#i try so hard to be kind in life but i literally don't care enough about this PLUS you came after my friends. ugly and unnecessary

[enderlovez]

On Thin Ice

Spencer Reid x Chubby Reader WORD COUNT: 1300+

Summary: After a particularly grueling case, the weight of your insecurities catches up with you. Despite years of toughening yourself against judgment, an unexpected moment of self-doubt has you questioning everything—until Spencer reminds you of your worth.

Content Warning: body image issues, insecurity and self doubt, emotional vulnerability, mentions of childhood bullying, Spencer is a sweetheart, metaphors about falling through ice

────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ──────

You've always been the fat kid.

The one picked last for teams in gym class. The one who endured sidelong glances at lunch when you grabbed a second slice of pizza, even though everyone else was already on their third. The one people were dared to ask out during games of truth or dare.

The one whose confidence had to be built like a fortress over the years of relentless judgement, brick by painstaking brick. You'd grown used to the torment over the years—or so you thought.

The things you've seen in this job are enough to shatter most people—dead bodies and grieving familiar and the kind of darkness that crawls under your skin and refuses to leave.

You've stood on the edge of danger more times than you care to count, facing down killers without so much as flinching, literally been stabbed and shot. None of it breaks you. But tonight, staring at your reflection in the BAU bathroom mirror, you feel like you're crumbling.

Your blouse, which you'd liked when you put it on this morning, now feels all wrong. The fabric stretches across your chest and stomach in ways that make your skin crawl.

It fits—technically—but your brain won't let you believe it. The logical part of you knows it's fine—it fits and it looks good, no one cares. But the voice in your head, the one you've spent years trying to quiet, whispers, Isn't it a little snug?

You press your palms flat against the sink, trying to steady your breathing. Why does this matter? you ask yourself. Why do I care?

You see the worst humanity has to offer every day. You quite literally deal with life and death and unimaginable grief. Your body—how it looks, how it fits into societal expectations—should be the least of your concerns.

And yet, here you are.

Maybe part of the reason everything feels to terrible tonight is because of him—Spencer. He's been talking to you heaps more lately, and though it really should make you feel better, it only deepens whatever this insecure feeling inside you is.

The way he moves, the way he talks, the way his beautiful mind works—everything about him fascinates you, and you've been harboring this ridiculous, all-consuming crush for months.

But no matter how much you try to push it down, it always creeps back in, and with it comes the certainty that you're not his type. How could you be? He's brilliant and kind and effortlessly charming in his own unique way, and you're... you. Soft in all the undesirable places, sometimes a little too loud for even yourself.

It's not that you don't think you're worth something, but when you're next to him, it's hard not to feel like you fade into the background. And you've been next to him a lot more than usual.

The mirror reflects your frown back at you, the tightness in your chest growing until it feels like you might snap. You splash cold water on your face, hoping the shock will pull you out of your spiral.

It doesn't, but you can pretend it does.

The bullpen is quiet when you step back into it, the hum of computers and the rustle of papers the only sounds. Most of the team has gone home for the night, except for Spencer.

You find him in the kitchenette, his tall frame bent awkwardly as he wrestles with the ancient coffee maker.

He glances up as you walk in, his expression softening when he sees you. "Couldn't sleep?"

Right—you were going to nap somewhere before getting back to work before you detoured to the bathroom.

You shrug, leaning against the counter. "Something like that."

Spencer nods, his focus shifting back to the coffee pot. "I think this machine predates the invention of modern technology," he mutters, earning a faint smile from you. He pours two mugs of coffee and hands one to you, his finger brushing your briefly.

"Thanks," you say, your voice quieter than you intended.

For a while, the two of you drink in silence, no words shared. None are needed. It's comforting, standing next to him in the soft glow of the kitchenette light. For a moment, you almost almost feel normal in your own skin. Like everyone else.

Except Spencer has always been too perceptive (especially when it comes to you, but you don't need to know that), and you can feel his gaze periodically flicking toward you, studying your face.

"You know," he says eventually, "it's okay to feel overwhelmed. You don't have to hold it together all the time, not when you're... in this particular profession."

The comment catches you off guard, and you look at him sharply. His expression is calm, his tone heartbreakingly gentle, but the words hit a nerve. You force a laugh, trying to deflect. "I'm fine, Spencer. Just tired is all."

He doesn't buy it. Of course, he doesn't. This is Spencer Reid, profiler extraordinaire, the man who can read you like an open book even when you think you're being subtle.

"Are you?" he asks, tilting his head slightly. His voice is soft, but there's an unfamiliar firmness to it that makes you pause.

You want to brush him off, to keep the walls you've built around yourself firmly in place. But the words slip out before you can stop them—apparently your subconscious is desperate to get it out.

"I don't know," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. "It's just that sometimes I feel like... I don't know, like I don't belong here. Like I'm walking on thin ice, and any second it's going to crack, and I'm going to fall through."

Spencer's brows knit together, and he sets his mug down on the counter. "Why would you feel like that?"

You hesitate, the familiar shame and embarrassment bubbling up in your chest. "Because I've always been the... the fat one, okay? The one people look at and judge before they even know my name. I should be used to it by now. I am used to it, but sometimes..."

You trail off, swallowing hard.

"Sometimes it just gets to me, and I hate that it does, because it's so stupid. There are so many bigger things to worry about than how I look. People are actually dying out there, and I'm sitting here worried about my stupid blouse being too tight..."

Spencer step closer, his expression unreadable. For a moment, you wonder if you've said too much, if he thinks you're being ridiculous. But then he speaks, and his voice is steady, full of quiet conviction.

"It's not stupid. What you're feeling is valid," he says. "And you're not 'the fat one.' You're you—intelligent and compassionate and one of the strongest people I've ever met. The way you connect with people and make them feel seen, even in the darkest moments of their life—that's not something everyone can do. That's you."

The words hit you like a wave, the sincerity in his tone making your throat tighten. You look down at your coffee, unable to meet his eyes.

"You don't have to say that just to make me feel better," you mumble.

"I'm not just saying it to make you feel better," he replies. "I mean it."

He hesitates for a moment before reaching out, his hand hovering near yours. When you don't pull away—you don't think you could ever make yourself pull away from Spencer—he rests it gently on top of yours. The warmth of his touch is grounding, and for the first time all night, you feel like you can breathe again.

"Thin ice can hold more weight than you think," he says quietly. "And even if it does crack, you won't fall. I'll make sure of it."

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, and you think them away quickly. "Thank you, Spencer," you say, your voice thick with emotion.

"Anytime." He smiles, the kind of smile that feels like sunlight breaking through the clouds. "And for the record, I think you're beautiful."

Your heart does a little flip, your face warming. Maybe one day you can tell him how you feel, how desperately in love you are with him.

Baby steps.

[dakotac0le]

holding your hand so gently. listen to me. this character could be so so much if u just think abt her for two seconds and then have fun with it.

All the canon text we are given about Katori Blake's personality is that she was a leader and athletic and a lot like Dakota . WHICH IS VERY INTERESTING TO ME because looking at her parents there so obviously not !! that !! they have an all white living room and her mom looks like kat but wears a high bun and pearls . theyre like the type of people to buy out a modern art gallery beacuse they can and it makes them look rich and fancy w out giving a fuck about the art.  and we don't know much about how they were as parents and obviously they care a lot about katori . but they also didn't care enough or were  too busy or out of the house enough that she could sneak out and go run around on rooftops .  To me , I see her as someone who felt very ignored by her parents. and she didn't have friends with anyone at her school. She was very very quiet growing up , very polite , but not exactly friendly. She didn't know how to keep a conversation going or connect with people easily - she was never taught how to do those things by her parents who don't really know  either. and she's also struggling because her body doesn't feel like her body in a way no one around her is able to explain so she just kinda. shoves that down. so she felt very alone and weird and ignored by the people at her school and her parents.  and this continued to a point where she started to sneak out and not do her homework  - at first to get any attention she could from her parents. and when that failed. when they just got quietly and tiredly angry at her (not shouting or screaming  - just grounding her and locking her in her room and giving her the silent treatment or stonewalling her) -  just to get out of the house.  

and then she met dakota damascus- this other neglected kid who's just a bit younger than her and a lot smaller than her. this kid who also needed to be anywhere else but his apartment.  

all she needed was someone to acknowledge her existence.  and all he needed was someone to talk to . and he's so incredibly kind to her. He's very loud and energetic in a way no one should be at 3am. like he has years of pent up conversations he's been waiting to have with literally anyone. and he is always hungry and thirsty and cold and he breathes a little ragged. so she brings him all the food she can steal from her pantries - or she takes her moms cash and they go get food together. and very slowly she starts to return that energy back to him . it's sort of contagious and impossible not to bounce off of and be endeared too. her grades start getting even worse and she has permanent eyebags and is always exhausted and  always feels a little bit like she's slipping. but she also has a friend !! and she knows who she is for the first time in a really long time.  

and dakota is always going on about  how cool and awesome the fucking heros were so she showed him how to climb from roof to roof and how to balance and how to jump and brace yourself if you fall.  and for her heros were never important or really impacted her life - she doesn't care about them and has never had any reason too. but she likes how passionately Dakota cares about being there for people. and she likes hearing him talk about all his dreams and goals. But it's also concerning because Dakota does not have innate powers  and he's reckless (like reallly reckless). and  Kat has no idea how to teach him to be a superhero like she knows how to teach him to scale a building. but she cant and wont try to dissuade him either. She gets what he feels this way. It's just hard and complicated because selfishly - she wants to protect him and help him like he helped her come into herself.  and the only way she can think to fix that is if she tries to be a hero too.  

i think about kaotri way more than i should for the amount of screentime she had (0 minutes)

[aph-estonia]

every time i think about being near other people i actually do throw up in my mouth a lil. many such cases! very sad to see...

[oikasugayama]

YOU TELL HIM THAT YOU'RE H0RN¥

PREMISE: You're just friends, but you wanna test the boundaries. How does he react when you tell him that you're horny?

INCLUDES: Akutagawa, Dazai, Nikolai, Poe, Atsushi, Ranpo

No smut, heavy on dialogue. These are goofy!! One part only.

Akutagawa

That gif is the horny taking over his body.

"Akutagawa."

"Hm?"

"I'm horny."

He looks up at you, face somewhere between horror-stricken and confused.

"Why would you say such a thing to me?"

"Obviously because I want you to do something about it."

"What?"

"I said--"

"--No, no, I heard you the first time."

"So?"

"So what?"

"Sooo, do you want to have sex, orrr?"

Akutagawa stares blankly at something nearby for a solid minute, completely silent, and then stands up abruptly.

"Yes. Let's go to a love hotel."

Dazai

"Dazaaaaai. I'm horny," you whine, an over-exaggerated pout on your face.

"Ohh? Shall I help you take care of that?" He purrs, exaggeratedly flirting. "I'll treat you reaaaal nice." He winks, ready for you to say something like "ew no, freak" and laugh it off like usual. Except...

"God, yes. I was gonna ask."

"Huh?" He short-circuits. He pauses, trying to figure out if you're fucking with him or not. Usually you'd start laughing after two or three seconds, but you're standing up and walking toward him--

"Holy shit. Oh my god, you're serious?!" He jumps up from his chair, eyes lighting up, and horny stirring in his pants. "If you're joking you have to tell me right now."

"Why don't you come with me to the broom closet and see if I'm joking?"

"This is the greatest day of my life," he says as you pull him along.

Nikolai

"I'm really horny, so you're gonna have to stop looking so hot or I'm gonna have to leave."

The grin he already wore spread wider across his face.

"Is that so?"

He summons and portal and in the blink of an eye is crowding you in your space, laying a hand on your thigh, breathing on your neck.

"What's doing it for you, dovey? Is it the beautiful, luscious hair? My devilishly handsome smile?"

"It's those fucking thunder thighs in the striped pants is what it is," you huff, trying to push him back, but he takes your hands and moves your arms to be around his shoulders.

"I can keep them on while I fuck you," he says lowly into your ear. "Would you like that?"

You pull him against you.

"Put your money where your mouth is, Nikolai."

Poe

"Poe, I'm having a really nice time hanging out with you and all, but I have to be honest: I'm really horny, so I probably need to go home before I start trying to fuck you."

He is so flustered that he can't even form a sentence. What you can see of his face is beet red, and he scrambles for the door. You think he's going to open it and usher you out, but he presses his back against it, blocking your exit.

"No," he finally says, "Don't leave."

"Poe, you're in the danger zone. If I don't relieve some tension I'm gonna get really grouchy."

"I can help," he stutters out.

"Huh?"

He starts trying to apologize, but you laugh and cross the room to him.

"I didn't expect you to be into it," you admit. "I definitely said it to get your attention, but I thought you'd say no."

"Then I have not made my feelings known enough."

Atsushi

"Can I ask you a stupid question?"

"Sure!" Atsushi responds enthusiastically. Your head is laying in his lap and you're staring blankly at the ceiling.

"Do you ever get horny when you hang out with your friends?"

"Uhh, I don't think that's something that happens with your friends," he says, and you turn to look up at him.

"It doesn't? Like, you've never gotten horny while spending time with me?"

"Uhh..." His face slowly starts turning red.

"I've gotten horny hanging out with you. I'm kind of horny right now, honestly."

"UMMMMM..........."

"So you're saying that right now my face being near your dick isn't turning you on?"

"I wouldn't say that..."

"I sure hope you wouldn't because I think I can literally feel you getting hard against my skull. Do you wanna stop talking and start making out now?"

Ranpo

"I'm horny."

"I know."

"What? How do you know?"

"You keep squirming in your seat, you're trying to arch your back when you lean your elbow on the table, and you keep biting your lip when you think I'm not looking at you."

"But you must be looking at me because you noticed all of that. But I haven't seen your eyes on me."

"I'm watching you from the corner of my eye like I usually do."

"Oh? And why would you be watching me, Ranpo?"

"Because I like to?" he says like it's obvious.

"Do you have a little crush on me, Ranpo?"

"Wouldn't you like to know. If only you have my super deduction you'd know."

"I don't think I need super deduction to know. I think I can figure it out in one question."

"Oh? Try me."

"When are you going to fuck me?"

He tries to bite back a smile but he can't. He finally looks directly at you, and it tells you everything you need to know.

"Your place or mine?"

[inkskinned]

it's just that there's a few more steps you have to take that other people don't have to take, but they don't see the steps, so they think you should be able to hop from moment to moment, a chickadee.

it isn't getting out of bed. it is the weight, the hook in your chest, the anchor. you have to move the anchor first. you have to silence your alarm, but your phone is in your hand, which means now you have to put the phone down, which is too-hard. you get stuck in there for a while, the white screen, mindlessly scrolling. you don't even like this activity, have tried a few other options but - here you are, and time is passing.

you've googled iron deficiency causes depression and if i drink enough water does it help with mental illness and anxiety but no caffiene within the last two weeks, like how you googled am i gay quiz at 17.

it isn't just calling the doctor back, it's the anxiety, it's these little moths in your lung cavities, furious and fluttering. you need to figure out how to capture your fingers from between their nervous bodies. you are an adult, you can say the words yes hi, i'm calling because i need - but you need to practice first. maybe write it down because what if you misspeak, wouldn't that be embarrassing. write it down, but you need to find a pen first. well, actually, your desk is kind of messy. you should get a new pen. you should get a new organizational system. you should try journaling.

your grades in school were always strange. the way teachers would say things like it feels like you're not trying. you could touch stars in the stuff you cared about. well, sometimes. god be willing. homework average zero. oops! your english teacher's wrinkled brow: i know you know this stuff. what the fuck are you doing?

it isn't the showering, it's the mirror before the shower and the soft horrible pull of your naked physique. you have to avoid eye contact completely or else it'll be 93 minutes later and you'll have picked at your skin until every little pore is bleeding. you have to stand up but standing is tiring and also you should have remembered to buy more soap but you never remember anything. maybe get out of the shower and while it's still running and you're still dripping wet, use your phone to take a note. make a note to get your groceries. let the shower run while you stand half-in half-out and get lost in your phone for a moment. come back out when the water runs cold and now you have to sprint to get ready.

your grandmother's frown. you're just being lazy. protestant work ethics in a house that isn't even protestant. she says she just learned different but she means learned better, doesn't she.

it's not that you can't send the email, it's that your hands have been hurting lately and the desk really is messy and also why the fuck would you even care about this thing? doesn't everyone else feel like they're drowning? hi brendon thanks so much for sending! will review and get back to you shortly. but now you're on the internet, close the tab with tumblr on it. go on, close it. feel the little soft vapor of boredom come up and over your eyeteeth and make everything overwhelming and itchy.

literally all you have to do is put on shoes to go outside. you're literally already dressed, that's the hard part of this whole thing. literally just put the shoes on. just... do it! do it! this shit is easy!

it's literally that easy. just stop taking all those stupid invisible steps. stop following your strange made-up rules. times like this, even you're positive you're faking. you just don't want to bother with the cleaning and the cooking and the being-an-adult.

but then - shouldn't you be able to put these stupid shoes on? nobody's even looking. go on kid. life is out there! just take the leap!

get moving.

[piggycyberwarrior]

Task Force 141 with a Reader that grew up in a ‚be an independent woman and never rely on a man‘-household >>>>>>

They immediately love you- such a pretty thing, always working hard, beautiful smile on your lips and so so kind.

They have enough money (a reward for putting their life on line) so why not spend it on you? Of course their wallet gets lighter when your gaze lingers on an absurdly priced jewelry. How can't they shower you with gifts, when you deserve this and so much more?

Buying you this, that- things you threaten to kill them over if they buy you a $2000 purse- because thats just so absurd- yeah you liked the design, but thats too much money for a piece of leather.

Their cash is yours now- even though you do not accept that fact. Green paper traded for clothes, accessoires, food, shoes, lingerie- oh how they love to buy you lingerie…

Always paying for your meals- snacks, getting pouty when you give them the glare while pressing your card onto the terminal, a tad faster than them- paying the food.

You were raised like this- to pay for your own things- standing up for yourself, never rely on men and that you don't need any gifts from them. They know that but oh boy- they do not care. In the end- they shower you with money because they love you, not because they want you too love them.

Soap and Gaz are the ones who do it the sly way.

Let me explain.

They shop with you- making you try on all different kids of clothes- because you just look so pretty in them :( ... how can you not say yes to their begs and pleads.

pretty pretty please with sugar on top..?

Seeing how your eyes light up in the mirrow- Soap and Gaz share a glance- an unspoken promise. (One slowly getting up- making his way through the endless option of clothes- softly talking to an employee, pointing at your happy form- and everything you seemed to like is bought in a matter of seconds.)

"Are you serious??" "Aw- do nae be like tha', bonnie" Soap laughed quietly- carrying the shopping bags with such a proud smile. "Yeah, we had to buy you them, you looked so good, sugar" Gaz said- pressing a soft kiss to your cheek before his warm hand on your lower back pushed you foward gently. "But-" you tried to reason, being shut up with a tut from the two men. "Just accept it, baby, yeah?"

You don't even argue when it comes to Simon. He just buys it- and when you try to obliege- one of his intimidating looks is enough and you fold. You tried outsmarting him by not going shopping with him but the gifts just stack to the ceiling in your home so you stopped that aswell..

So when you did go outside with him you had to literally threathen him "Simon, I am going to staple your large intestine to your nose if you even think about buying me that" you growled while looking at some mannequins while strolling through the city.

"but do you like it?"

yes "No, its ugly"

He doesn't buy it then and there but again- he has enough money so why not spend it on you? yada yada yada- in the end you have some strange bag that you do not recognize on your bed- with that ugly pretty dress you saw while walking with Ghost.

Stubborn man

The worst one in the group must be price tho- he never and I mean neverrr lets you pay for anything. The others gift you many things, but this man? When he is around you don't even have to bring your wallet with you of course you do because fuck them (...please)

You‘re struggling to pay rent? Paid. Wanting to relax? Spa Appointment booked. Feeling hungry? Meal's already on the way. Flat not that cozy? Lets go shopping decor, love.

This man can read you so good- its creepy. And he won't accept a 'no'"

He randomly transfers money onto your bank account- "Luv, I have enough" "John.. I cannot accept that! Thats too much"

-

Oh yes you can. They will make you accept it all...

Everything.

!please do reblog!

My mutuallsssss ✨🌷: @stargirlstabber @cricricorner @captain-of-caption @enfppuff @missroro @peachy-aisha @thelrina @gaiagurl05

[demon-country]

Man, no wonder Stolas got literal heart eyes after Blitz did this. This was his "Harriet! Don't get on that train!" moment, the big gesture he so desperately wanted just so he'd know that Blitz really did care about him enough to want him to stay. He had been so sure that that was going to be the last time he ever saw Blitz, that the last thing he ever did would be saving Blitz's life, and Blitz's response was to fight against the chains dragging him away just so he could run to Stolas with a desperate, heart-wrenching plea not to sacrifice himself.

Blitz had thought for sure that he'd never be able to give Stolas the kind of dramatic romcom moment Stolas longed for, but the joke's on him and us, because even though we all knew he would inevitably end up giving Stolas one and were eagerly awaiting it, no one expected it to be like that. And yet, the writers pulled through for us once again, because there really could not have been a more meaningful and moving way for him to have done so.

Anything where Blitz actually said something along the lines of "don't get on that train", could have been misconstrued by both Stolas and irl media illiterate viewers as Blitz just saying what Stolas wanted to hear without actually meaning it (assuming Stolas even remembers that conversation). But there was nothing contrived about this, there was no time for him to have possibly thought about any potential romcom moments at all; he just saw that he was about to lose Stolas for good and fought as hard and as frantically as he could, just to beg Stolas not to take the fall for him. To not love him so much that he'd think Blitz was worth protecting with his very life.

And I don't even think he realizes just how much that meant to Stolas, to know that the man he loves would fight for him with such fervor, despite knowing that it was a fruitless effort. Blitz, without knowing it and without even realizing just how much raw, earnest, desperate love he was displaying, gave Stolas exactly the kind of overt and undeniable proof that he was loved and wanted that he had always needed.

Except that, as Stolas has already found out, that's not enough. He made his big gesture to Blitz and Blitz made one to him, and that's a great start, but love's not just shown through grand gestures and they're not what'll help you pick up the pieces when your world falls apart.

The smaller, softer, quieter gestures of love are what Stolas will need most going forward, but for someone who has received as little love in his life as Stolas has, who has suffered from depression for ages, and who has just lost almost everything (including his antidepressants!), it might end up being hard for him to tell the difference between what is done out of love and what is done out of mere obligation to repay a debt. Not to worry, though, because he'll learn how to spot it soon enough.

He'll see that sometimes love is shown by taking care of someone when they don't have the strength to do it themselves

And by taking them by the hand and giving them a place to rest when it all becomes too much for them to bear

And by catching them when they fall, even when you're upset with each other

And by being so comforting that they feel safe falling asleep and leaving themselves vulnerable next to you without any hesitation.

Perhaps the greatest injustice the world has dealt to Blitz is by convincing him that he ruins lives, when the truth is that the person behind his walls has a way of loving people that is so incredibly healing. Simply by being his real, honest self, he manages to give the people he cares about the kind of love they need the most, without even trying. Without even noticing how much his words and actions have affected them for the better.

And now that those walls have started to drop, his loved ones have been able to start showing how much they love and want to support him as well. I have faith that once Stolas has cottoned on to the little ways Blitz has been showing him that he cares, that he'll start reciprocating those gestures. The man is such a romantic and in the song Just Look My Way he even says "I can give you everything you need" as well as "and no matter what in this world I could give, it's not enough"; there's no way he won't eventually try to provide for and take care of Blitz once he's well enough to. He just needs some time to heal, and until then Blitz will be there, giving him the love and care that he needs to keep his head above water.

Tl;dr: all the people who said that Blitz would never be able to give Stolas what he needs in a partner have just been proven dead wrong on all counts, and will continue to be proven so.

[dinogoofymutated]

NSFW! Nightcrawler/GN!Reader

This is purely self-indulgent smuttiness for Kurt, because sometimes cuteness aggression surfaces as really wanting to suck a man's dick. I know we haven't actually seen him in the 97' show yet, but I couldn't help myself. Think of this as a mixture between show Kurt and Comic Kurt. Or imagine any Kurt really.

Tw: MDNI!!!! Oral, slight cursing. Reader was pictured as AFAB while writing but no specific genitals or pronouns are mentioned.

Trying to relax in the X mansion was near impossible. There's always some event, some drama or loudness taking place. Living with gambit was hard enough with the explosions and shit, but after Jubilee moved in…

There was just no Peace in this house. Even though you wouldn't trade it for the world, there wasn't exactly any "me" time, If you catch my drift. It was ridiculously hard to find time for yourself, leaving you a bit more pent up than normal.

On top of that, there was almost always some sexual tension in the house. Rogue and gambit, Jean and Scott. Morph. Literally just Morph, and their innuendos. It was hard enough to see Rogue and Remy tip-toe around eachother, But Jean and Scott? You can't remember a time they weren't sneaking off together to get laid.

All this had left you ridiculous stiff. No free time, surrounded by the adult equivalent of horny teens, it was taking a toll on you. When Kurt came back to the mansion, you were over the moon to see him.

You loved your boyfriend so incredibly much, but never before had you been thinking such sinful thoughts about him. You'd steel glances of his toned arms when he'd hand you something. Glance at his ass when he walked by. Hell, just his smile and laugh would get you going.

He was just so cute. He's loving, and caring, and kind. You felt so lucky to be with him, but that didn't change the fact that you wanted to jump his bones, bad. You wanted to suck this man dry, and as embarrassed you are to admit it, you didn't hesitate to. The moment you finally had him in your bed, you knew you were going to give this man the best head of his life.

“You want to-?” Kurt’s breath hitches, the faint pupils in his yellow eyes dilating. His adam's apple bobbs as he looks away from your heated gaze and sets his eyes on your hands, idly stroking down his soft abdomen. You lean down to kiss him again, tenderly. He returns the kiss eagerly, his tail swaying back and forth on the bed. It takes a moment for you to be able to focus enough to get back on task.

“Please, Kurt.” You beg, breaking the kiss with him. He chases after your lips, and the action is so cute you can't help but kiss him again, and again. You kiss the corner of his mouth, before kissing the crook of his neck, and then his collarbone, dragging your teeth across the velvety blue skin. His soft moans are music to your ears as your hands drag lower, gently cupping the bulge that had started to grow. The air catches in his chest, but you don't tease him for long, moving your hands up and down his chest once again. His tail wraps around one of your wrists.

“Are you sure?” Kurt asks, one of his hands reaching up to brush the hair out of your face. You can help but lean into the touch with a sigh, mouth watering at the prospect of having him against your tongue. You smile at him, scoffing just lightly.

“Of course I am, silly.” The words come out breathlessly. “Why wouldn't I be?” You trail kisses lower, paying special attention to the curly hair of his happy trail as you softly run your fingers across his skin. Kurt swallows, letting out a quiet whine as you start to slide his sweatpants down to free his cock.

“ ‘Just… Don't want you to feel like you have to, Schatz- Hng..” He lets out a choaked groan as you start to press kisses along his inner thighs as you remove the pants completely. You giggle a little, aiming to make him moan just a little louder as you start to stroke and kiss along his length.

“Believe me, love, I wouldn't be begging for it if I did.” You respond. Kurt opens his mouth to speak again, only to cut himself off with a sharp “Ah!” as you take the head of his cock into your mouth and start to suck. The end of his tail twitches, still wrapped around your wrist, and he chuckles.

“That was a dirty trick,” He says, reaching down to move the hair out of your face. You hum in appreciation as his hand gathers your locks, holding the hair back so he can see you better. You reward him by taking more of him into your mouth, reveling in the noises you receive in return. His skin is smooth and soft, and you find yourself appreciating every inch of him you can fit in your mouth.

You're doing your very best to give him exactly the kind of head he deserves for being so sweet and loving and caring. You think about the chores he's done without asking since he's been back as you swirl your tongue around his tip. The book he brought you as a souvenir as you glide back down, nosing the dark blue patch of curls. God- he was just the most perfect man you had ever met, and you were determined to reward him for that.

“Scheisse- I… Liebe, I'm going to…ah!” Kurt begins to writhe underneath you, and it gives you the best satisfaction when you open your eyes to see his face contorted in the throes of pleasure. You savor the taste of his skin as he begins to twitch in your mouth. His grip tightens around your hair, he free hand opening and clenching as he scrambles for purchase on the bed. You take hold of it, lacing your hands together as best you can just in time for him to reach his peak.

You never really liked the taste or texture of cum, but for Kurt, You'd swallow every drop he gives you. You work him through his high as he squeezes your hand, moaning at the sensation. His moans turn to whines as he becomes sensitive, his tail unwinding Itself from your wrist. You can tell just by looking at it that it might bruise, but you wouldn't dare tell him that.

His grip loosens on your hair as you pull away from him. His yellow eyes are teary and his muscles are relaxed and boneless, but that doesn't stop him from sitting up a little and sliding his hand behind the nape of your neck to pull you in for a deep kiss. His kisses are loving and passionate, they leave you breathless when he pulls away. Kurt licks his lips as he takes you in, chest heaving. You can only imagine how you look with messy hair and swollen, spit stained lips, but there's nothing but adoration in his eyes.

“I love you.” He says, after a moment of silence. “I'm in love with you. You know this, Ja?” His other arm wraps around your waist, tugging you even closer to him. You can't wipe the smile off your face as you lean in, resting your forehead against his own, pressing a chaste kiss against his nose.

“I do. I promise.” You reply. Kurt grins, and you can briefly hear the sound of his tail swishing in a way you know means he's thinking about doing something mischievous, and the next thing you know, there's a *Bamf!* as you fall into where he was once sitting on the bed. You have the slightest moment of confusion before Kurt is behind you. He grabs hold of you, leaning back to make you fall backwards into him with your back against his bare chest. He presses kisses along your neck and maneuvers you into his lap. Your legs are hooked over his own, his knees widening the space between your thighs as his hands trail so close to where you want him to be.

“Please, let me return the favor, my love.”

[bigfootsboytoy]

Steve ends up heartbroken, lonely and depressed after season 2. Nancy called him bullshit, even after he ditched all his old friends for her. Billy Hargrove took his spot at the top of the food chain. He can have it, Steve doesn't really want it anymore. But Steve does want to find some sort of connection. Someone to have in his life who isn't an 11 year old kid he barely knows. He tries to go on a date one night, take a nice-seeming girl to a party. He wants to find connection, to kill the loneliness that's been building for months, but just as he's feeling kind of good about things, his date ditches him.

So. He decides to drink his feelings. He gets majorly fucked up, and ends up laying on the ground in the backyard, contemplating how much life seems to hate him.

Only to literally get tripped over by Eddie Munson, who was at this party selling pot and is very confused as to why Steve Harrington is alone on the ground with a bottle of vodka clenched in one hand.

Eddie ends up chatting a little with Steve, nothing substantial, but enough to know that Steve is very very drunk, and also very very sad.

He asks if Steve wants to go back to the party, and Steve staunchly refuses. He doesn't want to be around a bunch of annoyingly happy people.

He asks if Steve needs a ride home, and Steve just kind of shrugs. His parents just left for another trip, so home is kind of depressing right now too. But he doesn't exactly have any other friends he can stay with so. Home it'll have to be.

Only Eddie can *tell* he doesn't really want to go home, though he has no idea why Steve wouldn't want to return to his veritable mansion after a shitty night. The reason doesn't matter much. He offers to let Steve crash at his place. Steve can take the couch, or hell he can stay in Eddie's room if he doesn't mind sharing, that way he wouldn't risk being woken up when Wayne comes home that morning.

And well, Steve agrees. Can't think of any reason not too. Munson has been nice so far, he's got a good easy-going energy that Steve likes. Why not stay the night.

By the time they get to Eddie's, Steve is *slightly* more sober. Not much, but he's slurring his words a little less, and he can walk with only a little help.

Eddie grabs them each a little plate of leftovers, because he has no idea if Steve's eaten at all. It's quiet while they eat, Eddie doesn't push Steve to talk, and Steve isn't sure what to say. Eventually Eddie sets the plates aside and give Steve an easy grin.

"So, do you want the couch, or are you crashing with me?"

Steve thinks about it for a while. He hasn't shared a bed with a guy-friend since he was a kid, and he's heard rumors about Eddie, whispers in the hall about the way he looks at other guys. But...Steve can't really bring himself to care. He's tired, and he really doesn't want to be alone.

"I don't mind sharing."

Eddie sets them both up in his room, letting Steve choose which side of the bed he wants, and they both settle in. There's a respectable distance between the two of them, and Eddie says a quick goodnight to Steve, figures they won't talk and just go right to bed.

Except Steve isn't sober, and he really isn't in a good headspace, so he can't stop himself from blurting things out into the quiet of the dark room.

"Are you really gay?"

Eddie stiffens next to him, he can feel it, he can hear the way that the other boys breath cuts off and he seems to stop breathing all-together.

"It's okay if you are, I'm not going to be an asshole about it, I'm trying not to be that guy anymore. I guess I was just curious."

It's quiet for another beat before Eddie seems to loosen just a little. He starts breathing again at least.

"Yeah I uh- I am. Gay. And if that's weird the couch is still open, I can-"

"It's not weird."

"Okay."

Steve let's himself mull over this confirmation, and then his mouth starts moving again, without his permission.

"Is it lonely? Cause I mean, it's got to be hard to date in Hawkins. People here are shitty. Unless you've got like, a secret boyfriend or something."

"No...no secret boyfriend. It does get a little lonely sometimes. I'm lucky though, I've got my uncle, and my friends are pretty great. That's enough most days."

"What do you do when it's not enough?"

"Hmmm?"

"When your uncle and friends aren't enough, what do you do? To try and...make it better?"

Eddie is quiet again for a long stretch before he shrugs.

"I try to focus on something else. I'll play my guitar or work on a new campaign, read a book. Something to take my mind off it."

"Oh."

Now Steve is the one who seems tense, his jaw is tight and he's got his arms wrapped around himself. His next words come out as a whisper, but Eddie manages to catch them.

"I don't know how to do any of that."

He sounds almost choked, and Eddie is caught off guard. He's never seen Steve Harrington as anything other than solid, as happy. He's the king, after all. He's supposed to be all smiles and great hair. Only...Eddie's noticed that he hasn't hung out with his old friends lately, that he's eaten alone at lunch too many times to be anything other than strange.

"Steve...are you lonely?"

Eddie expects a denial, for Steve to laugh it off and tell Eddie that he's perfectly fine and fulfilled. Or maybe he expects a shrug, a non-answer. What he doesn't expect is the gut-wrenching sob that seems to tear past the other boys lips.

He doesn't expect to turn and see Steve Harrington's face, a scant foot from his, shining with tears.

He panics a little at the sight.

"Fuck- I'm so sorry-"

"Don't be." Steve tries to wipe his eyes, to hide the tremble in his voice. "Not your fault there's something wrong with me."

"What do you mean?"

"It's like I'm broken man, like nobody can stand to be around me. Tommy and Carol hate me now, Nancy- hell even my own parents hate being at home with me for more than a week. It's like I'm repellent or something. Couldn't even get a date to stick around for a whole night."

And Eddie's pretty sure *he* might start crying now. He'd never have expected this much from Steve, all that sadness to come pouring out. It wouldn't have happened if Steve was completely sober. Without thinking, he reaches out.

Eddie puts a hand on Steve's shoulder and waits to see if the touch gets rejected, but Steve seems to lean into him, so he lets his hand linger.

"This probably won't help, but I don't think you're repellent. And that's coming from somebody who your whole group used to torture. I don't know much about you, but I kind of liked having you around tonight."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Steve gives him a tiny smile. His eyes are still wet with tears, and the smile doesn't come close to reaching them. He seems impossibly small here in Eddie's bed.

"I don't know man. I just wish-"

He cuts himself off, apparently deciding his words are too far, but Eddie urges him to keep talking.

"What do you wish Steve?"

"I just wish that... there was somebody out there I could have a future with. Somebody who actually loved me, you know?"

It might be the saddest thing Eddie's ever heard, and he blames that fact for what he does next.

He takes his hand off Steve's shoulders and instead hauls Steve closer to him, fitting the other boy against his chest and wrapping his arms around him. It's a move that might get him decked, but he doesn't think it will. And he'll be damned if he doesn't hug Steve right that second.

He doesn't get hit. Steve tenses for a second, but it's just that one instant before he's melting into the embrace.

Eddie feels more tears falling against his shirt, and he couldn't care less. He keeps Steve close, let's him cry into his chest, runs a hand through that famous mop of hair.

He isn't sure how long it takes for Steve to calm down, but eventually he does. His breathing evens out, and he shivers a little before speaking.

"Thanks man."

And Eddie takes another leap of faith.

"I could be that person, you know."

"What?"

"I mean. You know Im... not straight. It may not be exactly what you're wanting but. I think I could picture a future with you. If you want to, just for tonight...I could be that someone who loves you."

Steve looks at Eddie, like he's a puzzle that he needs to solve, before a other shiver seems to wrack his body.

"Just for tonight?"

It comes out as a whisper, but Eddie hears it all the same.

"Yeah. For tonight Steve."

"I think...I think I'd like that."

Eddie gives him the sweetest smile he can muster, and nods.

"Alright sweetheart."

Eddie isn't exactly sure what it means, to love Steve for the night. After all, Steve is straight. He figures it doesn't matter much though, it's only for a night.

He keeps a hold on Steve, let's him get comfortable tucked against Eddie, and he does what feels natural. He runs a hand up and down Steve's spine, traces shapes into the soft fabric of his shirt. He tangles their legs together, and in a moment of insane bravery he presses a kiss to the top of Steve's head.

He's met with a sigh, full of relief, and figures he's on the right track.

"Just close your eyes Stevie, I've got you."

"Can you tell me about it?"

"Hmmm?"

"The future. You said you could see one. Can you tell me?"

And he asks so carefully, he sounds almost afraid, Eddie can't say no to that.

"Do you want the fantasy future, or the realistic future?"

"The real one."

"Alright then. Well, if I'm not going to be a rich and famous rockstar...I'll probably graduate and get a job somewhere in town. A real job, maybe working on cars or something. I'm good with cars. You'd come over all the time, have dinners with me and with Wayne. You'd have to meet Wayne. And we'd have more nights like this, sleeping close."

Steve let's out a pleased sounding hum, and shifts his face so it's buried even closer in Eddie's neck. He can feel Steve's breath on him.

"We could save up money and get a little place together, somewhere outside Hawkins. I have to stay kind of close, for my uncle, but maybe Indy?"

Steve nods, mutters something about staying close 'just in case'. He sounds like he might fall asleep, so Eddie keeps going.

"We could get an apartment, nothing too fancy. We would get two rooms, so nobody gets suspicious, but we would share a bed most nights. I'd play with my band on weekends, just for fun, and you'd join some little local sports team. I'd make sure to schedule DND nights so that I never miss a single game, even though I don't understand a damn thing about sports. We would come home for holidays, but most of the time it would just be us. I'd take good care of you, make sure you never go more than a few hours without me telling you I love you. I'll show up wherever you're working just to give you a hug and a kiss, and make sure you don't forget it. And I'll annoy the hell out of, but you won't mind too much, because I'll make you happy too."

Eddie can think of more. He can think about so many things. How he could give Steve one of his rings, even if they couldn't legally get married, even if Steve would never want that. Just as another reminder that he's loved. They could take trips together and go out to parties where Steve will never have to worry about getting ditched. Eddie doesn't do things halfway, and he has a hell of an imagination. He could picture them growing old together, if he tried, if he let himself. But this is just for tonight, so he doesn't. Instead he runs a hand through Steve's hair again, and listens to his quiet breathing. He thinks he may have fallen asleep, but he's wrong.

"That sounds nice."

It comes out muffled, spoken into Eddie's neck, but he manages to make it out, and he let's the vibration of it sink into his skin.

*It's only for tonight.*

He has to remind himself, because Steve is just feeling lonely. He doesn't want that future with Eddie, he just wants to feel loved.

But even if it's just pretend, just to help Steve for a few hours, he's okay with that.

Steve may think he's broken, but Eddie thinks he would be easy to love for a long time. Loving him for one night is nothing. He doesn't even have to try.

Tomorrow Steve will wake up sober, and he'll thank Eddie for letting him stay over, and they won't talk about it. Eddie will drive Steve back to his car in silence, and they'll say their goodbyes. They may not talk ever again, they never had before.

But for tonight? Eddie Munson will love Steve Harrington, and Steve? He'll let himself be loved, let himself beleive it. And he'll love Eddie right back.

Just for one night.

And if Steve ever needs it again? Eddie will love him for another night. And Steve will give that love right back. He's got plenty to spare, after all. And there's far worse people he could share it with.

[lorelune]

(minors dni || jing yuan x reader || wc: ~1.6k || tw: smut, mommy kink @ jing yuan, afab reader with no gendered language used, light choking, some internalized shame for reader)

you slip up.

it’s an accident— really. it is. you don’t mean to say it.

you’re not in your right mind notably. jing yuan has eaten you out to completion so many times that you've lost count. your thighs ache from the innumerable marks he’s left. his mouth still tastes like you as he kisses you.

he's fucking you now, though. slow and deep. each thrust is like a punch to your insides. it’s overwhelming. it’s too much— way too much, but the idea of stopping has you tearing up and begging for more of him, rather than less. harder. deeper. so you’ll ache for days.

jing yuan delivers— he always does. he looks so pleased as he fucks you, breathing heavily himself, nearly purring from on top of you about your state. the tone of his words hits you, makes you wetter and tighter around him. the content of his words, however is lost on you. you’re too gone. your mind is mush. you nod when he tells you too, when he tells you what you are. tells you who you belong to, who you wouldn’t dare leave—

you’re good. he says you are, you think. you’re his good, sweet things so you nod and raise your legs when he asks you. he throws your ankles over each of his shoulders, kissing your ankles. its sweet. you’re so well-cared for.

he unsheathes himself, and teases your hole with his tip. honey gaze sliding to meet yours through the haze.

"you want this, don't you?"

"uh-huh." you feel like you're floating. like you're going to die if he doesn't put his cock back inside of you. you nod dumbly, vigariously.

he hums, pleased, "you want this so badly, don't you?"

"i d-do—"

you do, you do, you do. you try and press closer; the angle is wrong for it. you whine and strain regardless because you need him, you need him—

he hushes you when you struggle, petting over your cheeks with a warm look in his eye. so sweet to you, caring, attuned and attentive like always and it's fucking ruining you.

"can you say please?" he says cheekily.

you know he's not expecting your response. you aren't either.

"p-please, mommy."

your own voice is foreign in your ears. jing yuan's eyes widen, enough to give you pause in your state. you lag, then fucking realize what you just said—

(a moniker for a kink that you keep tucked away in your most shame-filled pornography pile. a list of rotting links containing beautiful women with shapely chests taking care of a fragile little thing, cooing and kind and condescending in a way that makes you feel literally insane. every time you dare to indulge, you cum on yours fingers or against your vibrator so hard you nearly black out. then cry. or both at the same time.)

horror overtakes you. the reverie, the spell of lust and arousal feels broken as you tune into jing yuan's expression. he's. processing. clearly.

you fucked up.

you start stuttering out apologies, voice still shaking with breathlessness with fear churning into it. embarrassment and shame stick to your ribs and you can feel your voice tremble, rapidly approaching the precipice of full on tears.

before you can slink away and hide in the en suite for the rest of your life, jing yuan is grabbing your hips, dragging you back into place. pushing you down so you can't squirm away, or squirm much at all. he stares at you, tilting his head. fluffy hair falls in a halo around his cheeks, his ribbon having been tossed aside hours ago.

without speaking, he cups your cheek in one hand and pets you with his thumb. the way one would a tiny kitten. you lean into the touch without thinking, and before you can continue to spiral and feel like death about accidentally calling your partner a name you reserve for your own light night maturbatory session, one that you can only let yourself muffle into a pillow that you bite between your teeth—

jing yuan says, "do you like that?"

"... l-like what?"

he chooses his words carefully, but his tone is still so gentle, "me, being your mommy."

you're going to die. "jing yuan—" you bury your face in your hands. "you're trying to kill me."

"not at all. just clarifying." he leans closer. folding you in half. his soft, ample chest is up against yours. "do you like the idea of being my baby, dear?"

he coos it. talks down to you in his tone and rubs along your lower lash line as he does. he doesn't let you turn away or escape the question. even as your stomach churns.

you sniffle. "i— um—"

"remember to be honest." he grip drifts, and he massages over your sternum. the pressure makes you feel light-headed and floaty all over. "i'd hate to have to put you over my knee so soon. just tell mommy how you feel?"

he's going to fucking kill you.

he squeezes around your throat. his cock (still hard, maybe even harder, purpling-tip) brushes up against your clit.

you come.

he's not even inside you and you come with a sound that's something between a sob and his name, and your vision speckles at the edges. you grab his shoulder, blindly, squeezing and searching because oh my fucking god— your brain must be coming out of your ears as your cunt flutters around nothing, your legs twitch against jing yuan's shoulder.

he shushes you as you come. the high is too much, it's all too much, but he's cradling you within the sensation so well that it's okay. everything's okay and the sensation is so horribly relieving that you do cry, properly, within a few heaving breaths.

jing yuan's good to you as you do. you can't see the hint of mischief in his eyes, but it's there as he pets down your chest, you waist and hips. eventually, to your cunt, where he places a wide, scalding hand over your navel.

"i need an answer, baby." he says 'baby' in such a tone that you nearly come again.

"i like it," the words fly from your mouth and you nod, over and over. "i like it so much, i like you so much, please, please, please—"

jing yuan chuckles richly, rubbing over the apples of his cheeks.

"isn't my baby so sweet." he presses his thumb between your lips, then down on your tongue. you drool around it. "you'll be good for mommy then?"

"uh-h-huh." it comes out garbled.

jing yuan looks amused. shame and arousal burn in your gut and you feel so empty.

"can you say it for me?"

you don't even hesitate. "i c-can be good for m-mommy."

"can you now?" jing yuan's laughs, lighter and sweet and genuinely with a maternal ring and you're going to die.

"i can!"

jing yuan pulls back, just enough to reach between your and position his cock so it's notched against your cunt. you sob with the content, clinging to him.

"so sweet." he tells you as he pushes into you. it's too slow for how stretched and wet you are. you need more, but he doesn't give it to you, even as you whine and gasp for it. instead, he holds your jaw, one handed with a silken grin. "dear, i know best. take what i give you now, hm? let me take care of you how you like."

you might actually literally die. you've given the man too much power.

when he bottoms out, he presses against the bruises he made earlier. scrapping against your sweet spot, moving a languid pace that normally, on a regular day, you'd goad him out of. you'd flutter your lashes and speak your own repertoire of sweet words to have him fuck you stupid and filthy and reverent into these same sheets.

now, though? you can't. the only thought in your mind is being good. for mommy, who kisses down your throat and over your chest. who hoists you just right so you're folded in half while he fucks you. the two of you can't be closer than this, and that vulnerability has always terrified you. but in your current state? when you're just being good and letting him care and push you as he sees fit?

it's all okay. it feels so good, you come again. maybe twice more. it's a slow roll that crashes over you and you take it. you take whatever he gives you because it's okay to and you want it.

by the time jing yuan's comes with a broken moan of his own into your neck, you feel cored out. broken in a good way, with your parts slowly being reassembled into a new image. ego death, maybe. or you're being dramatic and jing yuan (mommy, he said he'd be your mommy, what does that mean—) simply fucked you so well that you don't have a coherent thought left. who is to say.

jing yuan rolls you, so you're tucked in his side, beneath his chin.

he exhales, a shaking fragile thing.

"s-so," you own voice scratches from your throat. "should we talk about that—?"

he hums, pressing a kiss to your forehead, cajoling your— lower? "later. enjoy it, dear. can you keep being good for awhile long?"

fuck post-nut clarity. you're immediately back in the depths of whatever budding thing you're actualizing. you nod. cheek pillowed against jing yuan.

he pets your hair and you breath, hot and slow against his chest. the thump of his heart calms you.

as you doze, you hear him laugh, faintly. hopelessly fond like he always seems to be with you, but there's a sweeter edge to it. something new that makes you feel perfectly warm and too hot all at once.

but it's like he said, isn't it? there's time to talk later. question. sort. whatever thing is being awakened can be parsed through after a cat nap.

with cum leaking from between your thighs, and jing yuan's peaked nipples just inches from your face, you drift and enjoy. just like mommy asked you to.

[halfmoonshines]

soft spot

damon salvatore x reader

summary; you're injured in a fight with a rogue vampire who breezed into town, and Damon is being weird about it

hurt/comfort

----

You tried to stay hidden in the shadows outside of the streetlight, but your rapid heartbeat probably would've given you away either way.

"Who the hell is this guy?" You heard Damon mutter from the spot he was tossed just a few feet away from you, dusting the dirt from the trash cans he'd squished like cardboard. His ice blue eyes spared you a quick glance but didn't say a word, trying not to draw any attention your way.

Damon intervened as Caroline was struggling to grapple with the stranger. In the span of a moment, she was on the ground groaning with a broken arm and he had launched the assailant to give them a chance to regroup - right toward you.

You couldn't help the little gasp that you emitted, no matter how much time you spent around these creatures this was a vampire. One in particular who would have no hang ups about snapping your neck.

Per their supernatural hearing, it didn't take long for the mans vicious senses to find you, and took half as long for him to have a bruising hand around your neck.

The sound of Damon yelling your name was distant in the background, you were focused on the threat literally snarling in your face.

"Don't you smell good?"

That was as far as the stranger managed to get before Damon had the broken handle of a broom protruding from his back. His grip slipped off your throat as his body slid sideways and you toppled to the ground, heading bouncing off the pavement hard enough for you to see stars.

Damon's voice was faint to you again, but you could hear him begging for your attention. Caroline was in the background too, in panicked discussion with someone over the phone. You couldn't get your eyes to focus though, hair becoming wet and warm.

The eldest Salvatore's touch on you was feather light, his mouth still moving with words he wanted you to latch onto but you had already lost the dance with consciousness.

⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆

The first thing you were aware of when you woke up in a bed was that it was decidedly not yours. The next thing you noticed was that you weren't in any pain, just a bit stiff when you went to sit up from the bed. Someone had definitely given you blood, which was against every rule her and her friends had discussed, but from the smell of the sheets behind you - Damon wouldn't have cared either way.

You made your way out of the room and down the stairs, vaguely knowing the layout of the boarding house from your handful of times actually coming inside. Over the last few months you had become dangerously intertwined in Elena's grapple with the supernatural, despite Bonnie's vehement advice to go as far as possible. You were emancipated, you could switch schools and move to Pennsylvania.

No, you couldn't. Once your conscious had been opened to everything around you, once you were aware of the dangers of the dark - you could never ignore that. Better the evil you know.

Speaking of.

You came upon Damon in his favorite spot, a tumbler of bourbon in his hand while he leaned up against the fireplace. The suit jacket he had been wearing earlier that night was discarded on the couch behind him, a small amount of blood on the collar of his shirt still.

"You always look so broody." Poking fun at him might not be in your best interest, but you figured you'd give it a go. Over the last few months, your and Damon's relationship had morphed into something you couldn't quite understand, but moments like these had seemed to become more comfortable between you.

"I believe you're confusing me with my much broodier younger brother." Damon's words were laced with sarcasm, but his tone didn't have a hint of amusement.

You felt suddenly awkward, in his space and home. Just because you had gotten kind of comfortable lately didn't mean he wanted to be around you.

"Well, thanks for the whole life saving thing." You began to babble nervously, a faint pink glow to your cheeks. "I'll get out of your hair. Sorry for taking your bed, I don't even know what time it is-" You had begun turning toward the door, making to just leave and find a way home. How you could this age and still flustered in front of attractive men, especially murderous ones was beyond you.

Damon appearing in front of you almost made your heart stop, hair stirring at his incredibly fast movements. He was barely a foot away, his piercing gaze holding your confused one. From this close you could smell just how much he had probably drank.

"Are you... okay, Damon?" Your voice wavered a bit under the heat of his stare and you saw the muscle in his jaw working overtime while he looked like he was debating whether or not he wanted to actually say anything to you.

"You don't have to thank me for saving you when you were in danger because of me." His eyes had drifted from your eyes to your neck, voice whisper quiet.

Vulnerability was the last thing you expected from the man standing over you. "What do you mean? It wasn't your fault. Just wrong place, wrong time and I so happen to be the weakest link." You hoped your voice conveyed even a bit of humor.

His eyes snapped back up to yours, head tilting slightly while he assessed you. Damon's hand rose to grab a lock of your hair, twirling it around his finger in thought. Your breath caught in your throat, feeling like you were on the precipice of something.

"My weakest link, maybe. Have I told you how much I like your hair?" His voice was still quiet, an innocent lilt.

Your mind was reeling, half drunk on his closeness and hazed by confusion. Where was this coming from? Had he drank a small liquor store and now he was confusing her for her much more appealing best friend?

"Damon, I'm not sure how much you've had to drink, but I'm happy to brew you a pot of coffee. Does that even work for vampires?"

You had started to pull away, making to turn toward the kitchen but Damon was infinitely faster than you. His drink was discarded, one hand going to your upper arm and the other to your waist, tugging you back into his vicinity.

"On the contrary, I don't think I've ever been so sure minded, sparrow. I'm sorry for not protecting you tonight." His voice was tight now, the warmth of his hands tingling down your body.

"It's not your fault, or job, Damon." Your voice had quieted to match his, all humor leaving. You didn't know where this guilt had come from, but it was misplaced. Since you'd met Damon he'd made some bad decisions, but you had also seen his sacrifice so much for the sake of the team. Even if others didn't acknowledge it, he didn't need to add anymore to his plate.

"I'd like it to be. My job." His reply was lightning quick, eyes pinning yours in place.

Were you dreaming?

Damon's signature smirk was visible for a split second, telling you that your confusion was written all over your face. "I think that I'm asking you, in the most coming of age movie way, if you'd like to go steady?"

⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆

send any fic requests here!! all comments/criticisms/requests welcome

[exhaslo]

Kinktober Day 11- Miguel x Reader (Size Kink)

        Everyone knows that Miguel was a hard working individual. He did his absolute best to keep everything up and running. As the leader of the Spider Society, Miguel did so much. Almost so that it felt like he never really took care of himself. Miguel always looked exhausted and frustrated. The stress was eating him alive. It was not hard to see why.

        You had wiggled yourself into his life by chance. It took a lot of work, but Miguel opened up to you and started a relationship. You were always there to ease his stress. To calm him down with just a simple hug. Sometimes, you wished for more. You felt like Miguel was afraid of having sex with you. Like he needed to hold himself back. You knew that it was not healthy for him. Hopefully, today you could finally help him break out of that mold.

        You and Miguel had been dating for about three months. You were a smart cookie and figured out that he was Spiderman. The embarrassment on his face when you confronted him was so cute. Hopefully, you will get a new kind of embarrassed face today. You were finally going to try and get Miguel to let loose. You were going to treat Miguel and give him the best sex of his life...and yours. This was a first for you, but it has been long enough.

"Hey, Miggy!" You chirped as he entered your apartment. You embraced him with a kiss, "I made dinner, why don't you wash up first?" You offered. 

        Miguel replied with a soft grunt, wanting to hold you a bit longer. It made you happy every time since he lifted you off your feet, literally. Miguel was huge. You felt so small beside him. You knew it was cliché, but you loved making jokes about his height. Asking about the weather, letting him know that ladders don't exist for him, all the dumb things. Miguel let you since he loved how happy it made you. You hummed happily as you prepped a big portion for Miguel. He was a big boy and worked hard, he needed to eat a lot.

"Huele bien, cariño. ¿Cuál es la ocasión? (Smells good, sweetheart. What's the occasion?)" Miguel asked as he wrapped his arms around your waist. You shivered at his breathe against the back of your neck,

"Just wanted to treat you. You need a break," You replied, feeling his wet hair drip against your shoulder, "Sit and eat. I'll dry your hair,"

"Se supone que debo tratarte como a una princesa y no al revés. (I'm supposed to treat you like a princess, not the other way around.)" He said with a chuckle.

        You felt your heart skip a beat as he laughed. Why did he have to be so charming? Hiding your face in a fresh towel, you stole glances of your boyfriend. Miguel always treated you right, now you had to return the favor. You took a moment to stare at his broad back. Oh how his shirt defined his muscles. Wiping the drool from your mouth, you wrapped the towel around his head and proceeded to dry him off. You can have your fantasies later.

"How's the food?" 

"Delicious as always." Miguel gave his thanks.

        He looked up at you, wanting a kiss, to which you gave him. You removed the towel, watching as Miguel took his empty plate to the sink. His butt so perfect in those sweatpants. Oh, tonight was defiantly going to be for Miguel...but also for you. Watching your boyfriend return to the couch, you hopped over and landed on his lap. Your legs spread over his legs, attempting to trap him in place while you wrapped your arms around his neck.

"Miguel, I'm going to treat you well tonight, okay?" You seemed hesitant now, worried for your performance. Miguel held your hips,

"Are you sure?"

You pressed your crotch against his, grinding your hips through the fabric, "I'm sure." You replied, feeling his bulge already rising. Miguel lifted you up and carried you to the bedroom,

"Sólo voy a advertirte que tengo esta pequeña cosa. (Just going to warn you, I do have this one little thing.)" He warned, towering over you on the bed.

"Nothing about you is little," You teased.

        Miguel grumbled lowly. He wanted to warn you, but it might be best for you to find out. You watched as Miguel took his clothes off, following suit. This was the first time you were going to see him naked and visa versa. Your eyes almost boggled out of your head as you saw his cock. He was covering his face with his hand. You could have sworn he was hiding a chuckle. Miguel was totally laughing at you for staring at his monster of a cock.

"Little my ass," You teased once more, approaching him.

        Miguel watched you with a gleam in his eyes. Yes, you were little compared to him. He had been itching to fucking your tiny pussy with his large cock. To hear you cry from overstimulation as he stuffed you full. There was a part of him that wanted to break you, but he loved you too much. Miguel was worried that his cock was not going to fit, that he might hurt you. He hadn't even prepped you yet. Miguel let out a soft groan as your tongue licked his shaft. Your soft lips on his tip,

"Cuidado, cariño, no te hagas daño. (Careful, baby, don't hurt yourself.) He groaned.

        You glanced up at Miguel, your tongue swirling against his tip. You were going to treat him. Miguel was too kind to you. Honestly, you had every right to be worried. His dick was larger than your biggest dildo. Just the thought of him ripping you in half was making you soak. Placing your lips against his cock again, you did a soft sucking motion. Miguel's groans were making your body tremble. Who knew he could make such noises?

        You had to balance yourself and hold onto Miguel as you sucked him. Your other hand fingering yourself. Tears were forming in the corner of your eyes as you tried to take him deeper. His dick was already hitting the back of your throat and you were only half way. You moan as Miguel placed his hand on your head, gently moving you.

"Joder, eso es correcto. Chúpame la polla con esa boquita sucia tuya. (Fuck, that's right. Suck my cock with that dirty little mouth of yours.)" He moaned lowly, sending shivers down you spine, "Mírate siendo una buena chica para mí. ¿Estás disfrutando de mi polla en esa boquita tuya? (Look at you being such a good girl for me. Are you enjoying my cock in that little mouth of yours?)"

        So this was his little issue. Miguel was such a dirty talker, but it made you even more horny. You gasped as Miguel removed you from his dick. The look in his eyes was fierce. Lust nearly consuming him as his pupils dilated. He tossed you on the bed, hovering over you. He took your lips in a rough kiss, his fingers removing yours. You whined in response, but Miguel quickly turned those into moans as he entered one finger. He took your hand in his mouth, licking your juices off your fingers.

"Hah....hah....Mig...Miguel...I'm..." You grinded your hips against his hand, feeling your orgasm arriving. Miguel smirked as he pumped his finger, curling it to draw your orgasm out,

"Impresionante, ¿mi dulce ángel tiene problemas para tomar mi dedo? Tengo que prepararte para la comida principal. Voy a estirar tu bonito coño con mi polla, cariño. (Awe, is my sweet angel having trouble taking my finger? Gotta get you prepared for the main meal. I'm going to stretch your pretty pussy with my dick, sweetheart.)"

        Those words alone made you cum. Miguel's pupils were blown as he watched you drench his hand. He chuckled as he watched your face twist with pleasure as he added another finger. Your moans getting louder as you opened your legs wider. Miguel inhaled at the sounds you were making. Your little cries, your sexy moans and of course your throbbing pussy squishing at his fingers. Oh, you were going to look so pretty taking his cock in full.

"You're doing so good, baby. Cum again for me. Doing so, so good." He whispered in your ear, curling his fingers right at that sweet spot.

        You arched your back once more, crying out his name as he drew another orgasm out of you. So much for treating him. Trying to catch your breathe since you felt like your heart was going to burst out of your chest, you gasped at Miguel. He towered over you once more, cock in hand. You had to admit that you were scared, but also excited. Watching Miguel pump his cock with his own hand made you spread your legs out for him.

"Let me know if it hurts," There was your loving boyfriend poking out of his lustful state.

        You could only nod. Miguel positioned himself and started to poke his tip inside you. You gripped the bedsheets below you. He was so big. His fingers were nothing compared to his cock. Biting your lower lip, you tried your best to not cry out. Miguel wrapped his arms around you, whispering in your ear as he kept pressing himself into you. Your hips buckled, shaking as Miguel stopped for a moment. He was letting you adjust before continuing his entry.

"Eso es cierto bebe. Eres tan apretado. Sí, lo estás haciendo muy bien. Joder, te sientes tan bien acogiéndome. (That's right, baby. You're so tight. Yes, you're doing so good. Fuck, you feel so good taking me in.)" He groaned.

        You whimpered, holding onto him as he stopped. He kissed all over your face before looking down at you. You could see the sparkles in his eyes as he watched his dick almost completely engulfed by you. You felt it too. He was hitting you so deep that you were seeing stars. The pain was subsiding and all you wanted was for Miguel to start moving. Your fear had disappeared as you tried to buckle your hips. Miguel gripped your hips,

"Look at how good you're doing," Miguel grunted as he pulled out before slamming inside you.

        You nearly yelled out a moan as you felt him hit you deeper than he just was. Your breathing grew heavy as your vision started to blur. With each rough thrust, you felt Miguel getting deeper and deeper. You heard him grunt, complaining about him being almost fully inside you. How good you felt around his cock. How your tight gummy walls were just sucking him in. Everything he was saying was making you explode with pleasure.

"S-Tan cerca. Lo estás haciendo muy bien. Mira, estoy completamente dentro de ti ahora. Joder, qué bien. Envuelto alrededor de mi polla. (S-So close. You're doing so good. Look, I'm fully inside you now. Fuck, so good. Wrapped around my cock.)" Miguel babbled lowly, feeling himself about to burst.

        You whimpered another moan, cumming once more. Miguel kept asking for more, watching you break from overstimulation. He licked your tears away, enjoying your blissed out face. The cute lil 'o' you made with your mouth every time he hit your cervix made him hard. Tightening his grip against your hips, Miguel grunted once more,

"Fuck, baby. Bebe, cariño. Déjame ver cómo tu lindo y pequeño coño se llena con mi semen. (Drink up, sweeheart. Let me watch your pretty little pussy fill with my cum.)" He moaned.

        You cried out, filling Miguel fill you. The small little bulge your stomach made as he finished filling you made him grunt. As much as he wanted to stay inside you, having you wrapped around his cock, he pulled out. Another groan escaped his lips as he heard a pop from your pussy as he pulled out. His cum dripping out. Miguel picked you up, carrying you to the bathroom,

"Told you it was a small issue," You kissed the top of your head. You muffled a groan, resting your head against his shoulder,

"There is...nothing small about you," You laughed weakly. Miguel stepped into the bathroom with you between his legs, 

"Tienes razón, pero hiciste muy bien al acogerme. No puedo esperar a volver a ser tu más alto. (You're right, but you did so good taking me in. I can't wait to tower over you again.)" Miguel nibbled against your ear.

"Easy, big boy. Let me rest first, then next time...I will try and treat you."

"Haha, can't wait."

[sunsetsover]

the more this show goes on the more i just genuinely don't get how people hate kant, or at the very least have no empathy for him and his situation.

kant is a man literally built of sacrifice. in so many ways he sacrificed his own life for babe's. over and over and over again. his grief for babe's. his education for babe's. his happiness for babe's safety and security. his social life in order to stay at home taking care of babe. relationships with partners who didn't take any interest in babe, or didn't want the baggage of a man with a dependent. whatever dreams or aspirations he had for himself fell to the wayside, at least temporarily, in favour of supporting babe.

he sacrificed his own freedom every time he stepped out of their house to go and steal a car - something that he so clearly isn't proud of at all - just so babe can get the education he deserves. the fact that he wasn't caught doesn't matter, he went to altar every single time, willing to be caught and slaughtered like a lamb if it meant babe was good.

and then he was finally caught, and he sacrificed himself in brand new ways just so he could stay out of prison. never mind the fact that kant might not have even gone to prison if it was his first offence and he played the system right, and even if he did it wouldn't have been for long. but that wasn't a chance he could ever take, because who would look after babe if he was gone, even for a few months? who would pay for school and make sure he ate? and so he stayed willingly under christ's thumb for god only knows how many years, playing whatever new versions of big brother he had to be, ingratiating himself with drug dealers and thieves and whatever other kinds of dangerous people christ wanted him to, getting himself onto all these people's bad side knowing it would only take one to figure him out and turn on him and put him in hospital, or worse. but that was a sacrifice he willingly made the moment he pulled his grieving baby brother into his arms and said 'i'll take care of him'.

and here it is, the ultimate sacrifice: christ tells kant to jump into the lion's den, promising that if he makes it out alive, he can have his freedom back. and what choice does kant have? if he doesn't they'll be back to square one after he worked so fucking hard for his and babe's stability. and babe's old enough now that kant can start having a life again, and kant's business is doing well, and things are finally good for them, but now this. and if he doesn't do this it will have all been for nothing. so he does it. essentially puts his life up as collateral once again the moment he walks through the door of heart burger and tries to seduce an assassin, knowing it could be taken from him in an instant if he missteps.

except it doesn't go as he planned, because bison is beautiful and bison is bright, and he's sweet and he's dangerous and kant can't help but fall for him, no matter how he tries to dig his heels in and think about the end goal: his freedom, his brother's safety. he says as much to style - style says bison has you wrapped around his finger and kant says i know. that's why i'm trying to end things quickly. and in that moment bison becomes yet another sacrifice kant makes for babe. or at least he's trying so hard to make him one. because what kant wants, he cannot have. not when there's babe to think about.

but it's so unfair. and it's so sad. like yes we all know it's unfair for bison and it'll be such a betrayal, but what about kant? what about his heart in all of this? what about him giggling at his phone screen like a teenager texting bison, only for the grin to fall the moment he remembers who he is and what he must do? what about him acknowledging that he's working so hard to hold bison at arms length but he's failing and that's why he needs this over asap? what about him having to be on all the fucking time, spewing out lie after lie after lie, and what that does that him? what about him being so fucking scared every time a gun is shoved in his face that he's fucked up in a way he can't talk himself out of and that babe will be left all alone in the world?

what about kant having this beautiful boy in his bed, who's kissing him in places he's never been kissed before and telling him that he loves his fuck ups, and that he won't come over because doesn't want to be a bad influence on babe, and that him stealing cars was not only not a shameful thing, but an admirable thing to do for someone you love? this beautiful boy who notices his brother is hurting and follows him to defend him from the people that hurt him without question? this beautiful boy who has asked for nothing but the truth, the one thing kant can never give him? this beautiful boy that kant is falling for, and he knows he is, and he knows he can't, because that's not allowed, because bison isn't his, he doesn't get to keep him. he's just another sacrifice in a long line of sacrifices kant has made for love, and yet this one... this one has claws. this one will leave scars that he'll get to keep longer than he will ever get to keep bison.

kant has been living with an asterisk next to his name from the moment his parents died. from then on, at every opportunity kant sacrificed who he might've been for who babe still could be. he sacrificed kant the person for kant the big brother, and whatever that included. kant the protector. kant the provider. kant the thief, the scammer, the informant. kant the manipulator. never just kant, not anymore.

but then there's bison. beautiful, observant bison who always seems to be asking who are you whenever he looks at kant. and kant doesn't know what to tell him, he really doesn't, bc whatever mask he tries to put on, whatever facade he tries to hide behind, bison just sees right through him. and although kant does everything possible to avoid telling him anything, bison always seems to get his answers anyway, even when kant doesn't say a word. like bison is collecting every splintered version of kant and putting them together to make a whole person again. just kant. no asterisk.

and kant doesn't know what to do, because bison is beautiful and he's in his bed and he has kant wrapped around his finger despite his best efforts. and yet he knows it's only of time before he has to peel himself away and never look back. let bison sit in the prison cell that was always supposed to be kant's. and despite how he might try to convince himself otherwise, he knows the guilt will eat him alive. he knows he'll feel the place where he tore them apart just as acutely as bison will. he'll have to splinter apart into a thousand versions of himself all over again. kant with an asterisk. and he'll have no one to blame but himself.

and isn't that just so fucking unfair?

[lustlovehart]

Hi!! I have never requested anything before, so I really hope that I am doing this right!! So I have been thinking about Scaramouche and reader having a secret relationship. One day they are making out in his office (still kind of sfw) and just before it gets too steamy, a subordinate knocks on the door and they both have to act like nothing happened with flushed faces 🤭🤭

I really hope that you get what I mean😭 It would be very nice, if you accepted this request!!/nf Thank youu!!!!!!!!

A/n: Coincidentally enough, I actually had something in my wips with this same prompt. Also, I may have gone a biiitt away from the exact request, but I think I still kept most of what you wanted!!

Summary: Sometimes the two of you are too absorbed with eachother to notice what surrounds you.

Warnings: Extremely Suggestive but no explicit NSFW, marking, like one sentence of angst

People in the fatui talk, there is no doubt about that in your mind. They don’t exactly try to hide their whispers, nor do they try to to disguise their gossip. All they can truly do is protect what leaves their mouth with the thin barrier of their hand covering what they say. Though, there has been one topic of note that every fatuus has been spouting as of recently,

“Are any of the harbingers in a romantic relationship??”

"Not sure... They seem to be very focused on the work the Tsaritsa bestows upon them."

"You're right... Though, it would be interesting, dont you think?"

Your hand immediately slams onto the harbingers expensive wooden desk, an attempt to catch yourself before you fall onto the hard flooring. Your neck is bent toward the left, allowing the man in front of you easy accesses to the area.

"Kuni.... Could you not wait... Ha... Until you're off the job...?" Your fingers are intertwined with his violet strands, his own hands in turn roaming up and down your body, wrinkling your uniform.

His lips pop off your skin, the feeling of wet salvia being felt. You can't see it, but if you did you're sure it would be extremely noticeable.

"Why would I wait? We can just do it now."

The two of you are only meant to collect paperwork for an upcoming exchange with another fatui branch, you have no idea how this had came to be.

His left arm reachs to your bottom, hoisting you up onto the surface of the table, his other hand wiping any items on the top to the floor, loud clangs echoing through the room.

"Don't you need those? What if they're broken...?"

"Don't focus on that, pay attention to me. Besides, my budget is enough to cover it anyway."

Right, Fatui Harbinger... Rich. His fingers grip onto the back of your head pulling you into him as his mouth immediately connects to your own. You're sure you can feel literal static surrounding the two of you as your lips lock against on another.

To him, though his body might not be human, every feeling you give him is enough to make him feel truly alive. If he had the choice to choose between you and godhood, he's sure he wouldn't know what to pick.

It doesn't matter now though, if he has you, he's sure life for him won't be as pitiful as it once was.

When you try pulling away from the exchange his lips follow you like magnets, it's only when you push away with more force does he remember that you need air, unlike the vessel he holds with a limitless lung capacity.

Your forehead is rested against his as you pant, a thin line of saliva still connecting the two of you, the man's hands is still groping at whatever piece of skin he could reach, a laugh leaving his throat as he looks at the flustered state you're in.

"What? Couldn't keep up with me?"

"Be... Haa... Be quiet..."

"What was that? I'm gonna need you to speak up [Name], my mechanical ears can't hear you."

You were getting tired of his comments, immediately pulling him in for more while his finger rush to take your shirt uniform off you.

Once he had taken it off, he didn't seem to care where it landed, only throwing it somewhere random in the open space.

His hands creep up your legs, ready to undo whatever you were wearing down there as well.

Since you had only expected to grab some documents, it seemed the thought of locking the door had completely escaped you.

"My Lord! The Regrator is currently asking for you-"

Your hands immediately fly up to save any dignity you have left of yourself, Scaramouches arms doing best he can to cover your body.

"Out."

It seemed the soldier was in shock, as his eyes could only keep between the two completely embarrassed individuals, one of them being half naked.

"Did you not hear me? I said leave." You're sure the subordinate saw him in a horrifying light, but looking at him up close you could easily tell just how red his face is, even despite having no blood circulation.

"Of- Of course my lord! I will be waiting outside!" He immediately dashed through the door a loud slam bouncing off the walls.

When you look back at him as his fingers pinch the his nose bridge, an obvious agitated look spread across his face.

-----

"Were you not taught by your caretakers to knock on doors before you open them? No... Maybe they're just as incompetent as you are."

Though your clothes were haphazardly put back on, you still stood by the harbingers side as he demeaned the fatuus, smoothing out any wrinkles your uniform had.

"Forgive me my lord..."

To be honest, you wouldn't have gone with the man, if it weren't for the fact you're sure he would obliterate the soldier if you weren't there.

"So... Are you and [Name] together-?"

"Continue talking if you wanna be sent back home in a coffin."

Though harsh words keep leaving his esophagus, you can still notice the vibrant red spread around his face when he replies.

------

"Good job not electrocuting the guy Kuni."

"Who says I'm not gonna do It on another date?"

"If you don't we can pick up where we left off when we get to my house."

"Ha, if that's what you really want."

[thezombieprostitute]

Taking Care of You

A/N: Written for @the-slumberparty's December Daze Challenge.

Prompt: hot chocolate/apple cider/tea and a nice book

Warnings: Implied smut, Language, Pregnancy. Please let me know if I'm missing any!

Series Masterlist

You were sitting on the couch, wrapped up in a blanket, alternating between watching the snow fall and reading your book while drinking cider made from the apples you and Steve had picked earlier in the year. Back before you knew you were pregnant.

Your smile widens at the memory of Steve trying to tell you about it. That it was the reason he'd been in such a territorial, protective mood. You weren't upset with him but you did ask about a pregnancy test or two to confirm. He understood and not only got you the pregnancy tests but also got you a doctor appointment to confirm. Sure enough, you were about a month along then.

Since then Steve has been going into overdrive to make sure you and the baby are safe and comfortable. Emphasis on the comfortable. You never thought you'd go for the kind of man that takes care of almost literally everything for you, but Steve might be changing your mind on that. He somehow manages to be around all the time without feeling suffocating. Even when you go into town together and he's in full on guard mode. If anything, his caring, protective side just makes your hormones go even more out of control.

As if on cue, Steve comes into the living room from his workshop. He's been working on a handmade crib for the little one, insisting he wants the pup to be surrounded by familial scents. He must have worked up a sweat because his shirt is off and you lick your lips at his exposed torso. You gently squeeze your thighs together and he gives you a knowing look.

"Does my girl need some attention?" he almost growls.

"Please, Steve," you whine.

"Tell me what you need, Doll."

"I need you to fuck me, Steve," you whimper. "I need you to fill my pussy with your cock, please!"

Steve's pupils are blown as he starts unwrapping you from your blankets. "It'll cost you, you know."

"What's the price?" you moan. The blankets are off and his hands are pushing down your sweatpants.

"First I get to eat your pussy like it's my last meal."

A shiver runs down your spine as you whimper, "yes, please."

You're woken up by the sound of Steve's voice. You feel a slight pressure on your stomach and, after blinking a few times, you realize Steve is talking to the small bump created by the baby.

"I have no idea what I'm doing," he confesses to the baby bump. "But I promise I'll do whatever it takes to make sure you and your mama are safe and happy." He pauses for a few moments. "That being said, we gotta have a talk about your eating habits. I get that you want a lot of protein but you need to let Mama eat some vegetables. You both need the nutrients. It can't be steak, pork chops, and ham all the time. Though you do seem to accept soups and stir fry. Maybe Mama can teach me how to make those so she can rest some more. Don't think I haven't noticed how tired she's gotten. Seriously, you gotta let her eat some veggies."

His one-sided conversation is interrupted by your giggles.

"Excuse you," he playfully chides, "I'm having a conversation here."

"You're talking to my belly," you counter.

"I'm talking to our baby, thank you."

You both smile softly when he says that. You gesture for him to move in close for a kiss and he acquiesces.

"And I know you're going to be a great dad," you assure him, making his cheeks turn pink.

"We won't know for certain until the baby is here."

"Trust me," you hug him. "You're already working hard to make sure this baby has a great start in life. You've even been reaching out to other werewolves, something you've never done before, just to ask about things for me and the baby. You swallowed your pride for us. That's no small endeavor."

Steve nuzzles his beard against your neck. "Thank you for giving me a much better, richer life than I ever thought I'd get."

"My pleasure, Steve."

Series Masterlist

Tagging: @alicedopey; @darsynia; @delicatebarness; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @irishhappiness; @lokislady82; @ronearoundblindly; @thiquefunlover63

[deathbxnny]

hello, may I request jing yuan with a teen!reader who is jealous of yanqing? - they are around the same age as him, a new cloud knight who is an orphan, they try really hard to get the generals attention, even making him tea, buying presents etc. they want to be like yanqing, and are a bit jealous of the relationship with jy and yanqing, so they always try to prove themselves, even sacrificing food and sleep for their training, and are reckless during missions (bonus points if yanqing or jing yuan is present at the mission, they would literally fight until they pass out)

Oooh, I really love this request, Anon!! Thank you for the idea, and I hope you'll like this! (Also, I'm sorry this took so long... my final exams were out for blood, but I'm thankfully nearly done with them...)<33

Content: Reader is an Orphan, angst, hurt comfort, father figure Jing Yuan, mentions of near death of reader, sfw

Reader has no set pronouns!!

((Not proofread))

You always compared yourself to Yanqing, wondering what the difference between you two was that made him the generals clear favorite. It infuriated and frustrated you to no end. It took up most of your thoughts and feelings. It eventually just consumed you as a whole once you realised that the clear difference must've been strength.

At first, you attempted to get the generals attention through more mundane things like bringing him tea, starting conversations, or giving him trinkets you made yourself. He appreciated them all with kind smiles, and it made you happy to be the recipient until his focus shifted back to the blonde boy rather quickly after. You'd stand there watching the two talk so naturally with eachother, eyes burning with misplaced anger and rage, which made you think of other ways to get the older man's interest in you.

You and Yanqing were the same age and had similar backgrounds, but his skills were always far more advanced than yours. He was powerful and a force to be reckoned with even when he was so young. That was a fact. And you... weren't exactly that. You were strong, yes, but you weren't good enough. So the only logical next step was training until you could be like him... no even better than him.

Your days, therefore, were only spent with training of all kinds that went on for hours. You began not caring about sleep, nor food, nor anything else. The goal was clear. But it was still not enough. You knew you had to do so much more and so much better. So excelling in your missions was a must.

You and Yanqing often went on missions together despite not necessarily getting along fully. He never understood your issue with him but didn't comment on it. So he was very much surprised, when you pushed him away during one mission and nearly killed yourself during a violent attack by a marastruck soldier. Your strength and speed saved his life. But yours was barely hanging on when you were quickly taken away by medics.

You were startled to see the general at your bedside, calmly patting your head to tell you that everything was fine and that you'd be on your feet again soon. He thanked you for saving Yanqing, and whilst you could feel the lecture on the tip of his tongue, he kept back for later. He was proud of you... just don't do that again.