#but yeah he gives me feelings of dread mostly

[eggmeralda]

if I had a nickel for everytime a funny little guy from an album cover by a band I don't regularly listen to evoked something vague and unknown in my soul and haunted my thoughts during late january/early february, I would have two nickels

[strang3lov3]

Fighting Fair

Joel doesn’t know what or who started this fucking thing, but he’s finishing it. Tonight.

Tags: impish activities, soft dom!joel sorta aggressive joel, forced proximity, cock grinding, fingering, unprotected piv, creampie (always), teasing, dirty talk, almost somnophilia (they’re sleep-teasing each other unconsciously) sexually frustrated morons, good ol' fashioned "we have to get naked and share body heat to stay warm" trope

A/N: I had to drag myself kicking and screaming into writing this fic that put me through the fucking ringer!!! Thank you @theywhowriteandknowthings @merz-8 and @beefrobeefcal for the general fic help and encouragement! And I think also @noxturnalpascal and @tightjeansjavi and ESPECIALLY @notjustjavierpena who talked me through this fic a couple weeks ago and gave me the push I needed to finish it when I was stuck. You guys all rock ❤️

It’s too cold tonight, even indoors and with a fire burning. He moved the large sectional couch as close as he could safely get it by the fireplace, gave you his jacket, and you’re still hoarding the blanket. Joel tries to gently tug on the blanket that you’ve wrapped around your body, see if maybe you can spare to lose a few inches of fabric. You don’t budge. Joel sighs, “Y’can share, ya know.”

“This is sharing.”

“It’s not, actually. I’m the one sharin’ here. I gave you my coat, you can quit hoggin’ all the blanket,” Joel tugs harder on the blanket, it’s old and kind of scratchy, worn out by the years. “C’mon. Let up.” 

“You can have this much,” You mumble, giving Joel a small amount of the fabric. 

“How generous of you,” Joel mutters sarcastically before pulling the blanket entirely off of your shoulders. “Thank you. S’very kind.”

“Hey,” you whine. 

“Yeah, I know,” he says. He covers his body in the blanket, making sure to cover your legs and feet as well. His hands brush over your own and he winces at their ice cold temperature. “Jesus, girl. Gimme these,” he mumbles, taking your hands into his own and holding them tightly. “Hands feel like icicles.”

“This fucking sucks, Joel,” you complain. 

“It does,” he agrees. Joel’s been dreading this point in the year. He’s eased up on his ‘no fires’ rule for the most part, but fire doesn’t help when it’s as cold as it has been. Tonight, he’s grateful you spotted this old house from afar, even more grateful it has a fireplace. But it’s especially cold tonight, maybe even nearing below zero temperatures. Even with a glowing fire and a shelter preventing the chill of the wind piercing you to the bone, he’s not sure that’s enough to keep you both warm. Joel shivers, “This shit’s not workin’.”

You shake your head no. It’s not. 

Joel’s not quite sure how to offer up his idea. It’ll be fine, or at least, it should be fine. What needs to happen is you and Joel need to get cozy and share body heat, the real way, with both of your bodies completely bare and pressed against each other.

Most of the time, you and Joel fall asleep separately. Occasionally, however, Joel will wake up in the early hours of the morning with your body inexplicably tangled in his, your head laying on his chest. The first time it happened, Joel was annoyed. “Get off of me,” he grumbled. “Not your fuckin’ teddy bear,” You whined in response, and when Joel tried to move you from him you clung to his body tighter. “Jesus,” he mumbled to himself. 

After about the fifth or sixth time of waking up with you clinging to his body, he stopped trying to fight it. In fact, he even started to hold you closer, stroke your hair. Sometimes he’d wake up holding you, other times he’d wake up with your arms wrapped around him and your tummy pressed against his back. It was nice, mostly. 

Mostly. You have the most uncanny ability to tease Joel in your sleep. Your hand will mysteriously travel from his side up to his chest, your thumb rubbing over his nipple. Other times, it’s your leg that brushes against his crotch. Or your ass, wiggling against his morning wood. After you wake, he’ll leave you alone for a few moments to quietly take care of himself, stroking his member to the thought of your naked body, your soft curves and smooth skin. Sometimes he’s not able to sneak away in the mornings and he’ll be hard as a rock and miserable the entire day. It’s unbearably frustrating. He’s never brought this tendency of yours up to you and he never will, because you’re not doing anything intentionally, at least he thinks. Though, there was one time after a particularly excruciating night of teasing, he thought he saw you smirk as he left to take care of himself. It was probably nothing. 

That’s what he’s worried about. Your body, naked against his, teasing him. His arousal won’t be so easy to hide without the protection of clothing, not to mention he may not even be able to fall asleep. It’s not gonna be an easy night, but it’s the only option at this point. 

Joel clears his throat, “We’re gonna try somethin’ different tonight,” he starts, “An’ we’re not gonna talk about it. Ever.”

“Okay,” you say, unsure of where he’s going with this. 

“You trust me?” he asks. You nod. “Good,” he says, “We’re gonna share our body heat. An’ it works better with skin to skin contact, which means we’re both gonna get naked and close under the blanket, but we’re not gonna talk about it. Not tonight, not ever. Can you do this?”

“I can,” you tell him. You’re not totally surprised by Joel’s idea, but you’re glad he was the one who brought it up. Truthfully, it’s been something you’ve been thinking of doing with him for quite some time now, since the weather’s been getting so cold. You’ve pictured it, rubbing your bare feet against his legs for some warmth. He’ll probably kick you away, complain that he’s cold too. You’ll tell him too bad. 

“Okay,” he mumbles awkwardly, “Okay, s’good. I’m gonna turn around and get to it then, f’ya wanna…” 

“Yeah, got it.”

You and Joel separate, he places the blanket at his end of the couch as he begins to unbutton his flannel. You remove his coat from your body then shimmy off your pants, leaving them crumpled on the floor. You catch a glimpse of Joel’s back, the firelight dancing on his toned and broad muscles, the scars and stretch marks decorating his skin like art. Quickly, you avert your eyes and begin to remove your shirt. You don’t notice Joel stealing a peek at your body, the blush creeping up his cheeks when he sees your bare breasts. 

“Ready?”

“Mhm,” you mumble, but you’re anxious. You’re not sure how it happens, but you’ve been waking up with Joel here and there. Sometimes you wake up in the middle of the night with his limbs inexplicably wrapped around you, his chin resting on your head. The first time it happened, you were confused. You tried to shrug him off of you, but Joel only held you tighter, sleepily mumbling in an annoyed tone. 

After about the fourth or fifth time of waking up with him holding your body, you stopped trying to fight it. In fact, you’d back yourself into him, even scratch his forearms to relax him. There’d be times you’d wake up being spooned by him, other times you’d wake up spooning him, with your arms wrapped around him and your tummy pressed against his back. It’s nice, mostly. 

Mostly. Joel has this inexplicable habit of teasing you in his sleep. His hand will mysteriously travel from your side up to your breasts, his thumb catching on your nipples and rubbing them softly. Other times, he presses his cock against your ass, nudging you and gently grinding against your ass. When you wake, you find somewhere quiet to touch yourself, rubbing your clit to the thought of his body, his warm eyes, the groaning noises he’ll make when he stretches in the morning. Sometimes in the mornings, you can’t sneak away and you’ll be soaked all day, miserable as your core pulses and aches for him. It’s god awful, unbearably frustrating. But you’ve never brought this tendency of his up to him and you never will, because he’s not doing anything intentionally, at least you think. Though, there was one time after a particularly excruciating night of him teasing your nipples, you felt him touch you a little more intensely, like there could have been conscious thought behind the action. It was probably nothing. 

This is what you’re worried about. His body, naked against yours, teasing you. It’s gonna be a difficult night, but you know it’s the only option.

Joel reaches for the blanket, spreads it out as he inches back towards you on the couch. “You can lay on your side like that, facin’ the fire,” he offers, and you follow his suggestion. Joel slots himself behind you and tucks the blanket around both of your bodies, then pulls you closer to his body. “Yeah, good girl. You got it. M’gonna hold you tight like this,” he tells you. 

Good girl. His words send desire flooding your veins. Sweet talking in your ear, his hands holding you close and tight. God, this is trouble. 

“Just need to scoot a little closer, like–” you back your ass into his crotch, “M’just so cold, Joel.”

Fuck. Joel can feel his growing arousal pressing against your ass. “I know you are, hon, just–don’t move like that on me,” He keeps you as close as he can against your body, pressing the length of his arm against your torso to keep you warm. His hand brushes against your breasts, thumb caressing your nipple. You gasp. 

“Need you closer, though,” you mumble, wiggling against his crotch once more. His length hardens fully, prodding against your ass. His breath hitches, “Ignore it,” he grumbles, now annoyed. How many hints does he have to drop? Or are you doing this shit on purpose?

You’re annoyed too, honestly. He’s not directly groping you, but his fingertips have not left your nipples, lightly grazing over them and setting your skin on fire. Do you need to spell it out for him, what he’s doing to you? Surely it’s intentional on his end. Has to be.  

There’s a moment where you’re quiet and so is Joel, both of you tired and confused and sexually frustrated with the other. Maybe you’re looking for a fight, but something’s gotta give. Fuck it, you’ll be the one to instigate. “Ignore what, Joel?” you ask, voice incredulous and laced with sarcasm. 

“I’m–my–fuck,” Joel stammers. He feels your body move with your stifled giggles. “Knock it off.”

“It’s all for me, isn’t it Joel?”

“Dammit, just–shut up,” Joel stiffens as he feels his face and neck begin to warm. “And mind your business. S’not for you. S’not for anyone,” he lies, cringing internally for his defensiveness, definitely overcompensating. He rolls his eyes, knowing he was right. Five minutes into sharing body heat with you and it is not going well at all. You twist your hips once more. “I said ignore it,” he grumbles, his hand finding your hip and holding it firmly in place. “Not rub your ass on it. Now sit still. You’re testin’ my patience.”

“I can’t help it, Joel. I’m just trying to get comfortable,” you lie. 

“Yeah, whatever. You’re gettin’ me in trouble is what you’re doing. Now for the love of god, quit it.”

Ten minutes go by without an incident, and Joel is focusing on trying to sleep with your naked body pressed against his. He’s certainly beginning to warm up but at what cost? He’s breathing in your scent, feeling your warm skin under his hand, which is hard enough to deal with. And then you fucking do it again, because his fingers are still lightly touching your sensitive nipples. “What did I just say?” Joel flips you on your other side so you’re facing him, then holds your jaw between his fingers. “Look at me,” he tells you. “Knock it off. Quit your squirmin’, quit wigglin’ your ass on my–” You can’t hide the grin that forms on your lips at his accusation. You purse your lips in an attempt to hide the amusement you’ve garnered from your payback, but Joel sees it. “Why’re you fuckin’ with me?”

“Me?”

“Yes, you. You know exactly what you’re doin’. Why are you fuckin’ with me?” 

You shrug, “You started it.”

“I never fuckin’ know what you’re talkin’ about,” Joel complains through a deep sigh, exasperated.

“The teasing,” you explain, “You snuggle me and end up teasing me, playing with my tits and whatnot. You know what you do,” you accuse, “So I’m getting you back. Fair’s fair.”

“So you get worked up and you retaliate by givin’ me a hard on. Charming,” Joel grumbles, “And you’re one to talk about wanderin’ hands. Do you know how many times I’ve woken up with your hands in places they shouldn’t have been? Shouldn’t even be fuckin’ sleepin’ together.”

“You never complained about it before,” you retort, referring to the accidental snuggles that take place between Joel and yourself. 

Joel wears a confused expression for a moment, then glares at you. He narrows his eyes at you, completely misunderstanding what you meant. In his head, he’s thinking that you’ve just admitted all of that accidental teasing–it has been fucking intentional on your part. He knew it! “Before? You’re tellin’ me this is a hobby of yours?” he spits, “I knew you had ulterior motives with that late night cuddlin’ of yours. You’ve been gettin’ me hot an’ bothered on purpose, haven’t you?”

You sigh, “No, I’m talking about—” and then you realize, if Joel thinks you’ve been intentionally getting him worked up all this time, he’s been doing the same shit to you to retaliate. “Only because you did it to me first,” you accuse. 

Joel scoffs. “I don’t believe this,” he scoffs, “I don’t care who started it, I’m finishin’ it right now.”

Your heart pounds as desire pools in your gut, a warm, sticky feeling. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talkin about,” Joel whispers in your ear, his hot breath tickling your skin. “I’m gettin’ you out of my system once and for all. You’re fuckin’ ridiculous. We’re done with this.”

Joel shifts his arm, reaching for his cock. You watch as he wraps his palm around his member, thumb swiping over his red and swollen tip. His soft belly bulges against his arm that’s pressed tightly against himself as he strokes his member slowly, patiently. When you reach for his cock to replace his hand with your own, you’re in disbelief as he swats your hand away. “Joel,” you whine, confused.

“Was never really teasin’ ya, by the way. Think you’re a little selective in that way. Seein’ and hearin’ what you want to.” Joel accuses in a gentle tone as he continues to massage himself, “And even if I was, you don’t fight fair.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means, sweetheart, all that shit you do to me, I’m gonna do right back to you,” Joel reaches for your leg, grabs the back of your knee and hikes your leg over his hip, pulling you closer and exposing your pussy to him. “Not going to go easy on you sweetheart, you sure you want this?” he asks, giving you an out. But you nod anyway, your tummy fluttering with desire as your mind begins to race, wondering exactly how he’ll retaliate after being pent up like this for so long. “Good,” he says. 

Holding his cock in his hand, he guides the tip to your center, collecting the slick pooling at your entrance and taps the thick head against your clit. He pulls you closer and begins to drag himself through your folds. “Joel,” you gasp, “What are you doing?”

“Tryin’ out your modus operandi,” he breathes. “Isn’t this whatcha were just doin’? Rubbin’ up on me?”

“I wasn’t–mmmm,” you hum as he continues to rub the head of his cock against you, “Wasn’t like this.”

“You’re full of shit,” Joel groans as goes up and down, up and down, notching his tip ever so quickly inside of you to gather your increasing arousal and dragging it through your folds, paying special attention to your clit. You’re pulsing, clenching around nothing as he teases you agonizingly. “You’re makin’ a fuckin’ mess. S’all for me, isn’t it?” he taunts you, using your words from earlier. “God, you don’t take much at all. Soakin’ me, sweetheart.”

He notches his tip inside you to collect your wetness once more and you cry out, “Just fuck me.”

“You’re not gettin’ it,” he breathes, “Told ya, you’re gettin’ your comeuppance.”

You feel like you’re gonna burst. He rubs the head of his cock over your clit in circles, listening to your whines of displeasure when he pulls away from you to focus on his own pleasure. When presses himself against you again, he focuses his tip only at your clit, your slick helping him to slide up and down with ease. When he begins to roll his hips for added pressure, you bite into his shoulder to contain your cries. This is agonizing and so fucking delicious all at the same time. 

You adjust your hips, simultaneously reaching for Joel’s cock to guide him to your entrance. You need him now. “C’mon, now. You mind your manners,” he chides you, “S’not any way to get what ya want.”

“Please, just fuck–need you inside me.” 

“Sure thing,” he says in a honeyed tone. He replaces his cock with his fingers, leisurely dragging them through your slick folds before dipping first one, then two fingers inside you. He finds that delicious spot inside you, but curls his fingers lazily, not yet providing you with what you need. You’re throbbing, aching, hungry for more. 

“Joel, not–”

“Shoulda been more specific, then,” he interrupts. Bastard. When you try to argue, Joel flips you on your back and guides his cock to your entrance, notching his tip in you again, this time not leaving. You whine eagerly, wrapping your legs around him and pressing your feet into his ass, trying to pull him closer. You need him inside you, now.

“Not all at once,” Joel purrs as he enters you at a glacial pace. He pushes inside you gradually, letting you feel every inch of him, stopping momentarily to adjust the blanket over his shoulders to keep both of your bodies enveloped in warmth. Joel bottoms out inside of you and pulls back out, then enters you again, so fucking slowly. You’re not sure how he manages to tease you while fucking you, but he’s doing it. You just need more, need it faster, harder, more. You reach for your clit, but Joel pins both of your hands under one of his own as he fucks into you. Tears of frustration begin to build in your eyes. “You can cry all you want, sweetheart,” he coos, “You made your bed. We’re not done with this yet,” he continues, “But, maybe if ya sweet talk me, apologize for startin’ somethin’ you couldn’t finish…”

“M’sorry, Joel,” you apologize quickly. All your fire, your mischief, Joel’s now extinguished like a flame.

“I knew you’d be sorry,” Joel murmurs. Knowing how badly you need to release, Joel snakes his other hand between your thighs and circles your sensitive clit with his thumb ever so lightly. Torturing you, taunting you with what you could have and never giving you more. 

He’s fucking you at a steady pace now, the tip of his cock brushing against your g-spot. It’s not enough. The wet, gushing sounds of your cunt and the way Joel’s skin feels against yours has you feeling dizzy. Joel’s savoring the way you’re squirming under him, straining your wrists against his locked grip. He knows you’re aching for release, but he’s determined to teach you a lesson, even if that means torturing himself. 

Yes, as pleasurable as this is for Joel to watch you fuck around and find out, it’s misery for him too. Fucking his fist with the tip of his cock kissing your pussy was no easy task, and neither is holding back from how he truly wants to fuck you. Because, truthfully, he wants to fucking ruin you. Show you just what he thinks of these stunts you’ve been pulling. Show you just what he thinks of your wandering hands and your innocent ‘adjustments’.

“Please,” you gasp, “Just make me come, Joel.”

“Yeah, I don’t know. M’not feelin’ particularly generous at the moment.”

“Please,” you whine, “Been needing y–this for so long.” 

“Ahhh,” Joel hums, “And the truth comes out,” he groans as he rolls his hips against you, “S’that what all of this is about? Been needin’ me?” you nod quickly, “Tell me how long you’ve been needing me.”

“Fuck, Joel, I don’t know. Forever,” you cry, “I need to come now, please. Need to come on your cock, fuck.”

“F’ya said somethin’ earlier instead of toyin’ with me like you’ve been doin’, we wouldn’t be in this mess, sweetheart.”

You don’t know how much more you can take. Tears of frustration trail down your cheeks, each of his thrusts hitting deep and massaging your insides, intentionally, powerfully. 

Joel’s right there with you, struggling as well. He wants nothing more than to keep fucking you without allowing you to finish, having never seen anything before so erotic and beautiful as your squirming, writhing body. Your soft body, those sweet noises, that frustrated face of yours. And it’s all at his hands, he’s the one  responsible for turning into this mess. 

“Fuck,” he whispers through a shuddering breath, “Not gonna–”

“Joel,” you cry, the only word you know anymore being his name.

“Let’s be done with this,” he decides, fucking finally. He circles your clit steadily now, finding a pace and a pressure that has you letting out breathy gasps and moans as your orgasm approaches. “Want you to come for me,” he says.

His words are all you need. That warm, sticky feeling in the pit of your stomach builds quickly and releases almost instantaneously, sending pleasure erupting through your veins. You feel it everywhere, the back of your thighs, deep in your gut. Wave after wave of pleasure rocks your body as Joel’s thrusts quicken as he fucks you at a now frenzied, sloppy pace he chases his own release. 

“Fuck,” he hisses, coming with a deep, stuttering moan of your name. His muscles jerk and tremble as his cock pulses inside you, painting your insides with thick ropes of his spend. He pulls out of you groaning, his hot, slick release making your thighs sticky. He places a gentle kiss to your lips and then to your forehead, the action a stark contrast to his previous demeanor. All's right with the world now. Sexual frustration solved.

He takes his place behind you again, pulling you close to his chest for the last time and making sure the blanket is covering you both. You’re certainly warmed up now. A little too warm, even. But you’re not complaining. 

“Still not talkin’ about tonight,” Joel reminds you, “Ever.”

“Nope,” you agree.

Another quiet moment passes. For shits and giggles, you rub your ass against his crotch. “But I take it we’ll be doin’ this again, won’t we?” he says, defeated as you continue to tease him.

“Definitely.”

“Good god,” Joel sighs, “Get back over here, then. You drive me fuckin’ nuts,” he adds, pulling you back for round two. He was right, it’s a long night ahead of him.

[peachesofteal]

Through Me (The Flood) - secret baby fic Simon Riley / female reader - 18+ mdni explicit content, daddy + breeding kink

"Are you happy?"

The heat of your back bleeds into his chest, back of your head tipping towards his neck.

"Yes." The sapphire gleams, setting sun casting a glitter of rays through it, illuminating the deep sea gemstone like true light itself.

He's tried to make it right. Put it all back together. He's taken it painstakingly slow, going as far as sleeping on the couch when he was released from hospital, though it didn't stop you from padding over to him in the middle of the night and poking him in the chest until he woke up and followed you back to bed.

"Stop doing that," you mumbled into his chest, eyes already shut again, "I don't want you on the couch."

"I want you to be comfortable-"

"I am comfortable. With you in our bed. Not out there where I can't feel you." Your voice broke on the admission, his lips pressed to your forehead. "I need you to be here."

"I am. I'm here, mama. I'm here."

The dawn of it all felt so far away, so many times, but when it finally broke, a too long darkness was swept away.

"I love you," you whispered, "You can't ever do that again."

"We'll take precautions next time, Price and I discussed-"

"No... not precautions. There can't be a next time, Simon. I need you to come home to us. In one piece. You can't ever... I was scared we were going to lose you."

"You'd never." He rubed your back, pace too quick to be considered soothing, and you burrowed closer.

"So, you can't get hurt like that, again. Promise me."

Days turned to weeks, the incident turning to dust in the back of your mind, still lurking in his. He sees it in his nightmares, in waking moments, horror beyond belief sticking to his bones. It affects him so deeply, all he can do is turn to your comfort.

"Look at me," you cupped his cheek astride his waist, your nightie rucked up around your hips. You're soaked, wet cunt leaking on him, desire burning from when he had two fingers inside of you a few minutes ago. "Don't go there. Stay with me. Be here, with me."

"I am." He tried to reassure, but you shook your head.

"You're not." You pulled him free from his boxers, notching him at the opening of your pussy before lowering yourself, sheathing him inside you entirely. He groans.

"Christ." You moaned in response, his little kitten on his lap. It's a lot to take at this angle and he gripped your hips, fingers digging into the curves of your flesh there. 

"Simon." Your lips found his, and held you there, held you tight, memorizing the feel of his home. 

"You seem... distracted." In truth, he was. He was dreading going back to work now that he was mostly healed, miserable about the idea of leaving you and Orion. It was pulling his focus away from being in the moments here with the two of you, his family. "Simon?" 

"Sorry, mama." He dots kisses up your neck to your jaw, and you arch against him, ass pressing against where his cock hardens under his sweatpants. 

"Come on." He doesn't argue when you pull him into the bedroom, checking to make sure Orion is still asleep, before you lay down on the bed, underwear gone, turned on your side with a lazy smile. 

It's everything he could ever want. You're everything. 

His mind strays, a different direction this time, reaching for a dream, a vision of you pregnant, full of him, growing his baby. It poisons his blood, and he grinds his teeth, tucking you against him, hand splayed over your belly before venturing down through your curls, sticky and wet already, your pussy swollen for him. "Is this for me honey?" 

"Yeah." You breathe, jerking as his thumb grazes your clit. 

"Poor kitten." He taps, pulling a groan from your throat. "Are you aching? Need daddy to take care of you?" 

"Yes daddy, please." Your hold on his forearm is steel, and he smiles into your neck. 

"I want to give you another baby, honey." He shifts, rolling you onto your belly and knocking your knees aside, your face turned towards him with a dazed expression. "I want to be here this time," he pushes inside, walls tight around his cock. "See your belly grow," he thrusts again, your little gasps getting louder as he works into a rhythm, "be here for everything." You're still on birth control, he knows that, but the fantasy is too strong, and he's desperate to turn it into a reality. 

This time can be for practice. 

"Fuck-" Your hips push back against him, meeting his movements, desperate in a pursuit. 

"Do you want it mama? Want daddy to fuck another baby into you?" You rise to your knees and he follows, draping himself over your back. You don't answer right away, head thrown back, loud moan ripping from your mouth. 

"I- I... yeah-" Green light, his mind screams, reaching between your legs to pinch your clit. 

"You're such a good girl," he coos, "so good, gonna fill you up." 

"P-please." You're close to your orgasm now, pussy squeezing, tightening around his cock like a fucking vice, and his muscles go rigid, trying to fight off his own. 

"Come for me then, come on my cock and I'll give it to you." Your an answer is an explosion, heat pulsing around him, dragging him into it, the two of you falling together. 

Afterwards, you turn over, and blink owlishly at him. 

"Do you... was that-" He cups your cheek. 

"Yeah, honey. It was." 

[moonstruckme]

tasm peter parker or james potter x anxious ! reader ??? i literally get so stressed and anxious at night that my heart starts beating rapidly and i can’t do anything let alone sleep 😭😭😭😭 wishing that i wasn’t all alone in this and had some company, but we can imagine ! 😭

Thank for requesting lovely

cw: symptoms of anxiety

tasm!Peter Parker x fem!reader ♡ 628 words

Peter’s hand stopped moving on your back a while ago. It now lays flat just below your left shoulder blade. You wonder if he can feel your heartbeat from back there. 

“Wanna try some more breaths?” he asks. His voice is soft with drowsiness. 

You inhale slowly, mostly in the hopes that your boyfriend will think you’re calming and he’ll fall asleep. But really, the achey, dissatisfying stretch of your lungs only makes you feel your thundering heartbeat more acutely. Every time you realize how much it hurts, it’s like an invisible boa constrictor wraps tighter around your chest. 

Peter starts rubbing your back again. 

“I don’t think this is sustainable,” you murmur. “You should go to sleep.” 

“What, and leave you by yourself?” he scoffs lightly. Your stomach sinks. If he was approaching sleep, you’ve brought him back. “Not a chance. But if you think it’s not working, we could watch a movie or something.” 

“No,” you say, though it does sound nice. The past couple of nights, you and Peter have cuddled up on the couch with a movie, and when you eventually get tired enough to fall asleep he brings you to bed. It works great for you; the catch is that then he’s the one staying up. 

It’s something about being in your bed, you think. It’s not an inherently unrelaxing place, but when you get into bed at night, the lights off and your home silent, suddenly dread is gripping you like a vice. Your thoughts go where you can’t stop them—you’re hardly quick enough to keep up at all—and before you know what’s happened your heart’s rattling your ribcage like it wants out and your eyes are glossy wet. 

“I don’t think it’s not working,” you tell him now, trying not to sound too hopeless, “I just don’t think it’s realistic for you to spend every night putting me to sleep like an infant.” 

Peter huffs a laugh. “C’mon, don’t be so fussy,” he teases. You pull back a little just so you can glare at him through the darkness. You’re pretty sure he can see you with that super vision of his, yet he chooses to ignore it. “You still wanna be my baby, right?” 

You try to groan, but a little bit of laugh makes it through. “Gross. Not like that.” 

“Yeah, I know.” Your boyfriend chuckles, encouraging you to do the same. Though it’s a begrudging sound, it does loosen something in your chest ever so slightly. “But hey, I don’t mind staying up with you. The anxiety is around going to sleep, right?” 

You hum. 

“Then we’ll give you some new feelings around going to sleep.” Peter leans forward, dropping a kiss on the top of your head. He says it like it’s easy. Like it’s a foregone conclusion, and even if it’s not he’ll just start trying the next thing. “We can do this. I’d rather be awake with you than asleep without you anyways.” 

You burrow in close to his chest. You can hear his heartbeat, steady and about twice as slow as yours. “That sounds like a cheesy line you got from a romcom,” you say, your voice inlaid with fondness. 

“Yeah, Sleepless in Seattle.” 

“Really?”

“Nope. Never seen it.” Peter gives your shoulder a firm scrub, and you can practically sense his smile as he lays another kiss on your head. “But it makes what we’re doing seem pretty romantic, huh?” 

If you asked the people who directed those movies, they’d probably be able to think of a million more romantic things you could be doing with your boyfriend than laying still in bed, whispering to each other and trying to outlast frantic thoughts. But to you, right now, it does seem pretty good. 

[venmondiese]

Anxiety Relieving Purposes

✧ part 1: stress relieving purposes ✧

Summary: Exam week has arrived so you have a another brilliant idea for you and Aemond. Seeing him full of dread and anxiety, you think of the best way of calming him.

✧Pairing: Modern!Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Reader ✧Warnings: MDNI 18+, p in v sex, free use, public sex, oral sex (m receiving), no protection, creampie, slight breeding kink, slight (not so slight) size kink, fingering, aemond being a tease. ✧Word Count: 6.7k ✧Note: so..... aemond's exam is fully here!! and all the things he studied are things that I AM studying at the moment so yeah #studying and writing. I have weeks FULL of things, and may seems (at the moment) very empty, so I will try to work on my wips there!!

The day of the famous exam, Aemond was outside the classroom, as he waited for his name to be called. His turn was near at 16:15 pm, so he came with anticipation, as the professor asked for them to wait in case a space was available for whatever reason. 

14:01, his expensive watch said. It was his grandfather’s, and he asked his father to give it to him, ignoring the fact that he conveniently asked when his father was high on medications, but that was another thing. He even wore that seven pointed star necklace his mum gave to him, so the Gods may be with him. 

This class was brutal, and he knew it. He knew very well when he enrolled with this particular professor. It was hard, but you learnt everything. And he, the pretentious ambitious little shit that he was, did it willingly. 

He should have listened to you. Your exam? To start, it wasn’t even oral like this one, and you could take your notes to the exams, because it was mostly rational and analytical thinking. Have you learned much? No, but you were passing.

And it wasn’t like he got bad grades, in fact he was one of the brilliant few people in the class. The thing is that this particular exam was valued at 40% whereas the rest of papers and exams were barely over 15%. If someone failed this one it was the end. 

He took a drag of his cigarette, leaning over the open window of the hallway, so the smell of cigarette wasn’t so evident. He wanted to do this oral exam as quickly as possible, so he was waiting like a vulture around the classroom.

When a single hand covers his only functioning eye, he sighs as he smokes, rolling his eye under your hand.

“Guess who!” It is your animated voice, and even without saying anything, he’d know it was you.

“You little shit” He says, taking your hand off. “You really just covered one of my eyes?”

As he turns, he sees you holding a bucket of fried chicken, and he has to smirk. 

“Well, I had to hold your lunch with the other hand, duh.” You say smugly, almost proud of this little surprise for him. “You know that five cigarettes do not count as lunch?”

“It does when you are anxious. And about to throw up” He adds, as he looks a bit at the closed door of the auditory, and he sighs. 

Your smug smile softens, and you leave the bucket of food on the near table, and you wrap your arms around him, as he decides to kill his cigarette on the ashtray, to wrap his arms around you as well.

“You’ll do fine” You whisper, assuring him of it. “And the professor will be so surprised that he’ll stand up and do a public ovation for you” You add teasingly. 

“That’s so…” He says giggling at the idea, his tight stomach feels more at ease at your silly jokes. “Stupid”

“It is in the future.” You say, convinced “And he’ll immediately give you a doctorate, and then you’ll work and maintain me, of course.” 

He chuckles amused, rubbing you back as he looks where your chin rests against his chest, looking up to him. “And I’ll do that willingly? Oh gods, maybe I’ll fail the exam, then”

You laugh as you hit the side of his left rib, and he tightens his embrace slightly.

“I’ll pay you well” You say nodding.

“How so?”

“I’ll clean the house, and I’ll be your pretty maid which from occasion to occasion sucks your dick”

“I think I'll be better if you become my personal sex slave” he whispers with a smug smirk, and he feels your hand slapping the side of his rib again. “Because you are already my slut, no?”

“Imbecile. And look at me, buying you lunch. Fried chicken, the spicy one that you like.” You add the last thing, separating from his hug as you cross your arms. “Men are disgusting, they want only one thing” You dramatise as he laughs at your words.

“Fine, fine… we’ll eat the fried chicken. You’ll feed me yourself?”

“You are insane if you think…” Your voice trails off as you see how his smile fades and he tilts his head to watch the students leaving the auditory.

You turn to watch the scene, a girl clearly crying as she makes her way to the bathroom. Baela comes out of the classroom, slightly defeated, with another student. One of the assistants of the professor closes the door, so they discuss the answers immediately. 

Aemond walks hushedly next to Baela, as you grab the bucket to follow him. You can see how his body is tense, walking hushedly and full of anxiety.

“How did it go?” Aemond joins the conversation as Baela is the first of the group to get out, and you see Cregan and Jace get close too, along with other fellow students.

“It fucked me” Baela admits shaking her head.

You can feel the anxiety along the group, and you stand next to Aemond, looking at him as he places a hand on his mouth as if to think what the hell and how the fuck he will get over this.

“What did they ask you?” You dare to ask.

“ How biopower by Foucault could relationate with Deleuze and Guattari’s… notion of desiring-production, how the concepts contribute to the understanding of modern forms of governance and subjectivity as seen in class.” She says and everyone looked extremely horrified by the question itself. 

“Holy fuck” Jace mutters.

“And Moeria? What about her? She left crying..” Cregan says as he looks at Baela.

 “ How Foucault’s disciplinary power intersects with Judith Butler’s performativity? With examples from each perspective and respective works… and how they work together, something like that”

“That was easy!” Aemond says, frustrated, because he wasn’t the one to get that question. You see how his own hand starts picking on his cuticles, and breaking his nails in anxiousness.

“Fucking Foucault…” Jace murmurs as he sighs horrified. 

You can see how Aemond’s hand trembled slightly, he was as well horrified. He’d told you, there were only 40 questions, randomly selected. He had to study hard, read like five books just to get asked one question. And when the easiest left, only the hard ones left for the ones at the very end.

“Let’s eat” You say, taking his hand, and he looks at you, with uncertainty in his eyes, as he nods slightly. He was anxious, you could see. “Destroying your hands won’t leave you at ease… Food might” You add with a gentle smile.

He nodded, sighing as he was tired. You exchanged slight awkward looks with Cregan as he waved his hand to you and you smiled politely, before walking away with Aemond. 

“I could have answered that one…” He whines as you two walk downstairs to eat. “It was far too easy. You wanna know why?”

“Why?” You ask just to leave him let all out. 

“If you add Foucault's insights into disciplinary power with Butler's theory of performativity, you get this more… full understanding of how social control operates through the regulation of bodies and identities! Together you can see the…the complex interplay that there is always is between power, discourse, and subjectivity in… shaping the understanding of self and society.” He says frustrated, as he follows you.

“Well, do not worry. Maybe you’ll get Foucault as you so adore him.”

“I swear that if someone else gets something about the panopticon… I will kill myself” 

“You won’t kill yourself over that”

“I’ll get the easiest top mark ever” He says very seriously about it. “It’s so easy I learned it when I was like two years old”

“You are over exaggerating, Aemond” You say as you both walk to the outside of the building, as you find a bench for you two to sit. “Relax”

“It is not in my nature”

“Believe me when I say that I know that” You say as you pat your side for him to sit. “That’s why I brought the best fried chicken ever.” As you open the bucket, he leans slightly as he puts some alcohol gel on his hands, ready to eat. He was starving, between the ball of anxiousness stuck on his stomach. “It is not as warm, but…”

“It could be cold, but I’d love it anyway because you brought them for me.” He says looking at you “You don’t even have classes today”

“No, I do not. That’s the thing when you are just the best student in class, you tend to approve earlier than the rest…”

“Oh, shush” He says as he grabs one and he makes a delighted moan as he eats it. “It’s so good. I needed this”

“The food or me?”

He rolls his eye, but lowkey, he knows that the answer is you. 

You two enjoy the food together, as you try to lighten up his mood. He is still very tense, his shoulders do not seem slightly as ease, and he was still trying to destroy his cuticles.

You look at his face. He looks slightly off. Aemond, who was very much perfectionist on his appearance, seems not to have cared enough these days. It felt like that, you knew. Studying hard so that you pass the appropriate time to bath, eat or sleep. 

The thing with Aemond is that he is utterly obsessive. A perfectionist at heart, and he likes things to do as he planned. Gives him security and confidence, and he always gave his whole soul to something so important for him. You sigh with a smile, as you feel bad for him as he seems so unease.

You lean to kiss his cheek, and he turns his head to look at you, getting out of his dissociated state. “Huh?”

Your eyebrows go up as if to ask him what he meant, as you smile. 

“What was that for?”

“I think you needed it” You say as he rolls his eye amused, leaving the empty bucket away. He looks at you, the university mostly empty, since most of the people already passed their classes and did not attend further, like you. He surely was lucky to have you, if it weren’t for you he’d surely still miss Alys. He does miss her sometimes, but after a long talk with you, he realises that she is not that worth it. But feelings don’t go away that easily, but it is clearly not love 

“Huh. What I need is a divine illumination right now” He says looking at his clock. 14:37.

“You need to calm your anxiety” You state, taking his hand on yours, and smiling at him. “Look at me.” He sighs, rolling his eyes, but he turns his body a bit to face you properly. “You know this. You read the whole books, and you knew all of it. You will nail this. There is no one here who knows the answer as you do.”

“You are far too kind” He says, his lips slightly curving. “And too good for my ego” he adds.

“Idiot. You see, you’ll end up like the assistants of the professor.”

“ I wish” he says dramatically. “The blonde one passed the exam with a hundred. Maybe she was asked about the panopticon. I swear it is so easy, I made an essay about 1984 and the whole theory of it.” he murmurs, still grumpy as he crosses his arms. “You know, there is a theory that she fucked the professor for it.”

You love good gossip, and you raise your eyebrows as your smirk is very much amused.

“Oh, is that so?”

“I mean, probably comes from envy and misogyny” he adds, rolling his eyes. “But If you get asked the easiest question…”

“Maybe you should fuck the professor as well.” you tease as he laughs a bit, less tense as his whole body moves at the amusement. 

You look at him for a brief moment, as the thought lingers in your mind for a moment. You look at him, and a very bad idea forms in your mind. Bad, but… fruitful.

You look at him, he was still tense, but less than before. His right left bounced slightly, and you looked at how huge his thigh looked against yours, even sitting on the same bench. 

You knew Aemond went to the gym almost daily, and he was very much into it, it was just his (other) way to relieve stress. He always talked about it, and you remember the occasion at Jacaerys’ sevenmas party when he and Jason Lannister had the brilliant idea to compete about who could do more pull ups without dying.

You have to press your thighs together at the memory of it. He was sweaty, and you remembered him gruting, and exhaling profoundly as he kept going. Because if Aemond was one thing, it was competitive. 

And he was more than willing to keep going with anyone who dared to challenge him. He went round after round, and you were like his personal spotter as he tried to win everyone. Sure, after going on several rounds with different people he had to back away.

You remember you and him laying on the couch as he expressed his body and arms burning from the sting. Back then, it wasn’t as arousing as it is now.

“I have just the right idea to help you” you say looking at him, as you already feel aroused. God, he was unaware of the lustful feelings he provoked in you.

“Oh gods.” Aemond says, turning to look at you. “How long will this bad idea take? I have like hour and a half”

 “It depends. Not much, I think. Well, this time, at least” You say with a giggle, and he looks at you puzzled. And you lean slightly closer. “I think you’ll like it”

Aemond blinks, as he is not sure what this idea entails.

“you have such bad ideas” he groans and you slap his arm as you chuckle.

“Hey! I have great ideas” 

“The last idea you had to help me was… were two actually. The first one being setting me up with Floris Baratheon and you with Cregan to use sex to destress”

“And? Did it go wrong??” You say.

“Your idea, yes. My idea, no. Which I remind you, was us sleeping together. Because it was my idea and I want the credit” he says smirking smugly. 

“But it was thanks to my idea”

“And the second one” he ignores your weak attempt to recover credit. “Were you cockwarming me as I read Foucault” he states amused. 

“Foucault would have loved that idea.” You say crossing your arms.

“it was a bad idea, admit it” he says amused looking at you. 

“Oh, so you aren’t in for cockwarming?” 

“No, I didn't say that” he says amused at how you turn the table on him. “I meant studying while you look so delightful, and your pussy warms my cock” he whispers slowly to you with a smirk “and you expect me to be okay with that and just read Foucault?” 

“Okay. But this one is good” you say smiling “Hear me out” 

Aemond rolls his eyes amused, but he sits back as he hears you, with an endearing smile as he does so. 

“You and I could… you know, we could relieve stress again” 

Aemond blinks slightly put off, and he looks at you.

“Like right now?”

“When else you’d be this stressed?” You ask as if he was stupid.

“Well, apologies for being rational and full of moments of stress” Aemond says “Besides, there are no places…”

“The bathroom, an empty class-”

“No places” He insists again, as if turning away your proposal. “And they’ll kick us out. And reading those books will be worthless.”

“They practically sucked your family dick for you to get in, Aemond. They won’t kick you out. Aegon probably did it…”

“Don’t compare us to Aegon-” 

“And he is still here, after changing like three times his career and failing all the classes.” you add nodding.

“I am not the one who won’t enter anywhere else”

“HEY!” you say slapping his arm as he laughs, and he passes an arm in your waist to scoop you closer as you cross your arms and look away in pride. “and the fool just wants to help you”

Aemond chuckles, as his face kisses your cheek, but you still look away, stubbornly. 

“I am joking, love” Aemond says softly, and he leans to kiss you neck softly. “We could do that”

“No, now I don’t want to” 

“You are being a brat…” he says mockingly, still smiling, and his arm around you keeps you pressed against him, as his hand rubs slightly your waist. “Come on. Don’t you wanna help me destress? Don’t you want my cock in your pretty pussy?” He whispers in your ear, placing his left hand on your thigh.

Sincerely, fuck him, because you immediately turn to look at him, and he knows how to push your buttons. He looks at you with the corners of his lips slightly turned up, as he nods softly. 

He is a little shit, persuading you to follow him to the bathroom. It was merely an idea, you knew he’d make fun from it, but not after that, he would take it to heart. 

You walk across the campus, almost empty from people that simply finished their courses or they were in class right now. And he holds your hand firmly as you head to the bathroom.

On campus, there were multiple bathrooms, but only one gender neutral bathroom. You two used to joke that this is were one came to fuck or get high. And no one really used them, as weird as it was. They weren’t always functional, and the doors tend to get stuck. But the mayor plus, is that they weren’t really dirty, nor people would come in.

Aemond leaves his backpack on the hanger inside the cubicle and you frown slightly. He didn’t bring his usual leather bag, and you point it out.

“I will go to the gym after this. I have my towel and my clothes” He explains softly, closing the door behind you and you hand your little purse too. It wasn’t small, but it wasn’t as luxurious to have a bed.

“Okay. How do we…” you move your hands trying to see how the fuck you’ll do it. “I mean, I didn’t think how…”

“I don’t think anyone thinks before having sex, darling.” He says looking at the clean bathroom, it was better than anything. The floor was clean, and Aemond could see their reflections on the black shiny tiles. “Hm.” Aemond says, looking at you. “I have a few ideas…”

“You are still tense” you say looking at how his shoulder tense up. You move your hands to caress his shoulders, and look at him “Don’t be”

“It’s like telling a sad person just not to be”

You roll your eyes, and shake your head with annoyance. “Shut up.” 

You two remain silent, as if thinking how. You had a toilet, a sink and lots of hope. 

“It feels like… too dirty” you look up to him.

“Yes.” He agrees, as you two look at eachother. “We certainly don’t have to. I’ll be fine, you know. I appreciate…”

“No” you cut him immediately. “I’ll do it.” You insist, shaking your head at his proposals. “You look… honestly, terrible”

“Ah, thanks for the support” he says rolling his eyes as he crosses his arms. 

“It’s hot” you insist, as you grab his forehand to uncross his arms. You move his arms to place them around your waist, as you walk closer to him, looking up to him. “Seeing you all stressed and tense…” 

Aemond arches his left eyebrow, as his hand finds its way to your waist, holding you. He had no idea how you could lust him as you spoke how emaciated he was, but it was working.  

He smelled like coffee and cigarettes, and you smiled at him. Your hands caressed his chest, his pectorals were something else, as he looked at you, intrigued.

“I have to do something about it” you insist, looking up to him, your hands caressing his abdomen softly. “So… tell me what to do”

Aemond looks at you. His cock was already stirring, he could feel how he was growing on his pants, hard and needy. It is a slow torture, to be sure.

“Surprise me..” he says without really thinking. 

“No..” you shake your head. “You are very stressed, and it is a very important moment for you. You need to… relieve that stress. And I… allow you to use my body how you see fit. However you see fit. ” 

Aemond blinks, a bit baffled by such a proposal. Sure, the bathrooms weren't the ideal place for this, but his cock didn't think the same now, not when you were willing to please his tastes completely, and let him use your body to his liking. 

You move your hands to unbelt his pants, slowly as his hand loosen its grip on your waist, and look at your face as you seem so eager to see once again his cock.  

“Are you hard?” You ask softly, a rhetorical question as you feel his cock against his underwear, and you look up to him as you palm him a bit.

“Yeah” he murmurs, his voice like a grunt. 

“Want me to suck your dick?” 

Aemond takes a deep breath, as the corners of his mouth seem to go slightly up. He is getting annoyed at your teasing, but not the bad type of annoyed. The type of annoyed when you “behave like a brat” as he puts it, and he enjoys keeping you in line.

Whenever you insist on skipping class, he has to keep a close eye on you. If you insist on trying to get with someone which is no good for you, he has to keep you by his side. When you want to do something reckless, he stops you, a hand steady on your waist. 

“You know the answer” he says softly.

“Yes” your smile is cheeky as you move your shoulders “so?” 

Aemond sighs, his hands rubbing your arms and shoulder. “Yes. I want you to suck my dick” he says simply, and you smile a bit. “But I am sure you want to have my cock as well. Badly” he adds. 

You smile at him, and nod, feigning innocence.

“Then kneel”

“Floor is dirty” you remind him with a smirk. “Not the best-”

“Kneel on my feet.” he does not hesitate. “Won’t be dirty at all. You like being at my feet, don’t you?”

Your cheeks slightly burn from the remark. You look at him, and he looks nothing but smug.  You sometimes really hate him.

His boots are perfectly clean, you can picture him cleaning every little detail of his outfit so he looks presentable and even more perfect for his exam. It is both endearing and hot.

Your knees go to rest on his shoes. A bit uncomfortable, a bit too close. Forced proximity to his crotch, as he pulled his boxers down. 

You look up to him as your mouth salivates at the sight, his cock fat, big and swollen, getting harder by the second. It hits his own abdomen, tall and proud. 

You accommodate a bit your knees on his shoes, making sure it doesn’t hurt him for you to place your weight on his feet. Yet he doesn’t seem even fazed by that.

“Go on” he murmurs, moving some hairs out of your face, as he leans for his back to rest against the cold ceramic wall. He looks at you, his arousal growing as you press your lips to the base of his cock to kiss it, and you basically are taking your time for it, his face pressed against his cock as you leave little kisses on his base, going all up to his tip.

The weight of your knees on his feet is slightly uncomfortable, but he is too aroused, that it only fuels his lust for you. 

“We don’t have all the time” he murmurs, taking your hair to guide you.

“You don’t rush art-”

“Come on” he grunts as his fist is more tight to your hair. “You said I could use you as I wish. So shut up and take it” 

God damn you if it didn’t turn you on.

His grip on your hair was firm, as his other hand went to rest at the top of your neck, holding your jaw. You are forced to have his dick on your mouth and the plus was that you could see his face perfectly.

At first, he lets you accommodate his cock on your mouth. He holds you, as if guiding you to it. You don’t have to do anything but be pretty, and open your mouth. And of course, taking his massive cock on your throat. 

You look at him with glossy eyes as he has his way in your throat, gently, holding you softly and soothing you, making you more receptive to all. 

“Shhhh, there, you are doing so good” His soothing voice comes in a low voice, as he has that pleased expression on his face, biting his lower lip as you swallow more and more of his cock. “So pretty”

It comes as a praise, as his hand gently caresses softly your throat as you take him well , making you maintain your head tilted up so his cock can slide perfectly down your throat, little by little, forcing you to keep it wide and open all for him.  

He lets a low groan, his grip hesitates, between becoming more firm or looser. He guides your  movements as you take him deeper. His cheeks are slightly red, his own mouth is open, panting to suppress the moans and grunts; his brows furrowed in pleasure as his eye is transfixed by the sight of you; his cock disappearing into your mouth, your lips wrapping around his mouth. 

“Fuck…” He barely can form the sentence, more like a pant, and he still tries to be quiet, his hips start thrusting in your mouth, keeping your head still for him to use however he pleases. However he wants. Utterly at his mercy.

Once his cock hits the back of your throat, he starts bucking his hips up roughly. He holds your head, a tight and firm grip as he pumps his dick in and out. 

“So hot” He breathes out, “Taking my dick like this” He says, as if the mere thought aroused him more. 

You gurgle on his cock, the head of it hitting your throat, and you try to remain quiet. The gagging sounds are nothing but obscene, and they resonate in the bathroom halls. 

You look up to him, and you let him use you. Even if you can’t breathe, even if your throat will be sore- gods, even if they catch you. Why? Easy.

Aemond seems more relaxed. He seems at ease, as his chest rises and falls as he pants, his face in a contorned expression full of pleasure, as his hand presses against your throat; the other still on your hair. He grips slightly your throat and can even feel the small bulge his cock makes on its way down. 

And you’d give anything to always see him this at ease. He is not relaxed; by nature. He tends to obsess, he tends to think and rethink things. He is hardly a person who goes by hedonistic ways, that enjoys leisure. 

But this? You might always be on your knees, fully open and available for him. And you have the faintest impression that you both know it. 

“Fuck” He pants again, trying to keep his voice no louder than a mer murmur. “You feel me here? I’m all the way down, baby” He says, his hand gripping at the end of your jaw and beginning of your throat. He stops his thrust, and you swallow a bit, squeezing him. He moans, shamelessly. 

You look up to him, and nod softly; as you can do so. He smirks and nods, his lips open as the hand on your hair moves to move some hairs out of your forehead.

“It does… It does help” He says, grinning a bit, out of breath. “I don’t want to… cum, but neither to pull away.”

Your hands move to his thighs, and you look up to him. He loves the sight of you. You begged for him to use you, and that thought drives him feral insane. 

“I’ll fuck you” He says as he pulls out, and he leans to take you by your armpits to keep you on foot. He moves your long skirt all the way up, and his smirk lets you know that he has no plans of stopping. 

“Yeah, yeah” You say without breath.

“I was not asking” he says as he grabs you, and he presses your back against the door, moving his hips closer, so you don’t have another option but to wrap your legs around his waist.

As his hands move to try to move your panties to the side, you look at him, and almost in a moment of clarity you murmur. 

“Against the door is a bad idea, it will creak” You complain, but Aemond roll his eye at annoyance.

“Shut up” he murmurs “You say that I could use you, so you don’t get a say in this. If I want to fuck you like this, you’ll take it”

You blink, and he looks up to face you. He is so enjoying this, his grin is smug, and his eyebrows are slightly frowning as if asking you to defy him.

“Yes, sir” You murmur, slightly playfully, and slightly not playfully.

He hums, and nods. He is pleased with your answer. 

“Soaked wet” he smirks as his fingers trace your panties. “It could be freezing cold, and you’ll still use these damn skirts, hm?”

“Always in hopes you’ll bend me over” You say softly, and he chuckles a bit. He moves to kiss your lips, as his fingers move your panties to the side, and moves his fingers slowly inside. 

His scent is driving you more feral, cigarettes and coffee, he is pested on it. Maybe he had like three coffees to keep himself up, and cigarettes to calm himself down. His perfume is strong, and you knew he liked to have those masculine scents, but the ones who smelt good, and you loved his perfume. 

He pushes his fingers in and out, and you gasp on his mouth, your hips trying to move as he keeps you pressed against the door. It is utterly naughty, you know it.

“You ruined me” he murmurs against your neck, placing kisses there. “When I’ll be answering that question, that I studied so hard for… I’ll be imagining you sucking my dick.”

You whimper slightly, feeling full of him. Being full of him, of his fingers. He fucks you, preparing you for his cock.

“I missed this pretty pussy, this tiny hole of yours.” He says, his other hand wrapping around your waist to keep you still, and helping you not fall. “So wet for me. Are you always wet when you are around me? Wearing your most provocative outfits for me?”

“Yes” You admit as you blush a bit. He reads you like an open book.

“Fool of me to ask that. In my eyes, all your outfits are provocative. All your outfits make me wanna stuff you on my cock, and have you crying of pleasure” He murmurs against your neck, and he decides that a hickey will decorate your neck just fine. 

You whimper, squeezing his fingers as his hot mouth sucks against the skin of your neck, and you squirm slightly on his arms. You drive him insane, and after a while he is satisfied, moving away to inspect his art.

“I’m gonna fuck you so hard” He says, breathless as his thumb move over then hickey. 

His promises are never empty, as you feel his cock entering your cunt in a swift motion. It is not your first time taking him, but every time feels better than the last. 

You squirm trying to get in a better position against the door, but he keeps you still in the position he wants. You wrap an arm around his neck for better stability, as his hips start to buck against you, using his grip on your waist to move you up and down on his cock. 

Gods, he is so strong, you know it. He is holding all your weight as he fucks you, each thrust, your back hits the door, making it creak and grate, every thrust hitting it softly. It is so obscene, yet it arouses you more. His strong arms around you, his muscles against your body. It arouses you more than it should, feeling your body against his firm chest, as he fucks you.

His head moves back to your neck, to the other side, barely over your clavicle to make another hickey. He is full hands-on, hitting your ass softly as he uses you, as his cock pounds your cunt over and over. 

“You like when I use you? When I fuck you how I want?” 

“Yeah, yeah, I love it…” You whimper as you feel the little kiss he leaves over your hickey. 

“You love it, I know, baby” He says, his other arm going to your waist, now wrapped up and holding you close against his chest, moving you up and down on his cock.

You mewl at the change of position, you don’t care how much your shoulders accidentally hit the door, you just want for him to…

It hits you like a cold bucket of water.

“We are not using a condom” you murmur, and his thrusts stop a bit, his head looking up to face you. He didn’t realise the fact either.

You two blink at each other, and he waits for you to continue. 

“You should cum inside and we’ll try our luck” you say softly, and his hands grip on your waist tighter.

“Fuck yes…” He breathes out, the thought drives insane, and by how he is fucking you harder, you know it.

You lean softly, your breasts against his neck as you lean your head closer to his ear. “You’ll give that exam while I am leaking your cum” 

Up and down, he moves you, the filthy sound of your ass against his flesh, and he moans, more desperate to cum. Your cunt squeezes a bit, his cock is sliding against your walls in a delicious way, and you are becoming too overwhelmed by the size of him too, how the head manages to grind your sweet spot and how he is grunting against your ear.

His thumb rubs back and forth against your clit. Your jaw drops, as you feel yourself cumming from how much he is doing to you, how he magically knows all secrets to make you melt on his cock. It is almost as magical as you know his secrets too.

You milking his cock has to be one of his favourite newfound discoveries. Maybe his new favourite hobby. Your cunt squeezing his cock, as if making sure his balls go empty, releasing himself in you with such determination, that maybe it’ll get you pregnant. And that thought, to his horny head, does not bother him. 

He holds you still, impaled on his cock as he cums inside you, nuzzling his head on the curve of your neck to drunk himself on your scent. It calms him, to be sure. And he loves it. Familiar, sweet and cosy. As if it was home for him.

You two share lazy kisses, as he has no problem holding you still. You smile, your hands resting against his strong shoulders, and he eventually pulls out and leaves you safely on your foot again. 

“I have another idea” You say smiling to him.

“Gotta give it to you, this idea wasn’t bad. So I am hearing you out” He says as he takes a small towel from his bag, wiping some of the sweat on his neck and you smirk mischievously.

Your hand goes to your panties, taking them out and presenting them to him. They are still soaked wet, and you smile proudly at your idea.

“What?” He asks frowning, but slightly amused.

“Like a lucky charm” 

He looks at you in disbelief before he starts laughing a bit. 

“What?” It is your turn to ask him.

“That is such a… silly idea” 

“Think about it! You can keep it with you when you answer the questions.”

“Darling, that is… Your bad ideas made a comeback, eh?” He teases you, saving the towel on his bag and you take the opportunity to hit his chest again.

“Fine.” You say “Don’t take them”

“I didn’t say I was not gonna take them as my lucky charm. I just said it was silly” he says, taking your panties from your hands, and putting them in his pocket. 

“Pervert” you murmur amused, turning around to unlock the door of the bathroom, which he totally uses to slap your ass, in which you whine “Aemond!”

You two get out as quickly as you can, no one seems at sight. You look at yourself in the mirror and scrunch your face at seeing your state.

“Look at what you-” you start but you both turn to look at the person who just walked in.

As they move to take some of the toilet paper, with a stuffy nose, Aemond moves closer to you, clearing his throat a bit awkwardly as you feel them side-eye you both. No words were spoken, but it was awkward. 

Once they go away, you and Aemond share a look.

“Pff, that was close” You try to break the tension.

“It wasn’t close. You look absolutely fucked.” His hand moves to comb your hair, as some crazy locks were out of place. He? Looked divine and perfect as always. “And the hickeys don’t help your case”

“How am I supposed to go out with those things in my neck? Gods” you say, a hand rubbing the hickey as if they would disappear with that. “And I have to buy the pill-”

“Yeah” he says, pressing his lips together as he tries to suppress a smile. “Well, to be fair it was your idea.”

“I totally forced you to it” You roll your eyes as you two walk out of the bathroom and back to the waiting hall.

“Hm” He says amused. “I am innocent”

You both wait seated, with other of his classmates around. He does not engage, he is obviously tense and anxious, but at the same time, it is not eating him alive as before. 

You feel proud of that. He was an anxious mess, and thanks to you he was well fed and got to release all his worries on you, and your cunt. And for that, you smile. 

You can see Cregan wandering around with Jace, and you don’t care about him anymore. Sure, he was still hot as hell, but with Aemond near, you just lean your head on his shoulder and he rubs his nervous hand on your waist.

“Aemond Targaryen” His name is called out, and you stand along with him, taking his hand along yours. 

Before he goes in, with his other two classmates, you stop him, to kiss him sweetly. Your hands cup his face, and you have to be on your tiptoes to reach his lips properly. 

“They’ll ask you about Foucault” You murmur on his lips, as he looks at you, nervous but dumbfounded. “And you’ll nail this” 

That reassurance makes him smile, leaving a small peck on your lips before going in. Being asked about the Panopticon, being the top of his class and being assistant seem second hand worries as he knows that you’ll be waiting for him once he comes out from the exam. You’ll always be his lucky charm. 

[rafeandonlyrafe]

when in rome

words: 1.7k

warnings: 18+ only!, smut!, p in v sex, unprotected sex, female receiving oral, mentions of a blowjob, plane sex, mile high club woohoo!, cheating, not a happy ending!, angst

“hello.” you smile at the handsome man as the flight attendant guides him to his seat, and you’re glad its next to yours.

“hey.” he smiles right back and you swear you fall in love at that moment. “i’m rafe.”

“y/n.” you can feel your face flush, and you pray that its a cute blush rather than a full red face.

“nice to meet you.” he adjusts how he's sitting. you figure that due to his height it must be uncomfortable to fly, even if he is flying business class. “gonna get to know each other real well, huh?”

“yeah, seems like it.” you giggle. you find yourself going from dreading the 8 hour nonstop flight to looking forward to it as you fall into easy conversation with rafe.

“so, what are your plans in italy?” he asks you.

“ah, vacation mostly. i have some distant family i’m going to visit but its really just a fun trip for me. what about yourself?” “business.” rafe sighs. you should have been able to guess by his outfit, everything about him reads business man, even though he’s clearly on the younger side, you guess not much older than yourself.

“you’ll get some time to see a bit of the sights at least, right?” you ask hopefully.

“i will definitely find time if you’re the one showing them to me.” rafe smirks at you, making the flirtation clear, giving you the go ahead to bat your eyelashes right back at him.

--

“this-” you gasp. “this isn’t what i had in mind when you said show you the sights. thought you meant like the trevi fountain or-” your mind is completely blank of other attractions to see in rome, despite that being your whole reason for visiting. you’re far too overwhelmed with rafe between your thighs.

“mmm, this sight is all i wanna see.” he leans forward to press a kiss to your clit before darting his tongue out and flicking over it, movements still teasingly light like they have been for the past ten minutes.

“feels so good.” you moan. even with keeping his movements so gentle, its still evident rafe has a talented mouth.

he finally leans in fully, lips wrapping around your clit as he sucks the sensitive flesh into his mouth. your hands reach for his hair, grabbing onto the dirty blond strands. 

you try to keep your moans quiet as rafe eats you out, you really do, for the sake of the people staying in the hotel rooms next to yours, but you simply can’t help when you moan out, his sucking forcing it out of you.

“can’t wait to get inside this cute little hole.” rafe smirks, tongue moving down to your entrance, finally showing it some appreciation. he laps over your cunt, unashamed to slurp and swallow your juices, shocked how wet you are (although he shouldn’t be after teasing you for so long).

“i can’t wait to feel your dick.” you moan, hands tightening on his hair but rafe doesn’t complain as you push his face forward, finally conceding and sticking his tongue into your entrance, feeling your gummy walls against the muscle as he begins to thrust it in and out.

rafe continues for as long as he possibly can, even grinds into the bed slightly to hold off from how badly he needs to give his dick attention, but he can’t take it anymore.

you are completely naked while rafe is still fully dressed, now kneeling between your legs. he works on the buttons of his shirt first before tossing it away, undoing his belt buckle while keeping his eyes locked with yours until he’s able to slide it out of the loops, also joining his shirt somewhere on the floor.

he’s built for a businessman, muscles gleaming in the low light as he works his pants and underwear off next until his hard cock is revealed, standing upright away from his body with pride.

“wanna suck you.” you begin to sit up, but rafe pushes your waist gently back down against the bed.

“you can suck me off after showing me the trevi fountain tomorrow. need to get inside you.”

“tomorrow?” you smile. you weren’t sure when you called his number after exchanging them on the plane if he would even pick up, let alone find time to come and see you while in rome. “aren’t you busy?” “don’t care what my boss says.” rafe simply shrugs. “not if it means getting more time with you.”

its strangely romantic for someone who is basically a complete stranger to say, but the thought is quickly swept out of your head when rafe drapes himself over your body, his cock rubbing through your slick folds.

“condom.” you suddenly realize, eyes widening.

“shit, i don’t have one.” rafe groans, still rubbing his cock against you. “please, baby.” “i-i guess its fine.” you’re on the pill, but you only met rafe a few days ago, and unprotected sex would be completely out of the question if you weren’t so desperate for him to plunge his dick inside of you.

“thank you, baby.” rafe says, the nickname rolling like butter off his tongue, making your eyes flutter closed.

he reaches down with one hand, lining his cock up with your entrance before sinking in, both voices joining in a chorus as you moan out. 

“fuck, you’re so tight. feels so good.” rafe praises you, his hand reaching to grip your tit in is large hand, encompassing so much of your chest.

“mmm, slow.” you flinch slightly, still adjusting to how big he feels inside of you, stretching at your walls. “slow at first please.”

rafe nods, hips barely moving as he rocks in and out, dropping himself lower to press a kiss to your lips, quickly turning into a makeout session until rafe just can’t keep the slow pace anymore.

“you’re good.” you tell rafe, who has been slowly increasing his tempo since you started kissing.

“thank god.” he moans, hips going from soft swings to instant heavy pounding, thrusting wildly up into you. you let out an involuntary squeal as you reach up above your head, gripping the headboard as rafe repositions himself slightly, now kneeling with your hips held firmly in his big hands, holding you up so he gets the perfect angle to hammer inside of you.

you moan as you feel your high building, never having been able to from just penetration before, but rafe is hitting a spot inside of you that you swear no man has ever touched before, and when you feel him release inside of you, your own orgasm forces itself out too with a scream.

--

“i mean what are the chances we have the same flight back.” you laugh. you’re not sat next to each other like before, but you do plan on asking to move seats so rafe can keep you preoccupied again.

“i know.” he smirks, leaning forward to press a kiss to the edge of your mouth. “can’t wait to fuck you in the bathroom.”

you roll your eyes at him at the moment, but you do let him take you into the bathroom when the lights dim for everyone else to sleep, easily enticed by his blue eyes.

“gotta be quiet for real now baby.” rafe says, having somehow maneuvered both of your clothes off in the small room.

his hips are thrusting up into yours, his palm covering your mouth, seeing by the gloss in your eyes that you’re already too far gone to hold your noises back. thankfully, your hands are still able to grip the edge of the sink to keep yourself steady.

“can’t be like in the hotel room.” he smirks. you eventually got a noise complaint on your fourth night there, but the hotel associate simply asked you to keep it down before retreating, probably intimidated by the fact that rafe still had very little on when answering the door.

“wanna kiss you so bad, gotta promise me you won’t moan the second i take my hand away.” rafe says, looking into your eyes. 

you nod, batting your eyelashes at him in a way that has him instantly conceding, hand dropping away from your mouth, quickly being replaced by his own lips, still not trusting you fully, especially when he uses his newly freed hand to reach between your bodies and rub your clit.

rafe manages to dampen your moans that flow into his mouth as he pumps up faster, still without a condom, having never gotten around to buying them between working and trying to spend every spare moment inside of you, only agreeing to see the sights so your bodies could both recover before fucking again.

“close.” you whimper. rafe smiles, hes learned your body so well in such a short period of time, he was able to tell just from the way your cunt began to pulsate around his cock that your high was almost upon you.

rafe moves faster, the sink squeaking slightly until your body tenses briefly before turning into a tremble, clit pulsing under his finger as rafe lets out a low moan, lodging himself as deep within you as he can before cumming.

you feel blissed out, elated for the rest of the flight, even managing to catch some sleep while leaning against rafes shoulder. you don’t even think about what is going to happen after you land back in america, how you are going somewhere different than where rafe is.

you walk out of the plane right behind him, expecting him to turn and take your hand like he did when walking around rome, or to turn around ask you if you’d like to chat and have some coffee, maybe even kiss you and pull you into a random secluded lounge.

but he does none of those things, simply keeps on walking. you follow him, tears starting to swell in your eyes.

they fall when a girl runs up to him, her long blond waves flowing as she jumps into his arms, pressing a kiss to his lips that rafe instantly accepts like he hasn’t been kissing you for the past week.

“i’ve missed you so much, rafey!” she squeals. you’re not sure if its her words or the high pitch of her voice that causes you to stagger back.

rafe still doesn’t look back as he walks away, doesn’t turn to see you fall to your knees, doesn’t witness the way sobs rack your body.

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart @pradabambie

[theemporium]

Hiii!!! This is my first request but I love your writing so I know you won’t lead me astray!! Im thinking about 💰 with sugar daddies Charlos who maybe find out reader has needed something really badly (maybe something like school textbooks or the like) and instead of asking them, she has been saving up and stressing about it or even looking for grants/scholarships and they find out and are like ☹️ “why didn’t you tell us???” And it’s just really fluffy and sweet!!

(ALSO,,, pleaseee when the proper time comes and if you want to, write the werewolf!lestappen request!! It sounds so good!!)

Thank you loads xx

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

.

You were going to turn yourself grey with the stress this paper was giving you.

The whole class had been taking over your life in the worst way possible. It had a low pass rate, the paper was worth a majority of your grade and the professor that already seemed like a dick seemed to have it out for you—or at least that's what it felt like with all the feedback you received from her.

It was overwhelming and frustrating and it seemed like no matter how hard you tried, it wasn’t getting any easier.

Your tipping point had been when the professor announced a massive essentials reading list that you had to complete before you started the paper, along with the announcement that she expected to see each one in the reference. The kicker? None of the papers or textbooks were available in the library or free online. It seemed like you had to pay for it. 

And if being a student with crippling debt wasn’t enough, the price of academic textbooks could have sent you to an early grave. 

You had resorted to picking up a job with crappy shifts at a bar on campus. The hours were horrible, the manager was an asshole and the customers were anything but polite (mostly consisting of cocky frat boys and trust fund babies who flaunted money like it was enough to look past fake IDs). Between the hours you were pulling and the hours spent studying in the library, you barely had time to sleep—let alone keep a thriving social life. 

You hadn’t even realised you had been ignoring Charles and Carlos’ messages until you opened the door to your flat and found them waiting inside.

“Oh.” Your eyes widened, a feeling of dread washing over you. “Did I forget something? Is there a gala tonight?”

Carlos frowned, a hint of concern in his eyes. “You weren’t answering our messages.”

“I’m sorry,” you sighed, your cheeks flushing a little in embarrassment. “I didn’t take my charger to the library and then it died during my shift—”

“Your shift?” Charles repeated, his brain wracking around to figure out if he was misinterpreting your words. “What shift?”

You fell quiet, realising you had slipped up.

Carlos stepped forward, his fingers pushing your chin up when you tried to look away. “He asked you a question, amor.” 

“It was just a few shifts at the campus bar,” you murmured with a sheepish expression on your face. “It was no big deal. It was just so I could buy–”

“If you needed to buy something, you tell us,” Charles said, almost looking like a kicked puppy when he spoke. “That was our deal, cherie.”

“Yeah but,” you started but even you weren’t sure where it was going. “I thought that was for gifts and stuff…like materialistic things.”

“Whatever you need, we want to provide,” Carlos corrected you, his large hands cupping your face whilst you stared up at him with wide eyes. “Whether it’s textbooks or vacations or a car.”

“Please don’t buy me a car,” you murmured. 

Charles snorted. “We won’t, but we can. If you need it, we will.” 

“I just feel bad asking,” you admitted shyly. “It’s different when you give me things compared to when I ask.”

“Well, get used to it because I don’t want a repeat of this,” Carlos said with a frown as his eyes glanced over your face. “You look exhausted.”

“It’s been a very stressful few weeks,” you told the boys and you watched Charles’ frown deepen a little.

“Then let us help you destress,” Charles said before nodding towards your bedroom. “Go get changed. We are taking you out.”

“Charles—” You started but he cut you off.

“You’re ours to take care of, physically and financially,” Charles said, taking one of your hands in his as he pressed a kiss to your knuckles. “We will call your job and tell them you’re quitting.”

You rolled your eyes. “Please don’t say anything stupid or dramatic.”

Charles grinned. “Me? Never, cherie.”

“I’ll make sure he behaves,” Carlos told you with a smile. “Now go get ready, amor. Let us take care of our pretty girl.”

.

[timdrakesmissingnotebook]

summary: damian wayne thinks he's never going to be able to compare against his siblings. you have something to say about it

pairing: damian wayne x reader

note: this is mostly inspired by the song Everyone Adores You (At Least I Do) by Matt Maltese! i love this song and thought, "why not make it about damian and his inability of feeling like he's enough?", so here it is! please, forgive any errors (i still don't have a beta reader lol)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

At first you thought you were going insane because there was no way in Hell that what you were seeing was real.

Blinking a few times, you see that: Yes, you are not going insane and yes: you just found The infamous (and very attractive) Damian Wayne crying, all by himself, on the dreadful chemistry laboratory you two were about to spend the next 50 minutes in.

You stare at him for a few moments before noticing that his cry wasn't slowing but instead picking up. The boy on front of you was starting to sob before you decide, against your better judgement, to take quiet steps towards him.

"Hey... " You mutter gently, just a few meters from his work bench, "Are you okay?"

Damian startles, jumping slightly while he looks up at you from behind watery eyes. He quickly puts a scowl on and brings his palms to dry his, still leaking, green eyes, "Yes and you didn't see anything."

"Maybe I didn't." Squinting your eyes at him, you act almost on instinct as you flop on the chair next to his. Turning to him, you beam brightly at the boy, putting your hand out for a handshake, "I'm (y/n)-"

"(y/l)." He finishes. Looking down at your hand before grasping it with his own in a meek handshake, "I know, and I have a feeling you know me too. What are you doing?"

"Yeah, I know you." Shrugging, you reply, having the decency to look sheepish, "And I'm just sitting here."

Damian tilts one of his brows and crosses his arms and a voice on the back of your head whispered that you shouldn't find it so hot, "What do you want?"

"Nothing." You say and mimicks his gesture, "I just want to let you know that I'm a good listener. If you want to open up, y'know?"

Damian's face falls for a quick second before he regans his frowny face, "And why should I do that?"

"Because you were crying, so that obviously means that something is bothering you and, as I said, I'm a good listener." You say, counting on your finger. You then smile softly at him, "You may not trust or know me or whatever, but everybody needs to just vent sometimes."

The boy turns forwards, glaring at the board on the other side of the room, and stays quiet for so long you almost decides to give up and sit on the usual bench you share with your friend, but before you could do so, he whispers, almost condemning, "I have a lot of siblings."

You nod, turning to him again, in a way to indicated that he could continue.

"And they-" He starts before breathing deeply, "They are amazing and kind and thoughtful and... I don't think I'll ever be anything like them. Like, come on, Timothy became the freaking CEO of Wayne Enterprises when he was seventeen and I have no idea of what I want to do after I finish high school. Not to mention how they are always out there helping people. They always know how to cheer someone up, be it with a hug, or a conversation. They all seem like they have everything figure out and I can't even decide on what I want to eat for breakfast."

He pauses, rubbing the sleeves of his shirt harshly against his leaking eyes. He then turns, whispering sorrowfully, "How can I even compete with that?"

To be honest, you definetely wasn't expecting that. Sighning, you reach towards his wrist, stoping him before he could scrap the skin off his face. You gently holds his hands on your lap, "You don't have to compete. Also, you aren't being fair."

"How so?" He rolls his eyes, looking down.

"You are only talking about the indecisive part of you. The part that is totally normal because you are a teenager, duh. What about we talk about how much you help too?" That makes the boy glance back up and you continue, "How about that time you stood up for that girl when a bunch of seniors were being a pain in the ass. Or that time you helped Mrs. Johnson gather the rest of the pre-school class that was touring here? Or that one time you-"

Damian cuts you off, a shy, small smile on his lips, "I understood."

"You do good too, Damian." You state smootly, "You just have to see it."

You stare at each others eyes for a what felt like forever before the banging of the lab door announced the entrance of the rest of your class and interruption of your quiet conversation.

Damian quickly straights his back and you two let go of the pleasant hold of hands with a matching set of blushes. Coughing awkwardly, Damian glances at you nervously and nods, "Thank you, (y/l). You- you helped."

"I'm happy to hear." You nod back and spin to stare at the front of the classroom.

You two stay silent, watching the other students and the teacher settle down before you realize something. You squint your eyes again, and turns to look at him, confused, "Wait, how did you know me? I'm pretty sure we never talked before."

For your frustation, the only answer you had was the slight blush on his cheeks and the amused grin on his lips.

[owliellder]

Two's A Crowd

College Bully! Leon Kennedy x fem! Reader

MDNI 18+

(Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5)

Description: College is proving to be a lot harder than you imagined. You cannot fail this math class. So when you've tried everything else, a well-known student is recommended to you by your professor for tutoring lessons, not really leaving you with much of a choice but to work with him.

Warnings: Not proofread, No Use of Y/N, Dub-Con, Unprotected Sex, Bullying, Yelling, Cursing

Tags: College AU, Bully! Leon, Shy! Reader, both are in their early 20's, Leon is Rude AF in the beginning, Loss of Virginity, Oral Sex, Fingering, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Additional Tags to be Added

Author's Note: I've been late posting this entire series 😭. i explained a bit when anon asked, but i LOST my compression gloves and got a new pair relatively quick on top of my $200 medication 💔 my wallet is in shambles guys

ANYWAYS thank you all for sticking around and bearing with me!! i kiss and hug everyone!! even though i haven't responded to comments lately, i read every single one and it always makes me giggle ♥️♥️

Cross-posted onto AO3

Chapter 5

The drive back to your university with your mom was excruciating. You hadn’t told anyone what’d happened which meant you had to keep a happy demeanor around them throughout the holidays up until now. Dread had settled in your stomach once the drive began and continued to spread the closer you got, similar to when you’re headed to the doctors or the dentist, just a million times worse.

Texting Ella and Sky had helped a surprising amount, turning the majority of your anxiety into rage. Ella was furious when she found out, so her fury, and Sky’s, quickly became yours.

They hyped you up, ready to be at your side and assist in tearing “that shitty fratfuck” to shreds. The support meant so much after everything, especially after the reality of it all set in; you’d seen the picture via snapchat from someone you didn’t know, so how many others had seen it?

Your worst fear was being seen as easy, being used like you were. But you weren’t, were you? Your friends had made sure to try and convince you otherwise, you had to give them that, yet even with the facts laid out in front of you, it was still hard to divert your thoughts away from that ever-looming self-doubt.

Seeing the campus come into view only served to solidify those thoughts and feelings. No matter what Sky and Ella had tried or are willing to do for you, it just wasn’t enough to fix what’s been done.

Your mom helped you bring your suitcase up to your dorm, giving you a tight hug and a kiss on the temple before saying goodbye and heading on her way. Playing okay around your family all winter break was exhausting, so you just chose to sit in silence on your bed instead of unpacking your stuff. Always prepared, you wanted to get here a few days early, using unpacking and settling back in as an excuse, when really you just needed time to collect yourself before the inevitable happened.

He was here, and you were sure he’d seek you out eventually once he spotted you, or maybe when one his friends did and the word made its way back to him. Whichever way it happened, you knew it’d be unfavorable. 

“Hey,” Ella’s voice from the doorway caught your attention, “you look miserable..” How hadn’t you heard the door open? 

“I am miserable, but uh.. let’s just pretend I’m not, okay?” You replied, barely cracking a smile as you glanced up at her. 

She gave you a weak laugh in return, letting the door close as she slowly sauntered over to you, plopping down right next to you on the edge of the bed. “Fine, yeah. You haven’t shown me your schedule yet, by the way.”

“Oh, right-” you paused to reach over and grab your bag, rifling through the various papers in there until finally pulling out the schedule you printed out a couple weeks back. “It’s mostly the classes that aren’t fun.” You stopped to look at your schedule for a brief moment before passing the paper over to Ella, who quickly snatched it from your hand.

She squinted dramatically, holding the paper only a couple inches away from her face. “Yeaaah, these aren’t the best. At least it looks like you’ll have the majority of your pre-reqs out of the way for next year though.” Her observation made you chuckle with a nod.

“Which is what I’m trying to do. Work myself to the bone now, chill out later.” 

“Don’t kill yourself trying to do everything in one fell swoop.”

“I promise I won’t Ella, this is just how I-” A knock on the door drew both yours and Ella’s attention away from each other, an immediate scowl settling on her face. You wanted to ask, but it seems she already knew what you were going to say, quickly shushing you in a hushed voice, “Sky won’t be here until tomorrow night. Don’t answer that.”

You paused, thought for a moment, then nodded once with pursed lips. Ella was a pretty serious person, the mom of the group you could say, so when she pulled that tone, you knew better than to test it. Besides, you didn’t want to see who or what was on the other side of the door, you needed more time.

The next day was a little better, if uneventful. You finally brought yourself to unpack your suitcase, a chance to reorganize everything since you’d gotten a few new things over the holidays. Ella stuck close, bringing food up and into your dorm to take advantage of the empty mini fridge while the two of you binge watched a few random movies.

You stayed cozied up in your bed, having already mapped out and memorized your walking path for each class; longer, less foot traffic to and from. All you had to do was get through the rest of this year, that’s all. Little extra walking never hurt anyone, right?

When classes actually started, the long and complicated walks actually worked for a time; no one gave you strange looks, no one tried to talk to you, and it was pretty quiet. Scenic. But everyone knows everything good must come to an end eventually, and of course it had to be when you were just starting to forget all of this mess.

He caught you between classes. Scenic walks backfired massively when you realized there wasn’t anyone else around on that part of campus. Guess you didn’t think this one all the way through.

You couldn’t help but notice he looked pretty roughed up, sporting a few bruises along his cheekbone, a split lip, and a healing black eye. Seems he’s been busy over winter break.

“Listen, please listen-” Leon pleaded, holding his hands out in a weak attempt to trap you in the hallway. All this did was make you even more uncomfortable. “I know what I did was wrong, but I was not the one who sent that picture around, I swear.” You just stood in place after a few tries to get around him, giving him an almost bored stare. He didn’t really expect to finally catch you, so he stumbled over his words as he continued to ramble.

“I-.. I’m so, so sorry for doing that to you,” he slowly lowered his hands back down to his sides once he was sure you’d stay to listen, “I know that what I did was terrible, and I mean it when I say that I am sorry. I wish there was a way to turn back time and undo it, but I can't. I can't even explain why I did it in the first place, but that's not an excuse. I just- I messed up big time and I was- am stupid for letting it happen.”

To you this seemed sincere, but you really couldn’t be sure and it was safe to assume it wasn’t. Leon managed to trick you for months, who’s to say this wasn’t a trick as well? 

Your look turned skeptical, crossing your arms tightly against your chest with a shaky breath. Despite handling this better than you thought you would, it was still nerve wracking having this kind of talk.

“I'm not good at this, but I'm more than willing to do whatever it takes to make things right, if that's even possible..” Leon breathed out, panting as he tried to catch his breath after talking so fast. “I managed to uh-.. to find everyone who had the picture and I made them delete it.”

“I made them delete the picture.” He repeated, taking another moment to breathe before suddenly looking down to yank something out of his pocket. “I-I got your uh-.. these-” 

Seeing him hold up your panties so casually made you gasp, immediately looking around the hallway to make sure it was still empty before shooting him a glare, whispering a harsh “Put them back! Put them back!” which made him scramble to hide them in his pocket again. 

“Right- right, sorry! Sorry…” Leon was sweating at this point, growing increasingly anxious under your gaze. He didn’t want to mess this up any further, but man he was doing a pretty shitty job at that right now.

His hands were shoved into his pockets as well, both of you blushing with embarrassment, and also shame on Leon’s part. Once he managed to slow his breathing, he started to talk again, a noticeable frown tugging at the corner of his lips. “You don’t.. have to forgive me or anything, I just wanted to make sure you knew that hardly anyone knows and-” His adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed dryly, turning his head to the side to look at the wall, “.. and that I’m sorry. I really do like you, I guess I just took a little too long to realize it…”

You made another quick glance over your shoulder before looking back at the man trembling in front of you who was still avoiding your gaze. You wanted to hate him so bad, so bad, but it was hard when all you could see was the Leon who was so sweet, the Leon who let you cry to him when the weight of the world was on your shoulders and made you feel so wanted and loved.

“Can we-” you cleared your throat and pulled the strap of your backpack further up onto your shoulder, rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet. “Can we talk later, maybe? Like, in my dorm? I don’t want anyone overhearing any of this..”

Leon perked up when he heard you talk, pulling his hands from his pockets to nervously rake his fingers through his hair, which was now partially damp from the sweat beading off his forehead. “Oh- OH! Yeah, of- of course, yeah, I’m sorry I didn’t- I just needed to-”

You waved your hands in front of your chest, shutting him up so he didn’t spill any further. "And throw those away." He nodded silently, wiping a hand down his face until it settled right in front of his lips, probably knowing he was talking too much at this point. 

There was one more class you needed to go to that day, so you hurried off after telling him to wait outside your dorm until you were done, and he promised he would. Very adamantly, too. At least he held true to his words, standing in the hallway right in front of your dorm room like a lost puppy when you turned the corner. It was cute for a second, though annoyance quickly replaced that feeling as you walked over and let him in.

You weren’t exactly ready to have a full blown talk, but then again, no one ever was. What made it easier was your roommate never returned that semester, assuming she dropped out, so you basically had the whole dorm to yourself for the rest of the year. Or until someone had a roommate issue and needed a change. Didn’t really matter to you at that point.

There was really only one thing on your mind and that was getting Leon to explain this whole ordeal to you. You needed detail, clarification, anything to help you understand what’d been going on behind your back during that time. And he did, telling you just about everything he could; who suggested the bet, who roped him into the idea, the second guessings he had since the start, how he could’ve done literally anything else to avoid the way it all played out, everything.

Obviously you couldn’t just forgive him like that, even though he kept telling you how sorry he was and how terrible he felt about it. You wanted to forgive him, but you weren’t ready, and he understood that. He would’ve been satisfied with any response you gave him, so having been given the chance to really explain and have you listen was more than enough in his eyes.

“And just so you know, my friends aren’t going to let you off the hook,” you pulled your legs up so you were sitting criss-cross on the bed, looking across at Leon who was sitting on the bed opposite of yours.

“Yeah, I know..” he chuckled awkwardly, reaching a hand back to rub at the nape of his neck. “I was honestly expecting them to jump me, but they just give me evil looks whenever they see me.”

You couldn’t help but let out a small laugh, making a mental note to question Sky and Ella about that later. “You’ll never get nice looks from them again and I won’t be vouching for you.”

Leon nodded, silence blanketing the room as you’d finally run out of things to discuss. Though it was awkward, it was nice to have him hanging around again. “Anyways,” you started, standing up from your bed slowly as you vaguely gestured towards the door, “I need to study, sooo…”

“Oh, yeah, totally, uhm..” he followed suit, standing up from the other bed before sauntering over to the door as you held it open for him. He walked out and turned around almost instantly, a small smile suddenly appearing on his face once his eyes met yours, his arms jerking upwards slightly as if to suggest a hug.

“Don’t push it.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

tags:

@kayotee4 @k-fallingstar @bobastayhigh @mi-zer-y @chasingkennedy @l30nva @espressonerd @jjouki @5tarx @bunnybreadloaves @whoisgami @cyanscribe @c4b3r1a @darichvep @mmmangel @kingtacocat @klee-iii @baby--vera @dakiniii @kenma-izhu @aliidarling @leonsmamacita @deadghxsty @nekoheist @dumbassmortal @cassiecasluciluce @iovewilliams @maeplayscello @deddiemunsonsblog @paranoid-but-android @mariesmain @tteokhwaa @bonnibuckets @eilonwykennedy @1dk-anym0r3 @papatyacikcik @animesnowstorm @lexi-zsy09 @mylifedoesntexist @ifeellikedying @yourmommylol04 @ravioli19 @dakiniii @papichulo120627

(few of your blogs won't pop up, i tried though 😩)

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

@simpdechicos This is so cute, thank you for asking this <3

Warnings: None, just fluff

Part 1

Roughly a month had passed since the initial switch. The next day you were back in your own bodies but once every few days you'd switch again.

You tried to go on as per usual but it was hard sometimes, there were definitely things you had to learn and relearn as you went on, same with Slash.

You promised Slash you'd never do anything regarding Guns and he was content go shopping for you if you were running low on groceries when the switch happened to occur.

You were asleep next to Slash, his soft whimpering drew you from your sleep. Normally that would just mean he was horny but today when you opened your eyes you saw you'd switched again.

His eyes were watery and a pout pulled at his lips as he weakly tugged on your shirt. "What the hell is this..?" He muttered. You raised a brow at him but any questions you had were answered when he pushed the blanket off and you saw blood soaked into his shorts and the sheets.

"Oh, I got my period." You grumbled, still groggy from sleep.

"I have to deal with it and it hurts." You nodded.

"There are tampons in the bathroom, in the cabinet under the sink." You said, gesturing to the bathroom.

Slash clung to you, pulling himself closer to you. "No, I'm not using that, give me something else."

You wrapped your arms around him. "I don't have anything else."

"Please?" He looked up at you with those teary eyes and you couldn't say no to him.

You got out of bed and rushed to the nearest store to get pads and a few more things, something for the pain since you were pretty sure you were out, and his favourite snacks and drinks that weren't alcoholic to make him happy.

When you got back home you came to your shared room and found him sitting naked on the toilet, holding himself tightly as he cried. "Hey, it's ok." You said in a soft voice as you knelt in front of him, placing the bags down.

"No it's not." He muttered. "It hurts, it hurts everywhere and I-I can't stop crying and I've just been sitting here and it feels weird when it gushes out like that." You nodded as you listened to him complain about it. "How do you do this and then make me food..?"

You wrapped your arms around him, letting him cry into your shoulder. "I don't, I make you go out and get me food." He didn't laugh, he just whined into you. "I got you snacks and stuff, just put on a pad and I'll go-"

"No." He said, interrupting you. "Don't go, help." You couldn't blame him, you knew what it felt like and you just wanted to cling to him until it was over.

You got him some clean clothes, mostly his actual clothes since that's what you always like to wear, and taught him how to use a pad. You took the sheets to wash them and he tried to help you put clean ones back on the bed before he just crawled into bed and opened up some of the snacks you got, going straight for the Advil.

You put the sheets in the washing machine and went to get the heating pad.

"Tell me if it's too hot." You said as you set it down on his stomach, he whined and pushed it lower. He'd already set up a movie, he wasn't totally unaware of what he was supposed to do when you were on your period.

You spent the day doing what he asked and making sure he was alright, getting him snacks, drinks, whatever he needed. He still needed you to come into the bathroom with him whenever he had to change his pad.

"I didn't know it was this bad." He mumbled, curled up next to you as another movie came to an end.

"Yeah, and day one isn't even the worst." You said, dreading the next few days.

"No..." He whined, looking up at you. "Tell me your fucking with me." You sighed and shook your head as you went to set up another movie.

You both stayed curled up and fell asleep watching another movie.

The next morning you were back in your body and Slash was gone. You went to the bathroom to replace your pad and when you came back out Slash was setting up the bed to be a pillow fort, he'd gone out to get your favourite snacks and drinks and even took out your favourite movies.

He brought the cats to give you cuddles and rushed over when you came out of the bathroom. "I'm sorry." He said as he wrapped his arms around you.

"Why are you sorry?" You asked, melting into the hug.

"I didn't know your body was trying to kill you." He picked you up and carried you over to the bed, gently placing you down and handing you the heating pad. "You're not moving for the next week." He said, opening the Advil and handing you one along with a glass of water.

"Slash, I can move." You protested, not that you were all too thrilled with the thought of moving.

"Fuck you, no you can't, what happened yesterday? Murder, hell on earth, not happening." He stated, getting on the bed with you and pulling you close, the cats slowly swarming you and looking for warmth.

You wanted to refuse but a) you knew no matter what you said he would just ignore it and make you sit and b) you didn't want to refuse, this was exactly what you wanted.

So, you let him worship you for a week. You let him take care of things around the house, you tried to help as much as you could but he would just pick you up and bring back to bed.

[taiyaki-o]

HI NEIGHBOR! pt. 2

read pt 1 here!

synopsis: you and Megumi grow even closer, and some new developments have your life changing for the better

tags: gojo x gn!reader, fluff, non curse au

A few days pass, and you’re making breakfast when you hear a knock at the door. You dust off your hands as you answer.

“Hm? Oh, Megumi! It’s you!” You smile as you spot the boy, and he’s clutching the stack of books. He looks away a bit bashful and attempts to hold out the stack.

“I finished them. You can have them back,” he mumbles. You chuckle and take the books out of his hands before he drops them all.

“Did you enjoy them? Which one was your favorite?”

“I liked the book on sea animals a lot.”

“That’s one of my favorites too! The diagrams are really interesting, don’t you think?”

He nods. You notice that his gaze lingers on said book a little wistfully.

“Do you…want to keep it?”

Your heart melts a bit at the way his eyes light up.

“Really?” He asks shyly.

“Of course! I haven’t touched it for some time anyway. I think it’ll be better off with you.” You smile and give the book back to him, and he hesitates, but then grabs the book with two hands and hugs it to his chest.

“…”

You let out a soft grunt as he softly tackles you in a hug, and you quickly lift the books that are still in your arms out of the way.

“Woah, easy there!” You laugh. You find a space to dump the books and bend down a bit to hug him back.

“Thank you,” He mumbles softly but earnestly. You smile softly.

“Anytime.”

He brings his head back suddenly, his nose wrinkling.

“What’s that smell?”

You look up to see smoke coming from what should be your breakfast.

“Hm? Oh shit-“

-

After you’ve fanned away the smoke and thrown out your now burnt breakfast, you invite Megumi to come inside instead of just stand outside your door.

“Sorry about that, kid. Forgot to turn the stove off, silly me,” you say as you put the pans in the sink. A smile ghosts across Megumi’s face as well, and he sits politely on the edge of your couch.

It’s then that you notice something else.

“Where’s Gojo? Does he know you’re here?” You ask.

Megumi shakes his head. “He went out to buy some food. He’s probably coming back soon, though.”

“Well, do you have his phone number or anything? I think I should let him know that you’re here in case he comes back to an empty house,” you laugh.

You sit down on the couch next to Megumi, shutting off your phone.

“Do you watch any TV? Or is it just books?” you ask.

“A couple,” Megumi replies. “But mostly books.”

“Which ones?”

You end up putting on a few episodes of Pokémon, and Megumi curls up on your couch as you two sit together in comfortable silence.

-

SMACK!

Gojo groans as he hits his head against the steering wheel of his car, an angry red welt already forming on his forehead.

“That goddamned brat-!” Gojo seethes. He stares forlornly at the red light in front of him, dreading the interaction to come. Not only had Megumi forced him to be in your *angelic, beautiful* presence again, but the kid had the audacity to give you his number?! The mere thought of it made his cheeks turn cherry red.

He taps his fingers against the wheel, and looks over at the takeout bag sitting in the passengers seat. He sighs, rubbing his temples. Getting a new job, taking care of Megumi, moving to a new apartment…it was starting to get to him. Being a single father definitely wasn’t in his life plan.

Ten minutes later, he stood in front of your door, steeling himself for what was going to come.

“…”

He wants to tear his hair out. Why was he so nervous? This wasn’t anything special. He would open the door, pick up the brat, and go home. That’s it. He takes a deep breath.

knock knock knock!

The door opens, and Gojo immediately feels all the air escape from his lungs.

“Hey! Good to see you again,” You smile up at him, and he thinks heart might burst from inside his chest.

“Yeah, I just went to grab some takeout. Is, uh-is Megumi still here?” He rubs the back of his neck.

Megumi pops out from behind your legs, and you chuckle.

“Um-the restaurant gave me way more food than I expected-do you want some?” Gojo asks nervously.

(This is a lie. The second he saw your message he turned his car around and ordered another portion of food in hopes that he’d have an excuse to talk to you.)

“Oh! Are you sure?” You ask. He nods earnestly. “Well, do you want to come inside then? We were just watching Pokémon.” You ruffle Megumi’s hair a bit with a chuckle.

“Digimon is way better.” Gojo blurts out without thinking. He mentally smacks himself upside the head.

Stop being a fucking nerd, Satoru! No one wants to hear your opinions on Digimon!

You scoff in fake indignation. “It is not! Digimon wishes it was half as iconic as Pokémon.”

“Digimon is so much cooler though.”

“Is not.”

“Is too.”

“Are you coming inside or not?” You laugh. He blushes again, but steps inside your apartment. He does his best to ignore the familiar scent of your perfume in the air.

You grab some plates as Gojo unpacks the food, and soon the smell of Chinese takeout fills your apartment. Megumi retreats to the couch again to continue watching while you and Gojo sit at the kitchen counter.

“The kid give you any trouble?” Gojo chuckles.

“Not at all. He’s been great.”

“I think he’s taken a liking to you. At least more so than me.”

“Come on, I’m sure you’re great company.”

“Ahh, not really. ‘Specially because it’s just us. I don’t know what goes through his head sometimes.”

You desperately want to ask about the nature of their relationship, but you bite your tongue. You barely know these people, after all. No matter how much you enjoy their presence, you’d never pry into their private lives like that.

Luckily (or unluckily, depending on how you view it), Gojo notices and he chuckles.

“I know what you’re thinking. And no, the kids not mine. Not biologically speaking. His mom passed away and his dad…isn’t in a good enough place to take care of him.”

Gojo sighs, throwing a look over his shoulder at the boy. “I’m all he’s got.”

You swear you see a pained expression on his face, but by the time he turns back it’s gone. “Pretty shitty to get stuck with me, huh? I’d feel sorry for him if he wasn’t a little shit.”

“Watch your mouth, mister. I might have to call the cops for child abuse.” You snicker as you point your knife at him jokingly. You feel a pang of sadness, however, as you process the information.

“I’d imagine it’s tough for the both of you…” you sigh. “I mean, did you plan on having kids?”

“Not a damn bit,” Gojo confirms. “Kinda feels like my life’s done a complete one eighty overnight.”

“You guys just moved here too, right? Where’d you come from?”

“Kyoto. Got a new job as a teacher at some school nearby. The kid seemed to want a fresh start anyway.”

Your eyes widen. “No way! I’m a teacher too! I teach at a school nearby!”

“Well, would you look at that! You wanna trade tips later?” Gojo jokes. “Wow, that’s…that’s a really crazy coincidence. Where do you teach?”

“Tokyo Tech. Or Tokyo Metropolitan Technical School, if you have a stick up your ass.”

Now it’s Gojo’s turn to widen his eyes. “That’s where my new job is!”

The two of you sit in stunned silence for a moment, before bursting out into laughter.

“Small world, huh?” You say as you catch your breath.

“Yeah, I guess so,” Gojo says as an ecstatic smile stretches across his face.

“I take it you’re the new janitor?”

“Oh shut up, you.”

“Can you two please keep it down? I can’t hear the TV,” Megumi looks over at you and Gojo with a slight scowl on his face. Gojo sticks his tongue out at Megumi, who simply rolls his eyes and returns his attention to the screen.

You let out another one of your angelic laughs, and Gojo physically kicks himself under the table to keep himself sane. He’s barely been keeping it together since he realized you two would be coworkers. The blush that’s fighting to travel up his neck takes all his effort to control. The thought that you’d be his coworker, that he’d be seeing you every day…saying hi to you in the halls…grading papers together….growing closer….

“Hellooo? Earth to Gojo?” You wave a hand in front of his face.

“H-huh? Oh, sorry!” He snaps out of his mini trance. “Zoned out there for a second, haha…”

He shoves a spoonful of rice into his mouth to give himself time to think before he embarrasses himself.

I really am a mess…

a/n: part 2! didn’t expect this to turn into a series, but ig it’s happening lol

pt 3 here!

feel free to message me/leave a comment if you want to be added to the taglist!

taglist: @96jnie

[siphoklansan]

HEYHEY SIPPY!!! For the ask game, I hope you don't mind me asking for... kind of a lot because I'm really curious jskdkfs but you can cut some out if want to, dw!

🌹♥️♠️⚗️📚🏆 for Siphok and 🌟🤖 for Pin-cha?

RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS ᝰ.ᐟ

sippy and riddle are friends! both of them have one thing in common: a stickler for rules. the only difference is that sippy doesn’t follow crazy rules (ex. heartslabyul’s strange traditions!)

fun fact: they both hated each other before the end of book 1 because:

⤷ sippy likes to voice out her opinions, so she gets into a yelling match from time to time with riddle when she disagrees with his behavior. ( “IT’S JUST A TART, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD!” 💀 /j but yeah something like that-)

⤷ riddle hates how she doesn’t give two shits about his rule. ( “Nuh-uh.” “What do you mean “Nuh-Uh” ?!?”) and she also defends adeuce when they break the rules, much to their surprise.

at the end of book 1 they both had a truce and became some sort of buddies to each other! they both share an interest in small critters <3

ACE TRAPPOLA & DEUCE SPADE ᝰ.ᐟ

besties for life (adeuce will not admit it) they always go everywhere with each other and grim!

sippy is #1 deuce defender because she kins him😭 so ace rarely wins and argument when she’s around. sippy tutors deuce for history class (more on this later!) and deuce returns the favor by helping her fix things around ramshackle <3

like deuce, sippy bickers a lot with ace but it’s all fun and games. she’s like a tired mom with him (begrudgingly watches his basketball matches because ace insists on it so much, secretly doesn’t mind and enjoys it lmao-). I lowkey see ace as a therapist friend for some reason since he’s usually the voice of reason so she goes to him for advice sometimes! Only for certain occasions though cuz we know how ace is💀 /hj

DIVUS CREWEL ᝰ.ᐟ

#1 dad for sippy. they both go on shopping sprees together (crewel insists on it, because sippy wears the same outfit everyday and it irks him 💀). sippy isn’t the best at potions class so he tutors her privately at times!

crewel designs outfits for sippy sometimes! in the ghost bride event, her suit was tailored to her by crewel.

a short angst scenario for them would be sippy feels bad to see him as a dad because she doesn’t know if crewel sees her as a daughter but he actually feels the same😔.

other than that, sippy got a little more strict because she picked up some habits from crewel (much to adeuce’s dismay😭).

MOZUS TREIN (doesn’t look like him, i know) ᝰ.ᐟ

that one proud grand-uncle (?) TM /j

sippy is likes history classes, so it’s like a breath of fresh air for him in class (“Finally, someone who does not snore every 2 minutes.” /j)

not much to comment on them, but one thing trein dislikes about sippy is that she covers for students who are slacking off in class ( ex. covering grim’s sleeping form with a book) and he’s just like -_- but trein counters that by deducting both her and the other student (who’s mostly grim) participation points💀

ASHTON VARGAS ᝰ.ᐟ

that one crazy and upbeat uncle at family gatherings TM 💀 /j

while sippy is good in athletics, she doesn’t do very well in flying due to a small fear of heights.

⤷ “THE BROOM IS TOO THIN IT CAN’T CARRY MY FATASS!” “LANGUAGE! But no, it *can* hold your weight.”

sippy dreads vargas’s class because he pushes her more than anyone else.

⤷ “lift some more weights! your arms are like noodles!” vargas says, as he dumps some more shit into her arms-

KALIM AL ASIM ᝰ.ᐟ

pin-cha and kalim is like the worst nightmare for jamil, who’s already acting like a single mom who works two jobs who loves her kids and never stops-

yes, they go on carpet rides together🥺💓 pin-cha reminds kalim of one of his siblings back at home so they hit it off pretty well!

jamil is a little weirded out how well pin-cha is good at household chores but is also secretly relieved (and concerned) how pin-cha is babysitting kalim and not the other way around /hj

CHEKA KINGSCHOLAR ᝰ.ᐟ (NOT A SHIP ART!!)

RRAAAGHSGSHHSHGSHSG FINALLY SOMEONE MENTIONS CHEKAAAAA!! THEY’RE BESTFRIENDS, YOUR HONOR😭✨

cue leona thanking the gods for giving cheka someone to play with so he can finally nap in peace LMAO

cheka drags pin-cha away from his cleaning duties in rsa! the headmage of rsa adores them both (happy grandpa noises) <3

cheka enjoys when pin-cha shows his unique magic, summoning little spirits around to play with them. it’s like having extra friends to play!

yes, they both call leona “unca”💀 leona had to call sippy over to help him babysit them both (an excuse to be with her I MEAN WHAAATTT⁉️ I DIDN’T SAY ANYTHING-)

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE ASK, TARU!!💖💖 SO SORRY FOR THE LATE AND VERY LONG REPLY😭🙏 I had a lot of fun with this ask though I can’t find the link to the OG post anymore :((

I swear this whole post looks like some character who is liked by everybody but I promise you it’s not the case😭 she just has a good impression on the professors AHUSHSUGSYSI BUT ANYWAY I’ll list some characters who doesn’t like sippy (but i’ll leave the reasoning out for now👀)

⤷ ruggie

⤷ sebek

⤷ idia

⤷ jamil (kinda like a hate-neutral relationship?)

With that said, thank you again for the ask!!🥺💖🫶🫶

[mtkay13]

A toast to freedom. more info below!

I'm back......... -sigh- I'm so behind on everything I want to post and ofc i just gotta.... post my latest pieces instead of catching up. Oh well. So the illustrations mostly speak for themselves but I know I can find stuff to say about them, so-- First of all, the right side was drawn first, and it was not supposed to be about the nails nor was it supposed to have a companion piece in the first place. I'll be real: I just wanted to draw ZZS's big chest and make it classical portrait style. But I also ended up sort of horny-bonking myself into adding some substance and storytelling to it and put a nail right there (how convenient), haha. It did give me the idea of making a mirrored image, a year and a half later, of ZZS and six nails in, right before he's about to leave--particularly because it illustrates something I've always been QUITE peculiar about when it comes to designing ZZS, and it's the state of his body. At the start, it struck me how in the book, he's described as being skeletal--and how much priest insists on that. I pretty much immediately started trying to draw TYK ZZS as very skinny, because I felt it would make the nails much more dreadful (on top of being faithful to canon which I'm also a bit prickly about). Somehow, while ZZS being well built otherwise is both mentioned in canon a couple of times and influenced by how he looks in SHL, I later found that pushing it a bit further would increase the contrast with how he looks like in TYK and make the nails' impact on his body and health even more striking. I guess that from there, over the past year, I made him bigger and bigger....... I assume because I found it was interesting? (I mean, I still do, but--) Mainly because I love that such a big dude can nonetheless make himself completely unnoticeable, and this image of a tiny grandma turning around a corner and unfolding herself into a big buff guy.... ALSO HLY's looming shadow being this big threatening guy....... IDK ITS MY JAM (not to mention, again, that it's such a strong contrast with TYK ZZS!) A little note--I think I've mentioned so before, but working in animation, I've gotten the habit of trying to "push things" or exaggerate them to make them a bit bolder and striking/powerful. I definitely feel like it has been an impulse on both ends; in the way I draw the skinnier, skeletal ZZS as well as in the way I draw the healthy, top of his game ZZS. Exaggerating things slightly and pushing them out of the molds is an interesting exercise overall, especially with character design (even if at some point we end up toning those exaggeration down, we can at least keep the more interesting elements developed through exaggeration.) So yeah. I thought the two would work well together, and I tried telling things through their expressions, posture, etc.

[moonstruckme]

omg hi! I love your writing so much and I’ve seen that you asked for doctor Remus requests and he’s on my mind day and night, I simply love how you write him. I don’t know if it’s a thing in other countries as well but in mine you have to go to the doctors around your birthday for like check ups and stuff like that, mine is coming up and I’m already dreading it (mostly because of the blood test, I end up fainting every time😣) but I’m sure it would be better if it was with Remus instead🥰

Thanks for requesting sweetheart, hope it goes okay!!

cw: description of anxiety, mention of needle, implied blood

doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 972 words

The doctor’s voice is so soothing you keep almost forgetting where you are. You don’t even think he’s doing it on purpose. 

“Alright.” He catches your ankle before you can kick him, sharing a smile with you as he pockets the small mallet he’s been using to test your reflexes. “Everything seems perfect.” 

“Thanks,” you say, then feel stupid.

You don’t know why you’re acting like he’s complimented you. You’re getting flustered by his raspy timbre and attractive hands (which had, just a few minutes before, felt gently along your neck and the underside of your jaw like you were a thing to be treated with care. Not that that’s important). The doctor—Remus, he’d told you to call him—smiles politely anyway. 

“All that’s left to do is get you sorted at the lab,” he says, typing something quickly into his computer, “and then you’re free to go. Ready?” 

“Um, yeah.” It’s a struggle to hear yourself over the beating of your heart. You can only hope you sound normal. You’d known this was coming, and still it’s giving you the cold sweats. “I just feel like I should maybe warn you, I tend not to do well with the blood test.” 

He glances over. “You’ve had problems before?” 

“I sometimes faint.” Your foot starts jiggling of its own accord. You don’t notice until Remus’ gaze drops to it. You stop. “Every time, actually.” 

“That’s fine,” he says, straightening and turning away from the computer. “In that case, I’ll probably keep you in here so we can do it with you lying down. Does that sound alright?” 

You blink. “Um, sure.” 

The nerves are hard to miss in your voice now, and you can’t quite meet Remus’ eyes as he directs a gentle smile your way. He gives your knee a squeeze on his way to the door.

“I’m going to go get some things,” he tells you. “I’ll be back soon, but while I’m gone I just want you to practice taking some deep breaths, yeah?” 

You nod. Another flash of that small, reassuring smile as he goes out the door. 

You try to do as he says, forcing your lungs to fill and then empty and attempting to ignore the pounding of your heartbeat. You can feel it in your face, in your temples, in your teeth. You’ll think you’re starting to get it to slow, and then a pair of footsteps will come down the hall and it’ll speed right back up again. 

It’s almost a relief when Remus comes back, putting an end to your apprehensive torment. 

“You can go ahead and lay back, love,” he says, holding the supplies low where you can hardly see them, and you take care not to try. The paper crinkles underneath you as you flatten out on your back. Remus chuckles when it tears a bit and you wince. “You’re fine, it can’t be helped. I’m just going to feel for a vein, alright? Not doing anything just yet.” 

You keep your gaze on the ceiling as his gloved finger probes gently at the crook of your elbow. It’s hopelessly plain and undiverting up there, no tiles to count or anything. 

“How are you feeling?” Remus asks conversationally. 

“Okay.” Your voice comes out with a bit of squeak to it, not entirely convincing. 

“Keep breathing for me.” The warmth of his touch leaves, and then a rubbery tourniquet is being tied around your arm. “I don’t want you to worry about fainting. It’s perfectly alright if you do, but we’re going to do our best to keep that from happening, okay?” 

You nod. “Okay.” 

“Good, just try and stay relaxed.” His voice drops lower, and now you know the soothing effect is intentional, each of his words mellow and mollifying. “Any plans for after you leave here?” 

“I, um.” You tense when you feel the cold wipe swipe over your elbow. Remus thumbs over your forearm calmingly. “I don’t know.” 

“Seems like you deserve a sweet or something after this, yeah? What sort of things do you like?” 

“I did buy myself ice cream,” you admit, “to have after I get home.” 

“Smart girl.” There’s a smile in Remus’ voice. You’re tempted to lift your head and see it for yourself, but you don’t. “I like the pre-planning. What kind is it?” 

You feel the odd bite of the needle into your skin, and your breath catches. 

“You’re alright,” he promises you, rubbing the inside of your forearm again. “What kind of ice cream did you get, sweetheart?” 

You swallow. “It’s that new, fancy gelato kind.” Your voice sounds higher than before. 

“Oh, I haven’t tried that yet. What flavor?” 

You’re starting to get a bit dizzy. “Chocolate cherry?”

“That sounds fantastic. I’m quite partial to chocolate myself.” You feel something shift, and Remus says, “Nearly done. You might be convincing me to pick some of that up. You’ll have to come back here and give me your thoughts once you’ve finished it.” 

You laugh a little, and he echoes it. 

“Keep still,” he reminds you. 

“Sorry.” 

“No, don’t be.” You feel the needle come out. It surprises you, a quiet whimper slipping from inside your throat. He tsks kindly. “All done, love. You did really well.” 

“Seriously?” You lift your head, and Remus’ eyes are faintly amused as they meet yours. He’s sticking a bandage over your arm. 

“Very seriously,” he confirms. “You did beautifully. That ice cream is well deserved.” 

The laugh that leaves you is light and pitchy with disbelief. “Thank you. I really owe you your own ice cream, after this.” 

He wraps a hand around your elbow, helping you to sit back up. “Careful,” he says lightly, “I might hold you to that. Next time I see you, I’ll be expecting a detailed review at the least.”

[cowpokeomens]

The Bolter

Pairing: Joakim “Jolly” Karlsson x Reader

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: None, tooth rottingly sweet

A/N: *taps mic* is this thing on? based on The Bolter by ts duh. Thank you to @throughwoodsanddirt for beta-ing half of this before I went off the rails and finished it in one sitting with zero edits. I’m a lost cause!

Jolly remembers clearly the first time he saw you. It would be hard to forget, given the gargantuan white gown you were wearing when you walked into the bar, veil askew in a crown of braids and curls.

He just wanted a beer. Touring is difficult, being in the studio with an uninspired Noah is resolutely more difficult. Seeing you walk into a pub wearing a wedding gown at 6 in the evening just confirms his suspicion that it was a rough day for everyone.

Lifting your skirts in a way that is far from becoming, you manage to plop yourself onto a barstool with a huff. The layers of fabric pool around you in a way that necessitates additional barstools on either side of you, leaving a seat between the both of you.

He’s staring, which would be rude if not for the fact that you clearly must be lost.

You catch his look, sighing in anticipation; it seems like you were hoping you wouldn’t have to explain why you are wearing a cupcake of a gown in a place that replaces the peanuts on the counter every three years.

Too bad, Jolly doesn’t say.

“Runaway bride.” You offer flatly, ordering something with whiskey in it.

He nods, as if that explains everything. It doesn’t.

Giving the bartender a grateful smile, you take a long drink from your glass, setting it down slowly. He didn’t notice before, but your hands are shaking.

“It’s like-“ You begin, hesitating. “You’re walking down this pristine, white aisle to a death march on a church organ, right? And everyone you have ever known is there. And you get to the end and - And you can see your entire fucking life ahead of you, only it’s awful, it’s not what you want at all.” Your brows slant down with dread, eyes misting over as you shake your head, playing with the condensation on your glass.

Jolly nods, getting a clearer picture of your circumstances. “It seems like you made the right call, then.” He offers.

You sigh again, sounding exhausted. “My mother is going to kill me. His mother is going to kill me.” Your eyes are wide, and Jolly can practically see you spiraling in your head.

Jolly never did the whole “marriage” thing, but he can understand what it feels like to confront your life and realize you hate it. He had a similar confrontation years ago, wherein he realized he hated his relationship, hated his job, hated the circumstances that landed him there. It was almost too easy for him to set off with nothing but a visitor visa and a suitcase to his name to play rockstar in a foreign land.

So, yeah, he supports running away a little every now and again.

He clicks his tongue in his cheek. “That sounds like a real risk. But-” He slides his empty beer mug back towards the bartender, nodding for another. “If you go back and marry whoever it is you so clearly don’t want to marry, I’ll have to kill you.”

It makes you crack a smile, and for a second he can see what you were aiming for: despite the haphazard position of your veil, the hair that escaped its ornate, bobby pinned prison, and the dingy stains to the hem of your puritanically white dress, you make a beautiful bride.

He tells you so, too. It makes your cheeks flush visibly, as you turn away to finish off your drink in one gulp. You take a deep breath, squaring your shoulders, nodding once.

“Okay. I’m going to tell him I don’t want to get married.” You say, sounding like it is mostly directed at yourself.

Jolly nods anyway. Running out on the day of the wedding probably clued him in, He doesn’t voice aloud, knowing it wouldn’t help.

“I’ll cover your drink, go get ‘em, tiger.” He says instead.

You smile at him again, a sweet thing despite the doubt that fills your eyes. “Thank you.” Is your response, though he feels it’s not just for the drink.

He returns the grin, shooing you away with his hands. You dismount the barstool with a truly pathetic amount of grace, and he catches a glimpse of your ratty sneakers through the layers of tulle and silk. The image makes him smile as you march out of the bar, chin high in the air.

The bartender returns with a newly filled mug. “Been a while since we had a bolter.” He remarks with a grin at Jolly.

Jolly hums, lifting the glass to his lips, but says nothing.

__________________________

Echo Park is decidedly too hip and too crowded for Jolly’s taste. He likes kids, but that doesn’t mean he wants to hear about three hundred of them screaming and running around off-leash while their parents drone on about GMO’s and HOA’s and micro-dosing kale.

He manages to find a quieter patch of grass near the lake to settle on while the guys buy fourteen dollar coffee from some hipster place Nicholas was raving about last week. His coffee tastes like ass, and he can’t even really admire the view with all the stupid swan boats on the water.

He appreciates a gimmick, but the manufactured romance of a boat shaped like a swan is a bit much for anyone.

Eyes roaming across the cluster of obnoxiously white faux birds, his gaze lands on someone standing precariously on a boat. It sways dangerously as their arms flounder to stay balanced on the precipice of one broad, white wing. His eyebrows knit together in confusion, but he almost chokes on his coffee when the figure jumps into the water.

Is this lake even safe to swim in? He wonders, swearing he saw signs advising against it. A quick glance around confirms him that no one else was swimming, despite the warmth of the afternoon.

The figure in the water appears to be swimming away from their boat, though - their rowing partner yelling after them, too far away for Jolly to make out what’s being said. He realizes suddenly that the diver is growing closer to him, swimming towards land.

Narrowing his eyes, he tries to discern if this is a man or a woman, if they need help, if something terrible happened to them, if -

Oh.

He remembers that panicked expression.

You’re closer to the shore now, close enough that he stands up to walk to the water’s edge to help drag you out of the water.

You smell awful, whatever flesh-eating bacteria that lives in the water left a greasy, iridescent film on your skin that he can see in the direct sunlight. Your sopping wet clothes cling to your frame stiffly, restricting your movements as you clamber up onto the grass, gasping for air.

Jolly has no words for the absurdity of the situation. When he speaks, it’s the first thing that his mind can arrange into a sentence.

“What are you running from this time?”

Your chest is still heaving from the exertion of swimming all the way to the shore as you look over at him. Recognition flashes in your eyes, and you grin up at him. “First date.”

He must look lost, because you’re cackling now. You gather your breath as you tug at your shirt, as if stretching it would somehow dry it. “He asked me about my expectations of him as a husband.” You elaborate as you pick algae out from under your nails. “Said something about my duties as a wife, and I just-”

“Bolted.” He finishes for you. The impish grin you sport doesn’t reach your eyes as you shrug in response.

He understands. That sounds like a catastrophic first date: stuck on a boat shaped like a bird with some trad-dude who probably says things like “Alpha Male” unironically. Jolly commends you for being brave enough to jump to get away - flesh-eating bacteria and all.

You huff a breath, looking around with your hands on your hips. “I should get going. Those stupid boats are fast, and if he gets to the parking lot before I do, he might try to wear my face or something.”

Jolly can’t fight the snort that escapes him. “The boats are stupid.” He pauses, hesitating, but continues, “Do you need a lift?”

You wave him off, though. “Nah, I’ll be alright. Besides,” You raise an eyebrow at him playfully. “Maybe you want to wear my face, too.”

His laugh is a puff of air out of his nose, grin widening. “You caught me. Better get going, then.”

Your returning smile is blinding, especially given the contrast of being covered in… whatever all that shit is. “Catch ‘ya later!” Is your good-bye as you turn and half-jog towards what Jolly assumes is the parking lot.

Noah appears at his side then, staring after you. “What’s up with ‘The Creature From the Black Lagoon?’”

Jolly shakes his head, not sure where to begin.

________________________

Jolly doesn’t fully understand the appeal of dimly lit restaurants, and he’s beginning to fear it has something to do with his age. How is he supposed to see the menu with three tea lights to illuminate the entire table?

He orders something he thinks is fish with rice, but who knows? It could have been the filet mignon, with how goddamn dark it is in here.

Noah is swishing his wine around in his glass like that’ll make it taste better; he refuses to admit he doesn’t actually like Cabernet Sauvignon, and the subtle scrunching of his nose gives him away every time.

It makes Jolly chuckle quietly as he sips from his own glass. The wine is dry, but not awful. Certainly better than their Yellowtail days.

He’s unsure how, exactly, the next few moments transpire. He vaguely registers Nicholas reaching for the bottle at the same time as Noah, but he pays it no mind until the dark red liquid has escaped its vessel in favor of staining the white tablecloth and cascading onto his trousers.

His only response is a long-suffering sigh, eyes directed at the ceiling. Nicholas is chastising Noah, who’s insisting he didn’t do anything.

“It’s fine, guys, shit happens. It’s not like it was good anyway.” Jolly brushes them off as he stands, setting his napkin on an unsoiled section of the table as he looks around for the restroom.

The door swings shut just as he spots it, the tacky gold of the plaque reading “Monsieur” glinting at him with the movement.

Making his way over quickly, he resists the urge to wipe at his stained pants until he gets inside the restroom. He’s reaching for the paper towels when a flash of something catches his attention.

Legs.

Legs?

Yep, legs, dangling out of the window.

“Motherfuck-“ A voice hisses from the other side of the glass.

“Um.” Jolly starts brilliantly. “Do you need help?”

He hears a sigh, then the aforementioned legs drop down to the tiled floor, still turned away from him.

“Look, I’m not some weirdo, okay-“ You begin explaining yourself, freezing as you turn around. “Oh. You.”

Jolly can’t even try to fight back his grin. “We really must stop meeting like this.”

You smile back, giggling despite yourself. It goes beyond coincidence - it’s absurd.

Jolly leans against the counter, long since forgetting why he even walked into the restroom to begin with. “So, what’s the crime now?”

Your brow furrows as you share a knowing look with him. “Trust fund guy. Said he didn’t mind that I went to a state school.” Rolling your eyes, your hands smooth down your dress in a motion that could almost be called self-conscious. “Like, sorry my parents didn’t pay for an Ivy League and I had to settle on plebian state school, you fucking twat.”

Catching your reflection in the mirror, you idly pull a stray leaf out of your hair before turning back to Jolly. “ And yourself?” You prod lightly.

He gestures behind him, past the faux-wood door. “Buddy spilled wine on me. Here I am.”

Frowning sympathetically, you nod. “Hopefully something better than the Cab. I’ve had vinegar better than that shit.”

It makes Jolly laugh, how candidly you speak. Your expression is open, not hiding anything. He gets the feeling you couldn’t lie even if you tried.

“So, the window?” He looks around you. The window is easily 4 feet off the ground, a steep climb for anyone, much less someone in cocktail attire.

You look sheepish. “Well I couldn’t walk out the front door. He might tell the maître d’ that I stole his pocket watch or letter opener or whatever it is rich people bring to restaurants.”

Jolly huffs a laugh, nodding in agreement. “Understood. C’mon then.”

You blink at him, confused. “Where?”

“The window?” He states like it’s obvious. It’s not, apparently. “Thought you were trying to get out of here? I’m assuming you have a getaway car.”

You flash him a smile that’s becoming familiarly dazzling. “This will make you an accessory, y’know. Much different from an innocent bystander.”

Jolly nods somberly. “Oh, I know. But,” He pauses, walking over to the window, “There’s escape in escaping. Up you go.”

He bends his knee, giving you a step to climb on to better reach the freedom awaiting you on the other side of the window.

Your eyes are brimming with mirth, clearly pleased with his offer. Stepping up gingerly, you grab his shoulder for stability, his hand resting on your back to help steady you.

Getting through the window looks infinitely easier this time as you shimmy through the opening. Though, Jolly reckons, the ease of your escape is definitely hindered by the fact that you have to army crawl underneath a bush directly outside the aforementioned window.

When you burst through the foliage, Jolly can only see your death trap heels and the torn hem of your dress. You squat down to wave at him, whisper-shouting “Thank you!” before taking off in the opposite direction.

Turning to the mirror to his left, Jolly takes in his own reflection. He looks a little flushed, though he supposes that’s from the exertion of getting you through the window. The stain on his pants, long since dried by now, stares back at him accusingly from the mirror. No way is it coming out now.

Whatever. He owns other pants.

__________________________

The late autumn air bites at Jolly’s cheeks as he hurries through the glass door of the coffee shop. It’s the closest to the studio, which could be convenient enough for him without the fact that their espresso is also the best in the tri-state area.

It’s warm in the shop, a fact only further emphasized by the light drizzle that picks up outside as Jolly walks to the register. He orders an Americano, paying quickly before scouting out a good spot for him to sit and doom scroll for a few minutes before he’s needed back in the studio.

His eyes are snagged by a familiar figure reading a book, nestled deeply into the couch that sags against the wall opposite him. Saying he tries to fight the smile that spreads across his face would be a lie, so he settles on grabbing his coffee and walking over to you.

“You know, you’re pretty cute when you’re not frantically running away from something.” He doesn’t know what makes him bold enough to say it, but he hopes the gusto of his words hides the way his hands are trembling around his paper cup.

Your eyes dart up quickly from your book, first slightly alarmed, then softening into a smile. Jolly doesn’t linger on the way it makes him melt a little.

“I always look cute, actually - especially when I’m on the run.” You inform him matter-of-factly, shifting over on the couch so he has room to sit. Despite your efforts, his leg still ends up pressed against yours when he settles into the couch.

“What did you order?” You inquire, nodding at his cup.

He follows your line of sight to the unassuming vessel. “This,” He begins grandly, “Is actually the best Americano you’ll find in town. Or state. Maybe even country.”

Your face morphs into a grimace. “Actually, I just remembered someone is sitting there and I need you to get the hell away from me.”

Jolly’s laugh takes him by surprise, coming out as a snort that gets muffled by the sleeve of his hoodie. “Actually, I can’t tolerate Americano slander, so you’ll need to move.”

_________________________

Your laughter chimes in his ear for a second before you remember where you are, shoulders shaking from the effort of silencing yourself. “Dude, seriously? Americano’s are for babies who can’t handle their espresso.”

Jolly’s eyes roll exaggeratedly as he takes a pointed sip from his coffee. “What did you get then? Something respectable I’m sure.”

Nodding haughtily, you show him your cup with nearly the entire alphabet on it. “This here is an iced white chocolate pumpkin mocha macchiato with oat milk, sweet cream cold foam, and a sprinkle of cinnamon.” It’s your turn to take a long swig from your cup, blinking at him slowly.

A look of revulsion passes overJolly’s face. “I don’t know what half of that means. Was that middle part even English?”

Snorting, it’s your turn to roll your eyes at him. “Better than your nasty watery mess.”

Jolly is thinking of a comeback when his mouth involuntarily blurts, “Let me take you on a date.”

You look as shocked hearing the words as Jolly is to have said them. “A date?”

“Yes, a date.” Jolly confirms, then realizes you’re waiting on him to elaborate.”Whatever you want. Dinner, movie - hell, I’ll drink one of those awful ‘respectable’ coffees you like so much.”

A shy smile sneaks across your lips. Jolly finds himself entranced by the movement. “Yeah, alright, you can take me on a date.” You pause. “On one condition.”

Jolly can’t stop himself from leaning closer to hear you. “Anything.”

Your grin turns impish, mischief dancing in your eyes. “No swan boats.”

_________________________

Jolly is thankful for the few moments that make up this window of opportunity wherein no one is looking for him - or you, more importantly.

The venue is a labyrinth, and he’s suddenly grateful that you’ve both walked it so many times, finalizing seating charts and decorations and where the millions of extra tables would go for the food and the DJ and whoever else wanted a table, apparently.

Everyone is too busy hanging lights and flowers to notice him slip down the west hallway, speed-walking to the bridal suite. He finds it in record time, cracking the wooden door open just slightly.

“Psst. Is the coast clear?” He whispers.

“Well, it’s just me, so I guess so?” Comes your confused response.

Jolly grins as he quickly passes through the doorway, shutting the door behind him.

You’re seated in a plush chair, wearing a short silk robe that Jolly decidedly does not let his eyes rest on. Your hair has been ensnared by giant rollers, carefully arranged and pinned in place. Two half-moon masks rest underneath your eyes, which are now directed at the pair of shoes in Jolly’s hand.

“Baby, why do you have my sneakers-” You’re cut off by his finger against your lips.

“You have a history, y’know.” He begins seriously. “And I saw the shoes you picked out for today. You can’t make a run for it in those things, so I brought you something with a bit more arch support, should you decide to bolt.”

Your wide smile mirrors his own as you gently guide his hand away from your lips. “You think I’ll run, huh?”

“I don’t think anything. I’m just prepared for everything.” He counters, raising his eyebrows at you.

You huff a laugh as you take the shoes from him, setting them in your lap. “Have any dinner plans tonight?” You ask casually.

He shrugs, sitting in the chair opposite you. “My wife and I have plans, actually. Some big wedding she’s been talking about for months now. You?”

You shrug, mimicking him. “Oh, the same. My husband and I are going to a wedding as well. I hear the bride is a real bitch.”

His smirk is infectious, as if you can see the laugh he’s containing. “Well, maybe we’ll run into each other there.”

“Maybe we will.” You flutter your eyelashes at him, sock-clad foot coming up to rub alongside his calf through his sweats.

“I’ll bring the getaway car.” He’s leaning towards you now, staring at your lips.

You close the distance between the two of you, meeting him in a kiss. Pulling away just enough to murmur against his mouth, you say, “I’ll be the one in white.”

[hwanghyunjinenthusiast]

Clothes make the man

AN: There is no plot here. This is just porn. I have nothing to say for myself other than this is Kai's (@lovelyhan ) fault, and this outfit has haunted me for three years now. I had to get this out of my system. I resisted with the Daddy kink this time around but, this is still me largely pushing my 'Joshua is kinkier than I feel like people give him credit for' agenda so. Now I'll disappear in shame and embarrassment *finger guns.*

Synopsis: You don't expect to feel so strongly about one of Joshua's stage outfits.

Heads up: Joshua Hong x Fem! Reader, established relationship, Dom! Joshua, Sub! Reader, mentions of previous thigh riding, Reader mentions boot humping in passing once, scent kink if you squint, hand and arm kink of sorts (Reader is really into Josh's hands and arms), praise (f. receiving), pet names, Reader has an oral fixation, Reader sucks on Josh's fingers, hints of a size kink, dirty talk, mirror sex, nipple play (f. receiving), degradation (f. receiving), risky sex/public sex (they fuck in Josh's dressing room and are vaguely worried about being caught), vaginal fingering (f. receiving), mostly clothed sex, me pushing my big dick! Josh agenda, unprotected piv sex, Reader sucks on Josh's fingers post fingering, it's insinuated that Reader is a masochist, rough sex, dacryphilia kink, creampie and Reader being plugged afterwards.

Word count: 3499

I will block you if you are a minor and have no easily visible indication of your age on your blog if you interact with me in any way.

The cool air from the air conditioner prompts you to tug your cardigan closer to you as you continue to catch up on your scrolling for the day while you wait for Joshua. He texted you that he'd likely be finished with his group shoot for the day in the next half an hour or so and, that you could just wait in his dressing room before the two of you head home.

He finds you completely engrossed with your phone when he does eventually finish up for the day. His lips ticking up in amusement since you still haven't registered his presence.

"Is what's on your phone really more important than your precious boyfriend? I'm hurt," he says with a faux pout to catch your attention. Leaning against his dressing room door.

You pointedly choose to ignore his chuckle when his voice quite literally causes you to jump in your seat. You turn to face him sheepishly, "Hi, Josh. I'm sorry I didn't realise-"

The words die on your tongue in an instant when you take in what he's wearing.

His shirt accentuates his shoulders in a way that is wholly unnecessary. Worse still, his arms are on full display for you to drink in. Muscles flexing and veins visible while he stands there with his arms crossed. And god, his pants. They all but force your eyes to focus on how they flatter his thighs, and you're suddenly hit with a barrage of memories. Memories of Josh flexing them underneath you while you hump them in an attempt to cum. An amused gleam in his eyes as he watched you because you both knew you'd never cum the way you wanted to.

Is it horrible to admit that even his boots are so attractive? In the very deep, private parts of your mind, you think he'd like the idea of watching you grind against them to get off. Maybe if you ever find the courage, you'll ask him.

"Are you okay?"

You're broken out of your thoughts by Joshua's concerned voice. Blinking, you focus back on him only to find his handsome face twinged with confusion and worry. The way his inky hair sticks to said handsome face isn't helping your conundrum, but you do feel guilty for worrying him when you're spiralling over him in one of his stage outfits.

"Yeah, I am. Sorry, I just got a little in my head there."

"In your head? About what?" Dread coils in your gut at the question. You're determined to look anywhere but, directly at him. Fiddling with your phone in your hands while your mind races to think of a half decent answer.

"Um- just school. You know, this semester's been pretty busy. Plus, I have a few assignments due in the next month, so I've been trying to figure out how to schedule my calendar around them. Then it'll be the holiday, but you know never too soon to start preparing -" You're rambling. You know you are, and so does Josh, but the words continue to tumble out of you.

"You're a terrible liar," he interrupts, and you can hear the smirk in his voice clear as day. To your absolute horror, he's moving closer to you until he's intimately in your personal space. Oh, this is worse. So, so much worse. Because his scent invades your senses too and, embarrassment warms your face when it dawns on you that you're wet.

His large, warm hand cups your jaw and gently nudges your face up until you meet his intense gaze. His thumb strokes your cheek gently when and, you so badly want it in your mouth instead, but your mouth feels as though it's been stapled shut.

Dread, anticipation and desire form a lethal concoction in your veins when Josh's face shifts from concern and confusion to understanding. The corners of his plump lips lifting up in way that muddles your mind further and causes more of your wetness to trickle onto your panties.

"Oh, I get it now," he rumbles with a laugh that's far too amused, "If you wanted me, you could've just said so." You suddenly find his face mere centimetres from your own with hold on your face keeping you from shying away. Even after being with him for all this time, you still find it difficult to meet his gaze head on occasionally. Maybe you're afraid he'll see just how truly far gone you are for him. Maybe his eyes will finally devour you whole and, you don't know if you'd ever be able to come back from that.

"Where'd you go? Come back to me," he coaxes gently, his face softening momentarily while his thumb drags along your bottom lip. Blinking up at him you finally find your voice again and the words rush out of you, "I'm here. I-I want it. Want you."

Kissing Josh is perhaps one of your favourite activities to partake in with him. His lips are so soft and, even as his tongue teases its way into his mouth, he takes his time. Determined to rile you up just with his mouth and his firm grasp on your face. Your hands reach up for him, feeling like you'll be driven to madness if you don't touch him somehow, somewhere, anywhere. Your hands find purchase on his massive biceps. Hisses pressed against your lips when your nails bite into his skin.

A whine leaves you before you can stop it when he pulls away from you, looking down at you through dark bangs and lidded eyes. "Can we go home?" You ask, your panties starting to cling to you uncomfortably just from this godforsaken outfit and some kissing. You're not sure how much longer can take not having him.

"What's got you so riled up?" He asks instead, genuine curiosity colouring his tone. You elect not to give him a direct response, "Can't I just think my boyfriend is hot?"

"Oh, you absolutely can and, while I'm flattered, we both know me being just hot doesn't get you nearly this worked up," he retorts, leaning down once more to lightly kiss along your neck. His hands shoving your cardigan from your shoulders until it pools around you. You bite back the whimpers that so desperately want to fall from you with every brush of Joshua's lips against your sensitive skin. Your thighs rubbing together in search of any semblance of relief.

"Come on, be a good girl and tell me," he mutters, one of his large hands dragging down your body until it rests a little too high on your upper thigh. "Or do you want me to get it out of you another way?"

"Your outfit," you blurt out immediately, you know Josh's mind is always coming up with frighteningly inventive ways to punish you and, you don't think you could handle that today. Not with how you're barely keeping it together as it is, "You- You look good. Really, really good."

That makes him take pause, "Really? That's it?" He doesn't sound judgemental or as though you just told him the most idiotic thing the world. Just... genuinely surprised.

"Yes," you whine, "Now can we go home please?"

You nearly choke on your spit when he resumes his assault on your poor throat, and his hand finds itself between your thighs, automatically spreading for him because of course they do. Something guttural and from the depths of his chest hit your ear when his fingers brush against your slick panties. Prompting your hips to chase the friction, tightening your hold on him as well.

"Fuck. Fuck, you weren't kidding," he breathes as though you've completely knocked the wind from him. However, he's gone from your body in instant, "Shua, where are you-"

Your question is answered when you see him lock the door only to stock back over to you, his erection testing the durability of these pants and somehow making them look more appealing. Saliva pooling in your mouth while your walls clamp down borderline painfully around nothing.

"My poor baby. I don't think you'll last until we get home," he says, his thumb dragging along your bottom lip. His eyes darken further when he eases it into your mouth, and you suck immediately. Just happy to have anything occupying your mouth.

"I'll just take care of you here. Up," he commands, stepping away from you to give you space to rise to your feet. You blink up at him but when you're only met with an eyebrow raise, you stand up immediately. Letting your cardigan, phone and bag rest on the chair as your boyfriend looms over you. The intent in his eyes more than enough to quicken your heartrate and stiffen your nipples under your casual dress.

"So you do know how to listen," is all the warning you receive before you're all but, shoved against his vanity. One of his hands fondling your breast over your dress while the other drags you by the hip until there's no space between the two of you. His erection burns against your stomach even through the layers of your clothing. Just as heavy with intent.

You moan into his mouth with every brush and squeeze of his hand over your breast, electricity shooting straight down your spine to your clit with every one of his touches but, it's not enough. You want to feel him.

Before you can comprehend what's happening, Joshua has always had a knack for being six steps ahead of you, you find yourself facing your reflection in his mirror. You already look like a mess. Eyes glazed and a little watery with your lips bruised from how thoroughly he's been kissing you. The straps of your dress barely cling to your shoulders, and your breasts jiggle with every heaving breath you take.

A gasp flies from your lips and you hold onto his vanity when Josh presses himself, more specifically his erection, against you once more. You think you may lose your mind if he doesn't just fuck you. You're sure you're more than wet enough to take him by now. You're not quite sure whether you want him to keep his clothes mostly on or, touch his soft skin.

"You're distracted again," he tuts against your shoulder before pressing featherlight kisses to all of the skin he can reach there. A stark contrast to the way his hands roughly tug down the straps of your dress, your breasts free and goosebumps rising when they're met with the cool air of his dressing room.

He meets your gaze in the mirror as he touches them once again. A choked whimper gracing his ears when he barely drags the tips of his fingers over your nipples, "Maybe I'm doing a bad job keeping your attention," he pouts but, that look is in his eyes. Your knees nearly buckle when he tugs on them more harshly this time, soothing them with gentle rubs that make you feel dizzy.

"Is this why you didn't wear a bra today?" The drop of a few octaves in his voice significantly worsen how empty you are in this very moment, "So I'd touch and play with your tits?"

"What a slut you are."

His words coupled with his stupid, stupid, skillfull hands force a drawn out mewl from your throat. Your foggy mind desperately trying to find any words to respond to him.

"Josh- Shua, no I- I didn't think I'd take long to pick y-you up. So, I didn't wear one," you whimper in response after a particularly harsh tug. He puts on a show of humming in thought as though he's not still pinching and toying with your nipples, tears building in your eyes with ever minute he's not inside of you.

"I don't know," he drawls, the air in your lungs stopping as one of his hands snakes its way down your dress until it reaches the apex of your thighs, "Something tells me you didn't wear one so I'd just have to bend you over and fuck you."

If everyone could only see their sweet Joshua now. Spilling filth against your skin while his hand assesses how wet you are and his hips shallowly grind against the swell of your ass for a bit of friction. They'd likely have an aneurism.

A moan far louder than you intended bounces off the walls of his dressing room when his fingers find your clit over your ruined panties. His eyes shutting briefly as if to collect himself before he continues drawing steady circles. You've never been more grateful for the table in front of you because you're sure you would've collapsed into a heap on the floor if you didn't have it to support you.

"Not too loud," he mutters into your skin with a self-satisfied glint in his eyes. His hand slipping into your panties to touch you a directly, his throaty groan combining with the moan that you couldn't quite bite back in time when as his fingers tease your wet folds. Your eyes screwing shut as they shallowly dip in and out of your neglected hole.

His hands still, and that prompts you to open your eyes, confused as to what made him stop. "None of that. I want you to see. I want you to watch," he says, his reflection holding your gaze once more. His other hand drifting to hold your jaw in place. Not too harshly but, with enough pressure that you know better than to move.

Whether as a reward or because he simply wants to, eventually sinks a thick finger into you. The stretch prompts a jumbled mess of gasps and whimpers from your chest. Your eyes barely remaining open with the relief of finally having something inside of you.

"There you go," he groans against your neck, his teeth ghosting over your skin and leaving goosebumps in their wake, "That's my baby."

The angle is a little awkward but, your hips chase the curls of his finger regardless. The need to shove down all of your noises of pleasure becoming increasingly challenge with every exploitation of your weaknesses Josh uses against you.

You don't receive much of a warning this time when he eases a second finger into you, this time the stretch is a little more than you can handle, "J-Josh," you choke out, your wetness dripping down his palm.

"My slutty girl you're doing so good," he coos, kissing the back of your neck while he grinds his erection against your ass, "Taking my fingers so well. Can't wait to feel you on my cock."

That causes a more visceral reaction from you. Your walls clamping down on his long fingers as one of your hands grabs his forearm, "Please. Pl-Please. Shua please. I-I want it please," you couldn't feel embarrassed if you tried. Joshua tended to have that effect on you.

He rests his head against your shoulder briefly, "Gimme a second," he says, the dip of his voice sending shudders down your spine. You cringe a little when he pulls his fingers out of you, your wetness coating them generously. You watch him unbutton and unzip his pants with baited breath, "Can you- can you keep your clothes on?"

Joshua meets your gaze with his eyebrows raised before that knowing look returns to his face. He laugh would sound beautiful if you his cock wasn't minutes from being inside of you and you weren't dripping onto his dressing room floor, "Sure."

Your gratitude comes out as a strangled whimper when the fat head of his cock prods at your slick entrance, "I don't know if I should be offended that you're this wet because of some clothes and fingering," he mutters. You couldn't respond to him even if you tried. Your mind just occupied with the idea of finally being filled by him.

"Cock drunk already huh?" He muses, meeting your gaze briefly before glancing down to watch himself split you open. His quiet moans being drowned out by your much, much more vocal ones. You're not sure you'll ever quite grow accustomed to his first thrust. Especially given the rush and your impatience, his slow push into you stings a little bit more more than usual but, the pain only fuels your arousal.

"Fuck," he groans and you're inclined to agree with his sentiment, "Always so wet and tight for me." If you could find the words you'd tell him the reason you're so tight is because of how big he is but, you're too preoccupied with trying to remain standing.

He's nestled so deeply inside of you when he finally bottoms out. His hips flush against yours and his tip kissing your cervix, quieter whimpers leave you with every throb and pulse of him inside of you. "Open," he grits into your ear, his fingers still slick with your wetness resting on your bottom lip. You open your mouth without much of a second thought, the slightly salty taste of your wetness flooding your taste buds and you realise very quickly why Joshua shoved his fingers into your mouth.

He pulls back only to thrust back into you without much mercy, your moans fortunately being muffled by his fingers. His heavy, lidded gaze takes in the way your drool around him, some of it dribbling past your lips while he continues to fuck into harshly and quickly. He's not sure how much time he has left before someone comes knocking so, he'd rather make this quick. He can take his time with you when you're at home.

You gag around his fingers slightly when he angles his thrusts marginally, smirking when he hits that spot inside of you that causes you grip him like a vice and nearly go limp in his arms. Joshua supports you through it all. Hitting that spot over and over again until overwhelmed tears trickle down your face and you're sure you could cum from this alone and, his muffled groans and grunts with every unforgiving intrusion.

"You know what your tears do to me, baby," he moans hoarsely, his thrusts stuttering slightly when he drinks in the combination of tears and spit smeared on your gorgeous face. All you can do is nod hurriedly. Telling him without telling him that you want it. You want him to cum.

"My precious cumslut of a girlfriend," he laughs breathlessly and without much humour, his pace picking up considerably and the sounds of your wetness and his heavy balls slapping against you ringing out obscenely throughout the room. "Always so greedy for my cum," he moans against your shoulder, his other hand hurriedly reaching between your thighs to rub frantic circles against your neglected clit.

Now you really are happy he had the foresight to make you gag on his fingers. You're not sure you could've silenced yourself even if you tried your utmost. The symphony of your choked noises of pleasure and Joshua's muffled ones join the increasing noises echoing throughout the room. Your walls tighten around him viciously, your toes tingling and even more tears springing forth from your eyes.

Josh cums first. A throaty groan of your name and a few curse words your only warning before you feel him pulse inside of you. Ropes and ropes of his warm cum flooding your awaiting pussy, his hips jerking into you sporadically and his hold on you almost bruising. His attempts to keep rubbing your clit proved fruitful because it doesn't take you long to tumble over the proverbial edge along with him. It takes a significant amount of conscious effort not to bite down on his fingers as your orgasm rocks your system. Josh moaning again as your walls spasm and clamp around his softening cock.

Once you'd ridden out the more intense parts of your climax, Josh removes his fingers from your mouth. Your shared, laboured breathing the only sounds that could be heard.

"If I knew you'd react like this to my outfit, I would have worn it sooner," he says with a chuckle that sounds far too full of himself. Not that he doesn't have a right to be but still. "You just look really good okay, god," you mutter once your voice finds you again. Cringing both from the scratchy quality of your voice and, Joshua slowly pulling out of you. Quickly putting your panties back in place. A surprised gasp flying from your lips when he pushes the fabric into you with two of his long fingers.

"Wouldn't want you to waste it," he says, his eyes heavy with want once again when they they find yours, "After all you worked so hard being my little cumslut. Who knows, maybe if you manage to not leak a drop I'll fill you up again."

You resent the way your body shudders but, you nod all the same, "I won't spill a drop, Shua."

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