#i love hearing about what other people are doing and the things they love

[names-of-courage-inspo-n-refs]

[Text below taken from previous post^^^ for ease of searching]

4 year-olds

Have trouble with close visual activities like reading and writing

Fine motor skills are not well developed

Often very clumsy

Energetic and active

Friendly and talkative

Need adult help finding words to express their needs

Easily redirected from unwanted behavior

Imaginative

Experiment with language (including swears they hear adults use)

Short attention spans

Can learn responsibilities like room cleaning but need guidance and models

Typically can't read but they do understand stories and often display complex thinking

Thinking is almost exclusively concrete (what they can see and feel

5 year-olds

Typically go through a growth spurt

May write letters and numbers backwards

Better control of lange muscles but still frequently fall out of chairs

Still struggle somewhat with fine motor skills

Want adult approval

Classes in Kindergarten are usually 15 to 20 minutes

Interpret words literally

Older fives like to explain things that have been explained to them

Poor sense of time (they have no idea how long 5 minutes is)

Ranely see things from another person's view

Abstract concepts like "fairness" are confusing

Vivid imagination and limited life experience lead to leaps in logic (my toys are alive / the trees move when its windy so the tress make wind

6 year-olds

More developed fine motor skills

School work is often rushed because they care more about the product than the process

Highly competitive and sensitive to criticism

Typically begin forming closer friendships (first best friend)

Love jokes and guessing games

Very curious and ask a lot of questions

Better understanding of time (can understand historical events relative to present-day)

Usually can read simple books independently but they frequentty misspell words (city becomes sity)

*These younger years have a lot of development so there is a huge difference between a kid that just turned five and a kid that's five and a half.

7 year-olds

Improved gross and fine motor skills

Often begin preferring video games to outdoor games

Empathetic and sensitive to others feelings

Prefer working alone or with one friend

May worry that nobody likes them (increasing awareness of others thoughts)

Strong sense of right and wrong

Bothered by mistakes and try to perfect their work

Still en joy being read to even though they can read independently

Rapidly increasing vocabulary

Some may still read out loud but most kids can read silently now

8 year-olds

Play hard and tire quickly

Growth spurts can cause them to be clumsy

Ad just well to change and bounce back quickty from disappointments

Want peer and adult approval

Form larger friend groups than 7 year-olds

Tend to exaggerate

Enjoy responsibility but may not complete assigned tasks successfully

Like adding things to school assignments but not revising previous work

Can maintain attention for long periods of time but may forget instructions

9 year-olds

Start of puberty (typically closer to 10 but can happen)

May twist hair or bite nails to relieve tension

More individualistic and beginning to experiment with different personalities and styles

Often worried or anxious

Very critical of themselves and others (including adults)

Like to negotiate and make deals (this is the age I accidentally made my own pyriamid scheme)

Curious but less imaginative (ike to know the how and why)

Rather than learning to read, school focuses on reading to learn (textbooks)

10 year-olds

Lower body muscles are developed but typically not upper body

Frequent rest periods and snacks benefit their quickly growing bodies

Generally happy and friendly

Quick to anger and to forgive

Appreciate being noticed and rewarded for their efforts

Typically have sloppier writing than 9 year-olds because they are in a hurry

Listen well and can appreciate other peoples perspectives

READ A LOT

Increasing ability to think abstractly

11 year-olds

Middle school and team sports usually begin around this time

Need lots of food and physical activity (also usually don't get enough sleep)

Impulsive and often talk before thinking

Use social media a lot

Concerned with thier inclussion or exclusion from social groups

Become more skilled at abstract thinking and deductive reasoning

Like to challenge rules and test limits as they move towards independence

Imitate adult language

Can be sensitive and self-absorbed at times

12 year-olds

Adult personality begins to emerge, but they may still try out others

More reasonable than ll year-olds

Capable of self-awarness and empathy

Care more about peers opinions than adults

More able to think abstractly about complex moral issues

May begin to excel at a subject or skill

Want to make money from jobs at home or in their neighborhoods

13 year-olds

Puberty is in full swing and hygiene becomes a big concern (acne and body odor)

Males typically e jaculate for the first time before or during this time

Have a Sex Ed class in school which is embarassing for them and may lead to silly or rude behavior

Moody and sensitive

Tend to travel is small packs and become very concerned with popularity

Increasing levels of sarcasm in humor

Likes and dislikes become more pronounced

Like to challenge authority

Struggle to put their ideas into practice (they are concerned about social justice but also are mean to each other)

14 year-olds

Females are typically fully developed physically

May become sexually active

Loud and rambuntious

Dislike adult lectures and feel they know what will be said after the first few words

Better at figuring out cause and effect

More willing to admit error and try things a second or third time

Adult personality continues to develop

I am so sick of fic writers making 10-year-olds talk like babies.

I work with children and have taken numerous classes on adolescent development. Here's some of what I learned because I might actually kill someone if I read another fic where an older child is essentially a four-year-old. (No hate to anyone in particular. Children are confusing.)

(Slight trigger warning for 13 & 14 year-olds. Puberty/sex mentioned)

(Most info is from Chip Wood's Yardsticks: Child and Adolescent Development Ages 4-14)

[velvetvexations]

the way people talk about other trans people and our cis allies on here is just so horrendous

when i initially saw this discourse, i took the side of transgender radical feminists, because i have always been very critical of accusations against transfems. i have several transfem loved ones and i have been dedicated for years to making sure i unlearn transmisogynistic biases and am safe for my loved ones

i looked into these popular transfeminist blogs, specifically the ones ran by transfems, because i wanted to hear their stories. i was very taken aback by what felt to me like hatred and resentment towards transmascs. and i saw this type of stuff on the blogs of transgender radical feminists who AREN'T transfem, too

and i saw even more people talking about how awful cis people are, how cis people can never truly be our allies, how we need to separate ourselves from cis people

and i talked about this with one of my transfem friends. i talked to her about how i've found tumblr discourse and it feels like there is a portion of transfems online that hate transmascs. and i talked to her about it because i wanted to make sure i wasn't being transmisogynistic and having a knee-jerk reaction

and she told me that she doesn't hate transmascs. she told me that the things that were being said about transmascs WERE mean and hateful and cruel. she was very saddened, because these people on tumblr were sowing seeds of resentment between transfems and transmascs. she agreed that, while transfems face a unique subset of oppression in transmisogyny, transmascs also face a unique subset of oppression

all my other transfem loved ones also agreed. they said that no, i was not having a knee-jerk reaction, these were just genuinely cruel things to say about transmascs

i believe in anti-transmasculinity/transandrophobia/transmisandry/whatever you want to call it, because my transfem loved ones and i have diacussed it and they listened to me about my own oppression and agreed that there are unique ways in which we are all oppressed

i am not my transfem loved ones' greatest enemy. our cis loved ones are not our greatest enemies. transphobic cis people are our greatest enemies

i am the one who goes shopping with my transfem friends to find skirts that fit them. i am the one who teaches my transfem girlfriend about different types of bras. i am the one trying to help my transfem friend from america move to my country. my transfem friends are the ones who help me figure out mens' fashion and how to make my clothes fit me in a masculine way. our cis friends are the ones who treat us like people. not like freaks, or monsters, but like people.

transfems aren't my enemy. cis people aren't my enemy. transphobia and transmisogyny is my enemy

i can't understand why people don't love and appreciate our cis allies. after spending years being mocked and assaulted and abused by cis people for being trans, it's a breath of fresh air to see cis allies

like, with how popular it is to be transphobic nowadays, for a cis person to actively be our ally, they would have to be consciously monitoring their biases and actively doing their own research. they are ACTIVELY and CONSCIOUSLY making the CHOICE to stand with us. i love our cis allies so deeply

and i love my transfem sisters and nonbinary siblings, too. i have far more in common with transfems and nonbinary people than anyone else, even if i am a transmasc and transitioning in a different direction.

tumblr 'transfeminism' isn't helping my transfem loved ones. it isn't aiding them in any material way. letting them call me a theyfab does NOTHING to help them or to improve their lives. and THAT is why i hate this tumblr discourse. because these privileged pieces of shit are using the guise of transfeminism to be cruel to others, instead of materially helping other transfems like my loved ones

All very true anon. Thank you for sending in. <3

[rosemariiaa]

~The Party & The After Party~

𐙚— pairing: Paige x Azzi

𐙚— rosie’s note: why hello there..yes rosie wrote pazzi smut kill me this is the first and last okay it’s not that much bc i’m testing the waters, basically inspired by the song in the tile by the weeknd, happy reading lovelies 💌

𐙚— themes: language, sexual content (public sex?), jealous p and az

𐙚— taglist: @thaatdigitaldiary @bueckersbitch @makethemhoesmad @imaginespazzi @ashortyluvsports @absolutelydreadful @elliesglock @azzibuckets @sierrale8ne @ldapper

The music pulses through the air, heavy and slow, pressing against Azzi’s skin like the heat of too many bodies packed into one space. It’s not really her scene—never has been—but Paige had convinced her to come, her voice coaxing, her fingers tracing slow, persuasive circles against Azzi’s wrist. Come with me, baby. Just for a little bit. I wanna show you off. She begged.

Azzi had rolled her eyes, but she’d come anyway. She always does.

Now, Paige is standing in front of her, still close enough that Azzi can feel the warmth of her body even through the buzz of the room. Paige’s fingers slip under the hem of Azzi’s top, just for a second, a quick brush against her skin before she pulls away.

“I’ma go talk to Lyss and Dijonai,” Paige says, leaning in so Azzi can hear her over the music. “I’ll bring us back some drinks, kay?”

Azzi nods, already missing the feeling of Paige’s body, the way she makes all of this—the lights, the noise, the people—easier to deal with. Paige’s gaze flickers over her, something soft beneath the smirk she always wears.

“You good?”

Azzi huffs, nudging Paige with her elbow. “Go already.”

Paige grins, her fingers grazing Azzi’s wrist one last time before she disappears into the crowd. Azzi exhales, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, suddenly hyperaware of how many people are around her, how many unfamiliar faces blur together under the neon glow.

She lets her eyes follow Paige for a moment, watching the way she moves—easy, fluid, like she belongs here. She’s already talking to her teammates, her hands gesturing as she laughs at something one of them said. Azzi lets herself relax. She can wait.

And then—

“Didn’t take you for the type to come to these things.”

The voice is smooth, edged with amusement, and when Azzi turns, there’s a woman standing too close—tall, brunette, unfamiliar.

Azzi straightens, her shoulders tensing before she can help it. “I’m not.”

The woman smiles. “Then why are you here all alone?”

Azzi shifts her gaze, scanning the room for Paige. She’s about to tell this girl that she’s not alone, that her girlfriend will be back any second, but when she finds Paige, she’s laughing.

With someone else.

A worker, by the looks of it. Some girl in a black T-shirt, grinning too hard at something Paige just showed her on her phone. And Paige is eating it up, laughing just as much, her head tilting back, her hand brushing against the worker’s shoulder like it’s nothing.

What the fuck?

Azzi’s stomach tightens, instinct curling in her chest, but she swallows it down before it can become anything sharp. She’s not doing this. Not here.

So she breathes in. Exhales.

And then she turns back to the girl in front of her, schooling her expression into something lighter.

“You never answered my question,” the brunette says, tilting her head. “Why are you here?”

Azzi lifts a shoulder, gaze flickering down for just a second before she meets the girl’s eyes again. “Why are you?”

The brunette smiles, slow and knowing, and extends her hand. “Name’ Sophia. I play for the Aces.”

Azzi takes her hand, brief and firm. “Azzi.”

“I know,” Sophia says, her grip lingering just a second too long before she lets go. “I’ve seen you play.”

Azzi hums, noncommittal, before letting her gaze slide past Sophia’s shoulder, back to where Paige is—

Watching.

Their eyes meet across the room, and Azzi can tell, instantly, that Paige has seen everything. The way Sophia leaned in just slightly. The way Azzi hadn’t immediately shut it down.

But instead of coming over, instead of pulling her usual hey, baby and wrapping an arm around Azzi’s waist, Paige smirks.

And then she pulls out her phone.

Azzi barely has time to process what that means before her own phone buzzes in her pocket. Her fingers hover over her phone as Sophia walks away to go get them drinks, her sneakers squeaking against the polished floor, disappearing into the crowd. Azzi exhaled slowly, the weight of the charade pressing against her chest. She glanced over to the other side of the room, where Paige was still leaning casually against the counter, her grin wide as the worker she was talking to laughed at something Azzi couldn’t hear. Paige didn’t look tense. Didn’t look bothered. Just relaxed, like she had the whole night ahead of her to charm whoever was in front of her.

But Azzi knew Paige better than that. The way Paige tilted her head ever so slightly, her eyes flickering back to Azzi even while she smiled—it wasn’t nothing. Paige was watching her. Testing her.

Azzi bit her lip and unlocked her phone.

Azzi couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of her chest this time. It was quick and soft, but it felt good. She slipped her phone back into her pocket just as Sophia reappeared, two drinks in hand and a bright smile plastered across her pale face.

“Miss me?” Sophia asked, stepping closer and offering Azzi one of the glasses.

Azzi took it with a polite nod, her eyes flickering back to Paige one last time. Paige was watching again,no surprise, her head tilted, her expression unreadable except for the faint smirk playing on her lips.

Azzi met her gaze evenly, raising the glass just slightly in a silent toast before turning back to Sophia.

“Not for long,” Azzi said smoothly, her voice steady as she let the weight of Paige’s stare roll off her shoulders. She took a sip of the drink and smiled at Sophia, keeping her expression just warm enough to keep the game going.

If Paige wanted to play games, Azzi could play too.

Sophia stepped in closer to Azzi, the faint scent of her perfume lingering in the space between them. Her voice dropped as she leaned toward Azzi’s ear, her hand brushing lightly against Azzi’s arm. “Y’know,” Sophia murmured, “I don’t usually do this, but—”

Before she could finish, a firm tap on her shoulder interrupted the moment.

Sophia turned around, a touch of irritation flashing across her face as she asked, “Yeah?”

Standing there, towering over her by a good two inches, was Paige. The confidence in her stance and the sharpness in her eyes made it clear she wasn’t here for the bs. Paige didn’t say anything at first—just raised her eyebrow before muttering, “Excuse me,” and deliberately bumped past Sophia, sliding between her and Azzi.

Her hand found Azzi’s waist like it was second nature, her fingers pressing possessively into the fabric of her shorts. She leaned in close, her voice low but teasing as she asked, “You miss me?”

Azzi sighed, rolling her eyes and taking a sip of her drink. “Not particularly,” she muttered, but she didn’t move Paige’s hand.

Behind Paige, Sophia’s eyes widened in surprise. She stood there for a moment, clearly trying to piece together what was happening. “Wait,” she said, looking directly at Azzi. “I thought you were here alone?”

Paige sighed dramatically, turning around with an exaggerated eye roll. “Damn,” she said, her tone thick with sarcasm. “You still here?”

Sophia’s mouth opened as if she was about to argue, but before she could get a word out, Paige cut her off smoothly. “Look, it’s obvious she’s not here alone. So why don’t you go ahead and find someone else to bother, yeah?”

There was a beat of silence before Sophia’s face flushed with a mix of embarrassment and annoyance. She glanced at Azzi one last time, waiting for her to say something, but Azzi simply raised an eyebrow, silently sipping her drink. Defeated, Sophia muttered something under her breath and walked away.

Once she was gone, Azzi finally turned to Paige, brushing her hands off her waist. “What’d you make my friend leave for?”

Paige scoffed, crossing her arms as she looked down at Azzi. “Yo friend? You ain’t want her to stay. C’mon now.”

“Whatever,” Azzi mumbled, shaking her head. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

Paige’s lips curled into a mock pout as she stepped closer, pulling Azzi back in by her waist. “Aw, you seem jealous, baby,” she teased, her voice dropping into a playful drawl. “Was it ‘cus I was talking to her?”

“Fuck off, Paige,” Azzi shot back, trying to sound annoyed, but the faint blush creeping up her neck betrayed her.

Paige tilted her head, her grin widening. “Baby, I wasn’t even doing anything.”

Azzi scoffed, setting her drink down on the table nearby. “Yeah? Sure didn’t look like it. You were having a grand ole time, laughing your ass off.”

Paige’s grin softened into something more genuine as she leaned back slightly, her hands still firmly on Azzi’s waist. “Oh, that?” she said, her tone almost amused. “You mean when me and the bartender were talking about you?”

Azzi frowned, her confusion flickering across her face. “What?”

Paige chuckled, clearly enjoying herself. “She’s a fan, Azzi. She got so excited when she realized who you were. Said she’d been waiting all night to make a drink for the Azzi Fudd.”

Azzi blinked, her annoyance faltering. “What?” she repeated, quieter this time.

Paige’s smile turned softer as she continued, “She even showed me this old picture she had of you two as kids, y’all went to the same school I guess. You both had chocolate all over your faces. I couldn’t stop laughing, so I showed her one of mine from back then. It turned into a whole thing which kinda made me forget about our drinks.”

Azzi rubbed her face with her hands, a groan slipping out as guilt settled in her chest. “oh,” she muttered, dropping her hands to look up at Paige. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

“Yeah, you shouldn’t have,” Paige interrupted, but there was no bite to her words. She pulled Azzi closer. Now their chests were pressed together, and Paige leaned down, her lips brushing Azzi’s ear as she whispered, “You know I don’t want anyone else but you, princess.”

Azzi’s breath hitched, her heart hammering against her ribs. Paige was so close, her breath carrying the faint scent of mint and Shirley Temple, her Dior cologne wrapping around Azzi like a second skin.

Paige leaned back just enough to meet Azzi’s eyes, her voice low and deliberate. “I think I’ve made that clear, haven’t I?”

Azzi couldn’t do anything but nod, her hands instinctively gripping the front of Paige’s shirt for balance.

The corner of Paige’s mouth quirked up, her confidence radiating as she murmured, “Good.”

Azzi swallowed hard, trying to pull herself together. “Let’s go,” she said suddenly, her voice firmer than she expected.

Paige tilted her head, her grin turning mischievous. “Go where?”

“To the car,” Azzi replied, already pulling Paige’s hand to lead the way.

Paige followed without hesitation, the smirk never leaving her face as she let Azzi guide her.

—

Azzi didn’t let go of Paige’s hand as they made their way through the crowd, her grip firm. She walked ahead, her pace steady, but there was an urgency in the way her fingers tightened around Paige’s. Paige followed with a smirk tugging at her lips, watching Azzi’s determination from behind, her ponytail swaying with each step.

When they reached the car, Azzi made her way to the passenger side, her hand still in Paige’s. Paige started to move ahead, her free hand reaching for the door handle. “Here, I got it—”

Before Paige could finish, Azzi spun her around, pinning her back against the car with surprising strength. The cool metal pressed against Paige’s back, but the heat of Azzi’s body in front of her erased it immediately.

Azzi didn’t waste a second. Her lips crashed onto Paige’s, her hands gripping the blonde’s hips as if anchoring herself. Paige’s initial surprise melted into something far more eager as she let out a quiet sigh, her hands instinctively finding their way to Azzi’s waist.

Azzi deepened the kiss, her fingers sliding to the back of Paige’s neck, pulling her closer as her tongue brushed against Paige’s lower lip before slipping into her mouth. Paige groaned into the kiss, her fingers tightening on Azzi’s hips before sliding lower.

“Damn,” Paige mumbled against Azzi’s lips, her voice slightly breathless. Her hands gripped the curve of Azzi’s ass through her shorts, and Azzi gasped softly in response, her breath hitching before muttering, “Fuck.”

Paige chuckled against her mouth, her fingers pressing more firmly as she whispered, “What’s that, princess?”

Azzi didn’t answer, too caught up in the way Paige’s soft lips moved against hers. Her voice came out as a broken mumble between kisses, “P…need you,” her words trailing off as her teeth grazed Paige’s bottom lip, her tongue following close behind.

She broke the kiss, her breath heavy as she looked up at Paige, lips swollen and slightly parted. Paige smirked, the glint in her eye making Azzi’s heart pound harder and her core wetter. The blonde leaned in, brushing her lips against Azzi’s ear, her voice low and teasing.

“Tell me, princess,” Paige murmured, her hand still gripping Azzi’s waist, keeping her firmly against the car. “How bad do you need it?”

Azzi swallowed hard, her hands trembling slightly as they rested on Paige’s shoulders. Her big, doe-like eyes met Paige’s, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip before she answered softly, “So bad.”

Paige licked her lips, the corners of her mouth curling into a wicked smile as she tilted her head. “Yeah?” she teased, her voice dripping with control. “Lemme make sure.”

Azzi’s brows furrowed in confusion, her breath hitching as Paige’s hand slid from her ass to the front of her shorts. Paige’s fingers unbuttoned them, slipping beneath the waistband and pushing past the thin fabric of Azzi’s underwear.

The moment Paige’s fingers brushed against her, Azzi’s eyes widened, a soft gasp leaving her lips. She instinctively pressed her forehead to Paige’s shoulder, her entire body shivering as the blonde’s fingers explored her slick heat.

“Fuck..,” Paige muttered, her lips brushing against Azzi’s temple as her hand moved slowly. “You’re so wet.” Her voice was low and heavy, sending a shiver down Azzi’s spine. “Why’s that, huh?”

Azzi let out a shaky breath, gripping the back of Paige’s shirt as if to steady herself. “Because of you,” she mumbled, her voice breaking slightly as she fought to keep her composure. Paige tilted her head, her smirk deepening as she pressed her palm more firmly against Azzi’s clit, making the brunette gasp sharply. Paige’s voice was low, her breath tickling Azzi’s ear as she asked, “Who?”

Azzi’s fingers curled tighter around the fabric of Paige’s shirt, her chest rising and falling with each shaky breath. She tried to speak, but her voice caught in her throat, her lips trembling.

“P-Paige,” she finally stuttered, her voice barely above a whisper. “Fuck… P-please, I need it.”

Paige’s smirk only grew, the sound of Azzi’s desperate plea sending a rush of heat through her. Without saying a word, Paige slid Azzi’s underwear to the side, her fingers finally feeling her completely.

“Shit,” Paige groaned, her head dropping slightly as she leaned closer. The slickness she felt against her fingers made her chest tighten, and she couldn’t help but let out a low, satisfied moan. “God, baby,” she muttered against Azzi’s lips, the words barely audible as she pressed a searing kiss to her mouth.

Azzi whimpered into the kiss, her hands sliding up to grip the back of Paige’s neck, holding her closer as her knees threatened to give out. Paige didn’t hesitate to deepen the kiss, groaning again as Azzi’s hips shifted slightly against her hand.

“You’re so fucking wet,” Paige murmured against her lips, her voice dripping with both desire and satisfaction. “All for me, huh?”

Azzi could only nod frantically, her breath hitching as Paige’s fingers moved in tight circles on her, each touch igniting a fire that spread through her entire body. “Only for you,” she whispered, her voice breaking, as her eyes fluttered shut. Paige smirked into the kiss as she rubbed azzis clit faster, fingers sliding up and down her wet making Azzi moan into her mouth, her soft sounds vibrating against Paige’s lips and only spurring her on.

Azzi’s hands gripped Paige’s shoulders tightly, her breathing uneven as she tried to form words. “P-Paige,” she gasped, her voice shaky. “W-what if someone c-comes out?”

Paige chuckled lowly, brushing her lips against Azzi’s ear as she whispered, “Don’t worry about that, baby. No one’s coming. Just… fuck—” she groaned, moving her fingers faster and Azzi closer, the heat and wetness making her head spin. “You feel so fucking good.”

Azzi whimpered, her head falling forward onto Paige’s shoulder as her legs wavered. But Paige wasn’t about to let her go anywhere. Her other hand gripped Azzi’s waist firmly, keeping her pressed against the car as she dipped two fingers deep inside her without warning.

Azzi gasped sharply, her head snapping back as her lips parted in a soft cry. “Oh my god,” she whispered, her nails digging into Paige’s shirt as her body shuddered against her.

Paige’s lips curled into a satisfied smile as she watched Azzi’s reaction, her own breath hitching as she felt how tightly Azzi gripped her fingers. “That’s it, baby,” she murmured, her voice thick with desire. She leaned closer, brushing her lips along Azzi’s jaw before whispering, “You’re so tight, fuck. Taking me so good mama.”

Azzi tried to respond, but all that escaped her lips was a broken moan as Paige began to move her fingers, slow and oh so deep . Her hips instinctively bucked forward, and she squeezed her eyes shut, overwhelmed by the intensity of Paige’s fingers.

“Look at me,” Paige demanded softly, her free hand tilting Azzi’s chin up so their eyes met. The intensity in Paige’s gaze made Azzi’s stomach flip, and her lips quivered as she tried to hold back another moan.

“P-Paige,” Azzi whimpered, her breath hitching again as Paige curled her fingers just right, hitting that same spot Paige was always so good at finding. “F-fuck… please.”

“Please what?” Paige teased, her voice a low rasp as she leaned in, her lips grazing Azzi’s. “Tell me what you need, princess.”

Azzi’s head tilted back against the car, her lips trembling as she gasped, “Need to cum.. Please, I—”

Paige cut her off with a deep kiss, her fingers moving faster now, her thumb rubbing tight circles on Azzis puffy clit, each motion making Azzi’s soft cries grow louder despite her attempts to stay quiet. Paige smirked against her lips, knowing Azzi was losing the battle of keeping herself composed. Paige could feel her tightening around her fingers, the brunette’s body trembling against her as her breathing grew uneven. Paige smirked, her lips brushing along Azzi’s jawline as she whispered, “You’re so close, aren’t you, baby?”

Azzi whimpered, her nails digging into Paige’s shoulders as her hips rocked forward, chasing the building orgasm. “Y-yeah,” she gasped, her voice shaky and breathless.

Paige pressed a kiss just below Azzi’s ear, her fingers moving faster, deeper, as she tilted her head to murmur, “C’mon, Az come on my fingers. You’ve been so good—so damn good. I wanna feel you.”

Azzi moaned, the sound desperate and needy as her head fell forward onto Paige’s shoulder. Her thighs trembled, and she could barely hold herself up as Paige’s words pushed her closer to the edge.

“That’s it,” Paige encouraged, her tone low and soothing, though there was a roughness in it that only fueled Azzi’s need. “You feel how good you’re doing? I’ve got you.”

Azzi whimpered again, her grip on Paige tightening as her breathing hitched. “P-Paige,” she stuttered, her voice breaking. “I—oh my god—I’m—”

“Y’gonna come for me, aren’t you?” Paige murmured, her breath hot against Azzi’s skin. She pressed her thumb hard against Azzi’s clit, rubbing in time with her thrusts as she added, “Come on, baby, give it to me”

Azzi’s eyes squeezed shut, and her body went taut as a sharp cry escaped her lips. Her climax washed over her in waves, her hips bucking as Paige held her firmly, coaxing her through it with soft murmurs.

“There you go,” Paige whispered, slowing her movements but keeping her fingers inside Azzi, riding out every shudder and tremble. “You’re so perfect, baby. So fucking perfect.”

Azzi sagged against Paige, her forehead pressed to Paige’s neck as she tried to catch her breath. Her body was still trembling slightly, and she let out a soft, shaky laugh. “You’re too good at that,” she whispered weakly, her voice muffled against Paige’s skin.

Paige chuckled, sliding her hand out gently and holding Azzi close. “I know ,” she countered, pressing a kiss to Azzi’s temple. “C’mon, let’s get you in the car before someone really does come out here.”

[pshbites]

FOOLS ━ pjs

pairing : bsf!jay x fem!reader genre : friends to lovers, pure FLUFF!! warnings : none but erm not proofread! synopsis : 2 fools in love, who have no idea the other wants them wc : 1k a/n : yes this is inspo off of fool by nct 127, i love naming things after songs #sorry

if u enjoyed pls like & reblog, feedback is always appreciated!!

“would you just shut up” jake groaned out, glancing over at jay once more. ever since jay admitted he had a crush on you, his best friend, he’s been insufferable according to his friends. jay furrowed his brows, “what! i’m not even talking about her” he groaned out, making sunghoon scoff in amusement. “you mentioned that place that you want to take her to, like five times.” he sighed out, picking at his lunch in front of him. 

the history between you and jay wasn’t exactly.. ideal. the two of you had been friends since you were 12 years old and encountered many things together such as the time your braces got caught on a loose thread in jays shirt, or the time jay fell off his bike because he wanted to prove to you he could do a wheelie. all in all you two had stuck with each other through everything, including your relationships. 

jay never admitted it but he had developed a crush on you towards the beginning of college, that stupid saying that people really change in college or something was deemed to be true. he started getting annoyed by the encounters you would tell him about, wondering why you let stupid boys treat you like that when he was right in front of you. he thought he wasn’t obvious about it but when he finally told jake and sunghoon about having a crush on you, the two of them acted like it was a normal tuesday. 

“okay i did not say it five times” jay rolled his eyes, leaning back in his chair and jake and sunghoon gave each other a look, both of them sighing. “yeah man whatever” jake mumbled, making jay roll his eyes once more. he looked around the dining hall and his eyes landed on you, sitting with your two friends telling them something dramatically. you were talking with your hands again, which made jay smile. he loved when you did that it was so cute. if only he knew what you were talking about so passionately.. 

“honestly my theory is that he’s as equally obsessed with you as you are him” karina shrugged, popping one of winters fries in her mouth, making her slap her hand away. “that’s not possible” you sighed out, leaning back in your chair now. “yeah well..” as karina spoke, you looked in his direction, thoughts clouding your mind. you always had a small thing for jay ever since you were little but it was embarrassing to admit. those feelings halted when jay started getting in relationships which made you get into relationships to get his attention, but it never worked. 

now here you were, in your second year of college still pining for the boy you wanted when you were 13. “yn? are you paying attention.” karina waved her hand in front of your face, snapping you out of it. winter looked towards jay then you and laughed slightly. “she was too busy making oogly eyes at him” she said, making you slap her hand. karina groaned out. “it was not oogly eyes!” you retorted, rolling your eyes at winter. 

“there’s actually no hope for the two of you” winter sighed out as you three got up, going to put your plates away. “he doesn’t like me back, i’ll get over it” you sighed out, placing your place in the box and following karina and winter. “you’ve been saying that for years but okay yn” karina shook her head, laughing softly. as the three of you walked out of the dining hall you saw jake, jay, and sunghoon standing there. 

of course jake started up a conversation, now the six of you were walking as a group with you and jay lagging behind. it was quiet between you and jay, only the crunching of the leaves could be heard. jay glanced at you, smiling softly at the way you stepped over the leaves so you could hear the crunch of them. you had always loved doing that even when you were younger.

it hits jay now that he knows you, more than you may know yourself. because of him knowing you so well, that's why he fell for you in the first place. you were like a breath of fresh air to him, you always knew how to talk to him and make him smile, you also knew him inside and out and jay knew this.

but you were almost too good for him, after all you were a goddess in jays eyes and he was just a fool. what could he do? he knew confessing to you was a gamble because it could change the entire trajectory of your relationship, for the better or the worse. jay snapped out of his thoughts and cleared his throat.

“so.. what were you guys talking about? you kept moving your hands around dramatically” jay laughed a little as he finished the sentence, you rolled your eyes and elbowed him playfully. “none of your business” you mumbled back, making jay smile. 

he looked to you and smiled at your softly flushed cheeks, the way your nose was pink because of the fall breeze. “you wanna go to the diner tonight?” you looked to him, smile clear on your face. “i thought you were busy tonight?” he thought about it for a second then shook his head. “not anymore” he smiled softly. “okay, i’ll ask winter and rina.” you said and jay furrowed his brows. he hesitated before speaking. “no like, just us” he said, sounding a little uncertain. 

now was the moment, jay thought. the moment he had been waiting for, for ten years now. he knew you wouldn't want a really fancy date, so instead he opted for something a bit more you, something you were comfortable with. after all, everything he did was for you, and only you. so here it goes.

“no like, just us” he said, sounding a little uncertain.

you fully stopped walking causing jay to stop walking as well, forgetting about the group in front of you. “are you asking me out on a date park jongseong?” you furrowed your brows, looking in his eyes for an answer. there was no way he felt the same. “i.. uh you know if you want it to be?” he stuttered out, shoving his hands in his pockets. you smiled at his nervousness, the way he tried to act all cool about. “okay, are you paying? because you know a real gentleman pays.” you said playfully, the two of you resuming walking again. 

“is that even a question? of course yn” he sighed out, a little less nervous now. “well then yes, i’d love to go out with you jay” you smiled, looking at him. he smiled as well, the blush on his cheeks evident. “c'mon lovebirds! let’s go!” jake called out, his voice a little far in the distance. you giggled softly, making jay softly elbow you. karina’s theory was more than right.

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[deathlygristly]

The spousal person and I chose each other when we were 18. We're 44 and 43 now (I'm seven months older than him which I'm sure scandalizes antis, like I could roll over on my own while he was still a fetus so clearly I am preying on him) and we are still very happily monogamous.

Here's the thing though.

We're both autistic, neither of us grew up religious (well, the spousal person went to Catholic school K-8 but he never believed in it), we both lost a parent before we met (my father died when a month after I turned 7 and his mother died when he was 17, a few months before we met) and on our first date when we were 18 we both agreed that we did not want children and that we cared more about being happy than about outward markers of success and status.

Now 25 years later we don't have kids but we do have a lot of cats, and I often tell him that my dream is for him and the kitties to be happy and he says his is for me and the kitties to be happy. :)

We got married when we were 21, in a drive-thru chapel in Gatlinburg/Pigeon Forge. No rings, no fancy outfits, no guests, nothing like that. Just paperwork and then driving around to the window for the officiant to say the official words, lol. I didn't change my last name.

I've been learning more about autism lately and listening to the Autistic Culture podcast and things, and maybe it's the autism, I don't know. Neither of us really understand conformity or social pressure. Neither of us are real good at socializing long term with other people. We like our routines and our rituals. We're comfortable with each other and very much not comfortable around strangers. Dealing with other people is A Lot for us.

The main thing though is that it was all completely our own choice, from the moment I emailed him and asked if he wanted to hang out without our other friends to now, when I am sitting here with a cat in my lap and he's in the kitchen making a dinner that we both talked about and chose, and then we'll eat it while watching two kdrama episodes that we talked about and chose.

Also I get really confused about things I see on here about marriage and relationships with dudes, because I don't recognize any of what the haters are saying. The spousal person does all the housework except vacuuming. I don't do all the emotional stuff. We take care of each other and support each other. He's really cool and fun and I love him more than the universe and when we're watching a kdrama and something funny happens and he laughs and I look back at him and I hear his laugh and I see his face....it's the most beautiful perfect experience in existence and I want to be near him for always.

But if you didn't choose it, if you felt pressured into it by society or religion or family, if you don't even like the person you're building your life with, if you don't support each other and you don't talk and you don't feel free to be yourself and you're just performing to please some weird external Other....yeah, I can see that being awful.

If what you really want is monogamy and lifelong commitment, you absolutely cannot force it on an unwilling pseudopartner. Domination is not commitment. Abuse is not commitment. Performing to please an external other is not commitment.

To me commitment isn't hard at all. It's the easiest thing in the world. It's just hanging out forever with my most best friend who is also the coolest cutest human to ever exist in all possible realities.

But based on what I've learned about other people since I got internet access...it's not going to be easy if you can't accept yourself for who you are and if you care more about conformity and social status than your own happiness and if you haven't taken responsibility for your own emotions and you aren't willing to work on healing your own trauma.

And if you do work on healing your own trauma and take responsibility for your emotions and get comfortable with who you are and with respecting other people as their own unique self and you find that what you want is polyamory or being single or whatever, go for it! That can be commitment too, to a steady set of multiple partners or to yourself and your own integrity.

I don't know. I think the point is that domination and abuse and forcing others never works and never results in long term happiness, no matter the number of people involved. You gotta respect the autonomous selves of others if you want mature committed relationships, of whatever kind.

Gotta stop here because he says dinner is ready. :)

everybody talks about men in trad marriages having affairs with their secretaries but it’s worth noting a lot of women back then had side pieces too. you can force a woman to submit to you legally but you can never force her to love you or maintain fidelity against her will. you can get rid of no fault divorce and get rid of abortion but you can’t get rid of fun.

[kamospeach]

Hey girl, just read your Eren one shot and I was loving ittt. Could I ask for a one shot of Eren x black female bestfriends who have a flirty relationship but Eren finally makes a move when she gets asked out by someone else? #smutty please ☺️

we might share the same brain cell :P

you don't want me to see nobody else .ᐟ

plot: bestfriend!eren is tired of only being best friends.

content warning: pining, mutual pining, jealous eren, oblivious reader, slut shaming (barely), titty sucking, oral f!recieving, fingering, cowgirl

peachy's yap: i've literally thought about this so many times i love best friend eren in every way !

“her? nah she's my best friend."

"girlfriend... i don't have a girlfriend. oh y/n? that's my best friend."

"yeah we live together but we're strictly best friends."

those were just three of the many different statements eren replied to strangers. strangers being people your friends brought the two of you around. your friends themselves couldn't even tell others what you both had going on.

"y/n and eren? well, they're best friends, and uh... they hug a lot."

"yeah they do that often, she always sits on his lap."

"when did he start holding her waist in public? that's new."

"truthfully i've seen them kiss. on the lips!"

all of it was true you and eren did hug a lot even cuddle when it was cold. you sat on his lap proudly in public, especially at the club you wouldn't dare let some stripper twerk on your best friend. he held your waist when you and your friends walked around the mall looking for things to buy.

you did kiss twice though once at a dinner party on accident when you turned to talk to eren and the same when he tried to kiss your cheek. another time when you both were crossfaded in your room you looked over at your best friend. his eyes were low and his pink lips shiny from chapstick and he looked very fuckable.

but even after that your friendship stayed the same and you didn't falter. you were best friends and even promised to be in the next life. and today was just like every other day.

"ren!" you yelled and eren walked to you from your shared kitchen. you laid on the couch wrapped in a blanket watching a scary movie. he stood at the end of the couch looking at you with a raised brow.

"yeah ma," he asked and you pointed at the tv his eyes followed your finger. you could barely hear the tv from where you sat. "what you scared?" he laughed at you and you frowned.

"no i ain't scared!" you defended although you were truthfully scared that wasn't what you wanted. "remember how your fat ass stepped on the remote and it broke yesterday?" you said and he looked around trying to act like he didn't hear you.

"what about it?" he asked still looking at the TV.

"i can't hear it and we haven't got a new remote. so can you turn it up pleaseeee?" you asked and he scoffed turning up the TV and looking at you to see if you were satisfied. you nodded in approval happy now that you could hear the TV. "thank you, hun."

"mhm you're welcome," he mumbled walking over to you and kissing your forehead. things like that were everyday interactions for you and eren. it was friendly and you never thought of it any other way. you watched the movie until eren came into the living room with two plates.

he handed you one and sat directly next to you in the corner of the couch. you lifted the blanket placing it over eren's legs. he grabbed your legs placed them over his lap and looked down at you.

"what movie is this again?" he asked and you scoffed rolling your eyes.

"i don't know it's on a random channel, no remote remember." you playfully remind him to which he scoffs. he promised he would go out today and buy a new remote after work.

since you took today off you sat in your room all day waiting for eren to return. just for eren to come back with two bottles of Don Julio, a family box of Cheez-Its, and a value pack of sour gummy worms. everything but a damn remote.

"you don't gotta remind me every time." he laughed and you shook your head.

"i'll go get it tomorrow." you laugh as a comfortable silence settles between the two as you both enjoy the meal. after you both finished he left to clean the dishes and returned minutes later. he sat down in his previous spot except this time he pulled you in between his legs. you leaned your against his chest looking up at him.

"hm?" he hummed in a questioning tone and for a second you weren't exactly sure what you wanted to say. lost in his green eyes that you swore swirled hypnotizing you into becoming a mute. his fingers rubbed small circles on the bare skin of your thigh. his other hand under your oversized teachers resting on your stomach.

"you work tomorrow?" you asked and he nodded looking at the time seeing it was getting close to his bedtime. he was trying to stay up later so you wouldn't call him an old man but he was exhausted. "can i ride with you?"

"yea, you can." he cleared his throat standing you up and standing up behind you. "finna go to bed," he mumbled stretching as your eyes never left his happy trail until it was hidden by his shirt again.

"can you sleep in my room? i got scared." you now admit to being scared by the low-budget horror film. he obliged as you both went to your room.

the next day was how you expected stressful, tiring, and overall draining. it was going on 3 pm and you only had one client left. you had two appointments and even did three walk-ins you were beat.

you looked across the tattoo shop at your best friend who looked even more exhausted than you. he was finishing up his last client it was his second large back piece of the day along with 3 smaller tattoos.

eren was always the busiest it was his shop and everyone loved his work. although you, connie, annie, and mikasa were good at what you did, it wasn't beating eren's talent by a long shot. you stood up walking over to his station sitting next to him watching him work.

after another 20 minutes, your client arrived, he was a regular client for you. if you were being honest you gave him discounts here and there because he was fine as hell. whenever he called and needed you to squeeze him in you never told him no.

"wassup y/n." he smiled his white teeth nearly blinding you with its reflection of the sun. you returned his smile patting the back of the seat.

"heyyy come take a seat," you said and got started with the process. you were first sitting in silence until he asked about your day. taking the opportunity to rant about your stressful day.

"man if i known that i would've waited until tomorrow or when you ain't have as many people," he said and you shook your head.

"i'll never tell you no, you know that." you send him a bright smile and he returns the gesture.

"i must be your favorite?" he laughed and you nodded slowly still keeping your main focus on his tattoo.

"you might be..." you say and he sends you a smirk. he was getting cocky and you fed into it.

"then let your favorite client take you out?" he looked at you and as much as your body wanted to freeze up from shock. you stayed calm lightly nodding your head. "not for no free tattoos or nothin'. i been liking you for a while and i've known you for three years now and..." you cut him off as he started to ramble.

"i'll go out with you." you laughed trying to lighten the mood. he was obviously a little anxious but you admired him for asking.

"oh ok cool, bet." he nodded to himself and you smiled the whole time you finished his tattoo. you were just happy someone you found attractive thought the same about you.

after that, you both said your goodbyes and you walked over to eren who sat in his chair waiting for you to finish. he grabbed your bag from you and you both made sure everything was good to be locked up. you switched the lights off following eren to his bike.

"what were you and that guy gigglin' bout?" eren asked handing you your helmet and you shrugged.

"nothin', much he asked me out and that was about it," you tell eren and he freezes turning to look at you. you weren't sure why he looked so shocked at that statement so you chuckled.

"what?" you asked getting on the back of the bike and he shook his head. not bothering to say anything to you he just wanted to get home. he sped home going a little faster than you liked your arms wrapping tightly around him.

once you both made it back home eren wasted no time jumping off the bike. he didn't even look back at you and rushed into the apartment. you followed behind him oblivious to his anger.

"what you want for dinner i'll cook," you say and he shrugs his shoulders walking to his room and slamming his door shut. you stood in front of the door in shock, you and eren never stayed mad at each other.

you shook your head going to your room and deciding on taking a shower. you sat your phone on the counter in the kitchen along with your keys and bag. you went and did your regular shower routine before going to cook. when you came out eren was sitting at the island eating food.

"you doordashed?" you asked and he nodded. looking down at your phone and then back at his food. you frowned seeing your phone had lit up meaning you had gotten a notification. you walked over grabbing your phone seeing it was a text from the client who had asked you out.

6:23 pm

it was good to see your pretty face today how does friday at 7 pm sound?

you smiled at the message about to text back until eren snatched your phone. you looked up at him with your eyebrows furrowed in anger. "eat your food." he nodded in the direction of the bag and you squinted your eyes at him.

"fuck we forgot the remote again." you groaned. eren watched your every move you felt him watching. but you ignored it not wanting him to know that you were nervous from his intense gaze. "what's your problem today?" you asked getting it over with.

"you gonna go out with him?" he asked and you turned to look at him like he had lost his mind.

"why would i not?" you say grabbing your food and sitting next to him. he hummed nodding his head almost like you were irritating him. you both ate your food in silence just as you were about to swallow your last bite eren spoke.

"you ever thought about how it'd make me feel?" he asked and you choked on your food not sure what he meant.

"what?" you asked and he sighed looking away from you.

"i'm just sayin' like we best friends and stuff..." you cut him off assuming he thought you both had to sit down and contemplate whether or not you would date this guy or not.

"you expect me to run to you like you're my father and ask if it's that i date him?" you said now getting angry that eren was acting this way.

"that's not what i'm getting at bruh. i'm sayin' like one guy comes and asks you on a date and you just said yes?" he said and you squinted your eyes at him.

"you callin' me easy?" you asked grabbing your empty plate and throwing it away. not only were you fed up with his attitude his words hurt you.

"no ma that's not..."

"don't 'ma' me. you sittin' here callin' me easy and getting mad that someone showed interest in me. i've never had a boyfriend because they're always scared of you. let me have this one please." you practically beg eren. and then there it was again. that swirling in his eyes that was saying everything and nothing at all. you began to storm off to your room but eren asked a question that made your stomach churn.

"have you ever... thought about me? in that way?" he asked you and you blinked in shock.

"in what way?" you asked, you needed him to be straight up and tell you what he really wanted to know.

"have you ever thought about dating me and uh... being with me?" he asked and you cleared your throat. you never thought you and your best friend would be having this conversation.

"yes i have... maybe a year ago," you admitted and he grabbed your wrist pulling you back to him.

"when we kissed? in your bed?" he asked and you nodded slowly.

"i thought about you for days, months really. i hid the way i felt, i didn't want you to know," you admitted to him.

"i've always felt that way about you," he admitted and you looked at him your eyes running over his face. his eyes, nose, lips, everything that made you feel the way you did a year ago. "don't go out with him... go out with me."

you didn't know what to say but you knew you wanted to kiss him. it had been a year since you felt those lips against yours and you needed him. you were standing between his legs as he sat on the barstool in your kitchen. his hands gripped the exposed skin of your waist as you both stared at each other

you couldn't wait another minute to press your lips against his. the softness of his lips and the urgency in his movements made it all the more sensual. your hands ran along his shoulders finding their way in his hair. you took out his bun letting his hair fall as you ran your fingers through his hair.

"have you ever thought of me like this?" you asked referring to the intimate moment you were both about to have.

"so so so many times," he said breathlessly lifting you like you weighed nothing. he sat you on the counter gripping your thighs and spreading them apart. he stood between your legs and went back to kissing you. his hands found their way to your ass and massage the flesh. your hands rubbed the back of his neck playing with the hairs on the nape of his neck.

he pushed his tongue in your mouth his tongue roaming around your mouth. the kiss was sloppy spit sloshing and swapping between your mouths. he pulled back as a line of spit followed, both of your chests raising and falling at a fast pace.

he grabbed your jaw pushing your head backward and attacking your neck. you whine at the feeling of his teeth grazing the muscles of your neck. he kissed down your neck and behind your ear, you could hear his rigid breathing. his hands reached under your shirt noticing you don't have a bra on.

"no bra?" he asked smirking and you sighed as he pulled your shirt over your head.

"i just g...got out the shower." you stuttered as he rolled his nipples between his pointer finger and thumb. he pulled at them watching your eyes flutter close at the feeling. he roughly grips your breasts fondling them and looking at you.

"put em' in my mouth," he instructed looking up at you through his lashes. your eyes widened at the thought and he nodded letting you know he was serious. he stuck his tongue out as you grabbed your boob placing it on his tongue.

his mouth latched around your breast sucking and lightly biting at your nipple. his hand grabbed your right boob fondling and playing with your nipple until he switched. he sucked so hard that you felt your need cunt clench around nothing wanting him in you so bad. your hands played in his hair pulling him away from your chest.

"why'd you do that?" he frowned looking up at you. his eyes were 3 shades darker.

"i need you..." you whined and he smirked at your neediness. he lifted you off the counter kiss you as he walked over to the couch placing you on your back.

"can i take off your shorts?" he asked and you nodded. he took off your shorts looking at your skimpy panties that were soaked. your juices creating a wet spot on your pretty pink panties. eren spread your legs his nose nudging the spot sniffing your scent.

eren let out a guttural groan and the smell and pulled off his shirt. his body was nothing new to you but seeing him hover above you with his shirt off made it so much more sensual. he unbuttoned his pants taking them off followed by his boxers. he was huge not as big as you imagined but to be fair you imagined him to be 13 inches.

although he wasn't as long as he was in your wet dreams, 8 1/2 inches was bigger than most. he was bigger than most of the guys you followed on twitter. you reached up grabbing his dick and your hand couldn't even wrap all the way around it. you stroked him slowly and he threw his head back his cock already twitching from the feeling.

"let me taste you," he mumbled and you looked up at him with a smile. you wanted to tease him, he was a naturally dominant man. even one second to be a tease was enough to make you feel superior.

"what was that rennie?" you asked in a seductive tone rubbing your thumb across the slit of his tip playing with the stickiness of his precum.

"i said let me taste you," he said louder this time and you nodded. spreading your legs. eren gripped your panties easily ripping them down the middle. your lips and swollen clit on full display your entrance dripping your wetness. "such a pretty pussy... so wet for me." he hummed leaning down to lick a long stripe down your folds.

he sucked on your clit and now and then teased your entrance with his tongue. he groaned into your pussy while he eat you out your body squirming under the feeling. your legs tried to squeeze together trapping his head between them, the feeling so overwhelming.

eren pushed your legs open letting up from your clit. his thumb swirled over your clit and you moaned loudly from the feeling. without warning he pushed his middle finger in fingering you roughly.

"you like that baby?" he asked with a raised brow and your head was thrown back as you moaned loudly at the feeling. he didn't get an answer from you so he pushed in a second finger. you whined at the pressure of a second finger. "you keep ignoring me i'll add a third." he said deeply and you pushed your limits thinking there was no way he would.

he fingered you vigorously so fast that you could hear your juices sloshing. your cunt tightened around his fingers. loving the feeling of his fingers pumping in and out of you. since you didn't answer eren did as he said he would add another finger in. you squealed he was stretching you so good and the feeling was overwhelming.

"m'close ren." you moaned feeling that feeling in your stomach.

"tell me how much you love it then i'll let you cum." he said and your voice was giving out from your moaning and screaming. "c'mon ma just three words." he taunted you while he fingered your wet, needy pussy. he ground his hips into the couch getting harder by the minute watching you leak all over the couch just from his fingers.

"i love it ren fuck!" you yelled and he smirked as your body gyrated from the orgasm begging to be released.

"cum for me baby, cum for your best friend rennie." he said as you let go cumming hard, your cream coating his fingers as your body shivered from the pleasure. "gooood girl," he said pulling his cream-coated fingers out of your cunt. he pushed them into your mouth as you sucked and slurped your cream off his fingers.

he pushed them down your throat making you gag on all three of his thick digits. you smiled at him as he leaned down kissing you. his tongue dancing with yours as he tasted you on your tongue. you sat up pushing him down on the couch. he leaned against the back of the couch as you straddled his waist.

"you sure?" he asked and you nodded wanting to show him what you could do. although you never had a boyfriend didn't mean you never had sex. you wanted to show eren what he had been missing.

you planted your feet on the ground lowering yourself onto him. he moaned in your ear and you whimpered at the way his cock stretched you. he was way thicker than those three fingers he used earlier. you lowered yourself fully onto him until your ass met his thighs.

your eyes were closed and your body ground into his, enjoying the feeling. after you adjusted to the size you began to ride him. your arms wrapped around his neck and his hands gripping your waist.

"fuck baby you feel so good, so wet, fuck." he groaned as you fastened your pace bouncing on his cock. you couldn't slow down you couldn't take it slow, not with the way you felt every inch of his cock stroking your insides.

"mmm ren." you moaned leaning your chest against his kissing him biting on his bottom lip. your pace slowed a little until eren moved his grip to your ass helping you ride him. still kissing you roughly while he moved you to keep the same fast pace.

his big hands almost covering most of your ass, he slapped one encouraging you to ride him faster. he watched the way your beautiful brown ass rippled from the force.

"you're doing so good ma. make us cum." he tells you as your knees got tired and he grabbed you. "you tired baby?" he asked whispering in your ear.

"mmm mhm." you whimpered out and he nodded. eren turned around so you both were lying the length of the couch. he planted his feet fucking up into you. "ren!" you yelled feeling him roughly fuck into you. it was extremely loud the sound of your bodies colliding and your yelling out from eren's rough thrust was enough for the two of you to get noise complaints.

"you close baby? i'm close." he rambled loving the feeling of your walls clenching and unclenching around him. "play with your clit." he demanded. you listened not in the mood to defy him. you rubbed your clit vigorously watching eren bite his lips as sweat ran down his forehead. his hair stuck to his forehead and his broad shoulders tensed as he fucked up into you with immense force.

"m'cumming ren." you moaned loudly and he grunted.

"me too cum with me ma." he said as your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you whimpered out in pleasure. "fuck i love you shit," he said and your eyes widened as his warm cum filled you up. his dick twitching and pulsing as his seed painted your insides white.

"y... you love me?" you asked still sitting on his cock as your mixed fluids dripped down his dick and his balls. your body automatically grinding into his at the feeling of being full.

"of course i do i've told you that so many times," he said giving you a confused look and you shook your head.

"no that was as friends i mean do you love me like a lover?" you asked and he smiled at your explanation.

"i never meant it as a friend," he said and you pouted at his statement and you nodded in satisfaction.

"then i love you too rennie."

[kisssukuna33]

HusbandSukuna! Who's never been the one to understand today's relationships. 50/50? No, his woman will never touch a single bill with her delicate fingers as long as he's alive and well.

HusbandSukuna! Who never understood the whole "giving your relationship time before proposing" thing. You aren't a real man if you drag out your relationship and take what you have for granted, Atleast that must have been what he was thinking when he put a big rock on your finger after dating for only 7 months.

HusbandSukuna! Who takes his role as your fiancé VERY seriously. He asked you to move in with him just right after he proposed. He does everything in he can to make sure you feel comfortable in his house. He even went as far to renovate half of the house to your liking despite your much protesting that it's not needed.

HusbandSukuna! Who checks everyday to see if you are wearing the ring he put on you. it almost become a habbit for him to kiss the ring in your finger every single morning. Not just in the morning, whenever you two hangout in the public he intentionally kisses it to give other people the signal that his girl is strictly taken.

HusbandSukuna! Who wants to get married as soon as possible but he respect your time and choices. He doesn't want you to get overwhelmed by this at all, so he waits patiently ( had to restraint himself from asking like 5 times)

HusbandSukuna! Who gets so freaking happy when you finally confront him about being ready for marriage. The moment those words slip from your mouth his hands instantly go to your waist to pull you closer, closer till your foreheads are touching, He places a warm kiss on your temple and the next thing you hear makes your heart warm and fuzzy.

"You are the best thing that ever happened to me, I promise to be the best husband and I swear on my life I will take care of you and protect you till I die, I love you"

HusbandSukuna! Who jumps straight into the wedding planning. He hears from his married friends how stressful wedding planning was to them and he determines to not make you experience any bit of the stress, He tries everything in his power to make things go smooth as possible.

HusbandSukuna! Who breakdown in tears the moment he saw you walking the aisle to everyone's shock. The grumpy tatted 6'4 scary big guy who has given them nothing but attitude crying over seeing the love of his life walking down aisle? Who would have thought.

HusbandSukuna! Who immediately intertwine your fingers with his as he looks into your eyes like he sees nothing but the whole world in them and wait no minute to whisper "The prettiest, mine"

HusbandSukuna! who finally breaks free from his staring as the wedding officiant clears his throat to let him know that there's a whole wedding left to finish.

Everyone expect him to do a short vow and get done with it. Sukuna isn't known as the most expressive guy after all, but to everyone's surprise the vow lasted whole 15 minutes!! It was filled with nothing but love and appreciation for you and the little grin plastered in his mouth at the end of the vow makes it obvious how proud he was of himself ( I mean practicing this costed him a years worth friend too, after he suggested Sukuna to add some dirty degrading sex joke about you in the vows he ended up punching the guy as a result, so hell yeah he's proud of this!)

HusbandSukuna! Who keeps the honeymoon destination as a surprise till last minute, and your heart fills with joy as you realize he took you back to the beach you two first met, a place special to you both.

He booked the hotel room with the best view to the beach as expected.

HusbandSukuna! Who's heart feel warm all of a sudden, it's only a year ago he believed himself to be someone who's unable to be loved. Oh how much have changed since then.

HusbandSukuna! Who takes your hand and drags you to the balcony for a dance.

The smell of the beach, evening lightening, sounds of the ocean..All adds to the atmosphere as you two get lost in yourselves.

HusbandSukuna! Who takes a glance at the beach and sees a young family, not much older than both of you playing in the sand with their little girl.

HusbandSukuna! Who has a small smile tugged at his lips as he mentally promises to himself that he will return here again after you two finally complete your own little family.

No grammar checks, forgive me I'm too lazy

What do we think about part 2?

[chosolar]

ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈ wait for your love

nanami kento x fem!reader

exhusband!nanami who was your best friend since high school. you met during your 2nd year when he was getting teased for being a loser and you defended him. he stayed close to you after and has been close to you ever since.

exhusband!nanami who was forced to come with you to all the parties that you were too shy to go to. he never minded being your DD, as long as he knew you were safe then he didn't care about not being able to drink.

exhusband!nanami's parents had always nagged him to find someone after he graduated university. he took over his dad's company and as happy as his parents were, they wanted a daughter in law! he hated all the set ups his mom made him go to so he came to you with a proposition — get married to him for a few years to make his parents happy and he'll give you however much money you wanted. you needed the money he was offering so you accepted. the wedding was small and intimate with only your close friends and some family members.

exhusband!nanami worked his ass off ever since you accepted his proposal. even if it was just a marriage of convenience, he wanted to make sure you lived happily with him.

exhusband!nanami was the perfect husband. he was attentive, loving, and always spoiled you with everything you could ever want. the ladies in your neighbourhood loved him, wishing that their husbands were a fragment of what nanami is.

exhusband!nanami spent almost 5 years of marriage in bliss with you until you started pulling away. he never pushed you to talk though because he knew you were going through something. so he waited until you were ready to talk to him.

exhusband!nanami who felt in the dark when he was served with divorce papers. he was busy with paperwork, not bothering to look up at whoever was knocking on his office door. it wasn't until the manila envelope was placed on top of his desk that he looked up to see whoever served him.

exhusband!nanami wanted at least an answer before he signs the papers. you just told him the most vague answers. "I feel like we've grown apart" "we want different things in life" "I just can't do this anymore" he was confused with every reason that you gave.

exhusband!nanami couldn't wrap his head around the separation. he thought everything was going well but once he signed the papers to finalize the divorce, he felt the weight of losing you come all at once.

exhusband!nanami who hated being with anyone else but you. even if it did start out as a loveless marriage, he fell for you hard throughout the years. every "I love you" he's ever said, he's meant it. every kiss, every hug, nanami was surprisingly a good actor but he could never fake the affection he felt for you.

exhusband!nanami despises coming home. it was eerily empty and quiet, the sound of his footsteps were the only thing he could hear. he frequently thinks about moving away to get his mind away from you but he can't. he stays at the same place you've always know where he's been just in case you ever come back.

exhusband!nanami started drinking and smoking to waste his time. he rarely drank during college and he only did during parties with you. now that you're gone, he's turned to his vices. he knows that you hate the smell of cigarettes and you hate people who couldn't handle their alcohol but why does it matter if you're not with him anymore?

exhusband!nanami still remembers every little detail about you. no matter how hard he tried, he could never forget you and everything about you. you're the love of his life even if you don't feel the same about him.

exhusband!nanami felt like everything stopped when he saw you again on the street. you're still as beautiful as ever. your hair's longer and you've changed your style, but other than that you're still his pretty ex wife.

exhusband!nanami breathlessly greeted you back when you came up and said hi to him first. he thought you would've ignored him and just went along your way, but you stayed. your eyes stare up at him as you watch him fumble over his words. his heart skips faster as he sees you grin over his flustered state.

exhusband!nanami watches you leave after catching up. he wishes that it lasted a minute longer because for the first time in what feels like forever, he feels like he can breathe properly again.

exhusband!nanami starts sobering up and taking care of himself. he threw away the bottles of alcohol and cigarettes packs so that he can get away from feeling sorry for himself. if he ever sees you again, he wants to impress you (and make you regret your decision).

exhusband!nanami is shocked when he sees your face on the doorbell camera. the weather was relentless and he sees you shivering in the cold so he opens his door immediately. he hands you a change of warm clothes and turns up the thermometer of the house. 

while he's making hot tea for the both of you, he notices the bathroom door open and out you step, his clothes basically engulfing your body. nanami looks away, trying and failing to get rid of his lewd thoughts.

"sorry those are the only clothes I have that could fit you." nanami apologizes but you shook your head. "no don't be! if anything I should apologize for inconveniencing you."

nonsense, nanami thinks, you could never bother me.

nanami disregards his thoughts, "don't worry about that, I'm just glad to get you out of that snowstorm."

he hands you a cup of tea and you take notice of the mug he has in his hand. you think out loud, "you kept that mug?"

"hmm?" nanami glances up at you then to the cup, "oh yeah. how could I throw it away? you made it for me."

"but that was back in high school."

"and? I've kept everything you've ever given me." nanami cooly responded.

you kept quiet as you take sips of the tea he made for you. the taste is familiar until you remember — he made your favourite tea, just the way you like it. you dart your eyes between the tea and the blond man.

why is he like this? why is he still making your heart flutter after all this time? you wanted to get away but you couldn't, not until the storm calms down. the news reported that it'll continue until early in the morning meaning you'll have to stay inside — with him. knowing nanami, he would never let you out because he still worries for your safety.

sleepiness was creeping up on you as you both sat in the living room. nanami sees your head bobbling through his peripheral and offers you the guest room that you promptly accepted. he leaves you be, letting you explore the home that is exactly the same as when you used to live in it.

nanami laid in his bed, moving constantly to find a comfortable position enough to fall asleep. but he couldn't.

the only thing in his mind was you who was only a few doors down away from him. were you sleeping soundly or do you feel as insomnolent as him? he wants to get up and check on you but he restrains himself. with the wind blowing, all he can hear is the rage of the snowstorm hitting the windows of the house.

nanami directs his attention from the windows to the knocking of the door. "nanami? are you awake?"

he instructs for you to come in, the light from the hallway seeps into the darkness of his bedroom. he sits up and taps the space in front of him on his bed to tell you to come sit there. "why are you still awake?"

"couldn't sleep after I got into bed. you?" you wonder as you go to sit on his bed. he chuckles, "same. do you wanna talk? I remember you used to fall asleep to me talking."

"you remember?"

"how could I forget?"

you lift your legs to place them onto the bed and cross them, wrapping your arms and pulling your knees onto your chest. "why do you still remember everything about me?"

"I was your best friend before I was your husband. even if I wanted to forget, everything about you is engrained in me." his hand moves up to tuck a piece of your hair behind your ear. "you were my first and my last, it'll be that way till I die."

"you're so dumb," you mumble into your arms, "I divorced you and you still treat me so well."

nanami grasps your wrist and brings you to his lap, his arms wrapped loosely around you. he kisses your temple softly. "does that bother you?"

"I don't know," you confess. nanami exhales before he changes the topic. "if we're being honest, can you finally tell me now why you wanted a divorce?"

you shook your head. "not really, you might hate me."

"I won't." nanami reassures, "just be honest with me dear."

you sigh.

"the marriage was feeling too real."

nanami's expression twists into confusion.

"it was an agreement between us that if one day one of us wanted to stop, we will," you continue, "and one day, I thought about it. there's going to be a day you come up to me and maybe you'll tell me that you found someone else. I don't want to go through that, I don't want to lose you but we've already gone so far. I figured it was best for me to leave before that day does come.

"you'll never have to worry about that," nanami tightens his arms around you, "it's always been you."

you hugged him back, the scent of his cologne intensifies as you nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck. "can we start over? but for real this time."

"we don't need to start over," nanami places a kiss on the top of your head, "we can just pick up where we left off."

as soon as the storm stopped, husband!nanami takes you to city hall to sign a new marriage certificate.

husband!nanami makes sure to treat you right this time. if you think that the act he was putting up was good, then nanami not having to hide his feelings is better. he's not one to shy away from physical affection in public as he always wants to hold your hand or stay very close to you.

husband!nanami who will always reassure you that he'll never leave. you are the light of his life, the reason he wants up everyday. he'll never take a day with you granted.

husband!nanami finds it adorable when you watch over the neighbour's daughter. he'll wait until her parents pick her up and then he'll bring up the thoughts that's been plaguing his mind for a while now.

"honey, what do you think about starting a family?"

ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈

as per usual, not proofread!! ◡��

[meo-eiru]

Theo doesn’t talk to her.

Not because he doesn’t want to.

Because he can’t.

Because every time he even thinks about opening his mouth, his throat closes up, and his hands shake, and he feels like he might just throw up on the floor.

She’s right there, inches away, talking to someone else, laughing like it’s nothing, like it’s so easy to be… perfect.

Theo grips the hem of his sweater and looks down, brown curls spilling over his face, hiding what he doesn’t want the world to see. His eye burns, his single, lonely green eye, the one thing that makes him stand out in all the worst ways.

She can’t see it.

She can’t see him.

He wants to be seen, but only by her. Wants her to notice, but not too much. Wants her to hear the words he can’t even say.

"Y/N..."

The name is a fragile thing in his head, something that might shatter if he says it too loud.

He watches from the corner of his eye as she reaches into her bag, fingers brushing against something, a pen maybe, and the thought of how easy it would be to hold that hand makes his chest feel hollow. He knows the shape of her hands better than his own. Knows the way her lips move when she’s lost in thought. Knows how she tucks her hair behind her ear when she’s concentrating.

But she doesn’t know him… maybe that’s for the best. Because if she ever really saw him, saw the way his fingers twitch when she’s too close, saw the way he lingers just a second longer in the places she’s been, saw the way his thoughts wrap around her name like thorns, and his eye—

She’d run.

They always do.

(Back with a short fic for my favorite cyclops)

I have to admit I was so immersed in this I actually tried to like it as if it was a post and not an ask in my inbox

My god op you write so beautifully, you really made me feel his loneliness.

Theo is indeed very lonely, he usually doesn't mind it. He made peace with the fact he would probably spend his entire life alone around elementary school. He's alright, it's not like he's jealous of the people who go out with their friends, do romantic stuff with their lovers or just... exist without the fear of the other person finding them disgusting.

But your sheer existence makes all his resolve crumble down. His sweet, beautiful, perfect y/n. Someone who can do wrong. Even if you did hurt someone you probably had your reasons.

He loves you. He loves you so much. For the longest time he couldn't even bring himself to think like that in his head because someone like him doesn't have the right to think of you in such ways.

But even as the monster he is Theo still has emotions. Some too strong for his weak body to handle, so he tries to make it better.

He sketches you as he secretly watches you from a few seats behind, he writes your name over and over again like a prayer, he secretly follows you home and takes you pictures. Sometimes he intentionally skips his lesson to go rummage your locker, if he's lucky he'll find a piece of clothing and will try to relive himself while hugging and smelling it for the next hour or so.

He doesn't want to be seen, but he wants you to see him. He doesn't want to be noticed, but he wants you to notice him. He doesn't want to be touched, but he wants you to touch him.

He often fantasizes about you catching him as he tries to steal one of your belongings. He wants you to make him regret it, but also become aware that he is there. He wants you to talk to him even if it's to call him a creep. Because Theo is a coward, he's a coward who pathetically stalks you instead of actually having to courage to speak up. So he wants you to do it. He wants you to one day turn around and see him, your eyes to meet his.

You noticing him, you knowing him, you insulting him, you loving him.

[moanz111]

i stumbled upon this while scrolling and it's such a well-written post that i just had to share my thought on this too!

first of all, i've been a fanfic reader since i was very young so i know what it feels like to be on the other side. i've been anxious and nervous to reblog or write comments and have never even thought of messaging the authors i read and liked just because i was terrified of being perceived. but trust me, writers are so incredibly grateful for every little interaction they get. i know it can be nerve wracking but you will never be judged for what you have to say! every single piece of feedback and opinion i get means the whole world to me and every time i get a comment, a reblog or an ask makes me so happy, it seriously makes my whole day.

i've been on the writer side since summer 2023 and a couple of months ago i came back after an extremely long hiatus and was so scared and worried because almost a year had passed since i had last promised updates yet i had failed to come back due to many reasons. but then i saw that people still cared and even though i lost most of my readers from back when i first started writing, i was so happy to see that new people were getting interested and were actually willing to talk to me and share their feedbacks. so thank you, to those who have been doing that <3

i don't judge people who decide to stay silent but trust me, there's nothing to fear! writers don't bite, we're human too so of course, naturally we thrive off interactions too, just like anyone else. there isn't a barrier between the two groups - all of us are fans of the same things and share the same interests, this is always a two way relationship.

writing is my hobby and something i like doing but sometimes the silence is killing me especially after coming back from a hiatus 😭 i don't write for notes, i do it for my own enjoyment but still, hearing something nice about your works always feels good and validating!

and about the genres - i see too what's more read and what's popular but it's so sad to hear that authors force themselves to write something that they don't originally really want to just to have someone read their stories. every story is worth giving a chance and authors shouldn't be required to fit themselves into certain boxes just so people pay attention. no one can be forced to read anything of course but my whole point is to be kind to authors and give them a chance because sometimes you can find such gems when you least expect it.

of course, there will always be genres that are more generally liked but we need diversity too so please, writers do what you want and what you love - the right people will appreciate it.

and on that note...i've been mostly writing smaus/texts so i feel like like sometimes it's even harder to get feedback and i think these are not as read as before but i still think it's worth keeping even this genre alive just because it's so fun (at least to me).

i just hope our community here stays alive for longer and starts thriving because it's so sad to see so many people leave :(

just be brave, interact and encourage others to do so too! support your favourite writers because they all are amazing and deserve all the love in this world!

to a dying? atinyblr

i don't usually speak about these things, but a lot of blogs (amazing writers) are leaving this platform or taking time off bc of lack of engagement which serves as a big demotivating factor. especially and specifically in this atiny fandom, some things have come to my attention and i just want all readers and writers to take a look at this post and refresh some reading and writing etiquettes, as well as revive the essence of being a part of this fandom.

feedback:

i understand that there are a lot of silent readers on here, but since tumblr is dying and our fandom is not very huge, the least you can do to show the writers some support is like the post. 

which brings me to the point that the like function didn't even exist in the past. this site still runs on reblogs. as readers, to show your favourite writers some semblance of support, you should be reblogging with tags. a simple ‘#ateez x reader’ or ‘#ateez fics’ is enough. it's literally not asking for much– reblogs are the only way writers can get reach.

if you cannot do that bc of your blog's aesthetic or whatever, side blogs exist. if you still cannot do that, a simple anon ask appreciating the writer sometimes saves them.

also, what has happened to the quality of reblogs? readers consume years of writers’ work and efforts in mere hours and don’t even leave any feedback? art in general in all forms is very underappreciated and with all sorts of problems like plagiarism, ai writing and everything, true art and writing is dying and needs to be appreciated now more than ever. we’re literally the last generation witnessing ai take over in all fields of arts. appreciate content creators before it’s too late, don’t be a content glutton!

updates and requests:

asking writers for updates when they specifically mention that they would prefer posting at their pace is wrong for so many reasons– we all have a real life. you, the reader, do too. just like you don't always have time to read, writers don't always have time to write. do you ever see the writers asking their readers 'why have you not read my latest chapter?' 

most of the times, writers mention in their bio/faq post or elsewhere that they do mind being asked about updates. respect your writers, please, and do a little scroll before you send such demanding asks (also, sugarcoating when asking for updates does not make it any better!)

if you are only asking about updates, it demotivates a lot of writers bc these same people will disappear when it is time for feedback. writing is a form of art. we can write, artists can paint, musicians can compose music, but all of it has no meaning unless it is shared with an audience and appreciated. readers are just as important as the writers but there is no way of knowing fics are valued unless feedback is given.

the same goes for requests. you can only send a request when the requests are open, which is usually mentioned in the writer’s bio/faq post. it’s literally not that hard to check if requests are open and it’s basic decency to not send a request when the writers specifically mention that requests are closed. when sending a request, please be courteous. a ‘please’ or ‘thank you’ are examples of being courteous when sending requests.

the fanfics in atinyblr:

i understand that you can read whatever you like, but why is it that in the atiny fandom, fics that do not contain smut hardly ever get attention? as a writer, i enjoy writing and reading smut, and while i am not specifically a smut blog, i have noticed how fics containing smut get far more reach than fics that do not contain smut– not just in my case, but other amazing writers as well. 

there are such amazing fictions in this fandom. all fics are crafted with dedication and care, yet stories without smut often get sidelined. writers are not able to express themselves in their writing freely anymore and they simply conform to a genre they know readers will consume, as they are forced to consider adding smut to their stories so they can get more reach in this fandom. i have heard accounts from a lot of writers who were inclined to add smut to an otherwise smut-free fic just for reach.

this is by no means hate to the smut writers. i am also not placing blame on them. smut drabbles have always been in this fandom, and there are amazing smut writers out there, doing their thing. it is the readers here who are failing the writers. readers are quick to talk about the lack of ‘good fics’ or ‘plot’ yet will not even bother searching for these works. there used to be a good balance and appreciation for all genres alike.

i know that smut is what's hot and trendy these days, and drabbles in general, no matter the genre, are easier to read when you want to take a short break. but there is such a lack of longfics in this fandom, especially as of lately, and as someone who has personally witnessed the ratio of longfics decrease exponentially, i felt the need to point this out. appreciate all writers! appreciate all genres! longfic writers need as much validation and encouragement as drabble writers, and vice versa! don't be too harsh on longfic writers for not pumping out fics at the same speed as shortfic writers.

and on that note, smut drabble writers experience a lack of quality feedback despite the high engagement, so readers, please don't hesitate to point out exactly what you liked about a fic, even if it's a short drabble! be kind to those writers, give them time to write and be kind when sending requests! they may post more often but they, too, have a life.

tags:

this is specifically for the people who will post a very normal picture of a member, no caption, but tag it something like #ateez smut, #ateez hard hours, #ateez x reader. and for the people who tag their asks with irrelevant tags– literally learn to tag your post properly, and stop crowding the wrong tags. you're just proving the point that if you don't tag a post with the smut tag or something similar, it won't get reach. if you've posted with a caption, that makes sense (though it still doesn't warrant some of the tags being used there).

as for writers, also learn to use your tags appropriately. fics that do not contain smut should not be tagged with smut related tags. believe in yourself. i get that there is the problem of reach but do not overcrowd tags with irrelevant material.

disclaimer:

this is by no means about me. if i cared about the notes, or lack thereof, i would have stopped writing a while ago. while it is challenging to be a writer here, especially as of lately, i still enjoy posting whatever i write no matter the genre or the word count. but it's a bit disappointing that my planned out fics get much less attention than a simple smut headcanons post that i wrote in the heat of the moment with my friend in literally a few hours as a joke (which has reached almost 10k notes btw in a span of 2 years). sure, it has exposed my blog to new readers but that's about it.

this post is for all the amazing writers who have left, are thinking of leaving, or are struggling to voice these problems because they are afraid of being marked as 'problematic' or a 'hater' or something worse. i am not afraid to voice my opinion on here, and if you think that i am wrong, feel free to interact with this post and correct me because i am not claiming that i am right about this.

these are just the observations i have made as someone who has been actively writing on this platform for about 4 years now, and since i have a decent number of followers, i hope this post gets more reach. do not be afraid to reblog this if you agree, and even if you do not, reblog this so someone else gets educated. i may have missed some points so feel free to add if you want too.

[mlthree]

premedmajor!reader x businessmajor!simon

author’s note: i have been going through it recently so it’s important to note that this is completely self indulgent. like, completely self indulgent. 

simon is a business major. your stereotypical one, at that: endowed, frat boy, fuckboy. 

you're a premed. not as stereotypical as him, but people could piece it together from your behavior patterns if they had a bit of intellect. you’ve been told your entire life that medicine is what you were going to do, and as jackson avery said, “when you grow up hearing the same thing over and over, you can’t really think about doing anything else.” so when people tell you that you fit your major, you have to grit your teeth and say thank you.

you knew you should’ve hated him when you met him. you’d been dragged along to a frat with your friends and were outside taking a break from all the sweaty bodies and 110 decibel speakers when you ran into him. he was smoking a cig — which was funny, you thought, because a pen or a vape you would've expected, but... a cig? he offered you one but you shook your head, “those things are bad for your lungs.” he had scoffed. “there are other routes that can kill you faster, y’know.”

but, for whatever reason, you didn’t hate him. almost like you could tell there was more to his story than the reputation his friends had told you about, basically having given you a verbal dossier on all the boys from the frat when you were getting ready to go out mere hours earlier.

and you were right. he’d had a terrible childhood: father abusive, mother a victim, and younger brother an addict. his father viewed him only as the heir to his business empire, not as a son. he had to get his mba to become his father’s right hand man in their business tradings and unlock his trust fund. even though he had never been given the chance to decide his fate for himself, he was smart enough to know he’d be a fucking idiot to throw the cards which were given to him away.

you were shocked upon hearing his story. mainly because your background was incredibly similar — father abusive, mother a victim, a younger brother you missed every day, whom you had to leave at the house you wished to never see again. your father cared more about your future than you as a person — become a doctor, at any cost. and he meant any cost. your friends, your sanity, even your life. “both of your parents are doctors. anything else you do will be the same as working at a mcdonald’s. we have a reputation to maintain.”

simon’s dream had been to become an astronaut. what kills you whenever you think about it is his father had had the means to help him become on, but he just hadn’t cared. you’d had many dreams: racecar driver, actress, federal agent — all shot down the first man who was supposed to teach you what real love looked like. it had been your senior year of high school when you’d finally come to terms with your fate, having realized there was truly no way out of it, giving yourself some solace by remembering there were worse career paths to be forced down. plus, by the time you’d gotten your medical degree, simon would be in control of his father’s business and you two would be free to do whatever you pleased, with the means to do whatever you pleased. you want last minute garage passes to the abu dhabi grand prix? done. simon wants to take the both of you on a trip to kashmir this weekend for a month? not a problem. the common factor of your fathers using money to control you both finally, after decades, being damned.

so you two found solace in each others’ company. 

on tuesdays you both had a gap from 12 - 2, so you'd have lunch together. or, moreso, si would force feed you your lunch while you hastily wrote up your lab report for orgo which was right after.

fridays were your movie nights — your exams, reports, and labs for the week all done, you always crashed on fridays. you couldn’t even begin to think about actually using your brain, so si would pick you up around 6, take you to target to get whatever you were craving, and then it would be back to his apartment. your favorite movie night was watching la la land in a makeshift pillow fort where the blanket had collapsed on you two a few times throughout the movie, causing multiple tickle assaults where simon claimed the perpetrator must've been a ghost haunting his apartment. he didn’t understand why everyone said the ending turned it into a horror movie — that was before he watched it. he had been sobbing silently by the end of it, and you had to apologize for the movie choice while kissing all over his face before he even thought about forgiving you.

sundays were always interesting. the mornings were lazy — you two tangled in the sheets, unwilling to let each other go until it got too late to ignore the blistering rays of the sun coming in from his window. the nights were hectic — you were always finishing assignments and quizzes you’d put off until the last second, and he always had hours of meetings before the workweek began. at this point, you’re sure the target regional sales managers have been wondering why their data shows an uptick in sales of instant coffee and strawberry apricot red bulls on sunday afternoons. that's how much caffeine was consumed on sunday nights.

it was healthy, in a way — the anger you couldn’t hold towards your father for whatever reason you held towards simon’s, and the anger simon couldn’t hold towards his own father he held towards yours. both of you knowing the other had a person that fully understood them, understood their reactions to seemingly normal situations, understood their anxieties, and understood how they operated after 19 and 20 years of only being told they were deserving of conditional love.

and that’s the other thing — the unconditional love was scary, at least at first. you loved him loudly. talking about your boyfriend to all your girlfriends, all the time. instagram stories you’d clearly worked on for a while before hitting post. getting visibly jealous when another girl tried to make a move on him, not caring that everybody could notice you practically turning green with envy. 

he loved you more quietly. a package by your doorstep he’d never mentioned buying with whatever new trinket you’d saved to your paycheck week pinterest board. waiting outside for you after you mentioned you knew the day’s lab was going to be a rough one (grignard reagents), ready to scoop you up off your feet and take you home. the nuances in both your childhoods leading to the difference in how you two expressed your love for one another. you were shocked by how much was said in the unsaid, how loud his love could be with the smallest of actions. him, on the other hand? he was just shocked someone could love him as publicly, as undeniably, as you did.

and it wasn’t only healthy because you two shared similar life stories. you didn’t know how to describe it, but when you were with him, you felt like you’d known him your entire life. within just a few weeks he could predict your every move, your every word. he knew what you were feeling before you could put a finger on it. he was your ghost, always your shadow, so much so that he knew everything about you.

and you were his fawn, always jumping or spinning or pacing or running circles around him with those big doe eyes of yours, laughter bouncing off the walls, a ball of energy, his own personal sun.

he brought you security, love, the external masculinity you desperately needed in your life. you brought him a reason to wake up in the mornings.

⁀➷ more

₊˚⊹♡ taglist: @ghostlythots @redartifex @pricesprettyprincesss @negomisan @smutty-littleslut @thatgurlyoudunn0 @diseasedclitoris @j-k-6

[rhiannonsknife]

hii!! i know you are busy with the but im a cheerleader nat fic, but do you think you might maybe write more for Lottie?

also thoughts on meangirl Lottie.. i feel like when she first meets someone she can be a little guarded, wanting to keep her image so when you call her out on her bs she feels attacked and then starts a rivalry between the two.. anyways to summarise meanlottie tension with the new girl on the team when Lottie takes it too far and says something really mean at a party and new girl storms off but Lottie finds her and shows her how much she DOESNT hate her because shes actually a softie but she kind of treats new girl as a punching bag bc shes new and called her out

Im genuinely so sorry if this doesnt make sense i am so bad at explaining but i have a vision i swear😔

🫎 anon :)

i love this idea so much 🫎 anon!! hopefully i got your vision here!!

lottie matthews, you should’ve realized sooner, is untouchable.

at least, that’s how she wants people to perceive her.

everyone on the team knows better than to test lottie; even jackie, the whs’ golden girl in her own right, lets her have her moments.

you, on the other hand? you’re new. maybe that’s why you didn’t seem to get the memo right from the beginning.

it starts small enough: a subtle jab at practice, a teasing remark about your form, the kind of thing that could be dismissed as playful banter if not for the smug tone in lottie’s voice. and then there are the looks: the way her dark eyes flick over you during drills, sizing you up for reasons you can’t seem to wrap your head around.

it doesn’t take long for you to call her out.

“got something to say, matthews?” you ask one day, sharp enough to draw a few surprised glances from your teammates.

for a second, lottie looks genuinely caught off guard. and then her mask slips back into place, her lips curving into that insufferably confident smile. “i’m just looking out for the team,” she says. “can’t have the new girl slowing us down.”

from that moment on, it’s war between you.

lottie calls you out for each fumbled pass in practice. in the locker room, she’s leaning against the row of lockers closest to yours, waiting for you to pass to call out a snarky comment. and even during team meetings, when you make a suggestion about changing up a play, lottie scoffs. “sure,” she says, leaning back in her chair. “let’s just toss out what’s been working because you think you know better!”

things only reach a breaking point weeks later, at one of the parties.

you don’t even remember what starts it: some offhand comment about your outfit, maybe, or the way you’ve been talking to nat a little too long for lottie’s liking. either way, her words hit harder this time, meaner than usual.

“god, you’re so desperate to fit in,” she says suddenly “it’s pathetic!”

the words land like a slap, loud enough for everyone nearby to hear.

for a second, all you can do is stare at her, your chest tight and your pulse pounding in your ears. lottie doesn’t look away. she stands her ground, her arms still crossed over her chest.

nat shifts beside you, clearly uncomfortable, but she doesn’t intervene. no one does.

you don’t trust yourself to speak, not when your voice feels like it might crack and give her the satisfaction she’s so clearly looking for. instead, you turn on your heel and push through the crowd, ignoring the whispers as you walk out.

lottie finds you a little while later, sitting on the back steps of the house with your head in your hands. you don’t hear her approach until she’s right beside you and says: “i shouldn’t have said that,”

you flinch, whipping around to face her. “what do you want, lottie?” you snap. “haven’t you done enough for one night?”

her usually upright posture falters as she stuffs her hands into the pockets of her jacket, her gaze flicking between you and the ground. “i didn’t mean it,” lottie says, quieter this time. “i just…i don’t know.” she sighs, running a hand through her hair. “you get under my skin!”

you let out a bitter laugh. “glad i could be of service then”

“that’s not-” lottie cuts herself off. “i’m not good at this, okay? you called me out, and i didn’t know how to deal with it, so i pushed back. too hard. i know that.”

when you look up, you’re surprised to see something raw in her expression. regret.

“i don’t hate you,” she says finally, her voice soft but insistent. “i don’t even think i dislike you, if i’m being honest. i just…i don’t know how to handle you!”

before you can respond, lottie crouches in front of you, close enough that you can see the faint flush on her cheeks. “you’re not pathetic,” she murmurs. “far from it. and i’m sorry if i made you feel like you were!”

you’re unsure how to process the vulnerability she’s laying bare. this isn’t the untouchable, put-together lottie you’ve come to know. this is someone softer, someone who’s trying, even if she doesn’t quite know how.

lottie seems to take your lack of an answer as a bad sign, her lips pressing into a thin line. “let me make it up to you,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper. “please.”

[shurisneakers]

hey I wanna say I absolutely love your writing ,English is not my first language but your writing cracks me up every time I absolutely adore your work! I wanted to throw in an idea for misery loves company because I really like the grumpy×grumpy ,what about them being loners/grumpy in a wedding,maybe it's Steve's or someone else on the team and they share a quiet dance on the balcony or something so yeah that's my idea ,again love your works ♥️♥️♥️♥️

a/n: hello! thank you for your kindness and for sending this in, I hope you like it <3

this is part of misery loves company but is just a stand alone fic. you don’t need to read anything before this

warnings: swearing, light angst

You slip out before the first toast.

The balcony is quiet, the air sharp against your skin. Below, the city hums, distant and indifferent. The music is still loud behind you, but out here, it’s muffled, softened by the wind.

You don’t belong inside.

The thought comes unbidden, bitter in your mouth.

So the balcony is cold, the air sharp against your skin. The city sprawls below, distant and untouchable. The music inside is muffled now, voices blending together, champagne bubbling in glasses. It’s still too loud.

You lean against the railing, fingers gripping the cold marble. You tell yourself it doesn’t matter. That you don’t care.

You exhale, press your palms against the railing, giving yourself five seconds before you call an Uber to get home.

Behind you, the door creaks open.

"You gonna jump?"

You hear the shuffle of his shoes against the floor as he leans beside you.

You close your eyes. "Go back inside. Make someone else's night worse."

"Yours already looks terrible, I've got a headstart," Bucky says, stepping up beside you.

You don’t turn, but you can feel him watching you, his presence taking up too much space in a very spacious balcony.

"You left early," he grunts out.

"So did you," you mutter.

"Yeah," he says. "People started looking at me like they wanted to ask me to dance."

You scoff. "You just think everyone’s in love with you."

"You're not proving me wrong," he points out.

"You're the most insufferable man I know."

"Honoured."

You finally glance at him. His tie is loose and he looks like he wants to be anywhere but here.

"Why are you out here?"

Your grip tightens on the railing. "Why are you?"

You know he sees it.

"You gonna actually answer," he says coolly, "or are we going to keep doing this?"

You exhale sharply, looking ahead. "DJ’s shit."

"It’s a live band."

"Then they should’ve hired a DJ."

His mouth twitches, but his eyes don't move off you.

"Try again."

"No," you say flatly.

He tilts his head at you, expression unreadable.

It makes you feel like your skin is on fire. Weddings are hard. Weddings with him around are even harder, for reasons you can't put words to.

A beat passed and he finally pushes himself away from the railing.

You're about to make some biting comment, when instead--

"Dance with me."

You blink. "Are you concussed?"

"Not recently."

You scoff, crossing your arms. "If this is some kind of sympathy thing-"

"Jesus," he mutters. "Yeah, I wanna pity dance with you, that's exactly what's happening here."

"Then what?"

He shrugs, "You think you're the only one who's angry?"

Your jaw tightens, teeth harsh against each other.

"We don’t have to talk," he mutters, like he's tired. Like things are hard for him too. "Just dance with me."

You stare at him, skeptical. He stares back, unbothered.

Instead, you grab his hand, passive-aggressive, like the universe owes you something for putting him in your life.

"Step on my feet, I break your kneecaps."

"For the record, I was a good fuckin' dancer."

"There is not one person left alive that can corroborate that," you scoff.

It's a joke, but you're acutely aware that maybe it's exactly why this is hard for him.

He pulls you in, a little stiff, like neither of you actually know how to do this anymore.

The music filters in from inside, something soft, but the two of you aren’t moving right to it.

He sways, slow and easy, like it makes all the sense in the world.

It pisses you off that somewhere, it starts feeling that was for you too.

"You're terrible at this," you mutter.

"So are you," he grumbles.

You scoff. "You said you were good at dancing."

"Yeah, well," he exhales, "people say a lot of shit."

You roll your eyes, but you don’t let go.

Neither does he.

The wind picks up. His palm presses a little firmer against your back. You don’t know what to do with that.

"You think you’re mad now," he mutters, "just wait ‘til I do this."

You frown, "What are you plann-"

You barely have time to react before his lips brush against your forehead.

It’s quick, warm, and a little unpracticed, like he thought about it too hard but did it anyway.

Your fingers tighten against his shirt. Not because you want to hold on. But because you don’t know what else to do with your hands when something shifts in your chest.

"Jes—"

"Shut up," he says, and it's the closest you've heard him come to pleading. "Five more minutes."

The words sit between you, heavy and unspoken.

You don’t know if he’s talking about the dance or something bigger.

Five more minutes.

Like you’re not running out of time. Like something in the world could belong to you, even if just for a little while.

You close your eyes. Breathe him in.

And five minutes stretch on longer than they usually do.

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

@zepskies

Okay I'm here and I am ready for the finale of this wonderful series!

“Was worried about you,” you whisper a confession against his lips. Dean briefly pauses, meeting your eyes. “Thanks for waiting up,” he says, with a hint of a smile.

I like this line, because it's what made Dean stop. In my head I feel like this version of Dean has pushed away so many people and the reader is the first person in a long time to genuinely say that she was "worried" about him, and it strikes something in his chest because he couldn't remember the last time it happened. That's the headcanon in my head anyway lol.

Also the spice was.... 😱🌶️🔥. I literally cannot write smut to save my life, but you always write it so well! I also liked that you didn't do it as intense as omegaverse usually is, because we both know how it can be 👀

“It’s too damn late,” he says, breaking the silence. “You realize that right?” You shoot him a frown. “Too late for what?” “For me to let you go,” he says. 

OH MY WORD DEAN SHUT UP! I promise it's okay! She loves you and she can see that you're not a bad person because you literally have been nursing her back to health with her broken ankle 😭 Not to mention you guys are fated! She's not going to let you go no matter what you do.

But again... on brand for Dean to hate himself and to think he's not good enough -sigh- just means that you get to spend more time wrapped up with him trying to convince him 😊😉. I also believe that Dean loves intimac, that he does crave that connection with someone, not to mention I still love what you do in your Midnight Espresso series with Dean being a little touch starved for non-sexual touch. I feel like you've also implied this here and it is marvelous!

His brotherly pride and his humor are tinged with something else though. You think you begin to understand. His losses have weighed him down, leaving him aimless and living in that in between, not unlike the ghosts he used to hunt. You know the feeling.  You thread your fingers with his, earning his attention.  “You can have that too, you know,” you say. “I mean, I don’t want to skip ahead, but I feel like things are going well here, despite the whole busted ankle thing.” 

“It’s beautiful, but my God, how old is this thing?” “She. She’s a she.” “Oh, pardon me,” you say in amusement. “Do I have some competition here?” Dean gives you a teasing smirk. “Well, technically, she’s been with me a lot longer than you.” 

I'm literally cackling. I can hear Dean saying this to his significant other. Meeting Baby for the first time holds the same place in his heart as meeting Sam for the first time 🤣 ALSO, I wasn't ready for the palm kiss. Palm kisses and forehead kisses DESTROY me.

I like that this was an alternate ending to the dumpster fire that was the end of Supernatural. That it's Dean and his girl out on the open road listening to a Led Zeppelin song holding hands in the front seat of Baby was just beautiful in the best way and a perfect ending to this mini-series my wonderful friend!! I am going to miss this couple so much, but it really was a fitting end for them 🥰

Against the Wind - Part 4

Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x F. Omega!Reader 

Summary: You wake up in a strange alpha’s cabin in the middle of a snowstorm, all with a busted ankle. He holds shadows in his eyes, even though his hands are gentle. There are iron shutters around his heart, even though he saved you. You might just save him in return.

AN: The grand finale...

Song Inspo: “Against the Wind” by Bob Seger

Word Count: 3.4K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, knotting, claiming, fluff and feels.

Series Masterlist || Bingo Masterlist

Part 4: Running to Live

His cold hands are warming on your skin as he slides them underneath your sweater. They move smoothly up your back, bunching up the material. You break from his kiss only to help him get the sweater off you, followed closely by his pants.

Your sweatpants slide down your legs with just a sharp tug, baring most of your body to his gaze. His eyes drag over your exposed neck and shoulders, your breasts cupped in your bra, down to your panties and bare thighs.

A shiver runs through you, both from his heated gaze, and from being exposed to the cooler air. Even with the fire going and the heater running in the cabin, the frigid air outside is unforgiving.

You have no problem with the way Dean guides you down from the chaise to take advantage of your nest on the floor, right in front of the fire. He draws you into a sensuous kiss, sucking your lower lip into his mouth and grazing with teeth.

“Were you nesting, Omega?” he teases, between the sinful meetings of his lips with yours. You hum your affirmation before his tongue swipes across your lower lip, seeking entrance.

You open yourself to him in more ways than one; you slip your hands across his naked shoulders and explore the smooth planes of muscle, the dips and softness in between. You encourage him to lower down, to cover you with the length and broadness of his frame. His weight is a welcome one between your thighs and against the softness of your body.

“Was worried about you,” you whisper a confession against his lips. Dean briefly pauses, meeting your eyes.

“Thanks for waiting up,” he says, with a hint of a smile.

Your lips curve upwards in return. You reach up to caress his cheek, feeling the prickling of his stubble. Your fingers thread into his hair, and you pull him back down for a devouring kiss.

Dean’s brows furrow as he holds you to him, wanting to feel every part of your skin against his. His calloused fingers map their way down your side, and across your back to unhook your bra. His lips veer away from yours to burn a wet, heated trail along your neck. His teeth come out to graze your skin, down your throat, down the lovely valley between your breasts.

“Dean,” you gasp, encouraging him when his hand cups one of your breasts. He explores the other with his mouth, teasing a pebbled nipple with his tongue. Your fingers tighten in his hair, your thighs rubbing together between the cage of his knees in the mess of blankets. Already you feel slick forming at the apex of your thighs and slipping down in between.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs against your skin. “Fucking beautiful, you know that?”

You can’t help but smile. Your face warms either from the fire dancing shadows across your bodies, or from him, his attention, his warmth, and the heat in his eyes when they meet your again. His hand slides down your body, over your hip and squeezing your thigh as he opens you up further for him.

“Tell me what you want, Omega.” While I still have control, his tone implies. His voice is gravel and sin while his hand moves swiftly and smoothly up the inside of your thigh.

“Touch me,” you breathe.

Nodding, he hooks his fingers around the hem of your panties and slides them down. You help him kick them off. Afterward, his thumb brushes over your mound, making you sharply inhale and squeeze his shoulders encouragingly. His fingers dip inside your wet heat, his brows raising with a smirk, as he feels the sheer amount of your slick already coating his digits.

“Fuck. This all for me, baby?” he remarks.

You hold onto the back of his neck with both hands as you nod, biting your lip. Your hips begin to cant against his hand on reflex, urging him to touch you.

“Alpha, please…” you implore, in a ragged whisper. He swallows your plea with a ravaging kiss, but he still gives you what you want. His thumb circles your clit, earning a moan from you into his mouth.

Soon, two of his fingers plunge slowly inside you, working you open, drawing more gasps and shudders of pleasure from your body. His length continues to strain hard against your thigh, but for him, it’s worth it to draw every sound, every time your body writhes and arches against him, craving release.

With a few more purposeful strokes, your inner walls clamp tight on his hand, and a flood of slick coats his knuckles even more. You gasp his name, your hands squeezing his arms just as tight as your pussy around his fingers.

Your skin is beginning to get dewy with sweat, and he kisses some of it off you when he trails down your chest. You stroke down his arms, down his back, whatever you can reach as you catch your breath. But then, his name falls from your lips with a firmer tone.

Dean raises his head, and you gently push at his chest. His brows furrow in confusion, only for it to be replaced with a smile of surprise when you curl a thigh over his hip and guide him onto his back. His head just manages to fall on one of your pillows, but he still utters a small grunt. You giggle down at him, bowing to meet him for a kiss.

He smirks and holds onto your hips, playfully squeezing your ass. “My wily omega.”

“Thought I was your cheeky omega,” you tease.

He snorts. “That too.”

You giggle some more as you treat him to the same path of open-mouthed kisses down his neck. Except this time, you hook a hand behind his neck, and you trail your tongue around his mating gland. You feel his jolt of surprise, as well as his instinctive growl of pleasure in response to his mate. Or at least, not yet…

His heart pounds in his chest.

“Omega,” he says, a warning not to tease as his grip tightens on your hips.

The command in his voice makes you shiver, but you smile and nuzzle his cheek in affection. You kiss your way down his body, playing special attention to his nipples, his stomach, the soft V and the happy trail of light brown fuzz leading you down between his hips.

Your fingers slide down his hardened desire through his underwear, earning a grunt from him, along with a shifting of his body against the blankets. Your lips curve as you nuzzle him there as well, letting your lips drag across his impressive length.

His fingers tangle in your hair when you hook your nails around the waistband and free his cock from its confines. His boxers join the rest of your clothes somewhere, and finally you get to see all of him, as much as he takes in all of you. Your hand wraps around his girth, your thumb circling around the sensitive, weeping head of it. Dean groans, a sound from deep in his chest.

You don’t know this, but it’s been a while since anyone but his own hand has touched him. That’s not the only reason his body has been calling to yours, but it plays a part in how fucking good it feels, and how much more he wants you.

He feels your intentions when your hand moves down his shaft in a teasing caress, your fingers tracing around his knot. A shudder rattles down his spine, makes his desire burn hotter in the pit of his stomach.

He can’t fucking take it anymore. He needs you, needs to be inside you. Needs to take you the way his instincts demand.

He grasps your shoulder before you put your mouth on him. You blink up at him, with a question forming on your lips, but he hefts you up onto his chest by your arms. He cages you there with a kiss filled with abject need.

“I can’t. Can’t wait anymore,” he says. He drags his fingers through your folds and earns another moan from your when he finds your clit. “You ready for me, Omega? Need my knot?”

“Yeah,” you nod, agreeing against his lips. “Need you, Alpha—”

No sooner had the words escaped your lips, when Dean rolls you back underneath him. But this time, he guides you onto your stomach, then raises up your hips, until you’re on your hands and knees. You catch your breath as you regain your bearings, shooting an incredulous smile over your shoulder at Dean. He smirks back at you, but his gaze is intense, his pupils darkened with the alpha inside him. 

Still, he soothes a hand down your back and steadies you with a hold on your hip. You feel him slot himself behind you, guiding his cock at your entrance. His chest presses hotly against your back.

“Last chance, Omega,” he says, his voice tight with restraint.

You look back at him again over your shoulder, your mouth threatening to frown. You reach back and sink your fingers into his hair with a sharp tug. “Do it.”

He sinks into you with one smooth plunge. It’s a relief for both of you, your mingled moans echoing in the near silence. All that’s left is the sound of your quickening breaths, of skin against sweat-slick skin as you move together.

Dean brushes your hair away from your neck. He kisses and licks his way along your bare shoulder, and finally the back of your neck. You’re trembling by the time his lips find the sensitive flesh of your mating gland. It echoes with the pulsing from your core as he continues to drive into you.

“Alpha,” you gasp on reflex. You squeeze his arm; he has it wrapped tight around your middle. Your pleasure builds ever closer to that crescendo, especially as his thrusts become ragged, at an angle that zips delicious tingles through your core. “Close…just…I need…”

Dean isn’t so far gone. He hears you, and helps you, reaching his hand around to strum his fingers insistently on your clit, along with his final thrusts.

Finally, it tumbles you over. Your inner walls become impossibly tight around him as he draws out your second release—one that triggers his own. Dean groans into your ear; his knot swells and locks into place, and he spends himself deep inside you. He pants hot against your neck, but even though he fastens his lips there, he hesitates, once again making you shudder. 

“Do it,” you repeat, in a coarse whisper. You’re close to tears. “Please. Want you, Alpha. Need you…”

Once again, he hears you.

His teeth sink into the back of your neck, making you cry out. But your pain is quickly overshadowed by a deepest pleasure, thrumming along with his.

 Afterward, Dean holds you in his arms. The warm glow of the fire paints your skin in its light, despite the utter darkness in the rest of the house. 

While you both wait for his knot to subside, you revel in the fact that you know he’s content. You can feel it through the newly formed bond. He traces random shapes in your skin, which still glistens with a fine sheen of sweat. The fire he stoked doesn’t help to cool you down, but you don’t care.

Nothing else matters but this. You turn your head toward him over your shoulder. He meets you there with a gentle kiss, much more gentle than any other you’ve shared before. It feels right. 

When he parts from you, he presses another kiss to your forehead. Then he leans back a little and sighs. You feel his thumb trace the raw flesh around the claiming mark on your neck. A small shiver runs through your body. Maybe on another day, you’ll mark him in return.

“It’s too damn late,” he says, breaking the silence. “You realize that right?”

You shoot him a frown. “Too late for what?”

“For me to let you go,” he says. 

His words both warm you and make you sad. Just how little does he think of himself?

“Dean,” you say, endeavoring to be patient. “You’re my true mate. Do you know how rare it is that we’ve actually found each other?”

Dean remains quiet.

“And after everything you’ve done for me,” you add, “how can I not think you’re a good man? How can I not think this is right?”

He seems to consider your question. His gaze briefly falls, then meets your eyes again.

“You don’t know me that well,” is his answer, with a wry turn of his lips. 

You reach back to caress his cheek. “Then tell me. Tell me about, um…tell me about how you became a hunter. From your dad’s journal, I got the sense that it’s a family thing.”

A vendetta, you wanted to say, but you keep that thought inside.

Dean chuckles, dropping another kiss onto your shoulder. You feel the pleasurable rasp of his stubble.

“Yeah, more like a family business,” he says. 

He tells you why John Winchester started writing in that journal in the first place. Dean explains it in his own words, of what his family was before and after a demon broke into his brother’s nursery. Your heart continues to break for him, over and over, the more story he tells. Your shock can only reach new heights when he tells you about angels and demons and everything in between. 

There are moments where he pauses, needing the time to find his words. He’s talked for so long that his knot finally softens, allowing you to withdraw from him, just to turn in his arms and be able to see his face. He bundles you in the blankets to keep you warm, but he also keeps you close, with a loose arm around your waist as he continues. 

You sense that he’s not telling you everything. How could he? A lifetime of blood and wins and incredible losses; family gained, and family lost, endless saves, and so many near misses. You listen with rapt attention (and a lot of shock) to everything he can share, but your heart twinges when you see how he struggles to talk about his mother’s most recent death. Then his best friend Cas. 

You realize that this man, for all his self-deprecation, is a hero. More so than you already knew.

“After the whole Chuck thing was done, I thought we’d just…go back to status quo. Me and Sam against the world, you know?” Dean says. He gives a rueful smile. “Then Sammy tells me he knocked up his mate.”

You smile. “You’re happy for him though.”

“Course I am,” Dean nods. “He never thought he’d get to have all that. A badass chick who can keep him on his toes, a house, the kid, the whole damn thing. He’s downright respectable again.”

His brotherly pride and his humor are tinged with something else though. You think you begin to understand. His losses have weighed him down, leaving him aimless and living in that in between, not unlike the ghosts he used to hunt. You know the feeling. 

You thread your fingers with his, earning his attention. 

“You can have that too, you know,” you say. “I mean, I don’t want to skip ahead, but I feel like things are going well here, despite the whole busted ankle thing.” 

Dean slowly smiles, shaking his head. He brings your hand up to his lips. 

“Okay, enough about my Hallmark movie life. What about you?” he asks. 

So you tell him. 

You two continue to share and explore, both in words and with your bodies, until morning comes. 

It’s another week in the cabin before Dean insists on helping you down the mountain. Your ankle has gotten a little better, but at this point, you need to see a doctor. It takes a couple of days, going as slow as you need to. He ends up carrying you for most of the way anyway. You tell him over and over that he doesn’t have to, but your alpha is stubborn. 

Once he gets you back to the city, you two take a shuttle to the nearest hospital. X-rays are taken, and you get a new cast for your officially fractured ankle. At the very least, you don’t need surgery. You’re able to call your mom from there and let her know where you’ve been, that you’re all right, and best of all…that you’ve found your mate. 

You cry along with her on the phone, this time for a good reason. The best reason. 

When you’re eventually released from the hospital, Dean picks you up in a sleek, black Chevy that has your eyes wide. 

He grins at the look on your face. “Hey, sweetheart. Come meet my Baby.” 

He parks the car and keeps the heater running while he comes around to you in swift strides. He takes your crutches and slides them into the backseat, then helps you into the passenger seat. 

“It’s beautiful, but my God, how old is this thing?”

“She. She’s a she.”

“Oh, pardon me,” you say in amusement. “Do I have some competition here?”

Dean gives you a teasing smirk. “Well, technically, she’s been with me a lot longer than you.” 

You scoff incredulously. He laughs and takes your hand, pressing a kiss into your palm. You discreetly study him and marvel at how much lighter he seems. You don’t know how much is because of this, what your hand in his symbolizes, and how much is because he’s reunited with something important to him. 

“It’s okay, Omega mine,” he says, with a measure of desire in his eyes. “From now on, you’re my priority.”

Your spine prickles with the same arousal you can feel from him through the bond. You lean across the way and share a thorough kiss. 

Until a horn honks loudly from behind. You both jolt, but Dean’s face falls into annoyance. He shoots up a choice finger at the car behind him in the rearview mirror. You laugh as he begins to peel out of the curved pick-up and drop-off zone in front of the hospital. 

“Where are we going, Dean?” you ask, still smiling in amusement. 

“Wherever we damn well please.” He turns to you with a hint of a smile reforming on his lips. “Want me to take you back home? We can sort out the logistics on, uh…well, this.”

You think about it. He poses a good idea, but at the same time, you’re not quite ready for this part of the adventure to end. 

“How long has it been since you’ve seen Sam?” you ask.

Dean blinks at your question. He whistles lowly. “About a year. Jesus, since my nephew was born.”

You smile and reach over, resting your hand on his thigh. 

“Let’s go see him, then,” you say. “I want to meet your family. Then you can meet mine.”

After that, you two can figure out the rest, like where to live, and how you’ll live. 

Dean raises a brow. “Really? That’s like, a thirteen-hour drive.”

You shrug. “I’ve always wanted to go on a real road trip. Can we get some food first though? I’m starving.” 

He laughs and nods as he stops the car at a red light.

“What do you know? A woman after my own heart,” he says. His amusement eases into a gentler smile the longer he stares at you. You smile back, and you give into the urge to lean in again, meeting your lips with his. He brushes your cheek tenderly with his thumb. 

“I know what this needs,” he says lowly. Your brows draw together in a silent question. 

He pulls away to reach into the side compartment along the driver door. He fishes out a cassette tape labelled Zeppelin IV. You bite your lip and try not to say anything smartassed.

Damn, this man is old school. 

He skips ahead until he finds Track 7, just as the light turns green. A melodious guitar riff fills the car as he turns onto the main road with your hand wrapped in his. 

Made up my mind to make a new start.

Going to California with an aching in my heart…

AN: And that's all, folks! 🥹 I truly hope you enjoyed Against the Wind!

Like I said in a recent update, I have more stories in store for you guys. January 3 will be Part 1 of Outlander -- sequel to The Honorable Choice -- a Western AU with Dean as our resident cowboy! I'll post a sneak peek on that one soon.~

But in the meantime, I hope you'll let me know what you thought of ATW! 💜💜

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[laswells-ashtray]

Soo uhm... autistic ghost if you do that? I mean that man is autism creature. And I love him. And need him being a silly little autistic guy. Like headcannons, and how it'd be in his relationships with people. Like romantic sexual or platonic? Please and thank you.

Ghost doesn't think he shows many symptoms of having autism because he's commonly told "I'd never have guessed", however, that's typically because the people telling him that haven't spent enough time with him to pick up on anything.

Eventually, the people he's closest to notice things but they never bring it up. Notable but not worth making him self-conscious about. That's what John calls it.

Simon doesn't like the texture of some of his clothes, he'll brush up against John and then automatically reach away to wipe his hand on his own t-shirt or his cargos. John stops wearing certain shirts around him, and sticks to the softer, worn fabrics that Simon doesn't mind touching when it's reasonable for him to do so.

He notices that his lieutenant stocks up on certain foods that he likes, always the same ones before they spontaneously switch up after almost a year and he doesn't tend to go back to them. He tries to keep whatever snack or drink it is in his office so that on the days that Simon wants to crawl out of his skin, he can offer the other man something and maybe somewhere quiet to sit in away from everyone else.

Gaz thinks for a while that maybe Ghost just doesn't like him, but that's alright, they're coworkers and they don't have to be friends. He doesn't seem to like Soap either. That's until he picks up on something, Soap and he can get loud after missions. The adrenaline is still pulsing through their system and they joke around, getting rowdy like two lads in the back of a classroom. Ghost tends to stay quiet, only speaking if spoken to and even then it's a faint mutter. He gets twitchy the louder Gaz and Soap get, his breathing becomes consciously slow and his eyes narrow until he's glaring daggers into whatever is opposite him.

Then it clicks, the man is overstimulated. Overstimulated and unwilling to say so despite his own blatant discomfort. And all it takes is keeping quiet after missions, the conversations between him and Soap become soft whispers and the stabbing tension in Ghost's shoulders lessens noticeably. It's after that, that Ghost starts talking to him more, friendlier and willing to joke around. Gaz knows they aren't exactly the closest of friends, Simon Riley is a puzzle he doesn't have the decades of solving like Price does but it's something and that's good enough.

John and Nikolai have to adapt certain aspects of their relationship when it opens up to include Simon, something that both of them are more than willing to do to ensure the comfort of everyone involved.

Simon is open to touch in varying ways. If he's the one to initiate contact then he could end up sandwiched between the captain and the pilot without complaint. He'll grumble and bat at them half-heartedly, all for show but all it takes is Nikolai kissing his cheek and John nuzzling his jaw to shut him up.

Some days a simple hand on his shoulder is too much, Simon will tense up and he won't say a word about it but they can hear how his breath hitches. Those days they won't touch him, if they sit down together on the couch tne he'll sit down on the tattered, ancient swivel chair by the window. Sometimes he'll brave sticking his legs out and poking John's thighs with his toes, other times he won't. It's up to him and they see no reason to push.

It can be a mix other days, a kiss on the cheek might be fine but when Nikolai plasters himself over Simon's back it's just too much at once. He'll retreat tactically and brush a thumb over his cheek instead.

Sex is different than they're used to but it's a welcome change. There's no more lying around and falling asleep disgusting, leaving it a mess to be dealt with the next day. They become adept at clean-up, and Simon prefers to shower after they're done. Sometimes he'll drag one of them in alongside him, other days he needs the moment alone. Make no mistake, Simon is usually the filthiest out of the three of them. he does things with this tongue that have left John's ears ringing and he can haul Nikolai around without thinking twice. But he needs time to decompress and he'll take it as a moment in the shower or a post-shower cigarette.

[f1gur4t1v3]

I am obsessed with the idea that while Dick is the lightest of the older bats, and even with his acrobatic training, Jason is the one who can go flying with the grapple gun. (Physics inaccuracies probably idk dude)

Dick is just sitting out at night during patrol, its a slow night in the area he’s in and he’s heading back home to blud in the morning so he’s more than happy to take it easier than he normally would. He’s perched himself up above a dead lamp post, and he’s carefully watching the roads and alleys below him for any danger.

That’s when a bit further away from him he hears a familiar click of a grapple gun, followed by a by a mass of muscle going flying into the air and my god that’s Jason. Dick is just in awe of how high he gets with it as well. Jason’s jumping over buildings without landing on the roof, and then doing the same to an even taller building. He can’t even tell what Jason’s doing to get so high because right before he starts launching up the side of the building he dips into the dark alley in between them.

Dick is in awe, amazed, but still in a whole lot of shock for what he witnessed. When he tries to tell the Batfam of what he saw the only other person who believes him is Tim, who’d also seen Jason go shooting out from behind a building.

Then Jason does it when the family is near, and god he feels a sense of relief for the dumbest reason. Bruce can’t believe his eyes watching his deep freezer hunk of a son go absolutely fucking flying over a burning building at the end of the night. Steph who was there to get a bit more training with evacuating people out of a fire is attempting to chase Jason down, and is begging him to teach her of the comms.

Jason refuses to talk about his little flying act, and the only time he even considers teaching anyone is when Dick tells him it reminds him of his time at Hallys.

This leads to everyone trying to figure out how to get the flight that Jason does with his grapple gun, and it just isn’t working out. Dick thought he nearly got it before he went cascading for a nice trip through a billboard. Tim and Steph swore they figure it out, but their little hop onto the building only made the task seem more impossible. Damian swears he saw the Batman nearly take flight over a building, and instead ended up crushing an ac unit with his landing.

Jason is loving all of this of course. Watching his siblings and his dad fail horribly at gliding like he does is hilarious to him. It’s just a quick release of the grapple gun, and running up the side of the building for a bit of extra momentum. Of course he pushes himself up against the edge of the roof to really get that height, and if his family just filmed him they’d figure it out easy. Hell, he’s surprise Tim has broken out a camera, or hacked into the cities to watch him.

Cass had figured out how to do Jason’s glide a while ago, she found it helpful to maintaining her unknown presence while looking around on patrol. While she doesn’t like Jason a lot, she respects that this is his thing that he does on patrol, and she has no right going around spilling the trade secrets of the flying ex-robin.