger man back to his seat before being waved off.

[nikethestatue]

Honestly, despite all the misogynistic uterus theories, I believe Elain’s powers are tied to life itself, which grants her the ability to bear any child with ease. Also it’s a fantasy series, anything could happen lmfao

My biggest pet peeve is always illogical arguments.

If you are going to argue something, please make sense. Do you really think that SJM mated Feysand, and Nessian (and probably Elriel), and somehow, none of them were meant to have children? Because the 3 dudes are all Illyrians with wings.

OR, was it just a plot device for Nesta to give back her stolen powers to the Cauldron and save Feyre?

And we know that this plot point was only pertinent and important to ACOSF.

It will literally never come up again. Or, it will be like, here is this book that we didn't find before and it explains everything about how to avoid injury during an Illyrian/Fae birth. It's been hidden by the Daglan to discourage intermarriage between the Illyrians and High Fae because it diluted High Fae magic.

Boom. Done.

The fact that this is the hill people are willing to die on, fucking hurts my brain.

[lost-locket-antiques]

Finally had the want to redraw my characters from Blood of the Halfbreed (my very first story from this universe and the reason I started creating original works to begin with) and really got around do putting them all together, as they’re supposed to be a team, so I’d think they should look good together. This is their civilian forms (as I haven’t made their “magical girl” uniforms quite yet), and from left to right we have Malakei Wenreidr (mahl-ah-keye vehn-reye-der), Jazchuhan “Jazch” Falin (yahsh-oo-hahn fah-leen), Kari Erikzün (kah-ree ehr-eek-zuhn), and Zera Wenreidr (zeh-rah).

These 4 all go to the same college, and are part of the same band “Blood of the Halfbreed”, started by Malakei, Jazch, and Zera, as the vocals, guitar, and drums respectively. Kari later joined the group after Zera tried to befriend and convince her to join, becoming the 4th and final member, playing the cello.

Malakei is what I would call a “Christian hippie”, or more correctly, an “Inani hippie”, as those moth earrings and necklace have the same meaning as the cross does in our world. He’s an Orcish-Hume halfbreed, meaning his bio-dad was an Orc, and his mother is a Hume. He’s a goofy guy, how tries his best to make everyone smile, and while he may seem like he would be a slacker when it came to school, he’s actually extremely studious. He want’s to become a broadway composer, and is going to school for music theory.

Jazch is a Gnomish-Elf halfbreed, with his father being a Gnome and his mother an Elf. This man **hates** how feminine his body and face is, so he turned into a bit of a gym rat when he started going to college, and his temper is about as short as he is. He, Malakei, and technically Zera have been friends since they were little, and really only went to college because they wanted to. That’s okay, though, since that means he can specifically study cooking. While he never had any interest in going to school for it, ha had always wanted to own his own restaurant. Good thing he has the same personality of s certain Scottish chief, eh?

Kari is an alchemist, through and through. To the point that before meeting the gang, she was the type of person to say that “feeling were just chemicals in your brain, nothing more”. Unlike Mal, Jazch, and Zera, Kari is a pretty stanch atheist, that felt like life would improve if they had just gotten rid of the idea of gods and religion all together. Not quite a reddit atheist, but on the very cusp, and it wasn’t until she met the gang, and how happy they were, that she started to question that certain theory of hers. And especially started questioning when she started to fall for Malakei. She’s a hard worker, with a bit of a stutter, and is willing to stand for what she believes in, but is also willing to be proven wrong. Especially when it comes to the ways of the heart.

Zera is the popular girl of the group, and Jazch’s girlfriend. It’s not the first thing I would tell you about her, but it’s the first thing she’d want to be said, as she loves that man more than anything in the would. To the point, that if he’s in the room, she’ll go straight for him and tackle him with love and affection (he doesn’t mind it really, as he loves her dearly, but he will mutter about how she’s being too lovey in public… it does make him feel like a strong man tho, which is nice). The second thing that she’d want you to know is that she’s a gunsmith, specifically for the creation, and decoration of firearms for women, by women. She has always been a gun nut, but the problem was she had always felt as if women see the firearm scene as a boys club, and she plans on fixing that. By making firearms that are appealing to the feminine gaze. She also happens to be half blind. That doesn’t stop her though, as she’s willing to do some crazy stuff just so that she can reach her dream.

This is literally just the basic explanation of these characters, I haven’t even gotten to the magical girl stuff yet, or what I want the story to be, so, ah, enjoy this at least lol