#he would do anything for those he cares for

[frenchkisstheabyss]

♡ Stray Kids & Their Favorite Part of Their Chubby Gf's Body ♡

♡ A/N: I wrote this for all of my chubby/plus size/fluffy Stays out there who might be in need of some spicy body worship and a little reminder that you're a fucking baddie worthy of being desired. K, love you, byeee.

♡ Pairing: ot8!stray kids x chubby!fem!reader

♡ Genre: fluff/smut

♡ Word Count: 2.2k-ish total

♡ Warnings: reader's plus size sooo obvi descriptions of chubby bodies, body worship, fingering, penetrative sex, a lil manhandling, tit sucking, oral sex (m&f receiving), spanking, and that's all there is, loves.

♡ Bang Chan ♡

Something Chan gets teased about a lot is how he always manages to find an excuse to have you in his arms. If it’s an arm casually thrown around your waist while you’re waiting in line at the coffee shop or a full on bear hug when you’re sitting on his lap at the studio, he craves the comfort of having your body close to his. He does it even more when he’s stressed or has had a particularly long day. Chan will bring you in close, squeezing you tight, giving special attention to the squishing your love handles. You always giggle, telling him not to play with your rolls. You swear you’ll get rid of them one day and Chan gets all grumpy every single time. They’re a part of you. He can’t imagine you without them. Actually, he doesn’t want to. It’s so relaxing to squeeze them when he’s holding you close, letting the annoyances of the day melt away in your presence. Sometimes that’s not enough though and he needs some extra stress relief which you’re always more than pleased to offer him. He finds it super sexy when you choose to take the lead, climbing on top and riding him at a slow sensual pace while his hands are free to roam wherever they wish. Still, they always find their way back to your love handles, gripping them to bounce you in his lap at whatever speed he desires. And when you're dangerously close to your high, making the prettiest noises as you're ready to gush all over his length, he can hold onto them to keep you right where he wants you, totally at his mercy, unable to do anything else besides moan and whine in his grip.

♡ Changbin ♡

Changbin’s the strongest man you know—one glance at those heavenly muscles makes it impossible to question that fact—but even the strongest men have weaknesses and one of his happens to be your thighs. If you ever want to see this man blush all you need to do is show up to one of your dates in a skirt just short enough that he can get a peek at your soft thighs kissing. He’ll barely pay attention to his meal, preoccupied instead with how your thighs rub together when you walk over to the table or how they seem even thicker when you take your seat, the fabric of your skirt riding up as you settle in. Being the gentleman that he is, he wouldn’t dare lay a finger on you when you’re out in public but once you’re in the car? That’s a different story entirely. It’s one hand on the steering wheel and the other snug between your thighs all the way home. He’ll take his time massaging the plump flesh, occasionally letting his fingers drift up to tease you through your panties. By the time you get home you’ll be soaking wet, desperate for the teasing to come to an end, but Changbin won’t be in a rush. Changbin will press you up against anything—the wall, the couch, the kitchen counter—taking as long as he wants to kiss and lick your thighs until even he can’t take it anymore and he’s tucking your panties aside to taste your juices. There’s truly nothing like the way your thighs shake when his tongue’s inside of you.

♡ Seungmin ♡

Before meeting you stretch marks weren’t something that Seungmin cared about one way or another. He knew that people got them from gaining weight or losing it. It was as simple as that. Of course he knew that there were people who felt insecure about them but it seemed so silly to him that anyone would feel bad about something so insignificant. Meeting you didn’t change that. He still sees no reason to be insecure about them. What did change was his view of them as insignificant. After seeing you naked for the first time he fell in love with them, finding beauty in every single stretch mark on your body. If you’re together and your stretch marks happen to peek out of your clothes he wouldn’t dare tell you to put them away. Instead he’ll take that as an excuse to trace them with his fingertips, following them along the curves of your body. He’s so obsessed that he notices new ones before you do. Not that he’d ever admit that. Seungmin likes to pretend that his fascination isn’t as intense as it is when both of you know the truth. He can play up the indifferent act all he wants but nothing can hide how drawn he is to them. You can literally be riding his face, his eyes too blurred and glossy from being pussy drunk to even see, and his fingers will chart their course right to your stretch marks. It always makes you wetter to be silently praised like that and that’s how Seungmin likes it. You’re so much more delicious when you’re high off of praise.

♡ Hyunjin ♡

To say that Hyunjin’s obsessed with your silhouette would be the understatement of the century. The contours of your body are pure art to him. He could spend all day admiring them. The few times you’ve actually caught him staring are nothing compared to how much he’s actually done it. You don’t even have to be doing anything remotely sexual for this man to get hypnotized. The simple act of you existing in your body is enough to test his impulse control and he fails every single time. It doesn’t matter if it’s the middle of the night, he can’t resist the temptation to feel the warmth of your body beneath his touch. Hyunjin likes to cuddle up behind you, gently pushing your shirt up to let his hand rest against your side for a little bit before his palms are riding the soft hills of your figure. He starts out slow, careful not to wake you, but then you let out those cute, hushed moans in your sleep and it makes him feral. By the time he’s done devouring you with his touch you’re half awake, mindlessly pressing yourself back against his hard cock as he sweetly kisses your neck, his fingers slipping into your panties to feel how wet you’ve gotten without even knowing it. The shape of you is such a beautiful sight to see, especially with all the ways you twist when you’re coming undone around his fingers. And that's never the end of things. How could it be when you always get him so hard and there's so many positions left to put you in?

♡ I.N ♡

If you check Jeongin’s phone he probably has as many pictures of you as he does of himself which is saying a lot for a guy whose job basically requires him to take a million selfies a day. Jeongin treasures the photos he has of the two of you together but his favorites are the ones that are just you so that he can dedicate all of his attention to drooling over how pretty you are. Your face has always been the center of everything for him and he can’t get enough of it. Your eyes, your nose, your lips. Don’t even get him started on your cute little chin and your chubby cheeks. If it’s cold out he races to warm your cheeks with his palms. When he kisses you he never misses the opportunity to cup your face, softly stroking your cheek as his lips move against yours. It isn’t a rare occurrence for him to come out of nowhere, pinching your cheeks and telling you what a cutie you are. It isn’t always about you being cute though. Your face is as seductive as it is adorable and he’d give anything to have your sexier expressions immortalized on his phone. Since that’s just not safe to do—he’d hate to accidentally send that to the group chat—he just has to cherish those moments when he can witness it in real time. It should be illegal to look so good with your lips wrapped around his cock, your cheeks even fluffier all filled up with his cum. Don’t even get him started on what it’s like to see you hit your high. Your face flush with heat, your eyes sparkling with tears, your walls spasming wildly around his cock, his fingers, his tongue, or even your favorite toy. You look like an angel. A sexy little fucked out angel but an angel all the same.

♡ Han ♡

If your body had a fandom, Han's bias would be your boobs. It’s been clear since day one that he’s head over heels for them. You have gorgeous eyes, the prettiest he’s ever seen, but he can’t help how his gaze tends to drift below your neckline to those soft, bouncy breasts resting on your chest. Sometimes he’ll hug you from behind, wrapping his arms around you so that your boobs are propped up by his forearms. Other times he’ll take the not so subtle approach of scooping them into his hands, gently kneading them to feel their weight in his palms. When it’s time to go shopping for bras he’ll be right there, eager to help you pick one out and more than willing to pay for whichever one you want. His favorites are the pretty laced ones that bring your tits together to make for the most succulent cleavage he’s ever seen in his life. As much as he loves a good bra, he’ll take you without one any day of the week. Late nights trapped in studio sessions are always made easier when he knows he’ll stumble through the door of your shared apartment to find you already changed into a pair of his sweatpants and a thin crop top that lets your nipples show through. No matter how exhausted he is, the sight of you innocently skipping around the house without a bra gives him more than enough energy to get you out of that crop top and spend all night French kissing your sensitive nipples. He gets so needy for you, on the verge of whining as his tongue swirls around your bud, his cock straining against his pants. He could cum from this alone without ever having to be inside of you but it’s so much better when he is.

♡ Felix ♡

If you ever want to see Felix get all pouty, say literally anything negative about your belly. He’s super protective of you in general, constantly showering you in reassuring words about your body, but your belly’s the cutest thing in the world to him and there’s no slander allowed. If you’re rocking a dress and he finds out that you’re wearing shapewear or tights to smooth yourself out he’ll for sure find a way around them. Nothing stops your man from squishing his girl’s belly, not even you. It gets to the point that you don’t even bother anymore. You just let your belly take whatever shape it wishes and Felix eats it up every single time. He’s so down bad for it that he holds onto it when he’s going to sleep. Some mornings you even wake up to him dozing away with his head resting on your belly and his arms around your waist. Any attempts to pull him off are useless. He’ll only hold you tighter, grumbling in protest as he nuzzles your shirt up to kiss your bare skin. At this point you’ve lost track of how many times you’ve been late to work because Felix got carried away praising you with his lips and the situation escalated to sleepy morning sex that left you pinned beneath him, his name the first thing to leave your lips at the crack of dawn. There's so much about you to enjoy—the slickness of your walls, how hot you sound moaning in his ear—but he always has to steal a few glances of how beautifully your belly jiggles when he bottoms out.

♡ Lee Know ♡

Meeting Minho through mutual friends meant that you’d already heard a lot about him before you started dating. This included the rumors that Minho couldn’t get enough of a nice ass once he saw one. Naturally you laughed off that information, assuming that his friends must’ve been exaggerating for the sake of a joke. As it turns out, they weren’t exaggerating at all. In fact, everything they said would happen has happened. Minho worships every part of you but your ass gets special treatment for sure. If you’re around other people or not, his intrusive thoughts are always winning. It’s like a compulsion. He has to at least pat it or give it a light slap to feel it jiggle. In his defense, you do have an ass beyond worth worshipping. It’s gorgeous in sweatpants, in shorts, in panties, or in nothing at all. That last one’s his preferred option though and he won’t even try to deny it. No matter how delicious your plush ass looks in some lace panties, it’ll never beat the perfection of seeing you without them. And when you let him bend you over to spank you as hard as he wants? This man doesn’t know what to do with himself. He can only keep it together for so long before he’s easing his cock into you to feel how every slap has you trembling, the vibrations traveling through your body while you're just dripping down his length. You're usually a bit sore after but it's totally worth it for something that feels so good. Plus Minho always kisses it better.

[harunayuuka2060]

MC: *listens to the bride's and groom's families as they discuss whether to proceed with the wedding after the groom hits the bride*

Groom's mother: He didn’t mean to do it! Why are you making such a big deal out of it?!

Groom's father: That's right! It was an accident! And they were arguing!

Bride's father: Do you hit your wife when you're arguing with each other?!

Groom's father: You-

MC: *lets out an irritated sigh*

Them: ...

MC: *looks at the bride* My dear child, as the one who has been wronged, do you wish to continue with this wedding?

The groom: Yes, Father! We will-

MC: I'm not asking you!

The groom: ...

The groom: *turns to his bride, attempting to coax her into continuing the wedding*

The groom: Love… I promise that will never happen again. A-and we've been together for five years—you're not going to throw all that away over one misunderstanding, right?

The bride: *looks at him, clearly disappointed*

The bride: I think you forgot… I was raised in this church, where I learned to be confident in myself and not let anyone trample on me or my principles. So, wasting five years of our relationship means nothing to me.

MC: Well, the bride has decided.

The groom: You will regret this-

MC: I would be careful with your words, child. If anything happens to this woman, I will have every nun in this church on your trail. And believe me, the women of this church are like those in the Bible—confident and merciless when angered.

The groom: ...

His family: ...

Raphael: *impressed*

Michael: *chuckles* That's right.

Simeon: Michael, do you think we can visit him?

Michael: ...

Simeon: Michael?

Michael: ...

Michael: No, we can't.

Raphael: Why not?

Michael: The prince of Devildom will take an interest in him.

[rafelandia]

Two Babies (dad!Rafe Cameron x fem!reader)

Word Count: 5.4k

Warnings: angst, mentions of smut, pregnancy

Summary: Y/N is pregnant again before she’s ready.

Author's Note: Hello! Please enjoy my first Rafe one shot. I would love to expand on this couple so if you have any requests or any blurbs you'd like me to explore, please send me a message! As always, likes and reblogs are much appreciated - it helps more than you know. Happy reading :)

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t my favorite tiny human,” the pediatrician chimed as she kicked the door to the small examination room shut with her sneaker.

“You must say that to all of the parents that you see,” Y/N blushed, unable to hide the smile that tugged on the corners of her lips.

“I do, but this is one of the rare times when I actually mean it. Those blonde curls! Are you freakin' kidding me?”

She padded over to the miniature exam table to get a better look at the infant that was lying contently on her back and chewing on her pudgy albeit still tiny fingers. 

“Let’s take a look at how you’re doing, sweet pea.”

The doctor, Melanie, lifted the stethoscope that was looped around her neck and placed it into her ears. Listening to the baby’s heartbeat to check for any abnormalities, she couldn’t help but give a sympathetic frown when the tiny girl under her tensed up from the cool touch of the metal.

“Nurse’s notes say she’s put on quite a bit. She’s finally caught up to her age group in weight. I’m assuming breastfeeding is going better for you both now?”

Melanie lovingly squeezed the extra chub around the baby girl's thighs.

“Yeah. We don’t really use bottles anymore. Finally got her to latch on and now it seems like all she wants to do it eat,” Y/N chuckled.

“Good! That’s good. There’s nothing wrong with formula like we talked about, so don't overexert yourself if becomes too demanding. Breastfeeding is cheaper though," Melanie chucked, though in her head she was kicking herself. As if this family is in any need to save money. "Is she hitting the milestones? Rolling over? Propping her head up? Babbling a bit?” she continued.

“Babbling, definitely. She keeps us up sometimes because we can hear her talking to herself through the monitor at night,” Y/N poked her tongue out at her daughter in an attempt to get her to smile.

“Having a bit of trouble propping herself up though. She can only do it for a little bit and then she’ll give up. She’s got Rafe's big head, so I’m sure it’s a bit of a struggle.”

Melanie laughed loudly at the mention of her patient’s father, admiring Y/N's wittiness even in the absence of her husband. Given the reputation of the Cameron family, others might think the couple were all work and no play, but Melanie had the privilege of getting to know them behind closed doors. While they took doctor's visits seriously, always paying close attention to what the doctors and nurses had to say regarding the health of their firstborn, her experience with the Cameron's changed her outlook completely. Y/N and Rafe were warm, welcoming, and quite funny sometimes - always making jests at each other or sharing little tid-bits of what their life is like at home. She wished everyone could see them this way. Melanie really wasn't lying when she doted on the little girl, they were the best.

“She’ll get to it eventually. All babies are different. She seems to be coming along quite nicely, though. Nothing abnormal or anything to fuss about. A perfectly healthy six-month-old in my book.”

Y/N sighed in relief, though she knew there was nothing to worry over to begin with.

“How’s mum doing? You taking care of yourself, too? You’re just as important as baby.”

“When I can. Rafe's really good with her. He’ll take over when he sees me struggling, but it seems like she only wants me these days. Think I might be coming down with something, though. I’ve been feeling awful for a few weeks. Like I got hit by a train. I keep reminding myself to go get checked out, but I always get distracted taking care of her,” Y/N gestured to her daughter that was now drooling onto the parchment liner and staring up at the ceiling as if there was something ornately interesting about the popcorn texture that had been stippled onto it.

“When you say, ‘hit by a train,’ what do you mean? I can examine you here if you’d like. As long as it’s nothing serious, I can send you something off to the pharmacy.”

Melanie re-fastened the snaps on the infant’s onesie, making sure not to pinch her chunky legs and placed her back into her mother’s lap.

“Ummm,” Y/N began, “Just extra drained, I guess? Kinda nauseous. I’ve been getting migraines a lot and even when I do get a good night’s rest, I still feel like I could go back to bed for the rest of the day. Maybe I’m just exhausted, I don’t really know. But it just feels a bit different than being worn out like I have been before.”

She could see the wheels in Melanie's head turning, noting each of her symptoms and trying to align them in a path that would lead her to the root of the problem.

“Can I ask you something that might be a bit personal?”

Y/N nodded, rubbing her fingers absentmindedly along the bridge of her daughter’s socked foot.

“Have you and Rafe been intimate since she was born?”

She was taken aback by the question, not understanding where Melanie was going with this or why it was relevant.

“Umm,” Y/N stuttered, feeling a static-y surge of embarrassment travel up her neck and onto the sides of her face, “Yeah. We have.”

A whole fucking lot ever since I’ve been cleared for it, Y/N thought, but kept to herself.

“And can you tell me when your last menstrual cycle ended?”

Then it clicked. She genuinely couldn’t recall her most recent period and even the thought of what Melanie was alluding to made her stomach twist into thousands of tiny knots.

“I- I don’t know. I’ve been so busy with her I don’t even really think about what’s going on with me half of the time.”

Y/N tried to make excuses, anything to avoid the obvious, but judging from the quizzical look on her daughter’s pediatrician’s face, she knew exactly where this was going.

“There’s no way,” she whispered, “I can’t be.”

Melanie's face dropped, now tender and apologetic when she realized that this was news Y/N was not ecstatic to hear.

“I know I’m a pediatrician, so that’s obviously the first thing my mind goes to, but can we at least get you to take a blood test? That way we’ll know for sure?”

//

Rafe came home to a quiet house. It wasn’t unusual, but seeing as it was well after six o’clock in the evening and his wife wasn’t in the kitchen making the pasta dish she'd been dying for all week was. Their grocery store had been out of her favorite canned tomatoes for over a week and she’d nearly tackled Rafe to the ground out of excitement when he’d come home from the grocery store with them the night before. Had he not seen her car in the driveway, he probably wouldn’t have even suspected her to be home.

He checked the living room first, and it was desolate apart from the baby pink, quilted playmat on the floor that was littered with a few of his daughter’s favorite rattles and teethers. Y/N's coat and purse were abandoned haphazardly on the couch, almost as if she tossed it aside in a hurry to get somewhere.

“Baby?” Rafe called out.

Nothing.

His head peaked into the nursery, stealthily and quietly in preparation to walk in on his daughter taking her scheduled nap before her actual bedtime. He’d gotten good at hushing his footfalls to almost complete silence as to not wake her, having made that mistake more than a handful of times. 

And he was right. There she was, sprawled out in her crib with her arms outstretched over her head like a tiny starfish. Her chubby cheeks were smushed against her bicep, drawing her lips open the tiniest bit so that Rafe could see the tops of her fleshy, pink gums and the barely-there nub of her first tooth peeking through. More than anything, he wanted to wake her up - lift her from the plush mattress and cuddle her close, shower her with kisses and tickle her with his scruff to hear those baby squeals he adored so much, but he needed to find Y/N first.

She had to be in their bedroom, he thought to himself. Maybe she was taking advantage of their baby girl napping to also get some rest. She had been rather exhausted lately. Maybe she’d had a rough day and was relaxing in the clawfoot, porcelain bathtub that had been the selling point of the home they now lived in. The houses on Figure Eight were lavish, but not all of the bathtubs were - at least that's what Y/N told Rafe. Who was he to question his bride?

Turns out he was right again. Like he had done with the nursery, he held the metal doorknob tightly in his grip to keep the hinges from creeking and pressed it open gently. The room was completely dark, but he could make out the lump underneath the duvet on their king-sized bed as his wife. 

Good. She was sleeping. 

He padded across the hardwood floor, still being as quiet as he could until he crossed the threshold of the bathroom. There, he rid himself of the uncomfortable clothes he’d been wearing all day. Curse these professional business meetings that forced him to dress nicely. 

All throughout the meetings, he wanted nothing more than to be home with his wife and baby, cuddling the afternoon away and watching shitty reality television while his daughter cooed and grunted and gurgled in her baby voice that he loved so much and could listen to all day. He wasn't always this way - he used to love this shit, but something inside him changed indefinitely when his daughter was born. Rafe was a softy now and he wasn't afraid to admit it. Maybe it was the fact that he’d been having to partake in these boring work meetings a lot more lately, which caused him to miss even the smallest aspects of his everyday life like changing diapers or checking the baby monitor eight hundred times throughout the day to make sure his daughter was still breathing. Perhaps he’d just been getting sentimental because she was growing so much these days, but it was an unpleasant feeling nonetheless.

His thoughts were interrupted when he deposited his heavy watch into the dish he kept on the counter and he heard a quiet yet still prominent sniffle among the clattering of metal against the glass dish.

“Baby? You awake?” Rafe peaked his head out from beyond the bathroom door. 

He saw her body shift under the covers, but she gave no response. So he called out again.

“You sick or something? Can hear you sniffling."

Nothing.

Pivoting back around to the inside of the bathroom, he quickly shut off the light and carried himself over to her side of the bed where he could see her properly. Her face was tucked into her chin and all that was visible to him was the top of her head.

“Hey,” Rafe cooed, petting what he could reach of her hair and speaking even gentler than he had been, “What’s wrong?”

And that’s when he heard it - an almost inaudible choking sound of Y/N trying to catch her breath that immediately let him know she wasn’t sick. She had been crying.

“Whoa, baby,” he was already pulling the covers back with force, honestly not caring whether or not she minded the intrusion.

“Tell me what’s going on.”

She was emotionless when he saw what little he could her face, her puffy, bloodshot eyes and swollen lips illuminated by the hallway light being the only indicator that she was upset. She didn’t even react to Rafe tugging her head out from where it had been buried in the covers, simply rolling onto her back to stare idly at the ceiling.

“Y/N,” he called for his wife again, this time much more stern, “You’ve got to talk to me.”

She took several deep breaths through her nose, allowing her lungs to fill to their maximum capacity before exhaling with a sigh. Rafe could have sworn she was sucking all of the oxygen out of the room along with his patience each time she did so. 

After what felt like ages, she parted her lips to speak.

“I went to the doctor today.” 

“Yeah? For the six-month check up, right?” Rafe asked, not seeing why that was important but his mind quickly went to the worst scenario possible despite having just seen his daughter sleeping peacefully in her crib. He cut his eyes towards the hallway in the direction of her nursery before looking back to Y/N.

“Is she alright?” his voice now demanding urgency in the delivery of her response.

“She’s fine,” she quickly dismissed him, internally kicking herself for making Rafe worry.

“I was telling Melanie about how sick I’ve been lately and she -,” Y/N gulped and rubbed her knuckles against her tired eyes, bracing herself for whatever events unfolded after she said what she was about to say.

“She, umm. She made me take a pregnancy test.”

Now it was Rafe turn to be speechless. He stared at her with furrowed brows and his mouth slightly agape. His palms suddenly felt clammy against the white sheets that they rested on and his stomach felt like it had turned in on itself from how badly it was churning. Of all of the things he had expected to be wrong with her, this was certainly the last on the list. 

“And?” he asked after what felt like an eternity of staring at her and saying absolutely nothing, though he already knew the answer.

“Ten weeks.”

Silent tears now spilled over her eyes and down past her temples. She couldn’t even be bothered to wipe them, instead letting them dampen a small patch of hair on either side of her head. Pregnancies weren’t supposed to be sad, but somehow, she had barely been able to stop crying since she left the pediatrician’s office.

“How,” Rafe whispered, moreso to himself than to her.

“I think you know how babies are made, Rafe” Y/N quipped.

“That's not what I meant,” Rafe fired back just as quickly, “It’s just...She’s still so little.”

He thought of his daughter asleep in the next room. She was the most perfect thing he’s ever seen and on the day that she was born, he knew he wanted nothing more than to fill his and Y/N’s house with as many blonde, chubby babies as he could fit beds in each room. He just hadn’t expected that his only child’s first birthday present would be the gift of being a big sister. 

It was all too sudden.

“I just don’t know how I didn’t see it sooner. I mean,” Y/N raised her arms above her head before huffing and letting them fall to her sides, “I guess I was just so caught up with the baby that I hadn’t even had a second to think about what’s going on with me. It’s like I don’t even matter anymore and I-”

“Hey, hey now. Don't do that,” Rafe shushed her and curled up next to her frame as she began to sob.

He tucked her head into his neck, hugging her chest tightly as if he was trying to hold the pieces of her together before she shattered. His mind was running a mile per minute. It killed him to see her like this, killed him to be in this situation. The last time they had found out this news, there were happy tears - tears of shock and excitement about taking the next step in building a family. Never had he imagined that the next time they were presented with the very same news, that there would be tears of sadness.

Her voice was muffled against his now wrinkled button-down, but he could still make out what she was saying beneath her blubbers.

“I can’t do this.”

“What do you mean, honey? Of course you can. I can take more time off work like last time and let the boys handle everything for a bit. I know it's not ideal, but we’ll be alright,” he ran his hand up and down her arm in an attempt to soothe her.

“That’s the problem, Rafe.”

He lifted his chin from here it was resting on the top of her head to look down at her.

“What?”

“It's not ideal. You've only just now gotten back to work full time. You said everything almost fell apart while you were gone. It would fuck everything up. Plus, she's only six months old, Rafe. I can't go through that again so soon."

Rafe paused to break away from her and sit up straight against the headboard, “Are you serious? Of course I can take more time off work. You are more important than anything that could possibly be going on at the office.” He was a bit stunned by her words. She almost sounded annoyed, which didn't sit quite right with Rafe.

“But do you see what’s happening? Everything is fucked.”

His voice wasn’t so calm anymore.

“No, Y/N. I honestly don’t. I mean I know this is all happening much earlier than we expected, but what else is there to do? Will you please tell me what you're getting at, because I’m starting to get upset.” 

Rafe's lips were pressed in a thin, straight line and his nostrils flared with every breath. Why was she being like this? 

“I don’t know what I’m fucking getting at. I’m just overwhelmed."

“And you think I’m not? I'm trying my best to keep it together for your sake if you haven’t noticed,” it almost condescending the way the words rolled off his tongue.

“Oh, excuse me,” Y/N laughed sarcastically.

“Didn’t realize you were the one that's pregnant. Didn’t realize you’re the one that has to grow all big and gross and swollen and be in pain every fucking day to the point where walking to the bathroom feels like a fucking marathon. Didn’t realize you’re the one that has to feel like you're burning alive from the inside out for hours and then just have to lay there while a doctor you’ve never seen before stitches you up because it literally tore your insides apart. Didn’t realize you-”

“For fuck’s sake, I get it!” Rafe was yelling now. They hadn't argued like this since they were much younger, and he absolutely hated it.

“It’s not the same and I’m sorry for suggesting that it was. I'm not sure what you want me to say though. I’m sorry? Is that it? Sorry for getting you pregnant? Sorry for having a job that helps us get anything we want for ourselves and our family? Sorry that I do everything I possibly can to keep you and the baby and everyone else on the fucking planet happy?”

“You’re being an asshole, Rafe,” she was just as angry as he was, scowl evident on her face even in their dimly lit bedroom.

“And you’re not making any fucking sense! Are you telling me you don’t want to keep it? Because I never fucking said that you have to.”

The thought had crossed her mind on the drive home from the doctor’s office, but the feeling left as quickly as it approached. She’d taken one look at her daughter in her car seat through the rear view mirror happily sucking on her teether and knew without a doubt that she couldn’t.

She felt a tidal wave of fresh, salty tears peaking and about to crash over her.

“I don’t want - fuck,” she put her head in her hands. 

“I just-,” and then she broke.

Sobs wracked her body, making her shoulders shake up and down. She wasn’t even sure how she had any more left to get out, but it just kept coming. Over and over and over again until it felt like she was being suffocated and that no one was going to save her. She felt Rafe's hands move to rest on her shoulder blades and heard gentle, cooing-like sounds coming out of his mouth, but she couldn’t make out what he had said over the sounds of her own wailing.

“Baby, it’s okay. Just breathe. It’s alri-”

His attempt at subduing her was cut short by shrill cries coming from the digital monitor that sat on their nightstand. Rafe peeked over his shoulder at the screen, seeing that their daughter had woken from her nap and was now demanding the attention of her parents. He couldn’t help but wince as he watched her socked feet flail around in the crib; it was without a doubt that the screaming match they’d just had that stirred her from her sleep, and that hurt him just as much as it did to see his wife crying right in front of him.

Y/N heard it too, somehow. Perhaps it was because she’d been trained to react to every minute sound that she made and could recognize her cries from a mile away in the paralyzing fear that something was wrong with her or maybe it was because she looking for any and every excuse to get Rafe's hands off of her so she could get away from him and escape the argument they’d just had without making the situation any worse than it already was. Regardless, she turned her own neck to peer at the monitor and sighed heavily.

“I’ll go, Y/N. Just stay here.”

“No. I got it. It’s after seven. She’s probably hungry.”

She shrugged Rafe's hands away from her shoulders like his touch physically pained her and climbed over his body and off the bed without another word, not even giving Rafe the chance to take her hand and help her over the edge of the mattress. He knew she wasn’t going anywhere but down the hall and into the nursery, but he couldn’t help but feel like she was walking away from everything.

//

Y/N stared her daughter while she nursed. She started from the top of her head that was riddled with sandy blonde curls and worked her way down to the tips of her toes that would occasionally flex themselves out of habit. Her hair? Undoubtedly Rafe's. Her eyes? A perfect, entrancing shade of blue akin to Rafe's. Her lips? The same almost inhuman shade of fleshy pink, just like Rafe's. Surprisingly, the only physical trait she’d inherited from her mother was her nose, which was funny considering that Y/N had always hated hers.

She was content, suckling away at Y/N’s breast - her cries of hunger long forgotten. The infant hadn’t even flinched when a few more of Y/N’s silent, cold tears spilled over and left small wet spots where her onesie rested over her belly. She had no idea that her parents were upset with each other and she had no idea that in a little more than six months time, she’d be a big sister and there would be two babies fighting for their attention. Y/N was also clueless, but only as to how she was going to take care of a newborn and a one-year-old simultaneously. She’d always thought she’d have more time than this - more time to spend with just her daughter and Rafe before they decided to have another, but just like her eyes, things always had a funny way of never working out in her favor.

Three soft knocks on the wall withdrew her from her thoughts and she was greeted by her husband idling in the doorway like he needed permission before entering a room in his own house. It was off seeing Rafe Cameron this way - being the one with his tail tucked beneath his legs. It was usually the opposite. He had changed out of his work clothes and was now clad in his favorite pair of sweats that were permanently stained with spit-up. Y/N had tried everything under the sun to get the spots out, but he’d been persistent on not throwing them out.

“Can I come in?”

His voice was barely above a whisper and much calmer than when he’d been yelling at her about twenty minutes ago. He still hesitated crossing the threshold even after Y/N had given him a skeptical nod, but allowed his bare feet to pad over the plush carpet as he joined her on the loveseat in the far corner of the nursery.

He watched their daughter just as Y/N had, taking in her tranquil state as her fingers brushed reflexively against the underside of Y/N’s breast. He’d never been able to pry his eyes away every time he watched her nurse. There were no ulterior motives behind it whatsoever. It amazed him each and every time, how Y/N was able to provide their child with everything that they needed to grow with only her body. At first, Y/N hated that Rafe loved sitting in on her feedings, feeling exposed and unattractive despite Rafe's continuous affirmations that it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever had the privilege of witnessing, but over time she’d grown fond of it.

“I'm sorry for yelling at you,” Rafe started.

“It was uncalled for,” she quipped.

Y/N sniffled, rubbing her swollen eyes with the back of her free hand that wasn’t supporting her daughter’s back as she held her.

“It’s okay. It was a lot to take in. I’m sorry for yelling at you too.”

She couldn’t quite look him in the eye just yet, but she was slowy but surely getting there.

“It's not okay, actually. You’re right. I’m not the one having the baby. It’s you that’s got to do all the hard stuff and I know how scary it was last time. I should've been more considerate before jumping the gun.”

He shifted towards her on the cushions, afraid to touch her just yet but still yearning to be closer to her.

The best Y/N could muster was a quiet, “Thank you,” before she busied herself by attempting to run her fingers through her baby’s hair and untangle the mess she’d created while she was sleeping.

“Can I hold you? Please?” his voice was quiet and pleading.

Now was when she turned to face him and she was met with eyes that were just as red-rimmed as hers. She had heard the bathroom sink running for an abnormally long amount of time and a hard, frustrated pounding against the wall shortly after she’d gone off in the nursery to feed the baby, which meant he must have been trying to muffle the sounds of his own crying when she left their bedroom.

Y/N didn’t say anything, only shifting her weight onto one side so Rafe could easily lift her onto his lap in one swift movement without disturbing their daughter. He tucked her shoulder into his neck and softly kissed her skin and his hands moved to mimic hers so they were both holding the baby that was nodding off again in their arms. She found herself relaxing into his loose grip, her head tilting to the side to rest against his. 

“I love you so much. You know that? I’d drop everything for you if I had to. I don't care about any of it anymore.”

“No, you wouldn’t,” she refuted, but there was no malice in her tone.

“I wouldn’t let you. You try to play it cool and I know that things are different now, but I also know that deep down you really like what you do.” The corner of Rafe's lips turned upwards, suppressing a chuckle at the fact that she really does know him that well.

“Well, just know that I would if you wanted me to. I’ve thought about it a thousand times. I want to be here for you. For her. Don’t want to miss anything. I finally got my shot at being normal when I met you and I hate myself sometimes when I think about all of the bullshit I've put you through.”

“Don’t,” Y/N paused to press a chaste kiss to Rafe's cheek.

“You’re a good person, Rafe's. A good dad. A good husband. Please don’t ever think that you’re not.”

She felt moisture pool in the dips of her collarbones where Rafe's chin lied, but she didn’t acknowledge it.

“I’ll be okay. Sorry if I freaked you out earlier. Think I just need some time to get used to it all. Just wasn’t expecting Melanie to drop the ball that I was pregnant when all I was expecting was for her to tell me that our kid is in the 99th percentile for weight and then send me on my way.”

This got a chuckle out of him, almost causing him to choke on his tears. He quickly rubbed the sleeves of his sweatshirt against his eyes to dry up any remaining wet spots on his face. 

“She is pretty chunky, isn’t she?” Rafe jested while thumbing over his daughter’s rounded tummy.

After a moment of admiring their little chunk of a baby, with her milk-drunk eyes and puckered lips, Rafe spoke again.

“Two babies,” he huffed.

“Two babies,” she repeated.

His hands moved to caress Y/N’s stomach. She wasn’t showing yet considering that neither of them had even known Y/N was pregnant until today, but he still held her like her belly was the size of a watermelon and he was waiting anxiously to feel a hand or a foot press up against his palm.

“Might be kinda nice. They can share everything and we’ll only have to have one birthday party because they’ll be born around the same time. They’ll go to the same school and probably have the same friends. Kinda like twins.”

“Are you hearing yourself? Rafe Cameron? The party connoisseur? Suggesting his two precious babies share a birthday party?”

Rafe pursed his lips and blushed, recalling the fact that he'd already planned his daughter's first birthday in his head. Down to the tablecloth colors and dinnerware.

“Got me there,” Rafe chuckled.

Their banter was interrupted by a grueling rumbling sound coming from Y/N’s stomach that Rafe could feel throughout his entire body.

“Jesus, Y/N. You hungry too? When’s the last time you ate?”

“Uhh...this morning I think?” Y/N sighed.

“Couldn’t stomach anything when I got home.”

Rafe's heart dropped when he thought of how distraught she’d been all day while he was gone and with everything in him, he’d wished he would have postponed his meetings to go to check up with her and they could have found out together.

“Found those tomatoes at the store the other day, remember? Want me to make that pasta for you?”

“Ohh, yes please,” she immediately perked up at the thought.

“Starting to wonder if that was a craving now that I think about it. Didn’t we have it, what? Three nights in a row a while back?” she proposed.

Rafe giggled as he reluctantly removed Y/N from his lap and stood up from the sofa.

“Thought it was a bit weird that you wanted it so badly, but I know better than to question you.”

“She’s going back down. If you give me a minute, I’ll come downstairs and help you,” Y/N said, pulling up the straps of her tank top after realizing her daughter had long since forgotten about her breast and was conked out in her arms.

“I've got it, mama” Rafe quickly refuted. “Take a bath or something and I’ll bring it up when it’s done.”

“Okay.”

Y/N couldn’t fight the grin growing on her face at the nickname Rafe used that she still hadn’t gotten used to.

When she placed their daughter soundly in her crib, Y/N’s fingers stayed put from where they sat on the railing as she caught herself staring at the sleeping infant once more. Though she’d felt like her world was caving in on her just a handful of hours ago, the pieces were all coming back together now. 

Of course, she wanted more children with Rafe. And now she was getting what she wanted. Just like he’d told her back in the bedroom, it wasn’t ideal, but they’d make it work. They always did. 

With two babies.

[mrsriddlenott]

~Teach Me, Please~

Bsf!JJ Maybank x Innocent!Reader

Warnings: oral(m&f receiving), bit of a handjob, praise kink, spit kink, innocent reader but she’s lowkey in control, reader kinda gets bullied in the beginning but not directly. Not proofread.

{masterlist}

————

“She’s like their little sister,” you heard the kook girl you didn’t recognize laugh as she spoke about you, “She follows them around like a groupie, JJ most of all. It’s like she doesn’t know what to do with what she has, I would be flirting non-stop if I was with him as much as she is. JJ is absolutely delicious.”

“I think they’ll always be just friends,” her equally annoying friend giggles, the pair clearly not noticing you behind them or simply not caring, “I mean look at how innocent she is, I doubt she would know how to please him if she had the chance. She has literally never had a boyfriend, she probably has never given head in her life and JJ gets around a lot he has plenty of better options. Hell he probably doesn’t pay enough attention to even notice her raging crush on him anyway. You should definitely go for it tonight, I’ve heard he’s good.”

You huffed, stomping off back towards the couch you had left JJ on. What annoyed you the most wasn’t the shit talking, you knew people talked, especially kooks who somehow had nothing better to do. What hurt was the accuracy. Despite being the same age as your fellow pogues, and knowing JJ and JB since the third grade, you were still very much innocent. Especially when compared to your ragtag group of friends.

You knew they didn’t mind, they all loved you no matter what. Kie helped you as much as she could but it was pointless, you just didn’t know how to be as laid back as them. You had fun and loved to party as much as they did, but you still preferred a nice night in with a movie. And while part of you used to worry you held them back, they made sure you knew you could always come to them. So when you saw JJ wave you back over with a questioning look in his eyes you knew you could ask him to help you with anything.

And your crush on him had totally and absolutely nothing to do with that decision.

“Will you teach me how to give a blowjob?” You blurt out, dropping onto the couch infront of JJ’s outstretched arm as though everything was normal. He gagged on the gulp of beer he’d just taken before looking to you with wide eyes, trying to decipher if he heard you properly.

“What’d you jus’ say?” His voice was breathless as he wiped his face of spilt beer, your eyes tracing the droplets that escaped down his neck.

“I want you to teach me how to give good head.” You stated, stretching the words to make your intentions clear. You watched JJ’s eyes bounce between your eyes and lips, the gears in his brain working overtime to decide if you were joking or not.

“Like- uh.” JJ starts, his voice strained while he needlessly wipes his mouth again, spreading his legs on the coach and making room for himself and letting his knee touch yours, “Like on what though.” He arches his eyebrow to look at you, not wanting to be presumptuous but wanting nothing more than to help you directly.

JJ would be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about you like that a million times. He wanted you, he just never admitted it out loud because he thought you deserved better. He messed around and acted out while you and John B cleaned up after him but over the years he started to notice a distinct difference in his feelings for Jonh B compared to those he had for you. However, he decided long ago he wouldn’t act on any of them unless you did first, he couldn’t risk ruining you because you were just so good.

“On you Jay, come on don’t make me feel weird about it.” The whining tone of your voice makes JJ bite his lip, unsure if this was ethical. JB would surely frown upon this and Kie would probably kill him for corrupting you. But he was having a hard time fighting the urge now as you looked up to him with pleading eyes.

“Well I don’t wanna take advantage of you or anything, y’know?” He stutters over his words slightly as he fumbles to find anything to say, making you giggle in that way he loves so much. You had never once seen JJ flustered or worried about a girl asking to suck him off and you honestly couldn’t believe it was you who got that honor.

“But I asked you to show me JJ, I want you to teach me.” You beg him, turning your body on the couch to face him fully, placing a hand on his exposed bicep.

And his resolve snapped.

He tossed his half full beer can aside as he stood, not caring where it landed. His hand took your own hand, gently but assertively pulling you up with him. He held onto you tightly, not wanting to lose you while weaving through the crowd in the Chateau making the way to the bedroom he made his. You caught sight of the first kook girl in passing, noticing the way she tried to catch JJ’s eyes only to be ignored. Her face contorted in surprise and disgust while you laughed softly before JJ was yanking you into his room and locking the door behind you both.

“C’mere,” JJ instructed, waving two fingers towards him. When you turn to him he’s facing away from you, grabbing a pillow from the top of his bed and tossing it on the floor at his feet. The bed creeks from his weight flopping onto it, manspreading while watching your slightly shocked and confused face, unable to hide his smile. “Come on, y’wanna learn or not.”

Your legs carry you to him, anxiously messing with the hem of your dress now that you can make out the bulge in his shorts. “Are you sure you want to do this?” His voice draws your gaze back to his and you can see the excitement whirling behind his blue eyes dropping you to your knees carefully, leaning into the comfort of his pillow.

“Thanks for the pillow,” You whisper, locking eyes with him from between his legs, “I didn’t know guys did that, I’ve never seen it in the porn I watch.”

“You watch porn?! Oh my god this keeps gettin’ better.” JJ groans with a smile, knocking his head back and letting you watch his adam’s apple bob, “I’ve never done it before, I just didn’t want you to bruise your knees.”

“Good to know I’m special.” You laugh awkwardly, wiggling with excited and nervous energy where you leant before him. He released an airy laugh above you, looking down at you again, his pupils dilated.

“You have no idea,” JJ’s voice was breathless and his words caught in his throat slightly, “Do you wanna get started on our lesson Princess?” JJ asked teasingly, running his fingers down your warm cheek, stopping to lift your head up by your chin. You nodded, shell shocked as you stare up at him unable to force your mouth to form words.

“I need you to tell me,” He whispered, leaning forward slowly until his lips ghost against yours, “If I’m going to finally corrupt you I need you to ask Cupcake.” Your eyes fluttered shut, taking in his scent as your heart rapped against your ribcage.

“I want you Jay….T-to teach me, please.” Your eyes flick open just in time to catch a wicked grin spread across his face before your cheeks were cupped in his warm palms, tugging your lips into his in a heated kiss. Your sighs mingle together, finally exploring what you both silently desired for so long. His tongue danced across your bottom lip asking for entrance as you gasped letting his tongue fight yours, forcing a moan from you that vibrated against his lips. He pulled away slowly, spit connecting you for a second before you’re licking your lips subconsciously. JJ observes your furrowed eyebrows and the redness flooding over your skin as your eyes stay closed in obvious pleasure.

“Still with me Gorgeous?” JJ asks, tapping your cheeks lightly, smiling excitedly as he watches you look up at him. His painfully hard erection rubbed against the zipper of his shorts as he adjusts his hips. Leaning back and resting his weight on his forearms, his crotch looming in front of you, your wide eyes telling him you have no clue how to start this. “Put your hands on my knees,” He instructs, shivering under your touch when you listen immediately, your cool hands resting against his steadily warming skin, “Good girl, now I want you to slowly move them up, like you’re not sure you want to take my pants off yet, tease me y’know?”

Your breath hitches at his praise, and he notices. You whimper as you try and follow his instructions drifting your hands across his broad thighs and letting your fingers tease under the fabric of his shorts, “You like being my good girl don’t you?” He asks, his voice teasing only slightly, his breathy voice making your thighs clench, rubbing them together desperate for friction.

“Yes, I do,” His eyes immediately catch onto the movement of your thighs, biting his lip while he watches you wiggle in front of him. He twitches in his shorts at the thought of you getting off to his pleasure, moaning loudly when he takes your hand in his pressing your palm directly into his bulge. Using his larger hand to move yours to perfectly cup around him and uses your palm moving it against his shaft as he swallows, desperately trying to collect himself.

“K-keep doing that until you’re ready,” He sighs, letting you continue at your own pace, moving his hand up to your hair to fix it, not wanting it to fall into your face as he watched your features for signs of distress, “When you want to unbuckle my belt and-“ He gasps cutting off his sentence when your fingers immediately jump to hastily undo his belt. Your shaking hands struggle for a few awkward seconds before you’re tugging his shorts down his thighs exposing his black boxers. JJ lifts his hips to let you discard his shorts fully, tossing them aside as you stare into his eyes triumphantly, “Good girl.”

Your wide smile as your hands tease their way back up his naked thighs just as he taught you has him reeling, practically shaking with excitement. “You like being praised, don’t you Mama?” He asks, tugging his lip between his teeth when your fingers find his cock again. He tugs your hand upward, moaning when he presses your hand into his tip, stopping your movements entirely until you respond.

“Yes Jay.” You whine, your tone impatient as you wiggle your hand under his, making him release a breathy moan laced with a laugh as he releases your hand, letting it continue it’s excited exploration of him. Your free hand started to sneak it’s way up his body, making him jolt forward as your cold hand found it’s way into his shirt.

“Who do you wanna learn this for?” JJ blurts out, not entirely wanting to hear the answer as he tugs his shirt over his head impatiently. Closing his eyes as your nails dig their way back down his chest, part of him wondering how you knew he’d like that.

“Myself.” JJ feels the smile grow back on his face, relief flooding his body as he opens his eyes, locking onto your wide gaze looking up to him expectantly. You want his instructions, and he wants to draw this out.

“So there’s no one in that precious mind of yours right now?” He asks, letting his eyes fall down your face, gazing at your wet lips before eyeing your cleavage and wiggling hips. Trying to suppress that part of him that wants you to stay here like this forever.

“Well,” You giggle, palming him through his boxers just over his tip, loving the way his head falls back with a moan when you apply more pressure, “Right now I have you on my mind Jay.”

“Fuck, you have no idea what that does to me,” He smiles towards the ceiling, imagining all the times he came in his hand to this exact scenario, “I thought you were too good for me, why’d ya ask me?”

“Some girls at the party were talking about me, calling me your groupie and saying I wouldn’t know what to do with you if you ever gave me the chance, and I really wanted a chance.” You sigh, drifting your hand down his toned abs to tease the elastic of his underwear, letting it snap against his skin as your excited eyes find his again.

“Oh Princess,” he cooed caressing your cheek, “You have always had the chance. You were the first girl I ever imagined doing this for me.” His eyes went wide when he realized what he had said, almost backtracking before you interrupted him to speak.

“Good, because I can’t imagine anyone else teaching me, I trust you, I want it to be you.” You state simply, locking your eyes in his gaze and taking not of the hitch in his breath. In a spurt of confidence you’re tugging his boxers down his thighs, eyeing his thick, throbbing cock as it bounces free, eyes meeting his again in a beg, “Tell me what to do Jay.”

“First give the tip a kiss Baby,” You do as your told, touching your lips against his hot, red tip as it leaks precum onto your lips, “Mmm, fuck now get your tongue nice and wet and lick up the middle, when it feels right slide my tip against your tongue n’suck on it like those Cherry suckers you’re always begin’ me for.”

You laugh, suddenly feeling more and more confident as you watch him come undone above you. “Is that what you want Jay? Or are you goin’ easy on me?”

“If you think you can take me in one go do it Princess, but don’t think I’m pressuring you,” He sighed, watching your tongue wet the side of his pulsing cock, “I want you to go at the pace you’re comfortable with.”

You smile up at him as you separate from him, letting spit coat your tongue before moving to lick up the prominent vein popping out of the other side of his cock. He groans above you, subconsciously moving his hips closer to your mouth in uncontrollable excitement. As your lips caress against his red, leaking tip you slowly let spit drip from your lips onto him, watching as it drips down him and pools in the bit of trimmed hair at his base. His eyes pop from his head when you bring your hand up to spread your saliva over him, pumping your hand slowly and twisting it like you’d seen in videos. You watched his furrowed eyebrows, buying yourself time to work up enough spit in your mouth to take him fully. His lips tug into his teeth as his hips stutter upward into your hand.

“Where did you learn to do that?” JJ gasps, stuttering and twitching in your wet hand.

“Porn.” Your sickly sweet voice has him moaning and tugging at your hair, forcing you’re eyes up to his.

“You’re so fucking perfect.” He states before slamming his lips into yours, moving you back by your hair wrapped around his fist. You gape up at him wide mouthed, your hand speeding up when his eyes bounce between your open, drooling mouth and your blown out eyes as though asking for permission. You nod your head to him, not sure what he wanted to do but okay with it nonetheless. His free hand jumped to your chin, tugging your mouth open wider before leaning down and spitting directly onto your tongue. Rolling your eyes into the back of your head as you moan you shiver in front of him at the feeling of his spit mixing with yours, unknowingly helping you in your previous goal.

JJ chuckles at your reaction, moaning slightly when your hand speeds up again. You savior the feeling of his spit in your mouth for a second, your eyes latching onto his as you smile wickedly. JJ only takes a second’s pause before his eyed widen watching your mouth dip lower, his fingers subconsciously tightening in your hair, moving his other to grip the bed and ground himself. Breath fills your lungs from your nose, prepping yourself before teasing his tip with your tongue for only a second before you slowly slide him into your mouth. His hips jolt forward subconsciously, shuddering breathlessly when your eyes meet his over your lashes again. JJ curses under his breath, watching you take almost every inch of him in one go, sliding your head down his shaft, resting your hand at his base when you can’t fit anymore.

JJ moans loudly when you swallow around him, jerking his hips into you desperately trying to control himself, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you cut him off quickly, shoving your head as far down as you can go, feeling his tip twitching in the back of your throat as you gag around him. You pop your head up, dragging your tongue against the underside of his shaft, moaning at his taste and sending vibrations through him. You suckle on his tip, preparing yourself as you gasp for breath around him. You start to bob your head up and down him, swirling your tongue as you go dropping low enough to feel his pubes tickle your cheeks, his hands moving to the back of your head to tug your hair into his fingers.

“You’re a natural,” JJ sighs, “Feel like imma cum already Gorgeous, fuck.” Gazing up at him you watch his eyes try and stay open, try to maintain eye contact until they flutter shut when the tip of your tongue grazes his ballsack unintentionally. JJ subconsciously pushes your head down, pulling a moan from you as he groans into his bitten lip, hooded eyes watching you intently now as he tugs you off of him with a pop. His hand stays in your hair, his eyes watching the way your spit dribbles down your chin, mixing with your lipstick and contrasting the black mascara running down you cheeks.

“I want you to try something, but only if you’re comfortable okay?” You nod to him desperately, ignoring the fact that your hair’s probably a mess in his hand, “Flatten out your tongue f’me,” His voice was demanding but soft still, a side of him you had never seen before beginning to come forward, “Yea, good girl just like that,” He says as he watches you stick your tongue out for him, spit dripping down the middle and directly onto is erect cock, “Now lean down and suck on my balls Sweetheart.” Your eyes went wide watching how he bobbed infront of your face. “If you don’t want to that-“

A shiver runs down his spine and directly into his rock hard cock when your warm tongue drags against his heavy sack before you suck one into your mouth, his hand tugs into your hair harder instinctively as he shudders. His shaft twitches against your face, your tongue swirlly against his salty flesh, tugging off him with a pop. You look up to him, makeup dyed spit dripping off your chin and down your chest, “Like that?”

“Yes yes just like that,” He gasps, desperation laced in his tone, immediately making you drop your head back. Sucking his other tight ball into your mouth, swirling your tongue while he shakes you slowly move your hand that was supporting your weight on his knee under your dress, circling your clothed clit with two fingers. Moaning around him as your eyes flutter shut feeling the wet patch seeping through your underwear.

“Open your eyes and look at me,” JJ growls when he catches your hands movement, his hand caress your face gently contrasting his hard tone. Despite wanting to listen your eyes stay shut as you speed up your fingers movement, “Thought you said you liked being a good girl, now listen to me.”

Letting your eyes flicker open you feel your cheeks heating up even more when you catch his gaze. His blue eyes only egg you on further, your fingers speeding up subconsciously while he stares at you with a smile. Breathing through your nose you continue your mouths exploration of him, popping your mouth off of his flesh only to immediately suck his tip into your mouth again. JJ’s hand tugs your hair into a ponytail as you bob your mouth on him, his tip hitting your throat each time making you gag and moan on him. The vibrations of your noises make his hips jolt uncontrollably, his body and dick twitching together as your spit pools on his groin and slips down his thighs.

He releases a loud needy groan when you force your mouth off him, his hand falling from your hair and clutching the blanket below him, mumbling incoherently while trying to ask why you stopped. He whines loudly gasping and gripping the bed so hard his knuckles turn white when you drag your wet tongue from the middle of his ballsack directly to his tip. Moaning when he twitched against your face, sucking him into your mouth while you eye his adam’s apple bobbing. Sensing he was close you stop your fingers with a whine around him, moving in order to move your hands to support yourself on his knees as you suck your cheeks in. You drag your mouth down his shaft and JJ whimpers, shoving his hand into your hair and tugging as he cums down your throat, filling your mouth as you moan.

“Fuck I’m so sorry, I didn’t have time to warn you, do you need’ta spit?” He asks, trying to ignore the tingle running down his spine at the sight of his cum dribbling past your lips.

“It’s okay,” You state simply licking your lips clean, the sweet tone in your voice not changing despite the more than inappropriate circumstances, “Your cum tastes so good Jay, look I swallowed it already.” You stick your tongue out to him, showing what little residue remains as he groans above you again.

“If you need anymore lessons, you can always, and i mean always, come to Papa Jay.” His breathless voice makes you laugh as you hop up to sit next to him on the bed.

“Do you wanna take my virginity too.” The burst of confidence making him cum gave you almost wears off at the look of shock that grows onto JJ’s face.

“Damn Mama, you are so fucking bold tonight, you have no clue how many times I have imagined you asking me that.” He smiles at you, his large ring clad hand gripping your thigh as it sits beside him, “Wanna tell me how long you have been fantasizing about your best friend poppin’ your cherry?”

“Forever.”

“Mmmhmm, that’s what I wanted to hear.” JJ groans, pulling your thighs apart and shoving you backwards letting your dress ride up. He rolls over you, settling over you where you lay on his bed, framing your face with his arms. “I think it’s your turn right now though don’t you?” Shivers run down your spine at his tone, subconsciously trying to rub your thighs together earning a teasing laugh from JJ. You brace yourself on his waste, tugging him closer to you as his lips crash into yours, tongues immediately starting to fight for dominance only for him to win with a groan.

“We should save your first time until there’s not a dozen people right outside the door.” Lowering his voice to a whisper as he lightly digs his hips into you, “And I think we need to have a conversation before we….move forward.” Letting his lips graze your neck as he keeps going he smiles at your gasps of appreciation, “But don’t think I don’t really, really want to right now.”

JJ’s teeth tug at the spaghetti strap string of your dress as he crawls lower down your body, letting it snap back against your skin with a sigh, “You’re so fucking gorgeous, so perfect I can’t even look at you sometimes.” The warm feeling of his tongue against your collar bone has you bucking against him desperately, hissing when his teeth nip at the exposed flesh of your breast.

“I love when you wear this dress,” JJ moans against your skin, his head falling low enough to push his face into your chest for a few seconds, wiggling it around dramatically, making you laugh before be continues his decent, “I don’t wanna take it off.” He groans, biting at your flesh through the fabric.

“Then don’t.” You say breathlessly, smiling down to him as you tangle your fingers into his hair. He smiles back to you, quickly pushing himself down the bed the rest of the way so he was face to face with your exposed thighs. With a quick flick of his wrists he flips the hem of your dress up, exposing your damp matching underwear.

“You matched your underwear to your outfit? That’s so cute.” JJ groans, dipping his head to bite at the flesh of your thigh as his hands slowly work their way up your thighs. He pulls back, watching intently as he slips his fingers past the lace hem of your underwear, tugging them down as you lift your hips to help. You watch him as he tosses your underwear behind him, his eyes meeting yours for a second seeking consent as he shoves your thighs further apart, putting you completely on display for him. JJ licks his lips as he eyes you, moving his hands slowly under and around your thighs resting them on his shoulders before shoving your hips down with his large palms. He groans loudly as he bites into the flesh of your thigh beside him, slowly licking his way to your center and leaving a wet trail behind.

His hands hold your hips down hard as they jolt upward with your moan and laughs into you happily. Eyeing the way your head falls back, your chest rising and fallen he quickly speeds up his tongues pursuit of your clit. Watching you as one hand hangs above your head and the other plays with his hair, JJ can’t think of anything that looks better.

“Oh my god,” You yell, the feeling of his tongue flattening against you, slowly licking back and forth over your clit before quickly sucking it into his mouth. You scream a moan at the sensation, tugging at JJ’s hair aggressively not caring if anyone outside the door can hear your pleasure. “Do that again Jay.” JJ’s lips pop off of you into a smile, his lips glistening with your release before he drops his head back into you. Flicking his tongue aggressively against you as he licks up your slit, groaning at the feeling of your nails against his scalp when he sucks your clit into his mouth again. JJ can feel himself growing hard against the blanket at your taste, your shaking legs egging him on as your release quickly approaches.

The feeling of JJ’s tongue prodding at your entrance as you clench on nothing has the tightening feeling in your abdomen worsening, making you whine and wiggle your hips subconsciously. The grip of JJ’s hands on your hip tightens, his nails digging into your flesh as he grinds himself into the mattress at your excitement. He plunges his tongue into you, collecting your juices on his tongue with a desperate groan, his eyes flickering shut as he moves to flick his tongue against your puffy clit again. JJ pulls back quickly making you whine and tug at his hair, trying to shove him back into you and forcing a wicked laugh from him as he spits directly onto you and dives back in. You shudder when he starts to lap against you wildly, your hips jolting and your back arching, your hands tugs on his hair harder as you cum, the almost painful band in your abdomen breaking in a euphoric release. Moaning so loudly you know for sure anyone close enough to the door could hear but you didn’t care as you came undone on your best friend’s tongue, breath shaking as your body twitches.

JJ’s tongue slows, pushing himself up to get a better look at your post orgasm face, your eyes unfocused and your mouth open in gasping breaths. He slowly crawls up your body, smiling in your face and you smile back at him the best your can, he groans at the sight of your sweaty cheeks, your hair sticking to your forehead as he smash his lips into you. The taste of yourself lingers on his tongue as you both moan into each other.

——————

I might wanna do a part 2 of this for their first time, would anyone be interested in that?

Another Lesson? (Coming Soon)

[iatheia]

I'm not sure I entirely agree? I would love nothing more than if every single student in my class got an A, if they demonstrated they understood the material, and demonstrated it in the homeworks and on the exam. But, there is always a fraction of students who refuse to even show up or do the barest minimum. And plenty of students would half-ass it. And after you taught a class enough times, you can pretty well intuit not "this is the bell curve distribution, and it has to be maintained no matter what" but "this student is doing comparatively to all those who have earned this grade in the past". I strive to have a consistent grading, but it isn't necessarily imposes a particular distribution of grades on a particular class, just that on average you would get certain types of students year after year.

Of course, if you have multiple people teaching the same class, you should communicate with your fellow instructors, striving to have consistency. You want to be fair to the students, if they answer the question incorrectly, but they answer it in the same way, that deserves the same grade, you shouldn't have the case where one student would get a B, and another a D for the same submission assignment in the same class, with the only difference being who is grading them. But this is solved through having a consistent rubrics, not through it being free-for all for the TAs and then trying to match each other's grade distribution.

My opinion on ChatGPT is that it is a tool like any other. And if you know how to use it, great. But in order to use it effectively, you already need to know quite a bit about the material. Even the thing that it is supposedly good at, writing computer code, it cannot handle anything more than the most trivial of tasks without hand-holding. About half of my class involves programing. And it is incredibly obvious when a student uses it. So many times they ended up generating random data instead of using the data provided to them, because a student mindlessly copied over what chatgpt has given them and didn't care if it is correct or not.

Obviously it isn't a problem unique to ChatGPT. A decade ago, there was a different type of assignment that I gave, they needed to go outside and record some observations. And if you know what you are doing, these "recordings" are incredibly easy to fake, and I would have been none the wiser. But if you don't know what you are doing... I had a student trying to convince me that they have never seen the Moon in their life after I caught them trying to "observe" it when it was below the horizon.

But generative AI amplifies the problem more. Even if you wanted to use Spark Notes, at least you needed to read those, and engage with the material to at least some degree. They were also written by people who understood the material, so even if students regurgitate that, they wouldn't be lead quite as far astray. With ChatGPT, students don't even need to read what it wrote to submit it, but they are also more blindsided when it takes them astray.

There were a couple of students I ended up calling out on its usage. One of them has admitted that he had no idea what he is doing, and I sat with him, and I walked him through the assignment, from the beginning to the end. And he is still not great at it, it doesn't come to him naturally at all, but you can definitely see him improving after he started doing stuff without resorting to AI. I can see him being more engaged, more interested in trying to succeed. The other student... is a bit of a hopeless case. They don't care, and I have no idea what is it is they are trying to get out of not just my class, but their major as a whole, because what they are getting out it so far ain't much...

Point is, yes, a diploma doesn't make a person more special than someone who doesn't have one. What matters is your passion, and whether you are willing to put in the work. Classes are meant to encourage cognitive development, to broaden the perspective, to gain at least some skills that would be useful to you later in life - they aren't the only way to get these skills, of course, you can do it in other settings if you chose to apply yourself elsewhere instead. But, if you chose to pursue higher education, then I would hope that by the end of the 4 years, you would get something meaningfull out of it, and this would only happen if you actually put in at least some modicum of effort. Otherwise you might as well buy your diploma off the street, and that would benefit absolutely nobody, least of all yourself.

(taken from a post about AI)

speaking as someone who has had to grade virtually every kind of undergraduate assignment you can think of for the past six years (essays, labs, multiple choice tests, oral presentations, class participation, quizzes, field work assignments, etc), it is wild how out-of-touch-with-reality people’s perceptions of university grading schemes are. they are a mass standardised measurement used to prove the legitimacy of your degree, not how much you’ve learned. Those things aren’t completely unrelated to one another of course, but they are very different targets to meet. It is standard practice for professors to have a very clear idea of what the grade distribution for their classes are before each semester begins, and tenure-track assessments (at least some of the ones I’ve seen) are partially judged on a professors classes’ grade distributions - handing out too many A’s is considered a bad thing because it inflates student GPAs relative to other departments, faculties, and universities, and makes classes “too easy,” ie, reduces the legitimate of the degree they earn. I have been instructed many times by professors to grade easier or harder throughout the term to meet those target averages, because those targets are the expected distribution of grades in a standardised educational setting. It is standard practice for teaching assistants to report their grade averages to one another to make sure grade distributions are consistent. there’s a reason profs sometimes curve grades if the class tanks an assignment or test, and it’s generally not because they’re being nice!

this is why AI and chatgpt so quickly expanded into academia - it’s not because this new generation is the laziest, stupidest, most illiterate batch of teenagers the world has ever seen (what an original observation you’ve made there!), it’s because education has a mass standard data format that is very easily replicable by programs trained on, yanno, large volumes of data. And sure the essays generated by chatgpt are vacuous, uncompelling, and full of factual errors, but again, speaking as someone who has graded thousands of essays written by undergrads, that’s not exactly a new phenomenon lol

I think if you want to be productively angry at ChatGPT/AI usage in academia (I saw a recent post complaining that people were using it to write emails of all things, as if emails are some sacred form of communication), your anger needs to be directed at how easily automated many undergraduate assignments are. Or maybe your professors calculating in advance that the class average will be 72% is the single best way to run a university! Who knows. But part of the emotional stakes in this that I think are hard for people to admit to, much less let go of, is that AI reveals how rote, meaningless, and silly a lot of university education is - you are not a special little genius who is better than everyone else for having a Bachelor’s degree, you have succeeded in moving through standardised post-secondary education. This is part of the reason why disabled people are systematically barred from education, because disability accommodations require a break from this standardised format, and that means disabled people are framed as lazy cheaters who “get more time and help than everyone else.” If an AI can spit out a C+ undergraduate essay, that of course threatens your sense of superiority, and we can’t have that, can we?

[retiredteabag]

Disney Princes I Associate with JJK Men - a brief analysis

masterlist

〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰

Nanami - Kristoff

Nanami is canonically sassier than most give him credit for, especially when he is overworked or having a bad day.

He is pretty gruff when you first get to know him but he is also fiercely loyal and protective.

Many might see him as a "loner" but he seems decently content with being on his own.

Although Nanami worked in a white-collar environment, he is still a sorcerer and equally as hard-working in his blue-collar field.

On occasion, he is grumpy (with Gojo lol) even so, more than anything, he cares for those he loves, and makes many sacrifices to show for it.

Blond?

Gojo - Flynn

Satoru is SO Flynn.

They use charm and good looks to get whatever they want. This may be perceived as shallow, but they still have deep roots.

Flynn has the most "personality" of the princes in the films but does not see himself that way. He is aware of his flaws, and sees himself almost as a fraud.

Like Satoru, he is almost incapable of seeing that there is more to his character than others would see.

Toji - Aladdin

If Dimitri from the Anastasia film was a Disney prince, I might have gone with him but Aladdin fits nearly as well.

Their characters are both shown as being more than what they seem. A "diamond in the ruff" shall we say.

He is not above stealing or lying, and may actively manipulate a narrative to get what they want. Despite this, they do not necessarily have malicious intent, but rather, just want to survive.

They are both heavily motivated by freedom and willing to take risks to acquire it.

Both men become the best versions of themselves when they find love.

I also believe that they might have similar insecurities *cough* riffraff *cough* street rat.

〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰

Next up: Suguru, Sukuna, and Choso any guesses?

all fanart I got on Tumblr, however, I recognize @hunnismokah, @thatsallitchief, and @- narutoss.ramen on Instagram

[imsobadatnicknames2]

ok but i need the evrart claire essay

Okay just be warned that this is gonna be less of an "essay" and more of a loose collection of thoughts, and I don't know how fresh or novel any of these ideas are going to be when it pertains to popular Disco Elysium fan discourse because I don't really do fandom, you know?

Anyway, I think the most obvious factet of Evrart's character is how he very intentionally calls to mind a caricature of corrupt union leaders, the image of a sleazy mobster who only cares about his own personal gain but pays lip service to leftist politics and pretends to care about the interests of workers as a way to obtain and maintain his power. And I think a lot of people straightforwardly read him as such, because that's the way he carries himself and the type of character the game is riffing on. There's also the question of how much of Evrart's manipulative, duplicitous attitude is just how he normally acts and how much of it is him specifically acting that way towards Harry and Kim specifically, it's important to have in mind that your main character is a cop and that would definitely play a role in making Evrart go out of his way to be a bit more of a bastard and toy with you a bit before he decides to actually do anything helpful.

However, once you dig a little deeper into his characterization, it becomes clear that he's pulling a very interesting double bluff, because it becomes apparent that the shady mobster who only cares about his personal gain is an act he's putting on. He's very self-aware about the fact that he's playing the villain, he seems to actively revel in it, but ultimately, it seems like he does it because playing the villain is the way he gets shit done.

This is not to say he's not actually corrupt, or that he's not ALSO involved in all sorts of shady stuff and taking advantage of his position of power, but the game does make it apparent that on some level he DOES have the interests of the people of Martinaise at heart.

For example, it is textually stated that the harbor doesn't need a night watchman, and Evrart created the position specifically to provide a source of income for René. He knows the pension Rene gets is not enough for him to live on, but he's also aware that René is the sort of right-wing guy who would rather starve to death than take a handout (especially from those dirty union commies), so Evrart created a job position which pretty much involves doing nothing for a few hours every night so he could help him with his economic troubles in a way he wouldn't refuse out of principle. René hates his guts, ideologically stands against everything his organization represents, and is generally an unlikeable asshole and a fascist prick, but he's also a disadvantaged member of the community and that seems to matter more.

Even when he asks you to get the signatures to build the community center, which is definitely one of the most morally questionable things he does during the events of the game (as it will improve the community, but at the same time displace the people from the fishing village), his intentions seem to be ultimately good. Due to the very nature of his character and the act he puts on, it's purposefully hard to tell when he's being sincere and when he's being manipulative. However, if Harry's drama and empathy skills are high enough when he's confronted about it, you'll be able to tell that he's not lying about his motives for wanting to build a community center or about the fact that he intends to provide better housing for the people displaced by the project, and that he feels genuine rage about their current living conditions. It can still be said that he's ignoring their self-determination and essentially forcing these people out of their current homes, but he does seem to have good intentions and think he's doing a good thing for them in the long run, even if his methods are morally questionable at best.

In that way, the Union is an extension of him in this regard too. They're pretty unapologetic about the fact that they're openly operating as a crime syndicate, but the game doesn't give you any reasons to believe they're lying when they say they're doing it as a way to muslce out all the more dangerous gangs and crime organizations out of Martinaise, or that their involvement in the drug trade is at least partially motivated by a desire to make sure it's not controlled by more dangerous and violent crime organizations. Again, they're playing the villain as a way to fill that power vacuum and make sure more dangerous people don't fill that role (but of course, that doesn't erase the fact that, noble as their intentions may be, they're still involved in all these shady activities and turning a pretty substantial profit from them too)

Of course, on the other hand, just because the game seems to hint at the fact that Evrart and the Union are, deep down, a force for good, doesn't erase the fact that he's done plenty of bad shit to further his interests, and the game doesn't shy away from this. He's still extremely corrupt, his long-term plan to wrestle control of the harbor away from the company and turn it into a worker-owned operation (which *would* massively improve the material conditions of the dockworkers if succesful) involves endangering the lives of a lot of his own workers, he and his brother Edgar pass the position of union foreman back and forth between each other to circumvent the term limit and keep themselves in power indefinitely, and if you explore all dialogue options with the Deserter it's all but explicitly stated that they rose to power by getting him to assassinate the previous Union forewoman.

These are things that Evrart himself would probably rationalize as sacrifices that need to be made for the greater good. After all, it is implied that the previous union forewoman was also corrupt, except in favor of the company's interests, and might have even been a company plant. However, this doesn't make those things morally right. Good intentions nonwithstanding, it's clear that the Claire brothers are very "the ends justify the means" kind of people, they probably see getting the previous Union leader killed or endangering the lives of the dockworkers to overthrow the company that exploits them as "pulling the lever" in the trolley problem, which is extremely callous at best.

Here's where we get a little more into "disjointed thoughts" territory, but Evrart can also be seen as a critique of the limits of trade unionism and social democrat politics. Something that I completely missed in my first playthrough but was able to catch on during my second is that the people of the fishing village refuse to unionize, and as a result they don't get the same level of support and protection that the union provides to the people of the more urban section of Martinaise. This is apparently widely known enough for characters other than Evrart to comment on (I forget what character I learned this from, but it was definitely not Evrart). So it's clear that Evrart and the Union put their interests of the members of their own organization over those of other working class people, which is one criticism that can be leveraged against the way a lot of leftists seem to treat unions as the ultimate tool for worker class liberation.

Similarly, when Evrart tells you his long-term plans, it's clear that his ultimate goals don't involve complete worker liberation. As far as the game shows, he's a socdem who's still looking to work within the confines of capitalism. There are more radically left wing characters in Disco Elysium, but Evrart is the only one with any actual power to affect change, which kinda speaks to the lack of presence of more hardline leftist positions in mainstream politics. As someone living in Latin America, I kinda ended up seeing a bit of a lot of our currrent socdem politicians in him in that respect, I guess, but i'd need more time to articulate this thought properly, I guess.

Ultimately, I think Evrart is an amazingly crafted character. He evokes a well-known archetype of a shady, corrupt, power-hungry union leader, but he adds a lot of depth, self-awareness, and nuance to it and subverts that characterization in several ways. I think he atually serves an important role of ideologically challenging players who share the developers' and writers' political leanings. I think it would have been very self-congratulatory and autocomplacent to make the most influential leftist character in the game an unambiguously good paragon of workers' rights and working class liberation. By instead giving us someone who's an absolute callous bastard who definitely has a bit of blood on his hands, who's a socdem at best and a self-serving mob boss at worst, but can ultimately be interpreted as a force for good, and asking the players to decide what they think of him I think it brings interesting questions to the table of our commitment to material gains, what sorts of people we're willing to work with, and the sort of acts we're willing to tolerate, and makes the game a lot more thematically rich.

I also think a good analysis of Evrart is incomplete without an analysis of the ways in which he serves a a charater foil for Joyce, but I don't feel like getting into that rn.

[thedensworld]

Talk the Stalker | C.Sc

Pairing: celebritySeungcheol! x celebrityReader!

Genre: fluff

Summary: Seungcheol is obsessed with you, he loves you and he would do anything to protect you.

Note: i'm obsessed, addicted, and drowned in his pretty smile! Happiness suit him sfm!

Seungcheol's hand was warm as it held yours tightly while the two of you entered the restaurant. He had already noticed two or three cameras tailing him outside, snapping pictures of the two of you together. He paid them no mind—your relationship was public anyway, and he was too used to the attention to care. Right now, all that mattered to him was making sure you were okay.

This restaurant was your favorite, a haven you always turned to when your appetite disappeared—which had happened again today. He had picked you up from the shooting set after a long day. You had texted him earlier, letting him know you’d be working from afternoon until late evening. Coincidentally, his own schedule had wrapped up at the same time, so he decided to spend the night with you.

"Can we grab something first? I think I’m gonna pass out," you muttered the moment you slid into his car.

Seungcheol sighed deeply, already anticipating this. You hadn’t eaten, had you? His mind pieced together the puzzle: you probably woke up barely two hours before your schedule, rushed to get ready, spent an hour commuting, and then worked the entire day without a single meal. The thought of it frustrated him—he had been through similar habits in the past, too busy to eat. But seeing you, the love of his life, neglecting yourself like this made his chest ache. Without a word, he drove the two of you straight to your go-to spot.

While you disappeared to the restroom, Seungcheol took the liberty of ordering your usual meal. When you returned, he waved you over, pulling the chair beside him. As you sat down, his hand instinctively reached for your back, rubbing soothing circles to ease the tension he imagined must be building there.

"How’s your back? Still hurt?" he asked gently, his voice tinged with concern.

You had injured yourself three months ago during a stunt for an action film—a brutal fall onto your back that had left you with a dislocated shoulder and lingering pain. While everything had seemed fine recently, yesterday’s severe backache brought the worries flooding back for both of you.

"Stop making me worry, could you?" Seungcheol sighed when you gave him a soft chuckle, clearly trying to downplay the issue. "Sometimes I wonder how your fragile body even handles all those stunts," he added, shaking his head.

“Fragile?” you scoffed, lightly smacking his arm. “I work out, thank you very much.”

He lifted your arm with a smirk, inspecting it playfully. “This slender little arm trying to punch a stuntman? I’m not worried about them; I’m worried about you.”

“Shut up,” you muttered with a grin, making Seungcheol laugh.

He reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your face and tucking it behind your ear. His tone softened as he said, “That’s why you need to stop getting hurt, okay? I know how much you love your job, but if you want to do it for a long time, you have to take care of yourself.”

You blinked, momentarily caught off guard by his words. It was something you always told him whenever he pushed himself too hard. “Stealing my lines now?” you teased, and he chuckled warmly.

After dinner, you suggested taking a walk. Seungcheol hesitated, asking if you were too tired, but you insisted. He figured you must’ve missed him more than you were letting on, and the thought filled him with a fluttery warmth he couldn’t quite explain.

As the two of you strolled down the quiet street, the chill of the night air began to creep in. Seungcheol noticed you shivering and immediately shrugged off his jacket, wrapping it snugly around your shoulders.

“Such a gentleman,” you teased with a playful smile, and he let out a small laugh, shaking his head.

“You know I’d do anything for you, right?” Seungcheol said shyly, his voice barely above a whisper.

You looked up at him, your lips curling into a smile as you clung to his arm. “Anything?” you challenged with a mischievous glint in your eyes. “Would you kill someone for me?”

Seungcheol’s brows furrowed, though his lips twitched with amusement. “Not to that scale. Know your place!” he shot back, earning a soft laugh from you.

"Are you happy with me?" Seungcheol’s voice broke the comfortable silence as he reached for your hand, holding it firmly before swinging it lightly, a playful gesture to get your attention. His thumb brushed over your knuckles, and you couldn’t help but smile at the warmth radiating from him.

You nodded eagerly, the sincerity in your expression clear. "I think you’re one of the very few people who can make me this happy," you admitted, your words filled with genuine affection.

His brows furrowed almost immediately, and he stopped walking, a playful pout forming on his lips. "I’m not the only one?" he asked, feigning offense.

You chuckled, amused by his theatrics. "Know your place," you teased, leaning closer as a mischievous grin spread across your face.

His pout melted into a radiant smile, his dimple making a brief appearance. "I was kidding earlier, babe," he said softly, though his playful tone lingered as he began walking backward to face you, still holding your hand securely in his.

Seungcheol's gaze lingered on you, his eyes warm and filled with adoration. After a moment, he raised a brow and asked, “Can I stay the night?” The flirty tilt of his tone made you raise yours in mock disbelief.

“Isn’t this the first time you’re actually asking?” you questioned, suppressing a laugh as you tilted your head.

He nodded, chuckling at your amused expression. “I know, I know. I must be the worst boyfriend, huh? I never ask for consent, I won’t kill anyone for my girlfriend, and to top it all off, I make fun of her slender arms.”

You gasped in mock outrage and raised your hand to playfully slap his arm, but he anticipated it and bolted ahead, laughter echoing through the quiet park near the restaurant. The chase was on, and you found yourself running after him, your laughter mingling with his in the cool night air.

That night, before heading home, the park became your private playground, filled with stolen moments of joy and carefree laughter. You hoped, for both your sakes, that no paparazzi managed to capture the scene.

*

You entered your apartment, Seungcheol trailing behind you. Though it wasn’t as luxurious or spacious as Seungcheol’s place, it carried a charm he adored—you. Every corner of your home was filled with your scent, your presence, and your personality. To him, it wasn’t just a place—it was a sanctuary, his sanctuary.

“Home sweet home,” you muttered, kicking off your shoes. Seungcheol smiled, watching as you settled in, your energy shifting into the comfort of your space.

As usual, Jibby, your orange tabby cat, sauntered over to greet you, his tail flicking lazily behind him. The cat had been your loyal companion ever since you rescued him on a shooting set two years ago. Predictably, Jibby ignored Seungcheol entirely, keeping his amber eyes locked on you with unwavering devotion.

“Still no love for me, huh?” Seungcheol joked, crouching to scratch Jibby behind the ears, only to receive a flick of the tail in return. “This cat’s got some serious attitude.”

You chuckled, picking up Jibby and holding him close. “He’s selective. He knows who pays the rent around here.”

As you placed Jibby back on the floor, you noticed strands of his fur scattered everywhere. “Oh, Jibby! Your fur’s everywhere!” you exclaimed, brushing some off your pants.

Seungcheol nodded in agreement, crouching to inspect the floor. “It’s not even summer, and he’s already shedding like crazy. You think he’s stressed?”

Your face filled with concern as you knelt beside Jibby, running your hands gently over his fur. “Oh no, Jibby. What’s wrong, baby? Are you okay?”

Before you could continue, Jibby let out a loud, startling meow, making both you and Seungcheol jump. The sound was completely out of character���Jibby was always a calm and quiet cat.

“That’s...new,” Seungcheol said, frowning. “I’ve never heard him meow like that before.”

Your concern deepened, and as if on cue, there was a knock at the door. Opening it, you found your building’s security guard standing there. “Sorry to bother you,” he said, his tone apologetic. “We got a report from your neighbor. They said your cat’s been meowing loudly for hours. Is everything okay?”

You turned back to Jibby, the worry evident in your eyes. “I don’t know,” you admitted, stroking his fur as he let out another sharp meow. “I think something’s wrong.”

That night, sleep was the last thing on your mind. You stayed up with Jibby, trying to comfort him as his restless meows continued. Seungcheol, sensing how stressed you were, insisted on staying over. When he saw how exhausted you looked around 3 a.m., he gently took over, cradling Jibby in his arms while you rested on the couch.

By dawn, it was clear Jibby needed professional care. “I’ll take him to the vet,” Seungcheol offered, his voice soft but firm. “You’ve got an early schedule, and I can handle this.”

You hesitated, guilt flickering in your eyes. “Are you sure? You’ve already—”

“Hey,” he interrupted, giving you a reassuring smile. “Jibby’s family. And family takes care of each other.”

As you watched him gently place Jibby into the carrier, whispering soothing words to the stressed cat, you felt a swell of gratitude and love for the man who had seamlessly woven himself into your life—and Jibby’s too.

The next day, Seungcheol received a call from the vet. The feline, Jibby, was missing home and showing signs of increased stress. Hearing this, Seungcheol couldn’t help but worry. You were out of town for a shooting schedule and wouldn’t be back until the next day, so Seungcheol decided to take matters into his own hands. He asked his manager to help him pick up Jibby from the vet, determined to make the cat feel better.

Driving to your apartment with Jibby in the passenger seat was no small task. The cat meowed incessantly, his cries echoing through the car. Seungcheol tried speaking to him in the same soft, soothing tone he had heard you use countless times. “Hey, buddy, we’re going home. You’ll feel better soon, I promise,” he said, glancing over at Jibby. But his attempts were futile; the cat’s distress didn’t subside, and Seungcheol found himself understanding your concern on a much deeper level.

Once they arrived, Seungcheol texted you: “Jibby’s home safe now. Don’t worry, I’ve got him.”

He set down Jibby’s carrier, opened it, and placed some food in the bowl. He watched as the cat cautiously stepped out, sniffing around before beginning to eat. Gradually, Jibby seemed to relax.

Seungcheol didn’t turn on the lights, thinking it might overwhelm Jibby. Instead, he opened the curtains slightly, letting the moonlight bathe the room in a soft glow. Leaning back on the couch, he kept an eye on the cat, who finally settled beside him.

“You finally opened up to me, huh, Jibby?” Seungcheol murmured, his voice tinged with amusement. It felt like a small victory to earn even a fraction of the cat’s trust.

Suddenly, the sound of the passcode being entered broke the serene moment. Seungcheol sat up, his body tensing. You weren’t supposed to be home until tomorrow. Who could it be?

The door creaked open, and a shadowy figure in a hoodie stepped inside. Jibby’s demeanor shifted instantly; he bolted toward the figure, his fur standing on end as he hissed and meowed angrily.

Seungcheol’s heart pounded as he rose from the couch, flipping on the lights. “Who are you?” he barked, his voice filled with authority. The intruder froze for a second before bolting for the door.

Not wasting a moment, Seungcheol dashed after him. The man was just reaching the emergency exit when Seungcheol grabbed him by the hoodie and shoved him against the wall with a force that came from pure adrenaline.

“Who are you?!” Seungcheol growled, his voice dangerously low as he pressed the man harder against the wall, preventing any chance of escape. “Why are you here? Why do you know my girlfriend’s passcode?”

The intruder struggled, but Seungcheol’s grip was unyielding. The hours he’d spent learning jiu-jitsu were finally paying off. His sharp eyes scanned the area until he spotted a CCTV camera. Without hesitation, he dragged the man into its view, ensuring the footage would capture everything.

Jibby followed, his meows loud and furious as if scolding the man himself. The cat even swiped at the intruder’s legs, his claws adding to the chaos.

Moments later, two security guards arrived, their faces a mix of concern and confusion. “What’s going on here?” one of them asked.

Seungcheol’s jaw tightened as he explained, his voice steady but laced with anger. “This guy broke into my girlfriend’s apartment. He knew her passcode. I caught him before he could get away.”

The guards immediately restrained the man, apologizing profusely to Seungcheol. “We’ll handle this. Thank you for acting quickly, sir,” one of them said as they led the intruder away.

Seungcheol stood tall in front of the man sitting tied to the chair in the dimly lit security room. The sight of him was sickening. Moments earlier, Seungcheol had watched the CCTV footage of this guy sneaking into your apartment multiple times in recent days. A wave of anger surged through him as he pieced things together. Was this the reason Jibby had been so stressed lately?

Seungcheol’s hand instinctively went to rub Jibby, who sat calmly in his arms, a stark contrast to the turmoil bubbling inside him. The cat, ever so loyal, seemed to sense his unease.

The man muttered something under his breath, barely audible. “I’m just a fan…”

Seungcheol’s blood boiled at those words. He stepped closer, his voice sharp and unwavering. “No fan should do this. You’re not a fan—you’re a criminal!” He clenched his fists, the urge to lash out barely held in check.

The security guards standing nearby intervened, stepping between Seungcheol and the intruder. “Sir, please, the cops are on their way. We need your cooperation,” one of them said firmly, trying to de-escalate the situation.

But Seungcheol wasn’t ready to let it go. He glared at the man, his voice dripping with contempt. “What did you do? Did you plant a camera or something? Huh?” He leaned in, his intense gaze locking on the man, pressing him for answers.

The intruder hesitated, his eyes darting nervously before he gave a reluctant nod. That was all it took. Rage exploded in Seungcheol as he handed Jibby to a nearby guard before grabbing the man by his collar.

“You sick—” Seungcheol growled, but before he could finish or act on his anger, the security team pulled him back, their firm grip reminding him to maintain control.

“Mr. Choi, we’ve got this. Let us handle it,” one of the guards reassured him.

Seungcheol’s chest heaved as he let go, glaring daggers at the man who cowered in the chair.

Seungcheol stormed out of the security room, his frustration bubbling over as he marched toward the head of security standing nearby.

“How did this even happen?” Seungcheol’s voice was sharp, cutting through the tense atmosphere. “Your job is to protect her and everyone in this building. Do you even realize how badly you’ve failed?”

The head of security looked uneasy but tried to maintain composure. “Sir, we’re investigating the breach—”

“Investigating?” Seungcheol scoffed, his voice rising. “This isn’t some minor mistake! That man entered her home multiple times, and you didn’t notice? What if she had been home alone? Can you guarantee what that bastard could’ve done to her?” His voice cracked slightly at the end, the thought of you in danger overwhelming him.

“Mr. Choi, I assure you—”

“No!” Seungcheol cut him off, stepping closer. “You can’t assure me of anything. You couldn’t even keep a stranger out of her home! She trusted this place to be safe, and you let her down.”

The head of security hesitated, clearly struggling to respond, as Seungcheol continued. “Do you know how terrified she’ll be when she finds out? Do you know how hard she works, how much she sacrifices, only to come home to this?”

Taking a deep breath, he added, “I don’t care what it takes—double the patrols, update your system, install better cameras, do something. Because if this happens again, I swear, there’ll be hell to pay.”

The head of security nodded quickly. “Understood, Mr. Choi. We’ll prioritize this immediately. I’ll personally oversee the updates and report back.”

Turning on his heel, Seungcheol made his way back to your apartment with Jibby settled on his arms. As he entered, he set Jibby down gently and sighed, his heart still racing. His protective instincts were on overdrive, and all he wanted was to make sure you were safe.

He sent you another text:

“Call me when you can.”

Seungcheol leaned back on the couch, his gaze shifting to Jibby, who was curled up on the carpet, seemingly calm after the ordeal. The sight of the cat, finally at ease, should’ve been comforting, but it wasn’t.

The thought of leaving you and Jibby alone in this apartment, even for a second, made his stomach twist. He sat forward, rubbing his temples as his mind raced. “I can’t just leave you here,” he muttered, as if Jibby could understand.

Decision made, Seungcheol stood and began gathering a few of Jibby’s essentials. He packed the cat’s food, a couple of toys, and the small bed you’d bought for him. Jibby tilted his head curiously, his tail flicking as he watched Seungcheol move around.

“You’re coming with me, buddy,” Seungcheol said softly, crouching down to scratch behind Jibby’s ears. “At least until we know this place is safe again. No arguments, okay?”

Jibby responded with a low purr, and Seungcheol took it as agreement.

*

"Why is he in your place?" you asked, your laughter spilling through the phone as you watched Jibby sprawled comfortably beside Seungcheol on his couch. His home looked warm and inviting in the dim lighting, and even through the screen, you could see how relaxed Jibby seemed.

Seungcheol smiled at your reaction, his voice softening. "Jibby feels at home here. I think he loves my place. Isn’t that right, Jibby? You want to live here with me?"

As if on cue, Jibby let out a soft meow and snuggled closer into Seungcheol’s arm, his orange fur brushing against Seungcheol’s sweater. You chuckled, shaking your head in disbelief.

"I left him with you for one day, and now you two are best friends? This is betrayal," you teased, though your heart warmed at the sight of them together.

Seungcheol laughed, patting Jibby gently on his back. "Oh, it’s not betrayal. He actually loves me—he just doesn’t want to make you jealous."

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips. "Sure, sure. Next thing I know, you’ll be telling me he’s moving in with you."

Seungcheol tilted his head, a playful glint in his eyes. "Actually, I was thinking you both could. I mean, look at him. He’s practically claimed my couch already."

Your laugh turned into a soft sigh. "Babe, you’re joking, right?"

"Am I?" He raised an eyebrow, his tone playful but his expression growing serious. "Think about it. Jibby clearly loves it here. My place is bigger and you wouldn’t have to worry about leaving him when you’re out for work. Plus..."—his voice softened—"I’d get to see you every day."

You blinked at him, caught off guard by the earnestness in his words. "Baby, are you actually suggesting I move in with you?"

"Why not?" He shrugged, but the hopeful look in his eyes betrayed how much he meant it. "It makes sense. Jibby’s happy here, and I’d feel better knowing you’re both safe. You can have your own space, do things your way. No pressure, but... I’d really like it if you were here."

Your gaze shifted to Jibby, who was now fully sprawled out on Seungcheol’s lap, purring softly. The sight was oddly comforting, and you couldn’t deny how much you missed Seungcheol already, even though you’d only been apart for a day.

"I don’t know," you said hesitantly, though your voice wavered with the idea already taking root in your mind. "It’s a big step."

Seungcheol leaned closer to the camera, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Big steps aren’t so scary when you’re not taking them alone, you know. Just think about it, okay?"

Your heart fluttered at his words, and you nodded, unable to suppress the smile that crept onto your face. "I’ll think about it."

Seungcheol grinned, the kind of grin that made your chest feel warm. "Good. Jibby and I will be waiting."

The sight of him and Jibby, so at ease together, made you wonder if moving in wasn’t such a crazy idea after all.

End.

[cyarikaplease]

and i’ll never see you again if i can help it

ex!joel miller x f!reader

summary: after breaking up with Joel, you take an opposite patrol shift to avoid him at all costs.

warnings: smut and angst

“The first time I tasted somebody else's spit, I had a coughing fit

I mistakenly called them by your name

I was let down it wasn't the same”

The cold nighttime air startled your lungs as you stumbled outside. Before you had time to acclimate, his lips were pressed against yours. You drunkenly kissed him back, him being some guy you met at the Tipsy Bison whose name you couldn’t even be bothered to recall. You got a taste of his spit, bitter from the alcohol he just drank. You forced yourself not to gag which caused you to pull away and cough violently, the crisp November air certainly not helping. 

He looked at you under the dim street lamp and chuckled, “You okay?”

Tears sprung at the corners of your eyes as you continued your coughs and struggled to catch your breath. He rubbed your back as your coughing fit came to an end. 

That was nice of him.

When the coughing finally dissipated you resigned to kissing him again. He pressed you against the side of the building and worked on your neck, leaving sloppy, wet kisses on your soft skin.

You started to moan a little and as he kissed and sucked on your neck, you subconsciously moaned “Joel”. 

He stopped. You felt the blood rush to your cheeks and your face grew hot. He slowly pulled away from your neck and looked you in the eye. 

“…What did you just say?”

You didn’t know what to say. It’s not like you could tell him the truth, “Oh I was just moaning my ex’s name.” That would crush him. You stared at each other under the streetlamp and through puffs of your visible breath. The expression on his face was a mixture of disappointment and betrayal.

“I- I…” you stuttered out.

He shook his head and muttered “Forget it” before turning and walking home, leaving you alone in the dark street with nothing but the shame you felt. 

“I’m doing fine, trying to derail my one-track mind

Regaining my self-worth in record time

But I can’t help but think of your other in the bed that was mine”

You sighed and went to walk home yourself, the shame already melting away. It’s not like it was going to be anything serious anyway. Who cares if you called him by the wrong name? You’re still healing from your breakup with Joel anyway. You were bound to be a little messy here and there. The shame had started shapeshifting into pride of some kind. But all that changed when you saw him leaving the Tipsy Bison. And no, not the random guy from before. This time him being Joel. And he was with a woman. They were clearly drunk and practically hanging off of each other. How had you not noticed him inside earlier? And as they walked towards the direction of Joel’s home, the home that you used to share with him, you heard something rare; Joel was laughing. Jealousy stirred a pit in your stomach. Your hands clenched at your sides. Tears sprung in your eyes again. The shame returned but this time for a different reason. You were ashamed you no longer had a rebound. You wanted to prove to Joel that you didn’t need him; that you were moving on. But instead, you were standing in the street feeling jealous, watching him walk home to fuck someone where he used to fuck you. 

“Am I a masochist, resisting urges to punch you in the teeth

Call you a bitch and leave?”

You wanted to yell after him; tell him to stop; ask what he thought he was doing. Maybe even call him a name or two. Maybe throw him a punch. Maybe not the punch though. That was just drunk you talking. You didn’t really have a right to do any of those things anyway. You were broken up. He was free to move on to whoever he wanted. You turned on your heel and walked home, head hanging low in humiliation. You returned to your empty home, collapsing into bed and finally letting the tears flow now that you were alone. You thought about what Joel was doing with her. Was he kissing her? Were they holding each other? Were they in what used to be your bed with Joel? Did he have the same attention to detail with her pleasure that he used to have with yours? It made your stomach twist into knots. The alcohol mixed with the feelings of regret, longing, and nostalgia; all of it fusing together, leaving you nauseous. You ran to your bathroom and emptied the contents of your stomach into the toilet. You sat on the floor, rested your head against the toilet seat, and sobbed, the tears making your face sticky and puffy. You knew you were gonna look like shit tomorrow, eyes puffy and bloodshot, all the color in your face faded. And to make matters worse, you had a daytime patrol shift with Joel tomorrow. The thought of him seeing you like this was mortifying. You wanted him to think that you were moving on; that you didn’t need him anymore. But that was far from the truth. 

“Why did I come here? To sit and watch you stare at your feet? 

What was the plan? Absolve all your guilt and shake hands?”

You woke up that morning with a splitting headache. The morning sun creeping in through the windows didn’t help either. You rose from your bed slowly, the aches in your body starting to set in. You went to the bathroom and took a look at yourself in the mirror. The bags under your eyes were a deep purple and the life was sucked from your face. You thought about Joel seeing you like this… which led you to think about him waking up with her this morning. The pain that that thought gave you was indescribable. It tore at your stomach and your heart, leaving them with heavy pits. You leaned over the bathroom counter and took slow, deep breaths, heading facing down at the sink. After talking yourself down from the impending mental breakdown you got ready for your patrol shift, slipping on your clothes and grabbing your gun on the dresser before exiting into the brisk morning. You put your pants in the pockets of your jacket and stared at the ground as you walked, not trying to make eye contact with anyone as Jackson was waking up for the day. 

You reached the main gate to find Joel waiting there, too, also looking at the ground. Tommy and a few others were waiting as well. You wordlessly headed to the stables, mounting on your houses for the patrol. The tension between the group hung heavy in the air, thanks to you and Joel. Everyone in town knew about your breakup and how messy it was. Nobody dared to say a thing as you and the group exited through the gate and spread out along the walls of Jackson. Somehow you and Joel ended up next to each other, neither of you looking in the other’s general direction. The strain and hostility between you two was so strong it was pliable. It felt like a weight being pushed down on your shoulders. And that’s how most of the shift went– you and Joel next to each other or walking by each other on your horses, never making eye contact. It was awkward for you, him, and everyone else unfortunate enough to be on the same patrol shift with you guys. If only you could switch patrol shifts…

But your thoughts are interrupted when Joel speaks, startling you. 

“Can we talk?”

Really? Now?

“I don’t really think here is the best time or place…” you said, glancing at the others around you.

“Meet me at the diner after our shift?” he asked in a hushed tone. 

The diner in Jackson had a service for patrol shift workers to stop in for coffee whenever they needed it. Going to the diner after your patrol shifts was something you used to do together. Now, you avoided that place like the plague, finding it to be painful to go to. 

Your brow furrowed, “Sure, I guess…”

He nodded silently and led his horse in the opposite direction around the fence. You didn’t see him much for the rest of your shift. And when you did you didn’t really look him in the eye. The day seemed to drag on, the sun getting lower and lower in the sky. At the end of your shift, you headed back to the stables and dismounted from your horse, starting the walk to the diner. Jackson was bathed in a warm red glow, a beautiful sight on a normal day but you were too nervous to appreciate it. As you approached the diner you saw Joel through the window, sitting at a booth, looking down at his hands.

“I feel no need to forgive but I might as well

But let me kiss your lips so I know how it felt

Pay for my coffee and leave before the sun goes down

Walk for hours in the dark feeling all hell”

You entered the diner with a ding from the bell attached to the door. Joel looked up from his hands and met your eyes. You wordlessly walked to his booth and sat across from him, not knowing what to say. But again, Joel spoke first.

“I’m sorry you had to see that outside the Tipsy Bison last night…”

So he did see you. That made this so much worse.

You sighed, “You don’t have anything to apologize for. We’ve been broken up for like a month now.”

“I know but that doesn’t mean I don’t care for you or your feelings anymore…”

He looked at you with a solemn expression on his face. Before either of you could say anything the waitress came over to take your order. 

“Can I get you two anything else besides coffee? Something to eat?”

Not in the mood to eat. Not during a talk like this. 

“Just the coffee for now,” you replied. 

“Same for me.”

“I’ll be right back with those,” she said before, turning and heading behind the counter. 

“I mean… I forgive you I guess?”

He nodded and reached your hand across the table.

But why? Why is he doing this if he supposedly moved on? You missed him, though. And you’d be lying to yourself right now if this didn’t make you at least a little bit happy. 

You took his hand and sighed, rubbing your thumb across his. 

“Why are we doing this? I thought we were supposed to be moving on. I’ve been trying to, at least.” It physically pained you to say those words but it was what needed to be said. He can’t just go home with another woman and then come back to you apologizing. He either wanted you or he didn’t.

He didn’t answer. The waitress returned with your coffees and you sipped on them silently; the warm liquid soothing you after a long day out in the cold.

You continued, “I just don’t get what’s going on here. It all feels like a mixed signal.”

“I want to move on. I really do. But when I try to move on I find myself feelin’ guilty. And it doesn’t help that we work the same patrol shift. I see you all the time and anytime I look at you, I just feel guilty.”

“I’ll make this easier for both of us, Joel,” you said, giving him a sad smile. “Don’t worry about me. Just live your life.”

Something compelled you to give him one final kiss before it was over forever. You leaned over the booth and gave him a quick, chaste kiss, even though you would regret it later. Before he could say anything in return, you slid out of the booth and stood up, getting ready to leave. 

“Goodbye, Joel,” you said before leaving him behind, in the past where he belongs. 

“Don’t hold your breath, forget you’ve ever saw me at my best

You don’t deserve what you don’t respect

Don’t deserve what you say you love and then neglect

Now bite your tongue, it’s too dangerous to fall so young

Take back what you said

Can’t lose what you never had”

The sun was setting. The people of Jackson were heading towards their homes, but not you. You walked through the dark streets, in a melancholy haze. You missed him so much but there was a reason your relationship ended. But still, you found yourself reminiscing on the good times; the patrol shifts together, him teaching you how to play guitar, laughing together with Ellie. But he didn’t love you the way you needed to be loved. It was understandable given all he went through. But he didn’t need to tell you he loved you and treat you otherwise. 

You met each other in Kansas City after FEDRA’s control there collapsed. 

And when you first got together he would always tell you to be careful falling for him. You were a lot younger than him. Looking back, he was probably right. But he stopped trying to fight your feelings towards him and just accepted it. And that’s all it most likely was at the end of the day; him just accepting you, not loving you back. At least that’s what you thought. Maybe there was a part of grumpy, stoic Joel Miller that loved you deep down. And if that part of him existed, he was terrible at letting it out. 

It wasn’t a breakup where one person broke up with the other. You both felt it coming for a while. The greatest love you’d ever known (or thought you’d ever known) slipped through your fingers. And you both felt it was time to cut it off. That was a little over a month ago and it hasn’t been any easier since.

After a while the frigid night turned into dawn. You stayed out the whole night, loafing around. Soon it would be time for your patrol shift but you thought about what Joel said.

“And it doesn’t help that we work the same patrol shift. I see you all the time and anytime I look at you, I just feel guilty.”

“You got a 9 to 5, so I’ll take the night shift

And I’ll never see you again if I can help it

In five years I hope the songs feel like covers

Dedicated to new lovers”

You spotted Tommy walking to his patrol shift and that’s when you got the idea: ask for the night shift.

“Tommy!” you shouted, “Wait up!”

He stopped walking and turned to face you. You jogged a little bit to catch up with him.

“Hey,” he said wearily, taking in your current state. “Did you go to bed last night?”

“No… But I actually had something I wanted to ask you.”

“Shoot.”

“Would it be alright if I took the night shift instead?”

He let out a small sigh. He knew what this was about. 

“…I don’t see why not.”

“Thanks. Can I start tonight?”

“Yeah, that’s fine. Go home and get some sleep,” he said, looking at your tired face.

“Thanks, Tommy,” you replied before walking home.

You didn’t see Joel walk to his shift. Maybe he was already there. Maybe he would notice your absence. Maybe he wouldn’t care. Maybe he would be relieved. 

You walked inside and went straight to your bedroom, peeling off the clothes you had been wearing for the past twenty four hours. You slipped on something to wear to sleep and crumpled into bed, exhaustion taking you over. You still found yourself dreaming of Joel. You dreamt of when he taught you to play guitar. He knew some songs from before the outbreak but not a ton. So a lot of the songs you made up on the spot, not necessarily accompanied by singing either, something neither of you were skilled at. But it was something you two did together. It was something that made the detached Joel Miller enjoy himself for once. Maybe one day he would play those songs for someone else or forget yours and make up new ones entirely. Maybe he would teach her how to play guitar. Maybe he would give up that hobby altogether after you, finding it too painful. 

You slept throughout the whole day, waking up a couple of hours before your night shift. You opened your eyes groggily, not adjusted to the light coming in through the windows yet. You rubbed your eyes and opened them to see a tall, looming figure standing over your bed.

“What the fuck?!” you shouted, sitting upright. 

You blinked a few times and your vision focused. It was just Joel and he had a scowl on his face.

“Jesus Christ, Joel. You scared the shit out of me,” you said in an annoyed tone, trying to quell your racing heartbeat.

“The fuckin’ night shift?!” he said gruffly, still towering over you. 

“And what about it?” you challenged, folding your arms. 

“What was the fuckin’ reason for it,” he replied, sitting across from you on the bed.

“Thought about what you said yesterday… Seemed like the right thing to do if we’re gonna move on from each other…”

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Yeah, but you don’t go and do something rash like that.”

“Something rash? You mean just swapping my work schedule? Last time I checked I didn’t have to consult with you about that.”

He fell silent so you continued, “You can’t just say you’re done with me; that you’re trying to move on, and then come here and get upset because I changed my work schedule. I’m sick of the fucking mixed signals, Joel. You either want me or you don’t.”

You finished your little speech with a loud sigh, sounding annoyed as fuck. The audacity of this man was unbelievable. He can take home some other woman the night before but come to your house, when you’re sleeping, and get all possessive? Enough was enough.

You scooched closer to him on the bed. 

“So what’s it gonna be, huh? Make up your fucking mind.”

Without warning his lips crashed against yours. His kisses were messy and sloppy. And almost angry. His hands found themselves in your hair. This was the exact opposite of what you should be doing but you didn’t care. You missed him so much. 

He pushed against you, coaxing you to lie down on the bed. And when you did, he hovered over you with a hungry, insatiable look in his eyes. He returned to kiss you messily while his hands roamed the rest of your body, trailing down to the pants you were wearing, thumbing at the waistband. You moaned softly underneath him and he pulled off your pants, tossing them on the floor. His hand grazed up your thigh, resting on your cunt that was growing wet in anticipation. 

“Bet you missed this,” he whispered against your ear. 

You let out a small whimper in response as his fingers teased your entrance, brushing against the wet, tender flesh. 

“You’re already so wet for me, darlin’.”

Darlin. That was an older pet name Joel had given you. And it’s been a while since you’ve heard it. That fucker knew exactly what he was doing. He knew all the ways to make you melt under his touch. 

You spread your legs open for him, gaining him access to slip a finger inside you. His mouth found your neck, peppering it with sloppy kisses. You rocked your hips against his hand, desperate for more. And when he finally gave you another finger, you felt the pleasure in your core building more and more. 

His mouth left your neck and trailed down to your entrance, licking small, soft circles around your sensitive clit. You knew you weren’t gonna last long like this, his fingers hitting your g-spot perfectly and his tongue caressing your clit in a way that sent you into intense euphoria. He always knew how to get you cum quickly and hard. 

“I’m gonna cum, Joel,” you whined. 

He moaned against your clit in response, letting you know he wanted to feel it. And when you did cum, it was intense. Your cunt fluttered around his fingers as he pumped them in and out of you relentlessly. You soaked his face in your cum as you rode out your high, rocking your hips against him. Once you were done coming, you collapsed your hips back down on the bed, legs still shaking. 

You were catching your breath when he looked up from your cunt and said “Not done with you yet, darlin’.”

He stood up from the bed for a moment to remove his clothes. You took the moment to sit up and pull off your shirt over your head, tossing it on the floor with your pants. He returned to the bed and hovered over you by your face. 

“Ready for me?”

You nodded and he aligned himself with your entrance, thrusting his hard cock into you extra slow to drive you insane. He took your legs and put them over his shoulders before you even had time to adjust to his size. It’d been a month since you’d taken his cock and you weren’t used to his size anymore. 

He leaned down so you were face to face, legs pushed back towards your head hitting the perfect angle inside you. It was intense and all you could do was moan and whimper as he fucked your wet, little cunt incessantly.

“Can’t tell you how much I missed this perfect cunt, darlin’. It’s like it was made for me.”

Between his dirty talk and the angle he was hitting inside you, you weren't gonna last long. You felt your walls tense up in anticipation of release. He sensed it too and thrusted in and out of you harder and harder, anxious to feel you cum around his cock.

“Give it to me, sugar. Cum on my cock.”

And when you did, it nearly sent him over the edge. He willed himself to wait until your release was over before pulling out. Stars prickled your vision and tears welled up in the corner of your eyes. Your release was intense, convulsing his cock like a vice. As he felt your orgasm come to an end, he pulled out. You reached in between your legs and stroked him to completion, coating your stomach in thick, white ropes of cum.

He slumped down on the bed next to you, burying his face in the crook of your neck. Neither of you dared to say a word as the feeling of regret started to sink in. You let your thoughts run wild as if to avoid talking about what just happened.

“You got a 9 to 5 so I’ll take the night shift

And I’ll never see you again if I can help it”

Maybe you couldn’t help it after all.

[ventique18]

Malleus really wouldn't want to create dreams for everyone because his reason for doing this entire incident is rooted in love. And controlling others by forcing them into dreams they don't want is not love. While it's true that the characters end up realizing they don't want those dreams, that's the keyword exactly. Realizing. Their dreams are the easiest way to escape from their current biggest problem, and so they created a dreamscape where they don't have to worry anymore.

Malleus cares a lot about others and generally just wants them to find happiness, sometimes even at the cost of his own comfort. You can clearly see that in the way he just lets his knights find their purpose in protecting him, even when he himself feels a bit suffocated by the attention. You can see this in the way he made himself favor humans even when everyone else around him hates them, because Lilia loves Silver and Silver is a human and disliking Silver would make Lilia sad.

He's a bit callous because he doesn't know how to make others happy the normal powerless way, but the fact is that he's one of the characters who actively DOES NOT want to be a bad person. In fact he's always trying his best to be a good person. Everything he does is because he thinks it would make others happy. Being controlled as the sole heir to their bloodline did not make him happy, so he probably doesn't like the idea of dictating others' lives even if it's just a dream.

And I think that'll play a huge part in Book 7's conclusion. He'll probably fall apart when he realizes that he causes suffering when all he ever wanted was to make others happy. Just like usual, he could never do anything right even with that much power.

[a1ecmcdowell]

all the times mechanic!dean was humbled by bimbo!reader - 18+

★ ˚⋆

dean was convinced, a lot of the time, that not a single coherent thought existed in the white noise of your brain, just accepting that you were one of those girls with a pretty face to her legacy. it wasn't a bad thing. he'd never admit it, but seeing your face light up when he explained something to you was one of his favorite looks on you - the glimmering wide eyes, the o-shaped part of your glossy lips as the pieces clicked into place.

other times, he was floored by the capacity of that pretty little head and the information it held. completely floored. you never said anything with malice either, or chastised him for not thinking in the same way that you did. just stated the things like fact, typing away on your pretty pink iphone with your pretty pink manicured nails, not even looking up to see that you'd taken his breath away.

there were a lot more of these instances than he cared to admit. he was a proud, prideful kind of guy, often convinced that it was his way or the highway.

until you came around.

he'd started a list on his phone, of some of those times, cementing them into a vault of your history. maybe he'd show it to you on your wedding or something cheesy like that, that he knew you would love. or maybe he'd keep it to himself, as to not humble himself further.

when you'd called a car's failing engine a "tummy ache", and that was how he figured out that the cause was the owner putting in the wrong gas.

the first time you talked him into trying on your panties, and he'd tried to deny it heavily, and you'd said, "it's just clothes." and it was so simple but he'd never thought of it like that. like holy shit, yeah, it's just clothes.

when you'd tried to hook up with him at his work, in the backseat of his car no less, and dean desperately tried to keep some semblance of professionalism at his job, and you were like "who's gonna see? no one comes here." and he proceeded to fuck you into the leather with, you guessed it; not a single customer to see the fogged windows and the rattling frame.

you got him to start saying things are cunty and that's not even the humbling part. the fact that he could not fucking stop himself from calling everything cunty when you were around was.

when you'd called the stars "little suns" and now every time he looks at the night sky, he can't help but think if you're looking at the little suns too.

he'd been staying late trying to finish a car and you'd gotten upset and told him "who's gonna need their car this late?" and yeah. who the hell was? he made it home in five minutes and made up for his time away.

he told you that one day he'd take you to meet his family and you called them the witch burners with the straightest face he'd ever seen. yeah. they did do that sometimes. but don't say that to their face.

sometimes his old habits would kick in and he'd start doing everything for you, like he did growing up with sammy, and you remind him every time that you were his baby but not his baby.

he joked that you were baby vers. 2, and you'd said, "you can't call everything you park yourself in baby." he started calling you princess immediately after.

he'd grabbed your hair once when you were bent over during sex and you whirled around so fast he honestly thought you were going to kill him. like there was more fear in his eyes then than there was in some of the hunts he did before he retired.

when you insisted in front of his coworkers that, no, you did not want to drive your car if he was there to tote you around already. like, fuck him, honestly, for not assuming you would want to be chauffeured. he was still living that shit down.

"no, dean, i'm not blowing you right now, this is a chanel lip gloss." right. because he was supposed to know what that meant. "i am not wiping chanel off with a paper towel, dean." tell chanel to get off her fucking high horse, thanks!

he tried to be romantic once and put his hand on your thigh while driving and you glanced down with a pout and said, "your filthy oil hands :(" with that exact sad face. he didn't know how else to convey the utter devastation in his typed list without the fucking emoticon. you'd have thought he ran over your baby or something.

notes, guys ... i fear they are rent free rn. something ab grumpy/sunshine in any form is going to do it for me every time.

tags ( if some of these dont work im gonna run up and down the street butt naked on god ) @titsout4nicholas @deans-yn @dipperscavern @devoursweetly @jasvtsc @panickedbitch @t3l3vangelism @jensenacklesfan69 @manicjk @mkendlic @hischrrypie @deanswidow @figthoughts

[seventeenficsformalereader]

Wonwoo NSFW ABC's

REMINDER THAT ALL OF THIS IS FICTION! NONE OF THIS IS REAL OR REPRESENT THE REAL PERSON IN ANY WAYS WHATSOEVER‼️

Aftercare - How and how much

Wonwoo seems like a very caring type. He would gently clean up everything and maybe even change the sheets if you were too messy. Will give you cuddles afterwards, no questions asked.

Body parts - Fav body part on himself and his partner

Wonwoo likes his hands the most. He loves making you moan and cum with only his hands. Just watching your face as he fingers your hole is enough to make him reach his high, too

On your body, he loves your stomach area. Whether you're chubby, skinny, you have marks or anything like that, he absolutely adores your stomach area. It's also his favorite place to leave hickeys on.

Cum - Where, How, etc.

Like I said, Wonwoo loves your stomach area. That's why he usually likes to pull out and cum on your stomach. He might sometimes also finish inside of you if you ask him to.

Dirty Secret

Wonwoo once secretly took a video of him fucking you from behind and he keeps it in his phone buried so deep inside his gallery that no one could find it. He watches it sometimes to get himself off.

Experience

Wonwoo is the quiet guy, so I think back in high school he didn't get that much action. He probably had your first time with you and he was really nervous. Like REALLY nervous. But he wanted to make you feel good. And he did.

Favorite Position

Wonwoo loves missionary position the most. Mostly because it's easier to cum on your stomach, but also because he can look at your face as he pleasures you. There's nothing better than having your legs spread wide and on his shoulders as he rails into you at an animalistic pace.

Goofy - How serious or goofy is he during sex

Wonwoo is really serious during sex. It's a pretty new concept for him and he holds it as a important thing in his life. That's why he barely teases or jokes during it. He also might get embarrassed talking about it afterwards.

Hair - How groomed is he

Wonwoo doesn't bother shaving down there, but he does it occasionally. He just doesn't see the point since he's not the one who loves recieving oral so much. He would prefer you to keep it pretty clean down there though, because he likes to suck you more.

Intimacy - Is he romantic or rough, etc.

Wonwoo is a bit of both. If he's at a time in his life where he's not stressed, he can be really romantic and pleasure you in every way possible so gently that it makes you cry. But if he's stressed out or has a lot of pent up anger in him, he can and will take it out on you (only if you allow him to, which you usually do. You can't say no to rough sex once in a while)

Jack off - How often does he do so

Wonwoo didn't jerk off before he started dating you. He just didn't see the appeal of it. But after his first time with you, he realized that he probably needs go do it once in a while. He just sometimes can't keep his thoughts away from you and your body and can't help but get hard at the thought of it. Usually just jerks off while looking at the secret video he has of you or just looks at your nudes or just pictures of you.

Kink - What kinks does he have

Wonwoo isn't a super kinky guy, but he might have a few.

Wonwoo seems like the type of guy to like breath play. Something about restricting you from breathing occasionally by wrapping a hand around your neck while he fucks you deeply is what makes him want to continue even more. And the noises you make are so lovely, he wants to hear those more. He loves to hit all the right spots to make the most sounds out of you.

Location - Favorite place

Wonwoo prefers the bed. In his own bedroom. That's where he feels like he won't be interrupted and be embarrassed with someone catching him and his partner in the act.

Motivation - Turn ons

Again, Wonwoo loves the sounds you make. You sound so pretty maoning his name under him. And covering you in his cum is just a must every time. When he sees your body glistening under the dim lights of his room because of his cum, it makes him want to go for another round always.

No - Turn offs or things he wouldn't do or be into

He wouldn't like leaving the bedroom. Having sex anywhere else where someone might catch you is a no go for him. He's a pretty jealous guy when he's with you, and wouldn't want anyone else seeing your body the way he does. Sometimes he joins you in the shower, but only if he's sure that absolutely no one else can get in when you aren't wearing any clothes.

Oral - preferences on it

Wonwoo loves to give you head. He isn't a fan of recieving it.

Pace - How fast or rough during sex

Like I said before, Wonwoo can be slow and gentle, but he can also be very rough and merciless with you. It depends on his mood, and if you are willing to let him be rough. But even when he is rough, he's still constantly checking up on you. If he goes too fast that makes you cry out, he immediately stops and asks if you are okay. Once you reassure him that you're okay, he continues with his fast pace.

Quickie - His thoughts on quickies

Wonwoo prefers to take his time with you, and he usually isn't THAT needy, but if you are, he understands and takes you to a secluded area where there's a little to none chance that someone catches you. He's willing to move out of his comfort zone and fuck you in semi public if you are too needy

Risk - How risky is he

Like mentioned, he doesn't like having sex in public. He prefers his own bedroom or someplace else where no one can catch you.

Stamina - How long can he last, How many rounds

Wonwoo is used to dancing for many hours so he has a pretty good stamina. He can go for rounds, making you cum many times in the process and watching your body get covered in cum.

Toys - Use or Own any

Wonwoo doesn't like to use toys since he wants you all to himself. Except might put an anal plug on you sometimes just to remind you who you belong to.

Unfair - How much does he tease

Wonwoo is a very serious guy. He doesn't tease you a lot, but he might show his weird side for you sometimes, maybe during sex but also just because he can.

Volume - Volume during sex

Wonwoo might let out a few moans if he's close or if he goes many rounds. But usually just gets embarrassed and tries to keep his voice more quiet to hear you better.

Wild card

Wonwoo absolutely loves you riding him. Sometimes he's horny but too lazy to do anything so he makes you do all the work and let you ride him until your legs give out.

He's also pretty freaky with hickeys. Especially on your stomach area. He loves to leave hickeys there so he knows you are his even when no one else sees it. Bonus if you wear a a shirt that exposes your stomach and the hickeys are visible for everyone. He secretly enjoys it.

X-ray - Lenght, Girth, Curve

Wonwoo is a quiet kid. Need I say more? Everything about this man is so big dick energy and he definitely has one.

Yearning - Sex drive, horniness

Wonwoo has a high sex drive. When he's alone with you even for a bit, he will not keep his hands off of you. Whether it's giving you hickeys, touching your thighs, pushing his fingers inside you, grinding against you, or making you ride him.

Zzz - How fast does he fall asleep

Wonwoo is pretty sleepy after being satisfied. He cleans up the mess and falls asleep almost immediately once he has you in his arms.

[venomhound]

Hazbin Hotel - Morning Routines

Kind of a part 2 to the Sleeping Habits Post??? While that one is about falling asleep with them, this one is about what its like to wake up with them. Same lineup; Alastor, Vox, and Lucifer. I... also might have accidentally started a Charlie one so I might be doing more parts to these (｡ŏ_ŏ)

Contents/WARNINGS: Gender neutral reader; NSFW in Vox's section; mostly just nuclear powered fluff; somebody PLEASE get Lucifer a doctor the man is so depressed (18+), MDNI, NSFW below the cut ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

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Alastor ₊˚ ‿︵୨୧

As gone over in my sleeping habits post, Alastor does not like sharing a bed normally. But if it does happen to be a blue moon and he actually stayed the whole night; it is a sight to behold in the morning.

Alastor's hair is naturally curly. Due to internalized racism (from you know, the 1920s), Alastor insists his hair must be straight and has a crazy hair routine to keep it that way. One of many reasons why his hair is so... gnarly looking.

Right after he wakes up in the mornings though, his bedhead breaks through the illusion. You get to see the glorious sight of Alastor's hair attempting to go back to its natural form. The edges of his locks are making small loops in all directions, and his face is framed in loose ringlets.

Unfortunately, this only lasts for about ten minutes at most before he goes to "fix" it.

Other then getting to see that beautiful sight, the mornings are the same regardless of if he stayed in the bed with you or not; You always get to wake up to his wonderful cooking.

Alastor has unfortunately had to take it upon himself to be the hotel chef. Charlie did try to do it for a little bit, but that resulted in more fires and ambiguous remains then anything. Vaggie and Husk can barely operate a microwave. Nifty is well... Nifty.

So Alastor pops into the hotel kitchen at around 7am to start cooking breakfast for the hotel. More 7:30 if his hair has been particularly unruly that day.

Alastor pokes fun at everyone over being their chef, but he really likes it actually. He will never admit that to anyone though. He finds the mornings relaxing because he gets to just cook, something that he enjoys and thats deeply nostalgic for him. It starts him off on the right foot for the day.

The only times it starts him on the wrong foot, is when Lucifer decides to get up at an ungodly hour (or straight up pull an all nighter), just so he can steal the kitchen and make the hotel breakfast instead.

Lucifer does this because he thinks he is a better chef then Alastor. Surely, Alastor's annoyance is proof of that! But Alastor is actually pissed off because his plans for the morning got set on fire by Lucifer's dumb ego.

Alastor really does go above and beyond as the chef by the way. For a cannibal, you would never expect how respectful he is of everyone's dietary preferences. If your a vegetarian, or even a vegan, Alastor won't blow you off. He will make something for everyone that still works for you, or just make you something special. He sees it less as you having a dietary restriction and more as a challenge of his skills.

Anyways, thanks to Alastor, mornings at the hotel are always extremely nice. Everyone comes down to eat together, hang out, and just be. Its a tranquil time and atmosphere that he has taken great care to cultivate. Sets him up perfectly mentally for his afternoon radio shows.

✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿‿✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿‿✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿

Vox ₊˚ ‿︵୨୧

Vox always wakes up with a big sigh. He is very much that type of person whose first thought when waking up is, 'goddamn it, I woke up'. Hates leaving the bed but knows he has to.

At least Vox stops having those thoughts when you become apart of his life.

If your still in the bed when he wakes up, Vox is immediately comforted by your weight on his chest. He cant help but smile as his arms tighten around you. One of Vox's hands starts absentmindedly carding through your hair as he goes over everything he has to do that day in his head.

If your not in the bed when Vox wakes up, it completely fucks with his mind. His sleeping body does not register you moving or getting up at all. So from Vox's perspective, you were in his arms one second then... not. Vox will wake up to you not there and be super confused. He will legit start looking for you like a puppy.

Depending on your relationship status with him, Vox might even just assume that he dreamt/hallucinated the whole encounter with you. Only realizing that it actually happened upon outside evidence.

Operating on the assumption that you two are a thing; Vox now tries to keep his mornings flexible because of you. They used to be very regimented. Vox would wake up, get dressed, grab a coffee, then be right out the door to head to work. But now that your here, the mornings are much more relaxed.

When you first move in, Vox's first order of business is to hire a personal chef. Don't get me wrong, Vox loves it when you cook for him. The guy absolutely melts when you do. But the reality is he loves it a little... too much. Which often results in no breakfast actually being had because Vox ends up dragging you back to the bedroom. Of course, that's if he doesn't end up fucking you right on the counter or kitchen table.

Look. Seeing you by the stove in an apron just does something to him, alright?

If you ever even asked Vox if he knew how to cook, the guy would probably bluescreen. The only thing he knows how to ""cook"" is 'takeout'. (image included) If he tried to boil an egg, he would burn the water.

So yeah. Vox takes initiative to get you two a chef. He doesn't want you to have to cook for him anyway; he wants it to be an act of love rather then an obligation. If you push Vox and say you want to cook for him, he will making heart eyes and be ready to marry you on the spot.

Seriously. Make him cute, homemade lunches for work. Vox will brag about them to everyone. Put adorable love notes in there and everything. The guy will be on his knees.

Regardless of who actually made the breakfast, Vox always has it with you. He may be a busy man, but he makes sure this is a time you get him exclusively. Vox lets you know of his schedule for the day (assuming Valentino doesnt set it on fire ofc) and when he plans on being home.

When Vox leaves for work he actually has a genuine smile on his face. Don't get me wrong, he still hates it and cant wait to get back home to you. But Vox doesn't feel that same crushing dread that he did before.

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Lucifer ₊˚ ‿︵୨୧

It used to be so hard to get up for him. It wasn't uncommon for Lucifer to just wallow in bed for an entire day. But now that your here, everything has changed. Lucifer actually has a reason to get up in the mornings again. He used to just go back to sleep and pretend the world doesn't exist.

He is a morningbird by nature, so he often wakes up before you. However, Lucifer hates leaving your arms and the cozy bed. So one of two things happens depending on how he is feeling.

If Lucifer is feeling good, or just particularly lovey that morning; he will pull you extra close to him and start kissing all over you. You'll wake up to the wonderful feeling of fleeting kisses and his smile on your skin. No better way to start the day.

As soon as he notices your awake, Lucifer moves to place quick, chaste kisses all over your face. All while asking, "How are you feeling, Ducky?", "Did you sleep okay?", "Have any fun dreams?".

Lucifer looks at you with the most adoring look in his eyes, desperate to snuggle and feel your skin on his. He wants to listen to you talk about anything and everything.

After awhile of cuddling and pillow talk, you have to be the one to convince Lucifer to get up. He will playfully whine and try to keep you in the bed, but he won't keep it up for long. Lucifer also cant wait to make you a wonderful breakfast and talk more while he cooks too~

Lucifer is a chatterbox when he wants to be. Especially with someone he loves. He basically wants to imbibe your entire being; that includes getting to know every random thought you have and every dark corner of your mind.

But if Lucifer feels the weight of depression weighing him down that morning, he simply snuggles deeper into you when he wakes. His grip on you tightens, and he pulls the sheets tighter around you two. Like he is building a cocoon or trying to shield you both from the outside.

Sometimes you can tell as soon as he wakes up that he is in a bad state. Instead of kisses, you are woken up by the trembling of his small form. Shaking with unshed tears and fresh pain from old wounds.

Lucifer clings to you desperately; the grip of his claws threatening to break your skin. You have to physically force him away from you just so you can look him in the eyes. Even then, Lucifer whimpers and tries to hug you tighter in protest.

He will begin to plead with you. Saying things like "Don't leave me" or "Please stay". You kiss him gently and bring him into your chest as he finally begins to sob. You two stay there for a long time. Lucifer is extra clingy that day. Attached to you at the hip and always holding your hand in his. His heart rate picks up and he starts to get frantic if your fingers slip out of his.

Mornings with Lucifer are overall just very slow. Meandering. Lucifer's safe place has become the bed since the heights of his depression, so he is reluctant to leave it. Some dark part of him feels that the longer he can keep you in bed, the longer he wont have to say an inevitable 'goodbye'.

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FURTHER READING ₊˚ ‿︵୨୧

Its a super silly idea, but I love >>THIS POST<< by @antiheroalastor where you find out Alastor has a extensive skincare routine.

Cute imagine by @voxisdaddy where Vox has to cuddle you to fall asleep can be found >>HERE<<

Then something more spicy, >>HERE<< are some ADORABLE Lucifer aftercare headcanons by @redr0sewrites. Rose writes the rambling, dorky, disaster Lucifer that I have envisioned in my head PERFECTLY.

[sematarygirls]

      BOYFRIEND!RAFE x DEPRESSED!READER

WARNINGS .ᐟ depression, rafe gives reader a bath, but it's not sexual, fluff, the teeniest bit of angst if you squint at the beginning

NOTES .ᐟ this isn't my best work, but i'm writing it more for comfort than anything else, and i wanted to post it just in case anyone out there is also struggling and could use it <3

Something was up, and Rafe could tell. You were usually so clingy, wanting to spend every moment with him, and he was not complaining by any means. He loved having his girl at his side, showing her off at every occasion, but it had been almost two weeks since he last saw you, which was so very out of the ordinary.

You would answer his texts at first, always coming up with some excuse for why you couldn't see him. First, you were sick. He offered to come over and take care of you, but you'd insisted that you didn't want him to catch whatever you had, so he eventually acquiesced and settled on checking in on you periodically.

But then, your responses slowly became more and more infrequent. Rafe was at a loss. Had he done something to upset you? Why were you being so cold and distant? He couldn't think of any fights you two had recently. Everything seemed perfect until you started pulling away out of the blue.

He texted you to tell you he was coming over, but you hadn't seen it by the time he showed up at your house, all but pounding on the door. He was a little angry, very annoyed, and more than a bit jealous. Were you with some other guy in there? Is that why you hadn't been answering him.

Those feelings immediately dissipated, however, when the door slowly creaked open and you peeked out. Your hair was tangled and greasy, haphazardly thrown up and out of the way. You had dark circles under your eyes and a small frown on your face, your brows pinching when you saw him.

His expression softened as he softly murmured your name. You stepped back, allowing him inside, and he shut the door behind him, his eyes never leaving your disheveled form. "Baby, what's wrong?" He asked gently, approaching you like he would a skiddish animal.

"You shouldn't have come," you said quietly, your gaze downcast. You were embarrassed that he was seeing you like this. The whole reason you'd been avoiding him was so he wouldn't see this part of you—the part that struggled to get out of bed whenever a major depressive episode hit.

He ignored your words, stepping closer and tilting your chin up, so he could look at you. "Talk to me, sweetheart," he coaxed softly. "Is this why you've been dodging my calls and texts?"

You nodded slowly, feeling guilty. You hadn't meant to ignore him, but texting people had become a chore as of late. You couldn't bring yourself to do it, to have to explain why you were acting so off. You just wanted to shut out the world and wallow in your misery.

He sighed, his thumbs coming up to caress your cheeks gently. He hated seeing you like this. He wanted to fix it. He wanted to take away all your sorrow and make you happy again. "Why didn't you tell me, baby?"

"I just- I didn't want you to see me like this," you said softly. "I look like shit. It's gross and pathetic..."

"Hey, don't say that shit about yourself, alright?" he said firmly. "You're beautiful, always, and you're not pathetic. You're going through a hard time and that's okay. I'm here for you, baby."

You looked up at him, your eyes glistening with unshed tears at his words. He was so gentle, so understanding and patient. He was perfect, and you were... you.

He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "I'm gonna run you a warm bath, okay? Gonna wash your hair and get you all cleaned up."

"You don't have to do that," you said quietly. You didn't want to be a burden, for him to feel like he had to take care of you just because you were dating.

"I know that, but I want to, alright? Just-Just let me take care of you, yeah?" He stared at you expectantly, waiting until you gave him a reluctant nod before he took your hand and pulled you toward the bathroom. "Sit," he ordered, pointing to the lowered toilet seat.

You complied, sitting and watching him as he turned the water on, testing the temperature with his hand and adjusting it until it was just the way he knew you liked it before he flipped the drain stopper. He poured in some of your favorite scented bubble bath, waiting for the water to fill the tub.

He turned back to you, kneeling down to take your hands in his. "Okay baby, let's get you undressed and in the tub, yeah? I'll wash your hair for you."

You chewed your lip nervously, looking at him with uncertainty. You were hardly in any shape to be perceived by anyone, let alone your perfect boyfriend. You couldnt remember the last time you shaved your body or did any personal grooming for that matter. You'd just been so physically and mentally drained as of late.

He cupped your cheek, gently using his thumb to pull your lower lip from your teeth. He hated when you did that, always saying you were ruining your pretty lips. "You're always gorgeous to me," he reassured you. "I don't care what you look like. Right now, I just wanna take care of my girl, alright?"

You hesitated but nodded. "Okay," you said softly. You knew he was just trying to help, and you also knew you desperately needed your hair washed before it reached the point of no return. You'd hated how bad you'd let it get, but you couldn't bring yourself to even attempt the attention and effort that detangling and washing would entail.

With careful movements, Rafe helped ease your shirt over your head, revealing your bare skin to his gaze. His expression was non judgemental, his touch reverent as he helped you out of your clothes. "You're doing so good, baby," he murmured, his words soothing the nerves that were bubbling in your stomach. "In you go," he said, once you were finally out of your dirty clothes.

You stepped into the warm bath, the hot water and calming smell helping you relax a fraction. You pulled your knees to your chest with a soft sigh. You were so sensitive and vulnerable in that moment, and Rafe's kindness made your chest tighten and your eyes mist.

He smiled softly at you, the picture of a loyal, caring boyfriend. He would do anything for you. "There you go, sweetheart. Gonna feel so much better after a nice long bath." He knelt beside the tub, running his hand over your hunched back soothingly for a few moments.

He let you get adjusted and relaxed before reaching for your hair tie, gently pulling it out and revealing your tangled hair. You closed your eyes, waiting for some remark about how you need to take better care of yourself or how your hair was a mess, but it never came. "Alright baby, let's get this pretty hair washed for you," was all he said, his tone soft and comforting. "Can you lean back for me?"

You nodded, unfurling yourself from your curled up position and leaning back, letting your hair soak up the water. "There you go," he murmured, making sure your hair was thoroughly wetted before helping you sit back up straight. He reached for the conditioner, coating your hair in an ungodly amount and running it through the strands as best he could to help soften your hair and make it easier to detangle before grabbing a wide tooth comb. "This might hurt a little, baby. I'm sorry, but you'll feel so much better when we're all done."

He worked meticulously, starting at the ends and slowly, carefully working out each knot and tangle, murmuring soft apologies whenever he hit a bad one that tugged at your scalp. He had experience with this kind of thing, having helped Wheezie with her hair a lot when she was a kid. He was so gentle and patient, making sure he didn't pull too hard.

It made you grateful because if you were doing this yourself, you already knew you would've gotten frustrated and started practically ripping your hair out as you roughly yanked the comb through your hair until you were in tears.

The fact that he regarded you with a tenderness and compassion you didn't even award yourself made your heart swell with love, but it also made guilt tug at you. This was the man that you'd been ignoring—this man that was so attentive and loved you so much.

"You're doing so good, baby. I know it hurts, but you're being so brave for me. I'm so proud of you," he said gently, continuing to work through your hair. He didn't show any signs that he was getting frustrated or annoyed, he just continued to hold himself with pure adoration and care for you.

His sweet words made tears well up in your eyes. You didn't understand how you could ever deserve someone like him, someone who loved you completely and unconditionally. His words of assurance were something you'd desperately needed to hear after weeks of listening to your own brain demean and demoralize you.

"There we go, sweetheart. All done. You did so well," he praised you gently as he finally finished up, running the comb through the last of the tangles. He helped you lean back, rinsing the conditioner. He made sure to get all the excess product out before helping you sit back up, reaching for the shampoo bottle.

He squirted a generous amount onto his palm, lathering it in his hands and applying it into your scalp. He washed it out and applied more until it started to froth up, signaling that your hair was finally getting clean.

"I'm sorry," you said quietly as he worked the shampoo into your hair, his fingers massaging your scalp in slow, soothing circles. You felt guilty for a lot of things, for ignoring him, for making him spend his time on you like this, for being this way in the first place. Your brain had convinced you that you were a burden on everyone around you, and you hated the thought of Rafe having to put up with you when he could have any other normal girl.

His hands stilled in your hair, and he tiled your head so you were looking at him. His expression was serious, deadly so, and for a moment, you thought he was mad at you. "Don't. Don't you ever apologize, okay? You've got absolutely nothing to be sorry for. You understand me?"

You nodded, his words and actions meaning more to you than he could ever know. He always knew what to say, what to do to make you feel better. He made you feel important and loved, and you needed that, especially right now. "Thank you."

His gaze softened, a gentle smile spreading across his handsome features. "You don't need to thank me, baby. Caring for you is the easiest thing in the world. I just wish you could see yourself through my eyes—so beautiful, inside and out."

After throughly massaging your scalp, he washed out the shampoo, applying a final layer of conditioner to ensure your hair stayed soft and retained moisture. "Do you wanna wash your body, or do you want me to?" He asked gently. He wanted to make sure you were as comfortable as possible, and if you would be too embarrassed with him touching you like that, he respected it.

"I can- um- I can do it," you said quietly. He had already done so much for you already, and as much as you loved being doted on and cared for, it didn't erase the nerves and insecurity that were swirling through your mind.

"Okay, sweetheart. Take your time. I'm right here if you need anything at all," he reassured you. You washed up and rinsed the conditioner out of your hair, the water uncomfortably cold by the time you were done since detangling had taken forever.

Rafe was ready with a towel by the time you were finished. "Come on, baby, let's get you out. You're probably freezing," he said, helping you up and wrapping the towel around you, rubbing the material against your skin to help warm you up before grabbing a separate towel to help you dry off your hair.

You let him take care of you, drying you off before steering you to your bedroom to get dressed. He knew your drawer set up by heart, having helped you put your clean clothes away more than once. "You really don't have to do all that," you mumbled, watching him carefully choose some comfortable, clean clothes for you.

"I already told you that I want to," he said firmly, plucking out your favorite pajamas. "Now, we're gonna get you dressed and settle in on the couch because we gotta get you out of this bed. It's not good for you to stay in it all day," he told you, helping you into your clean clothes. You felt a little silly being assisted getting dressed and undressed, but you were so appreciative that he cared enough about you to help you like this.

"Sorry for the... mess," you said, wincing as you glanced around at your dirty room. It looked like a disaster area, and you only just now seemed to clock how bad it was.

"I already told you to quit apologizing," he gently scolded you. "We can clean it up later, together, but right now, we're going to go watch some TV and get some food in you, okay?"

You nodded, mustering a small smile. "I love you, Rafe," you said, wrapping your arms around his waist and burying your face in his chest.

"I love you too, baby, so so much," he murmured. His strong arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer to him as he rested his chin on the top of your head. You inhaled his scent, a smell that was distinctly his and always seemed to calm and relax you, his tight grip on you serving to ground you in that moment, reminding you that there are people who cherish you even in your darkest days.

tags .ᐟ   @starkeysprincess / @cometmultiverse / @iheartjjmaybnk / @all4l0vee / @kissesfrmriri / @xoxohoneymoongirl / @bradshawed / @fallbhind / @rafeslittleangel / @bakugouswaif

[revelboo]

You have mentioned, I think, a few times of the humans trying to avoid being sick. How would the bots react to their human being sick?

I'm just sick atm, you don't have to do anything if you don't want too

Dealing with the Human Being Sick Headcanons

TFP Soundwave x Reader

• Pausing in his typing when you make a noise he’s never heard, his helm tips toward your tiny frame. A tendril lifting as you curl into a ball, your little frame shaking as you keep making that violent noise. Drawing your knees up to your body as he loops his tendril about you, feeling those wracking sounds. And he’s bending over you, the side of his helm bumping your head. Because as soon as he touches you, that misery comes through loud and clear.

• Blinking up at Soundwave, even with no expression, it’s obvious your coughing is worrying him. “Think I’m getting sick,” you manage and he bumps you again, tendril curling tighter around you. Whatever he was working forgotten as he fusses over you, his other tendril whipping about to find and bring you every one of your blankets, pillows, any soft thing he’s ever gotten you and piling them up around you. Dragging water and food nearby, his helm lifting to look around like he’s trying to find anything else to give you and it’s so sweet, because he obviously isn’t sure what to do, but he’s trying. Settling yourself against the coil of the tendril, you tip your head to press a kiss against him when he tries to bump you with his helm again, feeling him freeze. “Thank you.”

IDW Prowl x Reader

• “Stop acting like a sparkling.” Hooking an arm around you, he drags you into his lap and grits his denta when you smack a palm against his jaw and try to shove him away. Do you have any idea how much energy mass shifting takes? “Behave,” he snarls, arms tightening around you, chin on top of your head until you finally give up and slump into his warmth. The shivering doesn’t stop, though. Servos finding bare skin, it’s a surprise to find you sweaty and much warmer to the touch than normal.

• “It’s a fever, you idiot,” he mutter, too exhausted to keep struggling against him. Why else would you have stripped down to your underclothes when he knows you can’t stand how cold his quarters are? He hadn’t bothered to ask, just frowning down at where you’d sprawled out on your belly, soaking in how cold his berth is against your feverish skin. And he’d dropped a blanket on you, scowling when you’d immediately slung it off and glared up at him. “I’m fine.” Venting against you to stir your hair, he refuses to let you go, practically wrapping himself around you when you’re already sweating and miserable. Like he’s worried and actually cares. Smothering you. “Some soup would be awesome,” you mutter, and it works. He lets you go, mass shifting to go hunt for a can as you snort. Hopefully there’s none in the Ark and you can sleep while he’s busy searching.

TFP Shockwave x Reader

• “Thirteen?” You’re usually awake by now, but you’re still curled up in the corner of your cage, your blanket tangled around your legs. It’s the rasping sound of your breathing that freezes him in reaching for you, because that sound isn’t normal. Almost wet sounding as your eyes open, head turning to stare up at him. Not smiling for him and his servos begin to tremble, the illogical chaos he keeps so carefully locked away, seeping out. Because something is wrong.

• He’s stuck again, unmoving aside from that faint tremor in his servos and the antenna on his helm flicking. You’ve seen it before, but usually he shakes it off. Covering your mouth as a cough shakes you, it’s an effort to sit up when you feel so awful. His one optic is flaring brighter, servos of his hand now flexing in almost spasms. “Shockwave?” Getting to your feet, you reach for him and he pulls away, that cannon powering up and lifting as his antenna go all the way back, head scanning the room like he’s looking for threats. Like he doesn’t know where he is and your breath catches. “Hey, can you get me some water? My throat’s raw,” you call out, trying to break him from whatever this is, because he’s scaring you. And slowly, his optic dims some and he looks down. Coming back to you as the danger passes.

IDW Starscream x Reader

• Fussing over you, his wings flick as he finds another blanket to tuck around you. ���Fragile organics,” he mutters, using scorn to hide how much it upsets him, because he doesn’t know what to do. How to fix this. And you just curl into the nest he’s made you, absently reaching to pat his hand. Like everything is fine. Do you need a medic? Anything he can get you to make this stop? Because he hates feeling useless.

• Squinting up at Starscream as he adjusts your blankets again, you find his fidgeting too sweet, warmth spreading through you that he’s so worried about you. “It’s a cold. I’m fine,” you tell him for the third time, knowing he doesn’t quite believe you as he just vents before scooping you up blankets and all and relocating you to his desk. Apparently intending to sit and watch over you as he props his chin on his fist, optics running over you as he reaches to stroke your hair. So much for resting, but he means well.

IDW Bluestreak x Reader

• “Blue, I’m okay. Really,” you rasp, clinging to his servos as he completely ignores you in his panic, running for medbay with you tangled in the blankets you’d been sleeping in. It doesn’t matter that it’s just a cold, because he apparently thinks you’re going to die on him.

• Cradling you against him, he can feel how hot your skin is and can hear you reassuring him. Knows he needs to calm down, but fear has him by the throat. All those what ifs. Maybe you’re wrong, maybe it’s something dangerous and he might lose you if he doesn’t act right now. And he can’t risk it, needs you. So you’re going to Ratchet, because he needs to be sure you’re okay. You took care of him, now it’s his turn. You have to be okay.

TF Earthspark Megatron x Reader

• He can feel the judgment in Dorothy’s stare as he sits in the modified barn near the air mattress you’re sprawled on. Knows he should have let the Malto’s carry you in the house, but wanted you within sight. Within reach as his servos brush your throat and he watches Dorothy set down a tray with a bowl of soup, firmly telling him that this is the best medicine for a cold. It’s not that he doesn’t believe her, he just hates to see you so miserable, unable to help you.

• Feeling those gentle servos touching your cheek, your hair, you relax. Can hear that deep, rumbling brogue of his as you drift in and out. It’s only a cold, nothing major, but you can’t deny it’s nice to have someone worrying over you, taking care of you. Because it’s been a long time since someone’s worried over you like this, probably since you were a kid.

[ophanstears]

🍀

I know that Clover's gender is up to interpretation (the devs DID say so themselves) but I still feel weird when people make them exclusively male or female LOL Like it's TECHNICALLY fine??? but it leaves a bad taste in my mouth.

more in tags as usual because I am a yapper. i am so sorry for having strong opinions about gender and representation. i am usually more fun than this 🥲🥲🥲🥲