#i'm just not sure with some of the personal questions on this.

[iamthececimonster]

This....as a PhD student in an unfunded program just trying to finish their doctorate in Human Sexuality before I lose the ability to do so....maybe this is NOT the advice to give. Be discerning, for sure. Clarify the legitimacy of studies. Look for a researcher's contact information, contact them if you have questions. Learn what sources are trustworthy. But my study has nothing to do with the US government, and most people in my position (or similar ones) also don't have anything to do with the US government. I'm a queer person trying to understand queer community building. Not selling information to the Republicans. Don't broadly try to tell people to ignore all studies, surveys, etc. Some of us are trying to help our communities. Just saying.

[mimiiiiiiiiisstuff]

"Waking Up in Vegas"

Prologue, Chapter one:, Chapter 2,Chapter 3, Chapter 4:

ok guys! we're back and reader's hot girl summer has started! Sorry I was gonna put this chapter out earlier today but i've just been so busy today plus i'm cooking up a 3rd part for "older" I got my period AND i have a math test and english essay coming up. If some parts don't make sense, its on purpose. Reader is disoriented and drunk half the time, the days blur together for her. Lmk what yall think of readers hot girl summer and what you want/think will happen in the next chapter .Sorry for any mistakes! Comments, reblogs and ASKS make my dayyyy and encourage me.

Saint-Tropez wasn’t just a place, it was a playground, a haven for those who didn’t care about consequences or anyone else’s rules.

And you? Well, you were done with rules.

For the last two weeks, you’d been living like this, untouchable, free, and completely lying to your family.

You had told Bruce you were staying with Ariel and her father, which was true, for the first two days anyway.

Ariel's father is a busy man, he couldn't take 2 and a half months off work to babysit two 16 year olds who would do what they wanted anyway. As soon as he left, Ariel began calling your two other close friends, Claire and Rory. Together, all four of you were unstoppable at school though it was an unspoken rule that you and Ariel were the dynamic duo. All four of you stayed in Ariel's ocean front villa, relaxing, tanning, and just getting settled.

God, let's not even start on how drastically everything changed while you were at boarding school and the family found out Tiffany's true colors. They were all so.....protective now. You got calls everyday, from each of your 'siblings' separately, dozens of texts asking you what you ate, who you were with, and what you were doing. You didn't entertain them. The only person you replied to was Bruce, and that's only because you knew if he wanted to, he could call off this whole trip.

You didn't answer Tim's random, vague questions like, "Who's that on your story? Do you know them? Are you sure they're safe to be with?" He was asking about a simple sunset dinner picture you posted with Ariel, so you blocked him. He's way too nosy.

You didn't reply to the groupchat the girls, Barbra, Steph, and Cass added you in called "The girls!!"

What a creative name!

You left after you saw 'Tiffany was removed from this conversation'. Maybe you were being petty but they obviously had this chat before and didn't bother to add you to it before Tiffany was exposed. It was your turn to ignore them.

You definitely didn't reply to Damian's outright threatening messages that he sent almost every other day, they all sounded something along the lines of "You will regret this. You cannot simply leave and run away from your family. Come home or else."

He's such a strange little boy, he spoke and acted like an angry Victorian prince. He texted you like you were close before, like it wasn't him who pushed you away. You were coming back in two months and yet he acted like ran away and changed your name.

Jason, Bruce, and Dick were the most consistent and annoying, in that order exactly.

Jason texted you every morning at 8 and every night 11, like clockwork. His texts were daily updates what he was planning on doing that day, asking you the same, and reminding you that he's sorry and that he loves you. It tugged at your heart not to answer him, and sometimes, you gave in and you could feel the joy in his response when you replied. You and Jason's conversations went like this, on the odd occasion you replied,

"Good morning." - Jason

"How are you? No trouble in paradise I hope."- Jason

"My days gonna be pretty dull today, nothing much except patrol. Might go to that bookstore you used to like." - Jason

Your cold heart would melt when he said things like that and you would reply,

"awww! jason, thats so sweet." and follow with "I'm good!! how bout you??? staying out of trouble?"

Jason was your softest spot and he knew it.

Bruce texted you three times a day. Morning, afternoon, and evening. His messages were dry and authorative, demanding answers. He wanted to know who you were with, what you were doing, if you left the house, and if you were okay. The fatherly care and authority isn't something your used to, it was strange. You weren't sure if you felt cared for or suffocated. You answered Bruce once a day, your tone straight to the point, answering only what he asked, nothing more.

Dick is by far the worst. He texted you constantly, as if trying to make up for 11 years of not texting you at all. He texted you when he woke up, when he slept, when he ate, what he ate, and sent you pictures of everything. Once he sent you a picture of a tiny bird saying it reminded him of you. You nearly blocked him after that, the only reason you didn't was because you liked how desperate he was. Not long ago, it was you spamming him like that. Plus he can be funny most of the time. You don't even want to think of the constant selfies he sent. You only ever replied once.

Dick sent a selfie of him hanging with some of the Titans, you forgot why or what he said along with it, but you do remember seeing Connor Kent shirtless in the background. You giggled and showed Ariel how hot he is. You replied to Dick almost instantly hearting the picture, screen shotting it, and drawing a heart around Connor saying something like, "WHO DAT IN THE BACK????" and "Tell superboy to hmu".

Dick was not happy about that, that was the last group selfie he ever sent. He got more frequent with his texts after that. He must've snitched to Jason because not even five minutes after you got a text from him.

"Remember what I said. No boys, i'll kick his ass." - Jason

You ignored him of course.

The sun beat down in the south of France, but you were far from concerned with the blistering heat. Not when there was a private yacht at your disposal, a poolside filled with strangers and familiar faces alike, and the soundtrack of Drake keeping your pulse racing. You felt the vibration of your phone against your palm for the third time in ten minutes. Another text from Bruce. He was becoming more insistent you answer him the longer you were gone. It's only been two weeks! Another "where are you?" or "be careful." As if you were gonna listen. Or reply to him.

Bruce. The man who'd ignored you for the better part of your life, suddenly acting like a worried father because Tiffany, the perfect sister, had betrayed them all. Tiffany, the adopted daughter who had somehow replaced you in their world. Now, she was the enemy, the traitor, the spy, and she was gone. That meant you had all the freedom you could ever want.

The more you thought about Tiffany the angrier you got. She had everything. How many summers has she spent on yatchs partying? How many times has she blown thousands of Bruce's dollars? Why were you forgiving them so easily? Why were you even listening to him?

Just because he apologized and said he'd change?

Why should you forgive Jason so easily and respect his rules, he ignored you for years and replaced you with Tiffany. The more you drank, the more you thought and the angrier you got. Who do they think they are? You've always been too nice, too obedient, and they're still taking advantage of it. You'd show them, show them what its like to be ignored and forgotten and made fun of.

For the next two months, you were going to ignore them. Bruce and jason included. You've been too nice, too good these two weeks, your friends were begging to party but you didn't want to, you were scared of disappointing them.

You were so angry nothing changed in you that you finally caved and decided to do what Claire and Rory were doing, give your phone to a worker here and have them turn the location on and send updates to Bruce. You still used the same icloud so you could read their messages and make sure they weren't suspicous.

He'd think you were always at the villa or just going into town, they won't know what hit them.

You turn to Ariel and grin, "I'm free. What are we doing tonight?" You were done obeying their rules and living your life for them. Who knows when you'd be alone in Europe with your best friends again.

Ariel hopped off her chair and squealed, her dark skin glowing from the sun, she grabbed you and twirled you around, your giggles echoing through the yacht and drawing Claire and Rory's attention.

Ariel grinned and explained to Rory and Claire, "Little Miss good girl finally came to her senses and went M.I.A with her dad. Now we can finally party! Hot girl summer starts now."

All three girls start squealing and join Ariel in her celebration.

You rolled your eyes feeling guilty, "I told you, you could've gone without me!"

Ariel wrapped her arm around you, "Nonsense, it's not a party without you. Now, come on we gotta go shopping if we're going out tonight. It's lucky that we both have daddy's black cards. It's really lucky that they have Dior, Hermes, and YSL down the street."

You weren't sure how much you spent and the drinks kept you from feeling guilty. Bruce is like, a bajilionaire, what you spent won't make a dent.

Somehow, you ended up on an even bigger yacht filled with guys, in your brand new Dior bikini with a matching bag.

By the time night fell, the yacht was buzzing, the VIP lounge overrun by people who hadn’t even been invited. The bass was so loud you felt it in your bones. You didn’t care. You've never felt so alive.

Your new phone wasn't getting any messages except DMs, and the woman you hired confirming Bruce thought you were sound asleep in the villa.

You can practically taste the summer air as you step onto the deck of the boat, laughing with Ariel and your friends and the others you’ve met along the way. No one cares about where you’ve been, where you’re going, or who your family is.

As the DJ cranks up the volume, a cute guy with long blonde hair catches your eye. You wink at him and saunter over. This summer is all about freedom, and you’re ready for it. His hands are already on your waist, pulling you close, and suddenly you’re lost in the rhythm, spinning and laughing, his lips brushing against your ear.

The night wears on, you drink more, laugh louder, flirt harder. The yacht turns into a blur of lights, drinks, and music. As midnight rolls around, the party shows no signs of slowing. You could stay here forever, with no rules but your own.

But then it happens. You wake up in a completely different city.

London.

You’re sprawled on a plush couch in a ridiculously luxurious flat, a half-empty bottle of champagne next to you. The room smells like expensive perfume, and the decor is all sleek lines and minimalist chic. You sit up slowly, your head pounding from last night.

You sit up straighter, rubbing your eyes.You vaguely remember a private jet, but it’s all blurry. One moment, you were on the deck of the yacht, living it up, and the next, you're waking up in an entirely new country.

You look around the room in panic and spot Ariel sleeping on the couch and a random guy, butt naked on the floor next to her. You sigh in relief at Ariel being okay and the fact you weren't kidnapped.

There’s a knock at the room door, and when you answer, it's a random guy from last night, British accent, disheveled hair, wearing nothing but boxer shorts. He grins at you sheepishly. “Hey, you good?”

You, Ariel, the naked boy named Christian, and the Brit named Thomas, have breakfast and exchange stories of what you remember from last night. It was fun, but you and Ariel flew back to St. Tropez where a jealous Claire and a worried Rory were waiting.

Last night was fun, but it couldn't happen again. It was dangerous and if anything happened Bruce wouldn't know.

Except it did happen again, and again, all summer long.

The next weeks were a blur, Venice, Monaco, and Madrid, with stops in Dubai and Los Angeles along the way. Each city more vibrant and intoxicating than the last. Every place you went, you had the freedom to be whoever you wanted to be. There was always a fresh crop of people, and you reveled in not having to answer to anyone. No father, no brothers, no sisters, just you and your friends against the world.

You and Ariel lived your lives like you were gonna die tomorrow. You were unstoppable, no family, no rules, no responsibility. Your abilities weren't acting up at all, everything was perfect. Bruce and the family were off your back, being made to think you were at the villa all day.

The “No Boys Rule” was completely disregarded, though. It seemed that whenever you let your guard down for just a moment, you’d end up surrounded by someone new. Whether it was a guy from a club in Monaco or a guy you met on a private yacht in Venice, you were always finding someone new

Despite all the parties, the alcohol, and the private Instagram posts, and funny Tik Toks, there was still a growing sense that you weren’t living this life for you, you were living it for the rebellion, to spite Bruce.

It wasn’t just about freedom anymore. It was about finally being seen, even if that meant drifting away from everyone you once called family.

You only had one month left of absolute freedom, and you were gonna make the most of it. With Ariel, Rory, and Claire by your side, you partied in just about every city.

The final month of your wild European escapade had arrived, and things were only getting wilder.

The clock had no meaning anymore. Days and nights blended into each other as you danced from one city to the next, your world a whirlwind of music, champagne, and endless laughter. Ariel, Rory, and Claire had become your partners in crime, literally when you got arrested, but thats not important.

Each morning you woke up in a new place, groggy and confused, only to remember the night before—flashing lights, pounding beats, and the promise of more. Cannes, Monte Carlo, Paris, or Dubai, it didn’t matter. What mattered was the freedom you’d found in them, and in yourself. You were more than the neglected, ignored girl from Gotham; now, you were the life of the party.

there was always someone waiting to whisk you away to the next nightclub, the next gala, the next beach party where the world’s richest men tried to get your attention.

First, it was Paris. You could feel the eyes on you as soon as you entered the hotel lobby. The air smelled of expensive perfume, freshly polished marble, and the faintest trace of guilt, because in some corner of your mind, you could still hear Bruce’s voice echoing in your ears. But it quickly faded as the first private yacht rolled up to the dock. The deck was crowded with Parisian socialites and half-drunk billionaires, but it wasn’t about the crowd, it was about the feeling of being wanted. Being worshipped.

It was in Paris that you really started feeling the distance between you and the life you’d left behind. The champagne flowed easily, the laughter came effortlessly, but there was an ache you hadn’t anticipated. A pang that struck at the edges of your satisfaction, the kind you couldn’t drink away.

You thought about Bruce. His pleading words, his desperation, and how, for a moment, you almost felt sorry for him. But only for a moment. You couldn’t let him win. Couldn’t let them see that you’d needed them. Because that would mean giving up everything you had now, the freedom, the endless nights, the city hopping, the boys who adored you.

You let it all sink in, just for a second, how much control you had over them now. How much they wanted you back, how much they needed you back. It felt good, knowing that you could walk away and have them chase after you, like you used to chase them.

Maybe it was the brief, fleeting moments when you thought about Gotham, about Bruce, about your family, and how none of it felt real anymore. They’d played their games, ignored you, and now it was your turn.

Meanwhile, your phone was a constant buzz of messages. Tim had sent at least five texts, each one more urgent than the last. Jason called twice, his voice sharp and filled with that annoying overprotectiveness he just developed. And Bruce… well, Bruce sent you one long, pleading message, something about understanding, about giving him another chance, and answering his calls. You didn’t even bother reading it all. You didn’t need to. You didn’t care enough to respond.

You had no intention of being tied down by anyone, but when a French prince with dark, tousled hair and eyes that burned through your soul offered you a glass of champagne and a seat next to him, you took it.

You didn’t even have to look for him, he found you. He was the one with the perfect jawline, the one who could be a model if he wasn’t already a prince. His eyes, blue locked onto yours the second you entered the VIP area. A raised brow, a subtle smirk, and you knew that for tonight, he was yours.

You didn’t speak much. He didn’t ask questions, and that was the kind of energy you craved. A few words, some flirting, fleeting touches, and then you were in his Lambo, the leather seats smooth under your skin as the city sped by. He went as fast as you wanted, loving the thrill and impressed look in your eyes.

The thrill was intoxicating, the feeling of being someone else, someone free. The kind of person who didn’t have to answer to anyone. A few hours later, you were standing on a balcony, watching the sunrise, your lips tingling from the kiss he’d stolen.

Your mind was a haze of laughter and the aftertaste of expensive whiskey. The view of the French Riviera was far too beautiful to appreciate right now, and your thoughts wandered back to Gotham, to the family you’d abandoned, the ones who had never cared for you.

But as the days wore on, it was harder to ignore the hollow feeling creeping in. The message from Dick, the one where he told you that he loved you, stayed in your mind longer than it should have. You told yourself it didn’t matter. You didn’t owe him anything. But you couldn’t help but wonder, just for a second, what it would have been like if things were different.

You turned away from those thoughts quickly. You couldn’t afford to get attached. Not now. Not when you were on the verge of something bigger. The freedom you had now was everything you wanted. No one could take that from you.

You couldn’t let them control you. You wouldn’t let them.

You and Ariel were inseparable now, pulling Claire and Rory into your whirlwind of recklessness. You all had your roles, Ariel was the carefree partier, Claire the quiet one who always managed to keep ya'll out of trouble, and Rory was the one always ready with a camera and a new Tik Tok idea. You were the star, the one they all gravitated toward.

Each day was a new city, a new set of challenges, a new set of eyes who wanted to be close to you. You knew the game, knew how to play it. You knew how to keep them guessing, how to make them want you more.

So, you danced. You partied. You lived in the moment and let your life spiral further from Gotham’s grasp.

From there, it was off to the next city.

Las Vegas; Sin City, there was no place like it. You couldn’t even remember how you got there, your mind fuzzy with a mix of adrenaline and whatever was in that last glass of tequila. The strip was lit up like daylight, people everywhere, the air thick with smoke and the sound of slot machines ringing through the night.

You woke up in a penthouse suite that could have been mistaken for an entire floor of the Bellagio, the morning sunlight filtering through the floor-to-ceiling windows. And there he was, a prince. The same French prince, draped in a robe embroidered with gold thread, a fresh glass of mimosas on the table beside him. He was smirking, lounging on the couch like this was all part of his daily routine. You couldn’t even remember how you got to the suite. What had happened between the bar and now? You didn’t care.

He didn’t seem to care either, his hand casually tracing the rim of his glass, his eyes never leaving you. You laughed, feeling the surrealness of it all wash over you, the weight of your last 48 hours in Ibiza and Monaco still fresh on your skin. One minute, you were dancing at a celebrity’s secret after-party in Monaco, and the next, you were here, on the other side of the world with some mysterious prince who had probably already forgotten your name.

The rest of the night was spent taking private jet rides to exclusive clubs, partying with people whose names you couldn’t even pronounce, and waking up to the flashing lights of a casino floor. Vegas was the kind of place where everything felt fake, but that didn’t matter. You really are Brucie Wayne's daughter.

Next stop, Ibiza, the heart of Europe’s clubbing scene. Ariel and you slipped into the club, stepping past the velvet ropes like it was second nature. The security guard practically bowed as you walked by. The crowd parted for you, the clinking of champagne glasses and the hum of expensive conversations filling the air.

This was where you belonged. The heat of the island, the night that stretched into forever. You and Ariel danced on top of the table at Pacha, popping bottles like they were nothing, the music vibrating in your bones, the crowd chanting your name like you were the star of the show. It was your second night there, and you had already met a Spanish duke who was more interested in buying you a yacht than actually getting to know you. There was white powder everywhere, tempting you to try but you didn't give in. Who knows what could be in it. Your friends and most people at the club didn't share the same idea.

You just wanted to enjoy the view and keep the party going but you were worried, maybe this was too much.

“we’ve got to live for the moment,” Ariel grinned, taking a shot of something that made her eyes water. “Who cares if we’re in a foreign country surrounded by dangerous people? It’s the best kind of chaos. When else are we gonna do this?”

Somehow you ended up on a private yacht again, this time surrounded by Ibiza’s elite. You weren’t sure how many shots of tequila you’d had, but you knew that the man at your side had given you a diamond bracelet to match your dress. You accepted with a grin asking him to put it on for you, your hair wild, your makeup smudged from hours of dancing, but it didn’t matter. You were untouchable.

It was getting close to 3 AM, and the music hadn’t stopped. The drinks kept flowing, and the Duke’s yacht you somehow ended up on was finally leaving the dock. You couldn’t remember how you ended up on the boat, but you were there now, floating on a million-dollar boat with peopl you’d only seen on TV. One of the men from the night before was already making eye contact, his glass of sangria in hand.

It was hard to be shy in a setting like this. Rory, who’d never been afraid of attention, was deep in conversation with a couple of supermodels who were likely on their third or fourth drink. Claire was wrapped up in a flirtation with the duke who owned this yacht, and Arie was in her own world, laughing with a group of guys who were definitely not short on cash.

The next morning, you woke up on the yacht, the sun blazing over the Mediterranean. You stretched lazily, your body still buzzing from the night before, and found yourself face-to-face with the man from last night.

He smirked, “Care for another round?” he asked, his accent thick, the sound of the waves crashing against the boat providing an oddly peaceful background.

You laughed and agreed. It was all so easy, this life. This endless, carefree abandon. No rules, no family to answer to, no obligations. It was just you, your friends, and a bunch of gorgeous strangers who only saw you for the party girl you had become. And for now, that was enough.

Next, Monaco, the grandest of them all. You didn’t just go to Monaco, you ruled it. You, Ariel, Claire and Rory crashing the most exclusive gala in the world; rich industrialists, F1 drivers ,tech moguls, the faces that appeared on the front of every magazine. But to you, it was just another game to play. Every conversation was a carefully curated performance, everyone vying for your attention, for your approval.

The days blurred together. Each city more beautiful, each party more decadent than the last. Monaco was wild, filled with the world’s elite and their very bored children. The private yacht parties were nothing short of a movie set, jet skis, champagne, drugs, and the sun beating down relentlessly. The thrill of it all never left, and every night you found a new billionaire, actor, or race car driver to distract you. It wasn’t about them, not really, it was about keeping the power in your hands, it was about feeling good. Taking away the pain that came with your powers, fortunately, men were jumping into your bed.

You didn’t even have to try. One wink, one smile, and suddenly you were in a Bentley, whisked away to a private after-party in a hidden corner of Monaco’s coastline. The prince of some oil-rich kingdom was at your side, and the night was long, filled with laughter and stolen kisses under the stars. You didn’t care what his name was, where he came from, or who he was, he was just another prince who could buy you anything you wanted.

You met guy, almost as rich as Bruce, who you beat at poker, he was more than happy to throw a yacht party in your honor. The invitation was clear: “Come party with us. No rules. No limits.”

Ariel had already decided to make a game of seeing how many men she could flirt before sunset, while Rory was doing her usual thing, charming people with her wit. You, on the other hand, had become the center of attention, as if the whole event was designed around you. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d had a conversation that didn’t involve someone trying to buy you a drink, or a private island.

As the weeks stretched on, you could barely keep track of all the cities you had visited. You spent one night in Berlin, dancing until dawn in one of the city’s most infamous clubs. The next, you were in Milan, draped in designer clothing and laughing with the most influential fashion people in the world. Every day felt like a new chapter, filled with new people, new parties, and a new sense of power.

It was intoxicating. Everyone loved you here, you were the life of every party. You had so many friends, you'd never be alone again.

There was something so exhilarating about being surrounded by people who knew your last name, who were used to rubbing elbows with people like Bruce Wayne, but didn’t realize you were his daughter.

You felt it in your bones now, the distance between you and Gotham was growing wider. The weight of the past, the guilt that had once threatened to crush you, was nothing more than a distant memory. Each city, each new face, each new party was a reminder that you didn’t need them. You didn’t need anyone.

But deep down, something shifted. Maybe it was the late-night conversations with Ariel on the balcony of a villa in Santorini, the wine flowing freely as you discussed the future, her dreams, your dreams, how you’d never go back to the way things were. Maybe it was the quiet moments alone on the edge of some private infinity pool, staring out at a horizon that seemed endless and just… empty.

You didn’t know when you started to feel it, but you knew one thing for sure: when you finally did come back to Gotham, you weren’t going to be the same person who had left.

The Final Stop, St. Tropez. You did a full circle. Your last hurrah before you returned home, or where your family assumed you were all this time. The private beach parties, the yachts that lined the harbor, the whispers of billionaires in their private jets. You danced in the sand, surrounded by flashes from cameras and jealous glares from women who had no idea who you were, but wanted to be you all the same.

A private villa awaited you, and there, amidst the most extravagant décor, you found yourself facing yet another prince, yet another man eager to claim you as his own.

You turned to find a prince—probably from denmark—standing next to you. You immediately recognized his face from magazines. He was the one who was always pictured at galas with his equally famous family. He was beautiful, dark-haired and dangerous, with a body like chiseled stone. But the only thing you could think about was how long it would take before you got bored of him, before you moved on to the next.

His thick accented voice cut through your thoughts, "Well, if it isn't the infamous party girl." He smirked eyeing you up and down.

"Oh, so you've heard of me" You said smiling. You had no idea how he knew you, all your socials were private and theres no way you had mutual friends. You froze for a second, just how far has your reputation proceeded you, did Bruce hear?

You brushed the thought away as soon as it came, Bruce didn't exist. Not tonight, your last actual night of freedom. Not when you were boarding the flight to gotham after tomorrow.

"Hard not to. You've been everywhere. Paris, London, Ibiza, Monaco, Dubai, Vegas. You're practically the princess of Europe." He grinned leaning closer.

After two months you were finally starting to feel the rush of it all catching up to you. But for now? Who cared? You were a 16-year-old filled with confidence, chaos, and fun. The world was yours, and there was no one who could stop you, least of all, your father, who were still clueless about your whereabouts and secretly obsessing over your every move. You were too busy living in the moment to care about that.

You were officially the European Party Girl, the one everyone wanted to be friends with, the one they all wanted to take selfies with.

Ariel once called you a prince magnet, she wasn't wrong. You woke up next to him the next morning, his strong arms around your waist.

When you went back to Gotham, you weren’t just going to show up. You were going to treat them like they treated you all these years, you were going to laugh in their faces, ignore them like they ignored you.

As you and Ariel spent your last night together packing, you couldn't help but smile. In these two months with her, you lived more than you had in your entire life.

When you boarded the plane back to Gotham, you were different. You were someone new, someone who had tasted freedom and wasn’t sure if she could ever go back. The Waynes had no idea what was coming for them, but you were ready. The game had shifted, and you were about to play it all the way to the end.

Taglist:

@strwberryglass @lilithquillete @delias-stuff @bellatrixmld @damainwayneisthebestrobin @kittzu @lilyalone @yokesmam @sanjisluvbot @facelessisnthere @dollwhite @superstarbucks

@angelunatic @littledollete @cutelittlesugarfairy @darbystrange @sxftiebee @zealous0mouse @trashlanternfish360 @galaxygirlsblog @euphoria-looney @1simpchunkygirl @a-lurking-fae @analuixxy @naturallyspontaneous @horror-lover-69 @pastel-mouse @ladyrosemone @frankie-moon3 @catley1011 @justannie18 @yandereaficionado @ithoughtthinks @asdfghjklgayblog @shadowyknightbeargoth @peche4et3chocolat @boredselkie @rogueofbullshit @iamabeaner @rosesunderthegarden @nommingonfood @ninihrtss @type-ink @iamabeaner @astterrial @awawage @ironsaladwitch @boredselkie @rogueofbullshit @couldeatthatgirlforlunch @rosesunderthegarden @raging-stars @sulleha @s1mppp

[hwonnrinji]

XOXO, UR ANNOYING SPIDEY — M.S.

'' every time i'm walkin' out , i can hear you tellin' me to turn around .ᐣ.ᐟ ''

── • when the friendly neighborhood spider-girl find ways to annoy you, with love of course!

── • fluff , taking care of wounds , kissing (poorly written imo) , one argument (hurt/comfort)

── • thought i'd switch up my style for a min and see how it looks. divider cr: @cafekitsune

── ♪ now playing : sunflower – post malone, swae lee

🕸️ .WEBSTRING. ゜– prologue

"LOOK AT HER! ISN'T SHE SO PRETTY?" hanni points to one of the cheerleaders, totally enamoured by her beauty. frankly, you couldn't care less because you were too busy thinking about a certain ginger cheerleader who was currently missing from the sidelines. hanni notices your distracted behavior and smiles smugly at you. "you miss megan don't you?" she wiggles her eyebrow in amusement like what she said was the funniest thing ever.

you snap your head towards her with a sharp glare, your eyes narrowed and threatening– with no actual malicious intent. "shut up, no i don't. you're getting the wrong idea," you argued. your chin was on the palm of your hand, your elbow resting on your knee. hanni only rolls her eyes and goes back to watching the game.

"what are you thinking of then?" she questions. you merely shrug.

"the cheerleaders are about to perform but she's not here."

"mm, sad you can't see her dance around?" now it was your turn to roll your eyes, your free hand coming up to push her head away. "it's not like that," you say. "i'm gonna go to the bathroom." you got up from the bleachers and left hanni alone to mumble insults by herself. upon entering the restroom, you saw megan trying to get out of a– spider-girl suit? why in the world would she have that?

"shit, shit, i'm gonna be so late," she rambles, unaware of your presence. when she turned around to be met with your face, her eyes widened in shock and her lips parted. "you're not... you're not supposed to see this.."

"you're spider-girl?" you point an accusing finger at her as if she wasn't wearing the suit right in front of your eyes. "i can explain!" megan exclaims. "what's there to explain, you're literally wearing–"

"ok, later! i'm gonna be late to the cheer performance. can you just... help me out of this?" she pleads, holding both of her hands up as she tried to reason with you. "i don't get out of this suit well under pressure."

"...yeah, i-i guess." you walk over to her and began to help her get out of the suit. once she was out, she looks more like a high schooler in her cheer uniform than some superhero saving the city. "i'll pay you back somehow, uh..."

"yn."

"yn! i'll pay the favor back soon," she promised. "you save the city already, there's no need–" you were interrupted by megan.

"no! no, i should! i can, uhm, swing you around the city if you want." the offer was tempting, but with your fear of heights, you weren't exactly sure. "think about it! thank you, again." she stuffs the suit back into her backpack and dashed towards the door. before fully leaving, she pauses and looks back with a smile on her face. "see you around, pretty?"

you almost choked on air when she called you that. it was totally out of the blue! "okay..." you nod. when she finally left, you let out a shaky breath, your hand clamping over your mouth. you can see the pinkish tint of your cheeks through the mirror, and you can feel the warmth and your heart beating through your chest. megan was so smooth for someone with no conscience of their actions, and it somehow made you a blushing mess. "how annoying."

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

🩹 .ADHESIVE. ゜

THREE KNOCKS ON YOUR WINDOW distracted you from your textbooks. it was weird, and fairly creepy, that something was knocking on your window considering how late it was. you grab one of your heavy dictionaries and got up from your seat, holding the book near yourself as you lifted your blinds. it was a dumb move but the person outside was even dumber. "what're you doing here, spidey?" you asked after you opened the window, seeing megan standing there, clutching her side.

"oh? nickname basis already?" megan chuckles, but it sounded weak. she was a coughing fit not even a few seconds later. even breathing made her chest hurt. "you said you're in a medical program right?" you nod, unsure of what megan wanted from you. "can you help me?"

"do you always need help?"

"i'm serious! look!" she shows you the deep cut underneath her hand, blood dripping down her fingers as she held her side. your eyes widened in concern and you immediately pull her in, opening the window wider for her to enter. "what the fuck did you do?" you exclaimed while your eyes took in all of the scrapes and bruises. megan only shrugs, and you fight back every urge to hit her.

"i saved the day?"

"yeah, no shit sherlock. it was rhetorical." not wanting blood to stain your bed, you sat her down on your chair at your desk. fortunately, you kept a first aid box in your drawer. "don't make too much noise. my parents are asleep and they don't need to know spider-girl is in my room."

"you got it, ma'am." her hand came up to do a salute but it was hurting too much to keep it there. "ow.."

"i need this suit off," you said, but the smug grin and teasing look on megan's face makes you want to punch her. "stop with that look. i'm being deadass right now. i can't treat your wounds correctly."

"okay, okay, sorry..." it took about five minutes to get her out of the suit, four minutes longer compared to the first time, mostly due to how she was whining in pain. by the time the suit was off, she was left in a t-shirt and shorts. "jesus, you look like adam sandler," you pointed out.

"was that necessary?" megan frowned.

"no, but it had to be said." you opened the first aid box and grabbed a nearby cloth, making sure it's clean before putting it on her cut and applying slight pressure onto the wound. megan winces in pain, throwing her head back on the chair.

"i'm being as gentle as i can, you crybaby. stay still!" you scolded. when the bleeding was reduced to a minimum, you removed the bloody cloth from her cut, grimacing upon seeing the fabric soaked in red fluid. "oh my god.." you toss the cloth somewhere else, deciding it'll be a future you problem. right now, you're focused on wrapping bandages around her.

you lift her shirt, ordering her to hold it up for you, before grabbing the roll of bandages in the med kit. you unroll it and placed it over her wound, wrapping around her stomach a few times. once done, you got up and went over to your closet, getting one of your oversized shirts for megan– since she was taller than you by a whole lot. you toss her the shirt and turned around to let her change.

"you don't have to turn around, y'know?" she said while putting on the shirt.

"i feel obligated to," you shrugged. "that's stupid," she laughed. "ok, you can turn around now." you turned around to face her but all the air gets knocked out of your lungs. who knew she would look nice in your clothes, let alone look better in it than you do. "what? do i look pretty?" megan taunted.

"yeah– no. what?" you stuttered, blinking a couple times to get your act together. she only chuckles and shake her head, leaning back into the chair. you noticed how her face was pretty messed up and felt the need to take care of that too. "how well do you do with rubbing alcohol?" you ask vaguely. she seemed to have gotten the memo based on how terrified she looked.

"no! no. no. we're not doing that." she tried to protest but you were already soaking a cotton ball with the liquid. "yn..." she begged, clasping her hand together. "you don't have to be so cruel!"

"except for the fact i'm not cruel? you're just whiny." you dab at a cut on her cheek, and a hiss comes through her lips, her fingers gripping onto the arms of the chair to keep herself from whacking your arm away. "spidey, i swear to god if you don't sit still..." your patience was thinning at her squirming, but a part of you couldn't help but feel bad. "come on, i promise it'll be over in a jiffy."

megan was hesitant but eventually nods, giving into your sweet coaxing. over the course of about three minutes, megan felt like she was traveling to and back from hell. the burns of the alcohol was seeping into the cuts around her face, a deep frown implanting itself onto her forehead. "is it done? are we done? am i done?"

"almost." you throw the cotton ball into the trash, taking a mental note to throw away the trash and cloth in the morning. "just a few more small bandaids and you can rest." megan whines as you began to placed tiny bandaids on her wounds, wanting the night to be over with. "there. now, we're officially done."

megan internally cheers but remembered she has to go back home. maybe she could've treated her own wounds at her place instead of being fifteen minutes away from the comfort of her bed. "can i sleep over?" your head snaps towards her, a bewildered look in your eyes. you've never agreed to any of this and only did it out of the kindess of your own heart. so why couldn't you deny her request?

"...yeah. sure. you've had enough on your plate for one night." you went over to your bed, fixing up a couple things to make space for her. you placed a pillow and a blanket on the floor next to your bed. "i'll sleep on the floor."

"what? why? it's your bed," megan argued, getting up from the chair, putting the pillow and blanket back on the bed. "it'll be fine, right?" you couldn't come up with an excuse as to why sleeping in the same bed would be a bad idea, so you gave in. "guess not..." you mumble. you climbed in first, your side pressed against the wall as you tried to keep a reasonable amount of space between you two.

megan giggled and got in afterwards, staying on her side of the bed. there was an awkward moment until megan looks at you and opens her arms. you stared at her in disbelief, but you also wanted to be held by her. "come here," she beckoned. you shake your head and she kept persisting. it went back and forth for a while until megan had enough and pulled you in herself, tucking your head in her chest. "see? was it that hard?" she teased when she felt you melt into her.

"shut up, you're so annoying."

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

💬 .FIRST QUARREL. ゜(suggestive)

MEGAN WAS TOO PROTECTIVE. she was constantly checking up on you during patrol or getting distracted trying to see if you're safe or not, resulting in her getting heavily injured. you were flattered at first, but it has gotten way too out of hand. you couldn't even go out with her not watching your every move from a nearby rooftop or whatnot!

you were walking in the streets, your mind wandering of how you could talk about this to her, ignoring the buzzing of your phone. suddenly, a loud noise roared behind you and a loud stomp made it feel like an earthquake was happening. you turned around to see some funny looking guy in a suit the size of hulk, his vision trained on you.myou swallowed hard, your feet slowly backing up with every step the villain took towards you.

spider-girl swings in a second later, her foot colliding with his face, sending him down. the fall was quite hard since the suit was heavy and practically made out of metal. megan quickly rushed over to you, pulling you into the nearby alleyway. "what're you doing? i texted you multiple times to go somewhere safe!"

"well i didn't see them! so stop blaming me so much!" you snapped, your hands shoving her chest, pushing her back. she moves your hand away a little roughly. "if you checked your phone, you would've!" she argues.

"megan, have you ever thought that you're too protective? because you are! every waking moment is you checking if i'm okay when i am!" you let out a frustrated huff, your hands on your hips. "it's getting annoying."

"i'm just watching out for you! you're a huge target since an enemy saw you with me!" her voice falters for a moment before she recollected herself. "i almost lost you once, and i'm not taking any more risks!" she referred to when you got kidnapped and held hostage, which made you end up in the hospital with serious injuries. you were barely breathing when she found you. "if i had arrived a minute later then, you wouldn't be here right now."

"that was then. spidey, it's been six months–"

"six months or not, it could've happened again today!" she raised her voice, surprising you a little. "you don't know the other universe i've been to, and in every single one of them, you weren't here with me." her resolve was slightly cracking, her chest rising and falling with every sentence she shouted at you. your lips parted in shock, your brain short-circuiting for a hot minute.

"i..." you stammered. you remember her talking about it a while ago, and how it scared her for a long period of time. you knew it was a sensitive topic. your hands cautiously held her face, your thumb rubbing her cheek over her mask. "but i'm here with you, right now, in this universe." she leaned into your touch while listening to your words carefully. "you don't have to worry so much."

"but i have to."

you shake your head, your fingers lifting her mask to only reveal her lips. "no you don't. deep down, if you think i'm safe and sound, then i most definitely am, okay?" you lean in and place a soft, reassuring kiss on her lips. you were about to pull away when megan places her hands on your waist, pulling you closer to her body. your eyes flutter closed and you relaxed into the kiss, your arms wrapping themselves around her shoulders.

you tilt your head to the side as your arms tightened around megan, feeling like there was too much space between you. a small whimper escaped her lips and it drove you crazy. the sound of your lips on each other filled the quiet alleyway. your nails dug into her back when she broke away and trailed down to your neck, her lips peppering featherlight kisses onto the curve of your jaw.

her thumbs snuck its way under your shirt, grazing the soft skin of your stomach. you arched your back a little further, letting her pull you flush against her front. your hands slid down slowly, from her back to her shoulders to her chest, clutching on her suit as you move your head to give her easier access to your neck. until a loud ringing tone from megan's phone broke you two away from each other. megan groans and takes her phone out, seeing it's the police needing her to help clear up the scene and to calm down the civilians.

"well... i gotta go..." she began, looking at you with a knowing look. "but..."

"you know where you should be tonight," you said. she grins and plants another kiss on your lips. "you bet i do."

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

🤍 .ALL YOURS. ゜(slightly suggestive at end)

A SOFT KNOCK AT YOUR WINDOW let you know that megan was outside on the fire escape right outside your room. you smile to yourself, hanging the towel you were using to dry your hair over your chair. you walked over to the window, opening your blinds and lifting the glass upwards.

"hey, ma," megan greeted when you opened the window. she was upside down, her hands holding onto the web at held her up. you only rolled your eyes playfully, your elbows coming to rest on the window frame. "what're you doing here, spidey?" you ask but there was no signs of you wanting her to leave.

"what? can't i see my favorite girl?" her head leaned in and placed a soft, lingering kiss on your lips despite her mask still fully covering her face. you giggle at the absurdity of it all, your hands reaching up to lift her mask to reveal her lips.

"kiss me properly, idiot," you demanded playfully. megan listens and leaned in again, your lips officially connecting with hers. the kiss was tender, gentle– anything you would describe a kiss full of love. when you break away, you could only laugh, your head dipping and your shoulders shaking. "i can't with you being upside down," you chuckled.

"i can get down if you want." she didn't even wait for your answer when she let go of the web and landed on the fire exit with a small thud. you moved aside to let her climb through the window, making sure to make as little noise as possible so you both don't wake up your parents. "how's my angel?" she questions, her arm wrapping around your waist and pulling you into another kiss.

"never been better," you giggled, your head tilting up to meet her lips. "what about my pretty girl? everything alright? no injuries?"

"all clean and safe." she raised her hands up in mock surrender, showing no signs of serious wounds. your smile only widened and you engulf her into a hug. she hugged you back immediately, her arms wrapping around your torso, her hands resting on the small of your back. she buried her nose into your hair, inhaling the scent of your shampoo mixed with your natural calming scent. "you smell so good, baby."

"do i?" you ask, flattered. she nods, her finger brushing away the stray hairs from your face. "i need to dry my hair."

"no, keep it like this. at least for a couple more minutes," she pleaded, smelling your hair again. "it smells really good."

"i can always give you my shampoo."

"mm, i like it better on you." you laugh, your head falling onto her shoulder. "have i ever told you how annoying you are, spidey?" you ask. megan pretends to ponder before lamely putting up her index finger like a nerd. "you have. multiple times. but i'm your annoying spidey, aren't i?"

"mhm," you hum softly, pecking her on the lips. "you're all mine."

"well i hoped i was." she gently places a hand on your chest, pushing back onto your bed. she crawled on top of you right after, her lips already sucking on your neck hungrily. "i'm afraid your hair won't be dry for a while," she murmured, her voice muffled by your skin.

"i'm fine with that."

– fin. –

@cinnamanz @ninguitar @lararajjj i lowk forgot my taglist

[rainydayathogwarts]

hi! you know your best friends with no boundaries fic, I'm literally obsessed and was wondering if you'd consider writing something similar but with Spencer Reid because I'm also obsessed with him🙏🙏 please and thank you (totally understand if not💚)

And they were roommates - Spencer Reid

summary: Contrary to popular belief, Spencer Reid was not touch starved. In fact, there was nothing more he liked than to cuddle with his roommate. wc: 2.4k+ cw: SMUT, roommates/best friends/ lovers dynamics, panty theft (super brief)

Spencer Reid was not a touchy person. His germaphobic nature allowed him to endure very little physical contact with people, whether they were strangers or his family at the behavioural analysis unit in the FBI. However, it was not to say that Spencer Reid was touch starved, for he had one person he could always count on to give him some physical comfort.

You’d been friends with Spencer since university: you were completing your bachelor’s degree whilst the young genius was finishing up his third phd. In an exhausting night at the library, you’d encountered Spencer, and had complained to him about the library’s organisation system. You’d apologised, “These long nights are really wearing my patience.” But Spencer Reid had surprised you. He ranted on to you about statistics, explaining how a library’s organisation can quickly affect the levels of student productivity. You’d smiled, introducing yourself to him with an extended had. Hesitantly, Spencer shook it, only secretly sanitising his hands when you turned away from him. From that day onwards, Spencer Reid became your best friend.

At first, you had respected Spencer’s boundaries, understanding that he was not a touchy man despite your opposing preference. Then, one night, in a flood of emotions, completely wrecked by his mother’s decreasing health, Spencer had broken down in front of you, and you comforted him the only way you knew how. Your hug had taken Spencer by surprise, but the boy didn’t jerk away from you. Instead, he accepted your touch, leaning into your body's comfortable warmth as you ran a hand through his hair, whispering quiet words of comfort. He spent the night curled up in your arms, head dug in the crook of your neck. That was the first time he stayed in your dorm, and many similar nights followed.

Now, you and Spencer shared an apartment whilst he worked for the bau and you worked a part time job at the University of Virginia, where you were completing your masters degree. Your apartment held two cozy bedrooms, but at this point it was just for show, because you spent most nights cuddled up together on the sofa, your body laying nearly flat over his. The jingle of Spencer’s keys on the other side of your front door gave his entrance away, and you leaped up from your spot on the couch to greet him at the door. Spencer jumped when his eyes landed on you, and he had to readjust his hold on the plastic grocery bag he carried to make sure he didn’t drop it. He hugged you with one arm, letting you take the bag from him as he took his shoes and coat off, leaving them both at the entrance.

“Check in the bag.” He called out as he followed you into the living room. Peeking in the bag, you gasped, seeing the box of microwavable popcorn inside. “Movie night?” You questioned, looking out for Spencer’s reaction. He was smiling widely, nodding proudly with his chest puffed up, cheeks rosy. “I thought we could watch that film you’d mentioned the other day? With Anne Hathaway?” He was taken aback by the tight hug you’d pulled him in, whispering “Oh, you’re the best.” Spencer nervously laughed, resting both hands on your waist.

“Why don’t you get changed and I can take care of the rest?” Spencer nodded, pressing a single kiss on your forehead. You swallowed thickly, turning away from him so he wouldn’t see the giddy look on your face, face hotly flushing. With the popcorn in a bowl and the movie ready on the television, you cozied up on the couch with a blanket, putting your laptop away. Spencer was back in the living room in no time, hopping on the couch right next to you and throwing his arm around your shoulder, tugging you into his chest. Draping your legs over his lap, Spencer put a cold hand on your thigh, and you dug your face into his chest, breathing in his familiar scent.

Spencer ran his hand up and down your leg, creating a row of chills across your skin wherever he left his touch. A shiver went down your spine, and Spencer quickly glanced down at you, mumbling “Are you cold?” Your eyes widened, unsure of how to tell him that no, you were not cold. In fact, your body was warming up relatively quickly from his touch. You shook your head silently. Spencer nodded at you, bringing you closer to him, his hand around your shoulders travelling down to your waist.

Silently deliberating, Spencer stared ahead at the screen, his heart thumping loudly in his chest. Spencer wasn’t dumb. In fact, he was the single smartest person he knew, and it didn’t take a genius to decode the messages you were sending him. Spencer ducked down, digging his head in the crook of your neck, and you immediately brought a hand up to string in his soft curls. The rim of his glasses poked your neck uncomfortably, but you didn’t want to disturb him, a feat that was quickly rewarded with a soft kiss in the crook of your neck. Your eyes shot open in surprise, breath hitching in your throat, but you didn’t want to startle Spencer or make him think you weren’t enjoying this. Because, god, you were.

Your eyes fluttered shut when he kissed you again, lips parting as a satisfied breath escaped your lungs. “Is this okay?” Spencer asked against your skin, his teeth grazing over your pulse point. You gasped, nodding quickly, your thighs unconsciously squeezing shut to soothe the throb between your legs. Spencer, with his hand still on your thigh, felt the movement, but he decided to tease for a moment longer, shutting his eyes as he softly ran his tongue over the spot on your neck, closing his mouth slightly to begin sucking on the area. You tried suppressing the moan that bubbled in your chest, but it was a clearly miserable attempt because Spencer’s grin was prominent against your skin, and he finally unhid his face from you.

Spencer pushed you back slightly so you laid flat on the couch, moving from under you so he could hover over you, his glasses swinging inches away from his face, barely hanging on by their grip on his ears. Spencer’s lips were bare centimetres away from yours, but he was clearly waiting for the go ahead from you. “Spence?” The boy hummed, leaning in to press a kiss right next to your lips. “This isn’t going to change anything right?” His breath shook, shaking his head as one of his hands softly ran underneath your shirt, causing you to buck your body upwards into his touch.

“No, no it won’t change anything.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

Spencer took your eager hum as a plead for a kiss, so he leaned down, finally pressing his lips to yours. It was like a primal need in him was unleashed, a guttural groan coming out of his throat. Both your hands were instantly cupping his face and pulling him closer to you, parting your mouth further as Spencer sucked on your tongue. You whimpered, one hand travelling down to snake under his jumper. Spencer shuddered, a broken moan escaping his lips. He desperately lowered his hips down onto yours, driving them forward to grind against yours. Spencer broke the kiss, instantly amplifying the moans escaping your lips. “This won’t change anything,” You started, and Spencer reinforced that with a nod of his head. “So fuck me properly, Spence.”

Spencer gasped at your words, his hips unexpectedly bucking into yours, where you felt every ridge of his covered cock. “You-really?” You pushed Spencer away by the chest, observing his face, the colourful light coming from the lit screen reflecting the redness on his face. Your roommate sat back on his knees, watching as you sat up, crawling towards him and forcing him on his back, falling on fluffy pillows.

You climbed over Spencer, sitting on his lap and tugging his pyjama pants down. Spencer watched you wordlessly, adjusting his glasses to sit straight on his face. He finally found the courage to hook his fingers into the band of your shorts and panties, encouraging them down your legs. You watched his reaction, amused at the open-mouthed, wide-eyed, dilated pupil look he was carrying on his face. “Spence?” His head snapped towards you, face flushing impossibly darker at the idea of being caught admiring your body. It was almost enough to distract him from the way your fingers wrapped around his cock over his boxers. His lips bucked into yours, gasping loudly as his fingers tightly gripped your hips.

Leaning forward to press your weight against Spencer’s chest, you kicked your shorts and panties off your legs before sitting back down on his lap. “Can I take these off?” You asked, playing with the elastic band of his trousers. Spencer nodded, a pleading look in his eyes. You giggled, leaning down to press a chaste kiss on his lips, and the second you pulled away, Spencer’s torso was lifting off the couch, eagerly chasing your lips. “Please.” He begged, hips bucking into your hand. You didn’t know if he was asking for another kiss or for you to finally take off his trousers, so you did both, reconnecting your lips as you lowered his boxers.

Spencer sighed in relief, using his tight hold on your hips to drag you forward on his body, closer to his cock. You dug your face in Spencer’s neck, kissing him teasingly, but Spencer impatiently whined, throwing his head back. “Please, please.” Finally, you sunk down onto Spencer’s cock, eliciting a loud moan from him. Your breath hitched and you gasped loudly, saying with a broken voice “I have - have to warn you. I don’t usually get on top.”

Spencer nodded eagerly, immediately thrusting his hips up and rolling you over. You cried out, throwing your head back as Spencer desperately started snapping his hips into you, a certain fervour in his movements. Spencer whined with each thrust of his hips, a breath of air escaping his lips and hitting your face every time his body slammed into yours. A guttural moan dispersed in the air, and immediately, you were pulling Spencer’s face down to yours to desperately press your lips together. Spencer parted his lips to bite your bottom lip, tugging a moan out of your chest. You wrapped your arms over Spencer’s shoulders, forcing him closer to you, and he whined as his arms shook, dropping his weight onto you.

“Sorry,” He whimpered against your lips, “Fuck, I’m sorry.” You wordlessly dismissed his apology, tangling your hand in Spencer’s hair to pull him back into a wet kiss. You heard the creak of his glasses as your faces collided in an eager kiss. Spencer rolled his hips into yours, balancing his weight onto one arm so his second arm could come down to your thigh and pull your leg apart from the other. The new found space allowed Spencer to slide deeper into your cunt, causing you both to moan loudly, your pussy clenching around the wet ridges of his cock. “Oh god.” You cried, words coming out muffled as Spencer glided his tongue against yours

“Please Spence.” You begged as Spencer separated his kiss from yours to look deeply into your eyes, a hand coming up to push the hair away from your face, stubbornly sticking to the glistening sweat. “’Re you close?” You hummed, digging your nails into Spencer’s shoulders as you dug your head into the couch cushions. Spencer smiled from above you, watching as your face contorted into pleasure, failing to squeeze your thighs together for more friction. Spencer groaned, head falling into the crook of your neck and pressing kisses on your skin as a hand trailed down to rub circles on your clit.

Spencer bit down on your neck just as you let out a high-pitched moan, whimpering when his teeth sunk into your skin. Your eyes shut tightly as a shock of pleasure darted up to your abdomen, but Spencer caressed your cheek, begging “Look at me when you cum, please.” Your eyes shot open at his words as pleasure overtook you. You don’t know what triggered your orgasm, Spencer’s pleading tone or the use of the endearing term ‘baby’, but it had you coming anyway, your loud cries filling the air.

Spencer grunted as you came, his pelvis stilling, cock buried inside you. Spencer felt his dick throb as you clenched around him, trying not to cum as you loudly cried his name out. Spencer was only pulling out when you slumped back against the couch, a satisfied sigh leaving your lips. Spencer wrapped a hand around his cock, but you put a hand over his, prompting him to let go of himself. You gently squeezed the base of Spencer’s cock, beginning to stroke him, but there was no need: he was already coming, white, thick ropes of cum shooting out of his cock and onto your tank top.

Spencer sat back on his knees, catching his breath softly as he watched you watch him, a coy smile on your face. You giggled nervously, and Spencer grinned, crawling over you before lowering himself onto you, still hovering over you as he began kissing you. “So, same time tomorrow?” Spencer joked, moving off you and finding your shorts on the floor, carefully helping you slip your feet into the holes of your shorts. “Mhm, doesn’t have to be tomorrow.” You teased, standing up and walking out of the living room. You turned to look at Spencer one last time before rounding the corner to enter the hallway, leaving Spencer alone in the living room to blankly stare at the screen, watching cluelessly as the two characters began arguing, trying to distract himself from the way his cock hardened once more.

Spencer scanned the room, jumping up when he spotted your abandoned panties on the floor. He quickly pocketed them before rushing to follow you towards your bedroom. “What did you say about not tomorrow?” He breathlessly asked as he opened your bedroom door. You spun around to look at him, putting a look of fake shock on your face as he gasped, staring at your now naked body, eyes glued to your tits.

Spencer shut the door, approaching you, and it didn’t open again for a very long time.

[teukiemomo]

It is true I didn't follow the US politics before the election. This is just based on what I've seen so far since the election (since like the debate where Trump said questionable things about dog and cat eating since that kinda blew up everywhere lol):

As far as I know Fox News is Trump's ass-kisser. CNN is the opposite. NBC, MSNBC are anti Trump's dumb things which are... all Trump's things. I'm not sure what their usual stance is before the election, but during the election it was kinda like Fox News vs. everyone (it still is now). And based on what I've seen so far on Fox News their correspondences sound so... insensitive and delusional I'd immediately question their professionalism and therefore no longer trust whatever excuse they make for Trump.

Late night shows hosts are very against Trump. They dissed him every time I saw them on youtube and this is like every night? Some of them do sound unserious so people may disregard them, but Jon Stewart and John Oliver are 2 people whom I think really look into the issues like Project 2025, gun issue, inflation, crime etc. and bring evidences to the table, lots of times, to expose Trump. Both are also very critical of Dems on certain issues but often pointed out how Trump is always the worse option. With that much exposure to Trump's darkness (and, like, with proofs) I honestly thought the result would go the other way. Unless there's something I missed.

Twitter - I know there's an agenda pushed there 'thanks to' Elon Musk but somehow most of the posts showing up on my 'For You' are against right-wing extremists, like I don't even follow, like or retweet any political tweets that should make the algorithm swing that way (and gosh I WISH they could've done the same for my favourite artist, I like him and somehow they only show tweets talking shit about him, like Elon DO BETTER PLZ?) Anyways, my point is, even on a platform that is so blatantly right-wing, I'm still able to see that many tweets (with actual proofs, logical arguments etc.) criticise Trump, warn about Trump and his ppl, etc. that reach huge amount of engagement on Twitter, I was kinda under the impression that whatever right-wing propaganda on Twitter wasn't really working that well.

Trump is just... idk after those 4 years of bad-mouthing everything everywhere, fumbling Covid terribly, leaving White House with a coup, getting into another election running his mouth about dog eating cat eating, 'i'mma do this to women don't matter if like it or not', 'criminals coming from prisons and insane asylums', convicted felony, convicted rapist, proposal to get rid of Dep of Education, performing oral thingy with the mic on stage (??????), etc. Evidences of him doing stupid shit, saying stupid shit are like everywhere, and most things he said can be easily proven a lie by a simple google search. People may be disappointed at the Dems and hate the establishment, but how a man like Trump can be a better choice, under any circumstance, seems... baffling. Lots of ppl seem to choose him for the economy, which actually can be debunked by looking at other countries after Covid and Russia-Ukraine; inflation was a common issue, and the stats showed it's already gone down considerably at the time of the election. To me it just seems very easy to figure out all the arguments Trump used are pretty bullshit: no pro free speech person will bash and threaten to harm people who don't talk nicely about him, no 'America-first' person will ever spread lies and lead a coup, and never trust a multi-billionnaire when he says he's all for the working class.

I'm not saying the US mainstream media is not to blame, or the Dems is not to blame. They should've done a better job, but at the same time, the US is one of the countries where it's easier to see through propaganda. Freedom to access information and opinions from a wide range of perspectives with little restriction is a privilege some other countries don't even have.

I'm not from the US, I only made this comment based on what I've seen, and I'm pretty sure I'm not the only one outside of America who experienced this bewilderment. But if I've missed something, I'm willing to learn.

Gotta admit the headline is a banger.

[ohnoitstbskyen]

Was having a conversation with a friend about Old League lore. It got me curious, is Garens character still basically analogous to a genocide general, what with the mage hunt and all that, or has that largely been retconned away? I'm as familiar with league lore as I used to be.

It's more or less as it was. Mageseeker and the Lux comic have attempted to cast him as a reluctant soldier trying to resist bad orders to the best of his ability, but they haven't ever actually reckoned with any of his culpability and hypocrisy. It's one of those situations where the actions he is depicted as undertaking are astonishingly heinous when you think about them for even two seconds, but the story is invested in making sure you know that he personally feels very bad about doing it, and that in the name of nuance and fairness you should therefore be willing to be sympathetic with him.

Which. Y'know.

Asking us to hold sympathy for a guy who is dragging Extremely Obvious Metaphor For Queer People off to concentration, forced conversion and extermination camps is... I mean it was always a bit of an ask to make of a literate audience, but it's becoming ever more so as Current Year drags on.

idk I just don't have a lot of patience, in the present moment, for stories that try to leave heroic narrative space for people who hold pathetic loyalty to bad institutions, and commit atrocities in their name while shaking their head the whole time so everyone knows they mournfully disagree with what is currently being done, by them.

And if Garen was actually meant to be understood as some of the lowest scum of the earth: someone who knows better and does evil anyway, then that would make for an interesting story, but he's pretty consistently framed as a tragic figure doomed by his noble loyalty to a higher ideal, and oh don't you relate to his deep and complex struggle, such difficult moral questions he faces.

It feels telling of the audience that the story is written for, and the perspective it is written from.

[strawberrystepmom]

in the spirit of transitional seasons and new-er new beginnings, i present to you - an astrological event.

for the entire month of february, i will be accepting the following zodiac asks:

sexuality readings - if you provide me with your moon, sun, mars, neptune, and venus i will give you my take on how the stars influence your passion, love, and sex. note: these will have many nsfw elements. if you are uncomfortable with me making these kinds of assessments, please avoid this category.

special little guy (gn) charts - if you provide the birth date and some basic information about your fav, i will give you an at a glance of their big five minus rising. (sun, moon, mars, venus)

romance compatibility - if you provide you + your fav's venus and moon, i will give you a little run down of your at a glance compatibility and recommend an activity that may be a good way to get some quality time in.

ring or fling - are you in a little enemies to lovers arc with your fav? not sure if you're feeling it? let the stars help you decide to keep 'em or chuck 'em. give me their big four (sun, moon, mars, venus) and yours as well and i will give you the reasons why things may not work and you can decide from there. note: i am going to be honest, if you don't want an honest answer please avoid this category.

and additionally,

general zodiac questions - my inbox tends to stay open for these anyway but i wanted to make sure to lay it all out...it is just fine to ask me about the basics! that's what i'm here for! but i will be prioritizing the special categories up above.

now the fine print:

18+ adults only. i block all ageless and minor blogs that come into contact with me.

my recommended resource for running your own chart/your favs chart is cafeastrology but i gladly accept charts from any source if you have a preferred one.

any asks sent regarding astrology prior to february 1st will be answered between the 1st and 28th.

during this event, i am going to prioritize people who have not received readings from me during prior astrology answering sessions. you are more than welcome send them in if you have before, i welcome it actually, but im trying to keep things as fair as i can.

please be patient! i am one person answering these asks. they take a great deal of time for me - energetically especially. i do my best to be thorough and thoughtful so be courteous and use your manners, rudeness is the quickest way to get ignored by me.

please redact any information you do not want me to publicly post! i will be posting these asks with my responses, if you send me a screenshot of your chart please redact your birth time and the location for your safety.

[joocomics]

ಬ cross the line: part two

read part one here

pairing: professor!soobin x student!fem!reader

genre: smut — 18+ wc: 3.1k

summary: an accidental peek at your phone causes a shift in the way your professor behaves in your presence which results into the two of you facing your perverse nature

contains: university au, switch!soobin, soft!dom!reader, car sex, exhibitionism kink, unprotected sex, dirty talk, praise, pet names, brief orgasm control, handjob (m!rec), size kink (big dick!soobin), creampie, light choking (m!rec)

[ txt masterlist | general masterlist ]

Today you skipped classes.

Skipping isn’t something you do unless you’re not feeling well or something urgent comes up… or unless it’s your best friend’s birthday. You have a whole program planned for the day which consists of things the two of you do every year on this special day. It’s a tradition you stick to and take very seriously no matter how old you get.

After dinner you pre-game with the rest of your friends at her place and afterwards all of you head to her favorite club.

Around an hour later, as you blend in with the crowd to dance under the flashing lights, you notice the last person you expect to run into at any night club really - your professor Choi Soobin. He’s wearing a black buttoned up shirt, nothing new you haven’t seen him wear before, but you're surprised to notice that he's not wearing his usual glasses.

It’s kind of funny that you see him here since today you were supposed to have lectures with him. Instead of hiding as some may do if they find themselves in this situation, you decide to say hi.

There’s no harm in doing so, right?

“I'll be right back.” You tell your friend after you drop her hand to follow after him.

Not a minute later, you're standing next to each other at the bar. You wait for him to finish ordering before announcing your presence.

“Hi.”

Soobin's eyes flicker with surprise when he turns around. For a short moment he’s tongue-tied.

“Hi.” He smiles - a small, polite and a little bit coy curve of his lips. “Enjoying your night?”

“A lot,” you smile back, “it's my best friend's birthday.”

“Really?” He exclaims. “It's one of my friend's birthday too.”

“Sweet.” You chuckle as the usual formality between you slowly melts away.

He looks different without his glasses, you notice; his features are sharper and somehow more striking in the dim flickering lights of the club. His attractive face has a slight glow that keeps you staring, and his usually neatly done hairstyle is a bit untidy, but those details only make him even more appealing to the eyes.

“Does your friend's birthday have something to do with you missing classes today?” He raises an eyebrow, leaning in a bit to compete with the pulsing music.

The question doesn't come off awkward though, his tone sounds more casual than you're used to.

“Yeah, it does,” you reply with slightly nervous laugh. “You’re not going to hold it against me, are you?”

Unintentionally or not, you end up locking eyes. Soobin's smile widens slightly before he looks away first.

“I'll let it slide.”

There's an undeniable tension between the two of you though. You can't pinpoint its exact nature yet, but it's there, reminding you of your last encounter, especially as the conversation trails off and you start wondering if you should make your exit.

“I'm sorry if I made things awkward between us the other day.” You speak up at once.

“No, no…” Soobin immediately shakes his head, staring back down at the sparkling counter. “Don't worry about it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, and uhm...” he pauses for a second, trying to form his words properly. “It will stay just between us.”

“Thank you.” You smile with appreciation. You doubt he’d ever tell anyone about what you do online, but it’s still good to hear him confirm that your secret is safe with him. “I would never cross the line and put your career at risk.”

Soobin peers into your eyes, trying to figure you out, but he seems to keep failing. All he can see into your shiny gaze is an irresistible temptation making it a challenge for him not to risk it all first... right there and then.

The bartender brings his orders and pretty much saves Soobin from blurting out something he might regret afterwards. He cannot allow his intrusive thoughts to win again. Eventually, what he ends up saying is still just as risky as the rest of them though.

“Will I see you around?”

“Maybe,” you chirp playfully; the slightly dubious tone of his voice excites you.

“Do you have a ride home? I can drive you.” He asks with a soft grin, provoked by your teasing. After noticing your eyebrow raise, he adds to assure you: “I don’t drink.”

So without much consideration, you agree, and few hours later you meet at the parking lot. This is definitely not how you expected your night to end; neither did your professor Choi Soobin.

“Thank you so much for the ride.” You unbuckle your seatbelt and take a look at Soobin. “You're the best professor l've ever had, do you know that?”

“I don’t think you’ve mentioned it before.” He glances down at his lap; slight heat rises to his cheeks.

“You are,” you assure him. Your voice goes lower as you take a second to admire his side profile; to enjoy his clumsy attempts at hiding his flusteredness from you.

Then you lean closer, breathing in the musky aroma of his cologne; it's mixed with a sharp scent of cigarette smoke, and despite not being a smoker you still enjoy it. It reminds you of the fact that you finally have him in your hands - outside the usual university building where all he thinks about is work and strict rules and confidentiality.

He's not the all-knowing professor anymore, he's just... Soobin.

“You...” Soobin murmurs, but his train of thought fades away as you're now centimetres apart. You limit the distance between you rapidly and it's not in his ability to prevent it.

“Me? What about me?” You ask as your noses almost touch.

The air inside the car grows thicker, hotter, and Soobin struggles to swallow as he feels a warm pressure bubbling up. His hand moves to caress the side of your face that he’s staring at with half-lidded eyes.

“You’re so pretty.”

“Choi Soobin,” you gasp through a whisper that turns into a soft sinister giggle. The satisfaction you get from his weakness is evident in the way your glossy lips curl as you rub circles on his chest. “This is inappropriate.”

“I know,” he sighs, turning his head in the other direction.

You're quick to grip his jaw though. Your nails sink into his cheeks and you keep them there until he’s looking into your lustful eyes.

“You never told me to stop. Are you going to do it now?”

As you anticipate a response, your hand travels lower till it reaches his belt. You ghost over his crotch, pleased to find out he's growing hard because of your attention.

“No,” Soobin shakes his head almost like he's defeated. His next words come out rushed. “I can't tell you to stop, I don't want to.”

“What is it that you want?” You ask, rubbing the tent in his jeans.

Your gaze drops to his lap once his big hand moves on top of yours; it puts some pressure as his hips simultaneously jerk upwards like an invitation; like a sign of pleading. For some reason, hearing him straight up say the obvious still surprises you.

“You.” He utters and his airy voice softens as he repeats it one more time.

“Mmm…” you humm delighted then unzip his jeans to free him. “It's fun crossing the line with you, Choi Soobin.”

You almost cuss from how amazed you are by his size when you see it.

He's long and thick; heavy as you embrace it in your grip. The look of the nice girth alone makes you swallow down whimpers, it’s so arousing; a perfect fit for every possible fantasy you can think of.

“I've never seen one like this...” You admit as you twirl your fist around his thick base with precision; slowly so you can enjoy the feel of it. “Soo big and heavy…”

Unintentionally, Soobin’s mind fogs up with memories of your sopping wet pussy. The idea of you possibly struggling to fit him inside makes him shudder pleasantly.

You spit inside your palm. You want to make your motions smoother and easier so you make sure to spread the moisture evenly before you tease his tip.

The moment you drag your fist Soobin takes your face in his hands and kisses you.

The kiss is slow at first, testing as he’s heedful of your reaction. His lips move cautiously against yours, making you feel like you’re going to melt.

You're already so enticed by him that when the first groan of pleasure slips through his mouth it’s like butterflies burst out into your tummy. You keep circling the sensitive spot that seems to double the sensation, wanting to get more sounds out of him. Simultaneously you sneak your tongue in between his lips, rolling it around his own to deepen the kiss.

Encouraged by the fist he forms in your hair, you quicken your dominant hand while aiming for a powerfully steady rhythm.

“How does it feel, hm?” You ask when his lips detach from yours at once.

Lightheaded, Soobin takes a second to respond as his breathing catches up.

“So good,” he breathes out then almost goes speechless from the way you pull on his bottom lip with your teeth. “It feels soo good... fuck—“

“You never told me if you enjoyed peeking at my porn.” You say casually before chuckling at his short, quick whimper. You drastically change the speed and Soobin quivers. “How much did my professor actually see from behind my shoulder? I'm curious.”

It’s true, you want to know so bad, and you want to hear it in details, but you know the chance to get such is low. Soobin would be too nervous to share and it’s not like he’s calm enough to talk properly right now.

Your gentle palm squeezes his balls as your lips trace their way up to his ear. He grunts at the tickling sensation meanwhile his hand keeps roaming around your thigh, not having any specific direction because he’s losing more and more control over his own actions.

“I want to know, tell me.” You pout, dropping his cock and backing away.

Soobin sighs, completely dismissing the question when he realises you’re exposing your bare chest to him. His eyes, widening, move in different directions as you tug down the small straps of your dress; his pupils dilate excitedly once he lays attention on the arousing shape of your breasts, the hardened tips of your nipples. He’s staring at you like he’s still trying to accept the fact that this is actually happening.

When you drag your skirt up to your waist is when he starts murmuring an answer.

“I saw you briefly scrolling through your account… nothing more.” Soobin’s hands reach out to get a hold of your waist as you straddle him in the small space. He breathes heavily as you both adjust before he grips his cock to glide his swollen tip against your folds, feeling how wet you are. “And the video y-you…” his voice struggles as he finally bumps into your small squelching entrance. “... just a second from the video you showed me.”

“Soobin—“ you whine quietly from the sudden strech; it feels thrilling with a hint of sweet pain as your tight walls try to accept more than just the head of his dick.

“But I’ve been thinking of you way before that… shit—“

You really want to focus on what he’s saying, but it’s difficult when you’re in the middle of experiencing such strong sensation.

Another inch enters you and you whimper overwhelmingly, squeezing your eyes shut.

“Fuck, it hurts!”

“Slowly, okay,” Soobin whispers in a rush against your open mouth; hands digging into your flesh to control your movements up and down; to control how much of him you should take before you drop all the way down. “It will get easier, keep going… just like this.”

Flushed, flesh to flesh, the two of you begin to feel how you easen up around him. Your gummy walls welcome him more comfortably, pulsing with desire against his veiny girth.

Your head falls forward as the euphoria begins to race through your veins with each deeper gliding of his cock.

“Good,” Soobin’s hot breath brushes against your face; forehead pressed against yours as you drown in the dim streaks of street lights. “Stay like this for me…”

You love teasing him with your dirty talk, and you expected to tease him even more after seeing him get fucked out so quickly, but you can’t deny… the way he speaks at you like this is giving you a real buzz.

“Taking me so well,” he whispers against your heated forehead; placing the praise like a kiss.

The cautious moves of his hips result in his tip meeting your cervix gently; the sweet thrill makes you grind against him for more though, clenching at his shirt with your hands. In the meantime, his grip on your ass eases up, eventually crawling onto both sides of your swaying hips.

“Fuck, fuck—“ Soobin’s groans fly out of his mouth one by one, faster than before to indicate the rapid rise of his arousal. “Such a good pussy, fuck.”

You feel his secure grip strengthening again as you quicken your motions. Now that the pain is gone, you can focus on the new flow of blissful pleasure while regaining your previous control.

“You know,” you speak up for the first time in a while as you build on the good rhythm, “I get all kinds of messages and comments, but… nothing can compare to this.”

Soobin’s weakening gaze alternates between your eyes and lips, hypnotised by the appeal you radiate. You’re incredibly tight around him, just like he imagined you’d be, and he cherishes every pulse and drag of your gummy walls.

Something inside his chest flutters as he registers your words; he likes the idea of being the one to bring you the most memorable pleasure.

“You like how it feels?” His hands crawl up your back, and when you nod in agreement, they move to cup your boobs. “Then keep going, make yourself feel good, baby.”

“Soobin…” Your eyes roll back from the growing stimulation; it’s coming from so many different places including his fingertips sinking into your plush breasts. “… love your cock so m-much—“

Your clit rubs nicely against him, enhancing the arousal as you move back and forth like you do so often on your pillow.

“It’s so deep inside me…”

“Yeah, pretty,” Soobin groans in sync with you the moment you speed up with new type of greed. “Ride it, just like that.”

And at this certain moment, he realises that he’s putting your pleasure over his own.

“I want to feel how this pretty pussy is gonna cum around my cock,” he murmurs in bliss. “Use it, baby.”

“Yeah?” You sigh the moment your lips slide up with excitement. “Are you letting me use it as one of my toys?”

“I am,” Soobin answers without hesitation. His hands slip down to rest at your hips that slow down a bit.

You were not expecting such quick reply from him and your eyes concentrate on his face. Your one hand presses against the car window as you lift yourself up a little.

“Gonna let me bounce on it for as long as I want? Whenever I want?”

“Shit—“ Soobin’s deep voice trembles in a tone you’ve never heard from his calm voice before. Your entrance, stretched out and clenching, is teasing only the tip of his cock and he cannot bare the sensation as well as he wants. “Yes, pretty, whatever you need…”

Right now, he needs you to sink back down as soon as possible. He's not even on the alert of his surroundings anymore, his mind is preoccupied with you and the relish you cause.

“I’m one lucky girl.” You chuckle through a heavy sigh, swallowing the rest of him once again; the second you grip on the base Soobin’s brows knit together as if he’s struggling from feeling this amazing. “Having such a good smart boy, letting me use him however I like…”

Soon enough, you start to bounce wanting to feel the head of his cock hit your g-spot harder.

Your muscles tense, forcing you up and down as you hold onto Soobin’s shoulder with your free hand which eventually shifts around his neck. Cautiously, you apply just enough amount of pressure to excite him. The moment you tighten your grip, his on your lower waist tightens too.

You feel his adam's apple moving as he gulps before his mouth remains wide open in awe; allowing a chain of throaty moans to escape and cloud up your mind with their arousing tune. They mix with the lewd sounds of your ass crashing against his lap and overpower your panting.

Soobin's eyes, dazed and dark with lust, slowly make their way to your scrunching face though they can barely focus on just one spot as everything about you fascinates him.

“Fuck, I'm—” Your whimper interrupts your speech as your knees are close to giving up; but stopping isn't something you're considering, not when you can tell something is about to burst inside him too. “I'm so close!”

Another memory invades Soobin's mind - you moaned the same thing in that video of yours, but the thrill from hearing it now, in person, because you're getting off on his cock cannot compare.

“Cum around me, please,” he suddenly grips your wrist; not to easen up your hand around his neck, but simply to have something to hold onto. “Please, I want to feel you.”

“I want to feel you too...” You say breathlessly, “cum with me, okay?”

Soobin nods before shutting his eyes with a desperate squeeze.

“Hold it,” you utter in a rush while doing the same as your peak approaches more and more, “hold it and cum with m-me...”

Each bounce you make is sloppier than the previous, but the rush is stronger than ever, possessing both of you in overwhelming waves.

The knot of pleasure snaps inside you, making you cry out in the silence of Soobin's car. You ride out your orgasm, quivering with your head thrown back, and you continue the motions as his own climax takes over his body seconds later.

Despite the amazing feeling that settles inside you with the aftermath of your orgasm there's also the feeling that leaves you still hungry for more. This can't be the first and last time you're doing this... You can only hope it won't be.

There’s a part of you that wants to make a mess of Choi Soobin, because you can, and another because it seems like he hasn’t let anyone do such thing to him before; you don’t mind taking that unfamiliar, but very compelling role at all.

And then, there's the most obvious reason of all - you're head over heels for him. And there’s no going back after this.

! please do not repost, copy or translate my works

! please keep in mind that english is not my first language. i apologise for any mistakes i’ve might missed

[draggomon]

This is something I've been working through with my current partner. My therapist referred to me as a "emotional medic".

I would constantly prioritize the safety and boundaries and comfort of EVERYONE else before allowing myself even the barest minimum of self care. I would shut down, constantly, just to keep myself safe.

Any emotions I felt that would be an inconvenience to the people I was with would be shut down and ignored until something broke and I was hurt further.

I developed this after years of being with and around people where, even the most minor of boundary setting or messing up (on either side, them or I) could potentially lead them to huge spirals and multi day long depression / anxiety episodes.

It's something I'm learning to get past. I'm tired of being the medic and I deserve to have people who will give me the benefit of the doubt when I fuck up. Who trust me to act like an adult when they fuck up. Who treat themselves and ME as a adults in an adult relationship.

I remember talking to my therapist about my partner at the time not being an abuser. He was a good guy! Just...anxious....yea?

"You don't have to be a bad person to be an abuser. You're being punished and trained to react in a way that fits him. He can be a good guy and still be taking advantage of you, of manipulating you, of hurting you. Until you stand up, you can't walk the path of healing.

Standing up would inconvenience him, and he has trained you to believe his needs outweighs yours. You need to stand up, or you'll die laying down. "

We deserve better. All of us.

Edit to add some further thinking:

We can all be abusers. You can be an abuser without intending on it. I have a partner, and then I have some people I'm intimate with. I've taken advantage of them before without meaning to. I've manipulated them before without meaning too.

You can't make yourself a safe person to exist around until you make it ok to be confronted and questioned. When my partner or "pseudo partners" come to me saying I made them feel a certain way, then it starts a dialogue.

I call this "coming to the table". I make sure the table I keep is calm. If I need to calm down, I'll leave and do so. I won't punish or minimize, but I also will allow myself space to feel my emotions and share my experiences.

I can hurt one of the people in my circle, and it doesn't make me a bad person. But the fact that I can recognize that hurt, make space for it, and can do so without self punishing or spiraling, means they can focus fully on themselves and what they need. That means it's safe to say no, to say they don't wanna prioritize me. It's safe to say I'm not the only thing keeping them together.

I'm wanted, not needed. Which is scary AF. It also is why our relationships are so strong.

It's not just about your ability to not spiral during the minor things. It's you showing love and care during the dark times, without punishing yourself. It's humanizing and loving yourself even after you've hurt someone, so that they don't have to take care of you or minimize themselves.

It's allowing yourself to be strong enough to realize that you're not powerful enough to ruin someone's life so easily, that you're scared and sometimes you hurt people. That you can still love those people, and loving them means confronting that you hurt them by saying "I hurt you. I love you and didn't mean to. I'd like to make space for your healing, however that looks like. I got me, I won't take it personally. We're still a team."

And you gotta trust them to not lash out. To not use this hurt as an excuse to hurt you. Because when we are afraid, when we feel alone or betrayed, and we feel hurt, we attack th3 thing that hurt us. It's in our nature. We're still animals.

If you can't be fully honest when hurt, then you'll retreat and barriers will start to be built. Once built, it's hard to tear that shit down. Make it so that it's safe for others to be fully honest with you, even when both of you are hurt.

Btw when someone says "don't talk to me like that, I don't know you" the normal thing to do is apologize for the perceived overfamiliarity and correct the behavior. Just in case anyone was wondering

[girlsworldillusion]

so this is what falling in love is like?

Ominis Gaunt x Gryffindor Reader

Summary: “Ominis, what — what are you trying to say?”

He breathes your name huskily, and you feel your cheeks tingle with the heat of a fresh flush of blush.

“I’m in love with you,” he says earnestly, more whispering the words than saying them, his hand tightening in yours a fraction more, and all you can do is stare at him in utter shock.

Where a night of studying at the Undercroft grows into something much bigger than you expected.

Rated: Explicit (+18)

Word count: 9k

Artist: (x) @oladcnfthb

Author's Note: My first fanfic of the HP universe. Not the last, if I may have a choice. I hope you all like it, your comments will be greatly appreciated by this poor writer.

English is not my first language, I apologize for any mistakes you may find.

"And then I heard this girl, Grace Withey, or Whitney, I'm not sure now," the boy mutters thoughtfully before dismissing the question with an exquisite wave of his hand, "either way, she was asking if he had time to offer 'some much needed and much appreciated guidance in the Care of Magical Creatures', like she said. She claimed to be a disaster in that class, though it seemed like she was doing quite well before he arrived, if you ask me."

You bite your lip to hold back a laugh, but keep your eyes closed as you listen to Ominis report the detailed case of the latest romantic incident that simply fell into Sebastian's lap - emphasis on report, as this could never be classified as gossip. Ominis Gaunt has never stooped to the social stratagem that is the art of spreading gossip, as he himself makes a point of reminding you every time that possibility is remotely suggested in some witty comment.

After a long study session, you were both lounging carefree on the opulent burgundy couch set against one wall; a gaudy luxury that you fought tooth and nail to add to the cold expanse of the undercroft so that you could rest while you did some reading, or simply when you were too tired to return to your dormitories. Two tall stacks of books rested on the low table in front of you, some even open and scattered across the carpet on the floor, as well as piles of half-scribbled parchment, inkwells and quills. The flickering flames arranged in the braziers hanging on the walls provided an orange illumination that was both functional and comforting to the eyes. In the cushioned space between you two lay the remains of two boxes of Chocolate Frogs - his clearly opened in a much more elegant manner than yours.

Outside the castle the snow fell without stopping, freezing everything around with its cloud of crystals, but inside the walls you felt safe and warm.

"She was clearly interested in more than just his guidance on creature care."

Despite the suggestive tone, there's a soft smile on your lips as you says this, your feet swinging languidly on the tabletop where they're propped up on top of each other.

"No surprise there." He snorts beside you, a sullen quality to his tone that definitely wasn't there a few seconds ago. "This sort of thing always happens to him. And oh, he's so pompous about it too, really insufferable. It's obvious by now that he can have any girl in school, even some boys I dare say, and he's amply and unfortunately very aware of it. It's annoying that he has that kind of power, if you ask me."

This time you can't help the amused chuckle that escapes your lips, perfectly conjuring behind closed eyelids the sullen pout the man is surely making just by his tone of voice.

"Careful now, Gaunt, some poor unsuspecting person who hears you speak like that might interpret your words as jealousy." Your tone oscillates between a weak attempt at reprimand and amusement, enjoying poking the poor man. "What's wrong, haven't you been getting enough attention from the student masses?"

It was a teasing comment, intentional in the aim of maintaining the fun and pleasant atmosphere that surrounded them. But when a few good seconds pass without him saying anything in return, you slowly allow your eyes to open, staring at the Slytherin sitting next to you.

The first thing you notice is how tense his body is; shoulders rigid and head turned away from you, hands clenched tightly on his thighs. He looks uncomfortable in every tiny line of his tall body. He's not denying what you suggested and you've teased him enough times in the past to know that he should have done so already if he disagreed with your words.

Oh

"I would find such a notion rather unbelievable if that were the case, of course, since this is you we're talking about." You murmur slowly when it becomes obvious he's not going to respond, watching his every reaction intently as you fish for information.

"What—wait, what are you talking about?" He looks a little dazed, tilting his head toward you just a fraction, but you continue your train of thought, taking advantage of the fact that you have his attention once more.

"Well, you're Ominis Gaunt. Not only do you have all that physical representation of cold elegance and an aura of royalty that your House so annoyingly likes to impose, but you're also a member of one of the most notorious families in the wizarding world. It's hard to believe that there isn't a line of lovestruck hearts out there just waiting for an opportunity to date you. I bet you're just as popular as Sebastian these days - you're just more discreet about it than him, obviously."

Your comment, although honest in every word, is made innocently, with no apparent justification for any fuss - just sincere curiosity about the question raised. And that's why you're taken aback by his reaction to you. Even though he remains frozen where he sits with all the grace and refinement of an enchanted lord from a fairy tale, the poor man's cheeks burn with such an intense blush that you quickly find yourself worried that he's about to have some kind of silent breakdown.

"I-it's not quite like that." He straightens his already perfect posture as he brings a limp fist to his lips, covering his sudden stutter with a subtle cough that, in and of itself, carries more pomp than you could ever achieve in your entire life - which, of course, only confirms what you've just said. "While my family is admittedly reputed in the wizarding world, I can assure you that it is not in a good way at all. And it goes without saying that everyone here knows it too. They vacillate between avoiding me as if I've been jinxed with a repulsive Slugulus Eructo or fearing me as if I'll Avada them at the slightest sign of movement. That in itself is a major romance deterrent, you know. I don't blame them, of course. My family's crimes extend to me through the bloodline, whether I like it or not. It's inevitable, really."

You part your lips, all too ready to interrupt what was proving to be the beginning of another session of misplaced guilt from the Slytherin, when you see him smirking. His pale cheeks are still stained with that pink dust, but his lips are stretched in a mischievous pull that actually disguises his embarrassment for a few seconds.

"Besides, although I am, as you well know, completely averse to the dark practices of the Gaunts, I confess to taking advantage of all that reputation, sometimes. It suits me at some very specific moments."

You tilt your head, giving him your best unimpressed look.

"Oh, I am quite aware of that. Your readiness to use the Gaunts' reputation for your own benefit was especially evident that night when you threatened to terrorize my last generation if I opened my mouth about the Undercroft. You certainly know how to make a good point when you put intention behind it."

It washes the smile from his lips so instantly it's almost comical, leaving behind only a kicked, embarrassed expression, the flush in his cheeks highlighting the constellation of beauty marks on his porcelain skin.

"I - I already said I was sorry about that, I was just -"

"Hey, hey, it's okay, it doesn't bother me anymore. I'm just teasing you." You cut him off with a sly smile. "Anyway, you're not going to get away from the real issue here."

Because, well...you really couldn't stop thinking about the suggestiveness of his previous statement. The possibilities - oh - were running through your brain nonstop. So, against your better judgment, and with your cheeks flush with heat, you find yourself pressing him on it.

"I don't understand what exactly you want to know." He mumbles, trying to cover up his embarrassment with a look of disinterest that is too poor to be taken seriously.

"You...have been with someone before, right?" This time you're deadly direct, no hints or openings for half answers. You had a question and you wanted to clear it up, your embarrassment in uttering such words wouldn't be enough to stop you. "Ah, intimately, I mean."

Obviously, it's not the kind of question that a decent lady would have asked a young man of such high prestige as Ominis Gaunt, you imagine. But after everything you've been through since you started your journey at Hogwarts, you feel bolder than the tolerable standard for young ladies, as if you'd lost some of your subtlety somewhere along the way. But how could you not?

More times than you can remember, you've been teetering on the brink of death, facing enemies who didn't think twice about whether or not you were too young for such things. More times than you can remember, you've been responsible for making decisions that would directly impact the lives of many people, even the wizarding world as a whole. The power in your hands, the skills and the often almost unbearable weight that such responsibilities brought to your life, made your mentality run miles ahead of those of your schoolmates - of society, in general. Inevitably, you felt that circumstances had forced you to develop a sense of urgency and raw honesty that even some adults lacked.

It was true that you lacked practical experience in some intimate matters - now mind you, you didn't exactly have a lot of free time for romantic interests and sex, too busy between the Keepers Trials, running tirelessly through the Highlands performing exhausting tasks for every poor soul who crossed your path - tasks that often culminated in your near death - attending the many classes during the day and the intensive study for the O.W.L.s in the library.

It was a true miracle when you managed to find time to sleep in your own bed in the dormitory - more often than not you were so exhausted that you simply lay down wherever you were and took a nap.

The fact was that you weren't exactly experienced in matters of intimacy, not really. There had been a few daring kisses here and there, of course. Even a few curious hands while you were snuggling with a Ravenclaw boy between the shelves of the library, hidden from Madam Scribner's watchful eyes. But you hadn't gone any further than that with anyone - even though the rumors circulating around school were that you and Sebastian Sallow had once been caught in an embarrassing and quite explicit situation in the Prefects' Bathroom. Which, of course, was a blatant lie. You had only been in the Prefects' Bathroom once and it certainly wasn't for any...carnal purposes.

You suspected that it was Sebastian himself who had started such rumors.

Either way, your lack of experience in the field had never bothered you much. Honestly, you didn't have the energy to bother yourself with it more than superficially. But you’d be lying if you denied that the prospect that Ominis, the most unfairly handsome and well-born boy you’ve ever met, might be as inexperienced as you is doesn’t offer a kind of comfort you didn’t even know you needed — as well as a funny thrill of anticipation in your belly.

You blink slowly as you stare at his handsome profile, bracing yourself for more of his cold scowls and frustrated huffs of impatience — perhaps even a sermon on how unladylike it is to ask such questions. He’s very good at sermons. Instead, however, you’re met with something else entirely. The upturned bridge of his nose is stained with blush, as are his cheeks. His unseeing gaze is turned away from you, his lips pressed tightly together, the corners slightly turned down. He looks…nervous? Distressed? You feel bad for pushing him like this. But as blushing and regretful as you are, the thought of what this means makes your heart beat faster by the second. The thought that you were right about your deductions after all makes your throat almost dry.

"H-hey, Ominis," you stammer awkwardly, but he still doesn't tilt his head in your direction. His arms are crossed over his chest like a physical shield, his entire posture screaming barely contained tension, making you slowly pull your feet off the table and adjust yourself on the couch so that you're sitting sideways to face him better. You take a deep breath, but Merlin, the air between you feels heavy now. It's strange, really; you don't think the two of you have ever been this awkward around each other, except for the first time you had a conversation - which was actually more of a threatening monologue on his part than a conversation per se. The regret of having insisted on this subject begins to weigh on your chest - a sincere fear that something that seemed so harmless to you a few minutes ago could be the cause of a crack in the bond you've arduously cultivated with Ominis is taking root in your mind.

You adjust uncomfortably the red hood of the robe around your neck, thinking that it wasn't worth trying to satisfy your curiosity after all - and let it be recorded for all that a Gryffindor knows when to give up their pride and admit to having made a bad decision, no matter how bitter the aftertaste is on your tongue. With a forced smile on your lips and a hand rubbing the back of your head, you silently pray that your next words will ease the heavy mood that has settled in the Undercroft.

"You know what? Let's forget about it. This is really none of my business and I'm sure that -"

"No." Ominis interrupts you shyly, impossibly redder than before and you immediately shut up, eyes wide as you stare at him with your heart wanting to fly out of your chest. "I've never been like this with anyone." The small tremor in his voice indicates how nervous he feels.

It would be comical if it weren't so desperate how by now you were already certain of this statement and yet it still manages to leave you completely speechless when it leaves his lips. The regret of having started this whole thing is ridiculously more overwhelming than before because you simply don't know what to say now that you've heard what you already knew all along. Thinking back now, what in Godric's name did you plan on saying in the first place? He would confess what you suspected to be the truth and then what?

Congrats, that's what you get for being so inappropriately curious.

"T-there was this girl in fourth year and we, well, she kissed me - but it was weird and a complete accident, it only lasted for a second and...and after that I never, you know...I've never been interested in anyone like that...at least not until -"

You think you might just burst into a ball of flames from how scorching your skin is, and Ominis is obviously as disturbingly embarrassed as you are because he's gesticulating with his hands and babbling nonstop, his nervousness causing him to reveal far more than you had initially asked, making both of you more awkward by the second.

Oh. Oh, Merlin. He hadn't even kissed anyone. At least not really.

What are you supposed to do with this information?!

“I’m sorry,” he says suddenly, sighing so deeply that his shoulders slump with the movement, deflating the way a balloon punctured by a needle would. 

Despite your brutal state of embarrassment, you frown, leaning forward on the couch so that you’re a little closer to him. “Sorry? Why are you sorry? I’m the one who asked you things that didn’t concern me. If anything, I’m the one who should be apologizing to you.”

Ominis gives you a shy smile that lacks any sincere joy. “I know, but still. I mean, I shouldn’t have — it’s weird for me to say these things about you, even though I’ve wanted to say them for a while. But I didn’t — I just didn’t want it to be this disastrous.”

In retrospect, you think this might all just be a trick of your overactive imagination. It's quite possible that you simply blacked out while Ominis was telling you about Sebastian's latest romantic endeavor - in his deep, soft voice - and that this is all just a dream.

It's a very plausible option, given that this has happened before. His presence, always so calm and controlled, combined with his mesmerizing baritone have guided you into a lethargic state of drowsiness more times than you can remember. It's just how he makes you feel - relaxed and safe.

Yes, that's what's happening once again. It has to be. Why, for heaven's sake, can't you have just heard what you think you heard, right?

But the way he stands there, serious features and a deep blush on his face, waiting for your answer with a visible degree of insecurity in his normally impassive being, is what makes you finally say something.

"W-was that about me?" You let out quietly, your racing heartbeat somehow accelerating even more, to the point where you question the harm this would do to your health. "When you said you've never been interested in anyone like that, at least until..." you continue, trying to bring some semblance of order to your thoughts, "was it me you were talking about then?"

It took a few seconds before he nodded once.

"I've wanted to talk to you about this for a long time. But there was always something going on - someone you needed to help, a poor creature needing to be rescued in the middle of the Forbidden Forest, a Goblin Helm to be recovered in a cursed cave far away from here..." he chuckles softly and you find yourself laughing back, shy and gentle, though a long exhale leaves your lips as you feel a bit of lightness begin to permeate the air between you two once more.

He reaches for you hesitant, but gently - oh so gently - places his cold hand above yours on the couch. You don't flinch or avoid his touch, though you still stare for a few seconds at the place where his long, pale fingers cover yours, trying to assimilate the unreal image that unfolds in front of you. And when your gaze rises and finally finds his face, it almost breaks your heart.

Realistically, you know he can’t see anything at all, but that becomes an afterthought in your mind as soon as you look at him. His eyes, bright, pale blue orbs like two moon-like spheres, are tilted and fixed at the exact same level as yours — and in this particular moment, you’re certain he’s seeing you, as impossible as that possibility may be. Swallowing the saliva that’s building in your mouth is suddenly a difficult task, but you force yourself to do it anyway.

"Ominis, what—what are you trying to say?”

You whisper slowly, as if the mere question is a secret between the two of you, the unexpected intensity in his cloudy eyes making your heart stutter as he continues to stare at you, his bushy brows furrowed in an expression that’s hard to discern. Suddenly, you realize how close you’re standing. Nothing but a small gap in the couch separates you, where your hands are clasped together and two boxes of Chocolate Frogs still rest. You can smell him, confunsing your mind as you unconsciously lean a little closer to him — fresh mint, chocolate, and something that reminds you of open parchment or the scent of the pages of a rare book.

He breathes your name huskily, and you feel your cheeks tingle with the heat of a fresh flush of blush.

“I’m in love with you,” he says earnestly, more whispering the words than saying them, his hand tightening in yours a fraction more, and all you can do is stare at him in utter shock. The expression on his face is vulnerable, evidenced by the furrowed lines of his brows in what looks almost like agony. But he’s also determined — a single-minded determination that’s enough to steal the breath from your lungs. "It took me a while to understand it, but I think I've been since the day I met you, to be honest. When you arrived late to the Great Hall, out of breath and in a hurry, but still so ecstatic with everything around you - as if being brutally attacked by a dragon while trying to get to school was no big deal. You've been stunning to me ever since. It was impossible not to be completely enchanted by you."

You're at a loss for words, so you don't even try to find them, opting for silence as you repeat his words on a loop in your mind.

It's strange how you always imagined confessions like this should be made in front of silvery moonlit ponds or in lush meadows during the spring season or literally anywhere that could be considered even remotely inspiring for romance. Certainly not in secret spaces filled with dust, crates and training dummies like the Undercroft. But here you are; overwhelmed and speechless by a declaration made in the last place you imagined you'd receive one.

And oh Merlin, you want to believe him, to entertain the idea that someone as utterly adorable as Ominis could feel that way about you - even though you've never been able to explain to yourself how you really felt about him.

Ominis Gaunt has always been an enigma.

The Slytherin's obvious qualities are nothing new to you; his gentle disposition despite his aloof facade and the weight of his family's unsavory reputation, or his polite and gentlemanly manners towards everyone. But these were attributes that anyone with even the slightest interest in him could see, qualities that didn't set him apart that much from others you knew.

But the truth is that, with time and familiarity, you noticed other distinct peculiarities in Ominis.

Leaving aside his ethereal beauty and his tall, majestic physique, which, again, are very obvious positive traits about him, he was the most captivating man you've ever met. The patience he possessed towards others, the fierce loyalty to you and Sebastian, the fact that despite the long sermons that accompanied it, he was always breaking the promises he made to himself in favor to protect and support those he loved. His far above average intelligence, the way he annoyingly always knows the right thing to say - even, and especially, at the times when you don't want to hear it. And, of course, his most attractive side in your opinion: the unexpected softness in his dark nature - it's about him being able to frighten and silence an entire room with just his imposing presence and still be the one to comfort and care, with kindness and respect.

You certainly understood that Ominis was someone seriously conflicted. The way he sometimes tended towards a cold temperament, or how, at times, he let his emotions guide him to his dark and cold side, did not go unnoticed by you. But still, you saw how he tried hard to let his gentle side prevail in his manner.

But

Did noticing these little details that would normally go unnoticed by others mean that you reciprocate his feelings?

Well, you felt safe with him. Even safer than you felt with Sebastian. While the latter was undeniably a friend you held in high regard (and even a small crush, if you were honest) he did not give you the same sense of complete comfort and trust that Ominis did. With Sebastian you felt like you had to constantly prove yourself, like just being who you were was never enough for him. Now with Ominis...

And as you stare at him, open-mouthed, searching for the right words to respond to his unexpected declaration, you think that maybe that's why you've never been able to put a name to what you felt for him. There was no heady, bubbling, flowery passion to announce any feelings, like there had been with your other brief flirtations before - or even with Sebastian. There was only the warmth, the relief, the peace of feeling whole and completely safe.

The feeling of knowing that if you were in a life-or-death situation and could count on only one person to save you, he would be the one to come to your rescue.

Godric

Realization borns in your chest to the point where you feel like you could float, like the feeling after eating a mouthful of Fizzling Whizzbees. Suddenly, you feel like you have so much to say, but you don't know how. Ominis, as usual, is much more eloquent:

"You wanted to know if I've ever been intimate with anyone, and my answer is no." He seems more hesitant, as if his hopes have been diminished a bit along with your prolonged silence, but his voice is still soft - as is the grip of his fingers on yours. "I've never been intimate with anyone because the only person I've ever wanted to be with was you."

All the air in your lungs leaves you in a sharp exhale, the warmth of deep admiration, affection and trust filling your chest and making your heart beat wildly. Overcome with emotion, you look once more at his hand holding your smaller one, opening your mouth, fumbling for the words in a confusing jumble of vowels and consonants.

"It's okay," Ominis assures you with a sad smile, his large milky eyes slanted downward, staring blindly at where he feels you squeeze his fingers. "I know it's a lot to take in at once. I don't mean to pressure you into anything, I swear. I just, I guess I just needed to tell you how I feel. But I understand if...well...I really understand that you don't feel the same way." His thick eyebrows sink, his face hardening slightly, as if he's already prepared for your rejection.

"Ominis." His name is a sigh from your lips. Touched. Longing.

You don't know how exactly what was supposed to be just another night of studying has brought you here. All you know is that you intend to enjoy every moment of this unexpected confession, eager to discover what new paths it might lead to.

The heat of Ominis so close combined with the way your heart had raced as you focused on his perfectly flushed lips, and how his scent was making your head spin, made you suddenly feel more impulsive than ever. And that's saying something considering your history of questionable choices.

You decide to go for it.

"Can I kiss you?" You ask in a frail whisper as you realize that nothing you could say would be enough to make him understand the emotions you're feeling right now.

His head snaps up at the question, his eyes wide and his lips parted.

"W-what? I mean, yes. Merlin, yes you can -" he breathes quickly, his pale skin stained with a deep blush, his orbs darting aimlessly. "But I've never actually kissed anyone - I might not be as good at it as -"

You cut it.

"I seriously doubt that."

This only makes him blush harder and you almost regret what you said, rushing to save him from the situation.

"B-but I can show you how, if you prefer."

You’re almost breathless at this point, vaguely reminding yourself that you’re no queen of the experience either, but when he nods eagerly, everything flies out the window and it’s like the pulsing muscle in your chest has given up on this whole adrenaline show and simply stopped beating.

Well, that’s it, you think as you push the boxes of Chocolate Frogs onto the rug with trembling fingers and move closer to Ominis until your legs are touching.

You’re almost facing each other on the couch now, his breath fanning your face, gentle and soft, and you stare for a moment into the milky expanse of his eyes. Pale skin dotted with a few beauty marks, perfectly sculpted jaw, elegant nose, flushed lips slightly parted.

For a moment, shame takes over you to the point where you almost turn around and beg him to pretend none of this happened. Almost. But his thumb lovingly caressing your knuckles is what grounds you in this moment once again.

You wouldn’t be a self-respecting Gryffindor if you gave up on your goals over a little embarrassment, would you?

“Right.”

You gently cup Ominis’ jaw between your fingers, delighted when he immediately leans into the touch, unable to hide the small hitch in your breath as you feels his heart rate spike as press on a pulse point.

You lean closer to him than you’ve ever been before, your noses not even four inches apart, his minty breath tickling your face. "Close your eyes, please,” your voice trembles weakly and you wet your lips before continuing, your skin so heated that you’re sure Ominis can feel the flames emanating from it without even touching you, “and then just do what feels right, I guess – let your body guide you.”

You didn’t even know what you were saying anymore, but there he was, bathed in the flames of the braziers and the partial darkness of the Undercroft; his long, thick eyelashes fanning over his flushed cheekbones as he does exactly what you say, more beautiful than anything you’ve ever seen in your life.

He keeps one hand covering yours to stroke your fingers back and forth, his other hand, however, is on his own thigh, clenched into a tight fist – like a restraint. Restraint for what? You’re not sure. But the possibilities still conjure a swarm of butterflies in your belly.

Ominis leans in a little closer, almost unconsciously, parting his lips and inhaling audibly as you exhale a soft sound. Your hand slides down the sharp line of his jaw, stroking the curve of his ear with your thumb until you rest your fingers delicately on the back of his neck, guiding him to extinguish the last few inches that separate you as you let your own eyes drift closed. With a tentative brush of your lip against his, you press forward, sealing your lips and your heart with his in that moment.

The first touch is nothing and absolutely everything you imagined.

You sigh.

For the first second you freeze, afraid that you have no idea what you would do now that you finally felt Ominis Gaunt's plush lips on yours, but apparently your previous advice to him is very convenient and your instincts take over the worry almost instantly.

Your lips mold between his like a perfect fit, soft and moist, his heat invading your mouth in shy puffs. You melt almost immediately, letting the kiss remain chaste - a firm but soft pressure, with gentle movements over his.

All tension drains from your body because this is familiar; sweet, warming your body from the inside, like drinking butterbeer with friends in front of a fireplace on a cold winter's day - comfortable, safe. But it also gives you an anxious tingle that makes you unconsciously squeeze your legs together; your stomach twists and turns with funny somersaults, the swarm of butterflies more agitated than ever.

Having your lips collide with his, the softness and fresh taste he exudes, you realize how much you miss this - even if it's the first time you're experiencing it with him. So much for emotional incoherence.

Ominis breathes a shaky, heated breath into your mouth, fingers releasing your hand to grip your wrist in an almost desperate gesture.

You're the first to pull back, suddenly dizzy, blushing even more when he chases your lips for a few inches before stopping himself. Through half-lidded eyes, you watch him slowly begin to open his too, a dazed look on his face, with panting lips and rosy cheeks that make him look both childish and incredibly sinful at the same time.

"O-Ominis," you whisper, panting as if you've just finished climbing one of the mountains in the Highlands. “That was…”

In a game-changing moment, he furrows his brows and locks his jaw once before parting his lips to say, “Can we do this again? I mean, do you want to… will you let me do it again? Like, right now?”

Despite your earlier determination, you find yourself whipped by the abrupt change in his tone. At the restless eagerness in his breathy voice, at the possessive grip on your wrist. How, in the blink of an eye, the tables seem to have been turned and he’s the one taking control now. But inexplicably, your own greed for more collides with his and you find yourself nodding, before remembering that he couldn’t possibly see your silent consent.

“Yes, please…”

Unlike you thought, he doesn’t immediately pull you to his lips. What he does, however, stuns you more than any alternative. His fingers, long and elegant, adorned with a few rings that are surely worth more than your life, close around the sides of your waist as soon as the words leave your lips, hoisting your body off the couch with such blatant ease that it would surprise you if you didn’t have more shocking things to deal with at the moment. Like, for example, the fact that he made you sit facing him.

On his lap.

You gasp, absolutely mortified, but, removed from all logic, you make no move to escape his grip; allowing your legs to remain parted on the sides of his thighs, hips against his, hands gripping his broad shoulders for stability.

Ominis, unlike you, seems quite at ease with the awkward position he’s placed you in, releasing your waist to tentatively raise his cold fingers to your burning face, pale blue eyes intensely and greedily locked on your features - features he could never see. Not in the usual way.

“I can?”

Deeply disturbed by the way he’s looking at you and how quickly things have climbed, you can’t find the words to respond, choosing instead to take both of his wrists in your delicate, trembling fingers and guide his hands to your face. You try to control your rapid breathing as his fingers trace the angles of your eyebrows and jaw and the soft roundness of your cheeks and chin, the icy feel of his rings prickling your skin. His eyes slowly close, his brows furrowed in concentration, as if he’s replicating the image of your face in his mind.

“You always smell like honey and lemon tea leaves.” He murmurs with a satisfied hum, and your eyelashes flutter along with your heart as he traces the arch of your eyebrow and then the line of your nose. Your mouth falls open unconsciously when his fingers touch the softness of your lower lip, and it’s Ominis who gasps this time. You watch in embarrassed ecstasy as his face darkens with a blush, the muscle in his jaw twitching once more, his thick eyelashes fluttering over the apple of his cheeks.

You nervously smooth the green hood of the robe around his neck, playing with the texture of the fabric to distract yourself from the intense emotions that threaten to make you faint.

“Your heart is beating so loud I can hear it from here,” he says softly, tracing the delicate cupid’s bow over your lips, a mischievous tug at the right corner of his mouth.

Your eyes widen a little as you let out a shy giggle, still pretending to maintain a confidence that has surely flown out the window long ago. Ominis once told you that since he lacked the fundamental sense of sight, his other senses have been immensely enhanced over the years, including hearing. And, well, your heart was beating so loudly and unkindly as the quickening footsteps of a Graphorn.

The thorough exploration stops for a moment so he can gently cup your jaw between his thumb and forefinger, and you feel the slightest pressure toward him. He pulls you straight to him.

Your faces are almost touching once more. You feel his soft breath on your cheek, hear his light but greedy intake of breath. His grip tightens the tiniest fraction.

Soft lips press against your cheek.

He doesn’t rush at all. The kiss lingers. A warm, syrupy sensation spreads through your body. Your hands tighten in the fabric around his neck. His lips press a little deeper, the tip of his nose nudging your temple affectionately. A warm sigh blows over your flushed skin before he pulls away. His fingers trail, impossibly soft, along your jaw in comforting movements as he leans in to press a kiss to your forehead, your other cheek, and another to the tip of your nose. His contradiction shocks you as much as it always has; how one moment he can be shy and hesitant and the next the most confident and dominant person in the world.

“So beautiful, sweet girl.”

You’re about to scream, bubbles of affection and desire exploding in your chest, your fingers itching to pull him in for another kiss. Wanting — no, needing — his lips on yours once more. You don’t have much control left, though. He’s stolen your confidence and turned it into a messy, tangled puddle of wants. You know what you want, but you don’t dare take it. Not when he’s clearly calling the shots like this. You’re frozen, barely breathing, and only vaguely aware that he’s touching your neck now, tilting your head so your faces are pressed together as he push his lips to yours again.

Merlin, yes

This time you actually shiver beneath his fingers, a helpless noise rising from your throat straight to his mouth. His other hand tightens around your waist, and the one on your neck slides into your hair, his fingers digging into your scalp.

This kiss is clearly different from the last, bolder and hungrier from the first contact. And you actually find yourself questioning the veracity of his claim about being inexperienced at this, because by Merlin' sake, he certainly seems very skilled to you.

You assume this is another one of those inexplicable situations where he’s exceptionally good at whatever it is he sets out to do, even if it’s the first time he’s doing it. The thought almost irritates you, as it reminds you of your first kiss — the one that was an awkward, painful mess of teeth chattering and more saliva than there should have been. But just as quickly as the feeling appears, it’s gone.

Your head feels light and buoyant, and it feels a lot like being enchanted with a Wingardium Leviosa the exact moment his tongue brushes against your bottom lip. Then, all you can seem to hold in your mind is the sensation — the heat of his tongue in your mouth, the almost painful stab as he pulls your head back by your hair, the shocking, abject excitement that surges as he starts to act more roughly. You moan, and he wraps his arm around your back to pull you so close to him that your chests are pressed tightly together.

You’re not sure when you do it, but behind your closed lids you swear you see entire constellations exploding with the sensations he gives you with his kiss.

There’s a certain degree of inexperience in the way his tongue moves inside your mouth, but that’s nothing more than a tiny detail when compared to the absolute hunger with which he seems to want to devour you. His saliva, like all of him, seems to melt on your tongue with the most addictive mint flavor - and, deliciously, the lingering taste of the chocolate you both ate not long ago.

It’s all overwhelming, perfect but overwhelming, and the dizziness comes faster than you could have anticipated, making your movements slower and heavier. A wet breath, a grunt from him, another maddening kiss, lips seeking lips, soft cotton under your fingertips. Ominis’s robe feels like a lifeline, and you grab it with everything you’ve got.

If you focused on something other than the sensation, you might notice how heated you both are and how flushed you look. Maybe you could notice Ominis’ hand gently releasing the death grip of your hand on his robe to place the aching fingers on the back of his head.

Just when your nails unconsciously scrape his scalp to pull a few strands of blond hair between your fingers, Ominis parts his lips between yours to release the most sinful of sounds — something that lies somewhere between a growl and a moan, and the thing goes like a lightning bolt straight between your legs.

It’s you who pulls him back into a feverish kiss this time, wet, breathy sounds escaping you both between the clash of your tongues as you press against each other. You’re hyper-aware of how hard he is beneath you, his length straining against the fabric of his uniform pants, and you blush — but you want him even more. Delicately but purposefully, you catch his swollen bottom lip between your teeth to tug once before licking it, but Ominis gasps so loudly and closes his hand around your neck so unexpectedly that you actually choke on a startled, high-pitched sound.

Regardless of the adrenaline rush the action generates, or perhaps precisely because of it, you brace your knees better on the couch around him, rocking your pelvis against Ominis’s before you even realize what you’re doing, enjoying the strangled gasp he lets out despite the almost fierce grip on yyour throat.

“Again. Do it again,” he breathes against your lips, resting his forehead against yours, and you do. Ominis begins to move too, thrusting his hips up while you thrust yours down, getting into a rhythm that has you both gasping in the silence of the Undercroft, the flames of the braziers the only other noises to be heard around.

His hand slides under your shirt without any warning, over the soft skin of your stomach and to the edge of your bra before pushing it up and over your breast. The shock of his cold fingers on your heated skin is so much that you cry out, your nipple hardening in his broad palm as you push harder against him, and the shuddering gasp that leaves him in response has you aching to touch him too. And, by Godric, has the Undercroft always been this suffocatingly heat?

You pull apart for air as Ominis chases your lips with his, the feverish movements of your hips momentarily ceasing.

“Ominis…?” Your unspoken question hangs in the air between you, curious, thirsty to know how far you both intend to let this go.

His nose brushes against yours, his brows furrowed in anguish, his eyes pale and intense. “Every…Every single time I heard you, or smelled you near, I felt this. This desire. I’ve imagined you, like this, with me. So many times. It’s always been you. I want this so bad.”

“Y-yes,” you whisper as breathlessly as he does, your words a shared secret between you two and the darkness. “I want this too. I want you.”

He sighs in rapture, pressing his grip on your throat a fraction further, kneading his hand over your breast until he catches a nipple between his fingers, teasing the flesh with the cold silver of his signet ring. “Then don’t stop. Don’t you fucking dare stop.”

The commanding quality in his normally restrained tone coupled with his unusual choice of dirty language causes a spontaneous clench in the wet region between your legs. With unsteady fingers you snake your hand under his shirt, mimicking the same liberty he’s taken with you, and feel his back arch in response as you slide your soft and warm palm across the hard planes of his abdomen. With your other hand, you hold a silky handful of his hair, pulling him into a hard kiss as you roll your hips over him again - both of you moaning at the sensual grinding of your intimate parts.

“Baby, just like that -” he breathes shakily as he pulls away from the kiss and turns his head. At first you think he might just be hiding his face in the crook of your neck, but when you feel a pair of warm lips on the delicate flesh of that area your eyes flutter shut.

“Ominis,” is all you can manage to say as you tilt your head to the side for better access and hold him tighter by the grip on the back of his neck, rolling your hips to press yourself against the Slytherin as he begins to gently suck on the sensitive skin.

There are so many layers between the two of you. Ominis’s pants, his underwear, your panties, the heavy robes draped over your bodies, the uniform shirts. Barriers that at the moment only serve to prevent the actual touch of skin on skin. And, Merlin, you want so badly to feel his skin against yours, but you feel like you can’t rush it. Either way, neither of you seem to have the patience for the task at the moment, his mouth on your neck feeling so incredibly good that you can’t think of stopping him from continuing – not even so you can undress.

This intimacy with him already surpasses any practical experience you’ve had, any previous secret make out session. The adrenaline coursing through your veins is more than you’ve ever felt before – more electrifying than raiding Goblin and Ashwinder encampments, more than rescuing a Hippogriff right under Theophilus Harlow’s nose, more than completing a Trial from one of the Keepers. And the sheer euphoria and newness of it all, the overwhelming and unfamiliar sensations, his panting breaths in your ear, the needy grip of his hands on your body, his cock pressed greedily between your legs – and, most of all, the fact that it’s him, is pushing you rapidly towards your inevitable end. You’ll come soon, and for the first time, not from your own fingers.

Ominis licks a particularly hard bite mark he’s just left (in a place that’s going to be pretty troublesome to hide, you think) and pulls back a few inches as you both move together, leaving you alone to deal with the overwhelming image of his face carved in lust; the way his porcelain skin flushes and his kiss swollen mouth opens in a long sigh, pearly eyes half-lidded between his thick lashes as he grinds eagerly against you, the normally perfectly straight strands of hair now messy from your fidgeting fingers, falling across his forehead in a way that’s disturbingly sexy.

“I thought something like this would never happen. I never thought you’d want me the same way. Not someone like me.”

The way he speaks, breathless and feverish, yet so vulnerable and sincere, has you tearing up before you even realize it, sinking your fingers into the space between his chest, right above where his heart flutters like the wings of a Golden Snitch.

“Ominis...you’re so beautiful. You’re perfect. I-I’m so sorry I didn’t notice your feelings before. But I’m here now - you have me now.”

The breath seems to be knocked out of him by your words and you can taste his need as your mouths push together again in a slick mess of saliva and teeth - this time in the right way. Your own mind goes blank, any capacity for thought draining from you as he releases your breast to bring both hands under the skirt of your uniform, possessively grabbing the soft cheeks of your ass between his fingers to pull your body in time with his thrusts.

“Salazar, how can you be so good?” He groans as he breaks the kiss and shamelessly grinds your quivering pussy against his swollen cock, the fabric of his pants growing wet - as much his fault as yours. “Oh, I…fuck, y/n, harder. Harder, baby, please.”

You feel like your face is literally on fire, but you do as you’re told, grinding yourself hard against Ominis and watching with hypnotic attention as his eyes drift closed, his head tilting back against the back of the couch as his hips thrust upwards more roughly. The Adam’s apple in his slender, pale throat bobs with each hard swallow, his skin beginning to glisten with a subtle sheen of sweat. He’s so gorgeous, the sight of him ravished like this is so enchanting that it takes a few seconds for you to realize he’s mumbling something - and a few more seconds for it to sink in that you don’t understand the language.

Because he’s speaking in Parseltongue.

You don’t think he even realizes what he’s doing, considering his reservations about the dialect, too lost in the dizzying rush of pleasure. You are, however, hyperaware of the sounds that flow with hypnotic fluidity from his parted lips; harsh hisses, elongated chirps, vibrant trills of a pink tongue…

You may not understand what he’s saying, but you don’t need to be an expert in the speech to know that it’s definitely not something that should be said in public.

Your cheeks flush as he hisses something that sounds particularly filthy through clenched teeth, skin flushed and eyebrows furrowed in an almost irritated frown — which only makes him more irresistible to your eyes.

You can’t help the way your legs widen to their maximum limits, trying to mold your pussy to the thick line of his cock hidden beneath his pants as best you can.

“Yes, fuck, yes,” he whispers, seemingly back to normal speech (a part of you regrets this), his mouth opening in a guttural moan.

“O-Ominis—” You say, tasting his name in your mouth and it almost sounds like a question, but he fucks himself harder against you, clawing at the flesh of your ass to keep you in place, thrusting his hips into yours until you’re moaning louder — even with the barrier of fabric separating you, you feel it perfectly when the rounded head of his cock manages to hit the exact spot where your clit is.

“Louder,” he growls, lifting his head to you once more, chasing that beautiful sound that came out of your mouth like a starving man. “Let me hear who you’re rubbing yourself against like that.” He leans down and licks a stripe down your throat to your ear.

“Oh, Ominis—” You gasp louder, arching your neck to give him more acess. You can’t even finish your sentence, your lips parted in an “o” as his cock pushes against your pussy in the sweetest way. Your thighs are trembling now, and it feels so good, and you’re going to come, you know you will. “Please, please, you’re going to make me-” the muscles in your stomach are already clenching in anticipation, your back arching, and there’s a high-pitched sound wanting to rip from your throat and you know it’s going to be loud if you can’t control yourself.

“Come on, that’s it, just like that,” he rasps, and your moans grow more intrepid, until they finally turn into desperate gasps as you feel yourself one small step away from the edge.

It feels a little like going crazy, like being out of your mind, just using each other, fucking dirty and rough through your clothes, and you barely realize you’re digging your nails into the skin of his chest until Ominis’s head is jerking back, a sound that fluctuates between a moan of pleasure and pain leaving his lips — even as he murmurs a ‘keep going, please don’t stop.’

“Give it to me, my pretty girl,” he murmurs breathlessly, and you pull the blond strands of his hair between your fingers, eyes squeezed shut, mouth open with sounds that only make his grip on your ass grow greedier. Fuck, that feels good. “Come on, y/n, baby—”

His needy plea is what sends you flying over the edge. Within seconds, your eyes are watering hard, a spiral of lightning-fast heat hitting you as your pussy flutters and clenches around emptiness, the familiar wetness soaking your panties even more.

You cover your mouth a second too late, nearly choking on the scream you muffle into the sweaty palm of the hand that was once under his shirt, your orgasm ripping through your body without any subtlety. Neurons collapsing, couch creaking with the force of your movements, vision blurring and darkening at the edges - but Ominis isn't done with you.

When your drunken gaze flickers open to focus on his face, you notice how absolutely enraptured he looks, his pale eyes locked on your face as if he can actually see you in your breakdown.

Your body is limp and shaking, but you press your forehead against his as he struggles to keep up the pace now that you've given in to exhaustion. Your mouth is parted as he breathes in and out right next to your lips, eyes half-lidded. You lean in to kiss him gently on the lips as he thrusts hard into you, cupping his face to pepper kisses across his cheeks amidst his moans.

One of the hands on your ass comes up to tangle in your hair and tilt your head back so he can kiss your jaw. He thrusts into you hard enough that your body jumps up, but you hold on to him as best you can. Your bodies as entangled as they can be.

You even try to muster the strength to rock your hips against him, but his fingers in your ass tighten to keep you in place as he picks up the pace himself.

His fingers were digging into your flesh and your hair so hard it would have been painful in any other scenario. But not in this one. As it was, it was a reminder of how deep he was falling, how much he seemed to need this, need you, judging by his noises. 

“Come on,” you whisper when you manage to slide your lips to his ear, both of you sweaty and flushed, your little fingers scratching the back of his neck in comforting motions as you encourage him to reach his limit, “come for me, Ominis. Please, please -”

It works. Ominis parts his lips almost immediately, giving a husky moan of release that makes your pussy quiver back to life, his larger body tensing beneath yours, shuddering once, twice. His pale, cloudy eyes look watery for a few seconds, and his perfectly chiseled cheekbones are stained with the most charming blush beneath the sweat on his skin — fuck, gorgeous, that’s what he is.

He collapses back against the couch completely after a while, his arms wrapping around your smaller frame to keep you clinging to him. Not that he needs to. You’re too languid to move. Too exhausted and spent to care about anything or anyone other than him.

His head rests against your collarbone, rising and falling with your ragged breaths. Your arms wrap around him, your hand still lightly stroking his hair. There are blond strands stuck to his sweaty forehead, and you do your best to brush them back when he looks up at you, though his eyes are still closed, visibly pleased with the end result of this study session.

His own fingers run through the unruly strands of hair around your face, brushing a few behind your ear with a gentle caress. He opens his eyes after a while, orbs cloudy and ethereal, but you swear you can see an infinite constellation of glowing dots on their pale screen.

“I…” he begins hesitantly, his voice a little firmer now, though he still wets his swollen lips before continuing. “This meant a lot to me. You have no idea how much. But I don’t want to assume anything - I just, you don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to - you know, don’t feel like you have to be with me just because I…” he sighs, swallowing hard, trying to find the words to say something you already understand.

“Shhh,” you place the tip of your index finger over his lips, chuckling softly when he blushes, “I may have taken a while to realize it, but I also want to see where this can lead us. I do, Ominis.”

He sighs in relief, as if he’s come up for air after a long time underwater, cradling your face between the broad palms of his hands.

"Salazar, that's so good to hear. I really didn't know how I was going to go back to acting like just friends after what happened, if it was your decision." He murmurs seriously, but his sharp features are relaxed as he rests his forehead against yours.

"Don't be so dramatic." You roll your eyes as weakly scold him, though your heart is warm and cozy inside your chest, embracing this moment for what it is - precious. "Didn't you hear what I said just now?"

He pulls back a few inches, his nose wrinkling slightly as he tries to figure out what you're talking about.

He's so cute.

You can't help yourself before you purse your lips into a pout and plant a tender kiss on the tip of his nose.

"I told you you have me now, little fool."

The smile he gives you in response is extremely rare; full and bright, two cute dimples on each side of the cheeks, showing off his perfect teeth; everything as charming as the rest of him. Even though he doesn't say anything after your declaration, seeing something so unusual directed at you already tells you everything you need to know. You sigh in excitement, letting him pull you by the nape of your neck for another kiss, pouring all the adoration he feels for you into the act.

Your skin is sticky with sweat, your hair a mess of knots, your clothes wrinkled and askew, the space between you a wet, embarrassing mess - the heat from both of your robes heating your skin to an almost suffocating level. But neither of you makes any move to separate, or even to pick up your wands and cast a simple cleaning spell - too enraptured with each other and so completely satisfied that you happily ignore everything else.

You feel so happy. And, most importantly, ready for what is to come.

Outside the castle, the snow falls without stopping, freezing everything around with its cloud of crystals. But here, in this dusty and unlikely place for romance, you feel safe and warm.

[mj-iza-writer]

Whumpee heard a car pull into the driveway. They hurried to kneel next to Whumper's chair at the dinner table.

"Master is late. They must have gotten food out", Whumpee sighed as they got into their begging position, "they normally don't share that type of food with me. Still, I can beg, and they may like it that I am already in position."

The door slammed in, causing Whumpee to jump. Several large uniformed personal poured into the house. Guns aimed at Whumpee.

Whumpee fell over fearfully and yelped.

"Please don't shoot. I'm a lowly slave... I didn't...", Whumpee looked down at a wet spot that had formed in their thin shorts, "m-my master.... didn't let me go to the bathroom yet", they looked up with embarrassment.

"What's your name?", one of the armored people commanded as they followed Whumpee's eyes to the accident.

"Whumpee", they answered, "my master isn't home."

The armored person looked over Whumpee. Bruises and scars were evident all over the visible parts on Whumpee's body.

Speaking of visible... they were barely clothed.

Whumpee whimpered.

"The house is clear. We only see the one person", a person yelled from a different part of the house.

"Why are your hands behind your back?", the person glanced around them.

Whumpee shook, "Master likes my hands tied behind my back. They've been like that for months. Only released for chores", Whumpee explained quickly, "please, where is my master?"

"We are with law enforcement. Hold still", the person pulled out a knife.

"No please", Whumpee pleaded, "Master will do it again... only tighter. My punishment for being freed without permission", Whumpee screamed as the knife cut through the ropes.

"We don't have to worry about Whumper. They are in custody. You are coming with us."

Whumpee stared nervously at the doorway of their medical room.

"Any moment Master will walk through that door. Everything will be straightened out. I'll be punished, but hopefully, they will show mercy. I tried to behave", Whumpee kept their arms tucked behind them. It was a little difficult to do with a needle in their arm, but they needed to be presentable when their master came in.

They looked at a bag of liquid that seemed to be connected to the needle.

"Maybe Master will allow me to ask a few questions about what is going on", Whumpee looked around the room, "I don't remember anything like this."

They looked down at the clothes they had been given.

"So embarrassing for Master's slave to pee themself. I hope it doesn't stain the rug. I wish I had been given a few minutes to clean that", Whumpee sighed, "maybe Master's will understand. They had been gone for a while, and didn't give me permission to go. I was good and waited.... Who am I kidding. Master is going to kill me for that. It was the new carpet."

The door opened, causing Whumpee to straighten up.

Another person with a white coat came in.

"Hello Whumpee", they sat down right by the bed, "how are we feeling? Will you bring out your arms. I'd like to see how the rope marks are doing. I'm sure you will feel more comfortable."

"My Master likes my arms behind my back. I'm waiting for them to return", Whumpee slowly brought their arms out.

"I'm sorry, but you don't have to wait. You will probably not see them for a while actually", they smiled, "how is your nurse treating you? You denied a meal a earlier. I think you sound pretty hungry to be denying food."

Whumpee frowned as their stomach girgled, "Master hasn't given me permission to eat yet."

"How about, as your doctor, I give you permission. I think you could really use some food", the doctor smiled, "I won't tell your master if you won't... our little secret."

"Secrets will get me punished harshly", Whumpee frowned.

"Are these bruises and scars from punishments?", the doctor looked over a few notes.

"Yes, and just normal corrections and training. Master says it will keep me in line. He likes an obedient slave", Whumpee smiled, "I'm a good Whumpee."

"I'm sure you are", the doctor smiled weakly.

The next morning, Whumpee woke up to the door being opened.

"Master... oh" Whumpee saw the person that had talked to them at Whumper's home.

"It's me. I wanted to check in on you. I've been thinking about you all night", they came in and sat down, "my name is Don, by the way. I don't think I told you that."

Whumpee frowned, "I'm sorry for peeing myself. That's not how good slaves act."

"It's alright, I think I would have done the same in that situation", Don laughed.

"Where is my master?", Whumpee asked again, "no one is answering me."

Don sighed and leaned up closely, "your Master... is in a lot of trouble right now. I can't talk about it openly with you. Just know they are not going to be free for a while. Especially with the information we are finding out, and what we have found out about you. They won't hurt you any longer."

"Did I do something wrong?", Whumpee whispered.

"No you haven't done anything wrong. You have helped us greatly. I will actually be taking you to a friend of mine later today. My friend is going to take care of you for a while. They really want to know what your favorite food is, so they can make it for you for dinner", Don smiled.

"Someone wants to take care of me?", Whumpee stared, "but why?"

"Well, they do it for a living. Take care of cases like yours. They love doing it", Don nodded, "the moment I saw you, I knew I had to get you into Caretaker's hands. He will help you so much."

Whumpee stared out the window of the car.

"Can I at least see my master?", Whumpee turned to Don, "get any orders for how they want me to behave until I'm back with them again."

"I'm sorry Whumpee, but you can't. You'll have to follow what Caretaker tells you for right now", Don turned into a neighborhood, "I'll stay for a little while to make sure you are settled in."

Whumpee watched the houses in the neighborhood while until they pulled into one.

"Here we are", Don smiled.

Whumpee followed Don to the door and hid behind them while they waited.

A nurse had given them a stuffed bear while they were being discharged. They hugged onto it tightly.

"Hey Caretaker", Don greeted when the door finally opened.

"Hello, I just finished getting the room ready. Perfect timing", the elderly man smiled.

Whumpee shook as Don moved aside. They quickly darted behind Don again.

"A little shy, and a lot confused. I'm afraid I have a difficult case for you", Don said apologetically.

"That's alright, just means they need a little more love. I have just want they need", Caretaker knelt down to be eye level with Whumpee, "welcome to my home. I hope you will find it very comfy."

Whumpee stared out the window for a while after Don left. The bear still wrapped tightly in their arms.

"Something smells delicious", Whumpee shyly sniffed a few times.

"Whumpee, dinner is about ready if you would like to sit at the table here", Caretaker came around carrying a few cups, "I know you haven't eaten for a while, so I'm sure you're hungry. You will be required to eat this meal though. That is a rule here."

Whumpee felt a wave of relief when they heard a rule. Something to follow.... finally.

Whumpee stared at the table wondering where Caretaker would sit. They finally knelt beside a chair. They glanced at their arms for a moment before tucking them behind their back. The stuffed bear sat next to them on the floor.

Caretaker glanced out at them.

"Oh Whumpee, may I ask what you are up to?", Caretaker stepped out to them.

"This is how my master had me sit for their meals", Whumpee looked at themself nervously, "is this okay?"

"Well, I had you sitting in one of the chairs at the table in mind, my dear", Caretaker smiled comfortingly, "could you tell me how you ate."

"My Master would have me beg beside their lap while they ate. They would give me a bite or two while they ate their meal. When they finished they would set the plate on the floor for me to finish the leftovers", Whumpee frowned.

"Oh", Caretaker tried to hide their saddened shock, "and, uh, you had your arms tied behind your back often. How would you eat?"

"Just bend over and eat with my mouth. It was hard at first. You just had to be careful about getting food on the carpet", Whumpee smiled at themself, "I was very good for my Master. I just sometimes wished he had left me a few extra bites. I was often hungry, but I never asked for more."

"I'm sure you were very good for them, and thankyou for sharing that with me", Caretaker smiled, "let's try eating at the table tonight", Caretaker reached for the bear, then helped Whumpee up, "I can assure you, you will not walk away from my table hungry. I made your favorites."

Whumpee sat at the table shyly. This was a new experience, they had never been allowed on Master's furniture.

"Ar-are you sure you want me at the table?", they asked when Caretaker came in.

"Of course I'm sure", Caretaker set a plate and a bowl down in front of Whumpee, "that way you can eat comfortably.

"Wow", Whumpee stared at the food. They hadn't seen this much food set in front of them since one of their Master's friends snuck them a plate at a dinner party.

"You have a delicious salad, spaghetti, garlic bread. Then we have a slice of chocolate cake for dessert", Caretaker smiled as Whumpee stared at the food with wide eyes, "of course we have milk, juice, and water to drink as well."

"I get all of this?", Whumpee looked at them in shock.

"Yes, I'll be right back with my plates. Now you do have to eat, but you do not have to eat it all. I know there is a lot here. Eat until you're satisfied", Caretaker smiled as they turned, "no need to make yourself sick by overindulgence."

Whumpee waited until Caretaker came back out.

"You can eat", Caretaker sat down, "I hope you enjoy. Let me know if you need anything."

"If feels weird", Whumpee looked at the plate again, "I've never been offered so much food. I also don't have my Master's permission to eat. But... for the first time... I-I don't care."

Caretaker smiled comfortingly, "that's why I always make my patient's favorite for their first meal with me. It's easier to break a rule if it's something they like. Then, after that, they realize that nothing bad happened. Then a while down the road they realize nothing bad is going to happen. You are very well behaved, I can imagine what your Master has done to you by your behavior alone. You are very much safe here, I promise. I have Don on speed dial if anything bad does happen."

Whumpee stared sadly at the cake.

"You can have it later if you like. You definitely enjoyed your meal", Caretaker smiled at the almost empty plates.

"It all tasted so good. I haven't had food like this in so long", Whumpee looked at their plates, "I'll go start washing dishes for you. Maybe after that I'll be able to eat the cake."

Caretaker stood, "you don't have to worry about doing chores while you're here. You can help me though if you like. Maybe after that we can come out here and see about the cake."

"N-no chores.... but how will I earn my keep?", Whumpee stood quickly to try to help.

"You don't have to earn anything here", Caretaker smiled, "I know it is hard to understand that, so I will allow you to help me if you want to. You don't have to though. You are here to heal and recuperate. It is my job to make sure you do that."

Whumpee frowned, "I don't really understand", they gave a worried look, "I'm sorry."

"It's okay, in time you will be more comfortable", Caretaker led them to the kitchen, "so, do you want to help me. I actually have a dishwasher, so this task is quite easy."

"Dishwasher, I've never been allowed to use one", Whumpee whispered, "Master says the dishes get washed better by hand. It was the only time my hands would be untied. I would have to do my chores in the evening when he was home to untie me. The day was spent walking up and down the hall, so I didn't become lazy. If master logged into the camera and saw me sitting or not pacing...", Whumpee shuddered as they remembered.

"Yes, some dishes do wash better by hand. I don't use those dishes", Caretaker smirked, "a note on those rules... if you need to use the bathroom, please go. You do not need permission to use the bathroom."

Whumpee nodded, "thankyou", they sighed in relief.

Whumpee rinsed the dishes as Caretaker had showed them. Caretaker then took the dish and placed it in the dishwasher.

"Alright, all done", Caretaker pressed a button, "have you worked up a hunger for cake yet?"

"I-I don't know. That was faster than I thought it would be", Whumpee felt their stomach, "its still full."

"Mine is too", Caretaker nodded

That night, Whumpee stood very close to something they hadn't had access to in years.

Caretaker walked by and peaked in.

"How are you feeling right now?"

"Overwhelmed", Whumpee turned and looked at Caretaker, "you really want me to sleep in one of your beds?"

"Yes, of course. I wouldn't have made it for you otherwise", Caretaker came into the room, "you are allowed to use any of my furniture. You are allowed to sleep in that bed. That is your bed for the time being."

"M-my bed" Whumpee looked at it again.

They reached a shaky hand to the blankets and felt how soft it all was.

"Your bed", Caretaker nodded, "are you ready to climb in. I'm sure this will feel so good. You just showered. I find fresh clean bedding to feel so good after a shower."

"I've slept on the floor for so long. It's a lot to just be allowed in a bed now", Whumpee whispered.

"I'm sure it is, and I'm sorry you're overwhelmed by it all", Caretaker started to untuck the blankets, "I promise you, you deserve to sleep in your bed. You have done everything required of a good slave. Now take your reward. Think of your recovery as your reward. All of this is so well deserved."

Whumpee smiled weakly.

Chills ran up their spine as they climbed into the bed. The sheets tingled against their skin.

Caretaker smiled as they pulled the blankets up for Whumpee. They tucked in Whumpee's bear from the hospital.

"You look quite cozy", Caretaker moved some of Whumpee's hair out of their face.

"It-it feels different... a good different", Whumpee answered.

"You remember where my room is right?", Caretaker smiled, "you can come get me any time tonight... for any reason."

"Yes Caretaker", Whumpee nodded.

"Very good", Caretaker smiled, "well, I guess I'm going to leave you to it. I hope you have a goodnight sleep. You deserve it. Unless otherwise, I will see you in the morning."

"Goodnight Caretaker. Thankyou for everything, I appreciate how patient and merciful you are to me", Whumpee smiled.

"You're welcome", Caretaker winked, "it's not hard to be patient with you. I hope you know that. Goodnight Whumpee."

Caretaker was up a little later.

They texted Don to update them on how the rest of the day had gone.

Caretaker stepped into Whumpee's room to check on them before they went off to bed.

Whumpee had gotten into a comfortable position and was quietly snoring.

"You have a long road of recovery. Whatever that person has done to you has hurt you greatly. I'm going to help you. You'll be alright" Caretaker whispered as they watched Whumpee, "I'm sorry for what you've been through, but it's over now. All that's left is the rest of your life."

Whumpee moved slightly in their sleep, and quickly began snoring again.

Caretaker adjusted the blanket.

"Goodnight Whumpee", Caretaker smiled as they left the room and hurried to bed, "they had another day tomorrow."

Taglist. As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all.

@villainsandheroes @the-beasts-have-arrived

@sacredwrath @porschethemermaid

@monarchthefirst @generic-whumperz

@bloodyandfrightened @freefallingup13

@notpeppermint @cyborg0109

@idontreallyexistyet @painfulplots

@whumpbump @everythingsscary

@skittles-the-whumpee @expressionless-fr

@theforeverdyingperson @legendarydelusiongoatee

@candleshopmenace @whumpanthems

@lavndvrr @ivymyers

@starfields08000 @a-living-canvas

@lumpofsand @watermeezer

@indigoviolet311 @whumpy-mountains

@risk606 @electrons2006

@paperprinxe @whumprince

@kaz-of-crows @mis-graves

@decaffeinatedtimetraveler94 @sausages-things

@isikedmyself878 @daffyduckcommittedtaxfraud

@valravnthefrenchie @glennemerald

@jasperthecapser @does-directions

@deafeninglittlecrown @jumpywhumpywriter

@blackbirdsinatrenchcoat @mylifeisonthebookshelf

@thenormalestever @whatwhump

@galatic-worm @starmoon-constellation

@bacillusinfection @whumpsandbumps

@tobiasbones @octopus-reactivated

@string-of-broken-hearts @weirdthingweee

@kawaii-cakes @phoenixpromptsandstuff

@alyscat

[eclipseberrycake]

Poly! MoonBerryCake x Reader Pt. 10

AN: There was a request for how they all said I love you and I decided I wanted to do it :) I'm trying to decide how I want the timeline of like the serious/lore stuff to go, and if I want to do it now or wait. I'm almost at 150 followers so maybe I'll do it for that :D

This was a request but atp it's just as much for me as it is for y'all

Part One -> Part Two -> Part Three -> Part Four -> Part Five -> Part Six -> Part Six 1/2 -> Part Seven -> Part Eight -> Part Nine -> Part Nine 1/2

Warning: Cosmo's bit gets a little steamy idk what happened maybe im ovulating or sum./hj

☁ I love relationship building so much. You guys have no idea, especially with Food Coma boys. (Which is also apparently one of their ship names omg???)

☁ So, I think it's easiest to honestly go one by one with these boys. As I've established before, they each have their own things and moments with each other as well, just to note, so like please don't think this relationship is they're all in love with Reader and not each other. I had someone message me with concerns regarding that, and I just wanna clear the air! They all love each other and Reader very much and are one big happy unit :D So I hope this kind of help mends any questions because I tried adding more...yk MBC moments without reader involved! (That sounds bad but you'll see)

☁ That being said, they all get their own moments FIRST. And while Sprout got you all together, Astro is the catalyst for most of it. Cosmo has his own moments later, dw.

☁ He's a quiet guy, don't get that wrong, but he's such a lover. He's so used to hiding in the background and hoping people don't notice him because he was so insecure about himself, his personality, his looks and thoughts and opinions and-

☁ He was just...scared of the world, he supposes. But you three had a way of just...making it better. Not so scary.

☁ He shows his love in a variety of ways. Small acts of service and physical touch are big ones, quality time too. He absolutely adores just...being with you guys in any capacity. He doesn't like to make big spectacles about his love for you all, but he does love making sure you all know it. So if that takes something a little more obvious then what he's used to doing, he's willing to do it.

☁ He says it to Cosmo first, suckas. It's not something he plans, no, it just slips out. They're in the middle of the first (of what would become many) horror movie nights they'd share, just the two of them. Sprout was busy with plans he previously made with Vee and you encourage the two of them to spend some time alone just the two of them, taking Coal and Pebble to the training room for some exercise.

☁ Cosmo's energy is not as vibrant as yours and Sprouts, it's much softer and gentler, a welcoming embrace despite the tense atmosphere of the room. They had set up on the bed, with snacks and drinks at the ready, leaning against a mountain of pillows cuddled up against each other. The movie was mid at best, with cheap attempts at scares, but they joked it would make you and Sprout jump just the same.

☁ There was a lull in the movie where Cosmo was telling him about Razzle and Dazzle's recent attempt at comedy when it just...slipped? Maybe it was the reflection of Cosmo's eyes, the reflection from the duo of colors or just the way he used his hands to emphasize his distaste with the finn-esque puns they attempted, but it bubbled up and spilt out before he could stop it.

☁ "I love you." It was as simple as that, just those three words, but they made Cosmo stop all the same. He stilled, blinked and immediately snapped all of his attention to Astro, who was just about to fly into a flurry of apologies and pleas to just forget about it, but he was stopped by the feeling of Cosmo's lips pressing against his, his curled tail wagging wildly behind him.

☁ When he pulled away, his eyes shined with tears even as Astro wiped away the ones he could. "Oh, nightlight, I love you too."

☁ Sprout was next for Astro. The two mains already previously had a relationship, so they fell back into step pretty easily, the only difference really being more physical touch between them. They're used to spending time together, so when you and Cosmo are away on a common's exclusive run, it's no skin off their teeth.

☁ Before looking through old files and things, I imagine Sprout uses Astro as a taste tester as, unlike you and Cosmo, he'll be honest with him about adjustments that need to be made. Sprout has him relatively trained enough to tell if there's too much salt, too much butter, if it's overmixed or not folded well enough.

☁ So they use the opportunity to try more...temperamental recipes. Macrons are at the top of Sprout's list, constantly trying, and subsequently failing, to perfect the twitchy cookie. This was the fourth session of trying.

☁ Astro has no issues regarding this as he gets the failed cookies regardless and he gets to spend one on one time with Sprout, so a win is a win in his book.

☁ Plus, seeing the berry's leaves up in a ponytail stirs something fluttery in Astro's gut that he doesn't quite want to address just yet, much less when he adds a bandana to keep the smaller bits at bay.

☁ It all seemed to be going well, up until Sprout pulled the cookies out, only to look absolutely crushed at the concaved shells and lack of feet. The tray is practically thrown onto the counter as Sprout passes, Astro clicking his tongue sympathetically as he welcomes the defeated berry into his chest, wrapping his cloak around him. Astro is only half convinced he won't cry, but will be there even if he does.

☁ "I hate these stupid cookies." Sprout mumbles, and Astro hums. "And the French." Astro hums again, refraining from voicing the thought that there's no way the entirety of France is to blame here.

☁ "It's okay. Flat cookies or not, I still love you." He mumbled back, brushing back the strands in the ponytail, watching the greenery bounce back- rather amused by it until Sprout is suddenly pulling away, hands racing to squeeze the celestials cheeks. "What?!"

☁ "I-" Sprout shakes his head, not letting Astro continue. "No, I heard it. I'm mostly bummed because how did you beat me?!"

☁ "Beat you?"

☁ "I was supposed to say it to you first!" The berry, dare he say, whines, throwing his head back before it's whipping forward, slowing before it collides with the Celestial's own heads, gently laying against his forehead. "I love you, Astro Novalite. Never forget it, yeah?"

☁ "Or what?" Astro teases, barely getting another word before Sprout is on him, hands still holding his cheeks as his lips swallow Astro's own laughter.

☁ Now, welcome back to the story, Reader :). We missed you! As an apology for kicking you out momentarily to watch the boys be boys in love, lets start you off with ASTRO >:D

☁ I have a favorite, if you couldn't tell. (It's all of them and I struggle to split the parts between each of their POVS)

☁ So for you, Astro doesn't approach it the same way. No, he owes you so much for so many reasons and needs something much further. You were the one who got the majority of the research to bring him back, having to distract his twisted form over and over and over again. You were the one to use the antidote, cornering him and carrying him back to the elevator. You were the one to ease him back into the swing of things, playing guard dogs when the other commons became a bit too much for him so soon after his return. You were there, with Cosmo of course, during the entirety of his recovery, sneaking him treats and threading tales of the runs you've done to keep him entertained.

☁ It's not as graceful as you think.

☁ Sprout and Cosmo are in the kitchen and you're laying down for a midday nap, inviting Astro to come with since you know he, more than anyone, loves a good nap. He eagerly accepts, walking with you back to your room with a little skip in his step.

☁ Except for the first time...ever, he can't sleep. You're already dozing beside him, chest rising and falling with your back moving in time with under the hand he's keeping between your shoulders. He's practically thrumming with energy as if he used his own ability on himself.

☁ He thinks for a moment what you normally do when he's asleep and you're feeling wide awake. He immediately comes to his solution, grinning.

☁ "Hey," He pokes your cheek and your brows furrow. "Hey, I need you to un-sleep for a second."

☁ "What are you going on about-" You groan, words slurring slightly as one of your eyes just barely peek open. "If I give you a kiss will you...not."

☁ "Nope." He pops his 'P', making you groan. "I need you to know how much I adore you and care for you and how if you never wake up from your dreams its because I'm living the dream by being one of the ones you chose."

☁ "If you don't wake up from your dreams, it's because I suffocated you with your pillow!" You hiss, scrunching your eyes shut much tighter as you curl into your blanket, which is really just his stolen cloak. "Now go to beeeed."

☁ "I love you." He purrs, watching in real time as your eyes pop open and stare at him. You have to hide your grin before your raising to lean on your hands. "I love you too!" You say with all the ferocity of an angry kitten.

☁ You give him a kiss, a nuzzle of your foreheads and a quick glare before laying back down on his chest, waiting a second before closing your eyes, as if daring him to speak again.

☁ "And another thing-"

☁ "OKAY-" You're sitting up again, this time planting your hands on his shoulders as he laughs up at you. "Lay down."

☁ "I'm laying down." He teases, finding too much entertainment in your reaction at having the tables turned on you. He's been awoken many a times to you leaning over him, poking him if only to tell him about how it's raining outside or some weird miniscule thing you suddenly remembered.

☁ "I love you." You start, jabbing his chest. "But I don't play like this." You sneer. Then you lay down and press a kiss to his lips once more. "You're very cute." You growl, laying back down. This time he lets you with a small chuckle, quick to follow you into dreamland.

☁ If you think that doesn't become a habit between you two, I hate to tell you. It does. Sprout and Cosmo are so over it.

☁ Sprout is next for you dear reader.

☁ It's probably sometime after Vee's retrieval, when you're supposed to be resting, but are not, sneaking into the kitchen you were banned from.

☁ Your sock padded feet are nearly silent against the tile in the kitchen, blanket swishing against the floor as you reach for the utensil drawer, grabbing a spoon before reaching into one of the cabinets, blindly reaching for your treat of choice. Your fingers wrap around it, pulling it free as you beam at it.

☁ Getting a pudding cup past Sprout these days was a challenge all on it's own, but this had been a well planned heist. Even while injured, you were relatively fast, contorting your body to escape the hold Cosmo had on you. You carefully stepped out of bed down near the foot of it, staying a few seconds just to ensure the three behind you stayed asleep. They did, with minimal scuffling to fill in the gap. You let out a sigh of relief, grabbing the blanket you planted at the end of the bed the night before before making your way to the kitchen.

☁ All for a pudding cup.

☁ Looking at said treat, you wilt a bit at what your life has come to in terms of pudding.

☁ Still, you peel it open and eagerly dig your spoon into it, bringing it to your mouth only to freeze at the eyes peering at you. You pause, stilling your actions as they blink. You blink. Then you shake your head, eyes pleading silently.

☁ "Pebs, buddy. C'mon, think of all we've been through." You plead, watching the rock stare you down. His tail wags and you think for a moment you've won.

☁ "Arf!"

☁ It echoes in the hall and you nearly sob at it. It would only wake one person, but that one person is the one you planned so hard to get around all for it to be foiled by the dog.

☁ "I hate you." You sneer at the oddly proud looking pup. " I'm giving you a bath later." The threat falls on deaf ears as Pebble runs in a circle, tail continuing to wag.

☁ He barks again, but you don't care. The damage has been done. Frankly, you really should blame Gigi. She started the whole pudding cup fiasco.

☁ Pebble runs off behind you and you take a moment for a deep breath before turning. As predicted, Sprout is there, gently scratching Pebble's chin, slipping him a treat before standing. Pebble takes it and runs off somewhere, leaving you in the clutches of the Warden. He looks at you, but rather than the normal face he has when he scolds, he's smiling. It almost looks like he's trying not to laugh.

☁ "What are you laughing at?" You snip, and he nearly breaks, shaking his head. "Your face. You look like someone kicked your puppy."

☁ You pout further and he laughs before walking over, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before continuing further into the kitchen, grabbing an apron as he goes. You watch him skeptically, eyes darting to your pudding then back to him. When he turns to check on you, haven't heard you move at all, he raises a brow. "What's up, bud?"

☁ "You're just gonna...let me have it?" You raise a brow, not trusting the situation. He scoffs good naturedly at this. "I'm honestly more surprised you aren't sick of it for life. If you want a pudding cup this morning, I won't stop you. One is where I draw the line though."

☁ You hum slowly, taking a spoonful of your treat once more and sticking it in your mouth. it makes your tail wag as you walk to the barstools around the counter, perching yourself on one as you watch Sprout work, getting everything ready for the morning.

☁ "Do you ever get tired of doing this?" You ask, tilting your head. Sprout hums at the question, turning on the coffee pot and pulling out a mug for himself. "No. I like doing it. The mornings are nice. Calm. Moreso when I have certain people joining me." He grins. "The usual for you?"

☁ You nod and he gets you your beverage of choice, pouring himself his own cup of coffee. "Waffles or pancakes?"

☁ "Waffles." You answer him, watching as he works. It's a smooth, flawless things, and one of the many things you love about him. The thought hits you like a brick, stunning you in your chair. He slides you your beverage of choice, raising an imaginary brow. "...Are you sure you're okay?"

☁ "I love you." You breath out, and his cheeks flush a darker red. "I love you, Sprout. Like a lot a lot." You blurt out and he stalls for a second, hands twitching for a second as he seems to reboot.

☁ Your knees lay on the stool as you push up to get closer to him over the counter. "Did I break you?"

☁ His hands shoot up, grabbing your cheeks and pressing a hard kiss to your lips. It dazes you just a bit as you swoon, your knees nearly giving out from under you. He catches your weight and laughs at you, gently setting you back down before rounding the counter, quickly repeating the kiss. When he pulls away he's beaming, squishing your cheeks. "I love you too, bud. Now, let's get you fed."

☁ Now, Cosmo, the sweet cinnamon roll cake roll baby bitch ass.

☁ You two, like Sprout and Astro, have a bit of a history together, so you guys spend time together all the time. Whether it's doing something like play wrestling in the bedroom, doing a workout together or lazing about playing video games, if either of you can't be found, there's a good chance you're with each other somewhere, goofing off while the other two are busy.

☁ I've established beforehand that he lets you just hang off him at all times (In the pudding part i think thats pt 3), but my personal HC is that Cosmo is jacked. He's got muscles and uses them without even trying.

☁ Like if he's cleaning and you're in the way, you're thrown over his shoulder in a fireman carry as he continues on. Astro needs help reaching a top shelf, Cosmo is there giving him a boost. Even if he's not careful, he'll life Sprout up in the middle of a hug. Like he's just so unaware of how strong he is.

☁ So you're probably with him while he's doing a quick workout, counting as he does pushups, swatting at his tail every time he raises. He flickers it back at you as he lowers, making it a game between you two.

☁ His shoulders move with every restart of the cycle, making your eyes track them and every flex of his muscles, hearing every one of his grunts.

☁ (Bro i need to be caged what is with me and Cosmo omg)

☁ You swat at his tail again and he stills at the upright position, arms shaking just a bit. "You having fun back there?"

☁ "I'm having a blast. Number 65 by the way. You having fun down there?" You tease, gently pulling the tail from it's normally curled position only to release and watch it curl right back.

☁ "Oh, just the greatest time." He grunts again, lowering once more. One of your hands moving to run down his back, pressing against each of the muscles. "Do you let the other two do this?"

☁ "Who says I let you do this?" He throws back, still for a second before raising again. You press against the muscles, feeling the firm press of them against your palm.

☁ "I do. Because you lovveeee me~." You purr, hand moving to poke at some of the sprinkles in his icing. You had chosen a few of them today.

☁ He grunts again, tail swiping a few times before he chuckles, bringing his knees under him so he can sit up. You yelp as you fall, shaking your head before shooting a glare at him.

☁ He's already smirking down at you, taking a swig from his nearby water bottle. "Maybe I do. What of it?"

☁ "You don't drop people you love first off." You scoff, immediately swallowing you next complaint as the cake roll traps you between himself and the floor.

☁ "However will I make it up to you after letting you ride my back for the past however long." He snickers before leaning down to press a kiss to your lips. "I love you."

☁ Your arms wrap around his neck, deepening the kiss enough you can hear his tail pick up it's wagging pace. When you separate, you grin at him. His eyes darken at the look before he's scooping you up and standing. "I'm not letting you start something in the public gym of all places."

☁ You loudly boo. "You never let me have any fun!" You cry out dramatically before huffing, smiling at the whole of it all fondly. "But, I love you too. Kill joy or not."

☁ "Bite me." Cosmo snuffs, yelping when you do exactly as he asks.

[hyperfocusfox]

So many of these comments on this post did not pass the vibe check so I wanted to add:

I am 30 and trans. (Genderfluid leans masc heavily)

I only have vague memories of the first 27 years of my life because I was so absolutely fucking horribly miserable every day of my life that my brain literally forgot it. Everything was a misery I was simply surviving.

A huge amount of being that miserable was not knowing I was trans. No joke.

And the MAIN REASON I didn't know I was trans was because my parents made it very clear from when I was a young child that they hated trans people and considered them gross and wrong and a sin against god. Very much not a 'letting your child express themself and listening respectfully' sort of environment. So I never allowed myself to even consider it as a possibility until I was outside of my parents influence. Because it wouldn't have been safe. My brain wouldn't even let me think about it.

Well all things considered how can I be so sure it was the lack of trans support making me miserable and not something else? Glad you asked. Here are some fun facts about me as a kid/teen.

I remember when I was really little and my parents stopped letting me run around without a shit on outside. And I was so confused and upset. Because my brother and my dad got to play outside without a shirt. Why not me? I didn't understand and was annoyed.

I always tried to act like one of the guys at school: climbing trees and roughhousing with people much more than anyone else. Tbh I was a bit too violent because I clearly didn't fit in and was overcompensating.

I used to be fascinated by the one or two trans kids at my school. I would watch them anytime they were around me and emotionally I ached. And I could never figure out why. And then I would have to pretend I hated them because my parents taught me I had to.

I used to watch YouTube videos of people who had top surgery and their experience with it. I would watch late at night when no one was awake and be captivated for hours. And then I would look up pictures of what people looked like after top surgery. And at that time it was much harder to find resources or images for. So I would look for hours. And then I would feel so upset afterwards and not know why. And I would pretend I didn't watch/see any of it because I felt so hurt and confused by my fascination with a topic that was supposed to be taboo.

Sometimes I would be spending time with adults and someone would share news that someone we knew had breast cancer or endometriosis. And I would feel JEALOUS. I would feel a deep jealousy. I would consider them lucky, while other people would mourn and cry over the need for necessary surgery such as mastectomies or hysterectomies. I would wish that were me. And then I would feel like a horrible awful shit person for thinking that. Because what the fuck right?

Do you want to know what it took to make me realize I was trans?

I had just disconnected from my parents and an abusive ex. It was the first time in my life I ever felt safe. The first time I was ever in a position to not be judged in 27 years of living.

And my trans friend was talking to their drunk coworker about them being nonbinary. And the drunk guy turned to me unceremoniously and said 'are you nonbinary too? Is that you as well?'

And I was literally stunned because no one had literally EVERY IN MY LIFE asked me about my gender before. And I gave the most awkward delayed stuttering reply of 'n-no. I'm a female.' It was not fucking convincing AT ALL to anyone present. Except for maybe the drunk guy who forgot he even asked the question by the time I replied. And I literally couldn't stop thinking about it. I thought about that until I literally realized I was trans.

That's it. That's all it took. Was me being in a nonjudgmental environment and for one single person to ask me my gender.

Having any freedom to explore my gender as a kid in a safe way with any amount of support from my family would have been fucking LIFE CHANGING. All the nonsurgical care approaches mentioned above would have been LIFE CHANGING for me as a child.

I still would have fumbled around for a bit trying to figure out what exactly was the right label. (Which I did as an adult anyways while feeling incredibly self conscious lol) But I would have come to the exact same conclusion years sooner with just any amount of support. And honestly it would have been less likely I made any permanent changes I regretted.

Being a full adult who had already gone through a puberty that didn't work for me made everything so much harder. All my decisions felt more pressured and more hectic because I was so desperate to lessen my dysphoria. My body was so mentally distressing to me that even while being very careful to make my decisions with the help of my therapist and my doctor it was still hard to tell what I was doing because it was what I wanted and what I was doing to just try anything to try to fix the dysphoria. (It worked out I'm good and happy with everything I decided to do.)

If I was transitioning as a kid I could have just paused puberty with blockers and then taken the time I needed to figure things out in a social setting without as much stress and crushing dysphoria from my physical body and being worried I needed to do everything right away or it was too late.

Gender affirming care is life changing care for trans people, especially kids. At all levels. The social support, the puberty blockers, the hormones, and even the surgeries. It saves lives. It keeps kids alive. We can skip whole arcs of trauma for these kids by just listening to them and respecting them and letting them figure it out. Please please please protect trans kids and their healthcare.

is it okay for a minor to go through and consent to life changing surgeries?

especially when they cannot drive, vote, get a tattoo, you think a minor has the ability to think through such a decision?

[setmeatopthepyre]

🐧🐧🐧🐧🐧🐧🐧🐧🐧🐧🐧🐧🐧🐧🐧

this took a little while, but I knew I wanted to write this scene especially for you and needed a little time to think about how to approach it. so here's a whole bunch of antarct-fic, just for you! this uh. got a little long.

-

It takes some time for Buck to get settled in, find his way around, discover the Skype stations, figure out the difference in timezones between Los Angeles and New Zealand-slash-McMurdo, and find a moment when the Skype stations aren't all occupied that also works for Maddie and Chim – but he gets there.

“-And so Brooke's walking in ahead of me, right? And she freezes -- No, Chim, not literally, haha, very funny – and she marches right up to Bucky, and keep in mind, Brooke is like, 5 foot, max, and Bucky is at least a foot taller – and she demands to know where Larry went. And that's when the rest of us realize, holy shit, Larry is gone. Just. Gone. Not a trace.”

Maddie and Chim are on screen, staring at him like they're expecting a punchline, and Buck realizes he may have skipped over a little bit of necessary context.

“Right, so, Bucky was the only one in the kitchen, because he was just there to get some of the baking prepared and to jump in if any of the people coming off night shift needed anything--”

“Wait, so this kitchen has a Bucky and a Buck?” Chimney asks, balancing a squirmy Jee on his knee. Maddie raises her eyebrows at him, like she had other questions, but--

“Oh! Yeah. Right, so. I'm Evan.”

Maddie squints at him. “We know you are.”

“At the station. Uh. This station. At McMurdo – or Mactown, as Katie calls it, but really, there's so many nicknames –uh. I'm Evan. Here. Because there were already a few Bucks, and, well, a Bucky. One of the Bucks also works in the galley, which is already confusing enough with a Bucky right there, you know? So I'm just. Just Evan, here.” He frowns a little, wondering if any of that made any sense. Or maybe the connection just froze up again?

“Wow,” Maddie says slowly, carefully. “How do you... feel about that?”

He takes a second to think about it. “It's... a little weird. But not in a bad way? It's kind of... nice. Like-- like I'm a new person? I know that's probably dumb--”

“No, Buck, that's not dumb,” Maddie says quickly, and she's smiling, and Chim's expression has softened as well, matching Maddie's. It makes warmth spread in Buck's chest, though it's followed closely by something achy settling in his stomach.

“I miss you,” he confesses.

Maddie's eyes are a little wet. “We miss you too. And Jee misses her uncle Buck. Or- should we say uncle Evan?”

Buck huffs a laugh, and that heaviness dissipates, at least a little bit. “No, no, uncle Buck is-- that's good. I'm still getting used to people I don't know calling me Evan. So.”

“Buck it is,” Maddie smiles, and he can feel her warm affection even across the continents between them.

“Well this is a beautiful little moment,” Chimney says, aiming for teasing but failing miserably due to how his whole face is crinkled into a smile. “But back to the story, uncle Buck," and Jee-yun echoes Uncle Buck!, slightly muffled, from somewhere just out of frame. Her pink-legginged legs kick into view a second later, just barely missing Maddie's face.

Buck takes a minute to enjoy the happy little family wrestling on his screen. That ache is back. He's fairly sure it's homesickness, and isn't it weird that he isn't sure he's ever really felt that before? He's missed the vague concept of home before – usually in the form of Maddie, when she was back in Boston – but never really in this way, where he can point to a place on a map where his people, his family are, and miss them.

Well, most of his people.

One of them is right here where Buck is. If he still wants to be. His people, that is. His person.

He clears his throat. “Right. So. Uh. Where was I?”

“You were talking about someone who went missing?” Maddie prompts.

“Uh. Right! Yes. Larry. So Brooke, obviously, immediately assumed Bucky had something to do with it--”

“Wait, I'm confused,” Maddie interjects straight away. “If Bucky was the only one who was supposed to be in the kitchen, how did Brooke know Larry was missing?”

“Oh, good point, detective,” Chimney says, then winces when Jee lets out a loud squeal right next to his ear. Maddie grimaces in sympathy at the same time Buck does.

“Oh, because Larry is always in the kitchen,” Buck explains.

“Always? How?” Chim asks, looking seriously at the screen while Jee giggles and squirms in his lap, one of Chim's hands clasped over her mouth. He raises his hands in dramatic mock surrender when she starts snapping her teeth at him.

“Didn't I say?” Buck frowns. “Larry's our mascot.”

Maddie sputters. “Larry's not a person?”

“No? One of the overwinters a couple of years ago made him out of the cutlery that got chewed up in the dishwasher, and the galley crew just... keeps adding to him.”

“You're telling me you have some sort of... cutlery homunculus named Larry watching over your kitchen?”

“Well, not anymore," Buck points out. "That's the problem. He's gone.”

There's a silence in which both Maddie and Chimney take a second to process this new information, and then Chim's getting up to fix Jee a snack and get her set up with some coloring sheets, and Maddie tells him about her latest check-up and how everything is still looking good with the pregnancy, and that they're debating if they want to know the gender ahead of time or not. It isn't until a little later, when Chimney comes back into view and Buck is fairly sure he's maxing out his time at the Skype station, that Maddie broaches the subject he'd kind of been hoping he'd gotten away with avoiding.

“So, while learning about your-- uh, Larry? – is fun, what we really want to know is... how did things go with Tommy?” She's smiling kindly, being gentle about it, so very Maddie, but Buck's leg is shaking enough to make the screen move a little and he needs to consciously force his jitters to a halt.

“Uh. It hasn't. Yet?”

“What do you mean?” Chimney asks, offering Maddie a slice of apple with peanut butter. Apparently Jee isn't the only one who got snacks.

“We haven't really talked yet,” Buck admits.

“Okay, so you haven't talked-talked yet. But how did he react?”

Buck shifts in his seat. “React when?”

“How did he react when he saw--” Chimney stops mid-word and mid-chew. “Now wait a second, Buckley. Tommy hasn't seen you yet, has he?”

And fine, maybe Buck bristles a bit. “Well, it's not like--”

Maddie interrupts him, momentarily saving him from having to think up some flimsy defense on the spot. “Hold on, you've been there a week, and... Buck, does Tommy even know you're there?”

Buck dips his head, wonders if he can fake connection issues, but he knows the guilt of cutting their call short would probably eat him alive. “Maybe,” he mumbles instead. “I don't know. Probably not?”

Honestly, Buck thinks, the news that Larry got kidnapped – cutlerynapped? homunculusnapped? – should be way more shocking than the fact that, okay, maybe he has been avoiding Tommy just a little bit. Just until he, you know, figures out what to do, what to say. But Maddie and Chim are gaping at him as if he's just admitted he's decided to move in with the nearest penguin colony and leave his human life behind.

It's almost a relief, then, when a woman taps him on the shoulder and asks him if he's okay to wrap up soon so she can talk to her husband before he has to leave for his night shift. Buck wraps up their call, promising pictures of penguins for Jee as soon as possible, no time to explain that he needs to follow some sort of training before he's allowed off-base, but he can tell them about that next time. Whenever that next time is.

That achy feeling lingers, even after he hangs up.

-

[make me write]

[sunsetsover]

there's something about that scene in the pool. bc like. bison and kant are recreating the car scene from titanic. and kant is supposed to be jack and bison is supposed to be rose. and bison takes kant's hand and kisses all his fingers like rose does jack. but the thing is that bison isn't laying in kant's arms like rose is laying in jack's. it's kant that's laying in bison's arms. kant who is held and kissed like rose is. kant who's hand slams against the window - and it's pretend and it's a question but still. he's still asking aren't you gonna do that to me too? and bison is like sure, once i have you in a real car. and it's like. when did kant become rose? when did bison become jack? at what point did things change?

obviously kant lying on bison's chest is supposed to be a neat parallel to the swing scene. but i think it's more than that. and i admit i am famous for reading too much into things, but i think it's probably kind of lowkey a commentary on their relationship too. bc like... kant and bison have never fit into a neat little box when it comes to their relationship OR their sexual dynamic. even sitting here i'm having a hard time articulating it properly bc it's like... it's own little thing. you just have to see it and let it talk for itself. and i think some people have a hard time w that, either bc they don't like unorthodox relationship dynamics (boring!) or they're so locked into what a relationship between 2 men is 'supposed' to be like (and this goes doubly so where kantbison r concerned imo bc of the age and the size difference) that they can't understand what they're seeing in front of them. bison lays in kant's arms and it's 'see! how can bison be a dom! he just thinks that's what he wants bc of the trauma of his upbringing but he's clearly the baby!'. which is just like... crazy to me.

bc can you not feel it? can you not feel that kant is literally completely at bison's mercy? how, while clearly bison isn't super interested in maintaining a dom/sub dynamic outside of sexual situations, there's always an undercurrent of it anyway now? of kant being completely tuned into bison's frequency? bc yes, it's true that kant does baby bison physically with all his kisses and affection and the way he tucks him under his arm and helps him flip fish and hold the hammer at the arcade bc it's too heavy. but it's also true that he kind of behaves like a kid around bison sometimes. he whines and he brags and he pouts and he makes silly jokes. it's always kinda been there, but over the past few episodes you can really see it in their little moments together. how he acts immature. how he rambles. how he seeks bison out. bc it's safe now! bc he trusts bison to look after him! he knows now he can be silly and brattish bc that's how bison likes him! he doesn't have to be cool or suave anymore. he can put it all down and let himself be looked after for once.

and don't get me wrong, it's subtle! and it's not constant! their personalities are still undoubtedly there - kant still still looks after bison, and bison also still pouts and whines and acts childish in his own way. but it's different now. there has just been this very subtle shift that's probably come as a result of the truth being out and all being forgiven and also probably bison proving that if kant safewords, he really will stop - even in the most extreme of situations. and i think the scene in the pool really epitomizes that shift for me.

bc they're comfortable like that now. all that apprehension they both used to have in the early eps is completely gone. and so kant plays jack and bison plays rose, but when bison pulls kant through that metaphorical window, the dynamic changes. what was just a background hum starts to buzz louder between them. bison kisses his fingers like rose does, but instead of being held, he's the one holding, and that's on purpose. they both know it. so kant lets himself be held now. lets himself be doted on and kissed stupid. and it clearly affects him quite a lot bc you see him swallow heavily twice and his eyes keep slipping closed and for a few seconds you see him go all hazy eyed and distant. and when bison assures him he WILL fuck him once he gets him in a real car he hits him with the 'you promise 🥺️'. like how am i not supposed to say sub idk.

anyway. this was rambly and idk if it made any sense to anyone but me but i just think the way kantbison's relationship dynamic is not being clean cut or easy to pinpoint while it's also still always clear as fucking day exactly what is going on is so neat. and also kant is undeniably bison's big baby <3

[anjee0]

Road trip

Female!reader x 2000s!Eminem (Feel free to put in your own oc insert)

Description - Y/n and her friends get invited by Marshall's and his friends for a road trip, where things take an unexpected twist between Y/n and Marshall.

Warnings - Light swearing, Y/n and Marshall hated each other, awkward and tense scenes, light smut.

Requested by @sweetmusicvoid

i thought it might be neat to have some sort of friend group where the reader and marsh are kind of enemies, and the group is going on a road trip together. but she’s forced to sit on his lap in this trailer that’s attached to the car. tension, light smut, etc. anyway, it was just a thought :)

“Y/n, please!” Carla begged as she tried to pull Y/n out of her bed.

“Please! It'll be fun!” Ashley exclaimed, also trying to pull Y/n out.

“Girls, I already said no. Especially if Marshall is going to be there.” Y/n replied, adding a dramatic scoff to the end of her sentence.

Y/n and Marshall hated each other's guts for as long as they could both remember. Something about his cocky attitude and bursting ego made her see him solely as an unlikeable person. And now that he had become famous, selling over a million records on his latest album, his attitude and ego only continued to inflate.

However, Y/n's friends and Marshall's friends were close with each other, meaning that the pair would see each other quite frequently. Him and his friends planned on going on a car ride with a trailer attached to the back. They'd also decided to invite Y/n and her friends.

“You know, for someone who hates Marshall, you seem to talk about him a lot.” Carla teased.

Ashley smirked, wanting to join in on the bantering fun. “And I see the way you both look at each other. Especially Marshall.”

“Oh my gosh. Guys, seriously, you sound like little kids. I don’t like him like that. I don’t like him at all.”

“Whatever you say.” Carla joked.

“And what's so fun about going on a car ride with a trailer attached to the back? Like what do we do?” Y/n asked.

“Well, we're going to drive to a quiet place first, then we're gonna hang out in the trailer. Have some drinks, eat some food and so on.” Ashley said.

“Hang out in a trailer? All 6 of us?” Y/n questioned.

“Yes.” Carla replied. “I know it sounds boring but it's going to be great!”

“Is drinking in a cramped space with 6 people a good idea?” Y/n asked.

“The trailer’s not that small. Remember, the guys are super rich so they were able to get their hands on quite a big trailer.” Ashley said.

“Y/n, please. It’ll be so worth it.” Carla pleaded.

“I still don't believe you but I guess I'll go then.” Y/n said, reluctantly giving in.

Carla and Ashley whooped cheerily as they jumped onto the bed with Y/n, happy to know that she was tagging along.

“But I'm ignoring Marshall.”

“Ignore Marshall all you want, we're just glad to hear you're coming. Alright, get changed.” Ashley said.

Y/n got changed into a mini black dress where the hemline sat just right on her upper thigh. It was decorated with small ruffles and tied with silky white ribbons in the back. She got changed into a shiny and stunning— yet comfortable pair of black boots. To top it off, she wore her hair in a half-up half-down, bringing her outfit all together.

A while later, Denaun, Proof and Marshall pulled up in front of Y/n’s house in their car. Denaun honked the horn repeatedly, letting the girls know that they were outside. The girls wasted no time rushing outside and opening the car door to let themselves in. Denaun and Proof sat in the front, whilst Marshall sat in the back. A grey medium-sized trailer was attached to the back. Y/n still had her doubts on how spacious it could be.

“Hey ladies.” Denaun greeted. “Are we ready to go?”

“Sure are.” Carla replied as she got in the car, sliding herself next to Marshall. 

Ashley followed up after her, filling up the seats in the backseat. Y/n caught a flash of a cocky smirk on Marshall’s face.

“Uh oh. Seats are filled up. You can stay back at home.” Marshall teased.

“Fuck you Marshall.” Y/n retorted. “Can you guys move up please?” She asked her friends.

Without any hesitation, Carla and Ashely moved up as much they could, only leaving a sliver of space for Y/n to sit on. She had a moment of hesitation before she sat down and closed the door. She'd have to admit, she felt awfully uncomfortable. Her body felt sandwiched between the car door and Ashely. The space felt tight, just like her chest as she struggled to take a proper breath.

“Jeez, how tiny is your car?” Carla asked. “I'm suffocating here.”

“Guess there's not enough space for 4 people.” Y/n muttered.

“What do we do?” Ashley asked.

“One of you can sit on my lap.” Marshall suggested with a smug look on his face.

“Wow Marshall. Honestly I'm not surprised, being the guy you are, of course you would suggest-” Y/n started to ramble.

“Chill, Y/n. I don't want you sitting on my lap. I was talking to Ashley and Carla.” He interrupted.

Y/n scoffed and muttered a small “Whatever” under her breath as she rolled her eyes. She couldn't help but feel a bolt of jealousy to strike in her system. She immediately shook her head of those thoughts, convincing herself that she wasn't jealous.

“I'll pass.” Carla said.

“Same here.” Ashley replied.

“Well, we're gonna have to figure something out.” Proof said. “And you'll have to do it quickly.”

“Well I guess Y/n sitting on my lap doesn't sound like a nightmare.” Marshall mumbled, but still loud enough for everyone to hear.

“No way.” Y/n replied, feeling disgusted at the thought of even going near him.

Ashley leaned into Y/n's ear and softly whispered. “You're our only chance.”

“I am not sitting on his lap.”

“Y/n please?” Carla pleaded. “We will leave you alone after this.”

Y/n sighed, accepting her defeat and reluctantly giving in. “Fine whatever. But you guys owe me.”

Carla and Ashley immediately thanked her as she got out of the car and went to the other side. Y/n opened the door and gave a disappointed look to Marshall, who looked smugly thrilled.

“Hurry up, princess.” Marshall said with a dumb smirk on his face.

“Don't call me that.” Y/n replied sharply, making her way into his lap.

As Y/n sat on his lap, she felt a strange feeling brewing in her stomach, it only continued to rise when he put his arms around her waist.

“You don't have to do that.” She said, taking his arms off her.

“But you don't have a seat belt.” Marshall replied.

“So you're trying to be my seat belt?”

“Pretty much.”

“I'm fine.”

“Whatever you want.”

Moments later, the car started up and they were all driving off. Conversations emerged from the group as the car drive progressed. Y/n would put her two cents in every now and then, but would spend most her time listening.

During the car ride, Y/n could feel Marshall's eyes boring into the back of her skull. She could feel his eyes wandering all over the back of her head, probably pulling off a smirk.

Suddenly, the car hit a sudden stop, making everyone fall forward. As Y/n tumbled forward, she could see she was about to hit her face on the headrest in front of her. But before that could happen, Marshall wrapped his arms around her and pulled her back to prevent any damage. Her back rested against his chest, his arms still around her. Luckily, everyone had their seatbelts on to prevent anything bad. 

“Shit. Is everyone okay?” Denaun asked, looking back.

“What was up with the sudden break?” Proof asked.

“Saw a cat run across the street.”

Y/n let go of Marshall's hold and sat up properly, fixing herself up. Marshall leaned forward slightly and whispered in her ear: “Are you okay?” His hot breath tickled against her skin, gliding down her neck. 

Y/n felt a strange airy feeling in her chest and stomach as she tried to keep her composure. “I'm fine.” She responded.

For the rest of the car ride, Marshall had his arms around her, holding her close. Y/n felt a sense of comfort and reassurance in his touch, something she would've never expected.

Eventually, the car stopped in the middle of a field, surrounded by a deep woods. Y/n stepped out of the car, feeling relieved. The sky was dark and littered with twinkling stars. 

“Yo there's a pizza place nearby here. We should head there. It's walking distance.” Proof said.

“Alright, let's go then.” Carla said.

“I'll stay here.” Y/n said.

“Are you sure?” Ashley asked.

“Yeah, I'm kinda tired. I might just rest in the trailer then.”

“Let me open it for you.” Denaun said. He took his keys out of his pocket and fiddled around looking for the correct key. He finally found the correct one and put the key in the door to unlock it.

Y/n thanked him before stepping in and closing the door behind her. A wave of shock hit her when she saw the inside of the trailer. It was spacious and definitely had the capacity to fit 6 people in. The outside definitely gave it an different impression. There was at the door at the end that led to a cosy looking bedroom. There were two beds on both sides, making the bedroom a bit cramped, but still cosy.

Y/n threw her shoes off and belly flopped onto the bed. Her head hit the soft cushiony pillows that brought her comfort. The thick blanket felt warm against her cold body. She relaxed against the bed, feeling calm and steady. She basked herself in tranquil atmosphere that surrounded her.

The moment was quickly interrupted when the door swung wide open, ruining the peacefulness. When Y/n looked up, she was confused to see Marshall standing at the door, looking at her with the same confused expression.

“What are you doing here?” She mumbled, sitting up.

“I'm tired so I said I'd go rest. They didn't tell me you were in here.” 

“Well I'm tired too.”

Marshall sat on the bed across from her and leaned against the wall with his knees up. He sighed and rested his arms on his knees whilst he dropped his head down.

“Whats up with you?” Y/n asked.

“Nothing. Just tired is all. Working on the next album.”

“Already? Didn't you come out with one recently?”

“Yeah I know-”

“If I were you, I would try to appreciate the moment, instead of working my ass non-stop.”

“Don't tell me what to do.” 

Y/n chuckled and shook her head. “You know I'm right, asshole.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes before Marshall lifted his head and decided to speak up. “Why do you hate me so much?”

“Well, because you're annoying.” 

“Yeah right.”

“What?”

“You like me, don't you?”

“Excuse me?” 

“You like me. Romantically.”

Y/n scoffed, feeling a spike of annoyance in her blood. “Listen, Marshall. Just because you're famous now and you have a bunch of groupies jumping on you, doesn't mean that every girl that looks at you likes you. Especially me.”

She got off the bed and made her way to the door, only for Marshall to grab her hand, stopping her. Y/n turned to look at him, immediately noticing the realness in his eyes.

“Sit. Please.” He asked, his voice firm.

Something about his serious tone made Y/n give in and sit next to him. His hand let go of hers.

“You know I was just messing around right?” He went back to resting against the wall. “I was just teasing.”

“Right, is that why you stopped me from leaving? To tell me that?”

“Mhm.”

A moment of silence and hesitation hung in the air between them. Y/n looked around, trying to escape the awkwardness surrounding her in the room. 

They had a quick second of eye contact, in which Y/n was able to take a proper look at Marshall’s face. His eyes looked drained from any emotion, and looked hollow and empty of any feelings. His lips were lightly pressed into a small frown.

“Are you okay?” Y/n asked.

“I'm fine.”

“You seem off.”

“Just stressed.”

“From work?”

“Yeah.”

“Then why don't you take a break?”

“It's not that easy.”

“Maybe you need some to help you take your mind off it.”

“That's what this is for. Proof and Denaun were concerned I was overworking myself.”

“Maybe you are.”

“Maybe I am.”

Another beat of silence quickened in the air, although quick, it was slow enough to let tension build up even more.

“And you?” Marshall asked. “How are you doing?”

Y/n sighed and leaned against the wall next to Marshall. “I'm stressed with work too. My boss is driving me nuts.”

Marshall let out a quiet chuckle. “It can be like that. Maybe you need something to help take your mind off it too.”

“Maybe I do. But nothing ever works.”

“This is.”

“What is?”

“This. Us talking. It's nice to have a moment like this when we're not at each other's throats.”

“That is true. Very true.” Y/n smiled to herself, realising how tranquil the conversation was between them, the complete opposite to their many ones in the past.

“That dress looks nice on you.” Marshall mumbled.

“Sorry?” Y/n had to double check that she heard him correctly.

“The dress looks nice on you.”

“Oh.. thanks.” Y/n replied, still trying to process the moment.

“What, do you not believe me?”

“No, I do. It's just, I never would've expected that from you.”

Marshall let out a small hum in response.

“I know I said I hated it, but I think the blonde hair suits you.” Y/n said.

“Really?”

“Yeah.” She kissed her teeth and nodded slowly. “It's uh… cute.”

They both turned their heads to look at each other, making eye contact. This time, they didn't turn away in a second or disrupt the moment. Instead, they let it grow. The tension between them reached a high point, to which it grew thicker and thicker. Like a rope, attached to the both of them, bringing them closer and closer to each other.

As the distance between them shrunk, Y/n glanced at Marshall’s lips. She took notice of how soft and pink they were. And in that moment, the space between them closed, letting their lips touch. She brought her hand to the back of Marshall's neck, bringing him closer to seal the kiss.

Marshall placed his hands on Y/n's hips and moved her closer to him, placing her in his lap. As the kiss continued, with each second, they both realised that this wasn't a useless kiss that was empty of emotion. But rather, fill to the brim with sparks and feelings. They pulled away, intensely looking at each other, unable to take their gaze away. 

“Do- do you wanna carry on?” Y/n asked shyly, her voice quiet.

“Yeah. I'd like that. It'll be a while till they come back.” Marshall replied, his voice sounding eager.

Immediately after that response, they pulled in for another kiss. This time, there was desire and passion behind it. Marshall pulled the hem of Y/n's dress, asking permission to take it off. She took it off in an instant, leaving her in her lingerie.

Marshall pulled away to take a look at Y/n, admiring her. His eyes travelled along her body, taking in her curves and perfect figure. 

“Gosh, you're beautiful.” He murmured.

She couldn't help but smile as a deep splash of pink reached her face from the flattery of Marshall's compliment. The next few minutes were a blur, clothes came off in quick seconds and were tossed onto the floor.

Marshall kissed along Y/n's neck, murmuring a string of sentences under his breath as he laid her down on the bed. He cupped her breasts and massaged them softly in circles, watching with intent as Y/n squirmed under him.

“I need you Marshall.” She said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Marshall inserted himself into her, letting out a guttural groan from the pleasure. He started moving, first slow and steady rolls with soft pressure that soon turned into fast and hard thrusts, each letting a ripple of arousal through Y/n.

His dick moved against her velvety walls in smooth and quick motions. Y/n's airy moans and Marshall's throaty groans mixed with the sounds of their skin slapping against each other and the bed creaking. The temperature in the room increased, as their faces became more flushed and sweaty.

With one last thrust, Marshall came inside, letting his hot, thick spurts of white string squirt into Y/n and coat her walls. She let out a loud and pleasant moan as her eyes rolled back to the back of her skull, being overdriven from the delightful feeling. Marshall collapsed on top of her, his weight mode comforting than crushing.

“Wow… I really… needed that.” Y/n whispered, taking breaths in between her words.

“Gosh…yeah.” Marshall replied softly into her ear.

They stayed close to each other for a minute two, basking in the sweet moment between them as they tried to catch their breaths. That, however, was quickly stopped when the muffled voices of the rest of the group were heard outside, coming back with the pizza.

“Shit, they're back.” Marshall said as he got off from Y/n.

She wished he could stay on her for longer but she knew she couldn't risk letting her friends see her like this. The pair scrambled to put their clothes back on and fix themselves up before the group returned. They heard the door to the trailer clock open, Y/n decided to quickly jump over to the bed opposite.

The door to the bedroom swung open, revealing the group holding their pizza boxes. 

“Who's hungry? We've got pizza!” Proof exclaimed.

“Everything okay?” Ashley asked.

“Yeah, yeah. We're fine. I just took a nap.” Y/n responded.

“Huh, well we're gonna have pizza outside. Come join us when you're ready.” Carla said.

And with that, the group left the room, closing the door behind them as they went outside, ready to start their pizza feast.

“Well, we should probably go eat then.” Y/n said.

“Y/n. I like you.” Marshall said, his voice barely audible and gentle.

In that moment, Y/n felt a mix of emotions bubbling inside of her. Confusion, shock and surprisingly a sense of happiness and relief too.

“You like me?” Y/n asked, her voice matching the gentle tone in Marshall's voice.

“I have for a while. I didn't know how to approach you with it since you hated me.”

Y/n felt a twist of guilt in her veins as she listened to Marshall. She sat on his bed and looked at him with intent, showing him that she was ready to listen and talk.

“I can't deny that what we just did definitely brought out some chemistry between us.” Y/n said. “I'd be an idiot to ignore it.”

“Are you saying that we should try… us? Like, us being a thing?” 

“We should. If that's something we're comfortable and ready for.”

“I am. Are you?”

“I am too.”

“Well then that's settled.”

“And if it doesn't work out, let's just try being friends then.”

“Yeah. That sounds good.”

Y/n placed a tender kiss on Marshall’s forehead before sharing a soft and warm smile with him. “Come on, let's go eat.”

A/N: Finally got this request finished! Hopefully you enjoyed it :))