#i need to like sit down and read every night and actually pay attention

[spock-adoodledoo]

meme with the circular self looping arrow where the task is "finish three body problem the dark forest"

[aesthetixhoe]

warnings: fem!dom!reader, sub!ethan, really both the reader and ethan are switches, dirty talk, mommy kink, bratty? ethan, breeding kink oops, unprotected sex (don't do thisss), cum play, fingers mmmm

CURRENTLY THINKING ABOUT making ethan read aloud.

to most college students the question "do you wanna come over and study?" is code for "do you wanna come over and hookup?" not to ethan apparently, because even though you've been dating for six months, he still didn't pick up on the implied actions of the night.

"baby, how much longer are you going to be reading for?" you whine, rolling from your stomach to your back.

"i thought you wanted to study?" he scoffs, looking over the top of his book at you. you groan and flip to your side to face him.

"you know that studying is code for sex right?" you raise your eyebrows at him expectantly.

"well i don't care, i actually need to study for this econ exam." you roll your eyes, already bored with his studious behavior. you lay around for a few minutes just listening to him breathe before an idea pops into your head.

"fine, i guess ill just have to find something else to do." you say as you brush your hand over his dick. he eyes you carefully but turns his attention back to the book, chalking your actions up to petty teasing. even though he is getting hard he doesn't let his mind stray from the book. until he feels your hand undo his zipper to palm him over his boxers.

"what are you doing?" he asks shortly, already annoyed.

"occupying myself since you won't." he keeps reading out of spite, expecting you to break and beg him to fuck you. you love having power over him though, wanting to see how long it'll take for him to break and put you in your place, but you don't want him to be in control this time. he's doing good at avoiding your advances until your hand slides under the band of his boxers and grabs his bare dick.

his eyes flutter shut, and he mutters a "fuck" under his breath. he tries to relocate his eyes on the book to prove you wrong but every time he gets refocused you pull a new move, like putting your unoccupied hand down your own pants. he looks at you bewildered, you've never done anything like this before, but he is not opposed. "baby, what are you doing?" he questions, seeking some sort of explanation.

"just keep reading." you say, almost as an order, and he listens. your stroking stops abruptly, and he lets out a whine. "out loud." he squeezes his eyes shut before reopening them and finding his place.

"Unexpected inflation will tend to h-hurt those whose money received, in terms...terms of wages and interest payments... does not rise with inflation. In contrast, inflation can help those who owe money that they can pay in less valuable, inflated dollars." your hand speeds up causing his voice to pinch and his breathing to speed up even more. your movements stop.

"did i tell you to stop?" he shakes his head. "then keep going." what has gotten into you? you've never been the dominant one in the bedroom, but this is a nice change of pace for both of you.

"Low rates of inflation have relatively little economic impact over the short term. Over the medium and the long term, even low rates of inflation can complicate future planning." he's too caught up in focusing on his textbook that he doesn't even notice you taking your pants off. he feels the weight of you disappear from beside him, and when he looks up, you're staddling his hips, right above his aching cock. "what are you doing?" he pleads, his voice high and whiny.

"keep fucking reading," you order. he doesn't, but you don't even notice as you're lowering yourself onto him. you both moan out as you feel him fully enter you. "shit..." you whimper out, the dominant exterior falling for just a second.

"fuck, babe, please...please move." he ruts up into you, throwing his head back, book long forgotten as his hands have moved to your hips. you sit still for a second, admiring the way he whimpers and whines for a while, hoping he'll eventually beg on his own. but he doesn't, ever the stubborn ethan. he shifts his hips up once again, signaling for you to move, but you won't budge. he whines louder than before to express his displeasure.

you lean down so your chests are touching, slowly kissing from his neck up to his ear. you whisper "if you want me to move so bad, beg for it." followed by nibbling on his lobe. his hips stutter up one more time, but he still doesn't give in. "ok fine, i'll give you another reason to give in." you grab the hem of your shirt and pull it over your head, leaving you in just a bra and you can feel him twitch inside you. he reaches to cup your tits but your hands catch his before he can, pinning them to the bed beside him. you purposefully clench down on his dick, making him throw his head back once more. "come on baby, all you gotta do is beg. don't be a brat. don't you wanna feel your cock sliding in and out of me? beg for it so i can use you, you want that don't you?"

your hands reach behind yourself to unclasp your bra to sweeten the deal even more. upon seeing your bare chest he finally caves. "ok ok, please baby, please ride me oh my god i need you, need to touch you. please, i'll be good i promise!" his hands move to your chest again but this time you let him.

"see that wasn't so hard..." you start moving after what feels like hours to him. slowly at first to ease into it, but you soon get enough speed to start bouncing fast. by the time you get to that tempo, he's a babbling, whimpering mess. you had never seen him like this before. sure when he was especially needy he would whimper or whine, but having him fully under you and under your control. good god.

his hands are tighter on your hips now than they were before, pulling you down harder than you could bounce. your head is thrown back at this point, and you've paused the dirty talk - for now you both were too lost to speak coherently. "shit...fuck! so good baby. thank you... thank you, mommy!" he's so fucked out he doesn't even realize what he said until you halt your movements.

he's looking at you now. "i- i didn't..." he shuts his eyes tight and throws an arm over his face. "fuck... i'm sorry, i didn't mean to call you that..." even with his face covered, you can tell he's bright red, it spreading to his ears and down his neck.

you slowly start to roll your hips again and grab his arm to pull it off his face. "oh... so you're too embarrassed to let mommy see you?" you smirk, emphasizing the name. his eyes peek open to see a teasing grin on your face, and his cock twitches inside of you again at you calling yourself that.

you start bouncing once again, this time with a newfound fervor and not letting up on your words. "fuck, bet you love this, huh? love mommy using you to get off. riding your cock till i'm satisfied, all you have to do is lay there like a good boy..." you coo at him, your pace staying steady.

"yes! yes mommy, love it so much. love you so much, shit!" his eyes are screwed shut, his hands reaching for anywhere and everywhere he can. you could tell he was getting close. and with the way that he's practically worshipping you... you weren't gonna last long either.

"be a good boy and make mommy cum. show me how much you want it." you whisper in his ear. it's like a switch is flipped in his brain because, within the blink of an eye, you're on your back. he pulls your legs up over his shoulders, then proceeds to pump into you with a speed that makes your head spin. "fuck!!" you shout out, giving up on speaking until you cum.

"shit, mommy gon-" his own words are broken with his moan, "gonna cum, fuck! please lemme cum inside, please, please. wanna fill you up, let me."

and fuck, how do you say no when he looks at you with those big brown eyes begging. you'd let him do whatever he wants when you catch him looking at you like that. "holy fuck, yes! please cum in me! please breed me ethan."

and with that both of you moan out, cumming almost in unison. true to his word, ethan spills inside of you, and continues to thrust into you even after he's finished. it's only when you look up at him with your blissed eyes that he comes to his senses and pulls out.

he slowly lowers your legs, and you feel the deep ache start already. he leans down in between your legs, and you clench around nothing when you realize he's watching his cum leak out of you. he reaches two nimble fingers down to swipe over your folds, collecting some on his fingers before bringing them to your mouth, which you eagerly open for him. your eyes roll back at the assertion of dominance, and how easily he can go from begging for you while calling you mommy, to shoving his cum covered fingers in your mouth to clean off.

"i love you so fucking much baby." he utters, brainlessly as he stares down at you.

you grab his hand and pull his fingers out of your mouth, making sure you leave him with one final lick. "don't you mean mommy?" you return. with the hungry look he gives you, you can tell there will definitely be more "studying" tonight.

[healedlover]

EMPTY GAZE ; RUINED WITH LUST

summary: in which the expressionless man finally showed expression during sex pairing: nanami kento x fem!reader cw: nanami is a sex addict and a little perv, oral (m receiving), p in v, make out sesh, dirty talk, clothed sex (f is only wearing her clothes), one night stand a/n: not proof read, first time trying a fic like this haha..spare me..

— 𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ —

nanami never had a girlfriend.

he was good looking, that wasn’t the problem. it was the fact he was very expressionless during sex, which made women think he was just using them for his own pleasure.

which was half true, nanami never intended on getting a girlfriend and just decided to use every woman to let his steam out.

currently, he was relaxing against a tree, watching the dark gloomy beach reflect upon him. he had no plans for the night, so he decided to just watch the beach to pass some time before going to bed.

minutes passed and he was getting bored by the second, he didnt know what was going on in his head but he needed something to distract himself with.

nanami glanced around the beach, looking for possibly anyone to let off his boredom with and caught someone standing near the waves. before he could walk up to them, he was interrupted with a small tug on his shirt.

“hello?”

nanami turned around and almost passed out at the sight, he mumbled a quick hello before looking up and down at your outfit.

star struck at the way your breasts sit perfectly in your revealing top, the way your hair contrasted perfectly with your outfit, the way the wind made your skirt flow up and down, he wasn't paying attention to a word you were saying.

"–so yeah, you down?"

"sure." nanami answered with no hesitation, actually--he didnt even care what he agreed to, but he needed to fuck you immediately.

"perfect! follow me, handsome." your fingers wrapped around nanami's large, veiny wrists and you dragged him to one of the beach houses nearby.

"why'd you decide to talk to me?"

"my friend recommended you to me, you know her?" you pull up a picture of one of the women nanami had fucked before, but nanami just shrugs and shakes his head.

"mm, dont remember her."

"weird, anyway, I heard you're very good at sex so I was thinking–"

nanami took a few steps in front of you and pressed you against the wall, his lips was inches away from yours. you could feel his hot breath graze against your skin, and in a blink of a second, he captured your lips in a deep kiss.

both tongues intertwined with each other, nanami nor you didnt want to pull away, nanamis fingers slid through your hair as he sunk himself deeper inside your mouth.

"wai–mngh-"

nanami's teeth sink on your bottom lip and he gives it a light tug before pulling away and staring down at you--yet again, with rarely any expression.

you scoffed at his incompetence and then felt the same rough fingers slip under your skirt, nanami's fingers teased the waistband of your panties and slowly pushed them down, leaving them to rest between your thighs.

"you heard I was good at sex...right?" he asked breathlessly, you nod and he slips his fingers out of your hair, wrapping those same fingers around your wrist. nanami placed your hand on his hard-on.

"then make me feel good...can you do that f'me?"

"yes.." you responded breathlessly, he nodded and you fumble the belt of his pants and after a few failed attempts you finally clink it open. you rip the belt off and quickly unzip his pants, letting them flow down his legs.

you pull down his boxers and was met with his searing hard length, staring daggers at you. sighing, you kneel down on your knees and brush your lips against his creamy mushroom tip, your tongue darting on the head as your lips wrap around his aching cock.

you lowered your head deeper and swore you heard a gasp slip out of nanami's lips, you look up at him–still with half his length shoved inside your mouth–and notice him scoffing at you before turning his head away.

"keep going..ngh"

your fingers grabbed onto his thighs and nanami winced at your grip. nanami's fingers grabbed onto your hair and he pushed your head until you took in his full length. holding back a gag, your nails dig in his thighs until it felt like it was bleeding.

"touch yourself." he demanded, you let go of his thighs and bring your fingers to your raging heat, you slip a finger in your cunt and rapidly stroke yourself as you continued to suck off nanami.

nanami kept pushing your head back and forth, back and forth. your throat started to hurt and your eyes were watering like a waterfall. you slip your fingers out of yourself and glare at nanami through your blurred vision.

"'m gonna cu-ughh"

he pulled himself out of you and white beads spurted all over your face, you sigh and plop against the wall as you look up at him with half lidded eyes and nanami's eyebrows furrowed as his fingers rubbed your eyelid to remove his mess written all over your face.

"where's the bedroom?" nanami asked, looking around the room the two of you were isolated in.

"on the left"

nanami nodded and lifted you off of the ground, carrying you to the bedroom. he stood in front of the door and lightly kicked it open with his foot, nanami then carefully made his way to the bed and threw you on it.

he slid his fingers under the waistband of your panties and swiftly removed them, still keeping your skirt and top on. you watch as he lines himself with your wet cunt, which was practically begging to be used already.

his tip made contact with your soaking entrance and he carefully pushed himself inside you.

"did you even cum yet?"

"I dont...mgh...know" you mutter, shutting your eyes, grabbing onto the bed sheet beneath you. you heard nanami let out a quiet 'tsk' before he thrusted himself into you.

"s' tight...fuck.."

you clench around him and he pushed himself deeper inside you. you let out a whine and flutter open your eyes to see nanami's flushed face and his expression filled with lust, the one thing your friend told you was that he showed little to no expression.

but here he was, taking in your tight cunt, while his face looked like he was a virgin having sex for the first time. the way his eyebrows furrowed together and his eyes were watering with desire.

you didn't mind this view at all.

nanami glanced down at you, and wrapped his hands on your wrists, pinning them down on the bed. he leaned in closer and left a bunch of kisses all over your face.

his fingers slid under your skirt and his eyes kept darting between your tits bouncing in the same rhythm hes pounding you in, and back at your eyes.

"ugh...'m gonna cumm"

"so am i, baby, so am.. mmph- hold it in, can you do that?"

you nod but your body was rejecting you from holding it in, a needy moan slipped out of your lips while your cum spilled out of your hole, with one final thrust he pulled away and came all over your body. nanami plopped on you, absolutely worn out from the best sex he's probably ever had.

his head nuzzled into your neck and he held onto you for the night.

— 𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ —

aftercare happened trust

[hannamoon143]

You drew stars around my scars ✮⋆˙

Life is hard. Some people don't know how to cope with that. Some people just try to feel mentally better by causing physical pain instead. How ironical, isn't it? Oh but bless you, that lee felix is in your life. Because this man never misses a thing.⋆｡°✩

Genre:Angst,Hurt/comfort

Warnings:Sh,a bit childhood trauma, Depression, Crying, mentions of food,mentions of bad eating habits

Lee felix x fem.Reader

Words: 3,9k

a/n: hey everyone<33 To write this fic brought me some comfort too, and it's healing me a bit more everytime i can use my own experiences,emotions and thoughts to write something that comforts others too, and relate to y/n a lot. And i know i'm not the only one, so i hope this can bring everyone that reads it a bit comfort. And pls always remember what of a beautiful person you are. Hurting yourself is never ever the only solution. If you need someone to talk, reach out to someone, anyone, also me if you don't have anyone. I'd rather have literally any person cry for hours in my arms, or vent to me in my dm's than have them hurt their own bodies, that always supports them. Everything felix says in that fic is true, and they r my own thoughts about this. I love you all, take care of yourselves.<3

Depression takes a lot from you. It takes your motivation, productivity, the will to socialize, and your happiness. It’s unfair isn’t it? Little, happy children become tired, broken adults.

People always think depression is something where you sit in your bed the whole day and cry. Well that is half true. Yes, there are days like that, but that’s far not everything. The worst are those dull days, when you feel entirely numb, but your life has to go on anyways. No joy in your heart, and no tears in your eyes. Just a big nothing in your mind.

After a while you figure it out though. It’s always those numb episodes, until every emotion you thought didn’t exist the days before, crashes down on you. And it’s overwhelming. Every.single.time.

But what if you’d find something that could ‚help‘ you? Something that brought you pain and relief at the same time? That made you feel alive, in the numb episodes and distracted you from the pain in the days where you broke down? The price was just your beautiful skin, and blood...

A problem was though, once you’d start, it would be very hard to stop again. But why should you anyways? Why should you stop when it was the only thing seemingly bringing you comfort for some short time?

It started off by you, picking at your skin absimendtly whenever you felt anxious, or when you just didn’t pay attention. It felt relieving. It was the burning pain when you scatched on your skin so hard it was slightly bloody, making you feel like your feelings actually mattered. And then that one night. That night everything crashed down on you. Your friends wanted nothing to do with you anymore, the few you had before, cut contact. You couldn’t even be mad at them. Who wouldn’t be annoyed by someone who constantly cancelled plans, and gave off a „depressing, annoying attitude“? Well these were their words. Oh but you saw it coming. All the overthinking in the middle of the night, those worst case scenarios, they had come true.

And your family? You never had a healthy relationship with them. So now, that you were grown up, the contact was almost entirely dead. And yeah, there was your boyfriend felix, but you’d never burden him with your problems. He already had enough on his mind with the world tour and all the new released albums, of the band he was in.

And that was it. No one there that you could reach out to, no one to comfort you, when your heart and mind were breaking into millions of glass splitters. Every person reaches their breaking point someday. And that day was yours. You remembered the night clearly. You were sitting on the bathroom floor, crying out all the emotion you had been holding in for too long. You had no friends anymore. No family. And pretty sure soon no boyfriend too. Nothing to hold onto.

Then you reached out to a drawer. You didn’t really register what you were doing as you took it out. A simple, silver blade. A little cut on your wrist. A line of crimson red blood on your skin.

At first you were terrified. What had you done? Why weren’t you affected by the stinging pain on your wrist, and the blood building in the small cut? Why did it in fact feel good? And then you decided to try it again, just to answer those questions right?

That’s where it started.

You knew you had depression. But going to a therapist? You were scared, probably too lazy, and you could never tell all your problems to a complete stranger. And most of all you didn’t want felix to worry either. He was the only one left, and soon he would surely leave too. He was the sweetest, sunny person on this earth, he deserved someone that matched his energy, and wasn’t so… hard to love.

Every single task felt like a hard, impossible chore. Getting out of your bed felt like doing the unbelievable. Doing the most simple things like showering, or brushing your teeth seemed so far away, that you could only master them on your best days. Some days, you went to work, did everything you had to, with a straight, stoic face. That was until you came home, laid into your bed, and silent tears would build wet spots on your pillow.

But somedays, even crying seemed too overwhelming. All you could do was lay in your dark room, staring at the wall. It was just the darkness and you, and somewhere in your mind, a voice whispering that it would help to cut...

And then there were these rare days, on which you felt almost too overwhelmed. It were those days you came home, and added another scar to the gallery of them on your arms. You questioned your life on these days. Because truly, you didn’t see a reason why you should be here right now. No, you weren’t proud of it. But who was there to stop you? Why should you quit if it was the only thing keeping you sane right now? When it was only the stinging pain who could make you slip out of the monotone haze in your mind, for at least a little bit time.

But it would be stupid to assume felix didn’t notice something was off. Lee felix was a pure person. Someone who could make even the rainiest days shine bright. And he cared about the people he loved more than anything else.

When you started cancelling plans it was already alarming for him. You were someone who never cancelled plans with him. You were usually a happy person, someone who made jokes that were actually funny. Someone who made him laugh with your little quirks, that he noticed over time. Someone who comforted him when he felt bad. And most of all you were the most excited person when you two would meet up. You never missed to tell him how much you loved him, that he was your happy person, and your comfort person.

That was before

Before suddenly everything stopped. He rarely got to see your beautiful face now anymore. You took a long time to respond to his texts, and when you did, they were short, and dry. This didn’t feel like you. Felix knew you. And that wasn’t you. This wasn’t the happy girl he met. And he surely wasn’t planning on letting things go like this forever. Something wasn’t right. And no matter what you said or did, to try and get away from him, and shut everything out, he would stay by your side. He would find out what was wrong and do everything possible in this world to make you feel like yourself again.

It was another day today. Another number on the calendar. You stopped looking at it. It didn’t matter anyways. Those were just numbers on paper, and they would never change anything. So you dragged yourself out of bed, feeling even heavier than usual. Like a zombie you just quickly got dressed, not even registering what you were wearing, and drank a mug of coffee. It would make you feel a bit more awake for at least a few hours. Eating breakfast had become impossible in the last few weeks. You were barely eating anything the whole day, to be honest. Sometimes, you just couldn’t stand up and make yourself something. But most times, you just didn’t feel hungry.

You went your usual way to work. At the bus, you took a short glance at your phone. You used to be on your phone a lot for the silliest things, but now you hated it. You hated the brightness, and that everytime you looked at it you had to interact with others. And the worst was, it remdinded you of what you had lost. The spark you had in your eyes on photos from a long time ago.

Something popped up on the screen

A message from felix. Of course. He messaged you every single day. You couldn’t ignore him, no matter how shitty felt, you couldn’t bring yourself to ignore him. So you opened it.

Hey sunshine<3How are you today? I thought of maybe grabbing some takeout and watching a movie together tonight, since i have off early! I’ll even let you pick one of those cheesy romcoms you love so much. Love u^^

You sighed. He was still so sweet, so caring, when he should be really annoyed, right? His girlfriend was a walking zombie, why didn’t he already break up with you?

Hey lix, sorry no time today.

Then you quickly put your phone away. You couldn’t stand thinking of his lips turning into that sad pout, when he’d read your answer. But you couldn’t meet him. You didn’t care how stubborn that was, but you wouldn’t let him see you like this. He would see right through you, and get you to tell him what was wrong.

You stopped making excuses someday. Who even cared? Sooner or later he’d leave, just like your friends. No lame excuses would matter then. Someone like you was unlovable. And that would never change.

As felix read your response he sighed.

That was enough. He wouldn’t let your relationship carry on like that. He wouldn’t let you carry on like that. Something was clearly wrong and he wouldn’t stand so far away and watch you slowly shut down from the entire world. Not anymore. Tonight he would come to your apartment, if you wanted to or not.

You didn’t remember what you did throughout the day. When you tried to recall it, there were only hazy memories, covered in a grey, thick fog. You didn’t even remember how you came home. Everything just happened. Now, you were walking through your apartment door, kicking off your shoes and coat. With a deep sigh, you dragged yourself to the bathroom. You shut the door, immediately sinking down on the floor. You were exhausted. More than that. The past days, or maybe even weeks you had held everything in more than usual. You felt like passing out right then and there, on the cold bathroom tiles. But there was something else. You knew that feeling. When you would have spent too many days in numbness, then at one point, every emotion, everything you thought wasn’t there before, creeps up in your throat from the depths of your soul. You feel the grieve, the sadness, the anger, the guilt, every single emotion crashing down on you at once. And then you can’t stop it anymore.

Tears started to well up in your eyes, and you pulled your knees up for a bit comfort.

These were the moment you hated the most, besides the numbness. Being numb is uneblievably tiring, but when all the feelings, everything comes up at once, that is even worse. You never knew how to deal with your emotions well. When you were a kid you never got the chance to express emotions. Crying was not allowed. If you did, you’d hear „ Stop it, or i’ll give you a reason to cry.“ If you screamed or hit out of anger you’d get punished in some way. Only a polite smile was, what was allowed to show on the outside, what to show to other people. That was probably part of the reason why you’d grown into a person who had these unhealthy, shitty habits, instead of expressing and coping with their emotions well.

You knew you should just let it pass. Endure these feelings. Maybe text someone to try and distract yourself. But somehow, you always went back to drowning out emotions with physical pain. You took the sharp blade from the bathroom drawer, your hands going unbelievable shaky like they always did when you took it out. You only started to cry more. You hated that you did it. You hated that you were a person that couldn’t handle their own feelings like a responsible adult, and had to shut them out with self harming instead. And still you did it again and again. You hated the way your arm looked when you put your sleeve up now. White lines from old cvts. Slightly reddish ones from some that happened some time ago. And those brightred ones. Reminders of not too long ago. They made you so angry. Reminding you of who you were. Of what you were.

So you decided to look away. You just put the blade to your wrist, looking at the blank bathroom wall. It was already so familiar, you knew where it would hurt the most without even looking.

Felix was searching around his apartment for that gray hoodie you wanted to have everytime you saw him wearing it. Maybe it would cheer you a bit up. As he finally found it, he grabbed the brownies he had made for you earlier, and his keys, heading out his apartment, to head to yours instead.

He started his car. It was a short drive so there was not much time for thinking. But there were some thoughts in the back of his head. Wasn’t he overstepping? You clearly didn’t want to see him, maybe you were also just annoyed?

But felix shook those voices off. He knew you. He had known you for years, and this wasn’t you. He had to do this.

And then he was already at your apartment. Slowly he got out of the car, taking the things, and started to walk up the stairs.

Soon he was in front of your door. Should he knock? He knew where your spare key was but he didn’t want to be respectless. So he softly knocked on the door.

„Y/n? It’s me, felix. I know you didn’t want to meet, but… i was worried. Can we talk please, my love?“

He waited for a minute. But there was no answer. Maybe you really weren’t at home? He decided to just try it. To his surprises the door was unlocked. That meant you were home, but also why would you let your door stay unlocked? He sighed, and locked it from the inside. He quietly took off his shoes, and put them on the side. Yours were scattered messily on the floor, and your coat too. Usually you hated when something in your apartment wasn’t organized. Maybe you were in a hurry before. He went into the kitchen, wich was dark, putting the brownies on the counter. „Y/n?“ he softly called out again. Still no answer.

But there, suddenly he heard something. A quiet, mumbling or...crying? His brows furrowed and he tried to follow the sound. There. In the bathroom. It seemed like you didn’t hear him calling you. At first he considered just going back to your kitchen and waiting there for you to come out, but when he heard another deep sob from you, he knew what to do. Whatever was going on right now, he wanted to be by your side. So he took a deep breath and opened the door.

„Y/N, what is g-“ His eyes widened in shock, and your head perked up immediately at the door clicking open, your gaze changing from surprise, to confusion, to somewhat realization and guilt. The sight in front of him horrified him. His beautiful, lovely girlfriend sat on the bathroom floor, her face red and puffy from crying, and a sharp blade in her hand. And your arm… How couldn’t he notice? He just stood there, in the door, staring at you.

You couldn’t read his face. Was he mad…? Of course he’d be mad. You quickly reacted as you got to your senses again. You jumped up, letting the blade fall, and a drop of blood dropping down on your white bathroom tiles.

„Felix…. I can explain, i h-haven’t, it’s not what it looks like o-okay? I’m okay, p-please i know you’re mad but-“

You got cut off. You couldnt’t even say anything more, because suddenly you were wrapped up tightly in your boyfriend’s comforting, warm embrace. You forgot how good a hug from him felt… And when you got a little glance at his face that was it. No anger, no twisted kind of any emotion against you. There was pure sympathy and love. When you also saw a tear rolling down his face, you couldn’t take it anymore. You buried your face in his neck, and let go. You sobbed uncontrollably, your arms and legs trembling so much, to the point your knees gave in, and felix slowly sank to the ground with you. Why did the cvts on your arms suddenly really hurt for the first time? He had you pulled on his lap, rocking you back and forth, stroking your hair gently. „Shhh, it’ll be alright. I’m here now, you are not alone.“

Good thirty minutes later, your sobbing had stopped, and only warm paths of tears remained on your cheeks. Felix lifted your head from his neck a bit, so he could look into your eyes. Though you had just cried your heart out, it was still the most mesmerizing pair of eyes he had seen in his life. He gently tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

„Let me treat those, okay?“ He simply said, glancing at your cuts.

He was gentle. He desinfected every single cut, apologizing every time you hissed at the sharp pain. Then he put some healing ointment on your fresh ones, and some at your older ones too. Then, with gentle, calm hands he bandaged your arms. He ended his treament with featherlight kisses on them. Then he got up, helping you up too. He had his hands on your side, his eyes on your face.

„Love…I won’t ever judge you, or get mad at you for anything, i hope you know that okay? I know that this is probably your way to cope with things, and i know that you know it’s not healthy. But it’s okay. Please just promise me, you will come to me instead of doing that, from now on hm? Everytime you want to do it you call me, text me, whatever. I’d rather have you crying in my arms for hours, venting to me for hours, you screaming at me, or do whatever you need to, than have you hurt and bleeding entirely alone on the floor. I’ll come over, and do whatever i need to, to cheer you up alright? And don’t shut me out from your life. I want to be a part again. I miss the way you’d text me when you see something that makes you smile. Or when you send me pics of the cute cats you saw on the sidewalk. Or when you just simply tell me about your day. And most important of all, i’ll stay by your side okay? No matter what. I will do everything to help you recover, and build up your life in a way that makes you happy okay? Let me help you sunshine. You don’t need to do it all alone.No matter how hard it in the past was, I’m here now, and I don’t plan on leaving soon.“

Tears welled up in your eyes again, but this time you smiled at him. „Okay lixie. Okay. I’ll try.“

Then he softly smiled at you, and guided you to your livingroom, where he made you sit on the couch. He rushed off to the kitchen, and was soon back again with a plate of brownies and his gray hoodie. „It seems like you didn’t eat much lately, you’ve been getting a bit too skinny, love. But don’t worry, now i’m here to feed you with everything you want to eat. You don’t need to move a single finger.“ He mumbled, as he first handed you the hoodie, wich you put on immediately and snuggled into it. It had always been your comfort hoodie, since it was big, fluffy, and always smelled like him a lot. Then he put down the plate in front of you. Felix’ brownies had always been one of your favorite things. They were delicious like no one else’s.Everytime you asked him what he was throwing in there, he always told you that it was his love and care wich he made them with. You believed him, this man made everything better with his sunny personality.

You simply smiled at him, and took one of the brownies, taking a big bite

„That’s my girl.“ He chuckled, ruffling your hair. As you were munching, and he was watching you with a fond smile, he suddenly asked „Do you have a marker somewhere here?“ You looked up, raising a brow. „Yeah, in the drawer over there i guess, why?“ He just stood up, and opened said drawer, taking the marker. He was back by your side in an instant. „Please give me one arm love“ He said, politely like always. You were still pretty confused but how could you say no to that? So you slowly laid your bandaged arm in his hands. He kissed it once and then softly started to draw on it. „What are you doing?“ you asked, mouth full of brownie.

„Those my love, are battle scars. It isn’t beautiful how you got them, but they are a part of you now, and they make you the person you are. They deserve to be called beautiful now too, like every single body part of yours. I love every part of you. And when they are healed, I’ll kiss each and everyone of them, but for now, they deserve to be treated with care. They will only heal properly, if you let them. If you’d always be angry when you’d look at them, they would never really heal. You would never really heal. You need to forgive yourself, and someday you will be able to move on. They show how far you’ve come, that it was very hard, but you never gave up. Battle scars, my love.“

You looked into his eyes. He said all that so sincere, you believed every word. And then as he was done you saw what he did. A lot of little stars, and a pretty moon in the middle were drawn on the bandages. And next to the moon he wrote a little note

„Because i want you to never forget who you are. You are Y/n L/n, a fighter, and the most beautiful woman i know.“

„How did i deserve you lee felix?“ You murmured in awe.

„You deserve the world, and more my love.“

And that really was a turning point. Thanks to felix, your days weren’t dull anymore. He was always there with you, laughing and talking a lot, but he also respected when you wanted some alone time. And when you came to him somedays, crying and telling him that you wanted to do it again, he took you in his arms, wrapped you both into a blanket and rocked you back and forth, until no tears were left anymore, and the world seemed a bit brighter again. Then he mumbled soothing reassurances into your hair, kissing you on the forehead.

And like this, you were willing to try. You were willing to try and recover, and create a life that you loved living, with him in it.

a/n: now a note to: @athenawindwolf because I didn't have the courage to say it that night ( we ignore that i'm writing this while you are texting me,still in that night), i'll be your chan friend, and in the context of this fanfic your felix friend, whenever you need me. I hope yk, I never judge anyone, and i've been through a lot too so rlly i would never ever judge or tell anyone if you tell me smth. We said we r the big sisters of our friends now, so that means we r sisters right? Come to me whenever you need to talk. Now this was for u, and I also have to say i'm thankful someone is sharing one of my interests now<3 Ily di angelo.@athenawindwolf (and i hope i didn't make you cry with this fic)

[delilahsturniolo]

— ୨୧ i know love . . . m.s

in which . . . matt’s deeply in love with you, and he proves it to you.

warnings . . . fluff, descriptions of making out, dry humping, suggestiveness, pet names.

written by @delilahsturniolo. do not copy, steal, or modify my works. if you are taking any inspiration from this, please ask me first before posting and credit me in your description. happy reading! :)

SO CLOSE TO WHAT WRITING MARATHON . . . fic #9

the city lights flicker outside the windows, casting a soft, golden glow across the room. you’re curled up on the couch, feet tucked under you, scrolling aimlessly through your phone, barely paying attention to your surroundings. you don’t even notice when the front door clicks open, not until warm and familiar arms wrap around your shoulders, pulling you back against a solid chest. a shiver runs down your spine at the feel of his body pressing against yours, his breath hot against your neck.

“miss me?” matt’s voice is low, teasing, but you can hear the softness underneath it. you sigh dramatically, leaning your head back slightly to look at him. “maybe a little.” matt laughs, the sound vibrating through his chest, and he moves to sit next to you. his fingers find yours immediately, intertwining with them like they’ve always belonged there. you can feel the calluses on his hand, the warmth of his skin, and it sends a spark straight to your chest.

“how was work?” you ask, trying to keep it light, but your pulse is already quickening from the closeness of his touch. he exhales, a little tired but mostly relieved to be home. “better now.” you can’t help the smile that pulls at your lips. “smooth.”matt grins, that mischievous look lighting up his eyes. his thumb brushes over your knuckles, and the simple gesture makes your breath catch in your throat. “you know me.”

your gaze flickers down to where his hand still holds yours, you bite your lip, trying to find the words to say. “i missed you a lot, actually.” matt’s eyebrows raise slightly, a curious smile tugging at his lips. “yeah?” you nod, your hand sliding up his arm, the muscles there tight under your touch. “before you, i thought i knew what love was,” you murmur, your voice soft. “but with you… i feel like i understand it now. the way we are, the way you make me feel like i’m everything you need.”

matt leans in a little, his breath warm on your skin. “i get that,” he says, his voice thick with emotion. “with you, it’s not like anything i’ve ever felt. it’s real, you know? deeper than anything i’ve ever imagined.” you can feel the heat between you rising, a tension building that you can’t ignore anymore. there’s something about the way he looks at you, the way his eyes never leave yours, that makes your heart race.

you move a little, shifting closer to matt. “i used to think love was just the fireworks, the rush. but now i think it’s in the little things. like how you always text me good morning, even when you’re barely awake. or how you know exactly when i need space, and when i need you closer. or how, every night, you pull me in, like you don’t want me to leave.”

his breath hitches as your lips graze his ear, and he pulls back slightly, his eyes searching yours. “i do that?” he asks, his voice raw with a hint of surprise. you nod, a slow, teasing smile pulling at your lips. “every night.” matt looks at you for a long moment, and then his hand slides up to your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin as he leans in, his lips brushing yours in the lightest of touches. it’s almost like he’s testing the waters, making sure you’re still there, still real.

you breathe him in, the sweetness of his breath mixing with the intoxicating scent of his skin, and without thinking, you pull him closer, pressing your lips against his harder. this time, matt doesn’t hesitate. he deepens the kiss, his tongue brushing against yours, slow, deliberate, like he’s savoring every moment.

the kiss melts into something more urgent, more desperate. matt’s hands slide down to your waist, pulling you flush against him, and you feel the heat of his body against yours, every inch of him radiating warmth. you let out a soft gasp when you feel the press of his chest against yours, the weight of his body making your heart race.

the air swirls around you, but it’s nothing compared to the sensation of his lips on yours, the way his hands move over you like they can’t get enough. you can’t get enough. everything you feel, everything you want, is right there in his kiss, in the way he makes you feel like you’re the only person in the world.

matt doesn’t disconnect his lips from yours as he pulls you onto his lap oh so effortlessly. his hand tangled into your hair, his free hand holding your hip, encouraging you to grind against his lap. you moaned into his mouth, feeling his hand tighten on your hips. you felt matt’s erection against your clothed cunt and his plaid blue pajama pants. matt began trailing kisses on your cheek and down the side of your neck.

“fuck—so fucking beautiful baby, keep workin’ those hips for me..” matt murmured against your skin, the movements in your hips increasing desperately, you could feel your wetness drenching your panties quickly. your lips crashed against matt’s again, you felt the vibrations of his groans against your lips. the way he ran his hands over your body, the way he kissed you, spoke to you…it all felt like a dream.

you knew love, and it was matt.

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

taglist

[justliketoreadsowhat]

Not So Simple 𖣊

𖣊𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐞

𖣊𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: 𝐈 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐝𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐲 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐈 𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐈 𝐦𝐚𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐚 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬.

---------------------------------

College is hard enough, early morning classes, late nights spent studying, countless hours of being on campus, eyes glued a to computer screen with a sore back and raging migraines. So why do you do it? Why not get a full-time job after high school, move out on your own, and try to make good meaning of your life? It could all be so simple, yet you chose the not so simple route.

“Class will resume Wednesday, make sure you all of our sections 1-4 and come back ready to discuss” The chirpy behavior seemed so painful to bear at 8 am on a cold Monday morning. A cringing realization that this profession will soon become your reality, teaching.

Standing to your feet with all the feeling rushing back through your veins that had fallen asleep hours ago due to inactivity. Slinging on your bookbag slowly making your way into the empty halls of the Education Department. The fresh morning sun beamed through the tinted windowpanes with a poorly faded decal of the infamous UConn Husky mascot plastered in each corner. By the time the rusted elevator reached the lower level, there were exactly 10 minutes left to arrive to your next class “Identity and Communication”

This was another hard stop in the hard you’ve solemnly adjusted to after finding out you had to take a graduate class as an elective in order to graduate next year. Nevertheless, the class only had an underwhelming total of 15 students with little to no excitement. Granted it was only week 3, yet it felt like years had passed.

Within 5 minutes to spare, you sat in the middle row as you do every day, causally observing the students dragging their feet through the doorway. The professor never really left his desk unless he felt like actually teaching us something besides numerous PowerPoints. As the slideshow went along you found yourself getting lost in the coloring app you used religiously on your iPad, since nobody sat behind you, there was no use in hiding it. Picking out your next color carefully, a cold breeze moved past you nearly sending your Apple Pencil flying to the ground. Looking up in annoyance you were met with nothing. Swiftly turning your head just enough to look behind you, you were met with a pair of blue irises glossed over, accompanied by a shade of purple glasses that framed her face to near perfection.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt your uh.. coloring thing” her eyes darting to your screen on full display. A small smirk formed across her face “What app is that tho? I might need to download it”

“It’s called um- Color Rouge” answering softly to hide the sheer panic rising through your blood. Out of all the years you’ve attended UConn, not once have you seen their star-studded player, at least not this up close and personal before. Social media doesn’t give her enough justice.

“Bet say less” She nodded, sitting back in her seat, spreading her long legs, knees slightly pushing the back of your seat. Her slim veiny hands pulled out an iPad similar to yours, except hers was much bigger, fitted with a lavender-purple case. You didn’t dare let your eyes wander further down, shifting your attention back to the front of the class, no longer interested in the content being shown on the screen, or your “coloring thing”

How have you never seen her before in this class?

You’re not the greatest when it comes to paying attention but surely you wouldn’t miss someone like Paige.

An airdrop notification appeared on your screen, the name PB starred at the top. Slicing your thoughts in half as you accepted it without thinking twice. The notes app opened as it read “do you happen to have a charger?"

Your eyebrows raised as you searched through your bag, praying you had remembered to grab it this morning. Eventually grabbing the cord that was accustomed by bright pink protectors to keep it from tangling, Turning back to her figure you placed the charger in her hands, softly grazing her fingertips unconsciously.

Paige's eyes wandered across your face shameless before dropping her gaze to the cord "Everything's gotta be pink huh?"

She had already observed your pink iPad case, pink phone case, pink water bottle, and of course, your pink bookbag. Usually your nails would be coated in a shade of pink but, in honor of the fall season, you decided to go with a deep shade of mocha brown with gold accents swirled on your ring fingers.

"Yea I love pink, you don't like pink?" you prodded in confusion, more so amused by her way of conversing so easily with a stranger.

"No I like pink but, Ion think I'll ever achieve your level of favoritism", I appreciate it though"

Her tone was hard to read, you couldn't tell if she was being smart or if it was just her. To make matters worse, you kinda liked it.

"You're welcome, y'know you could've just asked me instead of sending me a note" you voiced, now completely facing her.

"Nah there's no fun in that" shaking her head “I jus wanna make sure I keep your attention pretty girl��

Oh She had it, easily.

This was going to be a long semester

[ryker-writes]

Greetings, my friend –

You've been trying to get me into twst for a while, and I might be encouraged to play if you write something featuring the characters you think I'd like (give me emos & traumatised men). The scenario can be whatever you want pookie

Love the writing, keep it up ♡

p.s. if I like this I'll write you hcs for the npcs you like in our dnd campaign 🥰

Trips over myself with how fast I go to answer

Emo's and traumatized men...well, just about every housewarden is full of trauma. But emos/edgy men are more do-able! So, you get Malleus, Lilia, Leona, and Idia. You also get Jaxon as a bonus because you know him, he's emo, and traumatized! Please get the game, I'm begging you

Remember when I told all of you to say hi to my friend that's stalking my blog? Yeah, this is them

A very academic and studious s/o

Malleus:

Now, Malleus is a very smart guy himself, but he's never had to put as much effort in school as you are

He's seen many students put themselves deep into their studies (especially those failing), but you do it even when you're doing well in classes, almost like it's fun?

He's very perplexed by you, but he does understand and respect your ambition for your studies

Study dates! Study dates!

Well, it's more like you studying while he admires you and watches you with that fond loving smile

He doesn't need to study, he's one of the top mages for a reason, but he'll happily listen to you telling him all about what you're reading about and offer any insights he may have

Though he'll tell you all about gargoyles if you want!

Regardless if you're human, fae, beastman, merfolk, Malleus treats you a little like a fragile creature that forgets your own needs, so he's going to be reminding you of breaks and to drink water because he hates to see you not taking care of yourself

You will never have tp pay for your books or any school supplies every again because he's buying you brand new everything without even blinking

He admires your dedication, but part of him also wants your attention on him instead of the books so you might find him closer than usual on days when he wants your attention

It starts with sitting closer, and then becomes him trying to bring you snacks and water earlier than normal, to him trying to convince you to take longer breaks, and if you still don't give him as much attention, he's not against teleporting your schoolwork away for the evening

He looks like a sad puppy when you reject him attention for your studies

Malleus most happy just spending time around you, so hold his hand while you study or ask him what he thinks of the topics while in the peaceful quiet of one of your dorm rooms, and he'll be happy

Lilia:

Similarly to Malleus, he doesn't need to study that much

I mean technically he doesn't even need to be at Night Raven College and he's only there to support Malleus anyway, so studying isn't really his thing

but he'll happily help! And maybe distract you from time to time during it because he wants your attention

if you're studying history, he's got you covered, I mean, he's literally in the history books sooooo

he could actually tell you more about the history than the books will to be honest

his memory on all the things is like easy way to write a paper if you ever need, and he'll happily tell you everything in long stories

he'll bring you snacks and stuff, but it's probably best you don't eat it. If you do, well, you won't be able to study or do any work because you'll be sick in bed

while you're studying, he might poke you or ask you questions to try and get your attention on him, but if you're persistent and keep studying, he might just crawl his way into your space

he'll hang down from the ceiling above you and try to surprise you, crawl on your back, or he'd even worm his way into your lap

there's no way out of holding him. He's too persistent. Just give in

you might hear him mumbling about your dedication things like, "Ah, to be young again" or "the youth of today are fascinating in their determination"

he never elaborates on that either or says anything else when you question him

now, if you're studying too hard and pushing yourself beyond your limits, he's stopping you by literally carrying you away

despite his small size, he's absolutely going to succeed, don't even try to fight because it's futile (he's literally a war general, you're not winning)

he'll drag you far away from your books as he's telling you all about how you need to stay healthy and not push yourself too hard or else you won't be able to do your best work or be energized when you need it most

don't you worry though, he's good at helping you pace yourself (Forcibly moving you away when he's deemed you've done enough studying after a few hours) and you'll never be able to overwork yourself on his watch

Leona:

First of all, how dare you

anytime you're studying, he glares at those books like they've personally burned his home or something

don't get me wrong, he's not against you wanting to do well in school, but he just hates that you spend so much time with the books

you should be spending time with him >:|

he's going to be next to you the entire time too like if you're sitting on the ground or a bed, he's curled around you or laying across your lap

if you're sitting at a desk, he'll be a bit grumpier and try and convince you to move somewhere more comfortable

if you're too stubborn (his words), he'd either sit on the ground next to you and rest his head in your lap, or he'd pick you up and sit in the chair himself and place you in his lap before resting his head on your back and wrapping his arms around you

he's 100% napping while you study so you have the background noise of him snoring

Leona would like to listen to you talk about what you're studying, purely because he likes to fall asleep to your voice

He could help, but he's not a big fan of helping because he thinks you can figure it out on your own, and also he doesn't want to use his mind to figure it out

he knows the answers, but he doesn't do any of the schoolwork himself because it's too much work and effort

its why he's been held back before, like it's too much work for him, but if you can somehow convince him to let you help, he might be willing to give it a shot (if you promise to give him more cuddles or affection in return)

yeah, there's no overworking yourself or pushing yourself too hard while he's literally right there, like there's no way he's letting that happen

he will drag you to the bed and lay on top of you, and then make Ruggie hide your books somewhere until he deems it's okay for you to get back to studying

try as you might, Ruggie isn't telling you where he put them, like Leona has bribed him good for this

please don't test Leona with how far he'll go, he's not against using his unique magic to turn your work to sand

if you ever ignore him for schoolwork, he can get SO annoying and demanding for attention

you know how cats sometimes push their way into your lap and push the things you have away? He does that when he really wants your attention

good luck

Jaxon:

okay, we all know Jaxon loves his goody-two-shoes people, but this also goes for super smart people, like his twst ship is literally a guy that is obsessed with rules and success like come on now

it's basically his type

that being said, he doesn't get it at all! Jaxon himself has never done well in school (though that's partially for other reasons), nor does he have any desire to push himself nearly as hard as you do in order to do well in classes

the only class he can maybe help you with is music or practical magic, but even then he's sometimes struggling

on the bright side, he's not against bribing asking Ruggie to get anything you need to study, and has even asked him to get snacks or drinks sometimes for you

please don't ask him to read anything for you, he still struggles sometimes with his dyslexia and is trying so hard to act like it's not affecting him (especially in front of you)

Jaxon doesn't invade your space while studying like some people, but he does linger in the general area

if you ask he'd place you in his lap while you study or sit with his back against yours or against the side of your chair

usually he's on his phone or making small adjustments to one of his guitars (but if the noise bothers you he'd stop)

if you're lucky and in the privacy of one of your dorm rooms, he'd maybe get some sleep

tired and uncaring as he may seem half the time, he does pay close attention to you while you're studying

his care and attention while you're studying is done silently, with a water bottle or a snack silently being placed next to you

or if you're working too hard or studying for too long, he'll yank the books and papers once you're at an okay stopping point, and take them away

now, I don't know how tall you are, but he's pretty tall and one of the tallest among students, and he's not above holding your work out of your reach

most likely though he'd just hide it or keep it on him and make sure you can't take it from him, and if he's desperate, he'd hide it in his dad's office

he'd rather spend time with Crowley than let you overwork yourself

chances of getting him to study with you are slim, but I wish you luck

Idia:

Studying? You mean you actually study?

okay, Idia is a gamer and chronically online and speaks in internet terms, all his "studying" is done virtually with some game or video playing in the background

it's a great sentiment, wanting to do well in school, but he has daily quests to do in his games too

Idia isn't a guy that gets/is capable of handling a lot of physical affection, so he may break down if you want to hold his hand or have him connected to you while studying

his room is like a distraction goldmine, but unfortunately getting him to leave his room and study somewhere else is an extremely difficult task, so I hope you're good at focusing

you can have study dates, but it might include the background noise of one of his games running and the buzzing of technology

he (lovingly) refers to the great times you spend studying as "the grind" or the "XP farming so you can level up"

though he can help when you need it! He's an introvert and attends classes virtually, but he knows his stuff and can help you with most of the more practical subjects, especially math and science

if you really needed help though, he's already developed a virtual program to help him study with reminders for food and drinks and tools to help you review!

speaking of reminders for food and drinks, yeah, if he's not using that program then there's no way he's going to remember to even feed himself, much less you too

Ortho is probably gonna have to come in and remind both of you to take care of yourselves every hour or so, but don't worry, he's used to it with Idia

this also applies with reminders of when to stop/sleep, because Idia stays up late anyway

but! if he's absorbed in his game, he might stop every little bit and check in and be like "Shouldn't you be asleep?? Do you know what time it is?? Your energy bar has to be running low"

while he admires your dedication (though he doesn't fully understand it), he struggles to enforce his care unlike the others

he can't force you to do anything, but he's sure gonna try and pester you for a while if you don't take care of yourself

Idia sucks at taking care of himself, but he's not gonna let that happen to you

if worst comes to worst, he'll lock your work away in a safe with the highest technological security until you rest

[antonsbf]

Unspoken

chapter 2- once more to see you

⤷ summary: a slow-burn, emotional story about childhood friends torn apart by time and dreams—only to meet again years later as rising stars in the spotlight. Between secrets, past feelings, and second chances, they learn that some things never really fade.

⤷ pairing: idol/actor!ni-ki x actor!male reader

⤷ wc: 1.5k

⤷ warnings: heavy angst! slow-burn! secret feelings! yearning male reader! childhood friends!

⤷ read chapter 1 read chapter 3

"it's not like i'm going to disappear. we'll still talk. i'll be back soon enough, i promise."

that had been the promise he swore he wouldn’t break. the one i clung to long after he turned and walked away that night by the creek. even when other words were spoken, and even after time pulled us apart, it was that single vow that stayed with me—the last real thing i had to hold onto.

he had been the person i grew up with. the one who had always been there, even when nothing needed to be said. the one who made me laugh through the rough patches and somehow always knew exactly how to push my buttons when i needed it. the one who, without even trying, felt like home.

and maybe that’s why it hurt so much—because even when everything else faded, that promise never did. not for me.

✦ ✦ ✦

five years later. five years and ni-ki had become a memory i tried not to touch too often.

life had a way of moving on even when you didn’t want it to. and somehow, without meaning to, i learned how to live with the space he left behind.

at first, it was little things, his contact slipping lower and lower down my favorites list. the empty spot beside me at the creek the summer after he left. the inside jokes that stopped making sense because no one else was there to laugh with me. the days where i'd reach for my phone without thinking, fingers hovering over his name, only to pull back and pretend it didn’t sting.

then bigger things, the day i realized i didn’t know what song he was obsessed with anymore. or whether he still cracked his knuckles when he was nervous. or if he even thought about me at all. whether he still missed the way our hometown smelled after it rained, or if he remembered the way we used to sneak out just to sit under the stars and talk about stupid dreams.

he had been chasing a dream, and i-i had been left behind trying to figure out what mine even was.

sometimes, when it got really quiet, i could almost imagine he was still here. that if i closed my eyes long enough, i could hear his laugh from down the hall. feel the familiar thud of his sneakers against the wooden porch steps. catch the scent of fresh grass and summer sweat and the cheap cologne he used to over-spray before every "big moment" in his life.

sometimes, i hated how easily i could still conjure him.

✦ ✦ ✦

acting wasn’t something i’d planned. it wasn’t like i woke up one morning and thought, hey, i want to be a bl actor.

it just... happened.

a friend dragged me to an open audition when i was nineteen. "you've got the face for it," they'd joked, shoving a script into my hand. i didn’t even take it seriously at first—just read the lines, half-laughing, not thinking anyone was actually paying attention.

but someone had been. someone saw something i didn’t even know i was showing.

the first role was small. background. hardly more than a name in the credits. but it led to another. and another. and suddenly, somehow, i was y/n, rising bl actor with a growing fanbase and a face that people started recognizing on the street.

funny how that worked. when i was a kid, i used to think the only way to matter was to stay next to ni-ki. now people screamed my name at fan meetings, shoved letters into my hands, told me i saved them without even knowing it.

i smiled through it all. smiled for the cameras. smiled for the fans. smiled for the interviews where they asked me about "first loves" and "inspirations" and i lied through my teeth because the real answer was someone who hadn’t even seen me become this person.

and yet... none of it ever really filled the space he left.

there were nights i would come home after a long shoot, collapse onto my bed, and stare at the ceiling, feeling like a stranger in my own life. nights where the applause felt deafening but the silence afterward was worse. nights where i wondered if he would even recognize me now.

✦ ✦ ✦

i wasn’t bitter. at least, that’s what i told myself. bitterness was too ugly of a word. i was just... realistic now. ni-ki was never coming back to the life we had. not really. fame changes people. time changes people. and maybe the worst part was that he wasn’t the villain. he hadn’t broken his promise on purpose. life just... pulled him too far away for promises to keep.

and me? i survived.

i built a life out of auditions and scripts and interviews where i smiled too brightly and told polished stories about my dreams. i learned how to cry on cue, how to fake laughter, how to pretend a love story was real when the cameras were rolling and forget it the moment they cut.

i was good at pretending. maybe too good.

✦ ✦ ✦

when my manager handed me the new script, i didn’t think much of it. another bl drama. another love story. another faceless co-star to pretend to fall for.

i flipped through the pages on the ride home, half-distracted, until i hit the name. the stage name at the top of the character list. a name i hadn’t heard in too long. but one that felt like it had been carved into my ribs.

nishimura riki. his real name. not a character. not a role. him.

at first, i thought i was hallucinating. or maybe someone else just had the same name. but a quick search confirmed it: ni-ki. idol turned rising actor. making his debut in the very same project i’d just signed onto. of all the projects. of all the people. of all the times.

life had a funny way of laughing at you when you thought you’d finally moved on.

✦ ✦ ✦

the first day of rehearsals felt like waiting for a storm you knew was coming.

i spent the morning getting my makeup done, my hair styled, my outfit prepped. i laughed when the staff joked. smiled for behind-the-scenes cameras. played the part of "friendly, easygoing y/n" so well i almost believed myself.

but under it all, my hands wouldn’t stop twitching. my heart wouldn’t stop pounding. i told myself it didn’t matter. that it had been five years. that he probably barely remembered me.

but when the director finally called for rehearsal and i turned around there he was.

ni-ki.

older now. taller. still awkward in the way he shifted his weight from foot to foot. still ni-ki in the way his mouth tilted into a half-smile the second he saw me.

he looked like someone i used to know and someone i hadn’t met yet, all at once. familiar and foreign and terrifying. and all at once, it hit me like a punch to the chest: all the years i spent trying to forget, trying to move on, trying to survive, none of it worked. because the second our eyes met, it was like no time had passed at all.

✦ ✦ ✦

"hey," he said, voice deeper than i remembered.

i swallowed hard. my mouth opened, but no words came out.

there were a thousand things i could have said. "you left." "you broke your promise." "i missed you." "i hate you for not missing me back."

but all that came out was, "...hey."

the director called us over before either of us could say anything else. we fumbled through the first rehearsal, stiff and awkward. the kind of awkward that had nothing to do with inexperience and everything to do with all the things between us left unspoken.

when the scene ended, ni-ki glanced at me. his mouth opened like he was going to say something.

but the staff swarmed us with notes and touch-ups and schedules before he could.

and maybe that was a mercy.

because i wasn’t sure if i was ready to hear whatever he had to say. or worse, what he wouldn’t.

✦ ✦ ✦

later, as i sat alone in the makeup room, wiping off the fake sweat from a fake emotional scene, i caught sight of myself in the mirror. i looked the same as always. polished. put together. exactly the way the world expected me to be.

but inside, i was thirteen again, knees scraped from climbing trees, laughing until i couldn't breathe while ni-ki teased me about losing another race. i was seventeen again, heart pounding too fast when we held hands under the summer stars. i was eighteen again, standing by the airport window, watching the boy i loved walk away, too scared to ask him to stay.

time was supposed to heal things. wasn’t it?

so why did it feel like the wound had just been ripped wide open all over again?

i leaned forward, resting my forehead against the mirror, letting the cool glass soak up the warmth of my skin. i told myself to breathe. to be patient. to remember that this was just another scene. just another project. just another co-star.

but no matter how much i lied to myself, the truth was simple.

he was here.

he was real again.

✦ ✦ ✦

taglist: @kaiyunsim @deliousberry @arequiem4u  @yourmaple17 <33 (leave a comment to be added for future chapters)

[atleastpleasetelephone]

Kinktober Day 30 - Hair Pulling

Pairing: BDE x reader

Word count: 1.3K

TWs: Reader calls Elvis daddy, praise kink, pussy inspection, oral (f receiving), possessive kink, face fucking, hair pulling, begging.

Kinktober masterlist

You’re curled up in Elvis’ lap as he reads from one of his spiritual books, his glasses perched on the end of his nose. You feel the vibrations of his low, rumbling voice as your head rests on his chest. The powdery smell of his cologne surrounding you, warmth radiating off his body. You’re so content right now. There’s nothing you love more than being in his arms listening to him talk. Whether he’s reading out loud, joining in with one of his favourite movies, or even just talking to the guys late at night. You don’t care what he’s saying, you just like the sound and the feeling. One of his big, strong hands rubs your back gently whilst the other one grips the book. He looks down at you occasionally to make sure you haven’t fallen asleep, but you’re always looking back with rapt attention. He moves on to the next page. 

“For I am your real teacher, the only real one you will ever know, and the only master,” he declares, maybe a little too melodramatically. 

You can’t help giggling at the word ‘master’. You’re not trying to be childish, after all you are almost thirty. It’s just you’ve been sitting in his lap for a while and as much as you like hearing his voice you do put on that fascinated facial expression sometimes. 

Elvis arches an eyebrow and looks at you over his glasses. “What’re you giggling at, little girl?” Pursing his lips a little. 

The serious delivery of the question sets you off laughing properly, and then you’re shaking with mirth. “M-m-m-master,” you finally manage, before replacing your head on his chest and laughing so much that tears come to your eyes. 

Elvis shakes his head like a long-suffering teacher and flips the book closed. He’s never sure how much you’re actually interested in the spiritual texts. You always look like you’re paying attention, but you avoid nearly every conversation he tries to have with you about them. He’s a little tired of reading tonight himself, though, and you look so pretty there in his arms, giggling away to yourself. He gets an idea. 

“I am your real teacher though,” he says, raising one eyebrow again. 

“Oh really?” You’re struggling to keep a straight face. 

“Mmmm. Yes. And this teacher needs to inspect you. Make sure you’re paying attention to everything I’ve been telling you.”

You feel your stomach turn and twist and that familiar tingling starts between your legs. 

“Yes…m-master…” you burst out laughing again. “I can’t call you that,” you tell him, holding on to one of his arms, when you finally manage to get your breath back. 

He picks you up easily, putting you down next to him on the bed. “Sir will do fine.” 

You’re laughing so much in response to that that you start kicking your feet. He lets out a low chuckle. “Okay, okay. Just call me Daddy. I know you like that.” 

You stop giggling when he says that and fixes you with the most sensual look you’ve seen in a long time. Letting your feet slide back down to where they belong, you look back at him. 

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Good girl.”

He slips your pyjama bottoms off and gently pushes your legs up and apart, so your feet are off the bed. 

“Time for your pussy inspection,” he murmurs, his voice low and sultry. 

He looks up at you through the reading glasses and you nearly cum there and then. 

Breathing hard, you watch as he looks between your legs with an almost forensic gaze. He’s staring so intently it’s making you blush. He very gently brushes a fingertip against you, noting that it comes back wet. 

“Very good,” he mutters.

You gulp. 

Running his finger around the edge of your pussy lips, he looks up at you again, licking his own lips deliberately. You let out an ill-disguised moan. He smirks. 

“Such a pretty pussy, baby.”

Watching your chest heave and listening to your unsteady breathing he smirks a little more, then gently blows on your clit, making you squeak. Then he drags his finger over it, feeling as it hardens. You wiggle, unable to stop yourself. He shakes his head. 

“Daddy’s not finished yet, baby. You need to stay nice and still for me. Then, if I think you’ve taken good enough care of my pussy, I might let you get what you want.”

You struggle not to groan when he calls it ‘my pussy’. You love it when he gets possessive. 

“Yes, Daddy.”

He smiles. “Alright. Let’s carry on, shall we?” 

You nod enthusiastically and he dips a finger into your pooling arousal again, swirling it around your clit until you cry out. Then he stops, abruptly. 

“That all seems to be in good working order.”

You’d laugh at how ridiculous he sounds if you weren’t so turned on. He leans in closer and uses his thumbs to press your lips apart, looking into your pretty little hole. The anticipation is killing you. His nose is so close to your clit it takes everything in you not to buck your hips at that exact moment. You let out a shaky breath as he pulls back. 

“Very good,” he mutters again. “One last thing.”

Without warning, he plunges one of his long, slender fingers right up inside you. 

“Oh, God.”

His mouth curls into a lazy smile. “Mmmm. Excellent. This tight little pussy’s made just for me, isn’t it baby?”

You nod eagerly and he pushes a second finger inside, curling them both so they hit that place inside you. You squeak again. 

He grins. “That was the last thing I needed to check, baby. You’ve been taking such good care of my pussy. You’re such a good girl.”

You moan softly, his fingers are still inside you and you desperately want them to move. 

“Ah, hold on.” He says, waving a finger from his other hand in the air. “One last thing.” His head ducks down and as he presses his tongue to your clit he says, “just need to check how you taste,” his words vibrating against you. 

The noise you let out is somewhere between a moan and a squeal as his mouth latches on to your clit and his fingers start to move inside you. Your back arches and you buck your hips into his face. He lets you roll your hips once or twice and then moves his head back quickly.

Crying out, you thrash your legs about desperately. 

“You taste real good, baby,” he declares, before diving back down into you again with renewed fervour. 

“Fuck!” 

You cry out, fingers knitting into his hair, holding his head where you want it as you start to grind against his face. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Pulling his hair now, as your orgasm builds inside you. You’re getting so close but you’re not quite there. It’s like he knows how to keep you right on the edge, you’re tottering but you don’t fall, the pleasure feeling like it’s filling your body, making you crazy. 

“Please… oh God.” 

You’re begging now, begging to cum, your fingers tugging on his hair desperately. He grins against you, his tongue working overtime as he finger-fucks you, wanting to give you what you want. Loving you losing yourself like this. Bucking and writhing, you look down for a moment and the sight of him, buried in your pussy, still wearing his reading glasses, completely overwhelms you. It’s that image that pushes you over into oblivion, moaning and calling out his name over and over like a prayer. 

You finally let go of his head and sprawl back on the bed, huffing and sighing as he delivers a few more kitten licks to your swollen clit and then slowly sits up. He waits until you properly come to, before looking down at you with that teacherish expression again. 

“Baby, I think you’ve ruined my glasses.”

***

Taglist:

Please let me know if you want to be added or removed

@vintagepresley @arg-xoxo @from-memphis-with-love @msamarican @blursedblegh @returntopresley @eapep @everythingelvispresley @i-r-i-n-a-a @sissylittlefeather @arrolyn1114 @jhoneybees @cattcb @polksaladava @lookingforrainbows @jkdaddy01 @ccab @epthedream69 @lustnhim @elvisslut @pomtherine @that-hotdog @ladelinee @angschrof @fairybloodsucker @deltafalax @makethemorning @elviswhore69 @ilovequeen978 @wildhorseinkansas

[ghostgirl-22]

so i actually need pt 2 to the older patrick younger art fic right NOW.. jk but it was amazing

Y’all. Y’ALL. I heard you. And though I don’t really love writing sequels… I’ll do anything for you honestly <33

Original.

It’s a mess and way too long which is prbly to be expected by now. Idk. Sometimes you just have to get out of your head and post 😭

18+ NSFW

CW: AGE GAP 10-11 years, power dynamics, teacher/student vibes, first time vibes, AND mild daddy!kink whoopsie! How did that happen? Obviously if any of these things make you uncomfortable don’t read. I don’t take it personally. I’ll explain myself a bit. Art in my imagination here didn’t get constantly shown up by Patrick and because Patrick wasn’t there Art got the attention Patrick got for his skills so he’s a little more arrogant (still a little insecure because that’s his core) and still messy. Patrick had the Tashi injury which makes him a little less arrogant (brought down a notch but still overcompensates and actively self sabotages because that’s his core) and still messy.

——

Art is still keyed up the next morning. His roommate, Devon, is bragging about hooking up with a senior. Art is trying to pay attention but all he can think about is how he got on his knees and gave messy head to Patrick, Coach Zweig, his 31 year old ridiculously hot tennis coach. And how Patrick practically promised to fuck him if he was a really good boy all week. He’s sitting on his hands trying not to go crazy.

“What did you get up to?” Devon finally asks him. Picking up his towel and getting ready to shower.

“Can you keep a secret?” Art asks.

That makes him sit back down. “Yeah of course.”

Art tells him about Patrick, most of it anyway, watching his eyes widen. He’s not on the tennis team but he’s heard enough about Coach Zweig from Art that he can’t help giggling.

“You’re fucking joking.”

“I’m not, I swear.”

“Holy shit. And I thought I was doing something with that senior. Wow. This would only happen to you.”

Art isn’t sure what he means by that but he’s suddenly asking a million questions. Art tells him some things, embellishing and withholding various details. The closest Art ever came to actually fucking a boy was when he used to sneak in Devon’s bed whenever he got horny at night. They were so close to fucking when Art made him stop. so he made Art promise to stop leading him on. And now they’re proper roommates with boundaries and everything. Though sometimes Art thinks if he asked for it Devon would still fuck him.

Devon thinks it’s hot, the whole Patrick thing. Thinks Patrick wants to make Art his kept boy. “Well I mean… he’s old and everyone says he’s loaded, right? He can give you whatever you want.” Devon says.

“Please, he wouldn’t even give me his phone number.” Art says dismissively. “And I don’t need to be kept I just need his dick.”

Devon chews his bottom lip looking Art over and Art wonders if he crossed a boundary. He’s so fucking messy with them.

“Lucky him,” Devon says dryly, rolling his eyes. “But maybe you should milk it. You’re young and beautiful and blonde and he’s your coach so it’s like.. it’s kind of illicit. He could get you a nice place off campus… be your sugar daddy. Girls do it all the time.”

“I think he’d kill me if I ever called him that,” Art laughs, making up his mind to definitely call him that at some point.

Devon agrees to come out with him next weekend but he still has to wait the whole fucking week. It feels like torture.

They have practice everyday and a game on Friday. Which means Patrick’s in those short shorts running them around the court every single day. Art can’t keep his mind off of him. Just wants his attention so bad, everyday he’s doing everything he can just to get Patrick to look in his direction. But Patrick’s got an epic poker face. He’s so fucking cool and calm and collected. So good at acting like nothing happened. Like everything is the same and they never did what they did.

There's one difference. Instead of having the assistant coach do it… he’ll bring Art to the side and personally correct him when he thinks Art could play better. Show him how to position himself, swing the racket, follow through. Big hands, rough hands, gripping Art's waist to turn his body, his wrist to direct his swing. The same hands that effortlessly lifted off his lap the other night.

“Can’t be all talk and no action sweetheart,” Patrick says lightly, as he’s standing behind him. God. It’s actually stupid how sexy he is. Art’s never thought this much about being penetrated, ever. He makes sure to arch his back just a little more than he usually does. Patrick presses a hand to the small of his back.

Art fingers the grip of his racket. “I don’t think I was all talk.”

Patrick chuckles, low and soft. “Stop it. Focus. Bring that energy here,” he says, “all that confidence right here and no one will rattle you.”

“Like this?” Art demonstrates. He makes a mess of it just so that Patrick will touch him again. It takes a minute before Patrick catches on.

“I think you get it,” he says dryly.

“Please show me one more time. I just wanna be a good boy for you,” Art says lightly. It makes Patrick swallow… his gaze falls helplessly over Arts body and then he looks away smirking.

“Are you having fun?” He says, leaning in close, eyes all crinkly with amusement.

Art wants to kiss him. “Mmhm,” he hums, pressing his lips together. “Though sometimes it still feels like my mouth is so full of you I could just… choke.”

“Yeah… right…” Patrick rolls his eyes, still smiling and then he takes a deep breath and drags his hand over his beard. “Hm…What’s today?”

“Wednesday,” Art says.

“And my plans for the weekend are still up in the air,” he says, patting Art on the shoulder as he takes his racket and turns to face the team. “Five laps around the court, everybody, let’s gooo!” He says loudly, blowing his whistle. “Fucking hustle!”

There’s an audible groan and the sounds of rackets dropping as everyone stops what they’re doing and starts running. “Go join them. And if you keep it up it’ll be sprints next.” Patrick says softly.

Art grins, as much as he hates running and he’s sure his teammates will assume he’s responsible for this bit of conditioning, it was still totally fucking worth it.

He probably should’ve focused more but he wins on Friday in spite of himself. Tennis is such a mental game and while he’s generally confident and loves the attention that comes with playing as number one on the center stage, he’s not consistent. That’s what Patrick always says at least. There are opponents that leave him feeling less sure of himself and then he tends to get in his head imagining he’s somehow inadequate or deficient.

One of those players is a French recruit from UCLA, Jensen Bordeaux. Art starts out strong. Crushes it in the first set. But when Bordeaux fights back in the second and he falls apart a little. It’s a bad habit. He wins another game but it’s not enough. He ends up nearly going into a third set.

“Remember what I said,” Patrick takes him to the side between points. “Stop acting like you can’t finish him off. You can have whatever you want right?”

Art gazes at him and bites his lip. “Mmhm.” He nods.

“Good. You know what you want. Just take it. Okay?”

“Yeah okay,” Art says breathlessly.

“Good boy,” Patrick says, rubbing his shoulders, a little smirk on his lips. “Try not to… you know… choke.”

Art feels heated from the inside out. He goes back on the court except he’s not thinking about the game. Instead he’s so anxious for the promise of tomorrow night that all this begins to feel like a mere obstacle to that. He makes easy work of it, winning the tiebreaker and shifting it so that Stanford goes home the winning team.

Everyone on the team goes out to a frat party to celebrate and Art is so drunk and horny by the end of the night. He stumbles into his dorm at 1 am, falls drunkenly into bed and starts touching himself. Fingers in his mouth imagining it’s the heavy weight and thickness of Patrick’s cock. Imagining Patrick’s large hands in his hair, imagining the soft, easily amused tone of his voice as he murmurs. “Good boy.” Makes him come so fast and hard he passes out.

He’s a mess in the morning. In more ways than one. They don’t have practice after game days so he sleeps off his hangover and the day flies by. He takes a long hot shower before he gets ready to go. Anxiety and anticipation competing for space in his brain and body. Devon loans him clothes that are so much tighter than anything he wears regularly. “Trust me, he’s gonna be all over you in this.”

They get there at the same time as last week but Patrick doesn’t come right away. Art’s waiting and waiting and waiting for Patrick to show up at the gay bar. Devon is at a table, a new boy on his lap and they’re making out. Art is half tipsy, swinging his legs on a barstool while this guy from the baseball team stands between his thighs asking him everything about tennis like it’s the most interesting thing in the world. And that’s when Patrick finally arrives. He spots Art across the bar and smirks. Art gets up right away, making excuses to the now frowning baseball player about seeing him around on campus.

“That was fast,” Patrick smirks, as Art sidles up next to him.

“Well I didn’t know you’d take so long to come,” Art says, moving closer. “Is that an old person thing?”

”Mm, you…” Patrick chuckles, tapping his credit card on the bar. He’s got such a great smile. God. Art is so far gone. This is tragic.

“Can you buy me a drink?” Art asks in his ear.

“No fucking way,” Patrick says, amused.

“Seriously?”

“Seriously, how many drinks have you had tonight?”

Art holds up 3 fingers.

“Is that how many fingers I’m gonna have to put in before I can… nevermind…” Patrick says.

Art grins. Warmth spreading throughout his body. “It’s really big,” Art whispers. “Maybe you need four?”

“God…” Patrick laughs, incredulous. “I shouldn’t even fucking be here.” He sighs, as the bartender approaches them. He orders a whiskey and because it’s two for one he gives in and lets Art pick something. He orders rum and coke.

Art feels giddy as he sips on it.

“So used to getting whatever you ask for,” Patrick says, looking him over, teasing a finger into one of his belt loops. “Twenty years old. God. You make me fucking crazy.” He whispers in Art’s ear.

Art can’t help grinning.

Patrick makes him wait while he talks to people his own age. Acting all wholesome. “Oh he’s just one of my players, I’m gonna make sure he gets home safe.” He even gives Art the key so he can wait in his jeep. Art’s hard as soon as he gets in it. Listens to music too loud and ponders touching himself.

He’s kissing on Patrick right away when he finally gets in the car. He’s been so eager all week. “Mm…” Patrick pulls back, tangling his fingers into Art’s hair. “Fuck… gimme a minute to get you home, okay?” he says and he turns on the engine and puts the music back at a sensible volume.

“Is it far?” Art asks.

Patrick huffs a laugh. “Take a deep breath.”

It doesn't help. Everything smells like him. Art puts a hand on Patrick’s thigh, his skin is so heated. He remembers how warm Patrick’s cock felt in his mouth and then his mouth starts watering.

“Is Tashi there?” Art sighs.

“What do you fucking think?”

Art leans close, just breathing him in. Resting his head on Patrick’s shoulder. ”She’s so pretty.” He hums.

“I know.”

“You’re so pretty.”

Patrick chuckles, a low vibration Art can feel from his throat that makes him shiver. “And you're so tipsy. And so fucking young.”

“But you like it.” Art says softly, rubbing Patrick’s thigh. Skin so warm he’s like a furnace. Already hard enough that Art can feel it.

”And I know I’m gonna regret it.”

Their house is actually huge. On the nicer side of Palo Alto. It’s one of the ones with a pool and a tennis court and a crazy nice view of the city. Art doesn’t know any of this until later because as soon as they're inside he’s trying to get his tongue in Patrick’s mouth. Patrick walks him back towards the living room where there’s a huge leather sofa. Art climbs onto his lap as soon as he sits down. Patrick is touching him everywhere, fingers tangled into his hair. Hands under his shirt, rubbing him, teasing him. Art is just trying his best to feel him, lick into his mouth and taste him. All while grinding against his prominent bulge. Grabbing at his zipper trying to get it out.

“Can you fuck me?” Art begs against his lips.

“Fuck,” Patrick breathes against his lips, he’s gripping Art’s waist tightly. Slowing him down. He sighs like he’s trying to pull himself together. “Mmkay. God. Stand up a minute. I need to get a condom and some lube.”

Art gets up reluctantly, nervous energy making him bounce on his toes like he’s waiting on a serve. Patrick smirks, “Relax… I’ll be back in a minute.” He pats Art’s shoulder as he gets up and disappears into another room. It doesn’t matter whether Art sits or stands, he’s anxious. He looks around the lavish room, fancy furniture, paintings that look expensive. Massive kitchen like the kind you see in movies. Patrick comes back and he’s all loose, t-shirt wrinkled, hair messy, eyes soft. He’s probably done this a million times. He’s got a condom between his fingers which he hands to Art.

“You wanna put it on me?”

”Mmhm,” Art says. He’s also carrying a little bottle of lube. Art’s trying to rip the packet open but his hands are all shaky. Especially when Patrick lifts his t-shirt off, he’s so solid, strong biceps, chest hair that gets darker condensed down the line of his stomach to where his jeans are unbuttoned. Art wants to lick it.

“Okay,” Patrick settles on the sofa, kicking off his shoes. “Give me that, you pretty little virgin and take those clothes off.”

Art hands him the condom a little embarrassed, and starts undoing his jeans. Kicks off his shoes and peels off his shirt so he’s only in boxers. Patrick bites open the packet and eases his jeans down and his cock out. Art takes shallow breaths watching him roll the condom on. It’s so big the condom is a magnum size and it fits snug. He’s heard horror stories about first times, even read a few on Reddit and he’s starting to feel a little panicked.

”Look at you.” Patrick says softly, eyes dragging slowly down Arts body. He pulls Art onto his thighs, god he has thick muscular thighs, Art can’t help wiggling. Patrick’s got him close so their cocks line up, and his palm is covered in lube and he’s gripping them both at the same time. It feels so fucking good Art thinks he might come too fast. He’s moaning, eyes squeezed shut when Patrick stops. Art opens his eyes to see Patrick wetting his fingers with more lube and slips a thick calloused finger back along Art’s entrance. Art feels himself seizing up as Patrick presses slowly inside.

“Take deep breaths,” Patrick whispers. Advice Art tries to follow but it just feels so crazy. He eases another finger in and Art tenses even more.

“Mm if your so fucking tight, I can’t fuck you sweetheart.”

“Does it hurt?” Art whispers.

Patrick takes a breath. “Yeah a little at first… but I think I can make it feel a little…uh better…”

Art shivers, his body suddenly overrun by pleasure as Patrick’s teasing his fingertips deep inside him. Art can hear himself moaning voice suddenly pitched so high he barely recognizes it. “Please… please… “he begs. “Please fuck me… fuck me… fuck me daddy.” Art gasps, losing himself as he’s riding the sensation.

“Fuck… what did you call me?” Patrick whispers.

Art bites his lip, his body heating up immediately with embarrassment. “Mm sorry. I didn’t… I didn’t mean to… I meant like sugar…” He says softly as Patrick slowly pulls his fingertips out. Art is breathless. Patrick doesn’t look mad but his expression has gone heady.

“Fuck… I can be daddy if you need it,” Patrick breathes. “Come…sit on daddy’s dick. Holy shit. What are you doing to me?”

Art swallows, his stomach doing flip flops for the way Patrick says it. He sits up on his knees, he can feel Patrick lining up. It actually feels like a lot. Like way too much. Impossible to take. He’s got his eyes squeezed shut and watering feeling the insane stretch as he sinks so fucking slowly down on it.

“Oh god,” he keeps whispering over and over like a prayer.

“Fuck,” Patrick breathes. His hands gripping Art’s waist.

He’s anxious moving slowly, gripping tightly, it’s too much, he’s too full. And Patrick starts to adjust him while gently rubbing his tummy. “Relax… lets try this angle,” Patrick whispers. Fucking into him in a way that he starts hitting that pleasure spot deep inside with even more intensity. “Good… good boy…that’s right…breathe… breathe… keep breathing… fuck…” Patrick coaches. And then slowly as it happens Art is moaning, bouncing on his lap just to feel it hit over and over and over and over again.

“I wanna… mmm I like it so much. wanna do it all the time,” Art moans nonsensically as he’s riding, not sure what’s happening, just that he’s seeing stars. “I wanna fuck you all the time. All the fucking time. wanna fuck you at school… during practice. In your bed. Wanna be your boy toy. Play with your big dick. Fuck me, oh fuck… fuck me daddy, daddy please. It feels so fucking good.”

“Jesus,” Patrick groans he barely grips Art’s cock and he’s coming loudly, spurts of it covering Patrick’s chest and his own. He can feel Patrick still pressing up into him, it suddenly feels like way too much. Every movement making him shake with how sensitive it feels and then Patrick stills, swearing over and over, gripping Art’s body tight and burying himself deep. Low gravelly sounds against Art’s ear.

”Fuck,” Patrick gasps, breathlessly. “Oh… god. You’re so… fuck I’m so screwed.”

“Mm,” Art collapses against his chest, running his fingers down Patricks soft chest hair all painted with his jizz. His knees are all sweaty and sticking to the leather but he doesn’t really care. He just wants to be close. Patrick is gently rubbing his lower back and it feels amazing. Art can feel him softening and slowly slipping out of him, he thinks he might fall asleep like this.

“You okay?” Patrick asks.

”Mmhm,” Art says.

“You sure?”

”Yeah. Can we do it again?”

“God,” Patrick laughs. “I need at least five minutes and I need you to get up cause I gotta piss.”

“No,” Art whines, unhappy about anything that means he won’t be warmed by Patrick's body heat even for a second. He wraps his arms around Patrick’s shoulders.

Patrick chuckles. “I can’t go anywhere?”

“No,” Art says. “You’re my pillow.”

“Guess I fucked your virgin ass good,” Patrick says.

“For an old guy,” Art says softly, smiling against Patrick’s throat.

“For your daddy, you little freak…” Patrick says gently, squeezing his ass. “Come on, get up or we’re gonna have a bigger mess to clean up.”

Art groans and unwraps his arms. “Can I come?”

“To piss?” Patrick raises his eyebrows.

“Yeah,” Art nods.

Patrick smirks and rolls his eyes before gently curling his fingers into Arts hair. “Yeah sure, come on.”

Art kisses him and he sighs into Arts mouth. “I need a fucking cigarette too.”

“Can I stay over?” Art asks against his lips.

“Mm…” he ponders and sighs. “Fuck it I don’t know why I bother pretending to set boundaries with you…” he says, helping Art to his shaky feet. “Tashi will be home tomorrow afternoon. So you know… better not sleep too late.”

Art grins at him. “Does she know about me?”

“Does she know that after I finally got a good job as a tennis coach at my old school that I’m this close to losing it because I can’t help fucking my barely legal 20 year old star player? No actually. She doesn’t know.” He says dryly.

Art laughs. “I wouldn’t tell. But I mean imagine if I slept with you both. I’d learn so much about tennis.“

Patrick snorts, “This kinda talk is gonna make me take you home tonight actually…”

“Mm too late. You let me call you daddy,” Art grins. “You’re never getting rid of me.”

[mullermilkshake]

Which choice is wrong?

It's always raining. Though today is different.

Android!Suguru x Sex worker!Reader Inspired by Detroit become human (AWESOME GAME BTW) Fem!reader,Naoya is a dick,Blood and gore/ violence,Mentions of abuse/ getting paid to receive abuse,Prostitution,Murder,Choking,Strangling,Bent over a desk,Blood spray

<<< For more Suguru content, click this link to go back to the Masterlist! >>>

It was raining again.

It always seemed to rain on the days you were furthest down in the pit you couldn’t seem to get away from.

Just one more month. Then, you could escape the place that had forced upon you a false sense of security under the guise of taking care of their own, giving you opportunities to make connections and garner more attention. When you got out of here, like hell would you ever go to the rich old men that fleeted in and out of those double doors just for a touch of your body.

You loathed the attention, but how were you ever to pay for the piling medical bills if you didn’t? Illness struck families like a train wreck, while evident of the damage at surface level, the true monster lusting for blood lingered underneath where no one could see him.

Still, you worked that pole every night like your own life depended on it and waited for the inevitable. You catch someone’s eye and they pilfer you off into a specialty private room for thirty minutes and do whatever they want to you- within reason.

Warranted, the reasons were… vague. 

But that’s why each girl had a state of the art android to accompany them in each room. The club stated they were merely for the client’s needs, though you saw it as a deterrent. Though the androids did not gossip, or even function as real human beings, their extraordinarily human-like faces were enough to make the more aggressively sexual men think twice. They did not need to eat, gather materialistic things or take bathroom breaks. And required no payment in return for their services.

The android who you were automatically paired with on arrival was more often than not, the same one. It seemed to like going by the name Suguru. Well, you couldn’t quite call the android ‘it’ to its face, the android was far too human-like to ever be considered an ‘it’ by you.

So you referred to the android as ‘he’. And Sugru seemed to be content by it.

“Good evening, Miss Lady.” His name for you when every other android referred to you by first name alone.

“Hello, Suguru. How… how are you doing?” Like he could actually give you a detailed description of sitting in storage until the club opened.

“Delightful. I’m ready to work tonight like always. I hope you are well?”

He watched you like he always did, more closely than the others. It was as though he was trying to work you out, or figure what facial expression you were using to properly gauge the conversation. You could never read him because you never knew what he was thinking, that was if he thought about things in the first place.

What do androids think about when they aren’t working? Do they judge people, or maybe they talk to each other like some weird social network we aren’t aware of? 

“I’m good, thank you-”

“Still conversing with those things like they know how you’re feeling?”

You looked over your shoulder and noticed your colleague already dressed and ready, her skirt riding up her thighs and heels higher than necessary. It only made her taller and more intimidating, right from the soles of her feet which she loved stepping on weaker men with, to her snow white hair that fell effortlessly past her accentuated shoulders.

“Hi Mei, uh… I-” you stopped before you followed her into the dressing room. “I’ll be right out, Suguru.”

Mei’s sarcastic chuckle made you follow behind and try to justify yourself. “I just feel bad for these androids… no pay, constantly working or sitting in that stuffy warehouse when they aren’t. It sort of makes me feel bad, y’know?”

“They’re just expensive hunks of metal and plastic, Love. Nothing human will come from them, they just turn a profit.”

“But what if one day, they did?”

A constant thought across your mind, what if one day, an android decided that enough was enough and snapped? You had seen how those things were treated in public, who knew how they were treated behind closed doors? With the advancements in technology, anything was possible now.

It made you wary of them.

“I doubt they’ll do it in our lifetime, if they were to do something like that. I wouldn’t bother about it, not when the tips are this good and we don’t have to share with them.” Mei sat down at the dresser and fiddled with her hair whilst you began getting changed.

You had done your make up before you left home tonight, the routine taking far too long to entertain getting wet out in the oncoming thunderstorm. You took a taxi, an expensive one at that. But again, you reiterated to yourself that you only had a month and you could get out of here and find another job while you paid off one of the bigger medical bills you had been saving for.

Another job, one more dignified and better paying. In the coming week, you had three interviews lined up, all fully aware of your current occupation and they all still agreed to entertain an interview. You were incredibly hopeful.

“Well, I’ll be off.” She climbed back out of her seat and smoothed out the skirt that covered a portion of skin Mei usually had on show. “Yaga’s back for seconds. I just can’t help but make him feel tiny. Poor man…”

See, Mei had a niche which had the usual suspects and even the more shocking ones flock to her. You had a niche too. A dangerous one to get as many tips as possible.

You learned how to apply makeup pretty early on to flawlessly hide the evidence of the clients misdeeds so that it didn’t prove you to be ‘used’ or ‘damaged’. That seemed to lower the amount of tips you would receive on a nightly basis. Sure, Makeup took time, but when it was the difference between a thirty dollar tip, to something more upwards of two hundred dollars, you learned exceedingly fast to understand what men wanted.

In other words, you let them downright abuse you, if you wanted to call it what it actually was. Though your manager just called it being overzealous, or sexually frustrated. It still never stopped you from wandering home at three o’clock in the morning and sobbing in the bathtub scrubbing the sweat and filthy fingerprints from your body on a nightly basis.

Still, One more month to go. Then you’d be free for a time.

“Are you ready, Miss Lady?” Suguru had been waiting outside for you like he always did, almost waiting on your command to leave the spot he’d been instructed to wait.

“I am, you can go ahead and wait at the bar until I have a client, Suguru.”

He blinked at you, his expression even neutral. “My apologies, Mr Zenin, has sent over the docket for tonight. You already have five bookings and you are to go into room three  momentarily, but-.” His eyes stared blankly into nothing. “Mr Zenin has just requested you into his office.”

Naoya Zenin, the club manager once taking over from his father who was just as much a bastard and he was. You barely ever saw him these days and when you did, it was maybe for a few minutes before he took his usual girls into his office to fuck. Everyone seemed to love him, you absolutely loathed him. Most of the girls here had slept with Naoya at some point, the exceptions being you and Mei, because Mei made it clear that she’d never do such a thing for free when she could get paid for it.

And Naoya Zenin wasn’t a man to be belittled like she enjoyed. No, he took pleasure in doing that himself.

“Uh oh…”

“Is there anything I can help with?” Suguru remained on that spot, his head tilted to the side as he studied your expression.

“Can you come with me? I-I think I know what this is about.” Your resignation. You were obligated to, by law, give electronic notice on file to even attend an interview. Some companies withheld releasing it if they weren’t sure of your suitability for the job, and some did so before the interview. This meant one of the jobs you were interviewing for must have decided to take you on without an introductory interview.

So Naoya must have received your resignation.

“Of course.” Suguru nodded and led you across the club to Naoya’s office.

Would he get angry? Of course he would. You being the only girl that let men hurt you the way they day turned a huge profit for him, he was set to lose out on a large chunk of money if you were to go.

But he couldn’t keep you here. Well, you were sure he couldn’t.

You knocked and tried to make sure that it left no room for interpretation that you were scared, or anxious in seeing him. The door slid open automatically and Naoya Zenin sat behind his desk like he was the king of this little fucked up kingdom his father created.

Talk about riding on someone else's coattails.

“Mr Zenin, you wanted to see me?” You bowed as was custom and stood as straight as you could so the animal could not see you as prey, yet he did most of the time.

Suguru stood off to the side and seemed to power down, staring off into space at a specific spot on the panelled wood wall.

“You walk in 'ere tonight just like that, and yer handing ya notice in?” He was never one for actual introductions or pleasantries.

What could you even say to that? ‘I dont fucking want to be here anymore you creepy prick?’ No, even though you wanted to.

“Uh…I-”

“Stop mutterin’ and use yer words carefully.”

“I have family obligations that have changed, so I have to be available at night. My apologies, sir… I haven’t attended any interviews yet- I didn’t know they were-”

You jumped at the sound of his fist banging on the table that should have shattered his own fist, your heart thumped and never settled whilst the adrenaline pumped through your system.

“You think you can leave?” His wide grin did not match the fury in his voice. Then he huffed and seemed to simmer down instantly. “I guess you can do what yer want, who am I to stop ya, hm?”

Every alarm bell in the pit of your stomach jumped up and down and screamed at you not to trust him, to get out and leave right away. “Thank you, Sir… I-I realise this is sudden.”

A month was not sudden, he had plenty of time to find another girl to replace you. But would he? Again, your gut was coaching you to step back and leave through the office door and maybe use Suguru as a shield of sorts to protect you from the raw anger you knew Naoya had.

“Come ‘ere.”

“Sir?”

He motioned to his lap and patted it, practically cooing at you. You were in no position to refuse now either. Would Suguru protect you if Naoya were to do something rash, or would he just watch like all the other times you were in a fearful situation?

“I said, come here.” He said so with a terrifying smile on his face that you assumed was supposed to be a comforting one.

You did, and instantly regretted that decision.

Naoya sat lazily slumped in his chair, turning to face you with a certain impassive expression. “Yer a clever girl, aren’t ya?”

How should you respond to that? “Well… I-”

It was quicker than you ever could have anticipated, Naoya took a fist full of your hair and pulled you down awkwardly so your head was level with his own. “Y’think you can just walk outta here? I own you, yer contract is up when I say it is.”

“Mr Zenin- ow!- please let go, I have clients!”

He yanked you close and his voice grumbled in your ear to tickle it uncomfortably. “You work when I say. You stop when I say. You fuck when I say. Got it?” 

You were certain if you agreed, he’d let you go. “O-okay, I understand-“

He stood up and kicked the large office chair behind him which slammed against the wooden panels. You lost your balance as he pushed you, still with a fistful of your hair so that you fell on top of his desk.

Just then, the office door opened. “Mr Zenin I have some-“

“Fuck off!”

You couldn’t tell who it was, but they reacted to Naoya’s aggressive words like anyone else. The office door closed immediately and you were on your own again.

Suguru still remained where he was after a brief glance you managed in his direction.

Stupid android. Think for yourself! 

It was like he was unaware that you were bent over Naoya’s desk, his hips pressed against you and his ironclad grip squeezing the base of your neck which shoved your face into the mahogany.

“Now. You’ll be a good slut, and do yer job. Or I’ll make things real difficult for you. Do y’understand?”

“Mr Zenin-“

“You women are all the same, aren’t ya? Always me, me, me and never thinkin’ what the men want. I could kill your right now and y’wouldn’t be missed… don’t forget all I do for ya, a lil appreciation wouldn’t go amiss.”

Now he was squeezing your neck, silently choking you. His weight on top of you made it difficult to move, to speak, plead.

“S-Suguru…” his blurred out of sight when things got dark.

“I’ll keep a close eye on ya from now on, don’t yer forget it- what that fuck do you want, fuck off!” 

You couldn’t see what was happening, you only gasped for breath and coughed, spluttering at the sudden release from your neck. Naoya had let go and gone silent, but you didn’t dare move or open your eyes for fear it was some sick test.

A struggle. You sensed a struggle behind you. He could have been putting his perversions on you and touching himself. That’s what you assumed until you dared to look and saw that Suguru was no longer where he was before. 

“You fuckin’…” you took a chance and spun around to see Naoya clawing at Suguru’s hands around his neck.

“Apologise to her.” The android said, teeth gritting and fists shaking.

“S-Suguru,” you were still coughing and nursing your neck. “Don’t kill him… They’ll deactivate you.”

“Fuck… you…” Naoya managed, his eyes swelling and bloodshot from an insurmountable pressure.

You didn’t realise the blood splatter until you were sprayed with it, when Suguru ripped his throat out and showered you with iron smelling red. Naoya clutched at his neck and went to grab you, falling down to his knees gurgling like a hose pipe. And then, he didn’t move after he fell to the ground.

You tried to breathe, taking in little shallow half gasps to try and calm yourself before you spoke. You were sure to scream in terror to cope with all that blood. There was a lot of blood in the body, no one ever mentioned that before. 

Suguru covered your mouth before you could scream, pulling you close to his chest and burying his fingers in your hair. The blood was seeping into you strapped heels and disgustingly clinging between your toes. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I just could bear it anymore. I really tried.”

You managed to pull your head away so that you could try to formulate words. Suguru’s change of character begged a question that managed to articulate itself amidst the panic.

“W-what… how are- how come…”

How was Suguru talking that way and why was he moving more fluid than you’d ever seen?

He caressed your cheek and rubbed red from your face. “I know this must be a shock, to be honest it is for me too. I don’t really know what’s going on.. But seeing you hurting all the time makes me so...” He was searching for the words. “Angry… and I don’t want you coming to harm ever again. Not while I’m around.”

“You… you’re thinking for yourself.” So the time came before your lifetime ended. “They’ll deactivate you for this, Suguru- I can’t protect you.”

“No… it’s my turn to protect you. We'll run away, and you never have to come back here again.”

The thought of running away occurred to you, just not with an android. Especially one that had just murdered someone right in front of you. You wanted to say no, but the power imbalance frightened you. What if he didn’t like your answer and did something to you? He said he didn’t like people hurting you, but never expressly said he wouldn’t hurt you.

“How does that sound? Do you want to get out of here?”

What was the right choice?

Leave with him in fear of the police and fear of his sudden temper?

Or send an android who was just protecting you back for deactivation?

Whichever you chose, you’d have to live with the consequences.

DISCLAIMER - Crossposted from my AO3 - I do not own any of the characters or anything from the anime or game. This is a work of fan fiction and is absolutely not representative of the views or intentions of the original creator(s).

Also please don’t post any of my work without permission thank you!

[gothicflowers]

Domestic Price headcanons!! ON MY HANDS AND KNEES!!!

Domestic!Price x F!reader

WARNING MDNI (+18 ONLY)

Warnings : tooth rotting fluff, some sexual references.

Word Count: ? So many

Sorry this took me forever to write, the past month has been insane. But things are finally getting better and I’m feeling creative.

Domestic!Price isn’t someone that many are familiar with. Especially those he works with. When price joined the military he was a teen who was in the punk scene and he couldn’t hold a job for more than a month. The man was running from the cops and passed out at random houses half the week. By six pm there was liquor on his breath. His dear mom had enough one day and kicked him out. When he stumbled through the front door she had a suitcase full of his good clothes packed and handed him a small amount of cash. He told her he didn’t care and he didn’t need her. After two months of couch surfing and working odd end jobs for cash he seen something about enlisting in the military. Free housing, consistent pay and a uniform. John knew he could pick up girls easily with a uniform on, easier than his charming personality already could.

Six months later he’s in basic training regretting his decision to join. He came into basic training more out of shape than he thought. He hates reading and is having to study and sit through classes when he’s not being drilled. But by week five somehow he’s leading the class. Perfect scores on test, marksmanship skills are undeniably good, and maybe that mandatory haircut doesn’t look too bad.

He graduated top of his academy class with flying colors. Five years later price has slowed worked his way up the chain. He’s still a cocky bastard but nobody can deny his knowledge of strategies and tactics. He’s a hard ass to new guys but ensures they are well trained, after all John is a firm believer that you’re only as good as your weakest guy.

After two years of being in he realized his mom was right. So on one of his days off he showed up to his moms with flowers and sweets and apologized and thanked her for giving him the push he needed. Even if he didn’t realize it at the time.

John Price has finally got his life together. But he’s still a playboy who doesn’t see the point in setting down with a nice lady. He has time right?

Before he knows it LT John Price in his early thirties. Nobody to come home to every night actually sucks. Too much beer gives him a headache and he’s not much for parties anymore. He’s picked up a few hobbies like leather-working and fishing, but there is still a void in his life. Price is… alone.

John didn’t fear commitment, but young John didn’t see how keeping a woman by his side would benefit him then. John wishes he could go back in time and smack himself for all the times he turned down sweet kind women who wanted to settle down. He broke so many hearts, all because he thought he had time.

That’s when he starts daydreaming. Thoughts of walking through the front door and being greeted by his lover and maybe even a dog or two. Summers nights stargazing rather than slouched on the couch with a beer in hand. Having purpose, a life outside of his job. So he put the effort into making a dating profile and goes on a few dates. A few horrible dates. So he deleted the profile and slowly gave up.

Then one day you cashed into his life, well... technically he did.

Literally.

John wasn’t paying attention while backing his car out at the supermarket and backed right into your car. Your bumper was deeply scratched and your taillight cracked. You both pulled back into your parking spaces to look at the damage. Before you knew it the idiot driver that backed into you was next to you profusely apologizing. The man had tired eyes and looked defeated at his careless actions. You couldn’t deny that the idiot was incredibly handsome.

“I’m so sorry, I should have looked in my mirror and I didn’t and I-“ John rambled.

“Don’t worry, this car has more scratches than I care to count” you replied giggling.

John was clearly struggling to talk as he was distracted by your beautiful face “I completely busted that taillight. Ma’am I’m so sorry. I can get my insurance and we can get this sorted”

“Well it’s a rather old car, so I have a better proposition” you smiled watching the mountain of a man remove his beanie to rub his hair.

“What would that be” he asked.

You smirked “Well there is a cafe on the corner. You look like you could use a coffee and so could I. We go have a nice cup, sit down like old friends and chat. Look online for a taillight replacement instead of getting insurance involved”.

You pleasantly surprised John and he agreed to your idea. Firstly because he hates dealing with paperwork and secondly because this beautiful creature wanted to actually talk to him. Somehow you two just clicked.After two hours of nonstop chatting and learning about each other John received a call from work demanding him to come in on his day off. Unfortunately closing your time together.

“Well I quite enjoyed this. And if you’re comfortable with it I can install that taillight when it comes in. I would hate for you to do it yourself. And maybe after I can take you out to dinner” John said, getting a little shy with his last sentence. He was praying he didn’t misinterpret and scare you off.

“What a gentleman. I would love that” you eagerly answered. You wrote down your number for him on a napkin.

(000)-000-0000

Y/N xoxo

A broken taillight is the beginning of Domestic!Price

About a week later John arrived on your doorstep with a bouquet of flowers, a tool bag and a new taillight. He was a tad bit nervous hoping to make a good impression.

Domestic!Price is the definition of chivalry.

He opens all doors for you and is quick to lend you his coat if you show the slightest signs of a chill.

Before you know it John brings you fresh flowers every week. Your grandmother always told you the stronger the intentions the longer the flowers will last. And the flowers John brings you live for what seems like an eternity.

As much as John wants to move fast he forces himself to slow his pace. He feels the need to prove he’s the gentleman you deserve. Especially after learning about your shitty dating experiences.

Even when he brought you home from your first date he only left with a kiss. Granted it was a long passionate kiss, but just a kiss. He’d desperately wanted to tear your clothes off in that moment, but didn’t want to give off the impression that he expected it. He said goodnight and left. You were kinda shocked that you two didn’t fuck, you took an everything shower and had lingerie under your outfit. But it was actually refreshing to find a man that was satisfied with just a kiss. He wasn’t putting on an act the whole night to get lucky, he was genuinely interested in you.

His good morning texts always arrive to your phone around 5:45AM. John did warn you beforehand that he frequently is away from his phone during meetings and trainings so you never worry about him ignoring or long awaited responses.

John will wake up before you regardless of the day. He’s usually found making coffee/tea and breakfast somewhere around 08:30. He usually brings it all up to bed on a tray. Heaven forbid he lets you lift a finger this early. Every morning you both snuggle with your coffee and listen to the birds chirping outside the window.

Domestic!Price is not very good at cooking, breakfast and desserts are the only things you let him make. Mostly because he’s surprisingly good at making them. You always tell him if he leaves the military he should be a pastry chef. Price likes comfort food, hardy meals that almost make him fall asleep afterwards. He’s in denial about gaining 15 pounds since he met you. But he feels that the extra pounds are just the extra love you gave him to carry around. He had to go down a notch on his belt because he’s got a little love handle to him now. You feed him well.

Football is his thing. Price is very passionate about it but thankfully he’s calm about it, he knows you don’t do well with yelling in the house. Usually takes you to a couple games a season. You two have matching jerseys, yes he had them custom made.

He hates messy. When he first joined the military he had two roommates that never picked up after themselves, neither did he. Until one day he found a molded plate in between the couch cushions, he started to become a clean freak after that. He moved out a few months later when his roommate’s wouldn’t clean up their mess.

Nowadays Domestic!Price loves a clean home. He made a chore list for both of you. He always helps you with your chores despite you telling him to relax. He loves candles and the smell of fresh sheets. Price wasn’t very organized before he met you, thankfully you managed to get the home organized and he can find everything now.

IKEA who? Never head of her. Domestic!price likes wood working. The kitchen table, cabinets, china hutch and so much more was all hand made by price. But the most elaborate thing he’s ever made? The bed frame. It has some… flair as he called it when it was finally put together. The frame has secret pockets for rope to be tied to. Specifically so he can tie you down. And let’s not forget that makeup vanity he made you, that mirror is a lockable cabinet containing a whirlwind of things. Vibes, clamps, ropes, differently shaped dildos, paddles, you name it it’s in there. Why is there two smoke alarms in your bedroom? Well… one of the is just a cover for that ceiling hook so he can suspend you.

Domestic price doesn’t mind vanilla sex. Lots of times you two disregard the kinky objects and are just wrapped in a passionate embrace. John’s not one for staying quiet, both of you could be heard from the front door when you’re together. He will be soundproofing the room if you two decide on kids.

Speaking of kids this man has the biggest breeding kink known to man. It’s not seeing his cum dripping out of your hole that fuels the fire in his belly. It’s the sheer thought of you both sitting around the dinner table with your kids asking each other about their day. Dance recitals and little league games. Watching you being a loving parent and having everything you need. That’s what he desires out of life.

Domestic!Price craves domestic life. Where there’s no threat, no bogeyman in the closet, no sound of gunfire, there’s just you two and the home you created.

John always drives, you’re a passenger princess. If it’s a nice day he takes you out for a drive in his classic car he restored himself. Windows down while 2000’s dad rock plays. Speaking of music he likes to collect vinyls. His collection grew heavily when he started buying records that you like. He plays Fleetwood Mac’s Rumors album weekly.

Domestic!Price likes slow dancing with the lights dimmed late at night. He’s a fan of 70’s music and it’s his usual go to for dancing. His father heavily influenced his music taste.

Price doesn’t care for the term boyfriend. After about a month of you two dating he promoted himself to husband. John said boyfriend “sounds childish at our age” when you asked sweetly what that was about when he introduced himself to your coworkers. He said he wouldn’t do it again if it made you uncomfortable to which you promptly said you liked it and much preferred the idea of being his wife rather than his girlfriend. That night he started looking at rings.

He went through your jewelry taking note if you wore gold or silver more. What types of jewelry styles interested you. The man was on a mission for the perfect ring. And what doesn’t it matter if you two have only been together two months? His grandparents met and married after three months and they were the definition of true love.

And yes he did propose at only four months. It was better than you could have imagined. He planned a whole weekend getaway and you never suspected it. He had rented a private boat for you two and brought champagne and charcuterie. He proposed a toast to you two and got down on one knee. You were both crying tears of joy when you said yes.

Unlike most men who buy their significant other jewelry he doesn’t buy you stones. Pearls, he buys you pearls. Expensive ones too. There’s just something about them on your neck that drives him wild. He hasn’t made the connection but it feeds into his housewife kink. There is something about him coming home from a long day and seeing you in a dress wearing those peals and an apron. A hot meal and the table is already set. You take his coat off and asking him about his day. Perfection.

Domestic!Price doesn’t share much about work. You know what he does and the stresses. He listened to your advice and does some therapy to help deal with his stress levels and the things he’s gone through. He slowly starts thinking about transferring to a job that won’t put him in the field.

He invited the boys over for dinner and his men were quite shocked. John didn’t give them much notice or anything really other than “don’t be late”.

Gaz who showed up in a tracksuit was under the impression this was a boys night with pizza and beer was shocked to arrive at a beautiful home with a perfect garden of roses. Ghost knew of your existence quite well as price loves to talk about your cooking and how much he misses you when they deploy. Soap… well… he said some things in Gaelic that you didn’t understand but surely they were those of surprise. Soap felt like a dumbass for wearing jeans and a cutoff tee.

John met them at the door and welcomed them in. The boys were rather impressed by the decor and how cozy it looked. The men half expected the home to be bare as they never took price as one for decor. But the biggest shock to Soap and Gaz was you, a woman slightly younger than Price who was in cooking in the kitchen is a pretty dress, heels and pearls. Even though Ghost was aware of your existence he was floored at how Price could pull such a beautiful woman.

Price proudly introduced you with his are around you lower back. After pleasantries they all offered to help you finish cooking, to which you laughed and said no. Even price shook his head because he knows you have your process of cooking and don’t like extra hands because it overwhelms you. And when you brought them a tray of neatly made drinks you have sworn Soap about died. No wonder Price always comes to work in a good mood, he’s got a pretty bird like you at home.

After seeing what his captains life is like outside of work it gave him some hope, maybe it’s possible to have a stable relationship with this job. Soap made a joke about “sharing”. That was the first time Price ever thought of beating Soap into the ground. Price is too proud of the life he daydreamed about to let another man or woman come into the picture. Just the thought of losing you or your lips kissing anyone but his will send him into a spiral. You’re his world. His to love, fuck, and protect.

Domestic!Price likes to slow down when he’s not at work. Life at a slower pace is more enjoyable. He can take in the sweet moments and the sunshine. He slowly starts bringing Simon and the boys around more and they too realize this.

Domestic!price doesn’t fully understand social media. He isn’t on any, most because of his job. Plus he doesn’t like how fake people are on it. He lets you post pictures of you two together but his face is always uniquely hidden, for your own protection of course. The first picture you posted of you two was actually from your wedding. You both walked together hand in hand as he was kissing your temple. After that you received several calls and texts from old friends and distant relatives asking when did you get married? Who is he? Where did you two meet?

Speaking of yours and prices wedding domestic Price was very involved in the planning. He found the most beautiful venue and really liked picking florals. I mean this man went over budget because he wanted the most elegant and elaborate flower arrangements. If you have any cultural customs John was very adamant that your customs would be met to your specifications.

Unfortunately John’s family is a handful and wanted to plan the wedding, his mother thought it was her big day. John sat her down and had a long conversation about boundaries and respect towards his soon to be wife. She actually apologized as she didn’t realize how much she was overstepping. Your mother was shocked that John was very involved with the planning, but it made her adore him even more.

You both have relatively large families but decided to keep the guests list under sixty people. Only close family and friends. This ruffled some feathers but it made for a perfect day. John is very good at controlling his emotions but when he seen you walk down the aisle his eyes welled with tears.

Domestic!Price can’t wear his ring to work. He wanted to tattoo a ring or your name somewhere on him but still feared it could be used as easy leverage. So he has a large chest tattoo that incorporates your favorite flowers and bird. In fact he starts slowing getting tattoos about you. It’s his way of keeping you with him when he’s gone.

[paperclip-skz]

Always Knew

fem*Reader x Minho

*WARNING*

contains p n v, sex, unprotected sex, kissing, oral ( men receiving), tension, fluff; I'm sure I missed something; let me know in the comments.

WC: 2.3k

*****

You stumble past the door, flinging your shoes off to the side and slinging your coat onto the rack. 

Your body deflates like a balloon the second you walk into your shared apartment. “How’d it go?” Minho calls from the couch, watching some new random drama. You walk to the living room, where he is comfortably sitting in his perfect plain grey shirt and his perfect black sweat. Why does he have to be so goddamn perfect? You grumble internally. 

He tears his eyes away from the screen and looks at you, where his face lights up like a Christmas tree. “Bad date?” he smirks. 

“Oh, wipe that stupid smirk off,” you crumble, falling down onto the couch in a huff. You reach for some popcorn from the bowl resting on the coffee table. You stuff your face with a handful of popcorn and glue your eyes to the TV screen. 

“What was so bad about this one?” Minho side-eyes you.

You roll your eyes at the memory of your failed date, “what wasn’t bad about him?! He didn��t pay! He forgot my name twice!” You twist your body completely to him, trying to get your aggravating point across. “he kept talking about his job like nonstop. He didn’t want to have a conversation; he just wanted to talk! AND he chewed with his mouth open….ALL NIGHT!”

You slam your body to the couch, making it all dramatic like the world is ending, and for you, it just might. This is number 7 down the drain, and it all just seems hopeless, especially because the one you really want is laughing right beside you. 

“It sounds like you just got unlucky…again,” he smirks.

“Uuugh,” you say, grab the nearest pillow, set it right between you and Minho, and slam your head against it. Minho chuckles at your overdramatic self and starts petting the crazy strands of hair that stick out. 

What you don’t know is that Minho is secretly throwing a party in his head. He dreads the day you come home from another one of those cheap dates and you're actually happy. So when he says his next words, they are through gritted teeth.“Come on, kitty, there's always next time,” he coos sarcastically. 

You lift your head, your frown still visible. Oh, what Minho would give to tug on that pouted lip and make you whimper. “Yeah, I guess you're right.” Minho is knocked out of his thoughts by you, shuffling into a position on the couch and getting your phone into your hand. 

You begin the tedious journey of going back to swiping left or right, looking at profiles and bios to see if anyone strikes your interest. 

Minho tries his hardest to pay attention back to the drama he is watching, but he can’t help but look over your shoulder. Who are you looking for? What are you looking for? Surely, he could be that person, that one person you crave. He could be anything you’d ever need. 

“Oh! Heres someone! He’s cute…I guess” he watches you read and contemplate. He can see the indents of your brows and your bottom lip disappearing into your teeth, and he can visually see you thinking about a date. NOT CONFIRMING, but thinking. 

Emotions surge through him. Is he really going to stand by for an 8th date just to risk the idea of you walking in here with a smile plastered on your face?

No.

“Fuck!” he runs his hands up and down his face, which makes your head snap up. You stare at his stressed-out face, and his hands slap down to his lap as he stares at you, thinking about something.

“Fuck what?” you ask in a small voice. 

“Fuck this, I’m sorry, but I’m done waiting” he grabs both sides of your face to bring you closer to him, smashing your lips on his. His kiss is anything but gentle or soft; it's hurried and sloppy. He thinks you’ll push him away; thats why his kiss is hurried, trying to get every taste of you savored and memorized before you run away. 

But you don’t. To his surprise and yours, you lean in. moaning into his mouth and reaching around to grasp his head to deepen the kiss. 

You both part for a breath, not realizing how long your tongues had been intertwined. “I—I’m sorry. I—I just…I couldn’t,” he stutters, failing his words. 

Now, it's your turn to grab his face and softly connect your lips, and now it's your turn to lead the kiss. You take your time, swiping your tongue along his bottom lip and twirling your tongue, which makes both of you see stars. This time when you part, he immediately attacks your neck with little kisses, sucking on the skin just above your collarbone. 

Your eyes roll to the back of your head, relishing the feeling of his soft lips on your skin. You always imagined what his lips would feel like… soft, warm, and inviting, with a hint of urgency and a touch of tenderness.

You roll your head back, giving him more access to your skin. Minho growls at your invitation, taking advantage of your exposed neck. He litters your skin with love bites, making sure to go over each with his tongue, leaving beautiful red marks that you surely won’t be able to cover up in the morning. 

You can feel your panties drip with arousal, knowing all this foreplay is only adding to the turn in your stomach, “Minho, please,” you whine. Minho disconnects himself from your neck, and you gasp at the sight of him. His eyes are blown, his lips are swollen from all the kissing, and his chest heaves out of control with each breath. 

You bite your lip at the sight of him. “I had a very nice dream that started like this."

“Oh yeah?” you perk, shifting your position so you are straddling his lap on the couch. “What was it about?” you asked, curious about his fanites about you. 

“I dreamt of your legs wrapped around my waist.” You fully seat your ass on his growing hard-on, and his eyes close in a heavenly way, “Your head was thrown back so I could mark your neck,” he groans out as you start to rock your hips back and forth. The tip of his cock pushes against your clit every time. 

Words are lost as you continue your movements, but Minho keeps going, describing his vivid dream: "You were screaming my name as I rammed myself into you.” his last word left his lips, and his hips bucked into you; his groin pushing straight up to your core. 

You moan loudly, not caring if the neighbors might hear. Before you can protest, Minho is grabbing you by cupping your ass and lifting you so he can carry you to his bedroom. The second he slams you down onto the bed, he’s ripping your clothes off, leaving you bare before him, and he's throwing his clothes somewhere in a far-off corner. 

You gaze at the sight of him. You’ve seen him shirtless before, but always on accident, not daring to look a second further, but now you have a chance to gaze, a chance to ogle over every defined line of his body. He’s perfectly toned and perfectly built, and the little scar on the underside of his stomach sticks out like a sore thumb, almost like a birthmark. 

He waits for you to say something, do something…You lean up, never breaking eye contact with him, a place a gentle kiss on his scar. You never minded it, in fact, the deepest parts of you thought it was sexy, but you knew he didn’t like it. 

His gaze met yours with a newfound intensity, a subtle smile playing at the corner of his lips, hinting at a mischievous thought. And then you realized your position.

He brought his hand carefully up to the side of your cheek guiding you to your covered erection. He was still in his boxers, the tight elastic taunting you. 

You look up to him one last time for permission and he urges you on. You hook your finger into the band and tug down his boxers, letting his cock spring free. 

Your eyes widen and your breath freezes. Your mouth waters at the sight of a long, thick, prominent vein outlining his entire length. The tip budging and red, begging for attention, and the precum that leaks has you instinctively wetting your lips. 

“I’ll take it that you like what you see,” he smirks. 

You steadily reach out and fist his cock; the feeling makes him hiss. You know from past experiences how tight a guy enjoys it…but you decided to be a tease and loosely stroke his cock. 

“Tease me some more, and I’ll show you my reaction,” His deep, guttural growl reverberates through the air, sending a chill down your spine and causing you to clench in response to his intimidating words.

Immediately, you correct your hand, tightening your grip. You see him hold back moans and whimpers from how painfully he’s biting his lip, and the sight makes you pool in your panties. Experimentally you dart your tongue out to the tip of his cock, coating it in small kitten licks. A small guttural groan escapes past his lips, which sends a strike of confidence through your body. With that same confidence, you part your lips, letting his length past them. Finally, He releases a series of beautiful, melodic whimpers that echo through the room along with the sinful noises you make, taking the full length of his cock. 

You’re so focused on not gagging on his cock that you don’t realize that Minho has full eyes on you, watching your lips wrap around him. Watching you fully engulfed with him makes him twitch, shit….he’s not gonna last long.

His cock throbs heavily on your greedy tongue, the rich, creamy flavor of his pre-cum already embedded in your mind. You begin to bob your head back and forth, sucking the rim of his cock into your mouth. 

 He’s wanted this for so long that he didn’t realize how good you’d actually feel. Mindlessly he grips your hair and yanks you off of his cock. He pushes your shoulders down and falls on top of you, kissing your lips. He can taste the saltiness of his precum on your lips, which only makes him hungrier for more. 

His tongue demands entrance, and you're quick to grant it. Without thinking, you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling his free cock closer to your bare core. You can feel him slip around against your sensitive lips with all the wetness thats gathered. 

You both sigh at the feeling. His tip only catches your entrance with every steady hump but never fully settles into you. “Minho!” you whine. 

With one last playful smirk he sends your way, he FINALLY pushes his entire length into you. You can feel every vein, every ridge of himself, and every small twitch he makes. 

He watches every single movement of your face, watching it contort in pleasure. His eyes shut tight as he tries with every fiber of himself not to ruin the moment, to let you relish in being stretched open for him. He wants so badly to lose control and pound into you, but he knows you need time. 

He can feel you clenching, the tightness of your cunt making him curse under his breath. “Baby, please tell me I can move,” he said, leaning his forehead against yours. 

Words are lost; they die on your tongue before you can force them out, so you respond with a quiet nod of your head. He takes it, and he starts rocking his hips slowly into you. 

Your mouth parts and the feeling of him pushed all the way inside you; you could swear you could see the smallest bump outlining your stomach, disappearing when Minho rocks out and reappearing when he rocks back into you. 

Minho picks up his pace every so slightly, all the while connecting his eyes with yours. You grip the sheets, holding back your screams, your mind already a mess of pleasure. 

“God, you’re so beautiful,” he whimpers. You have no idea how long I’ve wanted you like this.” He places a chaste kiss on your lips, “Please, Y/N…Please let me show how badly I want you.” He takes a breath, never slowing down in his pace. “Let me show you how much I love you.”

His words make your chest swell, and they almost bring tears to your eyes. “O-okay. How much do you love me, Minho?” 

Your words hang in the air like cigarette smoke before Minho takes action. His hips become pistons. Slamming into you with no pause in sight. You can’t hold back your screams anymore; you scream his name over and over, letting him know who you belong to. 

His thumb sneaks down to trace lazy circles that make your whole body shiver. “I love you, Y/N, I do,” he all but cries.

Your mind is so blown out with pleasure and overwhelming happiness that tears begin to roll down your cheeks. “Say it back, Y/N, please!” he begs. 

“I love you too!” you come crashing as your words bounce off the walls. Shivering on Minho's cock, and that is all he needs to find his release, coating your inner gummy walls white. 

Minho makes no move to pull out, settling still inside you as he collapses on top of you, enveloping your lips with his. You both break the kiss, locking eyes with one another. 

"I love you," you whisper, the words carrying the weight of all the moments you've shared together, the laughter and tears, the late-night conversations and quiet moments. As you speak, you feel the depth of your emotions, the profound connection that binds you together. He looks at you, his eyes reflecting the memories you've made, and in that moment, you see a new tenderness, a deeper understanding, and something unspoken. It's as if all the unspoken words, all the gestures and glances, converge in this single moment. You know he loves you back…..you’ve always known. 

[favefandomimagines]

Storm’s Eye (t.o)

Request: @lonelyghosts-stuff “Helllllllo! I hope you are doing well! I was wondering if I could request a Tyler Owens x Reader enemies to lovers fic? I am such a sucker for that trope especially if it's like actually enemies who hate each other but then grow to care through shared experiences and learning about each other. Angsty and life and death stuff. Just super tropey lol”

AN: I’ve been trying a new writing style where I don’t write in the first person but rather the third person, but still using Y/N. Let me know what you guys think!

The sky was a bruised shade of purple.Tyler Owens was behind the wheel of his truck, eyes flicking between the horizon and the radar screen. He gripped the steering wheel, every fiber of his being tuned into the storm brewing in the distance. This was what he lived for—chasing the thrill, the danger.

Beside him, Boone and Javi were having a conversation about the best burgers in Oklahoma, but Tyler wasn’t paying attention. He was more concerned with staying ahead of the supercell that was beginning to form just over the ridge. His mind raced with calculations, predictions, and strategies, keeping track of the storm's trajectory in his head.

Then there was her.

Sitting in the backseat, quietly scrolling through the radar on her own tablet, was the new meteorologist Javi had brought onto the team. Y/N Y/L/N, the woman who had already gotten under Tyler’s skin.

“What do you think, Tyler?” Javi asked, peering over Tyler’s shoulder. “Y/N says we should head north and catch the storm as it loops back around.”

Tyler’s eyes snapped to the rearview mirror, catching Y/N’s gaze. Her eyes were sharp, confident—like she thought she knew everything there was to know about storms. It irked him.

“North?” Tyler scoffed, his voice laced with irritation. “We’re wasting time if we go north. The storm’s going to pivot east, not loop back. If you want to catch it, we need to stay on this road and head southeast.”

Y/N leaned forward, her expression calm but firm. “That storm’s got a hook echo forming. It’s going to swing north before it turns east. If we stay southeast, we’ll miss the rotation.”

“Miss the rotation?” Tyler barked a laugh. “I’ve been chasing storms for years, and I know this system. You’re just reading the radar. I can feel it.”

Her jaw clenched, but she didn’t back down. “You think I’m just looking at a screen? I’ve been in the field, too. And I’m telling you, if we don’t adjust course, we’re going to be too far south to catch anything.”

Javi glanced between them, trying to keep the peace. “Hey, guys, how about we—”

“I’m the leader of this team,” Tyler interrupted, his tone hard. “We’re sticking with my call. We go southeast.”

Y/N crossed her arms, frustration simmering beneath her composed exterior. Tyler knew she was good at her job—Javi wouldn’t have brought her on if she wasn’t—but that didn’t mean he had to like her stepping on his turf.

“I’ll be here when you realize you’re wrong,” Y/N muttered under her breath.

Tyler pretended not to hear, though her words festered in the back of his mind.

||

The next few days followed the same pattern. Y/N and Tyler clashed over nearly every decision—where to set up, what direction to head, even which equipment to use. The rest of the team, Boone, Javi, Kate, Lilly, Dani, and Dexter, watched their arguments like spectators at a tennis match, unsure of how to intervene.

“Maybe you should cut her some slack,” Boone suggested one evening after a particularly heated argument.

Tyler grumbled something incoherent and shook his head. Y/N was too smart, too stubborn, and way too sure of herself for his liking.

Later that night, while the others were fast asleep in the small roadside motel they were staying at, Tyler found himself unable to sleep. His mind was still buzzing from the day's chase, from the constant butting of heads with Y/N. He slipped out of his room and headed to the small, makeshift lounge area by the vending machines. To his surprise, Y/N was already there, sitting in one of the chairs with her nose buried in a weather report.

He hesitated, then finally walked over and sat down across from her. They sat in silence for a few minutes, the only sound being the low hum of the soda machine.

Finally, Tyler broke the silence. “Where’d you go to school?”

Y/N glanced up from her report, raising an eyebrow. “What?”

“I asked where you went to school,” he repeated, a little softer this time. “I’m just curious.”

She closed her report and leaned back in her chair. “University of Kansas.”

“Really? That’s a good program.” Tyler couldn’t help but be impressed, though he kept his tone neutral.

Y/N shrugged. “It’s close to home. My dad’s still there, and since my mom died a few years ago, I didn’t want to leave him alone for too long.”

The admission caught Tyler off guard. He hadn’t expected her to open up like that.

“He’s the one who made me want to be a meteorologist,” she continued, a small smile tugging at her lips. “When storm season would roll around, he’d stay calm. No matter how bad it got, he’d explain what was happening so I wouldn’t be scared.”

Tyler was quiet for a moment, processing her words. “That’s…that’s pretty cool.”

Y/N looked at him, her eyes softer now. “Why did you start your YouTube channel? Seems like an unusual hobby.”

Tyler rubbed the back of his neck, unsure of how to explain. “I started it because if it helps even one person know what signs to look for, where to take shelter, and it saves lives…that’s the goal. Storms are dangerous, but the more people understand them, the better their chances.”

Y/N nodded, and for the first time, Tyler saw something other than frustration in her eyes. They had more in common than he realized. “I was a bull rider before this.” He spoke. Not sure why that was the first thing that came to his mind.

“Really?” She questioned. “Yeah, I was pretty good for a while. But too many bulls to the head, I wanted to get out before I became a vegetable. When deciding what to do next, I remembered how I felt during my first tornado. I knew I was supposed to be scared, my aunt was freaking out in the driver’s seat. But I couldn’t help but feel excited by it. Remembering that feeling helped me decide to go back to school.” Tyler explained.

“I guess you’re not all bad, Owens.” Y/N teased. “You’re not so bad either, Y/N.” Tyler replied, a small smirk on his face.

||

Tyler thought that after their late-night conversation, things might start to smooth out between them. But when they were out in the field the next day, the old tension returned.

Y/N was insisting they head west, while Tyler was adamant that they stick to the eastern route.

“You’re not thinking clearly!” Y/N snapped, pulling out her map and pointing to the storm's trajectory. “The data shows the storm shifting westward. If we don’t move now, we’re going to miss the funnel!”

Tyler’s frustration boiled over. “I’m the leader of this team, Y/N. My decision stands. Your opinion doesn’t matter.”

The words were out before he could stop them, and the effect was immediate. Y/N’s face fell, all the confidence and fire draining from her. Her lips pressed together, but she didn’t say anything. Just nodded and turned away.

As she walked back to the van, guilt gnawed at Tyler. He knew what he said had hurt her more than he intended. He knew the sting of being dismissed in a profession dominated by men, and he’d just done exactly that to her.

||

The storm that day was worse than any of them had expected. The winds picked up suddenly, driving rain slashing sideways across the open plains. They had barely made it into a small town when the tornado sirens began wailing.

“Get to the storm shelter!” Tyler shouted to the team over the howling wind.

Y/N was running beside him when something caught her eye. She stopped dead in her tracks, looking toward the edge of the street where a young golden retriever, still basically a puppy, was tied to a telephone pole barking frantically.

“Y/N, come on!” Tyler yelled, but she shook her head.

“I can’t leave him,” she shouted back, running toward the dog.

Tyler cursed under his breath and sprinted after her. “Y/N, you can’t—”

“I have to save him!” she interrupted, fumbling with the leash as the wind whipped around her, making it nearly impossible to untie the knots.

For a terrifying moment, Tyler thought they were both going to get swept away by the storm. Without thinking, he grabbed her hands and pulled them away from the leash, then used his pocket knife to cut it.

“Let’s go!” he urged, pulling her to her feet.

She scooped up the dog, and they ran together toward the storm shelter, barely making it inside before the worst of the storm hit.

Y/N collapsed against the wall, clutching the trembling dog in her arms. “Thanks,” she panted, a breathy laugh escaping her lips.

“Don’t ever do that again,” Tyler said, though his heart was still racing from fear, not anger.

She just smiled weakly in response.

||

When the storm passed, Y/N was outside, kneeling beside the dog and handing out food and water to the town’s residents who had been affected. Tyler watched her from a distance, unable to shake the fear he’d felt when he thought she wasn’t going to make it.

He walked over to her, his voice softer than usual. “That dog’s not going to let you out of his sight now.”

Y/N smiled, ruffling the dog’s fur. “He’s our new team mascot.”

Tyler crouched down beside her, his tone serious. “I was scared. I thought you weren’t going to make it. And it made me realize…I’ve been awful to you because I liked you. I was scared of how I felt.”

Y/N blinked in surprise, her cheeks flushing slightly. “You liked me?”

“Yeah,” Tyler admitted. “And I think…I think I still do.”

Y/N smiled, her voice soft. “Well it’s a good thing that I have feelings for you too, Tyler.” Tyler let out a light laugh before leaning in ever so slightly

Just as they were about to kiss, Boone appeared out of nowhere, grinning like a fool. “So, what’s the plan, lovebirds? Heading back on the road or what?”

Tyler groaned, but Y/N just laughed, the tension between them finally gone, like the storm that had just passed.

[animelovelover123]

I was thinking a Yandere Reboot Dante who's obsessed with bartender reader! She works at a strip club he visits. They've become friendly with each other, but she rejects his advances. He tries to make her jealous, but it doesn't work. To which he kidnaps her and takes her back to his place/van to which the non con pursues.

I know his van was canonically destroyed, but the scene where his van was shaking from having sex, made me feral!! Thanks for letting me send this! Let me know if this is too long, I will shorten the idea! 🥹😈

What a devilishly dirty idea (　・`ω・´). Here you go; I hope I didn't destroy it by condensing it so much. Also, I should warn you that my editor is not comfortable with some things, including non-con, and I respect their feelings so this story was not beta read. I'm sorry in advance for the mistakes.

Yandere Reboot Dante X Reader - Incorrigible For Devil's Dalliance’s Angel

Disclaimer: This fictional story contains mature subject matter that is written with the intent to be appealing and/or arousing. If you are reading this, please understand that drawing/writing/reading/imagining things of this nature does NOT equate to desiring or supporting real-world assault. Here is a link to multiple articles and studies on sexual taboos in fantasy, what role it plays, and what effect it has on people.

Trigger Warnings: rape, stalking, kidnapping, degrading comments towards others (not reader), somnophilia, bound wrists

Yet again, for the 4th night in a row, Dante found himself at Devil's Dalliance. He would have been there every night, but you only work 5 days a week. He didn’t bother with the dancefloor where the strippers were twirling around poles. He took an immediate left turn to get to the bar along the left wall where you were.

“Hey angel!” He called out to you, using that nickname since the strippers that worked here were dressed as them, but you were the only one worthy of the actual title. He went to sit down but before his ass hit the stool his usual order came sliding across the bar. He caught it with ease, then looked over at you as you gave him a smile and a hand motion before turning to deal with someone else.

God damn, you were perfect. You knew him so well. And you had that sexy smile and how you swayed your hips as you moved contrasting the cheap wings that were part of your work uniform made you look cute, innocent, and corruptible. If only you would come closer. You two got along well and have spent collective hours in the past chatting between customers. Today, though, it was busy with chicks with far too much confidence considering how much makeup and injections they have to have to make them look decent and sleezy douchebags already shitfaced and shooting their shots with anything with tits. Fuck'em. Fuck them all. They were wasting your time, time that should be spent with Dante. Yet they had you rushing around as they barked orders at you and caused problems. It was enough to make Dante slam his glass down onto the counter after chugging it in frustration.

When he did, another glass came sliding into his view. He looked up and there you were again, giving him that smile and showing him that you were still paying some attention to him. Jesus Christ, he wanted to bend you over the fucking bar.

But there you go, not saying a word to him, just going back to work like you didn’t feel the connection between you, like you weren’t as desperate for his attention as he was for yours. Sure, you had rejected him when he had offered to take you to his place every other night, but that was different. You were just tired, thought he was joking, and didn’t know what he could do yet. You didn’t know how he could rail you so hard you wouldn’t be able to walk the next morning. How he could go for hours, leaving you a blithering mess as he licks up his cum spilling out of your pussy while the sun rises. How he can make your body learn that no other cock or dildo can satisfy you. You needed a showcase, a demonstration of what he can do and something to light a fire under that pretty ass of yours, revealing how you can’t stand to see him with some other chick.

And so, Dante grabbed his drink and made his way to the dance floor.

“Dante, hey!”

Well that didn’t take long. He was barely on the flashing floor before some bimbo ran up to wrap her arms around one of his.

“Hey babe, how’ve you been doing?” He asked, assuming by her greeting that they knew each other. Maybe he has fucked her before, he wouldn’t remember and definitely wouldn’t care to. Right now though, they could help each other.

“It’s been lonely working all week without being able to see you.” The way she squeezed her boobs against his arms and looked up at him through those fake ass lashes made it clear that she wanted some action, and he wanted to show off his moves, so they would both get something out of this.

“Well now you’ve got my attention, so enjoy it.” Dante flashed that grin that made girls weak in the knees, and it had the same effect. “Come on babe, follow me.” He gave her a wink and wrapped an arm around her waist to lead her back towards the bar where you worked. There was a small chunk of wall beside where people can get behind the bar, that would be good enough.

In one swift, fluid movement, Dante pushed the woman up against the wall. She let out a squeak in shock but couldn’t say anything as he slammed his lips into hers. She moaned, squirmed, and opened her mouth for him. Perfect, he already had her falling apart for him. Were you watching? Did you see what could be yours?

But you weren’t, you were talking to some fat fuck while making his drink. Out of frustration, Dante placed his drink on the counter beside them and purposely pushed it off. The shattering sound made everyone but Dante jump in shock. Even the chick he had pinned to the wall let out a scream and pulled back. She tried to move away, but Dante wouldn’t let her, keeping her pinned there so you could see. Finally, you looked his way, and here you come! You can see, right? How he got this girl wet just from making out a bit? You want this, right?

You came over, grabbed a broom nearby, swept up the glass, offered another smile, then just walked away!?

“Fuck.” Dante snarled as he stepped back.

“Wait, Dante,” The woman said as she tried to follow, but Dante smacked her hand away.

“Not in the mood, fuck off.” Dante could hear the woman calling him and eventually cursing but he did not give a shit. He was pissed off beyond belief. How could you not care, not even blink an eye? Fuck, he wanted to hit something.

Before he could find a dumbass to be his stress ball, he noticed you leaving the bar. Like a predator stalking prey, Dante followed you with his eyes until you disappeared into the back rooms of the club. Seeing you disappear from sight made his anger worse. How dare you just leave. How dare you leave his side.

“Not anymore.” Dante stormed after you, following fleeting glimpses of you further into the building and up some stairs until finally you reached your destination. It looked like some break room, with a couch and fridge and microwave, basic shit that barely registered in Dante’s mind. His eyes, his thoughts, his heart was focused on you. How you turned to greet whoever joined you in the break room, how you froze when you realized it wasn’t a co-worker, that confused smile at recognizing him but knowing that he shouldn’t be there, and how it fell away as he stalked closer.

The sound of the music blared through the building and spilled out into the streets, making it so that no one heard the sound of a struggle in the breakroom. The sound of screaming, furniture being toppled, then silence. And with how drunk, and for some also high, they were, no one even noticed the young man jumping from the second story of the club and over roofs with an unconscious woman over his shoulder.

×+×+×+×+×+×+×+×+×

Dante laid you down on his creaky, dirty bed, one that was not visually worthy of you, even with the trickles of blood dried on your head and face that blended in with his red pillowcases and sheets. That made it all the hotter. Seeing you lying there, seemingly sleeping peacefully with that perfect face and body, white wings popping out from behind your back, while surrounded by his filth. The two things were juxtaposed, and he wanted to keep it like that. He was scum, dirty, maybe not even human. But you, in comparison, were pure. Despite where you worked you weren’t some cheeks slut, you held your head high, stood your ground, and kept your tongue sharp. Yet you were still kind to him, treated him like a person, not a problem or something to fuck. You were…

“My angel,�� Dante whispered as he crawled over you on the bed. He leaned down, bringing your lips close enough to just barely touch and ran his hands up your sides. He held there for a moment, taking in the sensations. Your warmth, your heartbeat, your breath, before finally capturing your lips, and something in him broke. After you had been rejecting him for weeks, now he had you; you were here, and he could give you everything. He could take everything.

The sound of his belt unclasping seemed to ring through the trailer despite his heavy breaths and his hips grinding down into you, making the bed creak. He couldn’t tear his lips away from your skin so fumbled a bit with his hands when he lifted your arms and, using his belt, bound your wrists to the clasped hands of the heavy as hell metal and neon light encircled angel statue behind his bed. A fitting shackle in his mind. Gagging you popped into his head for only a second, but he pushed it aside. It was late at night and everyone who knew him would be used to screams of ecstasy coming from his trailer late into the night. Plus, he NEEDED to be able to kiss you.

×+×+×+×+×+×+×+×+×

When your consciousness came back to you, the first things you are aware of are the soreness in your jaw, a salty taste in your mouth, and the feeling of something opening up your folds, subjecting that hot skin to the cool night air. And when something warm and wet slid between them, your body instinctively reacted.

Dante’s heart jumped and a spike of arousal hit him when you finally properly reacted to his touch. He lifts his head from your crotch, the taste of your pussy still fresh on his tongue.

“You’re awake.” Dante crawled back up the bed to hover over you, though one hand stayed low to cup your sex, sliding his fingers between your lower lips to gather slick. Before you could speak, he slammed his lips against yours, his tongue ravaging your mouth, tasting the mix of you and the residuals of his essence. He could feel you squirm, but it was no use. You couldn’t escape your bindings or him. And besides, he wanted you to squirm a bit. It made your body rub against his, your tits jiggle freely since he had removed your top and bra to suck on them, and your heart beat faster. It made you feel alive. When Dante finally pulled back, his lungs dragging air in slowly like he was drowning as he looked down at you, his eyes dark with lust and something inhuman. “You made me wait a while, angel, but I suppose that's my fault. Either way, now that you're awake, I don’t need to hold back anymore.” The two fingers he was using to spread the slick around your folds were suddenly impaled you, burrowing themselves in your core. “I wanted to make sure you were awake when I finally fuck you.”

『♡』•『♡』•『♡』•『♡』•『♡』•『♡』•『♡』•『♡』•『♡』•『♡』

This was a bit hard for me because the one thing that takes me out of reader stories the most is when the author decides what I say and what I do, so I try to avoid it. That was hard with this but I did my best. ^^;

[its-a-okay18]

It had just turned 3am as you sat on the floor next to your bookshelf, you had been so absorbed in your new book all day you had pretty much neglected your poor boyfriend. Just before you flipped the next page you decided to steal a glance, San was laying on his stomach, wrapped up in your sheets wearing the jumper you had stolen the week prior, he complained endlessly for it back before he slept because “it smells like you” and he knew the chances of you coming to bed at a reasonable hour were long gone when he watched your face shift at every new line in your book.

His hair was at all crazy angles and one of his legs was hanging off the side of the bed as he let out soft snores. He had been tossing and turning all night causing you to let out little sighs. Putting your book down you made your way to his side and ran your fingers through his hair before resting it on his cheek and giving him a gentle kiss on the forehead. As you got up and turned around you felt his hand grab at your shirt pulling you back gently.

“Where are you going?” He mumbled into the pillow.

“I have to finish this book.”

He let out a loud groan and sighed heavily.

“Can you please pay attention to me for a little?”He looked up at you, his eyes almost seemed to be pleading you. “I can’t sleep properly without you. Just let me hold you. Come on, you can bring your book just come lay with me, please.”

“Okay, okay.” You giggled, you could never really ever say no to him even if you wanted to.

Slipping under the covers you were engulfed with the warmth he radiated, right here was where everything felt better and everything felt safe and he prided himself in that more than he wanted to admit. He grabbed his pillow and propped it up further so he was resting more on the headboard. You snuggled up next to him, laying your head on his chest and picked up straight where you left off. San ran his fingers up and down your spine ever so delicately as he littered the top of your head in soft kisses.

“It’s a really good job you’re cute because you are super distracting.” You said as you angled your head up to see him smirking down at you.

“Sorry, okay i’ll stop, I just can’t help myself, you look so beautiful when you’re lost in your own little world with these stupid things.” He taunted as he flicked the page of your book.

“They are not stupid, now be quiet.” Giving him a little smack on the chest you refocused yourself. The soft rise and fall of his chest soothing you making you melt back into his side.

“Read to me a little.” San interrupted, resting his hands behind his head and shutting his eyes.

“Okay fine.” You cleared your throat for dramatic effect and began to read aloud. “The day broke grey and dull. The clouds hung heavily, and there was a rawness in the air that suggested snow.”

Just as you opened your mouth ready to move to the next line San grabbed your book and gently threw it on the floor.

“I literally just started San!” you protested sitting up quickly.

“Baby, I promise I am much more interesting than whatever comes next.”

He slowly cupped your cheek and brought your lips to his, kissing you deeply and lazily.

“Hmm, maybe you are a little bit more interesting than the book after all.” You breathed as you both disconnected.

“I never do break my promises. I love you, I love you so much you actually drive me insane.” His eyes were glistening with tears that were threatening to spill as he held his forehead to yours.

“I love you too stupid.”

For the rest of the night San held you in his arms, your back pressed up to his chest as you he trailed kisses along your shoulder. It was clear the boy was feeling insecure and was in need of all of your attention, you knew he had the habit of being easily upset if you weren’t focused on him at times.

“You know you mean the world to me San" You whispered into the dark. However, he was totally consumed by you, your body against his had completely lulled him to sleep, you were right where you needed to be and that was the most soothing thing for him. You gently scooped up his hand and intertwined your fingers with his, bringing it to your lips to leave a gentle kiss on his knuckles and wrapping his arm around you tighter. This was home.