#i was thinking about this all day at work

[wormthe]

[ image description: a screenshot of tags on this post. it has been edited for clarity, and reads as follows:

and don't get me started on drug tests. the hell you care what i do with my body outside of work? it is a worse privacy violation than going through someone's trash and it should be outright banned.

/ end ID ]

genuinely insane to me that our bodies are controlled to the point we "can't" / "aren't supposed to" tweak our hormones levels as we wish

[yanderedrabbles]

Yandere Neighbour - Noncon

With your electricity out and your devices dead, you have no choice but to turn to your neighbour for help. He's more than willing to welcome you into his home. Really, you're lucky he's such a nice guy.

Tags: male yandere x gender neutral reader, noncon, somno, just the tip anal, daddy kink but only if you squint, 3.3k words

Living in the middle of nowhere had its perks. Privacy. Untouched nature. Peace and quiet.

But after the third day with no electricity, those perks were starting to look pretty damn weak. Your fridge was sitting in an ever expanding puddle. Almost all your devices were dead. And if you had to take one more cold shower you were going to cry.

It was when you were digging through your drawer looking for desperately needed batteries that you found your neighbour's number. He'd offered it to you a little while after you moved in, and while you two were on friendly terms, you'd never actually spoken for longer than a few minutes. You sighed, looked at the 10% left on your phone and decided that desperate times called for desperate measures.

You: hey, it's me. I still haven't got any power. Do you mind if I come over to charge some stuff?

He replied almost instantly.

Unknown: aww that sucks

Unknown: come on over. I've got hot stew and a generator

Unknown: and you can take a hot shower too if you want

Score. And to think you found him intimidating at first. Just goes to show that you can't judge on appearances. You packed a change of clothes, your devices and the last tub of ice cream that wasn't totally melted. You'd find some way to properly pay him back but a tub of chocolate fudge double cream wasn't a bad way to start.

He was waiting on his porch when you pulled up. A bear of a man in a flannel and blue jeans, a five o' clock shadow darkening his jaw.

"Howdy neighbour," he drawled, opening your door for you while you grabbed your stuff. "Regretting leaving the city yet?"

You huffed a laugh. "You do NOT want to know the answer to that."

His cabin was much larger than yours, a two storey behemoth with wide windows and exposed beams. It had a rustic charm - like some natural park Air BnB where they charged a weeks pay for just one night. A little too big for just one man. Didn't he get lonely?

"I brought some ice cream and chocolate to say thank you. And also because it miiight have been melting."

He opened the door for you and ushered you through with a hand on your lower back.

"Hell, I'll never say no to something sweet."

There was a fire burning in the fireplace and a stack of logs in a crate next to it. He was so much better suited to this life than you were. He locked the door behind you and slipped the keys into his pocket.

"Old habit," he explained with an easy grin.

"Why don't you get settled? I'll plug your stuff in."

You handed over your tech with a relieved sigh.

"Thank you. Really. I'm so behind on work already and I haven't heard anything back from the power company."

"I wouldn't hold my breath," he said. "Once ended up going a week straight with not even a light bulb flickering."

You winced. "It gets that bad?"

"Yep. Especially in winter. Gets dangerous then too."

He tilted his head at you, concerned. "You need to get yourself better sorted before it starts snowing. I hate to think of you stuck out there when the blizzards start rolling in."

God, could you be any more of a city slicker? You rubbed your neck, embarrassed.

"Thanks. I've been here a few months now and I guess I just didn't realise how serious things can get."

"It's all good. But if I'm honest, I get worried thinking about you out there all alone. Plenty of drifters end up passing through. Not a good place to be alone, not for a little thing like yourself."

Little? You wanted to feel indignant, but looking at his bulk, you reckoned that most folk probably seemed little to him.

He lead you to the fireplace and poured you a mug of coffee from the pot that was waiting for you. He jerked his head at the hunting rifle on display above the mantle.

"I can teach you to shoot, if you've got some free time."

You took a sip of the coffee, internally debating with yourself. You could see the sense in your offer but you weren't a big fan of guns. Hell, just being around them was nerve wrecking enough. Maybe -

You looked down at your mug in surprise.

"This is some really good stuff."

The coffee was strong, bitter in the best sort of way. You could catch a hint of chocolate in it too. Just sweet enough to make your toes curl.

" 'Course. Only the best for my guest. Help yourself to another cup. I'll just put your stuff on charge and be right back."

You finished your drink in a few sips and happily poured a second serving. Hot coffee... man, you didn't think three days without it would be so tough. Usually, you were pretty sensitive to caffeine. But by the time your neighbour came back, your head was tilted back and you were half asleep.

You tried to shake yourself out of it but he just laughed and pushed you back down.

"You probably haven't had a good sleep since the power went out. Just rest. We can talk once you wake up."

"I'm sorry..."

"It's fine." His hand was still on your shoulder, thumb rubbing small circles into your neck. "It's just fine with me."

You drifted off after that. Into a deep sleep without any dreams. Waking up was like slogging through molasses.

"Finally up sleepy head?"

It was dark outside and your neighbour was on one knee in front of the fire place, coaxing fresh wood to catch.

You sat up slowly. Your muscles ached and there was a strange, salty taste on your tongue.

"My heads killing me..."

He stood, poker still in his hand. "You must be starving then. I've already got some food on the stove. You'll feel better after you eat."

You didn't feel hungry at all. If anything, you felt almost hangover.

"Thanks," you managed. "I'm sorry to be such a bother."

He waved you away. "I don't mind a bit."

He came back with a bowl of steaming hot chow and stood with his arms crossed on the back of your couch while you ate.

"It's real late. I reckon you should stay over. I don't want you driving on dirt when it's so dark."

"Oh, it's fine. I've already put you out so much."

"Don't be silly. I insist."

You shivered without meaning to. That almost growl, low and bordering on menacing. It was so familiar, so...

"Just like that. Look at you, half asleep and still desperate for my cock."

"You like the taste? Yeah, I bet you fucking do."

"Ain't just gonna use your mouth next time."

You squeezed your eyes shut. Where the hell was this coming from? Were you remembering some sick dream from this afternoon?

"You okay there neighbour?"

You nodded. "Just my head."

Maybe he was right. Driving when you were so disorientated was just asking for trouble.

"If you really don't mind... I'll be happy to sleep over."

He laughed, a deep, rumbling thing. "I'll make the guest room up special, just for you."

"Could I use your shower too?"

"I offered didn't I? Come on, I'll show you where it is."

He took you to the master bedroom and jerked his thumb at the en-suite.

"Hot water is the most reliable in there. Door doesn't close that well though, so don't mind it. I'll be downstairs when you're done."

You brushed your teeth carefully. You lips felt sore, bruised in a way you couldn't explain.

You waited until you heard his footsteps going down the stairs before you stripped off your clothes. You stood under the hot water for a good few minutes, luxuriating in the feeling. The bathroom was thick with steam when you finally got to scrubbing yourself. The door was open just a crack and the bedroom beyond was dark. You forgot all about it until you heard the creak of the hinges.

You whirled to face the door, your hands coming up to cover yourself. The steam was too thick to see through. You called his name.

Nothing.

You stepped out with suds still on your thighs and pushed the door open. The room beyond was empty.

You sighed. God, you were being paranoid. Your neighbour was a great guy. It was unfair of you to treat him like a peeping tom when he'd gone out of his way to make you comfortable. It must have been just an errant draught.

You stepped back into the shower and rinsed yourself off. But no matter what you told yourself, you still kept an eye on the door.

When you went to change into your fresh clothes, you spent at least five minutes hunting for your underwear. Did you drop it somewhere? Oh, please say your undies weren't just sitting in the middle of his hallway. That would be beyond embarrassing.

Eventually you gave up and just decided to go without them. Not comfortable at all but still better than walking around in a towel to look for them. And much better than calling your neighbour in to help. Wouldn't that be fun? 'Hey neighbour that I don't know that well, you haven't seen my intimates lying around, have you?' Yeah, you'd never again get invited over after something like that.

When you were dressed, you found him already on his way up the hall. He was carrying a glass of water and some pills.

"Thought you might still have a headache, so I brought you some painkillers."

You paused, nervous but not sure why.

"Thanks." His hands dwarfed yours when he handed them over. You didn't recognise the name of on the pills, but they looked harmless. You tossed them back and gagged at the bitter aftertaste.

"They pack a punch, so tell me when you start to get drowsy."

"Aye aye captain."

You followed him to the guest room. It was at the very back on the second story, quieter than the rest of the house. A huge glass wall gave you a view of the forest disappearing into the darkness. You could see the ghost of your reflection in the glass, your neighbour a hulking, shapeless mass at your shoulder.

He took a seat in an armchair across form the bed and stretched out his legs. You perched on the edge of the mattress, still feeling a bit like an intruder.

"How long have you been staying out here?” you asked.

He smiled at you, teeth glinting almost wolf-like. "Got you curious?"

"A little. Folk in town say they hardly see you. I don't know... I'm just wondering if you ever get lonely."

He was quiet and you cursed yourself for being so nosy. You hurried to fill the silence.

"It's just that I get a bit lonely out here too. 'Specially when it's so quiet. And I guess I was wondering if it's the same for you."

He smiled at you, rueful. "At times. Used to be worse, but I've got a new interest to keep me occupied nowadays."

"Oh yeah? What?"

"Bird watching."

"Really? What do you look for?"

The way the room was lit up, you couldn't see his eyes. They fell into shadow and you only had his lips to read his emotions by. He smirked, slow and almost mocking.

"Just one bird I look out for. Flighty little thing. Tends to get caught by predators a lot. You’d probably recognise it."

The polite thing to do would be to ask what it was called. You didn't. Some part of whispered that you wouldn't like the answer.

You must have been quiet a little too long because he took it as his cue to leave. He stood, a mountain of muscle, his eyes not quite as nice as they seemed that afternoon. A trick of the light, surely. He wouldn't hurt a fly.

"You rest up. Got a busy day tomorrow."

"G'night."

He was gone before you thought to ask what he meant. And you were passed out on your pillows before you realised it. He was right. The pills sure did pack one hell of a punch.

You were aware of a shadow at the end of your bed. You weren't fully awake, and your limbs were slow and heavy with more than just sleep.

"Who..."

The shadow reached down and one warm paw circled your ankle.

"Just me little bird."

You knew that voice. It was the voice that brought you warm food and invited you in from the cold. You could trust it. Could go back to sleep and not worry about anything.

'No,' some part of you hissed, 'He's not as safe as you think.'

"Cold..."

The shadow laughed and it was the laugh of the fox finding the rabbit's den. Nasty. Hungry.

"Cold huh? Don't worry baby. I'll warm you right up."

He yanked your ankle towards him and your whole body slid down the bed. You were too drowsy to stop it.

"Knew you were gonna be mine the second I saw you," he cooed, hands running up your thighs.

His fingers slipped under your waistband, nails scraping your hip bones.

"Dumb little thing from the city. Doesn't even realise I've tripped all their breakers. That's why you don't have power baby. It's all me."

His fingers were as big as the rest of him. Thick, meaty. Skin rough from working outdoors. You whined when his fingertips scraped the edges of your hole.

"No underwear. You needy slut. That's practically a written and signed invitation to fuck you."

He pulled your pants down to your ankles and pushed your knees up to your stomach. And you were too out of it to stop him. Limp and pliable as a fuck doll.

Your tight ass was exposed to the cold air, entirely at the mercy of whatever he wanted to do.

"Cute." He circled his thumb around the rim, almost pushing in but not quite. "Wanted to be in this ass since you first showed up at my door all those months ago. Lookin' up at me all sweet. Fuck, it's enough to drive a man to desperation."

He lowered his head and you could feel his warm breath washing over your thighs.

He dragged his tongue across your hole. Some part of you must have been more awake than the rest, because your whole body jerked away from him.

"None of that," he cooed, hands digging into your thighs and dragging you back. "I haven't even gotten started yet."

He licked you again, deeper this time. The flexed tip of his tongue pushing at your entrance, and to your dull horror, actually slipping in. He moaned and you could feel the vibrations all through your crotch.

He pulled out and spat, rubbed it in with his fingers. One of them pushed in until the second joint, curling into your walls so rough that you gasped.

"Please..."

"Please what?" he mocked. "Please fuck my tight little ass? Please cum inside me? Use your words little bird."

"Please...stop..."

That made him laugh again, made him shove his finger in all the way to the knuckle. Twisting so cruelly as he pulled out and jerked back in.

"Stop? Stop? After all the work it took to get you here? No way baby. I'm not slowing down and I'm sure as fuck not stopping."

You heard the sound of his belt unbuckling, followed by a sharp intake of breath when he nudged his leaking head against your hole.

"You’re not going to remember this. And I'm not going to leave any evidence."

He pushed your legs tighter against your chest.

"So as much as I want to fuck you rotten, you're gonna have to be happy with just the tip."

He'd done a good job loosening and lubing you, but it still burned like a hot poker when he forced his way in. He groaned, almost in pain.

"You're fucking choking me. God, do you want my cum so bad?"

You could feel when the tip was in. That tiny difference in thickness between his head and shaft was oh so noticeable when your ass was clenching and fluttering around it. It was the smallest mercy, but mercy nonetheless.

He was panting from the effort of getting it in, the effort of holding back. The size difference between you almost perverse. Like a draft stallion trying to mount a pony. In every way, he was just too fucking big.

He spat in his hand and brought it to his cock, ran his palm up and down his shaft with sickly wet strokes. The combination of his palm and your squeezing ass was fucking delicious.

He had great stamina but fuck if it didn't feel like you were milking him.

He let go long enough to smack your ass. It almost finished him. You clenched around him so hard it felt like his tip was getting fucking crushed.

"Shiiiit, you're the best hole I've ever had. Can't wait 'til I can go all the way."

You whined, pitiful as snared prey. There were words there, though they were too slurred to make out. Something about Daddy and please and stop. He ignored you.

He pushed in a little deeper and watched your face scrunching up. So helpless, so fucking caught. That was what did it. The knowledge that he could do this to you at any point and you'd be helpless to stop it.

He came inside you, snarling through clenched teeth, his fingers digging into your thigh hard enough to bruise. You'd notice the marks in the morning and chalk it up to just being clumsy. But he'd know. He'd see the bruises peeking out from the hem of your shorts and his cock would twitch just a little at the memory of leaving them.

His cock pulsed. Shot strings of spunk deep inside you. You could feel it. Hot, too hot. Gross. Make it stop. Get it out.

He pulled out with a wet pop. His cum drooled down and he took a minute to work it back into you with his finger. Your hole was gaping just a little and it made his balls pulse. If he had the time...

"A real fucking mess. And on my good sheets too. You're a terrible guest."

He mopped up whatever cum remained with a balled up piece of martial that he pulled from his pocket. Even in you stupor, you recognised it as your missing underwear.

"Terrible guest, but the perks of having you around are pretty fucking sweet."

He dropped your knees back to the mattress, pulled your pants back into place and roughly yanked the duvet over you. He grabbed your jaw and smiled at the lost, drowsy look in your half open eyes.

"Got a big day tomorrow. Gonna wake up and find your whole house was flooded. Ruined. Gonna have nowhere to stay but with me."

He sounded smug. It made your guts twist.

Outside, the night grew quiet. A predator was hunting and most prey knew better than to catch its attention.

"I made sure of it. All your family and friends in the city are away from home. There's no one around to help you out..."

He tightened his grip just enough to watch the fear start dancing in your eyes.

"No one...except me."

He let you go and smiled that same warm, comforting smile from that afternoon.

"Dumb little thing. Got no clue how your water mains work, do you? Got no idea how easy they are to sabotage."

He tutted. "Got me so damn busy. I'm gonna have to run to your place, fuck shit up and be back here before you wake up for real."

He traced his index finger over your lips and left behind a sticky coating of spunk. You'd wake up tasting salt again, with no memory of why.

"But it's fine. I forgive you. After today we'll have plenty of time together. Rest of our lives in fact. So just sleep tight and forget what you think you've dreamed."

There are perks to living in the middle nowhere. Privacy. Untouched nature. Peace and quiet.

There are perks, but unfortunately for you, your neighbour isn't one of them.

[goatgoesmbe]

tw : sexual theme, stalking, 141 being a creep

A series : part 2 of Discord shenanigans

AO3

Word count: 2031

rated: E

Poly!141 x f!reader

The New Member

The server wasn’t meant for public in the first place.

It was just something quick Johnny made just to have a little corner to hang out when they were on leave.

They rarely used it at first, finding no reason to communicate outside of work, they were busy with their own life anyway.

That was, until Johnny started sending pictures of literally anything in his daily life. It started with scenery, dogs he saw during walks, and selfies. Soon enough, Simon joined in with his own blurry pictures, then Kyle’s award-worthy photography, and John who sent the most normal pictures of some nice views worth sharing.

Eventually, interacting through the server became so regular that they started using it when they got back on base too– They never talk about something confidential in it of course, they were still professionals after all.

The gaming session was Kyle’s idea (Well, actually it was Johnny but he couldn’t convince them to play among us), they started playing various FPS games before settling for the popular one.

Kyle played casually, Johnny played competitively (and sucked at it compared to the others), John played it rarely but was pretty decent at it, while Simon was effortlessly good at it (Which he was so smug about).

The members consisted of people they knew from their jobs, so imagine their surprise when there was a notification about a new member.

You.

They welcomed you in a friendly manner, showing no suspicion despite John telling Kyle to do a background check immediately. And oh do they like what they see.

Pretty thing that you are, messy hair, pouty lips, dark bags under your eyes that only made you look more adorable rather than off-putting, like a sleepy panda. You always wore comfortable clothes oversized shirts or hoodies on colder days while your legs were bare, sitting crosslegged in your gaming chair with a big plushie in your lap. Johnny wondered if you wore anything underneath which made them go silent. made them think.

Fuck.

It was illegal and immoral, but really– everything they had ever done was all of those things and more, so what’s a bit of hacking into the webcam of a bonnie thing like you? It was done for their own safety after all, keeping their secrets as members of a highly classified military task force. It was only normal for them to check for any individuals that got into their space. Just in case.

Sure, they could just drop it when they found out that you were just a harmless civilian, but they also learned that you were just a sweet thing.. they immediately took a liking to you, adored you, so of course they had to keep an eye on you because they wanted to make sure you were alright. Keeping a civilians safe was part of their job, right?

You live alone, which made sense as to why you have CCTVs around your place. Smart girl, looking after your security seriously. Adorable.

Was it creepy for them to have access to those CCTVs? They just cared about your safety is all, was it wrong?

Well, they didn’t really care if it was, they were in too deep already, addicted to watching you in your own world, from your pretty face looking adorable as you focused on the game you were playing, the chime of your giggle when Johnny sent something stupid, to the way those innocent eyes showed no suspicion when one of them slipped up.

“Not as bonnie as you ;)” Johnny sent one time.

“You don’t even know what i look like XD”

Fortunately, you were oblivious. But still, they need to be more careful in the future. Johnny had a limp the next day and his body was covered in marks that peeked from the t-shirt he wore. But from how he barely covered them and how he still had that smirk on his face, it looked like he would definitely do it again if it would have John sending Simon to punish him.

Watching you had become a group routine. When they weren’t in the same room, they just hopped on the hidden channel Johnny made just to ping each other whenever you were doing something that would pique their interest.

Kyle enjoyed watching you go about with your routine, waking up at noon, cooking up something simple for yourself before you lock into your PC to do your freelance job then hopped into video games. His favorite was when you did your skincare, hand went down to cup the bulge in his pants as he watched you putting on lotion all over your body. His eyes darkened at the thought of him doing it instead, sliding his hand up your legs, lathering them nicely, and perhaps sneaking an opportunity for a feel of your clothed pussy when he reached your inner thighs.

Johnny likes to watch your reaction whenever you two interact, relishing your flustered expression from his relentless flirting. He wondered if you would also be shy under him, squirming as you tried to hide your face while he took off your clothes. He would click his tongue as he pried your hands off your face and gripped both of your wrists in one hand before pinning them above your head, one knee lodged between your legs to prevent you from closing them.

John’s favorite part of your day was when you were working. Tongue peeking out slightly in concentration, your doe eyes shifted and looked sharper when you were focused. He was there when you were in an online meeting with your employer, even though noone noticed. As he watched you talk, he liked to imagine that you were working for him instead. Talking formally unlike how you usually were when you were talking to them, he imagined you calling him sir like how you called your current boss. The bastard that made you uncomfortable with the way he leered at you, making innuendos while you tried your best to keep the conversation professional. You poor thing, don’t worry, John will teach him a lesson or two about respecting you. And yes, he was a hypocrite since he was lazily pumping his shaft under the desk as he watched you doing your job.

Simon rarely said anything about it, but out of everyone in the server, he was a constant presence with how the view count never went below one. He wasn’t picky, he liked watching you doing anything, even when you were just sleeping, he’d fuck his fist messily at the view of you being so vulnerable and oblivious before shooting his cum all over the screen with your face displayed on it. He was the one who would ping the others to notify them when you were doing something he knew they would be interested in.

Like right now.

It had been a long week, you barely had time to do your hobby. Projects after project that got you awake until two am before a quick wink of rest until you had to wake up again at five. When you were looking forward to doing something fun but then finding yourself too tired to even play your favorite game. And then you’d feel bad for neglecting your hobby as you continued to be enslaved under capitalism.

You were tired, sleep-deprived, stressed, and pent-up. At times like this, you were glad that you worked from home. You couldn’t imagine yourself not snapping at people if you work in an office with coworkers. Couldn’t even find the energy to open the server these past few days since you didn’t want to interact with anyone.

So naturally, they would miss you. Naturally, they were very excited when Simon pinged all of them in the hidden channel.

The light in your room was dimmed, but they could see your figure just fine. Panting on the bed on your back, legs spread wide with your hand between them while your other hand was clutching a pillow which you use to hide your face. 

John growled, fingers twitching as he thought of taking it off you so he could see what kind of expression you were making. Instead, he gripped Kyle’s dick as the younger man rolled his hips with the Captain bottoming out in his ass as they were both settled on the couch.

Johnny pulled away from Simon’s cock with a lewd pop. “She could fit mair than that..” he panted before Simon shoved his dick back in the scot’s mouth, gloved hand gripping at his mohawk.

His words got them zeroed in on your cunt which was stuffed with your fingers deep to your knuckles. Wet squelching noises combined with your needy whines echoed around the rec room from the cheap speakers as the stream was displayed on the wall from the projector. Johnny was right, you could take more than that. And from the way you desperately bucked your hips as you moved your fingers that fast, they could tell that you wanted to take more either.

“Does she not have a fucking toy?” Kyle groaned as he jacked off with the same tempo as your fingers as he continued to move in John’s lap.

“No” Simon responded curtly. He would know, he was the one who always kept an eye on you more than anyone else after all.

He knew you didn’t have a partner and never brought anyone home. You rarely go out and when you do, you’ll be back soon enough. A quick trip to the grocery stores or some shops, as shown by the trackers he put in your phone. Low possibility of you seeking out to anyone. Perhaps it was odd for some people but he wasn’t complaining, because he was only willing to share you with the men he trusted his life with.

You rarely pleasure yourself either, which made a moment like this more special. At first, he expected you to whimper out someone’s name, a crush they didn’t know about perhaps. Fortunately, that never happened. You seem content with yourself like this, eyes closed as you focus on the way you curl your fingers and grind your palm against your clit.

But they could tell you wanted more. They agreed that you deserved more. They could give you more.

Your whole body tensed, a shudder rippled through your body as heat built in waves. Breath hitching as you gasped, soft at first before breaking into a moan, raw and unrestrained. Fingers clutching at your pillow, muscles tightening as pleasure peaked, your back arching instinctively.

A flush spread across your skin, a sheen of sweat caught the light. Eyes fluttered to a close, lips parted, as a final tremor coursed through your body before you melted into the afterglow, breathless and trembling.

Yet, your cunt still clenched around your fingers as you pulled them out, like it didn’t want to let them go, because you still wanted more. You whined, and they groaned at the expression on your face. Unsatisfied, but too tired to do anything about it.

After a moment of gathering your jumbled mind, you got up and headed to the bathroom for a shower. And while they knew it was impossible, they wished you had a camera there too.

As the men chased their own pleasures, they thought to themselves about how they could help. You were physically nowhere near them at the moment, and they didn’t want to scare you by being too upfront in the server. Didn’t want you to know what they had been doing behind your back.

The next day, an onslaught of sex toy ads kept popping up when you turned on your PC. It obviously pissed you off at first (especially with how one appeared when you share your screen during a work meeting), but eventually it made you consider getting one. And if you got a transfer to your bank account in the same amount you spent on it right after, if you received four dildos instead of one, they totally had nothing to do with it. Nope, they totally didn’t send you the exact copies of their cocks.

Next (soon)

A/N: I remember someone saying 'How are you gonna get a guy if you never leave your house' and this is my answer to that also, this series was supposed to be fun silly online friends story, so idk what happened here, I swear the story wrote itself I had nothing to do with it

open taglist : @partiallysame, @niazrzl, @iiriam, @sweetlike-sugarplum, @mordacioust, @boogeysmoth, @little-mini-me-world, @sxnshinebxcky, @lady-red-night-1234, @theycallmevalen, @z-wantstowrite, @c-moon20-12, @glitteryarcadefart, @purple-snowfox, @shylahstarzz

[lost-technology]

I've gotten most, if not all of these in my long career. My favorite is my big mug of salty reader tears.

AO3 Writer “Achievements”

I know there are way more than ten possible achievements, but I stopped at ten because it’s a nice round number.

[hungharrington]

show-time

request: i cannot stop thinking about asking steve if he ever got himself off to you before you got together. he’d be so blushy and sheepish about it but man it’d be fun to watch him squirm 🤤

2.1k words, established relationship, masturbation (steve), gn!reader, MDNI this entire blog is 18+

It’s a universally awkward experience to have a sex-scene come on in a movie. Unless one’s watching it alone, of course.

You are not. Cuddled in behind you, cushioning you against his chest, Steve lounges, his eyes fixed on the screen.

Sure, in terms of awkwardness-rankings, watching this with your boyfriend who you also have sex with isn’t as bad as, like, watching with parents.

But still. You kinda can’t tell if you should be watching or averting your eyes — and you don’t want to peek over your shoulder to figure out what Steve’s doing.

The man in the film grunts, his hand in his pants jerking furiously, his eyes fixed on a polaroid of the film’s love interest.

You squint—surely this is stretching the truth a bit?

Yeah, yeah, guys jerk off, you know that - this isn’t your first day on earth.

You just didn’t think it would be like, romantic style. People in movies kiss in the rain and run through airports, so they’re hardly known for being grounded in reality.

The man in the film groans lewdly and you feel Steve shift slightly behind you, his fingers looped around your middle twitching.

Did he-? When you-? You suppose you’ve never really thought about it.

You’re asking before you can second guess yourself.

“Did you do this?”

Steve’s attention switches idly from the screen to you as you crane your neck to look back at him. His brows pinch together.

“Did I do what?” He asks, doting brown eyes searching your face.

You fluster a bit. This is certainly moving you up through the awkwardness rankings. But now it’s in your head —now you’ve said it — you can’t turn back.

The thought of it blazes hotly through your mind.

Steve, all those months ago, still just crushing on you, but never quite making a move. He’d told you, whispered his secret, when you’d finally gotten the nerve to ask him to be your boyfriend officially, that he’d been sweet on you far longer than you knew.

But the image of it is what has you interested. You imagine Steve, his fist stuffed into his tight jeans, working himself over and biting his fist to hide his moans, at the mere thought of you.

You’d had plenty of long, late night conversations on the phone before officially getting together.

The thought of if he’d ever touched himself while you talked, none the wiser on the other end, wanders into your mind — and your stomach clenches hotly at the thought.

Clearing your throat, you tip your head towards the screen.

“Like, before we got together?”

It takes Steve another glance at the screen to realise what you’re asking. A simmering, pink colour crawls up his neck and in a moment, you go from feeling awkward to feeling downright devious.

Steve clears his throat, his eyes darting rapidly back and forth from the screen to your face. “Uh, I- I mean, why do you ask?”

A coy smile curls at your mouth. “I wanna know how accurate it is.”

Steve stares down at you, the pink now creeping up his cheeks and to the tips of his ears. God, he looks delectable like this.

Is this how he looked when he did it too? Blushy and embarrassed to commit such a filthy act thinking of someone that wasn’t his? A hot buzz drizzles through your core, fringed with endearment.

Steve licks his lips nervously. His hands on your stomach stiffen and then relax. The film plays on in the background. His expression shifts towards something sheepish.

“It’s — I, uh, well, yes.” He stammers. “It’s accurate, yes.”

“How many times?”

Steve’s eyes narrow, but his face gets redder. ���What is this, an interrogation now?”

You giggle, drinking in his evidently embarrassed state. The confirmation of him doing it solidifies the perfect image of him in your mind, your own film-scene imagining Steve in the same position as the character on screen. In real life, Steve moves his hand to tug at the collar of his shirt.

“I’m just… enjoying the idea of it.” You muse.

“Uh huh,” Steve says, tongue jammed into the side of his cheek. “Not just—” He fumbles for his words. “Just enjoying seeing me, I don’t know, like—”

His words trail off and his head tips back with a groan, exposing the delicious expanse of his throat. It begs you for kisses and love bites. He moves both hands up to cover his face.

You wait til he pulls them away to nod. “Absolutely, baby. Watching you squirm is far more interesting than this film.”

In the background, the man on screen gives a pornographic shout as he finishes in his pants. Steve manages to turn redder, even if he keeps his eyes fixed on you.

“But I’m just,” You huff and pout. “Put out, I guess. You did all that for me and I didn’t even get to see it.”

At the exact same time, you watch as Steve’s pupils dilate, blowing out in obvious lust, and something pressed against your back thickens up.

Steve, to his credit, only makes one strained noise which he immediately smothers with a cough. You feel his hips twitch beneath you and make a quick decision, confidence built on the sweltering heat of Steve’s face.

You push forward and up, then quickly turn, slotting your knees across either side of Steve’s thighs, perching atop them nicely.

You’re not outright in his lap—there’s room between the two of you for what you hope will happen.

It takes Steve another long moment to catch your drift.

“Wait, you want-?” He inhales sharply. You can see the twitch of his cock through his loose sweatpants. “To see?”

“To watch,” You clarify, smiling almost mischievously. “Yeah.”

Then just to check, “Is that okay?”

Steve’s breath shudders out of him but he’s nodding before the question is completely out of your mouth.

“H-Here?” He checks. You nod, resting your hands atop your thighs to show you don’t plan on using them. Steve’s hungry eyes scan you up and down, the tent in his pants pitching up in arousal.

“Just show me how you did it,” You murmur, words on the side of sultry. Your own excitement, that faint thrum of pleasure, has already started to pool low in your gut.

“Yeah, but I normally don’t have an audience for it,” Steve mumbles, his left-hand reaching for the drawstrings of his sweats.

They come undone with a simple tug. Steve stretches the elastic out a bit and then slips his hand in.

You know the moment his large hand settles around his cock from the flutter of his lashes, the soft groan that curls out his throat, rough and sweet all at once.

This… This is new. You usually don’t get such a focused look at Steve’s pleasure, at the little shifts in his expression, too wrapped up in your own pleasure to pay proper attention. Getting this much detail sends a delicious throb between your thighs. You hardly want to blink.

Steve’s hand moves slow to begin with, slow, gentle strokes to get himself properly warmed up.

After a moment, he draws his hand back and some part of you worries he’s too weirded out now. But he only brings it up, to his mouth, and you realise what he’s doing.

Quickly stealing his hand, Steve’s eyes widen as you let spit drop from your lips and pool in his palm. Another soft, jagged noise drags from his throat.

“Jesus Christ,” He murmurs, more to himself. “This is not what it’s like when it’s just me, this is, like, ten fucking times hotter.”

His hand sneaks back into his sweatpants but this time when he grips his cock, the reaction this time is immediate.

Steve moans, louder this time, his eyes crushing closed and his hand starts moving faster. With the help of your spit, it doesn’t take long before you can hear it, the slick sounds of him fucking his cock desperately.

His head tips back against the couch and a piece of hair flops over, into his eyes.

You reach out and brush it to the side and Steve’s eyes crease open at the same time a whine threads through his moans.

“Fuck,” He grunts. He sinks in teeth into his bottom lip, his eyes desperately roaming your face. “Fuck, baby, you’re so pretty.”

“That what you thought bout?”

You’re impressed with yourself for the cool, calm demeanour you’re portraying. Steve nods, the motion a little wild, his hand still making those lewd, wet noises.

“Uh huh,” His voice shakes a little. “Just, fuck, dunno, like, your face and-uh-what y-you’d sound like.”

Your eyes glitter with interest, ego raring at the devotion your boyfriend is spilling out.

“What I’d sound like?”

“Y-Yeah,” Steve stammers, his breathing heavy. “Like, doing this.”

Now that’s a picture; Steve jerking off to the thought of you, hot and bothered with your hand between your thighs. You give a breathy gasp without meaning to.

Steve hears it, groaning louder as he quickens his pace. You sort of want to reach forward and ruck up his shirt, so you can see the glorious clench of his stomach as he rolls his hips up into his warm hand.

“Can I see more?” You ask tentatively. “Please?”

This time, it’s more like a whimper that creeps out of Steve’s throat.

“Oh my god,” Steve mumbles through a stilted moan. “Jesus Christ. Yeah, yeah, of course.”

He swallows heavily, his free hand reaching down to push at his waistband. You help, lifting up to help tug the fabric out of the way.

Obstructions removed, your mouth salivates. Steve’s cock is pretty — and it looks that much more enticing when it’s worked up, pink and the tip of it leaking all over his hand.

Steve’s a fucking vision. His head still lolled back, his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows. His throat, dotted with moles, crawling with pinkness. His big, veiny hand wrapped around his cock, pumping it steadily.

You think about how much you’d like the lick the trail of hair on his tummy, down, down, down.

“You seem close,” You say and it earns you a reedy whimper in response. “Is it- does it normally happen this fast?”

“Are you kidding me?” Steve whispers back. His eyes are closed and after a moment, you realise he’s trying to keep himself from cumming too quickly, even as his hand doesn’t slow. “I—ngh— n-normally don’t have such good, ah, material. My imagination is— is not this good.”

You’re equal parts flattered and flustered, heat twinging in your gut.

“Can— can I?” Steve whimpers out suddenly.

The question nearly throws you. You almost say Can you what? when the meaning of it douses you in fire.

He’s asking permission.

Oh, that does something to you.

“Yeah, Stevie,” You say, voice lilting closer to a coo. “I wanna see it, please.”

Something shifts in his motions, changing gear as Steve’s hand suddenly starts moving in smaller, tighter strokes, just over the head of his cock. His head tucks forward, his eyes scrunched closed, and he’s whimpers out, “thank you, thank you, thank you.”

It only takes a few seconds, the whine in Steve’s voice pitching higher and higher, until something gives.

His hips take over, something desperate and primal shoving them up, his thrusts rapid and frantic. His hand doesn’t stop moving, not even as his cock starts to leak out ropes of cum, shooting out enough to cover the back of his knuckles. It joins your spit to rub slick against his cock.

He keens pitifully. For one long minute, you listen to Steve’s breathy whines get softer and softer, watch his desperate thrusts abate til an overstimulated shiver wracks through his body. Then, and only then, does he collapse back, sinking into the couch.

He’s a bit ruined, truthfully.

And you’ve soaked through your panties.

“You’re welcome,” You croak, throat dry. His hair is back in his eyes and lean forward, tenderly brushing it out of the way. You leave your hand there, cupping the side of his face, and Steve leans into it, still panting.

“What?” He asks.

“You were thanking me,” You point out cheekily.

Steve’s face plunges back to that scarlet colour you’re beginning to adore most ardently. He turns his face further to hide away in the palm of your hands.

“Shut up,” He mumbles.

“So you don’t wanna do that again?” You tease.

Steve pulls back and eyes you. “Now, hang on, I didn’t say that…”

[5sospenguinqueen]

Please, Please, Please | Max Verstappen x Singer! Reader

Summary:  What do you do when your ex-girlfriend moves on with another guy? Become needy and pathetic. But, when the guy brings you to tears, Max knows it's his time to save you from further heartbreak.

Warnings: barry keogan (i couldn't find any other men with her that worked), swearing, toxic relationships, pathetic max 

Requested: yes by many of you on the previous part 

Faceclaim: Sabrina Carpenter (she was used on the last one and yes, she's used a lot but I stole her song and her job so I'm also stealing her face)

F1 Masterlist

prev. || next.

part 4 will be the last part so it may seem a bit rushed but i didn’t plan anything else. sorry! these just seem to be getting worse as well, so i’m also sorry about that 

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

maxverstappen1 just posted

liked by danielricciardo, liamlawson30 and others

maxverstappen1 a good effort from the team to start on the front row tomorrow 💪 let’s keep pushing tomorrow 🇺🇸

6,633 comments 

user1 twitter is claiming that max and kelly broke up

user2 okay but i actually can’t function until i know if max is free from kelly once more

user3 max please tell us if you and kelly have broken up

user4 i need max and kelly to be done forever this time 

user5 is it true that you broke up with kelly?

→ maxverstappen1 yes. now can we focus on the race

→ user6 @/yn_ln this means you can give him another chance 

→ user7 why would she want to after he ran back to kelly

(comments have been limited) 

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

yn_ln just posted

liked by mclaren, actorbf and others

yn_ln surprise! if you have any questions, you can refer to my new single please, please, please 💋

13,850 comments 

user8 the two of them are so cute 

jennaortega i’ll give you all the kisses 

→ user9 i wouldn’t. not with all the men she goes through

→ oscarpiastri whoa now, there’s no need for that 

user10 don’t get me wrong. i’m loving all the new music. but my heart can’t handle all the new layers to this drama 

landonorris okay, little miss hollywood. that music video just proved you’d never do well in a film 

→ yn_ln oi, i act better than you do, mr hilton 

→ hilton we’d be happy to have you both

user11 ew, so she went from a hot motorsport driver to a subpar actor?

user12 wait, what? this wasn’t supposed to happen. she’s gone off script. max is single now, they were meant to be getting back together 

→ user13 she’s not his back-up plan. plus she’s way out of his league 

user14 don’t you think you might be putting strain on her new relationship? i doubt her new guy likes to see everyone preferring the old guy 

→ user15 hopefully that means he’ll leave and we can get her and max back

user16 has anyone checked on max?

(comments have been turned off)

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

yn_ln just posted

liked by charles_leclerc, verstappencom and others

yn_ln how to lose a cake in 10 minutes 

16,334 comments 

alexandrasaintmleux the most beautiful birthday girl 

→ francisca.cgomes this dress is going to live rent free in my head 

→ yn_ln thank you for letting me show you both twenty different dresses

→ alexandrasaintmleux just wish you were taller so we could steal some of them 

→ yn_ln can’t believe you’d do this to me on the day of my birth 

→ oscarpiastri technically your birthday is tomorrow. this was just your birthday party

→ yn_ln thin fucking ice, piastri

user1 guys guys guys. verstappencom liked this. i repeat verstappencom liked this

→ user2 okay but that’s not max

→ user1 but it’s an advocate for max so 

landonorris dicaprio wouldn’t want you anyway. you’re too short

→ yn_ln i’ll make my boyfriend fight you 

→ landonorris i’m not scared of your polly pocket boyfriend

→ mclaren you can’t say stuff like this publicly, lan

→ user3 i swear none of them actually like her boyfriend 

→ user4 showing their support for max. he’s the only person who matches her beauty 

user5 no but the hand in the dress is somehow cute and hot 

→ user6 not with that guy. it should be max 

redbullracing happy birthday to our favourite popstar

replies

user7 what do you mean she had to pay for her own birthday meal on her birthday because her boyfriend wouldn’t

→ user8 not even wouldn’t but flat out refused 

→ user9 streets are saying it’s because he’s broke. not exactly like he’s raking in the job offers 

user10 so this man is lucky enough to get a chance with THE y/n l/n, then he refuses to pay for her dinner, and then he yells at her?? all on her birthday???

→ user11 he’s punching above his weight and clearly that angers him

→ user12 especially with the way she looked in that yellow sparkly dress today 

user13 someone clearly isn’t very smart. she writes a song for him - the first one she’s written recently that isn’t about max - and he does exactly what the song asks him not to do 

→ user14 how dare he try to embarrass our queen by yelling at her in front of so many people

→ user15 i’m starting to question if our girl does have good judgement. how could two men do this to her? 

→ user16 definitely doesn’t have good taste

user17 the audacity to yell at her in a restaurant of people, and then continue to do so after you were asked to leave because you were yelling at her

user18 and if i said i saw max verstappen pass them in the street, stop and turn, and start defending her, then what?

→ user18 he was literally yelling at this man whilst holding a crying y/n behind him, and rubbing her arm soothingly 

→ user19 we’d say you’re full of shit and have no tangible proof 

→ user20 this could be true because he was hanging out with charles and some of the drivers. and i just know alex sm got on the phone to her boyf and begged him to send the love of y/n’s life to save her

→ user19 pics or it didn’t happen

maxverstappen1 posted a new story yn_ln posted a new story

landonorris replied to maxverstappen1 i recognise the birthday girl's dress

landonorris replied to yn_ln who’s the 3rd person 👀 → wait why wasn’t I invited

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

requests open

tag list

@omgsuperstarg @seonghwaexile @evie-119 @alejandrablacklupin @nina-or-anna-or-nora @shelbyteller @raynetargaryan2 @astroniii @raizelchrysanderoctavius @azuramicah @seasonswinter @chaoswithus @casey1-2007 @chemiru @strengthandstay @ivanag1rl@anayaverse @formulaal @ellelabelle @yara011 @callsignwidow @freyathehuntress @floweringlee @isagrace22 @sunny44 @lottalove4evelyn @danielshoe @paucubarsisimp @monacosprince @stereading @hoeforsirius @anilovessadbooks @armystay89 @cassofheartsss

sorry if i missed anyone. it wouldn't let me tag some of y'all

[reiding-writing]

Heyy!! i was wondering if you could perchance do a drabble with dad!spencer and mom!bau!reader where they've gotten into the rhythm of calling each other mommy and daddy in front of the kids and one of them accidentally slips up and does it work without realising. And then the team is like "hold on 🤨" (probably morgan) and they have to defend themselves. Just something i've been thinking about and i don't have the artistic ability to right it myself but you do! Thank youuuu! xxx

SLIP UP. /spencer reid/

your at-home naming habits find their way into the office.

bau!mom!reader 1.1k fluff masterlist.

a/n | this is so funny i love it.

The bullpen hums with its usual energy—phones ringing, keyboards clacking, conversations weaving through the space.

It’s late, and exhaustion weighs on everyone like a heavy fog. Cases have been stacking up, the paperwork never-ending, and you’re all running on caffeine and whatever sugar-laden snack Garcia has left in the breakroom.

You and Spencer, despite being used to sleepless nights—courtesy of two small children at home—are still feeling the burn.

Parenting while profiling is a delicate balance, and some days, it feels like you barely hold it together. But you've found ways to cope, to slip into a rhythm that works.

Spencer leans over his desk, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he scans a report. His hair is slightly disheveled—likely from running his hands through it—and his tie is loosened, his sleeves rolled up. He looks exactly how you feel, drained.

You, seated across from him, are going through another file when you sigh and reach for the next document. “Pass Mommy the file, please,”

The moment the words leave your mouth, the bullpen stills. For a brief second, no one reacts. Not even Spencer, who doesn’t hesitate to slide the file over to you, his tired brain not even registering what just happened.

But then—

“Hold on, what?”

Your head snaps up so fast you nearly give yourself whiplash. Across the table, Morgan is staring at you with wide eyes, a slow, knowing smirk spreading across his face. JJ’s eyebrows are raised nearly to her hairline, and even Rossi has paused his paperwork, looking mildly amused.

Hotch looks like he’s trying very hard not to react.

You glance at Spencer, who is blinking rapidly, his brain trying to catch up with what just happened.

And then, it hits you.

“Oh my God.” Your stomach drops. Heat rushes to your face. “I didn’t mean—”

Morgan leans forward, elbows on the table, his smirk growing. “Did you just refer to yourself as Mommy?”

Spencer makes a strangled noise in the back of his throat. “It’s— It’s not—”

“Because I swear I just heard that,” Morgan continues, clearly enjoying himself.

JJ covers her mouth, eyes twinkling with suppressed laughter.

You groan, dropping your face into your hands. “It’s not what you think,”

“Oh, I think it’s exactly what I think.” Morgan chuckles, leaning back in his chair. “Reid, you calling her Mommy at home?”

Spencer makes another choked noise, shaking his head furiously. “No! I mean— yes, but not like that!”

JJ snorts, and even Hotch finally cracks, pinching the bridge of his nose like he’s debating whether or not to intervene.

You lift your head, groaning again. “We have two kids under four. There’s a lot of third-person referencing, okay?”

Morgan raises an eyebrow, amused.

Spencer, still red-faced, starts rambling. “It’s a psychological phenomenon, actually. When individuals—particularly parents—are frequently addressed in a particular way, their brains develop an associative response, reinforcing the use of the terms even in situations outside the expected context. It’s entirely innocent. Just an unconscious linguistic habit.”

Morgan whistles low. “Damn, Pretty Boy. You really just tried to profile your way out of calling your wife ‘Mommy’ in front of us,”

Spencer groans, burying his face in his hands.

Your face feels impossibly warm. “We’re tired, Morgan. We haven’t had a full night’s sleep in—” You glance at Spencer. “How long has it been?”

“Three years, three months, and sixteen days,” he answers automatically.

Morgan lets out a low whistle. “Damn,”

Emily places a hand over her heart. “That’s actually kind of adorable,”

Garcia practically vibrates with excitement. “This is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I need to hear more,”

“There’s nothing more to hear,” Spencer says, shaking his head quickly. “It’s just a habit. Strictly innocent,”

“Oh, we believe you,” Rossi says, the corners of his mouth twitching. “That doesn’t mean we’re going to let it go,”

“Not a chance,” Morgan agrees.

You groan, dropping your head into your hands. “This is never going away, is it?”

“Nope,” JJ says cheerfully.

Spencer sighs, rubbing his temples. “Great.”

And just like that, the teasing begins.

For the rest of the day—and likely for weeks to come—you hear variations of:

“Daddy, can you pass me that report?” from Emily.

“I don’t know, Mommy, what do you think?” from Morgan.

Garcia, of course, takes it the farthest, occasionally referring to you both as “Mommy and Daddy dearest,” complete with exaggerated winks.

By the time you make it home that evening, you collapse onto the couch with a groan, Spencer falling beside you.

“I’m never going to live this down,” you mumble.

“At least they think it’s funny,” Spencer says, leaning his head back against the cushions.

You sigh. “This is your fault,”

He turns his head to look at you, eyebrows raised. “My fault?”

“You didn’t even hesitate when I said it. You just handed me the file like it was totally normal,”

His lips twitch. “To be fair, it is normal,”

You nudge him with your foot. “Not at work, it isn’t,”

He chuckles, then tilts his head, considering. “Maybe if we just… pretend it never happened, they’ll drop it,”

You snort. “You really think that’s going to work?”

“…No,”

“Exactly.” You groan again, rubbing your hands over your face. “I’m never going to hear the end of this,”

Spencer smiles softly, reaching over to squeeze your hand. “At least we’re in it together, Mommy,”

You open your eyes just to glare at him. “You better not start doing that on purpose,”

He presses his lips together, trying to suppress a grin.

“Spencer,” you warn.

His grin widens. “Yes, Mommy?”

You grab a throw pillow and smack him with it, and his laughter fills the room, warm and familiar.

Exhausted as you both are, you wouldn’t trade this—your life, your family, the teasing from your team—for anything in the world.

[yanderenightmare]

♡ TW: implied nsfw, implied noncon/dubcon, poly yanderes, sprained ankle, captive reader, apocolypse au, talk of fertility and pregnancy

♡ FEM reader

♡ P1: The Bunker

Your ankle feels better after a little over a week.

The one initially against you staying has been giving you medical check-ups every day—something about wasteland toxins and underlying, possible contagious sicknesses he’d like to keep a weathered eye out for. 

You hadn’t refused. After all, such precautions were only warranted.

When you first encountered them in the wasteland, they were both wearing hazmat suits and gas masks. And though you had already been put through the standard disinfection and the basic check—eyes, teeth, and tongue—before they’d even let you in, you can’t blame them for taking extra measures—no matter how meticulous the check-ups have been since, comprising of endless spit, blood, and urine samples.

Somehow, you actually appreciated the thoroughness. It was just one more thing that reminded you of the past. The way he sat there, behind the desk like a doctor, and you opposite, like a patient, waiting for your results.

You’d gotten more or less used to it now, so it didn’t feel as awkward anymore. And, if you were to say so yourself, you think he’s even warmed up to you a little bit too.

“You’re all clear. No detectable toxins,” he states after a moment, mulling over the data, more or less the same outcome he’d come to for the last four or so days. He scribbled a few things into the file he’d been conducting, a focused furrow between his brows as he worked. You felt inclined to inquire about what exactly he’d been jotting down all these days of running tests but then decided against it—explaining things to you would probably only vex him. He was a man of as few words as possible, after all.

He sighs, then informs, “We can stop checking every day now.”

“Really?” you light up—feeling excited for some reason. Suppose you took it as a sign of improvement even without knowing entirely what any of it actually meant. In any case, lesser checks must be good, right?

“Yeah. You’re way healthier, thanks to all our produce and not consuming any of that wasteland trash.” He pulled a grimace before his face settled back into that constant look of dour solemnity. “Blood pressure, heart rate, vitals—everything looks good.”

It almost seems like such a silly thing to even bother caring about. Only a few weeks ago, you hadn’t cared for any such thing as health as long as it meant you weren’t starving or freezing—and here you are, celebrating such a privileged thing as blood pressure.

You sniffle, can’t help yourself, balled fists quivering in your lap as a few tears start to drop, “Thank you—truly. I’d have died if it weren’t for the two of you.”

He must think you’re ridiculous, too, crying over something so small. You wipe your eyes, only to notice him holding out a tissue for you. You can only laugh at yourself while accepting it.

“You’ll help me in the greenhouse today since your ankle is all better,” he states while getting up.

You spring to your feet, too. This would be the first time you’d been asked to help out. “What about—”

“He’s busy doing inventory,” he answers before you get the question out. “We’ll have to change a few things since you’re staying.”

This stills you, breath caught in your throat. You look at him wide-eyed, scared you’d heard him wrong. Voice weak as if scared to ask, “I’m staying?”

“Tch—” It’s his turn to chuckle, though he does so much differently from you—mockingly, a way he often does at both your and the other's expense. Though, you’d taken to find it rather endearing. He gives you a look—it’s very almost soft. “You didn’t think we’d waste our resources on something we planned on chucking back out again, did you?”

A tug pulls your wobbly lips back into a smile. “I guess that would be silly...” you sniffle again. “Still, thank you.”

This time, as you say it, you rush to hug him—tightly, with both your arms wrapped around his tough midsection and your head tucked against his broad chest.

It’s him who falls still now—stunted by the action and left both speechless and frozen in place. His arms hover mid-air, unsure of where to rest, before slowly lowering to settle atop your narrow shoulders—so much smaller in comparison. It’s crazy to think you’d endured out in the wasteland for so long.

He’s sure you’ve done things in order to stay alive you’re not at all proud of. Still, your survival is no less than a miracle.

He clears his throat. “Let’s hurry up,” He dismisses, then proceeds to nudge you off as if the hug was unwanted, but even you can spot the blush dusting his cheeks as he looks away with another grumble, “We’re making dinner before he’s done.”

The smile on your face is a sight for sore eyes, he thinks. You didn’t smile like that a week ago.

“Yes, sir.” You salute, following him in stride.

You’d said it innocently enough, but by God, if only you knew how it takes everything in him not to bend you over the medical desk right then and tell you all about how you’re in the perfect window for conceiving. 

He manages to steal himself. 

After dinner, he promised himself soothingly, calming the hunger in his gut—after dinner, they’d decided, tonight would be the night they’d finally make use of you the real way they’d intended—have you earn your keep.

When you’re done tilling the gardens, about a couple hours later, the two of you move on to the kitchen. You’d learn that the brash one was in charge of making most meals, as the other one was more than hopeless in the kitchen. It seemed you were replacing him as the helper, given simple tasks such as cutting, measuring, and fetching things.

It felt nice to be doing something again, especially something so trivial. Housework and domestic chores were something one could only reminisce about, and yet here you were, doing just that—cutting carrots as if the outside world wasn’t a badland of people killing each other for a can of expired dog food.

You really were so lucky you could hardly believe it. The tears start bubbling again.

“If you’re finished cutting, go to the cupboard over there,” he jolts you out of your thoughts. Not looking away from stirring the pot, he points with his other hand toward the far side of the kitchen.

You pad over and open it to find two dozen or more bottles of wine, all neatly shelved.

“Pick one out,” he calls out.

You blink, looking between the wine and him. “You mean—”

“Anyone of ‘em is fine,” he says. “Feel free to read if you’re looking for something special, though. It’s you were celebrating, after all.”

This time, you can’t stop the tears as they trickle down your face one after the other, soaking your cheeks.

Hearing you sniffle makes him sigh with rust. Scolding you with military toughness, “Quit cryin’ already—it’s getting old.”

You wipe your eyes and stiffen your lip. “Yes, sir.”

Turning your head back to the shelf, you can hardly believe the sight. It had been all moonshine and slop out in the wasteland. Dangerous stuff you were better staying well away from.

You can’t believe you’re going to drink actual wine again—your mouth waters just at the thought as you pick the first bottle you set your eyes on. But then you stop yourself—a guilty knot in your stomach twisting.

“Is it really okay?” you ask. “Shouldn’t we save it?”

“Tch—” he scoffs disapprovingly again. “You gotta stop doin’ that.”

You’re left looking at him even though he keeps his back turned, still busy stirring the pot. He lifts a spoon for tasting, then adds more spice to his liking before continuing as though he could tell you were confused just from the silence.

“You’re not in the wasteland anymore—” he states. “You can afford to live a little now.”

A concept like that had yet to have reached you. 

Suppose you were still settling in. 

“Besides, there are more in the cellar,” he reveals. “Even if we drank a bottle every day, it would take years for us to finish. So don’t worry your pretty head ‘bout it, a’ight?”

Your grip around the bottle tightens—trying to toughen up to keep the tears at bay. But today was an emotional day, and it seemed there was no end to the blessings you were given. It was all so overwhelming, your heart swelled with happiness—a feeling you hadn’t felt in such an awfully long time.

“Something smells good!” comes a call.

It seems he’s returned from doing inventory.

“Oh no, why are you crying?” He instantly rushes over to you, holding your face to inspect the damage, then snaps his head to the other, who’s still busying himself with perfecting dinner. “Are you being too harsh on her?” he accuses. “You know, not everyone can live up to your cooking expectations—”

“Tch—I haven’t done shit,” he denies. “She’s just emotional ‘cause I told her we’re lettin’ her stay.”

“What!? You told her without me?” he cries then. “We were supposed to surprise her together.” His pout is instantly replaced with a blank look of surprise as you wrap your arms around him like you’d done with the other earlier—hugging him tightly.

“Thank you,” you repeat to him as well.

You still couldn’t believe how nice they had been to you. 

After dinner is eaten, the three of you end up sitting there, chatting—about the past, most of all, how things used to be—how people would live in little houses with next-door neighbors they’d invite over for game night—little families with kids and backyards and pet dogs—college, marriage, careers.

You helped the stoic one clear the dishes while the chipper of the two opened another bottle of wine. You can hardly believe it when they bring out the record player and slide a vinyl on.

You end up crying again as the music plays. You even dance. Laughter fills the bunker while you get completely swept away with the feeling of utter bliss. And as the wine finishes and the conversation turns sloppy, the hands twirling your body to the music get a little touchier, a little greedier, until you’re suddenly kissed.

Between the two of them, the air becomes hot—steamy as you share breathes. 

Busy hands, large and strong and callused from labor, work on your button-up shirt. It’s gone before you know it, then the hands move on to your pants.

Honestly, after all the emotions joined by the wine and dance and being spun between the two, you can’t say you’re completely without lust, but at the same time, you’re just a bit confused. 

Despite not having seen them kiss in front of you, you’re certain they both go to bed in the same room every night—so all this time, you’d been under the impression that they were involved with each other and not interested in you that way. 

Not that it matters much what you thought, you think, you’re not against what’s happening so much as you’re a little hesitant about how it’s about to happen. It’s been a while since you’ve slept with anyone—willingly, that is—you’ve sort of forgotten how to enjoy it. 

If it were just one, you’d maybe find it a bit less overwhelming, but given there were two, you quickly found yourself feeling somewhat claustrophobic.

“Wait—” you stutter. Blocking the advance with your own hands, looking up into drunken and heated eyes and the soft look of arousal painted on the face before you. 

“Don’t worry,” he comforts with that kind smile. “You’re the most valuable thing we have—we’re gonna be gentle.”

You almost bite, almost give in, almost let it soothe you. But even in the drunk haze, the choice of phrasing finds you a little odd. And you’re unable to disregard that feeling that’s been nagging at the very back of your head ever since you stepped foot in the place. 

Something’s not right.

“Valuable?” Sure, you could choose to understand it as them saying they care for you, but somehow, it just doesn’t feel as if that’s all. “What does that mean?”

“You know…” he utters softly—his kind smile curling into something different. His eyes fall downward as he licks his lips before finishing, “This.” 

He’s laid a hand atop your belly where his gaze is set—his palm flat and firm as he rubs tentative circles into the softness.

It takes you a moment before you shudder. “You…” 

You needed to be rational about this. Some part of you always knew there was something going on, didn’t it? Why else would you be here? Why else would they let you stay? The cameras in the bedroom, in the showers, all those medical checkups—you’ve known there was something. And still, you hadn’t left. You hadn’t even so much as humored the thought even once.

There is no life for you out there. You don’t just want to stay—you have to—you need to.

And is it really so bad? Hadn't they been nice? Haven’t they been more than generous? Don’t you owe them so much more than what they’re asking in return?

But what are they asking? It’s not just intimacy. It’s something else—something premeditated.

“You want to use me to…” The realization makes you shudder. “To make you a child…”

Like an incubator.

They don’t deny it.

You want to back up—create space—room to breathe, but the other is just behind you with his big chest pressed stiffly against your back, keeping you close, trapped before the one in front.

“It’s true…” he confesses at your ear. “That is all we wanted from you in the beginning.” 

It sends a chill down your spine.

“It was almost too good to be true when we found you,” he continued while playing with your waist in big hands. “How a perfect candidate fell right into our lap mere days after we decided to go lookin’ for one.”

You suck in a hitched breath as the well of tears breaches, dribbling down your cheeks at the clinical word—candidate.

“But you’re more than that now,” the other reassures, bowing and fishing for your eyes as you’d taken to look down—too horrified to look him back in his. 

“We figured you’d be a savage, havin’ lived out there for so long,” the one behind says. He’d been the most skeptical at first, but he’d come to learn it was rather the opposite—your time out there hadn’t toughened your skin or hardened your heart but only made you timid and soft.

“In all honesty, we weren’t sure we were gonna keep you after the pregnancy…” the one in front whispers upon your lips. “But that’s all in the past now.”

He lifts your chin, taking in the all-too-soft look of despair on your face. It’s a strange thing to say he’d missed. It nearly makes him feel guilty for the hard-on in his cargo pants. But then again, tears are the allure of the gentler sex. It’s only natural for a man to enjoy the sight.

“We want you to stay.” He strokes your cheek, catching the tears on his thumb. “After all, it would be best for the baby to have a female presence—especially one as soft as yours.”

“And, well…” You flinch at the stubble being dragged upon your shoulder and neck, a kiss placed in the nook there along with his words, “We’ve grown to like having you around.”

His hands had fallen from your waist down to rub your hips, swaying you back against his crotch—and the bulge there, that now felt a little more like a gun being poked against your back. 

“It’s been a long while since we’ve had the company of a woman,” he continues while pressing himself against you. “It was unfamiliar at first, but… it’s nice.”

Something urgent takes over your body then—even though it’s beyond stupid. There’s no plan, no further thought than run—despite having no solid clue as to where. And yet, it ends up not mattering in the slightest. You don’t make it far.

You scream as their hands snag you. The grumpier one locks your arms, the chipper one grabs your legs—and they both lift and carry you back—laying you down on the little round table you’d had dinner on.

You struggle, but your wrists are pinned down to the metal with a strength you can’t hope to match.

“Don’t be like that.” He clicks his tongue dismissively like he so often does when you say or do something stupid. “There’s nowhere to go.”

“No—” you cry. “Please—don’t.” Shaking your head while squeezing your thighs shut. 

Never mind having sex, you could endure that much—but having a baby in this mess? They’re the ones who lost their minds down here. 

“I can’t—”

“Of course, you can,” the other insists, prying your thighs apart to make space for himself between them, already with his hands returning to undo the button of your pants, zipping down the fly and tugging them off.

“No—”

He’s back to console you just as quickly, “Shh-sh, don’t cry,” he soothes, cupping your face in both palms. He gives you that kind smile again, but it no longer serves as any source of comfort—now just a mouth full of teeth. “We’ll be gentle.”

♡ BNHA – KiriBaku, BakuDeku, ShinKami, DabiHawks, EndHawks, ErasurMic ♡ JJK – SatoSugu, ItaFushi, SukuIta ♡ HQ – Miya twins, KageHina, BokuAka ♡ CSM – AkiDen, YoshiDen ♡ BLLK – NagiReo

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[enha-stars]

Meddle About ; P. Jongseong

I'd take you back to my house, so we could meddle about

Pairing: Boyfriend!Jay x F!Reader

Synopsis: Jay’s been a bit busy at work and hasn’t given you the attention you deserve, and now, you’re making him work for it. No problem, he loves the chase. (7.7k)

Warnings: Porn with almost no plot at all, SMUT, p in v, MDNI, alcohol, clubbing, kissing, praise, fluff, minor exhibitionism (in da club), oral (fem), spit, reader is shorter than jay, overstimulation, teasing, pet names, yn lowkey a brat, (minor) brat!tamer Jay, reader has long-ish hair, fingering, think that’s it! 

A/N: Gasp! She’s alive! Yes, I am. Barely. But! I wanted to get something out before Ramadan (lol) and originally Jake's hands were making me feel some type of way but then Jay... yeah. Anyways. Enjoy! Sorry if it sucks. Reblogs appreciated!

The warm steam still clings to your skin as you step out of the bathroom, a towel loosely wrapped around your body. Your damp hair drips onto your bare shoulders as you walk into your dimly lit bedroom, the soft glow of the city skyline filtering through the window. A slow, sultry beat hums through your speaker, something from your ‘Sexy Nite’ playlist that you can’t even name but it lulls you to sway your hips in rhythm, moving to the vanity. 

You take your time, dragging a shimmering body oil over your legs, watching the sheen catch the low light. The scent of vanilla and amber lingers in the air as you smooth it over your collarbones, letting the moment stretch, relishing in the quiet anticipation of the night ahead. It has been a busy week, meetings and presentations getting the best of you, but for now, it’s just you, the music, and the slow, deliberate ritual of getting ready. 

A night out on a warm Friday was all you needed to drown out the misery and exhaustion of the week. You weren’t originally going to accept, choosing to stay home with your boyfriend but when he texted you, letting you know that his meetings are running later than usual, you accepted the invitation. 

You slip into a purple lace bralette, fingers trailing along the delicate fabric, thinking back to the time you had first bought it, the way it was gently stripped from your body by Jay, his eyes lingering on it, long enough for you to buy a few more. You reach for the top draped over your chair and just as you’re about to pull it over your head, you hear a faint click of the front door unlocking. 

Then, footsteps. 

“Baby?” Jongseong’s voice, low and tired from the day, echoes down the hall. At the sound of his voice, one you hadn’t had the chance to hear today, your lips curved into a small smile, an ease settling into your bones. 

Before you can respond, he steps into the doorway and his eyes land on you, frozen mid-motion, the top still halfway in your hands. You turn to face him, a soft smile on your lips, and his gaze, once tired, darkens, slowly raking over your figure. The exhaustion from his day evaporates instantly, replaced by something huskier, something that makes the air in the room heavier, despite the seeping steam from the bathroom. 

“Shit” he exhales, his voice thick with something you recognize all too well. His tie is already loosened, sleeves pushed up, but now his fingers flex at his sides, like he’s debating whether to close the space between you. 

He hasn’t seen you all day, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead as he ran out the door this morning. He’s missed you, he always misses you, so as soon as his meeting finished, he flew out the door and sped home, hoping to catch you before you left. 

A smirk tugs at your lips as you slip the top over your head, watching his jaw tighten, his eyes lingering a second too long. You bought this top, black and lace, with him a few weeks ago. He made you try it on and then he took it off you in the changing room, mumbling against your skin about how beautiful you looked. 

“Hi, baby. You’re home early,” you murmur, turning back towards the mirror, pretending not to notice the way he’s still looking at you like he wants to ruin your plans for the night. You would’ve let him, but you were feeling a bit mean tonight. 

Jay exhales a slow, amused breath, leaning against the doorframe, head tilted slightly as he watches you. You catch his eye in the mirror briefly and have to look away instantly because the heat in his eyes, the love and promise, was enough to make you cave. 

“Yeah,” he says, voice rough. “Lucky me.” 

He blinks slowly, trying to ease the want and desire that drips out of him. He’s not sure why he’s having such a visceral reaction to you, but he knows it could be anything. A combination of your body wash, the sight of you in that top, or just you, looking so pretty and relaxed. 

You pretend not to notice the way Jay’s gaze lingers, hot and unrelenting, as you turn back toward the chair where the rest of your outfit is laid out. The music pulses through the room, wrapping around you like a second skin, heightening the thick tension that settled in the room. 

With knowing slowness, you reach for your mini skirt, sliding it up your legs inch by inch, smoothing the fabric over your hips. It’s a little tight, tighter than you would like, but with the way his eyes were drinking you in, you knew you couldn’t change it. You can feel his stare like a touch, burning into every movement you make. The hemline barely covers what it should, and when you glance at him through the mirror’s reflection, his jaw is locked tight, his tongue swiping over his bottom lip like he’s trying to keep himself in check. 

You loved this look on him, the loose constraint, the way his lips were pinched tightly, almost as tight as his jaw. It made his tanned skin glisten, the veins in his arms making an appearance. He looked absolutely edible. 

Jay breathes sharply, then lifts his hands to his collar, tugging his tie looser with slow, measured movements. The silk slides between his fingers as he pulls it off completely, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he watches you shift, adjusting your skirt in place. He has half a mind to usher you to bed, using his tie to keep you from squirming. 

“That’s the outfit for tonight?” His voice is rough, deeper than before. His throat is parched and he feels like a bitch in heat but he can’t help it when you look like that, when you look at him like you want to eat him as much as he wants to eat you. 

Your smile twists into an innocent pout and you finally turn to face him. “Yeah. Why? You don’t like it?” You can see the physical evidence of how much he likes it, but you wanna hear it. 

Jay lets out a low chuckle, but there’s no humour in it—just heat, thick and dark in his tone. He pushes off the doorframe and takes his time walking further into the room, every step heavier than the last, like a predator closing in. 

“I like it,” he answers quietly, eyes never leaving you.

“You look beautiful.” 

He sits on the edge of the bed, legs spread wide, one arm resting on his knee while the other rakes through his hair. He looks devastating like his—tie abandoned, top buttons undone, sleeves pushed up, the definition of dangerous, divine, and delicious. You want nothing more than to push him back on the bed and kiss his skin, knowing how he’d taste. Like oakwood and sweat. 

You swallow the lump of heat in your throat, heart thrumming in sync with the low string-heavy song playing. “Are you going to shower? I thought you were tired.” You were baiting him, he knew it, but he couldn’t help but want the hook anyways. 

Jay tilts his head, watching you carefully. “I was.” His lips curl into a smile, something sinful. “Then I walked in on my girl looking like this. And suddenly, I’m not so tired anymore.”

You step towards the vanity, pretending to focus on your jewelry, but the weight of his gaze makes it impossible to do anything. He’s in full control of the room without even trying, and when he leans back slightly, one arm keeping him up and one running a hand along his thigh, you know exactly where this is going.

“You weren’t planning on coming,” you say, reminding him as you fasten a gold necklace around your neck, one he had bought you for your birthday. 

Jay hums in agreement, rubbing his jaw, his fingers grazing his bottom lip. “Changed my mind.” 

You raise a brow at him through the mirror, amusement and knowingness dancing in your expression. “Oh? And why’s that?” 

His tongue swipes across his lip again before he finally stands, closing the space between you in a few strides. His hands find your waist, fingers grazing the bare skin between your top and skirt, pulling you in just enough to feel the heat radiating off his body. 

“Because,” he says, his lips brushing just over the shell of your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “There’s no way in hell I’d miss seeing you in this little outfit.” 

Your fingers play with the strings of your top, struggling to breathe for a moment before you meet his eyes in the mirror, the heat of his body seeping into yours. His scent wraps around you like a second skin and you breathe him in. 

“Hook this for me?” You ask him, voice softer now, laced with something breathless. You push your hair to one side, exposing your semi-bare back to him.

Jay exhales through his nose, a quiet but familiar sound, but you hear the way his breath stutters slightly. His hands find your back, warm and steady as he sliders the clasp into place. His touch lingers, fingers grazing along the curve of your spine before trailing lower, skimming over the exposed skin above your skirt. 

“Are you doing this on purpose or am I losing mind?” His voice is rough, strained.

You bite your bottom lip, suppressing a smirk, but before you can say anything, his hands tighten on your waist, pulling you back until your spine meets his chest. You gasp, just slightly, but he catches it, revels in it. 

“Missed you, baby,” he breathes, pressing a slow, open-mouthed kiss just behind your ear. “I’m sorry I’ve been so fucking busy. Haven’t had a second to touch you.” 

His words send a shiver down your spine but settle your heart. You had been busy too, but you were still home sooner than him and he knew it. His hands start to roam, slow, pressing, like he’s relearning every inch of you. The tension between you both becomes suffocating. He palms your hips, thumbs pressing into the dip of your waist before sliding down over your thighs, gripping at the soft flesh. 

Before you can react, he moves.

In one smooth motion, he forces you to step back with him, turning you, and pulls you down onto his lap, your back flush against his chest. His hands find their place again, gripping, kneading, taking his time. You feel him everywhere. The heat, the need, the way he’s been holding back for days. 

You press your hands against his thighs, fingers curling into the fabric of his dress pants. Your head falls back just as his hands inch towards your breasts. Your mouth feels dry and there’s heat pooling in your stomach. 

With one firm movement, he lifts you slightly, maneuvering you off his lap and onto the bed, your ass hitting the plush covers. A small whimper escapes your mouth, so incredibly turned on by his sheer strength, the way his entire body reacts to you. Just as you blink away the need that clouds your eyes, Jay sinks down to his knees in front of you, his hands slowly trailing down your thighs as he looks up at you, spreading your legs so he slots himself between them. 

Your breath hitches. “Jay–” There’s need in your voice, clear as day, and he smiles at you sweetly, a dark contrast with the blistering heat in his eyes. 

His fingers press into your thighs as his lips ghost over the inside of your knee. “Please?” 

You wet your lips and almost nod, but just as his lips press against the skin of your knee, you inched your foot up and pressed it against his chest, pushing him back. He looks up at you with bright eyes. 

“I don’t wanna be late, Jay. If you’re coming with me then you need to change.” You cup his cheek and stand, sliding your hand into his hair and patting his head. You brush your calf against him as you walk back into the vanity, picking up your rings. 

You watch him through the mirror, the way his shoulders drop and he exhales a long breath. He pushes himself up and glances at you, unbuttoning his shirt. His smile is sharp, borderline threatening. 

“Whatever you say, princess.” 

The city lights blur past in neon streaks as Jay drives, one hand gripping the wheel while the other rests on your bare thigh. His fingers flex every so often, tightening slightly, like he’s reminding himself that you’re right there. That he can touch, but only so much. 

He knows the game you’re playing. He knows you're teasing him, testing him, simply riling him up so when he does taste you, when he does slide into you, you’ll understand how much he misses you, how much he loves you. 

You shift, crossing your legs deliberately, your skirt riding up just enough to make his grip tighten. Just because he knows what you’re doing and that he accepts it, it doesn’t mean it doesn’t effect him. He’s losing his mind.

He doesn’t look at you, just clenches his jaw, the muscle feathering under his skin as his fingers press into your thigh. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” he mutters, voice low and dark. 

You hum, leaning slightly towards him. “Maybe.”

Jay exhales a loud breath, adjusting his grip on the wheel, but you see the way his knuckles whiten. He still wants to be here with you, still wants to play along, even as frustration simmers just beneath the surface. He’s not sure how long he can last. 

When he finally pulls into the club’s parking lot, the tension between you is thick, electric. The second the car is in park, Jay shakes his head, lips twitching in amusement. “You’re a menace.”

Instead of answering him, you lean forward and press a soft kiss to the edge of his lips. “I’m glad you’re here, Jay.” 

His eyes and exterior soften and he lifts his hand, resting it gently on your cheek. He brushes the skin under your eyes lightly, afraid he might mess up your makeup, and guides your lips to his. 

The kiss is soft, his pink lips moving against your glossy ones. He pulls away too quickly, like he’s afraid he won’t be able to stop if it continues. “Me too, baby.” 

The moment you step inside, the club’s atmosphere crashes into you–thich bass pounding through the floor, music loud enough to drown out every other sound. The air is heavy with heat, bodies moving in sync, the scent of liquor and perfume mixing together in a way that makes your head spin. 

You’re glad you’re busy enough to only accept a few invitations a month, if that. The club scene isn’t one you love, but it is nice once in a while. 

Jay moves behind you, a steady presence as you weave through the packed space. His hand finds your lower back, warm and firm as he presses against you, guiding you through the throng of bodies towards the bar, where your friends are waiting. 

Jake and Sunghoon spot you first, both grinning as you approach. Jake pulls you into a quick hug as Sunghoon slaps Jay on the back, teasing him about his new promotion. Letting you go, Sunghoon pulls you into a quick hug and only frowns when you mess up his hair a bit. Jake has his arm around Jay’s shoulder, a bright smile on his face. 

“Glad you could make it, dude,” Sunghoon says, a small smile on his face. “It’s been a while.” 

You watch as Jay’s shoulders relax, as the music enters his skin and the stress melts from his body. His smile is genuine and your heart flutters at the sight. “Thanks, man.” 

Before you can say anything, Jay leans in, Jake’s arm dropping, his lips brushing against your ear, voice thick and warm against your skin. “I’ll get our drinks,” he murmurs, his hand giving your waist one last squeeze before he pulls away. 

You nod, barely getting the chance to respond before Giselle suddenly appears, grabbing your wrist with a bright, excited grin. “Y/n! You’re here! Come on,” she shouts over the music, eyes gleaming. “We’re dancing.” 

You only have enough time to toss Jake your purse before she’s pulling you into the sweaty crowd. She pushes through bodies with her elbows until she reaches Karina, shouting your arrival. Karina pulls you into a quick hug and immediately starts swaying her hips.

The music takes over, and soon, you’re moving, letting go. The bass pulses in your chest, and the rhythm controls your every step. Giselle laughs, spinning you, before pulling your hips against hers. Karina quickly finds someone that captures her attention but stays close. You three are completely lost in the music. 

And you don’t notice Jay watching. 

He stands by the bar, drink in hand, but his gaze is locked onto you, his grip tightening around his glass as he slowly brings it to his lips. The club’s neon lights flicker across his sharp features, highlighting the way his eyes darken as he watches you move. 

It’s like you’re completely unaware of the effect you have on him. But he knows that you know. 

Jake and Sunghoon notice. Jake nudges Sunghoon, tilting his head towards Jay. “Dude, look at him.” 

Sunghoon raises a brow. “Oh, he’s completely whipped.” They both snicker, knowing what he would have said if he had heard their conversation. 

Jay doesn’t even register them. 

Because you’ve just caught his gaze. 

And you smile.

It’s subtle, enticing, but it’s enough. His jaw flexes again and before he can think twice, he throws back the rest of his drink, setting the empty glass down with finality. 

To Jake and Sunghoon’s shock, Jay moves. He mutters something about your drink, how he’ll buy you a new one, and moves through the crowd, through the flashing lights and moving bodies, straight to you.

You don’t notice at first, not until you feel the warmth of his hands, strong and sure, as they find your hips from behind. You can recognize him by touch alone and a sharp inhale catches in your throat as he pulls you back against him, pressing close, the heat of his body settling against yours. 

“You’re fucking killing me here, princess.” His voice is low, right against your ear, thick with amusement and something darker. 

You smile, pressing yourself into him as you roll your hips in time with the music. “Took you long enough.” 

He laughs quietly, fingers tightening around you. You bring your hand to his neck as he moves against you, not as smooth, but still to the beat. He’s pushing your back flush against his chest and when your ass perfectly brushes against his hard-on, his hips jerk into you. 

Gasping, you spin in his arms, needing to look at him, needing to watch the way his eyes dance with different emotions, so much more expressive than the rest of him. You wrap your arms around his neck as he slots one of his legs in between yours. 

He’s guiding your hips back and forth, finding his own rhythm. His jean-clad thigh brushes closely against your pussy and your eyes flutter shut at the feeling. He watches you carefully, taking in every single twitch of muscle and movement. His grin widens when you start playing with the hair at his nape, pulling him closer, until your lips are just shy of touching. His breath is heavy, warm against your mouth, and his eyes make your stomach clench in want. 

His hands slide lower, fingers splaying over the small of your back before he drags them down your ass, squeezing once. Your head falls into the crook of his neck and the friction, the heat, its dizzying, almost too much, but not enough all at once. 

“You’re driving me fucking crazy, Y/n. You know that?”His thumb dips below your skirt and massages the skin there. His breath is hot against your ear as he angles his body, making sure his dick rubs right against your pussy. “Bet you’re just as wet for me as I am for you.”

He nibbles on your ear, dragging his tongue across the lobe. 

You tilt your head up, eyes glazed. You knew what you were getting into when you pushed Jay away back home, but you didn’t think he’d let you continue your little game. You should have known better. Here you were, underwear almost ruined as he nips and licks your skin. 

He uses one of his hands to lift you a little higher, presses you harder against him as his fingers graze the skin of your inner thigh. “Will you let me check, baby?” His voice is sinful, borderline gravel. 

You can only nod, too buzzed by the music and his scent, the heat of his body, to answer him. You knew if you opened your mouth, you’d moan out his name and you had some shame. Even without any alcohol, your mind was hazy, overcome by lust and desire. 

Jay smirks against your head as you continue to grind against him. There’s so many bodies pressed up against you both but he only cares about you, about the way your nails dig into his scalp as his fingers inch closer to your heat. 

He can feel the slight stickiness before he reaches your cunt and he bites back a groan. Here he was, losing his mind, and you were dripping for him on a dance floor. Matching your pace, he waits until your hips press against his pelvis and then he brushes his index finger against your underwear, eyes rolling into the back of his at how wet you are. 

He does it once more, arm tightening around you as your legs shake. He doesn’t press hard enough to offer you any relief, simply brushes against it featherly, but it's enough to coat both his fingers.

He removes his hand, dropping your skirt before lifting it to his mouth. You watch him with wide eyes, a sight to behold. He looks so sinful, lips curved into a devilish smile as the lights bounce on his sweaty skin. 

His arm is still around your waist as he lowers his slick coated fingers to your lips, a full blown smile spreading on his face when you tilted your head, mouth parting in invitation. He touches your bottom lip with his fingers before sticking them in his mouth. His eyes flutter at the taste and you watch with dazed amazement as he sucks his fingers clean, eyes hooded as they stare you down. 

You can’t help the small whimper that leaves your mouth and it has Jay surging forward, capturing your lips with his. His lips move roughly against yours, nothing like the sweet kiss you shared in the car. He licks your bottom lip and slips his tongue into your mouth, swallowing your groan as you taste yourself on his tongue. 

He cups your cheeks and deepens the kiss, not a single thought in his head besides you and how much he loves you and all the things he’d like to do to you. You nip at his lips before kissing down his throat. Squeezing his eyes shut, he tries to keep still as you suck on his skin. When you lick his skin once more, he knows he’s had enough.  

Threading his fingers into your hair, he pulls as gently as he can to pull you away from his skin. You look up at him with plump lips, covered in spit, eyes wide and blinking. He tilts your head and kisses you once before his lips are pressed against your ears. 

“Please, princess, let’s go home. Let me take care of you properly.” Despite the desire that drips from his words, you hear the plea, the need. He’s never, not once, let things get this far before he’s made you cum on his tongue. 

Hurriedly, you nod at him, your own need evident in the way you clutch his shirt. “Yes, okay, let’s go.” Hand still on the neck of his shirt, you step into the crowd but he tugs you back, arm wrapping around you. 

“What about your friends?” His eyebrows are furrowed and you have no idea how he’s thinking about anything that isn’t your pussy or his dick but your eyes soften and you pat his cheek. 

“I’ll text them.” You clear your throat, trying to look as composed as Jay. “Though, they can probably guess.” Eyes raking over him, you take back your words. He doesn’t look composed, not at all. His hair is slightly messy and his thin sweater is all rumpled. 

“Okay, baby,” he says, taking a step forward and guiding you through the sea of bodies, hand in hand. He doesn’t spare Jake and Sunghoon a single look as he pulls his keys out of his jeans. 

Hiding a bright smile, Jake tosses your purse to you and you simply wave, too embarrassed to look them in the eye. Jay rests his hand on your lower back as he guides you out of the club and outside, taking your purse with his other hand. 

Once you get to his car, he looks down at you and there’s a wicked glint in his eyes. He unlocks the car before he places the keys in your hand. You look up at him in question and he shrugs as he opens the driver door for you. 

“I’m drunk.” He states, simply, eyes ablaze. 

You clutch the keys tightly, already coming to terms with his plan. “You had one drink, Jay.” 

He smiles at you, dimple forming. He leans against the car, arms crossed. You swallow, breathing heavily. Under the moonlight, he’s glowing. He looks so handsome, so fucking beautiful and you’re about to lose your mind. 

“There’s still alcohol in my system, baby. Can’t risk your safety, can I?” His words are sweet, but with the way he tilts his head, licking his lips, you know that your safety isn’t the only thing on his mind. 

When your shoulders drop in defeat, he pushes off the door and raises an eyebrow at you. Sighing, you quickly made it to the drivers side and sat in, trying to adjust your skirt. Jay leans down and grabs the seatbelt, face close as he buckles you up. The faint click rings in your ear when his eyes meet yours and before you can lean over and kiss him, he moves back and gently shuts your door. 

You blink at the space he just occupied before taking in a deep breath. It was only a ten minute drive. You could do this. All you had to do was ignore him and the wetness between your legs and then you’d beg him to fuck you. 

Jay slides into the passenger seat and clicks his seatbelt into place. He watches you out of his peripheral vision as you start the car and pull out. He watches the way your throat bobs and your fingers shake on the wheel. 

He pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue to suppress an amused laugh. You look the way he looked driving here. A small, miniscule part of Jay reveled in it. In the way you kept squeezing your thighs shut, glancing at the rearview mirror when you had the urge to look at him. 

“You okay there, baby?” Jay sounds genuine and you know he is, he always is, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t a twinge of mockery in it. 

“Just perfect,” you grit out, turning at the light. 

“Yeah?” He rests his hand on your thigh, an innocent enough gesture if you hadn’t just almost cummed on his fingers in the club. His thumb starts rubbing your skin and you exhale sharply, trying your best to focus on the road. 

His fingers inch towards your heat slowly and you unconsciously spread your legs, skirt hiking up even further. He smiles at the way your body responds to him and grazes his nails close to your cunt. 

“Jay,” you whisper, a bit broken and a bit out of breath. “Please.” You meet his eye for less than a second before gripping the wheel harder, eyes back on the road. 

He leans back in the passenger seat, legs spread. His bulge is incredibly noticeable and it’s taking everything in you not to acknowledge it. His index finger brushes against the soaked and thin fabric and he tsks. “Are you dripping all over my seats, Y/n?” 

You don’t respond and he chuckles, eyes bright. He uses two fingers and slides them across your covered lips, eyes zeroing on the arousal that has soaked your underwear and slowly drips onto his seats. Your legs shake and he presses the palm of his hand into your thigh, keeping you still. 

“Focus on the road,” he murmurs, voice low but curt. It has you squirming but you listen anyways, gripping onto the steering wheel for dear life. 

Slowly, Jay uses his middle finger and hooks your underwear to the side. It’s sticky and ruined and he’ll definitely be pocketing them later, but for now, they’re in the way. He slides his middle finger between your folds, back and forth, mesmerized, before he watches your greedy cunt swallow up his long, bony finger to the knuckle. 

Your entire body jerks forward and a breathy moan escapes your lips, eyes fluttering at the first intrusion into your pussy in days. You’re gasping as Jay slides his finger in and out of your pussy slowly before curling it, pressing just enough pressure to have you leak arousal all over his hand and leather seats. 

Just as he picks up the pace and you almost swerve the car, he pulls out and you yell, tears of frustration on your lash line. He presses on your clit once, grinning ear to ear at the moan that rips out of you. 

He pulls his hand away completely and sticks his finger into his mouth, staring at the side of your head the entire time. He makes sure to make a show out of it, swirling his tongue around just like he would in your cunt, purposefully being noisy. 

You’re shaking, legs trembling as you turn onto your street. The sight of your apartment is enough to have you press down on the gas, not caring about the speed limit or how Jay sighs at your behaviour. 

“Watch your speed, baby. There’s cops on this street.”

He leans closer to you, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear, fingers brushing against the shell of your ear.

“You’re so fucking mean,” you whisper, voice broken and hoarse. You’re not really thinking as you say it, more focused on pulling into your designated spot without crying or cumming. 

Jay simply raises an eyebrow at your words, a slow smirk pulling at his lips. “Am I?” 

Your heart jumps at his words and you put the car in park. You keep your eyes forward when both of your words registar in your mind and your head snaps to look at him, an apology on the tip of your tongue but he’s already out the door.

You watch helplessly as he rounds the car and opens your door. You say nothing as he undoes your seatbelt and gingerly pulls you out of your seat. You try to ignore the way your thighs stick to the seat or the sheen you leave behind, focusing on Jay’s hand wrapped tightly around yours. 

Wordlessly, he gently guides you inside your building, still holding your purse with that small smile on his face. You look up at him and he looks down at you as you wait for the elevator. You part your lips, ready to apologize, when the doors open and he pulls you in. 

Pressing the button to your floor, he leans against the elevator wall, still holding your hand. You look down at your joined hands, at how soothing it feels to have his strong, slightly calloused hand in yours. Jay watches you, a softer smile on his lips when you bring your joined hands to your lips and kiss his knuckles. 

It says everything you haven’t yet. 

Following your lead, before you can drop your hands, he lifts them to his mouth and kisses your knuckles, eyes staring directly into yours. Then, he kisses the back of your hand before slowly dropping them, eyes focusing on the elevator doors again. 

You swallow the lump in your throat and press yourself into his side. If he wasn’t mean earlier, he definitely will be later. You purse your lips, want and desire leaking out of you, dripping down your legs. 

Finally, the elevator dings open and he’s pulling you towards your apartment, footsteps fast as you try to match his pace. When your door comes into sight you have the urge to fall to your knees and beg Jay for forgiveness. He unlocks the door slowly, turning the key like he has all the time in the world and you unconsciously squeeze his hand in anticipation. 

He pushes the door open and you stop breathing, mouth going dry. He doesn’t turn to look at you as he guides you into your home. You watch as he sets your purse on the little table, along with the keys and his wallet. 

“Jay, baby, I’m–” He cuts you off by turning quickly and slamming his lips against yours, pushing you into the door, a hand on the back of your hand and hip. He swallows your gasp of surprise and kisses you ferociously, pressing his chest against yours. 

You wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him back just as messily, teeth against teeth. He slips his tongue into your mouth and you clutch at his hair. He sucks on your tongue as he fits his leg between yours, his thigh once again, rubbing against your pussy. 

You can barely breathe but you kiss him deeply, head falling back when he pulls away and begins kissing down your neck, nibbling and licking down your throat, hand unclasping your top and pulling it off of you, only pulling away to pull it off your head. His lips reattach to your neck and he kisses down to your collarbone, biting down on your skin. Your hands tighten in his hair and his grip on your hip becomes bruising. 

You grind on his knee, moaning at the friction. Jay kisses up your neck before capturing your lips in another hated, messy kiss. His hand travels up your body and he slightly presses down on your throat sucking on your tongue before pulling away.

“I wanted to be mean. Show you how mean I really could be,” he pants into your mouth, lips hovering over your swollen, bruised ones. His thigh rubs against your pussy and you whimper, eyes opening. He presses a soft kiss on your forehead before brushing his nose against yours.

“But I missed you, baby. I’ll take care of you, yeah?” His voice is soft, loving, unmistakingly ridden with lust. He begins kissing down your body again, pressing wet, open mouthed kisses to the skin above your collarbone before he unclasps your bralette, tossing it on the floor. 

His lips hover over the skin between your breasts and his eyes flicker up, meeting your dazed ones. “Did you miss me, princess?” 

There’s tears in your eyes as you nod, sniffling from the overwhelming urge to cum and bare yourself open to him. “Yes, Jay, Gosh, I missed you so much.” 

He smiles at you before kissing your skin, licking and sucking, swallowing the sweet taste of your sweat and vanilla. You were a mess above him, head thrown back and eyes sewn shut, incoherent mumbles and whimpers leaving your lips as you pull and scrape his hair at the nape of his neck. Your entire body is on fire. 

Jay presses a soft kiss on one of your breasts, his fingers brushing the nipple of the other. He kitten-licks the aching bud before latching on, sucking and circling his tongue. His other hand pinches the other nipple before he latches onto that one. He jerks his leg upwards to give you more friction and you’re overwhelmed, almost to the point of hysteria and tears. You can feel your orgasm building up and you mutter something to him, something incoherent, but he knows. 

Sinking to his knees, Jay looks up at you and you don’t even notice the bit of drool that drips down your chin. Your knees buckle at the look he gives you before he slowly pulls down your skirt and underwear, tantalizing and slow. 

He lets the skirt drop and you step out of it. He stares at your dripping, glistening pussy with a hunger you don’t normally see. He wets his lips as his eyes darken completely and he surges forward and buries his face in between your thighs, nosing your clit. Your head hits the door when he inhales, almost crying out when he presses a wet kiss to your pussy. 

He spreads your legs even further, gets impossibly closer. His nose brushes against your slick folds. “Fuck, you’re perfect. Prettiest pussy in the world, princess.” The vibrations of his words went straight to your core and you whine. 

You pull at Jay’s hair and he moans as he licks a harsh stripe of your core. You arch your back at the feeling and he presses his face closer to your cunt as his tongue pushes in and out of your sopping hole, licking and sucking loudly. He drags his tongue along your pussy, holding your hips still as he sucks on your clit. 

The tears in your eyes become heavier as he presses his nose against your clit and you moan out a broken, whiny version of his name as he laps up all your juice. The sounds he makes, the slurping and lip smacking has your legs shaking and you feel the tightness in your stomach, the orgasm that’s been building. 

He curls the tip of his tongue upwards and you almost scream, tears falling down your cheeks at the sheer pressure of pleasure. “Yes, Jay, yes” you chant, not caring about who hears you. You begin feverishly moving your hips against his face and Jay grants into your cunt, making your insides vibrate. Your legs are pulsing and your walls clench around his tongue and he knows you're close. 

Using one of his hands, he spreads your folds open wider and licks you even harsher, teasing your clit with his nose as he fucked his tongue into you. “Oh, Jay–” Your vision blurs as you moan, loud and broken, your stomach uncoiling as your orgasm washes over you and you gush all over Jay’s face. 

He hums in pleasure as he continues to push his tongue into your pussy, greedily swallowing your juices. He licks and sucks until your legs begin to shake and you pull at his hair harshly, trying to pry him off you. You’re mumbling something, a string of sentences neither of you can decipher as he slows his tongue, kissing your cunt once. 

You glance down at him and your legs buckle at the sight of him; eyes wide and hair wild as your cum and slick coats his face, his sun-kissed skin glowing with sweat as he smiles at you with swollen lips. 

He licks the skin around your pussy, cleaning you up a bit and then kisses up your thighs. You thread your fingers into his hair and tug, he stands slowly and you pull his face to yours. His eyes rake over you, grinding slowly at the fucked out look on your face, the tears staning your cheeks, swollen lips, and wide pupils. 

You tilt your head and kiss him, pressing your lips flush against his, licking his bottom lip, slipping your tongue into his mouth. You groan into his mouth as you taste yourself on his tongue. He deepens the kiss, holding your trembling legs up as you quickly pull his top over his head, working on undoing his belt. 

You pull away from his lips and kiss down his throat, licking and sucking his skin. His hands work to undo his belt and his breath hitches when you kiss his adam’s apple, licking a long stripe of his neck. “Fuck, baby.” 

He pulls the belt off, throwing it somewhere and undoes his jeans as you lick and bite his collarbones. He slides his jeans off, stepping out of them as you work your way up his neck. He wraps one hand around his hard, leaking cock and slides up and down once. 

“Still okay, love?” Jay kisses your cheek, concern in his eyes. You kiss his chest and wrap your hand around his, squeezing the base of his cock, eyes widening when his entire body shudders. 

“Fuck me, baby.” Your thumb brushes against his pink, leaking tip. “Need you so bad.” 

Jay swallows and brushes the back of his hand against your cheek before he presses you into the door and slides his hand under your thigh before lifting your leg, urging you to wrap it around his waist. 

Exhaling, Jay grips his cock and lines up with your entrance. The soft scrape of his tip against your pussy makes you both groan and he slowly pushes himself in. The satisfying tightening and burn of his veins against your gummy walls make you both moan in unison and his head falls into the crook of your neck as your pussy swallows his dick. 

“Fuck,” he groans against your skin. “Fuck, baby, feels so good.” You press a soft kiss to his neck and he jerks his hips upwards, filling you to the brim. He kneads the flesh of your ass before he grips your hips tightly and thrusts in you. 

He begins fucking into you at an unsteady pace, your jaw going slack from pleasure as his tip presses against your cervix, making your eyes roll back. You could feel every vein bulging against your walls as he pounds into you, your hands clawing at his back as his pace becomes rougher. 

He sucks the skin of your neck, licking as he bites into your skin sharply, almost breaking skin, and you whimper loudly, tugging his hair. He hips have a mind of their own as he fucks into you roughly, bringing you both closer to your release, abdomens twisting and churning.  

Your walls squeeze around his cock and desperation claws at him as he thrusts erratically and he pushes your body flush against his, forcing your hips to match his bruising pace as more slick poured from your cunt, down his legs, your needy moans mixing with his broken ones. 

“I’m, oh, close–” you stutter out, eyes fluttering shut as Jay’s fingers brush against your clit. Your walls squeeze around him again and he feels the euphoria build in his chest. Stars dance around your eyes as he tilts his head and presses his lips against yours, mumbling against your lips. 

“Cum for me, baby. Please, cum all over my cock,” his voice was desperate, sweet. 

He thrusts into you a few more times and your eyes roll into the back of your head as you come undone for him, falling limp against him as your legs shake. Jay’s hands are all over your body, caressing your skin and mumbling sweet nothings to you. 

His lips press soft kisses to your skin as you coat his dick in your cum, thrusting into you once more as warm ropes of his cum fill you up. He mumbles your name like a prayer as he continues to kiss you, continues to cum, filling you up. He’s hips are still moving slowly against yours as he fucks his cum into you, whispering quiet praises of love against your skin.

Your entire body is shaking and you can barely feel your legs and Jay slides both of his hands under your thighs before lifting you up, your legs wrapping around him securely as his dick twitches inside your sopping cunt. 

When your eyes meet, he parts his lips to tell you he loves you, but you pull him into a burning kiss, tongues and teeth clashing. You moan into his mouth at the intimacy of it all–the way his cock is still buried inside you, the way your mixed juices leak out of you and down his legs, the gentle caress of his hands as he whispers loving praises into your mouth. 

You pull away and your lips curve into a smile at the way Jay’s lips glisten, at the way he keeps his eyes shut for a moment longer before his eyes meet yours. You’re both sweating, panting, ignoring the fact that your neighbors definitely heard you. He smiles at you and you brush the hair sticking to his forehead. 

“I love you, Jay.” 

His eyes soften considerably and he presses his forehead against yours, nose brushing yours before he smiles. “And I love you, baby.” 

You cup his cheek and a wicked, insatiable glint enters your eyes and Jay’s cock twitches inside you, making you both hum. You tilt your head and smile at him widely before grinding your hips against his, pulling a groan out of him. 

“Now,” you press a kiss against his jaw. “Fuck me on the bed.” 

Jay’s already moving to your shared bedroom, making sure to walk slowly as his cock slides in and out of you at the movement. He presses a soft kiss to your cheek.

“As you wish, princess.” 

[hanniebaeee]

Jisung's Baby Fever

Jisung x fem!reader

Warnings: suggestive? MDNI

Genre: established relationship, fluff

Summary: You and Jisung are out at the beach, and witnessing a certain interaction has Jisung experiencing a wild case of baby fever.

It was a beautiful day. Sunny and warm - and Jisung had a free day in forever, so you two were at the beach. The sand was warm beneath your knees as you smoothed out the walls of the sandcastle.

A little moat encircled the castle, complete with a small bridge made from a piece of driftwood you found earlier.

"Masterpiece," you muttered to yourself as you leaned back to admire your work. 

Jisung sat on a beach towel, sunglasses perched low on his nose as he watched you, strumming his guitar. 

"Masterpiece? Sure," he teased, a smirk pulling at his lips.

You shot him a glare over your shoulder. "Don’t insult the castle you didn't lift a single finger to help build."

"I’m supervising, and providing the background score," he quipped, strumming the guitar harder. "You’re welcome."

He put his guitar aside with a grin and laid back, his arms folded under his head. 

Before you could fire back, a tiny voice interrupted, "Can I help?"

You looked down to see a little girl, no older than three, clutching a bright pink bucket and looking up at you with wide, hopeful eyes. Her mum waved from a beach towel nearby, giving you an apologetic look. 

"Of course you can!" you said warmly, giving her mum a thumbs up, and shifting over to make room. "Here, you can be in charge of the turrets."

The girl giggled happily and announced that her name is Mina, plopping down beside you and immediately getting to work. Her enthusiasm was contagious, and soon the two of you were modifying the castle. You helped her scoop wet sand into her bucket, and look for shells and other things for decoration. Mina squealed in joy as you showed her some sea glass and you both got back to your castle, giggling. 

Jisung propped himself on one elbow as he watched the scene unfold. Ok. Wow. What's going on?

His heart twisted in ways he hadn’t expected. The sight of you laughing with the little girl, doing something as simple as building a sandcastle, hit him hard. He watched in silence for a good fifteen minutes.

“Look at her, Sungie!” You said, with a little laugh, watching the little one put shells on the castle.

"She’s adorable," Jisung said, his voice tinged with something you couldn’t quite place. "But, uh... I think it’s time to go home."

"Already? We just got here." You frowned.

He ran a hand through his hair, visibly flustered.

"Yeah, well, I’m... feeling some things. And it’s kinda a lot." He said, grabbing his guitar because he needed to ground himself. 

“Feeling things? What things?” You asked, eyebrows raised. 

"It means I’m looking at you playing mom over here, and it’s doing things to me," he said, his voice dropping slightly. "Like, maybe-we-should-make-one-of-our-own kind of things."

Your eyes went wide as you said, "I’m sorry. What?!"

"I’m just saying. You’re over here building castles with babies, and now I’m thinking about babies. Specifically ours." Jisung shrugged, trying and failing to appear nonchalant.

"Han Jisung!" you hissed, glancing at the Mina, who was too engrossed in her work to notice. "You can’t just say stuff like that!"

"Why not? You’re the one who started this," he teased, leaning in closer. "This is all your fault."

You huffed, turning back to the castle to hide the blush creeping up your neck. "I’m not abandoning my new bestie just because you’re having an existential crisis."

"Existential crisis?" he repeated, feigning offense. "I’ll have you know this is a perfectly rational reaction to seeing my insanely hot wife being ridiculously good with kids."

"Goodbye, Jisung," you said flatly, refusing to look at him.

"Fine," he said, standing and brushing off the sand. "If you won’t come willingly..."

Jisung looked over at the girl's mum and said, “Your little girl is amazing, she's such a joy!”

And the lady smiled, thanking him. And he said, “We're kinda heading back, so -”

You glared at him as he made small talk with Mina's mum as she came over, and then she thanked you for playing with her daughter. 

You gave Mina a little high five before helping Jisung gather your things with a stony expression. He could see that you were miffed as you followed him really slow. When you two were a safe distance away from the family, Jisung struck.

You barely had time to process what he was doing before he scooped you up in his arms.

"Jisung!" you squealed, wriggling as he started walking toward the car. "Put me down!"

"Not a chance," he said, grinning. "You're slacking."

“Jisung, I swear to God!”

"You’re gonna thank me later, babe. Promise." Jisung chuckled, tightening his hold on you.

"I don't even know what to do with you," you grumbled, though you couldn’t fight the smile tugging at your lips.

"You love it," he shot back, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead. "Now let’s go. We’ve got a baby to plan."

“Oh my God! You can't just-”

He interrupted you by popping open the back door loudly and set you down gently on the seat.

"Okay, thanks for the ride. You can go now," you said, crossing your arms in mock indignation.

But instead of shutting the door and heading to the driver’s seat, Jisung climbed in after you, closing the door behind him.

"What are you doing?" You gave him a suspicious look. 

"I think you need some convincing," he said matter-of-factly, settling in beside you.

"Convincing me of what?”

"That we need to fast-track this whole ‘baby’ thing. Like, today."

"Have you lost your mind, Ji?" You asked with a soft laugh. 

"Probably," he admitted, leaning in closer with a grin. "But can you blame me? You were out there looking all cute and mom-like, and now my brain won’t shut up about how amazing you’d look holding our baby. You’re doing this to me, babe. This is your fault."

"Oh really?" you asked, trying to keep a straight face as he edged even closer.

"Listen," he said, his voice dipping lower as his gaze locked onto yours. "I’m serious. I was sitting there, minding my own business, and then suddenly, bam - baby fever. And it’s bad, babe. Real bad."

You laughed, shaking your head. "You are ridiculous."

"You should see yourself through my eyes right now. You’re beautiful, you’re amazing with kids, and you’re mine. And I’m just sitting here wondering how I got this lucky and how fast I can get you to come home with me."

His words made your heart do a funny little flip, even as you tried to keep things light.

"Jisung, you can’t just throw around words like that and expect me to go with it."

"Ahh babe," he murmured, leaning in until his nose was almost brushing yours. "I just need you to kiss me and admit that I’m right."

"Right about what?" you asked, your voice a teasing whisper.

"Right about us," he said softly, his hand coming up to gently cup your cheek. "Right about how we’d be amazing parents. Right about how we’re meant to be going home and working on the baby making right now."

You didn’t have a clever comeback for that. Instead, your heart thudded loudly in your chest as he closed the small gap between you, his lips brushing against yours.

The kiss was soft at first, almost tentative, but it quickly deepened as his hand moved to the back of your neck, pulling you closer. His other hand rested on your waist, anchoring you to him.

When you finally pulled back, breathless, he rested his forehead against yours, a triumphant smirk tugging at his lips.

"So," he said, his voice low and teasing. "Are you convinced yet? Or do I need to keep going?"

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t hide your smile. "You’re impossible."

"I think you mean irresistible," he countered, leaning in for another kiss. "Now, how about we head home and make some magic happen?"

You laughed, pushing him away playfully. "You’re lucky I love you, Han Jisung. But fine. Let’s go."

"That’s my girl," he said, pulling you close one last time before climbing out of the back seat to let you take the wheel.

And as you settled in for the ride, you couldn’t help but think that maybe, he was right.

Divider: @saradika-graphics

Tags: @moonchild9350 @velvetmoonlght @eastjonowhere @pixie-felix @sailor--sun @chancloud8 @captainchrisstan @hansmic @emilyywhyy @inlovewithstraykids @my-neurodivergent-world @nightmarenyxx @channie4lifeee143127 @lezleeferguson-120

[qqueenofhades]

Gotta say, it's heartening to see just how terrible a time these GOP chucklefucks are having. This administration and its cronies are even MORE disastrously incompetent than last time, and that's saying something. Yeah, the next several years are still gonna suck, but at least we can laugh at these shit-for-brains assholes continuing to run head-first into the brick wall of their own incompetence. And perhaps even prevent the worst outcomes.

Honestly, the biggest fear for everyone was that giving the fascists four more years to plan and actually write down all of Project 2025 would mean that they were focused, competent, stone cold driven, ready to actually work to change things for real, and otherwise buckle down and be -- well, if not something approaching competent, at least effective. Or the fear that the American public, being fickle and underinformed at the best of times, would just sit back and let them do it. Because, yknow. Half this godforsaken country did just somehow shrug and vote for the orange monster again, so.

But that said, as I pointed out earlier today, it IS fucking heartening to see that they're the same mean, stupid, chaotic shitbags as ever, they really decided to go for the shock-and-awe LOL WATCH US BLOW EVERYTHING UP!!! approach that has gotten them nothing except turbo-sued and enraged the entire country, they basically united the entire world against Russia and for Ukraine in literally ten minutes yesterday (hope you enjoyed that little clown show, Vladimir!) and furthermore, nobody is afraid of them, which is death to fascists. I often point out that fascists desperately want people to be afraid of them and think they're cool, competent, unstoppable, and suave. They also especially, incredibly, desperately hate being laughed at and mocked. They can't stand it.

As such, the fact that they're just the same as ever except worse, and are not magically more competent (in fact, much worse) and are their own worst enemies, does in fact bode well for our ultimate ability to get through this. They will break shit, they will needlessly alienate friends and allies, they will torment every vulnerable group they can just to be dicks, and all of this was just so avoidable... but. Nobody likes them for it, even the people who deluded themselves into voting for them. They're scared little chickenshits who are having a bad bad time that will only get worse, especially if they actually try to cut Social Security and Medicaid, which is basically the death knell of stupid things to do in American politics. Because they just can't help themselves, but this is really, REALLY not going to work out well for them. It just won't.

As such, when they're already running from the heat ONE MONTH into the Glorious Eternal Rule of King Donald, like the little pissbabies they are, it tells me that there is literally no way they're gonna manage four years of this. They just aren't (and Deo volente Trump will finally have an aneurysm and die facedown in a Big Mac before 2028). To say the least, the 2026 midterms are gonna be interesting, especially if the GOP keeps digging their own grave, and yes.

As I keep saying: things are bad. They will get worse. But these miserable jabronies are just as pathetic and beatable as they have ever been, they did not suddenly get magically competent at being pointlessly evil, the country is showing out with a spirited will to make them suffer immensely for every braindead numbnuts piece of Nazi performative cruelty they attempt and often fail, and in these dark times, every day that we can fight back matters a lot. It’s working and we have gotta keep doing it. Idk about you, but I feel energized by seeing it. So yeah, say it with me:

STAY! STRONG! AND! KEEP! THEM! SCARED!

The end.

[delilahsturniolo]

— ୨୧ matt apologizes to you after an argument

contains angst, fluff.

silence filled the room as you sat on matt’s bed, with your knees tucked to your chest. your gaze was focused on your lap, as your eyes glossed over with tears. all you could even think about was matt, guilt filled your chest. you hated when someone you loved was mad at you, especially your own boyfriend. you and matt had gotten into a pretty heated argument a few hours ago about not having enough time for each other.

there was yelling, screaming, crying. it was something that’s been haunting you for the past few hours, something you just wanted to be over. matt never ever dared to yell at you, and you never wanted to argue with him in the first place. it was all just built up stress and frustration from the past few days, and you just had an outburst. matt decided to leave you alone for now, you were too upset for him to talk to you.

you sniffled, letting out a soft sob as your warm tears spilled over. you felt so fucking guilty, you hadn’t even shown matt how much you loved him in the past few days, you had been so busy and stressed out. you understood why he was angry, you just wished you could do better. as you cried to yourself, you abruptly stopped as you heard a soft knock on the door. matt.

“baby? are you in here?” matt spoke, his voice as soft as a whisper. you sniffled, wiping your tears sloppily. “yeah.” your voice broke, fuck. matt noticed this, he knew you were crying, and it devastated him. he never wanted to make you cry in the first place. “is it okay if i come in?” matt asked, you let out a small “mhm”, sitting up properly as matt entered the room.

the door slowly creaked open, matt shut it behind him after he walked in. his gaze immediately went over to you, he was no longer angry, now he just wanted to make things right, he wanted to show you how much he cared, despite the fact that he was still a little upset about earlier. matt sighed softly, sitting down on his bed in front of you. “look at me.” matt instructed, his voice softer than earlier, but still firm.

matt gently brushed a piece of your hair behind your ears as you slowly looked up at him. his heart sank at the sight of your puffy eyes and tear streaked face. “i’m sorry, i’m so sorry. i shouldn’t have yelled at you.” matt blurted out, the guilt was eating him up inside, it was unbearable. “i’m not here to hurt you, i want you to know i love you, okay?” matt gently leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your lips before pulling you into his arms. you nodded, muttering a small “i love you” as you allowed yourself to completely collapse in matt’s arms, you both knew you couldn’t stay mad at each other forever.

“i’m sorry too, i just wish i could be better for you.” you muttered, sniffling into matt’s shoulder. he only shook his head, making you lift your head up to look at him. “you’re doing amazing, honey. you didn’t do anything wrong, you’re perfect the way you are, and i love you more than anything, alright? don’t worry about it right now, you have nothing to be sorry for.” matt reassured you, you immediately felt better, realizing how much he cared for you.

matt delicately hushed you, his hand rubbing your back in circular motions as you rested your head on his shoulder. you were just tired now, so much relief filled your body. “you can sleep, sweetheart. i’ll be here.” matt hummed quietly, rocking you back and forth in his arms.

despite how bad you guys fought, you still loved each other. despite how upset matt was at you earlier, he was still madly in love with you. he was mature enough to apologize first, even though sometimes you could be stubborn after fighting, you knew matt didn’t mean anything at all. matt’s top priority as of right now was making sure you knew how much he cared about you, and how he was no longer angry with you. he loved you so much.

© delilahsturniolo do not copy, re use, or modify any of my works.

taglist

[ofbatsandballads]

have a little Jason drabble inspired by me going to my work bestie’s bachelorette party tonight. yes, yes I did imagine all this while getting ready and what about it? also consider this a part of my jason gets the girl series.

Jason Todd is a worrier. You knew that the very first night you met him when he automatically assumed that you, a woman living alone and wearing fuzzy pajamas, would be a danger to him. You know that now by his incessant questions that he’s been pelting at you for the past hour.

“You’ll keep in contact with me, right?” he asks from the other side of the shower curtain.

“Of course, Jay,” you reply as you twist like a contortionist while shaving your legs.

“I know it’s a bachelorette party, but please don’t drink so much that you don’t know what’s goin’ on around you, baby,” he says, voice raised so you can hear him over your hair dryer.

“I know, Jay. I’ve not forgotten where we live!” you shout back as reassuringly as you can.

“You sure I can’t convince ya to stay here with me?” he asks, only half joking, as you flip through the hangers in your shared closet looking for what to wear.

“You’re making a very convincing argument,” you concede as he kisses down your neck. “But no. Alas, I cannot be a shitty friend.”

“Fine. But at least wear somethin’ that goes with the jacket I got you,” he grumbles.

You laugh under your breath. This man. He’s such a worry wart. But you get it. Jason goes out every night into the belly of the beast, sees the worst of the worst. He knows what happens to vulnerable young women in this city, and you can’t blame him for his overprotective nature. So if wearing the tan leather jacket, a smaller replica of the one he wears as Red Hood, that has a tracker sewn into the interior is what he needs to ease his anxious mind, you’ll do it without complaint.

“It’s a gorgeous jacket, Jaybear. It goes with everything,” you say as you scratch soothingly at his scalp.

“You know where you’ll be tonight?” he asks from the foot of your bed, watching you as you put on your makeup.

“Uh huh. We’re not going to any bars or clubs or anything like that. Maid of honor just rented a penthouse in the Diamond District. We’ll probably spend the night eating pizza and drinking cocktails,” you answer as you try not to stab yourself in the eye with your mascara wand.

Jason makes a little grunt of agreement. You idly think that he sounds just like his dad, but you also don’t say that because you’re not a complete idiot. Also because you once told Jason he looked like Bruce and how miraculous that was since he was adopted, and he spent the next three days mumbling 'don't look anythin’ like the old man’ every time he glanced in a mirror.

You glance behind you in the vanity mirror to see the love of your life. His expression tugs your heartstrings. He looks so…melancholy. Emotions are storming in his sea green eyes and all you want is to ease his worries. You lay down your makeup brush and pad over to him, settling down in his lap. His hands come up automatically to rest on your hips, thumbs stroking over the softness.

“What’s wrong, angel?” you whisper, smoothing out the creases between his furrowed eyebrows with the tips of your fingers.

“I don’t—” he stops abruptly, tries to find the words he needs. “I’m not tryin’ to be overbearing. Don’t wanna be one of those guys that tells their girl what to do.”

He takes a breath and you stay silent. He has to get this out and you’ll wait as long as it takes.

“I just…worry. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I can’t lose you. I can’t,” and his voice breaks like stained glass. “I wouldn’t survive it. I know this is fuckin’ stupid. Me actin’ like this over a bachelorette party but I just…I can’t stop thinkin’ about all the things that could happen.”

Oh. Oh, your sweet, loving, heaven sent boyfriend. You know his past haunts him, that this city haunts him. You wish you could take all his worries away and wrap him in a nice warm blanket. You’d tuck him away from the world, keep him safe and happy and cared for all his days if you could.

“Jason, look at me,” you tilt his head up with your fingers under his jaw. “I promise you I will do everything in my power to be as safe as possible. I won’t drink irresponsibly. I’ll make sure to text you if anything, and I mean anything, starts to get weird. It won’t, but if it did you would be on speed dial. And trust me, angel, I have no intentions of staying the night.”

You don’t. Good friend or not, you can’t sleep well if you’re not wrapped in the strong arms of the man beneath you.

“So I expect you to be waiting on that tricked out bike of yours to pick me up,” you beam at him, run your hand through his hair because you know it makes him melt into your touch.

“I’ll be waitin’ for you,” he says, a solemn promise that extends far beyond tonight.

“Good. Now that being said, I will be bringing home all the dick decorations because I wanna plant them in your brother’s apartment. Just to fuck with him,” you giggle.

Jason lights up for the first time tonight. His green eyes gleam with mischief and adoration.

“Oh, you are my fuckin’ soulmate, baby. I’ll help you break in.”

[crowsofdarkness]

After weeks of arguing, you thought your relationship with Bucky was near the end. That was until you held something positive in your hand.

18+ CW's below the cut(angst, language, unprotected pinv in Bucky's computer chair, Bucky having a sudden breeding kink)

The door slamming in the small confines of my apartment echoed causing me to jump, doing whatever I could to keep the tears at bay. I wouldn't cry, not for him. Not for Bucky.  Even though the moment he walked in the door, all I wanted to do was cry not only because of the constant arguing but because I missed him terribly. He was here physically but emotionally, Bucky was checked out. 

"Asshole," I grumbled under my breath, eyes boring daggers into the closed door of his office/studio. 

It had been weeks of non stop fighting yet barely speaking to each other. He’d been gone on missions constantly so he could avoid being home. When I needed him the most, he was gone. 

Ignoring the thoughts plaguing my existence lately, I blew out a shaky breath and forced myself to turn back towards the kitchen counter.  The exhaustion had been buried deep in my bones for the last couple of weeks and I didn’t think it had anything to do with working almost every day. All I wanted to do was curl in bed to sleep the rest of the evening away. Even though Bucky's words from our fight this morning before I left for work kept pestering me. 

"I haven't thought much about the future. I'm trying to focus on getting myself better, mentally, before having kids." 

I asked him in the middle of yet another argument where he thought this relationship was going because I made the mistake of mentioning how I felt like things were stale between us. Bucky didn't think of the future. Of our future. He only thought of the now. 

It had been weeks of arguing. Weeks of walking on eggshells around each other. Weeks of not having sex. And weeks of keeping a secret to myself. Now that I knew how Bucky felt, I couldn't decide on if I should continue to keep it to myself or tell him which could potentially ruin everything. 

The urge to cry burned in my throat as I snatched the bag off of the kitchen counter and locked myself in the bathroom. I stared at my reflection in the mirror for a long moment, noting the dark circles under my eyes. 

Averting my gaze away from the mirror, I dug out the box from the bag and nearly choked on a breath when I read over the letters once more. I nearly dropped it in the pharmacy when the realization began to sink in. 

Pregnancy Test. 

I had missed my period last month and it was coming up on when I was supposed to get it this month but with how I’d been feeling, I knew I wouldn’t be getting my period this month either. 

That night was a night where we had a huge blowout argument, both of us questioning if we loved another. Deep down we knew we still loved each other and it was wrong for us to question it. But both of us were stubborn so instead of admitting our love, we decided to fuck out our frustrations; Bucky dragging me to the shower with him as I wrapped my legs around his midsection, marking his neck as mine while his cock slammed into me. Afterwards, Bucky helped me to our bed and apologized for the fight as he held me against his chest. I took the morning after pill later that afternoon once we realized we weren’t safe which is why I was hoping the test would be negative. Maybe the reason why I missed my period was because of all the stress I’d been under. 

“Might as well get this over with,” I grumbled under my breath while ripping open the box. 

It came with two tests and I figured it would be better if I used both so after peeing on both sticks, I set them on the counter and washed my hands. These next five minutes were going to be incredibly slow so after I changed into one of Bucky’s shirts and opted out of wearing pants, I paced the bathroom.

“Shit,” I clutched my chest when the timer on my phone went off. 

As I reached for the tests which were overturned, I paused for a moment wondering if maybe I should have been doing this with Bucky. 

“If he wasn’t such an asshole,” I muttered to the thought in my head and turned over the two tests. 

My heart was in my ears, in my throat, and in the depths of my stomach when I saw the one word that sealed our fate. 

Positive. 

Both tests were positive. 

“Fuck me,” I breathed while resting a hand on my stomach, the tears finally falling. 

There wasn’t a doubt in my mind that even though we were fighting, Bucky would be fine with whatever I decided to do. It was my choice. But would he stay with me? The Avengers seemed to be all over the world, helping people who needed it, hence why Bucky had been in a mood lately. I knew his anger wasn't directly related to me but because he’d been overworked. I also knew that didn’t give him the right to take it out on me. 

Pulling up Bucky’s text thread on my phone, shaking fingers worked out a text even though he was still in the next room. 

Me: I need to talk to you. It’s important. Can you meet me in the living room please? 

Bucky 🩶: Not right now. 

With a snarl, I snatched the tests off the bathroom counter and stormed out into his office, letting the door smack against the wall. Bucky didn’t bother to look away from the book on his lap as he sat on his computer chair. 

“Congratulations. You’re going to be a father,” I snapped before turning to walk away. 

The chair creaked as Bucky leaned forward to gaze down at his desk, a soft breath catching in his throat. 

“Doll,” his vibranium fingers grazed my wrist, halting me. “Wait.” 

“What? Are you going to claim I’m faking this?” I snapped, slicing him with my gaze. 

“I-,” Bucky’s face softened as he looked back at the pregnancy tests. “You’re pregnant?” 

I let the anger fade momentarily when I heard the sincerity in his voice; the slight excitement. 

“Yeah, I guess so. I missed my period last month and I’ve been so exhausted lately. Not to mention my boobs have been really sore,” I cringed while running a hand over my chest. 

Bucky glanced up at my breasts with a small smirk but then he let his gaze lower on my stomach where it rested for a long few beats of silence. Fear of what he would do or say weighed heavy on my shoulders causing me to remain frozen in front of him. The air in the room was thick with an unreadable tension and the ringing in my ears was deafening. I couldn’t even hear our shared breathing as Bucky continued to stare at my stomach before his large hands rested there.

“Hi,” he breathed. “I’m your dad.”

I dragged a finger over his cheek, those ocean eyes I adored so much gazed up at me. “I’m sorry.” 

“For what, doll?” Bucky asked with furrowed brows. 

“For everything. For avoiding fixing things between us by working non stop.”

I rattled off which made him link fingers with me and brought me down onto his lap, both of us now sitting in his computer chair. He rested his hands over my hip, slowly raising up the hem of my shirt so he could drag calloused fingers over my skin. It was the most contact we’ve had in a week and I leaned farther into him. His nose dragged over my jaw, breathing me in. 

“I’m sorry for all of the hurtful things I’ve said. I’m sorry for ignoring your feelings when I should have asked you up front what was wrong. I’m sorry for locking myself away with work instead of fixing things between us,” Bucky apologized. 

I looked deeper into his eyes, taking in the slight freckles on his face. “Can I be honest?” 

When Bucky nodded, I continued. “You freaked me out when you said you never thought of our future and now that I’m pregnant, I’m worried you’re going to leave.” 

“Absolutely not,” he cupped my cheek, dragging his thumb just underneath my eye to wipe away the stray tears. “I’ve never thought about the future until you came into my life, doll. I might not express it enough, which is my fault but please know you’re in my future. Especially now.” 

His free hand grazed over my stomach and I nodded into the grasp on my cheek, leaving a kiss on the inside of his palm. 

“Can you promise me one thing?” I asked. 

“Anything.” 

Biting my lip, I spoke. “Can you promise not to propose to me just because I’m pregnant? I want you to propose because you want to, not because you feel like you have too.”

Something flashed in his eyes but Bucky eventually nodded. “Of course.”

While sitting on his lap, the chair continued to creak underneath our shared weight and I sighed, ready to get off which caused him to tighten his grip on me. 

“Stay,” he breathed in the crook of my neck. “I need to show you how sorry I am.” 

Quickly, Bucky’s lips were on mine in a leisurely kiss. It started off like how our first kiss did, like he was testing the waters again. I nearly sobbed into the kiss when I felt the love pour out of him. I’d been desperate to feel this way again. With his hands on my hips, he began moving me up and down his lap, the hardness of his cock pressing against the thin material of my panties. His name fell from my lips, almost immediately swallowed by his tongue as it explored my mouth; tasting me. 

Vibranium fingers slinked up my shirt to graze over my back before Bucky tossed it over my head and down to the floor, breaking our kiss. Lust bleed in his already dark eyes as he looked at my stomach, his cock straining in his jeans. 

“Shit,” he groaned while pressing kisses along my chest. “I can’t wait to see you round with my baby.” 

A moan fell from my lips as I exposed more of myself to Bucky, his teeth now grazing over my nipples. Along with my sore breasts, my nipples were extra sensitive. 

“Bucky,” I pulled on his shirt. 

He immediately understood and helped me work it off. Immediately my nails raked along his chest as my lips met his again in a fiery kiss, this one more intense than the last. With a gentle tap to my ass, I raised my hips slightly so Bucky could drag down my panties with a bit of maneuvering. However with his jeans, it would have taken way more manuerving on his part to slide them off completely. 

“We should move to the bed,” I suggested, breathless. 

Bucky shook his head, keeping his lips on the current mark he was working on my neck. “Absolutely not. I want you to sit on my cock while I sit on the chair.” 

Feeling feisty, I pulled away from him slightly to gaze down at him. “Really? This has nothing to do with Steve making it slip the other day how he and his girlfriend did something eerily similar to this.” 

He rolled his eyes with a groan. “Please don’t bring up Steve having sex right now.” 

When he motioned towards his unzipped jeans, I let out a soft giggle and then reached my hand in his briefs to grab his cock, already so warm and hard. 

“I’ve missed this,” I whispered, gathering his precum to drag it over his head. 

“Doll,” my name came out through gritted teeth as Bucky rested his head on my shoulder. “I need to be inside of you. Please.”

Pulling his cock out from his briefs completely, I dragged it between my folds a few strokes before sinking down on him; both of us letting out a loud groan of pleasure.  It had been so long since we’ve felt this so I knew we wouldn’t last long. 

“Fuck,” Bucky strangled out while wrapping his arms around me to bring me closer. “I can’t wait to watch your belly get round with my baby.”

I mewled in response, mouth busy with leaving dark marks across his neck while one of my hands slipped between our bodies to press circles on my clit, bringing me closer to the edge. 

His cock twitched inside of me, indicating he was close when his hips stilled. “You'd look so beautiful pregnant with my kid. Your belly and tits-oh shit." 

“Don’t stop,” I begged while riding him faster this time, the chair nearly falling over. 

“Doll,” Bucky’s voice was strained so I brushed away the hair from his sweat slicked forehead. “I’m going to fill you up over and over again.” 

I nodded as the coil in my stomach began to ignite in a blaze of ecstasy, my orgasm about to snap. 

“I love you,” I cried out when my body finally snapped, arousal coating Bucky’s cock. 

With one final thrust, he followed me over the edge as he filled me with his cum and breathlessly announced his love for me as well. Falling into him with exhaustion, Bucky lifted me from the chair and carried me through our apartment towards the bathroom. 

“Are you alright?” He questioned while still carrying me. 

I pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I’m okay.”

Setting me on the closed toilet seat, he turned on the shower and removed his pants while we waited for the steam to bellow around us. 

[backofthebookshelf]

It's not a controversial take necessarily -- it's just that the particular environment of AO3, where you can see how many times your fic was loaded in a browser window and where the little heart button has a different meaning than it does on every other social media site, is uniquely bad for the human brain.

For the VAST majority of history, both the history of making art generally and the history of writing fanfiction in particular, you did not get to know how many people gave your work a cursory once-over, or how many people checked your book out from the library and never read it, or how many people overheard a line of poetry and thought "huh, neat" and never did anything else. These interactions were, as they should be, completely anonymous and uncountable. Even in the pre-AO3 days of fanfiction, there was an understanding that page hit counters were kind of crap (for one thing, they would count you every time you loaded the page, and you had to load the page to check the counter, so that was incentive not to look at it that much).

Even in other artistic contexts where you do now have page hit counters on everything, they're contextualized through marketing research, not consumed as a raw value. Marketing talks about conversion rate, which is the % of people who saw something who then went on to do the thing you wanted them to do - for a business that's probably buy the thing, for a nonprofit it might be donate or sign up for a volunteer session, for a fanfiction writer it's leave a comment. At work I work with multiple major companies you have definitely heard of who spend half a million dollars and 1-3 full time employees every year on something that increases their conversion rate by 1-2%. They do this because the conversion rate on our emails is 5%, which is INSANELY high.

And yes, leaving a comment doesn't cost money, but it does cost time and energy. Writers overestimate how easy it is for people to write comments--my coworkers are out here using chatgpt to write boilerplate work emails, I can't imagine ANY of them ever leaving a comment on a work of art they enjoyed. Verbally, yes--and "in a friend discord is much closer to verbally than in a comment form--but in writing? Absolutely not.

As for kudos, I can't help but think that the "likes don't do anything, you have to reblog" culture of social media like twitter and tumblr affects that too (and yes, by the latter days of twitter I was seeing people saying that on there, because the algorithm was so broken). Kudos is essentially a like button, and like the like button on twitter that used to be a favorite button before they changed it and some people never stopped treating it like one, it has meanings for people you'll never understand. "It's just a click!" It is a symbol with vague connotations but no specific universally agreed upon meaning; it tells you how many people clicked on that button, and that's all.

So yes, actually, I guess I am saying that as a writer, you are supposed to assume that many more people liked your fic than you will ever hear from or even know about. And that's a good thing! You have the chance to touch someone's life even though they have no idea who you are and don't think of you as a person so much as a semi-mythical figure called "the author". And that's part of the magic, to me, of creating things. You pour yourself into a thing and then you set it loose into the world and you hope it means to someone else as much as it meant to you. Sometimes, very rarely, someone will tell you so, and that's amazing, I'm not going to pretend it's not, but you have to have enough faith in yourself to believe it happens whether you hear about it or not.

I really don't understand how "without getting kudos or comments a fanfiction author is going to assume that people who clicked their fic didn't like it" became a controversial take.

I don't know why some people think an author should imagine, or guess that people who click their fic enjoyed it it when nobody is telling them that.

If you're re-reading a fic constantly, or leaving it up in your tab so that it re-loads every day for a hundred days the author is not going to know that unless you tell them. They'd love to hear it. It would make their day.

And if you don't tell them you liked their fic, there's no reason for them to assume you did.

[slut4megantheestallion]

Could you make arcane women x reader who likes to paint or sew?

Arcane Women with a s/o who likes to paint & sew headcanons

- Pairings: Vi, Jinx, Caitlyn, Mel, Sevika, Ambessa.

Summary; being in a relationship w/ a s/o who likes to paint and sew.

Genre: fluff

-Vi

●Vi loves that you have such a creative side. Even if she doesn’t fully understand all the work that goes into it, she thinks it’s insanely cool.

●The first time you sew something for her, she’s blown away.

●You made her a custom red bomber jacket with her initials stitched subtly into the fabric.

●"Babe, you MADE this?! Shit, I’m never taking this off."

●If you rip your gloves? Vi refuses to let anyone else fix them, but you.

●When you paint her, she just stares at the finished piece, looking at herself in a way she’s never seen before.

●"Damn, you really see me like this? I—uh. Wow." (She gets weirdly emotional but plays it off.)

●After a long day, she loves to just sit beside you, watching you work.

●"Dunno how you do this shit, but it’s hot. Carry on."

-Jinx

●She adores your artistic talent. If you let her, she WILL steal your paints and mix colors into chaotic neon explosions.

●"Babe, babe, LOOK—I made art! It’s messy, it’s loud, it’s Jinx!"

●Jinx has ZERO patience for sewing but will still sit in your lap, messing with your materials.

●Uses your fabric scraps to make dolls—little stuffed bombs with stitched-on grins.

●"They’re like my babies! Boom babies!"

●If you paint murals, she WILL graffiti over them—not to ruin them, but to "add her touch."

●"C’mon, baby, it needed a little Jinx in it!" (Cue her spray-painting a giant, neon heart around your work.)

●If you ever paint her? She loses her mind.

●"You PAINTED ME? Oh my GOD, babe, I look AMAZING—wait, wait, make my eyes glow MORE."

●If you make her clothes, she begs you for patchwork designs that are a chaotic mess of colors and textures.

●"Okay, okay—hear me out—pink, blue, and, like, a hundred pockets."

Caitlyn

●She finds your skills incredibly elegant and admires how much effort you put into them.

●Sometimes, she just sits in quiet admiration, sipping her tea while watching you work.

●"You make it look so effortless, my love."

●If you sew something for her? She wears it immediately.

●A custom blue waistcoat? Instant favorite.

●"This is exquisite. You have a gift, darling."

●Buys you the best art supplies—high-quality paints, imported fabrics, anything you could ever need.

● "No, no, it’s not ‘too much,’ you deserve the best."

●If you make her a scarf, she NEVER takes it off.

●She commissions you to paint a landscape of Piltover’s skyline for her study.

●"Something about your work makes this city seem… softer."

Mel

●Mel is beyond impressed by your talent and considers it a high art form.

●She loves watching you work, trailing her fingers over the fabric, or gently touching a finished canvas.

●"Your hands create beauty with such ease. It’s mesmerizing."

▪︎If you make her a dress? She will show it off at every event.

●"Custom-made by the most talented person in Piltover. A true work of art."

●She commissions exclusive pieces from you, both clothing and paintings, because your work is far superior to anything money could buy.

●Will absolutely display your art in her home, making sure every guest acknowledges your talent.

●"Don’t you agree? My love’s work outshines anything in the Council Hall."

●If she catches you doubting your skills, she will shut that down immediately.

●"Don’t be ridiculous. Your talent is unmatched."

Sevika

●She pretends not to care, but she absolutely does.

●If you sew for her, she’ll just nod, acting casual—but she refuses to wear anything else.

●"Yeah, whatever. It’s nice. Thanks." (Literally wears it every day.)

●If you paint? She loves watching the process but will never admit it.

●"Tch. You’re gettin’ paint everywhere." (Secretly fascinated)

●Lets you paint on her metal arm sometimes, turning it into a work of art.

●"Don’t make it too soft. I still gotta look like a badass."

●She will not sit still for long periods, so if you need a model, you have to bribe her.

●"Fine. But you owe me a drink after this."

●Sometimes, she catches herself staring while you work, watching your hands move with quiet precision.

●When you catch her, she’ll just grumble and look away.

Ambessa

●She sees your skills as a mark of power and refinement.

●She’s fascinated by the patience and control you have over your craft.

●"Discipline. Precision. You would have made a fine general."

●If you make something for her? She wears it proudly, but only if it’s impeccable.

●"I accept nothing less than perfection. And you, my dear, deliver just that."

●She commissions war banners, military insignias, and regal garments from you, knowing your work will make a statement.

●Loves watching you paint. There’s something about the graceful intensity of it that captivates her.

●Doesn’t give praise easily, but when she does, it means something.

●"Your talent is rare. Do not waste it on anything unworthy."