#it wasn't when it started and it's gotten worse with time

[the-universal-sun]

OOH I got another goodie! Can we get a regressed fidds? He regresses because he had a panic attack due to thinking he will lose stan (mullet stan) cause he lost his bookworm, got divorced by his wife and lost tate, he heart couldn't handle loosing stan! So he clings to stan and when stan tries to move away fidds freaks and begs his lee not to leave ):

Thank you so much for you request, I loved writing it! I do need to write more little! fidds, he's such an adorable little guy :) I hope I did your request justice here! And I hope it wasn't too heavy at times-I'm always worried about that. Merry Christmas and please enjoy reading!

As always, I am welcome to helpful advice and critiques! Happy Holidays to everyone!

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Fiddleford sobbed, clutching Missy, his stuffed Racoon, tightly to his chest. Stan said he was just going to the store to pick up juice and snacks, and that was over an hour ago! He must've gotten tired of Fiddleford and his anxiety and his crying and now he's gone and he's never coming back! Fiddleford is going to be all alone again, just like before. He feels like he's standing on a precipice, teetering near the edge in pure despair. He should've known, Emma May left him and took Tater Tot, who doesn't even want to see him, his Bookworm left him and may be gone forever , and now his Bubba left him! He's going to be alone forever and ever and ever! Fiddleford tries to take deep breaths, his chest aching and hurting making it almost impossible-he's starting to feel lightheaded.

     "Fidds! I'm home!" It's Bubba! He came back, he didn't leave Fidds! "Apparently this place has a "Pioneer Day" and they wouldn't let me drive through town, so it took longer than-OOF!" Fidds doesn't comprehend Stan's words, clumsily getting up and barreling into Stan, he would've knocked him over if Stan hadn't widened his stance to counterbalance. "Whoa, Sweetums! Where's the fire-are you crying? Fiddleford-what happened? Was it a bad memory or-or are you hurt? I-" Stan pauses, his brow furrowing in concern when he sees the stuffed Racoon clutched tightly in Fidds' hands, his blubbering combined with that is what puts it together for Stan. He's not talking to Dr. Fiddleford H McGucket, he's talking to his Little Fella, to Fidds. "Hey," Stan softens his voice, "what's the matter, hmm? Come on, tell your Bubba." Stan's softer voice coupled with reassuring talk is usually enough to get through to him, but it seems as if the usual reassurances are slipping away into the distance, Fiddleford too overwhelmed to comprehend. Stan tries to move Fidds back so he can get a look at him-making sure he didn't actually get hurt while he was gone. What he didn't expect was to be met with such a violent and out-of-character reaction from his Sweetie.

     "No! No! No!" Fidds clings tighter as Stan goes to move him back. The yelling in his ear causes him to instinctively flinch and move back even more to escape the loud noise. This only causes Fidds' yelling and crying to get worse. He collapses on the floor and clings to Stan's legs, hugging him tight with a piercing, "NOOOOO!" followed by hysterical sobbing. At this point, Stan's panicking, too, his chest tight and throat constricting. He doesn't know what he did wrong, he doesn't even know what happened when he was gone, what made Fidds drop and get him in such a state.

     "Hey, Fella! Come on now, let's try to calm down, yeah?" Stan bends down, trying to get level with Fidds and get him to calm his crying and breathe. When soft cooing doesn't work, Stan doesn't know what else to do aside from grasp his shoulders and pull the taller man into him, gathering him in his arms-Fiddleford may be taller than Stan, but he's all gangly limbs-standing up and hobbling-he's still a full grown man-to the living room, collapsing on the armchair with Fidds, still sobbing, in his lap. Stan is torn up inside, listening to the other one cry feels like a rusted blade is tearing its way through his insides, he clings to Fiddleford just as hard as he's being clung to, almost hoping his presence and suffocating hug is enough to calm his Little Guy down, just enough so he can tell him what's eating at him, maybe then Stan can punch away anything that's hurt or scared Fidds.

     “Bubba…” Fidds whispered, his voice trembling. He clung to Stan’s shirt, his fingers gripping the fabric for dear life. The world around him faded, everything sharpening into a singular focus—Stan. Bubba. “You’re not-not gonna-not gonna leave me, right?” Panic seeped into his words, heavy and suffocating. "Please! Please don't leave me! Don' wanna be- a-alone anymore!" He begged, words jumped by his hiccups, clutching and burying himself in Stan's chest again-too scared to look into his eyes and see disgust or annoyance. He doesn't want his Bubba to be mad or annoyed at him, it's just-he chokes back a sob into a moan-panic stifling his breathing. He loves Stan so much, so much so that it hurts sometimes. And he knows rationally that Stan would say something if he wasn't happy, but he isn't rational, his thoughts just eat away and eat away at him sometimes. And this thought won't go away, and he wants it to go away! He doesn't want to think about not having Bubba no more, not being tucked in or-or read to anymore. The thought causes him to burst into another round of sobs.

     Stan's heart ached even more, his chest even tighter, at the sight before him. Was this what got Fidds in such a tizzy? The thought that he might abandon him? Stan would never do that, hell, he's lucky Fiddleford wants to stick around with him. He couldn't even bring himself to think of any situation that would make him turn away his Lil' Guy, the thought of that scenario is enough to make Stan's eyes sting and his breath hitch. He reached out, bringing his arms around the scrawny man on his lap and absolutely crushing him against him, nuzzling his head against the top of Fidds' head and pressing deep kisses on his hair. "Never." Stan's voice is rough with an emotion neither of them can name at that moment. "I'm not goin' anywhere, not without my Little Man, alright?" Fidds unburied his head from his Bubba's chest, laying it on his shoulder so he could nuzzle it in return-and so he can feel the breathing against his ear and match it. His chest hurts and his head feels dizzy from how hard he was crying and from how hard it was to breathe. "You can trust me when I say this," Stan clutches Fidds tighter, "unless there comes a day when you want to stop, I will never let you go. I promise you this, nothin' crossed, Fiddleford." Stan manages to get Fidds to lean back enough to look him in the eyes. To make his point.

     Fidds looks at Bubba, he's got his serious-serious face on. The face reserved for when something in his lab gets blown up when he's there. Fidds knows this means business, that he's serious, no fingers, toes, tongues, or eyes crossed. And that tickles Fidds more than anything, knowing his Bubba isn't crossing anything while making a promise to him, this means he has to keep the promise-those were the rules and his Bubba has never broken a promise rule. This is what calms his breathing down enough for him to get in those deep breaths his brain and body need, enough to collapse against Stan's warm chest while comforting and grounding hands stroke his hair. The grip of panic loosened ever so slightly, though he still clings to Stan's so tightly-scared of letting go.

Fidds knows these icky thoughts will come up again, but in this moment where he's being hugged and rocked so tightly by his Bubba? While his head is being kissed and such nice words are being whispered in his ears? Those thoughts seem like such a silly thing to worry about. He's not alone, not here at this moment. Not with Bubba.

[not-poignant]

PIA. WHAT. please tell us about being a professional tea taster!!!!

Ahahaha, there's honestly not much to tell!

I fell into it completely by accident. I didn't actually even used to like tea, but that was because my only exposure was like, the milky sugary shit my english side of the family used to give me, and turns out, I don't like milk or sugar in my tea! I would've liked it just fine if they'd given it to me without those things.

(No shade to people who like milky sugary tea, I believe that stuff is the bomb if you love it, especially with biscuits).

However, a friend's older brother was just starting to be the first place in Western Australia to import in very high quality green, white, oolong and pu-erh teas into the state, and would do so by touring through China first, etc. This was before green tea drinking was really a 'thing' here (late 90s, early 00s), so they were here before any of the 'boutique' tea shops etc.

I started getting involved in tea ceremonies through said friend, started tasting the teas, and eventually we all realised I had a pretty good palate for it, and so I engaged in further training to help them write out their labels / brands etc. and eventually became a tea taster. I specialise in green and oolong, and started to get into white, but I think I miss too much of the nuance to do much more except enjoy it, lol.

Unfortunately their company never went far, they were outcompeted due to being at the crest of the 'green tea drinking is a thing' and while I kept it up for a while, I decided I didn't want to go the tea sommelier route (pairing tea with food), and just kept it up as a general skill, doing tea reviews for a couple of websites.

When I developed anemia, I had to stop drinking tea for a long time, because tea is actually one of the worst things you can drink if you have iron deficiency or any kind of anemia (yes, really, ask your hematologist if you don't believe me).

I can probably have about one/two cups a day now, and I'm one of those elitist bitches who has the temperature kettle (certain teas are best brewed at specific lower temperatures), and only drinks loose leaf tea with no milk, honey, lemon or sugar in sight and sets all my brewings to strict temperatures. But that's just because that's the way I like it. I can't stand matcha, unless it's in a matcha tiramisu. And my personal taste means nothing, because it's about other people's personal tastes. The tea you like says nothing in particular about you, except that you like it. :)

I once had a moment when we had some tradespeople come over and I offered them coffee/tea, and when they said tea, I realised they wanted like... a teabag brewed tea with milk and sugar and on the day we had no milk (I'm lactose intolerant) and only had green teas and I felt so embarrassed, lmao, so now I always carry some teabag tea for guests.

This is now my favourite brand:

And this is what they all look like.

I go through them a lot more slowly than I used to! And I don't drink much black tea anymore sadly due to reflux, but I'll still make time for it.

I can talk a little too much about different provinces, aging techniques, and more, but not enough to do it as a job anymore. But I loved it when I did it and I still love sharing green tea with the friends who love it these days.

Lmao me like 'there's not much to tell' but still manages to turn it into like 100 paragraphds fasdlkjfsa

[my-thirteenth-reason]

bro wtf is with this guy i swear when will he get the hint that i no longer am and do not want to be friends with his transphobic-in-the-weirdest-way ahh

[because-its-eurovision]

.

[whorelaud]

꒦꒷ 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 bad habit ¡

pairing nicholas chavez x fem¡reader

summary Nicholas grows a habit of biting you, using every given chance to do it. It starts off platonically, the action playful and teasing, until things eventually took a not so platonic turn, leading to a heated moment between the two of you.

contains nsfw content ! making out, biting, hickeys, and uhh interruptions.

a/n heavily inspired by bad habit!!! likes and reblogs are v much appreciated 🫶

word count 2.2k

It started off on set, when you accidentally made a mistake while filming. You chuckled, apologizing to the director, unaware of the man hovering behind you.

Nicholas’ teeth grazed over your shoulder, the sensation like feathers on your skin. The gesture was so subtle, yet so there, sending shivers down your spine. His breath fanned over your exposed flesh, almost as if he was searching for a reaction out of you.

You brushed it off, thinking Nicholas was being playful; did it for the sake of laughs and giggles, but oh boy, were you wrong. After the incident, it only got worse, with him biting you every chance he gets.

Whether it was your arm, legs, neck, shoulders, stomach, everything he laid his touch on, it was getting marked.

He wasn't afraid to do it, growing amused to the flustered reaction he always got in return. You were guilty for taking an odd liking into it, turning into a mess under his touch whenever he’d bite you.

You didn't dare put an end to it, enjoying it as much as he did. It sparked butterflies in your stomach, mind going blank with every slight touch from him.

Sometimes he would linger, merely to see if it gets a reaction out of you, while other times, it was a passing through, type of thing. Everyone on set knew that by now, smiling and nodding whenever Nicholas did it.

It didn't hurt, in fact, it felt good. The reactions you gave were a mere cover up of your attraction towards it. You felt weak for the ones where he’d kiss the spot afterwards, rubbing a comforting thumb to your skin.

You never knew when to expect it. At times, it would be while you guys were filming, he’d do it because he was embarrassed for messing up his line. While sometimes, it would be in private, when it’s only the two of you.

However, it was strictly platonic. Nicholas made himself clear; sure, he’d flirt with you every now and then, but that was only to mess with you, knowing how easily flustered you were.

That swiftly took a turn, though.

You were currently in Nicholas’ van, practicing your lines for the next scene. The boy made himself comfortable on the couch, admiring as you walked back and forth.

Nick’s giggles erupted through your ears, causing you to perk up. You glimpsed over in his direction, puzzlement washing over your face.

“What?” You questioned, inching closer to the brunet.

“Nothing.” He shook his head, glancing up at you now that you were towering over him.

“Oh.” Your lips formed into a pout, grumbling before returning your attention back to the script. “Okay.”

You moved away, yelping when you got yanked back to your position, impossibly closer now. Your gaze shifted to Nicholas’ arms, observing as he sneaked them around your waist, embracing you in a hug.

“What’s gotten into you?” You snickered, feeling his breath fan over the sliver of skin around your stomach.

“You’re so warm.” He whispered, one of his hands trailing down to your hip.

You tensed, sensing a change in his tone. It was extremely rare for Nicholas to get this clingy, unless he was tired. From what you’ve seen thus far, that was totally not the case.

Nicholas nuzzled into your stomach, a satisfied hum escaping his throat. You snorted, reading over your lines while you let him do his thing.

His fingers toyed with the hem of your top, causing you to freeze in your spot. That was… new. You don't recall him ever doing that, not even when you’re both messing around.

“Is everything okay?” You asked, tucking your hair behind your ear.

He stuck to humming, letting his fingers trail further underneath your shirt. You almost gasped at the sensation, lips parting to exhale instead. The script in your hand was long forgotten now, as you tossed it on the couch next to Nicholas.

“Nick.” You whispered, hesitating before your hands found their way around his shoulder.

“You know…” he trailed off, voice barely above a whisper. He tilted his head back, merely to catch sight of you. “You’re really pretty.”

“Thank you.” You replied, teasing visible in your voice. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

“Yeah?” He smirked, his nails digging into your side.

You audibly gasped at the action, the idea of your hips bruising due to Nicholas’ touch driving you over the edge. One of your hands trailed to the back of his neck, the tip of your fingers toying with his hair.

He inched his face closer to your stomach, all that while maintaining eye contact with you. He mouthed at your skin, touch lingering as he waited for a reaction out of you.

Your lips parted with pleasure, jolting when you felt his teeth grazing over your stomach, biting you before you knew it.

There it was, the tingling sensation it striked through your body. You shuddered under his touch, feeling your knees grow weak. A moan escaped your throat when he repeated the action, accidentally tugging his hair in the process.

Nick groaned in response, eyes forcing shut at the sensation. Pleasure fell upon his face, squeezing anything he could lay his hands on.

“So beautiful,” he whispered, littering kisses to your stomach. “Has anyone ever told you how breathtaking you are?”

You moaned at the statement, arching your back into the touch. Nick’s hand trailed down to your ass, giving it a squeeze through the fabric of your shorts.

You forced your eyes shut at the action, unable to control the moan escaping your throat. You were a flustered mess under his touch, wincing whenever he nibbled too hard on your skin.

The thought of getting marked by Nicholas drove you mental, it has your mind hazing up, leaving you wanting more.

“I–” you stammed, hushed words filling the air. “What about filmin’?”

“We have time.” He muttered, pulling you down by your sides.

Your body collided with Nick’s as you fell into his lap. He adjusted your position, making sure you were comfortable in the process. Nicholas groaned in your ear, throwing his head back when you accidently brushed over his crotch.

Your face heated, feeling his hardon through the thin fabric of clothes. You awkwardly hovered over his lap, unaware of your next move.

Fuck, Nicholas was hard, and it was because of you. Your mind went fuzzy all over, head filling with a million questions, yet none at the same time.

Nicholas pushed you down, not hesitating to collide your lips in a kiss. He captured your bottom lip between his teeth, the action seeping tension through the air.

He leisurely pulled back, pulling at your lip with his teeth, nibbling on it before he moved away. Your mouth remained parted, letting your forehead rest against his.

“You know how long I’ve been wanting to do that?” He whispered, stealing a kiss from the corner of your lips. “Fuck, you're so…”

You couldn't control your hips as you grinded down, a hiss erupting through your ears in the process. You felt Nicholas twitch through his pants, the gesture a great impact on him.

He looked out of it. His eyes hazed up, barely able to hold contact with yours as he fluttered them shut.

“You’re so fucking pretty, doll.” He praised, voice muffled as he peppered kisses along your jaw. “I'm obsessed with you, everythin’ about you drives me mental.”

“Nick.” You said through a breath, voice slightly shaky.

An audible gasp escaped your throat as he slipped a hand underneath your shirt, fingers instantly finding your chest. He gave your boob a squeeze, while he traced open mouthed kisses to the other one through the fabric of your shirt.

You leaned your head back, grinding down as a whine muffled its way out of your mouth. Nick was incredible with his mouth, he knew exactly how to please a woman, and how to make her feral in all the right places.

You felt heat release from your body, the room growing hot with every move you committed to. This was all you’ve ever wanted. You wanted to get a taste of Nicholas so bad, so fucking bad it was starting to get a bit concerning.

And with the whole biting thing? Yeah, that was your last straw.

You yelped when his teeth grazed over your nipple, the action causing goosebumps to breakout across your chest. You attempted to pull away from the touch, quickly interrupted by the hand on your back as it brought you closer, if that was even possible.

The distance between you guys was extinct now, the only thing blocking you being the thin layers of clothes.

“I need you…” Nick groaned, nipping at your skin.

He buried his face in your neck, his heavy breaths the only thing seeping through the silent void. His tone was so suggestive, needy, keen and in need of you. How’s one able to resist when someone as desperate as Nicholas exists?

“I’m all yours.” You licked your lips, cupping Nicholas’ face.

You withdrew his face from your neck, breath hitching when you caught sight of how much of a mess he was. In fact, he might’ve been more affected than you were.

You connected your lips in another kiss, tilting your head to get a better angle of his mouth. A satisfied hum erupted through your ears, causing you to smile through the kiss.

Nicholas toyed with the strap of your top, pushing it down your arm, followed with the other one eventually after. The action peaked interest through your chest, causing you to pull back with amusement.

“Here?”

“Mhm.” He hummed, “I’ll be quick.”

He nipped and sucked at your neck, finger tugging down your top, exposing your chest to the air. You shivered, hissing when Nicholas grazed his teeth over the flesh, trailing his mouth all the way down to your breasts.

His mouth salivated at the sight, pausing to admire how perfect your boobs were. His gaze shifted back to you, as you stared at him with a shy smile across your lips.

“I didn't think you could get any perfect.” He pecked your mouth, a smirk forming on his lips.

“You’ve seen nothing.” You teased, wrapping your arms around his neck.

You applied pressure around the back of his head, pushing him down on your chest. Nicholas accepted with content, gliding his tongue over your now hard nipple.

You nipped at his hair, arching into the touch. It felt amazing, hot spit coating your cold skin. It was absolutely heavenly, no words could describe it.

He kneaded your other boob with his hand, the sensation spiraling you over the edge.

He traced open mouth kisses to your collarbones, sucking on the bony flesh around your shoulder.

“Nick…” you muttered through a gasp, “That will leave a mark.”

“Good.” He exhaled through his mouth, tone cocky. “Let everyone know you’re mine.”

“My god.” You mumbled, voice barely audible.

You pushed him back on the couch, already missing the warmth of his tongue on your body. He chased after your touch, earning a chuckle out of you as your hand covered his mouth.

“Stay.” You ordered, voice seductive.

You teasingly toyed with the hem of your shirt, leisurely tucking it up to reveal the whole of your stomach. The fabric pooled just beneath your chest, creating a thick material.

However, that was long forgotten as you tugged it over your head, getting it off your body. And Nicholas couldn't help but groan as he moved forward, laying his touch wherever his hands landed.

Your fingers found their way around his shirt, delicately unbuttoning it until it revealed his whole chest. Your mouth watered at the sight, removing the shirt with a bit of help from the boy.

Your digits traced over the lines of his abs, gulping when you noticed how muscular he was beneath all the clothes he wore. His eyes followed your hand as it came to a halt around his pants, fingers teasingly fidgeting with the button.

“Get it off of me already.” He hissed, thrusting up into you.

The collision made you gasp, his hardon brushing against your ass. Your fingers dug into his skin, grinding down on him to chase after your pleasure.

“Fucking hell.” He cursed under his breath, mouth gaping with desire.

You clumsily unbuttoned his pants, freezing in your spot when you heard a knock on the door. Your eyes widened in shock, attention shifting back to Nicholas, who was just as shocked as you were.

The crew member called out your name, causing you to perk up. “You’re up in five minutes, make sure you’re ready.”

Right, you guys were on set.

You were swift to get up, throwing your shirt over your head. You stole a glimpse at Nicholas, who hopelessly stared at you, disappointment visible on his face.

You smiled, endeared by how sulky he was, as he looked adorable while doing it. You moved over, ruffling your hair into place before you connected your lips with his.

Although he was upset, he happily returned the gesture, chasing after your lips when you moved away.

“Sorry about that.” Your gaze shifted down to his lap, noticing the hardon in his pants. “I’ll help you out later.”

“Yeah?” He smirked, no longer sulky. “I’ll look forward to that.”

“Mhm, you definitely should.”

[frmisnow]

ONCE AGAIN, MILAN ! - (nsfw)

summary. what happens when you and jungkook find yourselves once again in milan, this time with no business attached — well a hol' lotta sex for sure!

notes. guysss i changed my mind! there will be a fifth chapter because there is something that i want them to do- a refrence to chp. 2 + they need to get lil cheonsa duh?? ✶𝄞 if y'all are currently reading this, i'm probs already on vacation! so it'll take a minute, regardless, i hope everybody enjoys!!

warnings/includes. non idol! ceo! jungkook x f! employee! reader, smut described/implied multiple times!! (morning sex, very slight voyeurism / heavy flirting in a boutique, NASTY dirty talk) , drabble-ish (idk i just want them to be happy), cheonsa mention (we cheered)

the morning had begun in the best way possible. the bright italian sun on your face, the hotel sheets lightly crumpled, well- and jungkook.

jungkook who had woken you up with gentle kisses starting from your face, moving to your shoulder, all the way to your tits. kissed your sore little thighs too, because "they deserved it" after all the things they've gone through - sure.

he made love to you. moaned how beautiful you were along with some other sweet dirty nothings.

it was the kind of sex that made you feel cherished, worshipped even, as if all of his love was burried solely in his tip and he poured all of it into you, when you both came.

after spending what felt like hours wrapped up in each other, you had finally left the bed, your body still tingling from the morning’s activities. the first spot was a cat café, jungkook had read about it somewhere, thinking of you.

you both had spent a few hours in there, sipping on your respective lattes, playing with the little cats while their tiny paws brush against your legs. jungkook had his polaroid camera out at all times, clicking away.

showed the photos to you, told you how cute you looked, how the kitten in your lap looked just like you. how you both should get little cheonsa just like that.

closely after, you both took your time strolling through the streets, hands intertwined, ending with him pushing you into a high-end boutique. you smiled at his eagerness, it wasn't the first time he spend that black card of his on you.

jungkook handed you a dress, that reminded more of a whisper of fabric rather then a real garment, leaving little to the imagination. but you instantly nodded, that's what you liked about being with him; you didn't feel shy, there was no reason to. not with every single thing jungkook has said about your body this far.

the fitting rooms were large, they felt like rooms by themselves. jungkook sat outside patentily, tapping his legs. when you walked out you could clearly see him trying his absolute best not to reach out his hands, his pupils widening ever so slightly, taking a deep breath to compose himself, "turn around, angel, for me."

you did as he said when done, walking over to take a seat on his thigh while his fingers immediately moved to stroke your thighs, mumbling how pretty you were.

the way you were sitting, so close to him, he could make out your pretty panties peeking under the dress. black lace, with little bows he had gifted to you when you visited that lingerie place a few days ago, thinking of you in that store didn't make his growing buldge any better.

and you most certaintly made it even worse by whispering into his ear, how much you needed him and how wet you've been ever since this morning.

he bit his lip, your body was so painfully close and your skirt only rode up, gently pinching your thigh almost as a light warning, "remember where we are"

following you made a little pout, but mumbled a reluctant 'fine' anyway, making your way back into the fitting room.

next stop was a restaurant, you hadn't even noticed that it had gotten late by this time but jungkook took care of it, as always. how he managed to get a reservation at this place, you didn't quite know but you certaintly weren't complaining. he had pulled your leg over his some time ago, running his hands over the skin, the action innoccent in a way caring, like he was so sorry that you had to walk this whole day even though he had spoiled you shamelessly.

his fingers drew patterns and tiny circles over the skin, his face glowing from what was left of the sun through the large windows.

"i'm so happy" you smile, your fingers moving through his hair lightly.

jungkook's lips curl into a soft smile, just like yours, leaning into your touch, "i'm happy too, angel" his voice low and affectionate, "everday"

the evening went exeptionelly well, he talked you stupid about some of the other things he wanted to do, didn't mention business even once.

you both walked back to the hotel, you liked the city at night and had asked him to walk instead of taking a taxi. he didn't let go of your hand, swinging.

he walked back to the hotel with you, holding your hand tightly, it had been your wish to stroll back, you liked the city at night. it all reminded you of that night but it was different this time, it felt good not having wine in your system.

for once you felt like you actually could love jungkook, without alcohol, without your job, any other factor in your way. you could fuck him freely without having to blame the alcohol for it, after.

love is lust. that's why he pounds you into the large matress, tells you how bad you've been, how greedy you were.

he asked questions, dirty ones, you were way to brain fucked to understand dare to say even answer.

asks how much you'd like it, him filling you up everywhere, in the bathrooms, around his apartment, in the elevator, during your shifts at work, how he'd make you walk around feeling full, feeling dripping and sticky under your skirt.

describes how he'd call you into his office just so he could take you nicely on his desk. have you walk out later, nod to all your colleagues, like a good girl.

you barerly hear him and the words make you moan out are vile things that people only say when they are about to come. how you wanted to marry him, have him around you all times, how much you wanted him every minute.

you thought about how small you'd want the wedding to be, you, him and little kitten cheonsa. and you moan again, like a porn star.

and he responds, gripping your hips tighter, "i'd marry you tomorrow if you asked me to, hell i'd make a baby with you right this second if you wanted."

he let out a grunted string of 'please's though you weren't even sure what he was begging you for. your brain felt so incredibly mushy.

few seconds later, he filled you up, making a mess of you. he instantly reached out to touch your chin gently to look at you, "you okay, princess?"

you managed to nod but he shock his head, "words, i need to hear you, angel" it was a soft order, one you couldn't look away from.

so you reassure him that you are happy and so content, he seems to like your words, smiling. lifting you up and maneuvering you on top of him, still inside of you. his fingers trace over your bare back soothingly as he lights a cigarette with his other hand, just like that night.

and you smiled to yourself because you knew. you knew that this time when you woke up, you wouldn't have to leave, you would be able to look at his sleeping smile as long as you wanted. it was a comforting thought.

— cheonsa means angel.

🍓 tag list — @chansloverr , @marimarvelfan , @bxcndd , @1-in-abillion , @ahgasegotarmy116 , @copycat-namjesus , @malkaimoon , @geminiml95 , @taiwan0618 , @jungkookfics , @rrosiitas , @stuti2904 , @spiderlilyserendipity , @m00njinnie , @ririkookiemonster , @emptynessclub , @yoongznme , @snow-strawberry , @ttanniett

[themultifanshipper]

Who knew practicing your makeup skills on Lando and Oscar would lead to this.

Vaguely based on the time I did my ex's makeup and we got unbearably horny because of it

Warnings: filth, absolute filth, smut, threesome, spit, PinV sex, PinA sex, double penetration, the inherent eroticism of doing someone's makeup, the inherent eroticism of landoscar in the same room, Landoscar being kinky little fuckers. I'd say pwp but tbh the plot is like 3 sentences.

You'd spent two years being a makeup artist on the formula 1 media team. Which was great, it payed well, you'd made some great friends, you traveled all over the place. It was a lot of people's dream job, really.

But you had to admit you were getting bored of covering zits and five o’clock shadows all the time (and hickeys but shhhhhh) and you were hoping for a bit of a change of routine.

That change came in the form of an offer to become the official f1 Academy makeup artist.

Sure it wasn't exactly Cirque du Soleil but at least you'd get to do a bit more than just pandering to male egos.

So before the end of the season, you thought you'd get a bit of practice in by doing some of your friends makeup.

The problem was the only friends you had access to while traveling were formula one drivers, or in other words, men.

So you roped your two best friends in the paddock Lando and Oscar into letting you do their makeup one afternoon, in the comfort of their motorhome bathroom, where the lighting was best, and the presence of a sink was convenient.

You grabbed a chair from the other room, which happened to be quite large, so it took up most of the space in the bathroom.

You did Oscar's eyes first, that way you could alternate between the two so they wouldn't have to stay still for too long.

You instructed Oscar to close his eyes, then you stepped closer, shaking the tube to get the liquid flowing.

Having Oscar under you, so pliant and at your mercy with his eyes closed sent a shiver up your spine and you hesitated for a second, you mind conjuring up other scenarios where you two could be in this position. Then you quickly came to your senses and eagerly applied the black liquid in a sharp wing.

The angle was a bit weird but you got through it, and when he opened his eyes to look at you, your breath caught in your throat. He was beautiful. Not in a particularly feminine way but it really fucking suited him, it made his deep brown eyes stand out. You were almost jealous.

Then it was Lando's turn. They swapped places, Lando settling on the chair while Oscar sat on the floor.

You uncapped the lid and went to start Lando's liner, but the angle was even worse due to their slight height difference.

You huffed. “Hang on I need to get closer, this is killing my wrist.” You thought for a second. “Can I sit on your lap? I promise it'll be quick”

Lando’s eyes widened a fraction but he nodded and you straddled his thighs, your legs on either side of his.

Plot twist, it was not quick. He couldn't keep still long enough and you kept having to stop to let him scratch his nose, beard, neck, etc…

You got a bit frustrated at his fidgeting so you grabbed his jaw, perhaps a bit harder than intended, and held him in place.

“Stop moving!” you ordered, and he became weirdly stock still suddenly.

In your concentration you didn't notice how close your face had gotten to his, and how his pupils dilated more and more, the closer you got.

You shifted on his lap as you tried to get the right angle to do the last part, but you must have hurt him because he gasped and scrunched his eyebrows together as his hands flew to your hips to stop you from moving.

“Shit, you ok? Did I hurt you?”

“Nope, no it's fine just…” he exhaled shakily “just don't move around too much” he gulped as he avoided eye contact. His breathing had picked up a bit and you didn't want to make him any more uncomfortable so you hurried the rest. But you had to admit, sitting on Lando's lap with his hands squeezing your hips was making you hot, and slightly dizzy.

Oscar was looking curiously at the interaction from the floor, eyes darting from your faces only a few inches apart, to where Lando’s leg was starting to twitch, to his hands on the meat of your hips, to the way your fingers were digging into his jaw to keep him still.

You managed to finish quickly, and as you got off him you noticed the mirror was starting to steam up a little bit. What you didn't see was the way Lando adjusted his pants before getting up to let Oscar have his turn.

“Holy shit, mate. It looks really good on you” Oscar was almost in awe as he got up, now slightly higher than eye level with Lando.

The two of them sort of stood there looking at each other’s eyes with an intensity you'd never seen in them before, then seemingly remembered where they were before clearing their throats and shuffling around awkwardly to switch places.

"You wanna..."

"Yeah, thanks"

You took the lipstick out of your bag, applying a bit to a brush before grabbing Oscar's jaw the same way you had Lando’s, and tilting his face upwards. His hand naturally came to rest on your waist as you sat down on him, you didn't mind. He swallowed and the movement of his adam's apple caught your eye.

“You okay?” you whispered, looking into his eyes from above.

“Yeah” he replied, the deafening silence that followed almost overwhelmed you so you quickly started swiping the brush over his bottom lip.

You took the liberty of using your thumb to wipe some excess off, and it grazed Oscar's tongue.

He gasped and you swore, about to apologise, but when you looked at his eyes you were shocked to find them closed, as Oscar opened his mouth just a fraction more, inviting.

When you didn't say anything or move for several seconds, he looked up at you through lidded eyes and you understood. He was turned on.

You didn't dare move. You glanced at his lips then back up to his eyes and he did the same.

“Oscar…” You breathed out, barely even loud enough to be considered a whisper.

In guise of a response, he pressed your hips down and rolled his upwards, and the groan he let out was almost akin to whimper. He was so hard you could feel him through all the layers.

You chanced a glance down to where Lando was sitting and the look that met yours was overwhelming. He looked like a siren, painted eyes also lidded as he looked at you and Oscar, mouth hanging half open as his hand palmed his obvious erection through his joggers.

“You two are so fucking hot” he whispered, and you looked back at the man you were currently grinding on. Oscar looked so fucked out you might have blacked out for a second, dropping the makeup brush on the counter and grabbing Oscar by the hair to pull his head back ever further, exposing his neck. You trailed kisses along his jaw before settling below his ear to bite at it lightly.

“You want to fuck me, Osc? Give this little freak a show, huh?” You ground your hips down harder and he groaned out a curse at the ceiling before sliding a hand around your neck to close the gap between you.

His lips were slippery thanks to the half-applied lipstick, but he made up for it by sucking your bottom lip into his mouth and your hips stuttered against his as you felt Lando's hands start to work at your clothes…

You weren't sure when the plan changed, but you found yourself riding Lando instead of Oscar on the chair, while Oscar guided your hips at a leisurely pace as he sloppily made out with Lando over your shoulder.

You haven't truly lived until you've witnessed that.

Suddenly Oscar had a thought and slowed your hips down to a slow grind. You were sweaty and your legs were aching so you were thankful for the break.

“Can you take us both?” Oscar asked.

You and Lando froze. You frowned at each other.

“What?”

“Do you think” he started, trailing sloppy kisses down your back, hands going lower and lower. “you can take us both?”

“As in…?” you trailed off as he got to the dip in your lower back.

“As in both of us…” his hands came down to spread your ass as he kissed the end of your tail bone. “… at the same time.” His thumb stroked over your rim and you shuddered in Lando's embrace.

“I've never done that before” but you could feel yourself getting wetter at the prospect.

“Do you want to try it?” Oscar asked, still level with where you and Lando were joined.

You didn't take much convincing, and as soon as he had your consent, Oscar surged forward and licked a stripe from where you were split open by Lando, up to where his last kiss had landed.

You moaned as he spread you open and and spat straight onto your puckered hole, watching his spit slide down your skin to Lando's cock inside you. Lando swore as you tightened around him and pulled out so that he wouldn't come too soon. You took the opportunity to arch your back, presenting yourself to Oscar as Lando stroked your hair and kissed you sweetly.

Oscar wasted no time, he dived in with expert precision, stretching you out with his tongue, then a finger, then two, dipping them in your cunt first to get them nice and wet.

Soon enough you were panting into Lando's chest and dripping over his thighs, overwhelmed by the new sensations taking over your body. When Oscar got to four fingers he pulled out and gave your ass a quick spank before dipping his cock into your wet folds once.

When his tip breached your rim, he stopped to let you adjust for a second, before continuing to slide into you slowly.

The drag of his cock inside you was unlike anything you'd ever felt before, and you felt like you were going to come any second, just from that.

Lando chose that moment to slide back into you, slightly less on the edge than before, but as soon as he was fully inside and nudged your g-spot you came with a shout as your body clamped down on the two cocks inside of you. The feeling so intense you swore you could see colours burst beneath your eyelids as the waves crashed over you and wetness dripped between the three of you.

Oscar groaned as he realised you were squirting, probably also for the first time.

Lando couldn't help himself, his hips moved of their own accord as he chased his high, and the stream just kept flowing as Oscar followed his lead, both men incredibly close to orgasm themselves.

The feeling of the two of them filling you up with their cum was peculiar but indescribably erotic as you came down from your high with them.

Turns out the worst part of aftercare with Lando and Oscar, was having to instruct them on how to remove their (now slightly smudged) makeup.

Your legs were too unstable to move so you barked orders at them in the bathroom until they were done. Then they came to bed and lay on either side of you, hands wandering over each others bodies as the three of you drifted into bliss

Looks like your days of covering hickeys weren't quite finished yet.

[felixbit]

employee discount

pairing: jeongin x gn!reader w. 1.5k genre: fluff, coffee shop au summary: you've been going to the same coffee shop ever since you moved to busan. you seem to be the favorite of the cute barista, jeongin, because he started giving you the employee discount. warnings: none part 2

Moving to a new city was difficult. This much you figured out when you'd moved to Busan six months ago. Even with a job and an apartment, things seemed to still be stressful no matter how much you tried to settle in.

There were upsides to the move, though. Getting a coffee before work had seemed to slip into your routine as it did for many. Even if it would cost far less to make your favorite drink at home, it was a habit you weren't breaking any time soon. The atmosphere of a coffee shop was too pleasant to give up, and the coffee tasted marginally better.

It helped that there was this guy that worked there. The first time you'd seen him was the first time you were in the shop, so you were too busy getting yourself oriented to process just how beautiful he was. But every time you'd seen him since, you couldn't help but stare as he made your order.

His pretty smile whenever he saw you, the way his eyes would almost shut and make him look like a fox, was so endearing. He'd memorized your name by the second week of your attendance, and your regular order by three weeks. When you'd walk up to the register, he'd look like he was thinking really hard and guess a drink, sighing dramatically if he got it wrong.

Your days seemed to be noticeably worse on the days you'd get your morning drink and he wasn't there working. You knew that, of course, he was a man with a life and couldn't work every morning. But that didn't stop you from being bummed out about it. You'd yearn to see him almost all day, which made the next time you did that much sweeter.

Any friend you'd talked to since had gotten an earful about the cute barista you saw all the time. The day you learned his name, Jeongin, you might've typed it into your phone five hundred times in texts. For such a cute and endearing man, his name was equally amazing.

The way you obsessed over him almost made you feel like you were in school again. You could picture it: writing his name next to your own in the margins of your notebook with hearts around it. In truth, it was just a little barista crush. Maybe one day you'd shoot your shot, but it wasn't at the top of your priority list.

Maybe you were a little too blinded by love in the moment to notice, but the amount you were spending on coffee had gone down in the last few weeks. You didn't pinpoint the cause being from your coffee budget, so it surprised you when you'd finally figured out what was going on.

It was a day like most others. The late spring warmth was in the air, getting your final taste of the season before summer began. Just like you had every day, you got ready for work and went to the coffee shop.

Stepping inside hit you with the smell of fresh coffee grounds. The soft ambient music playing set you almost instantly into a state of comfort as you looked behind the bar to see a familiar figure. He was looking intently down at the latte art he was pouring out, so you couldn't see his face. You knew it was Jeongin.

Staring at him made you realize just how soft his hair looked. Maybe he bought a new conditioner? Either way, you stepped closer to the counter and watched as his steady hands carefully poured the white cream into the coffee mug. When you really squinted, you could make out that he was making a cute little bear face.

Just as he had finished the design and slid the mug out, calling out the customer's name, he looked up at you and grinned. You felt your stomach stir with butterflies as your eyes met. He waved a little hello as he walked with you over to the register.

"Good morning, Jeongin," You said as you smiled, your eyes looking over his name tag. The writing on it looked done by hand, and it made you wonder if it was his handwriting.

Jeongin briefly looked down at the register, tapping on the screen a few times before looking up at you again. "Good morning, y/n. How are you?"

"I'm not so bad," You shrugged, "Same as always, I guess. How are you doing?"

"Pretty good, actually! I'm moving into a new apartment soon. Got the contract all set and the deposit made," Jeongin explained, "Kind of exciting."

A flurry of questions spun through your head. You took a moment before asking, "A new apartment? Will you still be here in Busan, making coffee?"

Jeongin waved his hand, "Yeah, I'll still be around, don't worry. The new place will actually be closer to the shop," He grinned and looked you in the eye, "I'm not leaving you behind."

Your face flushed a little, but you sighed a little out of relief. "That's good to hear, I wouldn't trust anyone else to make my drink like you do."

Jeongin laughed and shook his head. "Well, I'm not going to be a barista forever.. I hope you'll find a way to cope with that."

"Don't remind me," You said wistfully, "What will I ever do without your expertise before I go to work?"

You could see him flash a look for a moment, as if he had something to say, before stopping and sighing. "I guess we'll see."

Deciding not to pry, you continued on. "Well, I guess you'll need to make my drink today to make me forget that you won't work here one day."

"I can do that," Jeongin tapped the register screen a few more times before you saw your order pop up on the small screen. You took out your card and looked up at the balance before watching it change as he pressed a button.

The price had fallen to half of what it originally showed as. Jeongin looked up at you like everything was normal, but your face only reflected confusion. Looking from the price and back to him a few times, you finally spoke up. "Wait, what did you just do?"

"Hm?" Jeongin furrowed his brows for a second, "What do you mean?"

"The price, it.." You pointed at it, your voice trailing off into nothingness. You weren't crazy, right? "What did you do to it?"

Jeongin paused for a few seconds before chuckling softly to himself. "You just now noticed?" You stared at him blankly until he continued, "I've been giving you my employee discount for like, three weeks."

You were dumbfounded, to say the least. You'd noticed you had a little more money than you expected to, but you hadn't put the pieces together as to why that was. "Why would you do that?" You asked.

He simply shrugged his shoulders and looked down for a moment. "I don't know. Maybe you're my favorite customer."

The outright admission took you by surprise and you couldn't help the smile that crept onto your face in response. "Am I really?"

"What if you are?" He looked up again and met your eyes. His voice sounded a little more confident, but you could notice a slight shake in the end.

You didn't really know what to do with that information. It would certainly explain why he'd done it, but that opened up a whole new avenue of questions. You simply inserted your card to pay for the drink, looking up at him. "That would be.. nice."

His eyes looked uncertain. You could see that he was looking at you for something, but it wasn't clear what it was. He took a breath and watched the transaction go through. He opened his mouth for a second to say something before stopping.

Leaving you hanging, Jeongin picked out the cup for your drink, writing on the order details and beginning to make it at his work station. Still confused, you decided to just watch him work as always. He was strangely precise in everything he did, always making your drinks look pretty and taste great.

You got a little lost in watching his hands work that he was pushing your drink out to you before you knew it. You snapped back into reality, seeing that he had a smile on his face as you picked up the cup with your drink. Taking a sip, you smiled at the taste. Perfect.

"Have a good day, y/n." Jeongin said as he wiped down his work station and finally turned away from you. You were positively bursting with questions but the interaction seemed to abruptly be over, so you walked towards the door while taking another sip.

As you went to take a drink, you noticed writing under your finger that seemed out of place. Moving your hand, you looked at the words in sharpie and couldn't help but laugh. Your heart stirred, turning back at Jeongin, who was totally looking back at you.

don't get me fired 01-1234-5678

[cliosunshine]

Thinking about wearing promise rings with Jason...

Warning: NSFW at the end

you got the idea of buying matching promise rings after scrolling too far on Pinterest on a lazy day and seeing a post with a couple wearing puzzle pieces promise rings

you fell in love with the idea and knowing your first year anniversary with Jason was coming up, you wanted to surprise him

now, getting his ring size wasn't the easiest task as he was always on alert, even when asleep. you had to trick him with a silly string game to finally get it

hiding your excitement was even worse

he could read right through you, but chose not to comment on the way you looked at his hands with a goofy smile on your face and sighed to yourself before returning to your current task

the date eventually came and you were an anxious wreck

you started to second guess every decision you had made

was the ring too much? maybe he would think that the heart shape was too childish. maybe he didn't like wearing rings-

you hadn't even gotten that physical yet, deciding to take things slow as relationships in general were something fairly new for the both of you

what if you were overstepping and he saw the ring as an oppressive symbol of ownership and forced commitment instead of a declaration of love and loyalty?

but his reaction to it couldn't have surprised you more

you had spent a wonderful day with Jason, going to a museum exhibition you had been keeping your eyes on for weeks and then having a picnic in Gotham Park, basking all the sunlight you could get even on a winter day. the two of you drank hot chocolate and held hands like two teenagers in love.

you lived for these days, where you could admire Jason being so carefree and appreciate the small things in life.

you may or may not have taken a dozen candid photos of him.

jason had been all smiles throughout the whole day, so after eating the dinner you had cooked together in your apartment, silence settling for the first time that day between the two of you, you got nervous real quick.

"you alright, sweetheart?"

his gaze was on you the whole time. you were cuddled up next to one another on the couch, a thick sherpa blanket over your bodies. you didn't look away from the tv, the show playing wasn't that good but you couldn't dare to look at him, suddenly shy.

"mh mh, everything's ok honeybun"

he chuckled at the pet name but didn't relent, tilting your chin with two of his fingers so that you would meet his gaze.

physical touch was something fairly new between the two of you. although you had been dating for a year now, you respected Jason's boundaries that he had set up right at the beginning, and both of you were taking small steps to slowly overcome them. so far, you had managed to make him feel at ease with holding hands, hugging him, and cuddling. he was still coming to terms with the fact that you actually wanted him to touch you and wanted him in your space.

this week you got close to kissing, but you were quick to reassure him when he freaked out, apologising for not being ready.

you were there for him, and you wanted to show him.

so him initiating physical touch? oh yeah, that was a big step, alright.

you released a shaky breath, looking away, "I really want to give you something, love"

Jason loosened the grip he had on your chin and rested his hand on his lap, a faint blush covering the top of his ears and cheeks. he looked so pretty with the warm lamp light casting golden hues on his flustered face.

"Oh, yeah?" you nodded, taking his hand in yours and running your thumb over his slightly bruised knuckles.

you got up, going to your room to retrieve the small velvet box you had meticulously picked in the jewellery shop in Gotham Heights.

you returned and sat on the couch, pulling both of your knees to your chest, holding the box in between your legs and your torso for dear life.

"I've been thinking about us, Jay, and I love how much progress we've made in our relationship in just one year," your eyes were going teary as you smiled at him. Jason could only look at you as you paused, gears clearly turning in his head.

"I want to be there for you. I want to know more of you as our relationship progresses. Before even starting dating, we'd been friends for a good couple of years and I've been grateful that you allowed me to come into your life and let me have a look at your soul, slowly trusting me to get closer and closer to you. This- this gift I have for you- I don't want you to see it for something that it wasn't meant to be in the first place. This gift to you is a promise that I'm making you. It's a promise that I'll be by your side because I want to, and it is in no way, shape, or form a way to hold you down or force you to some form of bond you're not ready for yet. I love you, Jason, and I hope you will love this gift, too"

With tears running down your cheeks, you pried the small bow open and presented the two silver rings in the inside.

Jason was holding onto your left hand the entire time, looking at you with wide eyes and suddenly feeling like his heart was caught up in his throat.

he lowered his haze onto the rings and subconsciously squeezed your hand tighter.

there were two rings in the box. one of them was daintier than the other and had a plain heart in the middle of it, while the other one was thicker in width and had the same heart, this time cut out so it would accodomate the first ring.

jason held back tears as he looked at you.

"these are for us?"

you nodded with a laugh, wiping the remaining tears on your face. you were amused at the starstruck look on his face. all he could do was look between you and the rings and squeeze your hands.

"do you like them? I was worried the heart shape would have been too childish...if they are it's ok I can go change them for another pair of rings. or if you don't like wearing rings at all it's ok, I'm sorry I should have really asked you about it, I know it's a lot-"

the feeling of Jason's chapped lips on yours shut you up. with wide eyes, you tried to understand what was going on before shutting them tightly and melting against his lips, pulling him closer. it only lasted a couple of seconds, but as you pulled away, you felt as if all of your breath had been sucked out of your lungs. he had soft lips, and the thought of what just happened made your head spin.

jason, too, seemed to be in a haze if his blushing face was anything to go by. he rested his forehead against yours, pulling in closer, "I love them."

you were so flustered you couldn't speak. instead, with a very wide smile and a lovestruck expression on your face, you picked up his ring, prompting him to do the same with yours.

you started to read the engraving inside of it - better yet, you were reciting it while looking at him.

"You are my heart, my life,-"

jason was quick to catch on, completing the quote.

"-my one and only thought."

now both of you were sporting goofy grins as you leaned in and exchanged a chaste kiss.

Jason looked at the engraving, smiling to himself, "Conan Doyle, uh?"

you chuckled as you curled up at his side, resting your head on his shoulder, "mh mh. It was the first book you had recommended me after I declared my undying hatred for historical adventures,"

he kissed the top of your head, pulling you even closer than imaginable, "you wanna do the honours?"

you gingerly held your (his) ring up and took his left hand, sliding it on his ring finger and then kissing it.

he did the same, this time holding eye contact with you as he kissed the ring and you swore you heard fireworks explode in your head at how in love you were with him that moment.

from that day on, neither of you took your rings off

the only time it wasn't on Jason's finger was when he went on patrol, opting to wear it by hanging it on the silver chain he always had around his neck

it also had become an habit of his to kiss you and then kiss the ring on his hand before heading out on patrol, symbolising a promise of coming back to you by the end of the night

he also started fidgeting with it during stakeouts and when he felt anxious, realising that it brought him an immense sense of calm by having a reminder of you and your love on him

but when he wasn't on patrol he would always, and i mean always wear it on his finger

he was honestly more excited than you were to show it off to everybody

Dick was low-key jealous to not have had something like that with Kory

what jason loved the most tho was when you'd put your heart through his

the first time that you did it was when the two of you were splayed out on the couch, enjoying a slow Sunday morning in blissed silence

he was reading a book and slowly felt you tugging his left hand towards you

he let you at first, without looking at what you were doing, but then when he heard you giggle to yourself, he promptly turned his head

and he thanked every God in existence for that because as he did, he caught you piecing the two hearts together, giggling as you two were now ring finger to ring finger

He felt so ashamed after you left, his ears and throat flushed pink as he jerked off to the image of the rings fitting perfectly together.

Jason chanted your name in a breathy whisper as he stroked his cock with his left hand, moaning shamelessly as the ring glinted under the low lights of his apartment and imagining it was your hand and your ring touching him while whispeing sweet nothings in his ears. The mental image was enough to send him over the edge and make him cum all over his hand, coating the ring in the process.

Jason whined as he threw his head back, his whole body trembling.

he thought about what it would look like when you two will be ready to have sex for the first time.

he thought about intertwining your hands together as he slid into you for the very first time and what faces you'd make, what pretty sounds he could manage to pull out of you.

he thought about seeing your ringed hand making its way across his body, and then his mind went foggy as he pictured his own hand wrapping around your throat, his ring resting against your skin creating such a beautiful contrast between the lovely heart shape and the downright nasty things he wanted to do to you.

safe to day, he wanted to see the rings slotting together more often

[capricornlevi]

inevitability- nanami x f!reader

tags: friends to lovers, salaryman!nanami, breeding, unprotected sex, fingering, missionary, mating press, creampie, mild cumplay

cw: alcohol (all sex sober & consensual!), pregnancy mentions, rough but v v consensual sex, reader and nanami are both in their late 20s/early 30s

word count: 5.3k

a/n: in which your decide with your good friend of many years that it's time to get you pregnant <3 this has been festering in my brain and i know it's pretty different than what i usually write but ! here it is! ahh! sounds of me screaming!

//

"this is weird, y'know?" you blurt out, watching as nanami hangs up his jacket by your front door before settling down beside you on the couch. he keeps a respectful distance, resting his hands on his broad thighs and smoothing down the fabric of his slacks, clearly nervous. "this is very, very weird. like, weird at levels i don't think people have achieved before."

"i know," nanami replies diplomatically, as if he could be anything but excruciatingly aware of how unconventional this is. "are you having second thoughts? because i completely understand --"

you shake your head abruptly. "no, no, just ... thinking aloud, i guess. just getting used to this, because it's really ... um ..."

"weird?" nanami offers helpfully, and you turn to nod.

"weird."

because what else do you call agreeing to have a baby with your platonic friend of 10 years?

you first met nanami on the second day of college and knew right away he'd be a good dad, even back when having kids wasn't even a consideration for you. it was obvious; he was already a good dad back then, with how he looked out for his underclassmen even as he progressed through his degree. how he stayed sober when he knew people would be going overboard, not sleeping until you texted him to confirm you'd gotten home safe after a party.

he helped you study at the weekends and, in return, you provided him with a discount at the local cafe where you worked. through this time spent knocking back americanos and proofing each other's work, you grew close.

even with all his responsibility and good sense contrasting your exuberance and recklessness, you found yourself enjoying being with him. and he could be funny, too, delivering sharp and witty quips when you least expected it.

you became inseparable. insufferable, some would call it; the matching-halloween-costume type of insufferable, a borderline codependent but obliviously happy friendship that can only be fostered on a college campus.

then right after college, when you had dived straight into your quarter-life crisis and dyed your hair every colour under the sun, got piercings in too many places, slept with questionable people and dated some even worse, nanami had gotten himself a decent, impressive, well-paying job. it was a job that had him wearing tailored suits at 23, paired with fancy glasses that cost more than your rent, and you'd laughed at him, at how serious he looked. but you also worried at how the bags under his eyes grew deeper and darker, how the amused lilt to his voice started to dissipate as time went on.

his 9 to 5 turned to an 8 to 6, and then he was working weekends and skipping movie nights, missing out on meeting new boyfriends of yours, fading into the periphery of your life with you unable to do anything about it.

as with all relationships in your twenties, it was hard to stay in touch. the higher he climbed up the career ladder, the further you grew apart.

soon, it was only on holidays or birthdays when you both would reach out, cordial and civil but achingly unfamiliar.

then, on your twenty-ninth birthday, drunk at a bar and having taken a couple minutes away from your raucous friend group, you had stepped outside to grab some fresh air only to walk head-on into nanami's firm chest.

you had spluttered apologies, lifting your head to see who you had headbutted, only to find your old friend looking down at you with an amused look on his face.

and just like that, things picked up where they left off. you spent the night talking, catching up over drinks and laughter.

with a tone that was only half-teasing, you had asked him what brought him out tonight -- it was hard enough to get him to come out for drinks when you were both in college, much less now with his big fancy job.

but he had laughed in that gentle, airy way you'd heard a thousand times, explaining that he had been out socialising with clients who had just left minutes before. he was just on his way out before running into you.

perfect timing. painfully perfect.

you stayed talking until last call, making exhilarated promises to get in touch the next day.

and to your surprise, you both actually stuck to that.

in the ten months since then, you've met up every sunday for breakfast at your favourite cafe. over lattes and freshly baked croissants, you fill each other in on the details of the half-decade spent apart. he had a serious girlfriend, serious to the point of moving in together, but she'd gotten spooked and left him last summer to go travelling. he was hurt, obviously, but understood her perspective in that annoyingly calm, measured way that is just part of his nature.

and on your end -- despite the drunken circumstances in which you'd been reacquainted, which is all part of moderation, after all -- you've actually calmed down considerably since your early twenties.

you have your own apartment. you have a rescue cat you care for immensely, even when he tries wriggling out of your arms to go stare out the window at passing cyclists. you have a retirement fund, started yoga, learned to bake your own bread.

you're not boring, you still have fun and let off steam whenever you can, but you're having the sort of revelations about life that nanami seems to have had years ago.

fun is good. fun is important. but it can't be everything, because then it starts to come at a cost.

truthfully, the birth of your nephew is what prompted you to make some changes. you didn't want to show up to babysit hungover. you wanted to have funds to hand in order to treat him to little toys and sweets when your sister allowed it, and soon found yourself amazed at how his little face lit up every time he saw you.

it made you grow up, and fast.

in the course of your cafe hangouts, you had mentioned your nephew to nanami. showed pictures of the boy's pudgy little hands reaching for the camera, told stories of how he could tell the difference between new episodes of Bluey versus reruns, and how he's changed your entire life without even realising.

soon, talk about your nephew turned to general musings about your own future.

then one night, when you decided to switch your meetup location from the cafe to a cocktail bar, you shared something that you had barely admitted to yourself.

you wanted to have a kid.

this realisation wasn't borne from some crisis about entering a new decade, it wasn't something forced on you by others or general societal pressure. it was something that grew organically, inspired by the honour of watching your little nephew grow up.

to your surprise, nanami didn't scoff or dismiss you. you figured he'd have rolled his eyes, laughing off your confession since you weren't in a committed relationship.

instead, he expressed similar sentiments, but for slightly different reasons.

"i'm sick of work being my whole life," he had mused quickly, sipping an old fashioned with a funny look in his eye. "it was only when we started hanging out again that i realised how much of my life I've wasted at a place that wouldn't care if i lived or died."

"do i need to be worried about you having the type of rebellious streak the rest of us went through ten years ago?" you asked, smiling and fidgeting with one of your rings without thinking.

he waved off your suggestion with a fond roll of his eyes. "i'm not impulsively quitting or anything, don't worry. just want to take a step back, i suppose, or find something with shorter hours. i just think there's more to life than endless hours slaving behind a desk."

you toasted to that sentiment, knocking back the last of your cosmo.

nanami continued, watching you set your empty glass back down with a soft grin on his lips. "the whole family, kids thing ... i get it, you know? it makes sense."

"yeah?" you pried carefully, interested to see where this is going.

"i'd be lying if i said i didn't think about it, too. i have a nest egg saved up which means i'd be able to take time off to help with a kid, to actually be there to see them grow up. and it's not that i want to have one just because i think i need to -- i think i'd be decent at it, y'know? the whole parenting thing."

you obviously agreed. you'd thought the same for a while now, and getting reacquainted with the man has only spurred on those thoughts.

he really would be perfect.

the issue wasn't discussed further that night, but it was brought up again at coffee the following sunday, then at the bakery the week after that, and before long, it was your birthday again.

after a massive party with all your friends and family -- and a little too much wine -- nanami had stayed behind to help you clean up, because of course he would, and you got to talking again, got to revisiting that topic that had been at the back of both of your minds.

you can't remember the exact wording of the discussion or how many bottles of prosecco fuelled the conversation, but what you do know is that when you sobered up, you didn't regret agreeing to it.

you were gonna have a kid together.

you and nanami.

coparenting.

as outlandish an idea as it might seme on the surface, when looking at it a little deeper, it made sense to you. this wasn't decided on a whim. this was something that had momentum building behind it for months and months, perhaps even years, without you even realising.

when meeting up for coffee the following week, you both gave each other an out. said there'd be no big deal if things were called off. but neither one of you took it, despite laughing for what felt like hours about how bizarre it all felt.

still, no sign of backing out.

which brings you to tonight, the agreed-upon date of when you'd start trying.

nanami had suggested using artificial fertility methods if that made you more comfortable, but you politely turned him down, thinking it unnecessary. he wasn't a stranger -- plus, you'd be lying if you said he wasn't objectively attractive -- so if he had no objections to trying things the old-fashioned way, then you didn't either.

and he obviously didn't mind too much since he's now here on your couch, folding his arms and then unfolding them as he waited for you to make the first move.

he looks good, despite all the nerves. he's filled out over the years, though he was always strong, with every muscle in his body well-defined and perfectly proportional. his hair is still blond but with the faintest specks of grey, his skin brighter and more well-rested than that night you got reacquainted.

his deep brown eyes stay fixed on you and your skin heats as his gaze traces over you.

"do you want me to kiss you?" you break the silence, the words tumble messily from your mouth.

he looks taken aback, as if this was something he'd vaguely considered but never thought would actually happen.

"do ... do you want to?"

his earnestness has you smiling, cutting through the tension, and you meet his eyes properly for the first time since he arrived tonight. he always has this way of making you feel comfortable, his presence alone is like an embrace that calms the racing thoughts that constantly occupy your mind.

it's only now that you're close, so close, you realise that maybe you really do want to --

"i wouldn't suggest it otherwise," you murmur softly as if your heart isn't hammering against your ribcage, shifting nearer to him on the couch but keeping that last bridge of distance for him to close.

his tongue swipes over his lower lip, almost subconsciously demonstrating his wishes as his line of sight drifts down to your mouth. he nods then, dipping his head, only a couple inches of space between you now.

"yeah -- yeah, okay."

you can see how his pupils dilate as you reach out to slip his glasses off, setting them down on the coffee table, cupping his face in your hands.

he returns your smile at that gesture, just the slightest hint of nerves in his eyes that disappear when he finally decides to press your lips to yours.

his lips are softer than you imagined ... though until this very moment, you hadn't even realised that this was something you had imagined.

he lets you set the rhythm but doesn't shy away; he meets your movements, your energy at every kiss, letting you stop for a moment to adjust yourself as things progress.

this should feel weird, right? you should have some lingering feeling of awkwardness at making out with your best friend, at taking his hand in yours and setting it down on your thigh to show you want him to touch you?

this was supposed to be a relatively unromantic event, after all. it wasn't meant to be the start of anything. though it was never clinical or unemotional -- you're technically starting a family together, after all, if an entirely unconventional one -- you never foresaw it going down like this.

this feels like something that was meant to happen.

he pulls back ever-so-slightly, lips still grazing against yours as he asks softly, "this okay?"

you nod by way of answer, not wanting to waste another second not kissing him. nanami captures your lips with his again, and with renewed enthusiasm, slips his tongue into your mouth, probing gently and barely hiding the low rumble of a groan deep in his throat.

all thoughts of propriety start to fade into the ether. his hand on your thigh burns hot, shifting up and down the exposed skin. you'd worn a nice dress for the evening, unsure of the dress code for an event as strange as this, but you find yourself grateful for choosing something that fell so far above the knee.

his hands are rougher than his lips but not in an unpleasant way. you figure it's from his only out-of-work hobby that doesn't consist of hanging out with you; his renovation group. nanami is part of a volunteer organisation that helps build and renovate houses for those in need -- as if he couldn't get any more painfully perfect, obviously.

you stay like that for a few more minutes, exploring these new sensations and becoming increasingly more aware of the ball of anticipation burning in your lower stomach. everywhere he touches you feels warm, every soft nip against your lips feels electric.

then, against every instinct in your body, you force yourself to pause to take a few steadying breaths. nanami responds in the same way, pulling his hands back to his own thighs, adjusting his stance on the couch.

he's hard, you can see as much from the awkward way he shuffles in his seat. not to mention the bulge very obviously visible in the front of his slacks -- just seeing it fills you with want, with the need to touch and be touched.

this is moving more fluidly than you had expected, arriving at each decision without a second thought. in that vein, you decide to ask:

"want to head to the bedroom?", hoping you don't sound as desperate as you're feeling. "if you're ready -"

"yes," he responds before you've even finished your sentence. you feel grateful that the eagerness is not one-sided as you get to your feet, taking nanami by the hand to pull him up with you.

when you've reached your room and the door is shut behind you, revealing the modest set up of your freshly-made bed and a single scented candle -- any more than that felt a little too forced, too awkward -- you marvel at the feeling of nanami's hands on your hips, somehow gentle and firm at the same time, manoeuvring you onto the bed with a pre-rehearsed confidence that never verges on forceful.

your head hasn't even hit the pillow before he's kissing you again like he's starving for it. it's messy this time, the gentle exploration from before giving way to something more primal and urgent.

you have to remind yourself that this is your nanami you're kissing. the nanami who was there for you through the most painful college breakups. the nanami who knows your coffee order, who helped zip up the back of your graduation dress.

but now, with his tongue against yours and the stiffness pressing against your stomach, all you can think is why you didn't do this sooner?

just as you're about to combust underneath him, he pulls back, balancing himself on an elbow as his eyes flick down to see how your dress is bunched at the top of your thighs. he closes his eyes, his breaths ragged and unsteady.

"i don't know how--" he whispers, tongue gliding over his kiss-slick lips, "how ... technical you might want to go about this."

you let out a little laugh, craning your neck to kiss his jawline so he knows it's not at his expense.

"i never really thought about the technicalities, but it doesn't have to be too clinical, or anything. i know you, you know me. we can just ... have sex."

"have sex," he repeats slowly, eyes open again, the hint of a grin on his face.

"yeah, have sex!" you answer with a chuckle. "or is there another way you'd like me to phrase it?"

he laughs then too, looking at you again as he shakes his head softly.

"what?" you press him with a mock indignance. "it's rude to laugh at my suggestion, actually. i felt it was pretty accurate."

"i'm not laughing at you," he says gently, lips still curved upwards. "just ... i must have pictured you saying those words a thousand times, and i never thought it -- it's just funny to hear out loud, is all."

it takes you a second to fully comprehend the words as they wash over you.

you'd be ignorant to say that the realisation never dawned on you, but it was something you thought was a relic of your college years. he had blushed a few times too many whenever the topic of sex came up at parties, had a hint of jealousy in his voice when giving advice about one particular ex-boyfriend. at your apartment complex's winter party in senior year, you can tell he was thinking about kissing you.

but that was when you were young and naive, inexperienced with life, and the thought of this nanami desiring you, of picturing you in his life, of imagining what you'd look like spread out underneath him like this --

you lift your head and grab his shirt collar, yanking him in for another kiss. when he's settled back against you, your hands weave down to unbutton his shirt. you feel him smile against your lips as he starts to unzip your dress in return.

you're a mess of limbs as items of clothing get strewn across your bedroom carpet. before long, it's all skin-on-skin, the heat of his body pressed against yours before he grabs your waist and flips you over until you're straddling him.

you feel the length of him pressed against your stomach, hot and painfully hard, but from the way he cups his hand against your neck and starts to kiss your throat, you know he's not going to rush this.

just as you gasp out his name as his teeth nip against your pulse point, he brings his other hand to the apex of your thighs, fingertips resting just over your pubic bone, barely brushing against the sensitive skin.

"want me to touch you?" he mumbles quietly against your throat, the way his breath fans over you making you shiver.

you nod pitifully, hips canting towards him, but he doesn't budge.

"need you to say it," he says low, quiet, thumb shifting down by the millimetre, "need to know how much you want it."

"i want it," you gasp, the arch of your back deepening the closer he gets to your aching core, all concerns about appearing desperate evaporating with every press of his lips to your skin. "i want it, kento, p- please touch me."

nanami obliges, fingertips trailing down until his thumb is brushing over your clit. he slides his hand lower, fingers slipping through your damp lips, and then uses your own wetness to start rubbing you in earnest.

any form of articulate thought slips from your mind, replaced with only those that can get you more of this -- nanami's fingers playing with your clit, the other hand possessively resting at your nape, his cock pressed between you with precum beading at the tip.

you want it in your mouth. you want it inside you, and as you go to shift your hips, nanami shifts his back.

"want to see what you look like when you come first," he says, slipping his middle and ring finger inside you as if to prove he's going about it the right way.

and he really is, because after only a few strokes of his fingers, your vision is getting hazy. you've never been this turned on so quickly before, never felt this desperate, all-consuming urge -- but then again, you've never had a man look at you like this before now either.

you try to focus on the sensation of his fingers stretching you open, his thumb still stroking your clit in the perfect rhythm, but your mind wanders to the thick cock pressed up against you. you want to rub against him, let him fill you up, make him feel good too --

but looking at his face now, pupils blown and lower lip raw from biting down on it, you can tell this is as much for him as it is for you.

less than a minute later it hits you, the explosion of warmth radiates out to every cell in your body, rendering you a boneless mess in nanami's arms.

he holds you as the aftershock subsides, strong arms keeping you steady even when your legs feel as though they've turned to jelly. when you feel capable of supporting yourself, you slide ungracefully from where you were perched on his thighs and fall back against your pillows, head spinning blissfully.

nanami leans down next to you and kisses your forehead, whispering words of praise that fill you with a strange sensation you can't quite place.

"want to take a break?" he ask after a few moments have passed, "or if you're tired, we can try again later --"

"no," you cut him off, turning your head to look at him directly, face splitting into a smile through the post-orgasm haze. "i just need a second is all, i still -- if you want to --"

"i do."

and so to ease yourself back into it, you kiss him slowly, intimately, bodies gently intertwining as he shifts closer to you on the bed. you guide his hands to your chest, gasping as his thumb circles a nipple.

"you're just ... beautiful in a way i don't really have words for," he mumbles, watching you squirm pleasurably under him.

"nanami kento lost for words? a first time for everything," you manage to quip through it all, earning a pinch of the other nipple that turns your laugh into a moan.

"we've plenty more firsts to get through tonight."

at that, nanami shifts halfway down the mattress and gets to his knees, hands gripping your thighs as he spreads them open. he takes his cock in his hand and slowly drags the head through your folds, up and down but not yet penetrating you, appreciating how you're almost sucking him in, the eager way you pull back your legs to accommodate him.

he stays like that for a minute. every time you think he's about to sink in, he holds himself back as if transfixed by the obscene sounds that come from playing with your pussy, of using you to stroke himself off.

he looks to be on the verge of a choice, like his brain is fighting between two options: taking you slow and gentle like you deserve, or sinking in and fucked into you desperately, filling you up until he knows he's bred you, that you're his and only his.

you soon glean that he wants you to actually say it out loud, wants to hear those words he's fantasised about for so long.

"fuck me, kento."

now utterly unable to hold off any longer, he heeds your request, lining up and thrusting inside you in one fluid motion.

it's a pleasant stretch; he's still careful to let you adjust to his size but you're soon relishing the feeling of being so full, and the fucked-out grin on your face spurs him on.

his hips shift back inch by inch until he's almost fully pulled out, letting out a low groan as he sinks back in again, and at that, he knows he's a goner, completely lost to the feeling of his entire length buried inside you.

this is nanami at his most possessive, fucking into you as you're caged in by his strong arms, your knees now pulled back as far as they'll go. the skin on the back of your thighs is raw from your nails digging into them but you don't care, single-minded in your aim to keep the head of his cock brushing against that perfect spot inside you.

your shoulder blades press into your soft pillows as you try to keep from writhing too much, wanting with all of your might to avoid upsetting this perfect rhythm.

above you, nanami's perfect cheekbones are flushed, his brows knit tightly together, your silky walls wrapping tight around his cock in a way that's driving him to the brink sooner than he'd like. against all better judgment, he slows down just slightly, allowing himself to indulge in the sensation.

"you take my cock so well, y'know that?" he mumbles in between quiet grunts, "with that pretty look on your face when i fill you up... you're trying to kill me, i swear to god."

you both laugh breathlessly before yours breaks off in a moan, slurring his name as he speeds up subconsciously. he presses his lips to every inch of your neck, jaw, collarbone, thrusts unrelenting but never too much.

if you weren't already aware of how soaked you are, the slick sounds of his cock sliding in and out of you provide more than enough proof, melding with the soft squeak of your bedsprings to just about cut through the muffled sound of your moans.

your body now guided more by instinct than intention, you slip your hand down to where your hips are pressed together, two fingers circling the swollen bud of your clit. the angle of his ruts means his cock grazes your fingertips as he pulls out, the desperate rubbing of your hand between your legs spurring him on.

"still want me to come inside you?" he says then, strands of hair coming loose, sticking to his forehead, "want me to fill you up?"

you nod feebly -- the answer clearly not sufficient in itself, since he leans in, pressing his forehead to yours as he meets you for a wet, messy kiss. continuing his question with his lips still touching yours, he asks;

"want me to take care of you? want to be my pretty wife, hm, wanna -- fuck -- wanna be mine, yeah?"

you slur something unintelligible, focusing on the second orgasm gathering quick and hot in your core. you lose your grip on your thighs and fumble to pull your legs back up.

nanami helps to hike your legs back up -- but not in their original position. instead, he guides them until your ankles rest on his shoulders, and after taking just a second to press a kiss to your calf, he sinks back to the hilt. feeling him bottom out, your vision nearly goes white; this new angle allows him to slide in so deep it's practically splitting you open, so deep you can tell he's serious about breeding you.

somehow, the sensation remains just shy of too much -- it's not too much of a stretch or causing too much sensitivity -- it's more than you've ever taken but you honestly feel you could stay like this forever, taking nanami's cock like you were made for it, with him looking down at you with a mixture of reverence and pure lust.

you want him like this for the rest of your life.

"i'm gonna need you to answer, cos I'm pretty close," he half-pleads as if reading your mind, his voice deep and strained, firm chest heaving as the thrusts get messier and less coordinated.

though your mind is near-blank and your lungs feel they can't get enough air, you manage to mumble a "fuck, yes. want -- want you to come inside, kento ... please."

that last word tips him over with you following almost immediately after, clenching around his cock as you feel him pulsing inside you, feeling more full than you've ever felt in your life. his head tips back as he cums, moaning beautiful praise you can just about make out, strands of sentences about you being the only one he wants taking his come, about how he's going to keep fucking you full for as long as it takes.

sparks of electricity reverberate through your body, hips pushing against his as you ride out your orgasm, pretty little whimpers harmonising with nanami's continued praise.

you stay like that for what seems like forever, basking in the wave of pleasure that's just swept you away effortlessly.

everything is just ... warm. purely and blissfully warm. the warmth of his hands still gripping your legs, the warmth of your own breath fanning over your sweaty chest, the warmth between your legs that starts to dribble down the backs of your thighs when nanami pulls out.

for good measure, nanami uses two fingers to push some of his come back inside, grinning as aftershocks pulse around the digits.

you lower your tired legs to rest on the mattress, thighs aching from being bent practically in half, but it's easy to disregard any physical exhaustion when you feel this level of contentment.

nanami's arms are soon wrapped around you, pulling you to rest on top of his chest where you spend some moments of perfect silence.

you can hear his heart beating in his chest, skipping a beat when you angle your head up to meet his gaze again.

"well?" you ask, a smile imbued in your words. "still lost for words?"

"just thinking about how every second of this was worth waiting for," he replies without missing a beat, eyes crinkling at the corners as he watches how his answer flusters you.

with one hand behind his head as he rests of the pillow and the other wrapped around your shoulders, nanami looks more relaxed than you've maybe ever seen him.

this is a man who looked on the verge of a nervous breakdown when you reconnected less than a year ago; he's almost unrecognisable now, the dark circles under his eyes have faded, his face filling out a bit more, the smile on his face entirely genuine.

and in this moment you feel a burst of clarity, a sudden realisation that's eluded you since that first night you met in college.

maybe -- just maybe -- you're as good an influence on him as he is on you.

[a1ecmcdowell]

dean winchester x angel!reader — it's okay, it's okay.

or, dean breaks everything he touches, including himself. or, the first time dove has to use her grace.

cw, angst, injured!dean, he walks you through it kind of, dean whimpers but at what cost

word count: 2k

notes, this doesn't count toward my vote. if dean x angel wins u WILL get another i am loyal to my word!! i just got this idea n needed to get it out before i forget < 3 sorry ahead of time if it is 1) sad or 2) sucks it's late ok </3

★ ˚⋆

everyone always says the same thing when the worst comes true, but it reigns true every time - this was never meant to happen.

sure, dean could have been more careful. sure, he could have spent more time worrying about his mortal, breakable body, and not the ageless angel who'd attached to his hip. he'd gotten... used to it, more than anything, because accepting it wasn't the right word.

no, he did not want you at his side at every turn. that gave him another body to fuss over, to make sure didn't get hurt, no matter the cost. even if it was irrational. but dammit, it was you.

you were resilient. he was certain you could take care of yourself, but he panicked when he saw the claw emerging from the pitch black, heading right for your direction. dean knew, logically, that you sensed it coming, that you could have protected yourself-

he took the swipe of gashes to the shoulder anyways. a long swipe. shoulder to sternum - couldn't feel it through the daze of adrenaline, but he could feel the blood. so much blood, and so close to his heart-

"dean!"

your voice pulses in his ears like its own heartbeat. is he losing consciousness? fuck.

your footsteps pound on the dusty dirt trail in the forest, running up to where he was slumped against the nearest tree. dean coughed, blood staining his bottom lip, metal and copper clashing violently on his tongue.

"hi, dove," he whispers, trying to breath life back into his voice, falling just short. "little worse for wear, aren't i?"

"now is not the time for jokes." you kneel next to him, your eyes flitting quickly over his body until they land on the wet crimson slashes across his chest. "you bleed."

his lips quirk, even as the adrenaline is wearing and he's starting to feel the stark pain of the extent of his injuries, because he can't help it. "i do bleed," he says, wincing as the huff of laughter falls out of his mouth rips at his already ripped skin. "s'what happens when you get hurt."

"why did you get hurt?" you demand, fierce and defiant even when he's facing death. good god, he adored you. "i will live. i heal. you..."

dean knew. he knew this. how did he explain this to you, when you didn't even understand what his feelings meant?

"i've heard i look pretty good covered in blood," he says instead. "that true?"

your nimble fingers clamp hard on dean's jaw, forcing him to turn and look at you. so much feist in one ageless body. "now. is not. the time."

"you're so pretty," he breathes, his eyes melting in and out of focus. "so damn pretty when you're mad at me."

your face contorts in a mix of confusion and outrage. this, he thought, is why he doesn't tell you the other things he's been dying for in his mind. as much as dean loves your furious pout, as much as he loves the way you take that damn lip between your teeth again as you think how to stop his dying, it's better to keep you at a distance.

"the bag," dean nods to the duffel he'd dropped in his haste, a couple of feet from you, "get the bag for me, sweet girl."

he can sense the why? on your lips, and smiles, just slightly, when it doesn't come. too detrimental of circumstances for you to question is every ask and call, it seems. how bittersweet it is to be a priority only when he's dying.

you clamber back over with the bag, all but dropping it on his knee in your hurry. dean didn't even tell you what to look for before you'd unzipped it and started digging. "there's bandage wrap in there, somewhere," he rasps out, nodding his head toward you, even though you're not looking at him, "need it. to stop the bleeding."

your hands are shaking. he has nothing else to look at but you - wouldn't look anywhere else regardless - but it's the first thing his eyes lock on. "hey," he says, a little more firmly, even as it makes him wince, "s'okay. it's okay."

"you are dying, and i am useless." you snatch up a small square of shiny wrapping, and he has an explanation for why, exactly, he carries condoms everywhere, but you don't even question it. he forgot that you were too focused on him to be your usual, curious self. "this? will it protect you?"

dean pauses. now is not the time, your words echo in his head, and still, he can't help it. "protects a part of me."

you scoff, and he's upset, for a second, that the joke goes over your head. another thing he should have taught you about. upset again when you the condom also goes over your head and into the dirt with your dismissive toss.

should have. how dramatic was that? already thinking in past tense, because the pain has ebbed again, and that's never good. he was relatively calm before when he could feel it, knowing that, at the very least, it meant he could feel, but-

your hands pluck out the little roll of bandage, shaking fingers tugging at the loose end and starting to unravel it. "yeah, you've got it. not useless, dove," he mumbles, shaking his head like he vehemently denies that bogus claim. "never useless."

"what do i do with it?"

dean lifts his shirt up and over again, wincing again with a deep rumbling whimper as he feels the tear again of his skin, his muscles. a wave of nausea renders him dizzy and speechless. his arms stay raised, his vision swimming.

your irritation is so evident on your face that he's certain, right then, he's never seen you so frustrated. dean wanted to ask why, especially after all of the times you've asked him that. he didn't understand your irritation with yourself. all he needed from you was to cover up the wounds so that you could heal him without risk of him bleeding out.

"you want picked up?" you ask, tilting your head in front of dean's to force his eyes to focus on you again. "now is not the time, again."

"no-" he says, lips twitching in the corners. at the very least, you were keeping him present and conscious, what with all of your adorable attitude. he licks his dry, cracked lips and tries to ignore the copper taste on his tongue. "take that end and wrap it around. like..."

dean doesn't know if you know what a vest is, or a sash, because you don't seem to know half as much as castiel does. maybe what cas meant when he brought you into the winchesters' lives was that your naivety ran so deep because you were a new angel, a fawn trying to catch its footing and stumbling along the way.

he watches as it clicks in your mind, what he means. you are so much smarter than he gives you credit for. he leans forward, mouth falling open in a shuddery, whimpering gasp. luckily, you don't stop what you're doing and ask if he's okay. your care, it seems, either doesn't extend that far, or extends farther due to the gravity of the situation.

you straddle him as you wrap the gauze around and around, and it's damn distracting, having you this close to him again. "do it until you don't see any more of the claw marks, yeah?"

your head moves in a nod but your eyes never once leave him, focused on the task at hand. winding and winding, the gauze tightening and tightening, until his chest feels stiff with it.

"s'good," he says, raising his hand to rest his fingers on your wrist. "great job, sweet girl. here-"

his fingers walk their way down your hand until he takes the roll of gauze between them, moving the strip to his teeth and tearing until it ripped free from the roll. "there we go."

again, you stare at him expectantly, only this time, he's staring right back at you with the same anticipation in his eyes. "go on, dove. do your divine thing."

a blink. a second blink. "i don't know how."

his heart, he thinks, falls down to his ass. bypasses the gaping wound in his sternum and drops.

"that would have been great to know before i took the fucking-" he can't even be mad at you. he's dizzy, starting to shiver, and yet the idea of hurting you made him feel worse than all of those things combined.

"i did not ask you to!" no, you didn't, but what was a man who was used to jumping in front of the bullets to do? "i did not ask, and you were not supposed to be stupid."

dean forces a strained smile. "sweetheart, s'kind of my thing."

you bend down, still straddling, close enough that your nose brushes his. fuck. he was going to die without knowing what it was like to close that gap. "not the time-"

"for jokes, yeah, i- i get that," he grumbles, throat thick, spluttering on a cough. blood splatters in a hapless pattern on his shirt, on yours. "think i'm- allowed t'joke when i'm dyin'."

"you are not." your eyes stay locked onto his. there's so much passion in them that they glimmer and glitter even now, in the dead of night. "not, to either of those things. i will..."

dean hates your expression. the defeated, helpless panic in it a stark contrast to your resilient eyes. he wants to comfort you. wants to smooth the pinched skin between your brows with his thumb, but everything's starting to feel a little heavy. "cas-" his head thumps back against the wall. "uses his hands. touch."

your expression softens. there it is again, that determined gleam overtaking every other emotion on your face. there's my girl, he thinks, even though it's a thought he's never allowed himself to think before, about you. his inhibitions are lessened now, though, and who is he to hide a thing from you?

slowly, your hands lift to his cheeks, cupping his face between your palms. your skin is so warm, and his is so cold, and he can't look away from your eyes. dean's never believed in someone as much as he does you, right now.

your eyes close, and he's still looking. his head leans forward and knocks against yours, like he can't get close enough. he'd do anything to know what your lips tasted like. if they were as sweet as you were, or as furious as you tended to get.

"it's not-" you growl, and he opens his mouth to say something to counteract the rush of heat your gravelly voice shoots through his icy veins, when- "fuck it."

two beats of shock wrack through him, and he has no time, not a split second at all, to prepare for the way your mouth crashes into his. his eyes blink wide in shock before a wave of warmth starts in his chest and spreads like roots through his blood and deep in his veins. he sees the blue-white flash of your grace as it spreads around the both of you.

you pull back so suddenly that your lips pop, staring at him expectantly. no, not dean, his red soaked bandages on the outside of his torn shirt. you give him no time to process it before you're clawing at it, tearing it down the center. "jesus, dove-" his eyes drop down to follow your gaze.

the only remnants of his injury were the dried streaks of blood running down his chest, pale red and shiny in the areas still drying in the cold night air.

you laugh, soft and hesitant, and it's the prettiest noise dean has ever heard. "if i'd known i just had t'almost die t'get you to kiss me," he says slowly, "i'd have done it a lot sooner."

even if it was hardly a kiss - more of a collision. he'd just have to teach you how he liked it, later.

tags,

@figthoughts, @jasvtsc, @titsout4nicholas, @deanswidow, @whyyouegg,

@bombarda-babe, @whisperingwillowxox, @underground-secret,

@bitchykittenconnoisseur, @jensenacklesantidote,

@keira-kaz2y5, @ostaramoon, @depressionbarbie2023, @ultravi0lence14, @loverslantern,

@bleuatlas, @minettacreekk, @sthefferrete

[mmywanda]

Pretty When You Sleep — W.M

——

Pairing: Dark!WandaMaximoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Nights are lot more dangerous than you think.

Warnings: noncon/dubcon, somnophilia, drugging, blood, murder, stalking, mentions of a knives, strap-on.

Word count: 2.9k

A/N: This is a very dark and heavy fic, if you find any of the warnings triggering, please do not read. Happy Halloween! 18+ only. Men dni.

Beta read by @poulengp <3

——

It started off small.

All the shoes you left in a mess by the door now neatly stacked up, laces undone, just so they were easier to slip on. The lamp you'd accidently leave on before falling asleep, being off when you woke up in the morning. Clothes that were dumped on the floor, suddenly folded up in your drawer.

Then it got weirder.

Your purse being filled with fifty dollar bills on the mornings you worried you wouldn't have enough to afford your groceries. Some of your clothes, specifically underwear, going missing. Your phone being in the other room when you woke up. Waking up with different pyjama bottoms on.

As it got worse, you found yourself confiding in your friend. Well, a little more than a friend, but the two of you had never labelled it. The two of you sat in the corner of a local cafe, coffee warming up your hands. It was a cool autumn day, causing you to wrap up in a scarf and fluffy coat. This crimson coloured scarf had suddenly appeared in your closet, right when you needed it. It should have been wrong to wear something that had inexplicably appeared in your home, but it was cold, and what else were you to do?

"It's just getting weird. Even the leftovers in my fridge that were about to be mouldy are being thrown away. I see it in my garbage bag. And you know me, I don't even throw it out until it's literally gone blue."

Erin laughed, "You're quite careless. And disgusting." Yes, you were, but that wasn't the point!

"Shush. I'm actually worried here. I'm starting to think.. no.. no one can be breaking into my apartment every night, I'd wake up and hear them. God, I think I'm going mad." You mumbled, hand gripping tightly around the coffee mug. It reminded you of the time you'd left a cold cup of tea on the side, and had fallen asleep. When you woke up an hour later, the cup was hot, as if it had just been warmed up again.

"You've added another lock to your door, you don't even have a spare key for it. It's impossible for someone to break in. And you live on the top floor. Honey, you've been exhausted recently, it's not uncommon for people to get forgetful. You probably did those things while sleepy." Erin reassured you, placing a hand over yours.

You sighed deeply, downing the last drops of drink you had left, Erin doing the same. "Yeah, you're probably right. It's just.. strange."

—

As you entered your apartment late at night, instead of throwing your keys carelessly on a table, you decided to tuck them in the nightstand by your bed. Just to be safe, even if it was just for your own peace of mind. You jumped into the shower, cracking open the window so the steam could be let out. You lived on the top floor of your block, no one could look in, which was always a good thing because your bathroom got very steamy, recently the ceiling paper even curling at the side from the condensation. Making a mental note to look up the prices for someone to redecorate.

You really needed a shower today, you and Erin had gotten a little.. excited earlier, and it always made you cringe not showering before bed after an evening of sex. Under the warm water, you hummed a song you'd had stuck in your head all day. It was a song you didn't even recognise, in fact you weren't even sure you'd heard it before. All you knew was that it was in a different language, and it was comforting.

Once clean, you felt overwhelmingly tired, it had been a long day, so you decided to go straight to bed after having your usual cup of camomile tea, with two spoons of sugar. Then you got into bed. Before you could doze off though, you decided to read for a bit, opening up your latest novel of your favourite author. It can't have been too exciting though, because you fell asleep before the first chapter was over.

When dawn broke, the early sun breaking through cracks in your window, you stirred, blinking a few times. Something felt strange, like every morning for the past few months. You felt a stickiness between your thighs, and your pyjama bottoms were definitely not the ones you fell asleep in. You stared down at the light blue shorts, eyebrows furrowed. Were you a sleepwalker? No, your past roommates would have told you. Maybe you'd had a really good dream and just forgotten it? Fuck, this was weird.

Deciding there was nothing you could really do about the situation, you got up, opting to take another shower to get rid of the icky feeling.

It was when you were munching on your chocolate flavoured cereal that you heard your phone ping. Automatically, you put your spoon down, picking up the device you so heavily relied upon. It was a text from an unknown number, causing you to frown. Opening it, you saw there was a picture attached to the text. And when you examined it, your blood ran cold.

It was a picture of you, naked in bed. Your body spread out, intimate area completely exposed.

"What the fuck?" You whispered, reading what had come with it.

Unknown number: Three orgasms in one night, that's your record so far.

You didn't know what to think— someone had.. touched you while you were asleep? They broke in and did this to you? You shivered in fear, your shaky hands typing out a response before you could even think about what the police would say if you went to them; to not engage with a dangerous person.

You: Who the fuck is this?

There was no reply. Not when you left for work, not when you arrived home in the evening.

You were rigid with fear. A sensible person would have called the police, or at least called someone like Erin, asked to stay over, but you just couldn't. Every time you were about to dial a number, something inside you made you stop. You couldn't explain it.

So here you were, sat bolt upright on your couch. It was around eleven, and your eyes were growing heavy. Your camomile tea mug now empty, you blinked a few times, just aching to lay down and rest. No, you had to stay up! You had to see who had been breaking into your home. But.. you were so tired, a sudden wave of exhaustion washing over you. Your eyes closed slowly, slumping down and falling into a deep sleep.

—

The next morning the first thing you did was check your phone, seeing if the stranger had replied, and they had. Two images attached to a message. And what you saw horrified you. The first picture, one of you in bed, with a.. strap-on, buried inside you. It made you feel sick, that someone had done this to you unwillingly. Though the expression on your face, clearly asleep but pleasure in your features. You could even see your own arousal dripping down the toy.

The second image quite literally made you throw up, You ran to the bathroom, heaving into the toilet bowl as the picture burned in your mind. It had been someone laying on a floor, covered in blood, a knife wedged in their chest.

You had to go to the police. There was no choice now. For some reason, you looked back at the picture, and your mouth dropped open. That someone was a familiar.

It was Erin.

You just knew, it was her jacket, her brown eyes wide open in fear, her blue dyed hair drenched in her own blood. It caused you to throw up again.

—

"I—I think my best friend has been murdered."

You whispered in a shaky voice to a police officer who had sat you down in a cold grey room. After seeing what you'd been sent, not even reading the message that had come with it, you rushed down to the local police station, practically screaming for someone to talk to.

"Why do you suspect this?" He asked in a gruff voice. He didn't seem to be all that serious about the situation, upsetting you even further.

"I've got pictures! And texts!" Your fingers fumbled around your pocket to retrieve your phone, opening your messages app.

It wasn't there.

"So?" The officer prompted, clearly unimpressed.

"It was.. it was right here.." You mumbled, opening every contact you had in case it had magically gotten messed up.

But no, the messages had vanished.

"Look, lady, I think you should go home and get some rest. You look tired. Our minds make things up when we're lacking sleep."

"But—"

"Listen, if something happens, come back in. But for now, you're making empty claims."

Hanging your head down dejectedly, you fought back tears. You knew Erin was dead. You just knew it.

—

Tonight you weren't going to fall asleep. Just to make sure, you downed two mugs of strong coffee instead of your tea. You hated it, but you couldn't risk falling asleep. The intruder— the murderer, was going to break in, you were sure.

The time ticked on. Eleven o'clock, twelve o'clock, one o'clock..

Until your phone buzzed. Dread washed over you. There was no one else who would be making your phone light up at this time of night.

Unknown number: How am I meant to enjoy you when you don't have your tea? You look so pretty when you sleep.

This confused you. Why would they be concerned about what beverage you were drinking? You typed out a response quickly.

You: I'm not scared of you.

It was a stupid thing to say, you knew that really. But the only thing you could think of was to pretend you weren't scared. Maybe that would make them bored and leave you alone. All you could think about what Erin's lifeless body. The blood, god.. all that blood..

Unknown number: See you soon, sweetheart.

Your eyes widened in horror; what the fuck did that mean? This person was on their way? Sickness rose up in your throat, and you ran to your kitchen, grabbing the first sharp object you could find— a medium sized kitchen knife. You clutched it to your chest, running to your bedroom, locking the door and panting heavily. You considered pushing some furniture against the door, but you knew you needed to call the police. Then you realised you'd left your phone in the kitchen.

Fuck! Fuck!

You had put yourself in the worst position possible. But before you could panic over that, you felt a gust of cold air. You frowned, turning around to see the window wide open. You definitely hadn't left it like that before, but it was also impossible for anyone else to have opened it. You lived on the top floor for Christ's sake!

Not knowing what to do first; close the window, get your phone, block the door, or just curl up in a ball and hope it would all just go away. You opted for grabbing your phone. If you could call the police, they'd be on their way, hopefully before your stalker could arrive.

Cautiously unlocking the bedroom door, you stepped out into the hallway. The lights that had previously been on, were off, leaving the whole apartment pitch black apart from the moon shining through the windows and the bedroom light.

Your steps were slow, ears straining to hear anything, but there was silence. The only sound heard was the hammering of your heart in your chest.

Until the silence was broken.

"Seeing you awake is strange. But exciting nonetheless."

The voice came from right behind you. Spinning around in horror, you finally came face to face with the person who had been tormenting you.

"Tormenting? That's a bit harsh, sweetheart."

The woman was dressed in all black, a hood covering most of her face. Light from the bedroom accentuated her figure, but more importantly, the silhouette of a knife and a cloth in her hands.

"W—who are you?" It was an attempt at a shout, maybe to attract the attention of the apartment below you, but your voice could barely manage a squeak.

"I've told you before, baby. You're a forgetful thing when you're asleep, mhm?" She stepped forward, causing you to take a step back.

"You've been taking advantage of me! You've been breaking into my home! You killed.. Erin!" You whispered, backing up against the wall. You had no where to go. You were most likely to die, just like Erin.

"Sweet girl, I'm not going to kill you. I could never hurt you." The woman's voice was almost softer as she approached you, only two feet away now. Was she reading your mind?

"But you killed my friend." The images of Erin's body filled your mind, and how you were going to end up just like her.

"Your 'friend'? Please, she was begging for her own life, not for you to be safe." She let out a cold laugh. "It was so satisfying, the sound of my blade tearing through her flesh and tissue." It almost sounded like she'd gotten pleasure from it

Finally, you got some sense and energy into you as she expressed her fucked up feelings. You let out a shattering scream, "HELP! HELP!"

The woman sighed in disappointment. It took her less than a second to raise the cloth up to your face, covering your nose and mouth. The smell of chemicals was overwhelming. You fought against it, until you couldn't anymore. Body falling limp to the ground.

—

The noise that woke you up was the sound of a squeaking. Your eyes wouldn't open, wondering what was going on. You then felt something inside you, a pressure building up in your lower stomach. What—

Finally, your vision became clearer. You blinked a few times, looking around you. The scene became pretty clear.

The woman was in between your legs, a strap-on buried inside you, just like that photo. The squeaking was the bed as she thrusted into you.

You should have screamed, but the pressure in your abdomen was too intense. You let out a whine, trying to move your tired body, but it was useless. You didn't even want to stop it, it felt too.. good.

"You're awake." She stated, a slight pant in her voice. Her hood was down now, revealing her auburn wavy hair, pale skin and deep green eyes.

"Let me.." You trailed off, because you didn't know whether to say 'go' or 'come'.

She let out a chuckle, holding your hips firmly as she thrusted into you. The feeling was delicious. Something about the fact your body was sleepy, heavy, while being fucked by a woman so dangerous..

No! Why are you thinking like this? It almost felt like your thoughts weren't yours anymore. Were you going insane?

The woman grunted, wet noises filling the room, making it very apparent that your body did not hate this at all. "You can come for me, it'll be your third."

Your third? You couldn't even bring yourself to ask about it, your body just trembled, a pending orgasm taking over, making you whimper in delight.

"Fuck!"

Tears filled your eyes from the sheer pleasure, and the fact that you should have hated this. You were filled with so much shame and guilt. This was the person who had killed your best friend, who'd stripped you of your dignity.

"Shh, darling, you don't have to feel guilty. You're allowed to feel pleasure. And your friend, well, she was just in the way."

Her twisted words made you feel sick again, but you didn't have time to dwell on that because the woman's hand suddenly reached down and started to circle your clit while simultaneously thrusting into you. A loud groan escaped your throat, eyes practically rolling to the back of your head.

"You're going to beat your record, four times will be an achievement." Her accented voice was hot and heavy, turning you on even more.

"I— mhm!" You tried to speak, but you didn't know what to say.

"Let go, detka, show me how good I make you feel." She gripped your waist with her spare hand, red manicured nails digging into your skin.

Without warning, you came hard, spilling all over the strap. The woman moaned, slowing down her thrusts and eventually pulling out, leaving you unbearably empty. She slipped the strap off and went to straddle you, leaning her head down to kiss your neck. You felt utter bliss, forgetting how incredibly fucked up and sick this was.

"Seeing as this is the first time we've met while you've been conscious, I'll introduce myself. I'm Wanda." She giggled, as if nothing had just happened, and had been happening for months. Your head spun, recognising that name somehow, as if it had been spoken in your dreams.

"Relax now, sweet thing. I'll be here when you wake up." Wanda said softly, lying beside you, wrapping the duvet around your naked body. Her arm laid loosely across your stomach, hearing her breathing slow down to something calmer than before.

You didn't say anything, too busy feeling a wave of satisfaction, as awful as that sounded. It was like your mind was used to this, and that it was something you'd always wanted.

The last thing you remembered was a soft lullaby, in a language you didn't recognise. You'd heard it before, in your dreams. And it brought you great comfort.

——

Tags: @rezwrites @hatdog96 @ion-news @esposadejoyhuerta @moimmmm @grimlygoblin @lizziesflower @yandereloverb312 @beggingonmykneesforher

——

[baby-tini]

Bully Dabi🥵 he messes with you your whole life ever since you moved in the neighborhood. He makes sure you don't have any meaningful connections with friends from school so no one bothers you. It wasn't till University that it got kicked up a notch. He wasn't shoving into you or saying mean things anymore it was more sexual now. He grabs you around the corner of a classroom and makes you grind on him. While doing that he says the nastiest things in your ear. 'You always wanted this' 'wanted to ruin you for so long' 'wait till you see my cock you'll drool over it like the little cock slut you are' 'my cock slut' 'can't wait to see this tummy buldge from my cock'

TW- NONCON, victim blaming, sexual assault, bullying, verbal and physical abuse You had moved into the neighborhood when you were about eight years old, your dad had gotten a new job that payed way better then his old one. Being an only child, you never really had people to play with so, when your dad told you that there was a family across the street with kids your age, you were ecstatic. The kids were really nice to you, well, except the oldest, Touya or as all his friends called him, Dabi. He was always so mean to you. Tripping you, pulling your hair, spilling juice on your pretty clothes, you never liked Touya, he never gave you a reason too. So, you did your best to avoid him, you only came over to play with Fuyumi anyway, so, you would just be in her room playing dolls and having fun, until you had to go home. Now the bullying wasn't too bad as kids, it was more like an inconvenience for you. But in high school? That's when it started to get worse, the tripping turned into Dabi- as he now forced you to call him- pushing you into lockers and laughing when he sees the bruises on your shoulders and thighs. The hair pulling turned into him yanking you up by your hair as he called you mean names. You wanted to tell someone, you truly did but all the girls loved Dabi, that was apparent when he had a new one hanging off him everyday. Plus you didn't want your parents to move you to a different school, you had a lot of friends here. You especially didn't want to tell Fuyumi, knowing she'd tell everyone, it would be in good faith coming from her but, she really couldn't keep a secret to save her life.

Dabi being older then you by a couple years means he graduated and went to college first, giving you two years of peace, you didn't have to look over your shoulder or wear jackets all the time in order to cover the bruises he inflicted. You could have fun and joke around with friends without him staring you down from across the hall. It was the best two years of school you've had in your life, plus, Dabi moved into a dorm on campus with his friends Keigo and Tomura. So, you rarely saw Dabi around the neighborhood, except when he came home occasionally on weekends. But even then, you'd rather five- rarely seven- days of peace then none at all. It also meant you could talk to guys without Dabi threatening them or in most cases, beating them black and blue. It's the worst in college though, the years of peace in high school gone all too quickly as you start uni. Although, you don't have any classes with Dabi, so you rarely see him. After classes is a different story though, he's trailing after you, holding you hostage in empty classroom and calling you mean names as his bullying gets bolder.. more.. sexual. He's pinning you against the wall now, leaving hickeys and bruises on your neck, shoving his tongue in your mouth and probably the worst is when he pushes you on top of the desk to spread your legs and hump your cunt over your clothes. Then there was the time that Dabi had dragged you you into an empty classroom, calling you a slut because your skirt was too short for his liking as he laid you on the empty teacher desk and proceeded to pull your skirt up and take his cock out. He had you lay there as he rubbed the head of his dick over your clit, through your panties, making you beg for him to play with your pussy. "Feels good, doesn't it slut?" Forcing you to wrap your legs around his waist, he grinds into your cunt. Slapping your hands away when you try to hide your face and laughing when you start to cry. Pumping his cock a couple times, he runs it over your panties, making sure his tip catches your clit. Trying to look away from him doesn't work 'cause he'll just pull your upper body off the desk and make you watch him fuck your clit, his slit leaking beads of pre-cum, wetting the sensitive nub, his piercing catching on it so nicely. He'll switch from that, to pulling your underwear to the side so that he can slap at the little bundle of nerves and rolling it with his pointer and thumb.

"I don't know why you're covering your face, you were asking for it, wearing all the slutty clothes that you do." Dabi says the meanest things when he has you like this, he's never been soft while he touches you. Always bending you over the railing in the stairwell so that he can lift your skirt to rub your pussy with two fingers then he'll pull your thong tightly against your pussy, so that your lips peak out and he can grind against you. Or when you're leaving the building he'll pull you with him behind the school so that he can give 'daily hole checks,' as he calls them. He says he does them to make sure you're not whoring yourself out, seeing how tight you are by making you suck on his fingers so he can push them inside you. "Bend over bitch, I won't ask again, gotta make sure this pussy is just how I left it." If you're too slow doing as he asks, he'll push against the wall and pulling your ass towards him. From there, he'll pull your panties down, letting them drop to your ankles as he spreads your pussy open and literally stares at your pussy for minutes, pulling lips apart and pushing tip of his thumb inside, spitting on your clit and using his palm to spread it all over your cunt, getting spit on your thighs as he does so. If he deems that your pussy isn't how he left, whether his cum is no longer in you or you feel "looser" then he'll punish you. He makes you hold up your skirt from behind with your face squished against the dirty brick wall as he slaps your ass, hitting you so hard your eyes burn from the salty tears running down your cheeks. Telling you mean things as he carries out his brutal assault on your ass. "Don't start crying now bitch, if you weren't such a slut, I wouldn't have to hit you." or, "Did you really wipe my cum out of you? You ungrateful little whore." and, "Move away from me again and see what happens, I'll hit a lot fucking harder, try me." and of course, "You really think anyone'll believe you? Those bitches you hang out with would kill to be in your position, would beg to have my cock stretching them so full it bulges from their fucking stomach.

[pathologicalreid]

heyyy!!! I just wanted to say I really love your work and this is my first time sending a request so sorry if it’s not very specific 😭💕

If you’re still doing requests, I was wondering if you could do a fem reader x Spencer Reid where it’s similar to your cryptic pregnancy one, except Spencer is at home with her when she’s in labour without realising, and she’s just in a lot of pain and it all of a sudden gets worse and she’s just in the bathroom shouting for Spencer, he comes in and eventually works out what’s going on, readers sort of in denial? Maybe the ambulance doesn’t get there in time so Spencer has to help her give birth? Lots of fluff and hurt/comfort :)

Also completely fine if your not comfortable doing it, but again really love your work and hope you have a great day 💕 :)

three's a family | S.R.

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff content warnings: cryptic pregnancy, traumatic birth, precipitous labor, hospitals, medical inaccuracy (its just me and google against the world), takes place after 9x7 "gatekeeper", surgery, near death experiences, periods, home birth word count: 3.16k a/n: anon i'll be so honest with u i wasn't sure if i was gonna write this but then i learned what precipitous labor was and i was like "i would not wish this on my worst enemy... i'm going to force it on y/n" BUT please keep in mind that there is a .000012 probability of this happening to you (i did the math) this is the wildest thing ive written to date i think

“I’m going to try a bath,” you murmured over to Spencer, wincing as you dragged yourself out of bed, walking at a turtle’s pace to the bathroom, hoping the warm water would soothe the cramps away.

Your period came and went as it pleased; it was just your luck that it decided to give you debilitating cramps on your one day off. Padding on the tile floor behind you, Spencer leaned against the doorframe to the bathroom, “I could run to the store and get a new heating pad.”

Sticking your hand under the tap to check the temperature, you plugged the drain once you found it to be satisfactory. You shook your head, “No, it’s fine.” Your original heating pad must’ve gotten lost somewhere in the depths of your storage closet, but you didn’t have the patience to look for it. You could manage just fine without it.

“Will you let me know if you need anything?” He asked, leaning forward to press a comforting kiss to your forehead.

Nodding, you hooked your thumbs in the waistband of your pajama pants and pulled them down, watching as Spencer pointedly flicked the bathroom fan on – something you often forgot to do.

You lasted about thirty minutes in the bath, not only was the water beginning to grow lukewarm, but if anything, your cramps were getting worse while submerged in the water. Grunting, you reached over and tugged the plug from the drain, watching as the water drained, you managed to pull yourself to a squat before you felt stuck.

Aunt Flo really had it out for you this month.

Burying your face in your hands you accepted defeat and called out for Spencer, reaching up and trying to stand again, but only succeeding in knocking over several shampoo bottles. “Spence!” You tried again, white-knuckling the edge of the bathtub as you bowed your head. A creeping feeling that this wasn’t your period was beginning to rise.

You listened as your husband made his way up the stairs, turning the corner into your room, and opening the door to the ensuite. Moving quickly, Spencer dropped to a crouch in front of you, cupping your pained face in his hands, “I don’t think this is your period, angel.”

Clamping your lips together to prevent yourself from crying out, you simply nodded in response. How awful was it that you were going to die, naked, in your bathtub?

Spencer wiped tears away from under your eyes – you hadn’t even realized you started crying. “What does it feel like, darling? What else could it be?” He asked, voice urgent but gentle as he tried to stop you from panicking.

As you shook your head, you couldn’t focus on anything else besides your breathing as another pain rose up through you. “It’s like a cramp, but with more pressure,” you said, depending on the bathtub and Spencer to keep you upright as your legs shook beneath you. “Like something’s pushing on me, kind of like I have to shit.”

Reaching behind him, Spencer dug through one of the drawers in the bathroom vanity before retrieving the handheld mirror that you used when you cut his hair. Before you could ask what he was doing, he placed the mirror at the bottom of the tub, just beneath you. “I think you’re in labor,” he announced, breaking the news to you.

“There’s no– fuck,” your voice broke off as you dropped your head onto Spencer’s shoulder, breathing through what was apparently a contraction. “I’m not pregnant,” you insisted as your symptoms started to make sense. You had been in labor all morning.

Nodding to himself, Spencer quickly kissed your cheek before standing up and making sure you were stable before stepping to the side.

You frowned as you looked up at him, “Where are you going?”

He didn’t go far, opening the linen closet and piling towels into his arms, “I’m getting towels to put in the tub beneath you, and then I’m going to call an ambulance.”

“You want me to give birth in our bathtub?” You asked, furrowing your brows quizzically before letting out a low whine as another contraction hit.

Stopping what he was doing, Spencer dropped down to you, running the flat of his palm up and down your back as he gently reminded you to breathe. “Did you want to change positions?”

Immediately, you shook your head. You already had an insurmountable task ahead of you and you saw no reason to add to that task by trying to move. “This is fine. Squatting is good, right?”

Nodding assuredly, Spencer smoothed your hair away from your face, “Gravity can help the baby descend the birth canal, and some people even say that the position can increase the pelvic diameter.”

While you were currently less concerned with the diameter of your pelvis and more concerned with feeling like your body was being split open, you continued going through the motions as he called for an ambulance, trying to explain the situation to the dispatcher.

“Have you been timing your contractions?” Spencer asked, tilting his head at you curiously as the dispatcher spoke on the phone.

Releasing a groan, you gripped the ledge of the tub, “I didn’t know they were contractions!”

Relaying that information over the phone, Spencer dropped to his knees in front of you, “Okay, I’ll do it. I’ll take care of it.” He continued to reassure you, taking one look at your desperate expression before ending the call with the dispatcher.

He understood that you were vulnerable right now, and you didn’t want that broadcasted to a stranger on the phone. If you weren’t so preoccupied with remembering to breathe, you’d be more grateful. After a contraction ebbed away, Spencer stood up.

“I have to go unlock the door for the paramedics,” he told you, keeping a wary eye on you. “I’ll be right back,” he comforted you as he took one last look at you before tearing out of the bathroom.

In record speed, he returned to the bathroom as promised, “It’s bad,” you cried, the pressure on your pelvis becoming insufferable.

Crouching in front of you, Spencer studied your face before he spoke carefully, “I have to check your cervix.”

Despite his carefully chosen words, your lips still parted in shock, “You have to what?”

“I’ll use my hand to measure how dilated you are, and then… we’ll go from there,” he told you, nodding almost imperceptibly. At this point, you weren’t sure who he was trying to reassure – you or him. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes,” you answered instantly, “indefinitely.”

You bit down on your lip as you let Spencer check you, understanding entirely why people choose to get epidurals – this was horribly uncomfortable. “On the next contraction, you need to push, okay?”

For just a moment, your breathing faltered as your scared eyes met his, “Spence, wait,” you pleaded.

Smoothing your hair back, your husband did everything he could to comfort you, “What is it, love?” He asked, his voice soft.

“I’m scared,” you confessed, voice cracking ever so slightly as tears flooded your lash line.

He leaned forward to gently kiss your lips before pulling away to press his forehead to yours, "I've got you. You're going to be fine. You're both going to be fine."

You could see his carotid pounding, and somehow the fact that he was secretly as scared as you was more comforting than the words that came from his mouth. As you pushed, you focused on everything that Spencer was saying instead of the pain. Don’t push for more than eight seconds. Remember to breathe. Your body will know what to do. I love you. I love you. I love you.

By the time Spencer was saying something about the head, your hearing had gone muffled. “You’re doing so well, baby,” you made out his voice and nodded dazedly. “You’re wonderful. I’m so proud of you – just a little more,” he cajoled.

Taking a moment to breathe, your ears and eyes focused as shaky breaths filled your lungs.

“I’m sorry I can’t be more helpful,” he murmured, dropping a kiss on your bare shoulder as he comforted you, continuing to keep you upright.

You shook your head, sniffling as your eyes screwed shut, “You’re perfect. Don’t stop. Keep talking,” you begged, needing something to focus on other than the pain.

“There’s about a point zero four percent chance of you getting pregnant and not finding out until you’re in labor,” he told you, hoping that the information would help you wrap your head around what was happening to you. “One to three in one hundred people have a precipitous labor,” he continued to speak as you pushed, and you wondered what the odds of you squeezing his hand so hard that you did damage were.

Against your better judgment, you looked down to check your progress, “Holy fuck,” you said breathlessly. You weren’t entirely clueless, you knew that once you got past the shoulders the remaining pushes would be easier. You also found yourself grateful that Spencer knew what he was doing – this was, after all, the second baby he had delivered.

You bore down, determined to get the baby out while Spencer untangled your hands, bringing his own down to catch the baby. Out of breath, you panted heavily as you started to feel lightheaded. “Done,” Spencer said quickly, “it’s done. I have him.”

Carefully, Spencer held the baby along the length of his forearm, rubbing the tiny newborn’s back. “Come on, come on, come on,” he muttered under his breath, and it dawned on you that the baby wasn’t crying.

At the realization, your legs finally gave out from beneath you, watching with wide eyes as Spencer tried to clear your son’s lungs. White hot tears streamed down your face as you whispered, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” You took a gasping breath as you silently pleaded for a cry, “I didn’t know,” you sobbed, guilt building a pit in your stomach.

With bleary eyes, you looked on as the baby finally spluttered and let out a wail. “There you go,” Spencer cooed softly, his own voice stiff with emotion as he cradled the baby and handed him off to you.

You were still sobbing as you held the baby to your chest, “I’m so sorry,” you continued to babble, watching as Spencer briefly disappeared into the bedroom before returning with a blanket and wrapping it around the both of you. While holding the baby, your vision started to blur around the edges.

Watching you intently, Spencer cupped your face in his hands, “I love you.”

Nodding, your face crumpled before you responded, “I love you too.”

When the paramedics announced themselves, Spencer called out for them, not wanting to leave your side. The two of you focused your attention on the wriggling baby in your arms.

He was premature – too little to stay with you in the recovery room. The NICU doctor had estimated that he was born at approximately 32 weeks, meaning he’d likely need to spend a few weeks in intensive care. “I want to see him,” you said insistently, looking over as Spencer as he fussed over you.

“You just had abdominal surgery,” Spencer responded simply, as if that was meant to clarify everything for you. He continued fluffing your pillow, which wasn’t entirely productive considering you were lying on the pillow.

As it turned out, you had experienced what was called a precipitous birth, or a rapid birth. It tended to be dangerous, and the fact that you did it in your bathtub only heightened that danger. You reached your arm out for Spencer, “c’mere,” you muttered, trying to get him to stop fretting. “Did you listen to anything that the doctor just said?”

Spencer nodded in understanding, “Lots of rest, no physical exertion, IV medication for now-“

“Did you hear the part where he said I was going to be okay?” You asked, raising your eyebrows at him curiously, you watched as he took your hand in his and sat on the edge of your bed. “I’m going to be fine,” your voice was determined, you had a few small incisions on your abdomen from the surgery to repair a tear in your uterus. “Thank you for looking after me,” you whispered.

Your husband gently smoothed your hair back from your face, “I should’ve noticed it sooner.”

Using all of your strength, you squeezed his hand comfortingly, “You were incredible,” you assured him. “If it weren’t for you, neither of us would’ve made it.”

He shook his head, “Don’t say that.”

Raising your eyebrows, you cocked your head to the side, “It’s true. I couldn’t have done it on my own, I’m so, so thankful for you, my love.” 

You had passed out in the ambulance as a direct result of blood loss, so you were brought to a trauma bay as soon as you made it to the hospital. Once they were in the ER, the baby was taken to the NICU, leaving Spencer with a lot of decisions to make.

When you woke up in the recovery room, the first thing you did was ask about the baby.

Spencer, of course, had been up to see him. The nurses claimed he seemed like a fighter, and Spencer knew the survival odds of a 32-weeker, so he turned his attention to you. Every other option had already failed, so the next option was a laparoscopy. Your husband admitted that while it seemed extreme, the very last choice was a hysterectomy, and he didn’t want to make that decision.

Furrowing your brows, “When can I see the baby?” You asked, not entirely sure how to refer to the infant just yet. It wasn’t until then that you realized you needed to name him at some point – your son.

“Once your blood pressure goes up,” Spencer told you with an authoritative tone. “You lost a lot of blood in the ambulance, but the blood transfusions will bring your blood pressure back up.”

Tilting your head to the side, you glared at your husband, “And is this rule from a doctor with a medical degree or a doctor whose name is on my marriage certificate?”

In response, Spencer shrugged, sitting in the beige armchair at the side of your bed, “That’s a secret I’ll never tell.”

You rolled your eyes dismissively, “Will you go see him?”

He leaned over the edge of your bed, taking your hand in his. “I can, will you be alright on your own?”

Nodding almost imperceptibly, you squeezed his hand affectionately, “I just don’t want him to be alone.” You whispered as tears pricked your eyes, you took your free hand and waved at your face, “god, what’s wrong with me?”

“A sudden drop of estrogen and progesterone immediately following birth causes mood swings. Nothing is wrong with you, your body is acting naturally,” Spencer explained patiently, dropping a gentle kiss on your lips.

You sighed before melting back into your pillows, “At least something about this feels natural,” you responded. Your brain felt like a spinning top, while your body felt like you were being weighed down by an elephant in a commercial for COPD medication.

The fact that the NICU nurse informed you that your son had a ninety-five percent chance of living a completely normal life did nothing to calm your nerves. He’d have to stay in the NICU for a few weeks and you tried to convince yourself that the extra time to prepare for him to come home would be good for you, but the idea of leaving him alone at the hospital – save for a small army of doctors and nurses – put a pit of dread in your chest.

Spencer had the forethought to warn you about the tubes and wires that he was hooked up to, ranging from oxygen to a feeding tube. “He’s been undergoing red light therapy to be treated for jaundice, but you can hold him for a while if you want to,” the nurse told you, leading the both of you through the NICU as Spencer steered your wheelchair through the hospital.

Your breathing hitched when you finally saw him, this tiny stowaway that had been growing inside of you for the last several months, and he was just so little. While you were still in your own room, you had convinced yourself that you’d hold him, but now you weren’t so convinced.

According to the sign in his room, he weighed three pounds and ten ounces and was sixteen inches long. He was sound asleep in an incubator, a small hat on top of his head, “Spence,” you breathed.

Behind you, your husband placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, “I know.”

“Did you want to hold him?” The nurse asked you gently, looking over at one of the machines that he was hooked up to.

Genuinely, you didn’t know. “Is… is that okay?” You asked, wiping your sweaty palms on the blanket draped across your legs.

The nurse gave you a knowing look, “Even better than okay, it’ll be good for him to have that kind of contact from both of his parents.”

Frowning, you watched as it took two nurses to break him out of his acrylic prison before they carefully placed him on your chest, making sure you were okay before they stepped back. Your movements were stiff at first, you had never held a baby this small before, but you eventually remembered to breathe and gently cooed at the baby in your arms.

Spencer crouched down next to you and started to ask the nurse a bunch of questions that he had likely been holding in for hours, but you just kept your eyes on the sleeping baby. He was too small to open his eyes, but everyone assured you that he’d get there.

The nurse stepped out to give you some privacy, leaving the door open just in case you needed something, “This doesn’t seem quite as difficult while I’m holding him.” You knew there was a steep learning curve ahead, but with a newborn on your chest, the pit in your heart dissipated.

“That’s called oxytocin,” Spencer said, sitting in a chair, eyes fixated on the infant in your arms.

Humming, you skimmed the pad of your thumb across your son’s tiny back, “He looks like you,” you observed quietly, they had the same nose.

Your husband smiled softly, “You can’t possibly tell which parent he takes after yet,” he informed you.

“And yet, I know he looks like you,” you insisted softly, and Spencer didn’t push back. “You look like your daddy,” you whispered to the baby, “he was the first one to hold you, you know?” You looked over at Spencer, “he’s been my superhero for four years, and now he gets to be yours too.”

[mixmangosmangoverse]

Coming to the realization that how PreCure fans talk about Futari Wa/Max Heart and treat it compared to the rest of the series is nearly identical to how people treat the first three seasons of SpongeBob

[malereadermaniac]

Bachelors ~ Stardew Guys x Male Farmer Reader

Imagines in a headcannon style (kinda) with the stardew guys: first meets, dates, pinning, SMUT Characters: Alex, Sebastian + Short bonuses of Sam & Harvey! Top!Characters x Bottom!Reader Word count: 4.5k Nsfw / MDNI ~ amab m!reader / FDNI

Meeting Alex for the first time

The two of you met on your first day in the village. You had introduced yourself to his grandparents first, and as you were about to leave his grandma forced him to say 'hi'. Unlike the fairytales, you two were quite indifferent about each other for the first couple of weeks - Alex was his usual self whenever you'd see him, that being rude and arrogant, so you weren't his biggest fan. But since you'd promised to yourself that you'd make friends with every villager, you kept insisting on the brunette; chatting with him almost everyday and giving him gifts from time to time.

Alex didn't really get it, but he did feel weird the first time he met you; his heart beating faster and his words not coming to him. The jock of course brushed this off though, not even entertaining the idea of having some sort of crush on you, a man. On the other hand, you had come to terms with the fact that your want to be friends with Alex was partially driven by an attraction to him. Hey no judgment here! It would be hard for anyone to not get hot and bothered when you see the man shirtless on the daily; flexing his muscles and working out while he chats with you.

Mutual pining

It didn't take long for Alex to start catching feelings for you, but it did take long for him to accept that fact. After a month or so of knowing each other, Alex started to feel more comfortable around you, meaning his tough exterior started to crumble and the real Alex showed himself to you. The fact that Alex felt so comfortable around you made him feel some type of way, he'd never been able to be so raw and real with anyone; family or friend, girl or guy. It took many late night conversations with you, avoiding looking into your eyes too long and hiding his tan face as it turns to a pink hue, for the gridballer to come to terms with the fact that he had not only caught feelings for you, but he also had the MASSIVE hots for you! I mean, anyone with eyes with have the hots for you. You were a farmer, so your body spoke for itself, but your kindheartedness and way with animals made the bachelors of the village swoon for you! And as you and Alex hung out more and more, the brunette would catch himself admiring you a little too much; oh and this got worse as summer came by! The amount of times Alex would pop a boner cause he'd seen you shirtless was ridiculous... He couldn't help it! Your body, your arms, your chest, your belly UGH! Let's just say every inch of you had crossed Alex's mind when he would deal with the hard problems you'd cause him.

Pinning over Alex wasn't exactly easy for you. Up until the very moment the meat-head asked you out, you were convinced he was straight! So your very massive crush on the jock was kept on the low, reserved for late night fantasies and daydreams when you would spend time with him. But it would get harder and harder not to blush around the muscular man, especially since he was comfortable enough around you to just whip off most of his clothes! The amount of damn times you'd gotten hard from seeing Alex's sweaty, tan muscles as he works out; his muscular arms flexing, his six-pack tensing, his thick thighs bulging out of his shorts (and that wasn't the only thing bulging out of his shorts!). In short, more and more time with Alex was expanding your spank bank more and more!

The only reason Alex finally had the guts to ask you out was because of Haley! Hilariously, the both of you would confide in the blonde about your 'unrequited' feelings and worries, without knowing that the other was telling her the exact same thing! Eventually the girl got rightfully fed up, so she just told Alex to shut up midway through a 'woe is me' monologue and told him that you liked him back. The closet lesbian wished she'd recorded how quickly Alex had sprinted out of her room and to your farm! The moment was quite romantic to be fair to Alex, for it being extraordinarily spontaneous. He'd picked up some flowers from the village square (which the mayor later scolded him for) and knocked on your door then and there. Despite it being quite late at night, you opened the door, and was happily surprised to see a panting Alex standing in front of you, with a shabby bouquet of flowers held out to you. And after a very stuttery and hesitant confession, Alex asked you out - to which you didn't respond for a moment, which of course made the Jocks heart drop to his asshole! DID HALEY SET HIM UP???? But after a few moments, you could only respond to his confession with a chaste kiss; which the both of you will never stop thinking about.

Dates together

Dating Alex is extremely heteronormative to be frank. The man had an abusive and probably misogynistic father, of course he'd want to be 'the man' in the relationship despite both of you having dicks! So he's always the one to pay for things, always helping you around the farm in his spare time, and always insisting that he's the one to plan dates so that you don't have to worry. But hey, you can't really complain - he's doing all of the hard work! Alex is always there for you, helping you with anything you need; which is a real turn on, but you can't help but feel bad that he does so much for you. This leads to you trying to help Alex in other ways, which does unfortunately continue the heteronormativity of your relationship. You'll cook for Alex and always have him round for dinner, and you always offer to help him round the house if he ever mentions a job his grandparents have given him - very stereotypical behaviour, but you both don't really mind it.

Dates themselves can be anything with you two, you're both happy just spending time together. If Alex wants to treat you to a fancy date, the two of you will have a late night wine and dine at the saloon followed with a very spicy night at home. But the more regular dates include TV nights at your place or beach days and nights!

Time alone (smut)

Again, Alex's masculinity tends to be on the more fragile side, despite it significantly improving since meeting you, so he continues his manly shtick in the bedroom as well. Not only does that mean that the brunette is strictly a top (which there's no complaints about), but also that he prefers to have a more dominant role when you two get it on. But this isn't a big problem for your relationship, your dynamic already being very binary makes this dynamic easy to adopt. When it comes to what you two like to do, Alex is addicted to doggy style, he just fucking loves giving you backshots; watching your ass jiggle as his hips smack against it, the sound of your skin slapping against his turns the man on so, so much! That is to say, Alex isn't opposed to any other position, sex is sex! As long as he gets to hit it, he doesn't really care that much. His libido really does match his personality, the jock likes to have sex so much that you got a bit worried he had an addiction at one point! But in reality, Alex just fucking loves you so much that he needs to physically express it (we all know that words aren't his strong suit). Genuinely, you could literally smile at your boyfriend and he'll get hard. You two have fucked in coops and stables just because Alex couldn't help himself after watching you be so kind and cute with the animals!

Speaking of location, whilst you two are most comfortable in the bedroom, beach sex does sometimes happen; and you both fucking LOVE it. After an afternoon in the water and chatting in the sun, Alex and you love to stargaze after the sunsets; and laying next to each other in only swim trunks, having no one else around, silence except for each other's breathing and the sound of the sea, of course the romantic atmosphere and the closeness gets you two going! Riding Alex as he lays down on the beach towel, his strong hands on your hips as you bounce up and down on his dick, the moon and stars shining behind you making you look incredible; it's just perfect. And when the tables flip and Alex is the one with the moonlight shining on his muscles and gorgeous face as he drills into you missionary style, you can't help but get so fucking turned on!

Oh and when it comes to any specific kinks? You already know that Alex 100% has a thing for sports gear. Fucking you whilst you're wearing his varsity jacket or his gridball shirt makes the jock feel slightly possessive over you, and that just turns him on even more. Giving you backshots whilst you wear a jockstrap? Alex has never been more hard! And holy shit does the man look hot as fuck in his gridball gear, just sweaty after a little practice, his muscles gleaming as his white jockstrap becomes almost see through, his high-socks accentuating his calves - your boyfriend just looks like a fucking sex god. And just as a little tidbit, Alex has a huge thing for blowjobs. He just loves running his fingers through your hair and looking into your eyes as he gets the best, sloppiest head of his life~

Meeting Sebastian for the first time

It's no surprise that you first encountered this emo on a rainy evening. You had gone out into the mountain on a late night walk, umbrella in hand as you walked the dim path; that was when you saw Sebastian's hooded figure just standing on the cliff, smoking a cigarette. You swiftly introduced yourself to the taller man, checking that he wasn't about to die of hypothermia from the cold and offering to share your umbrella. The encounter wasn't awkward, it was silent, sure, but it was a comfortable silence - the sound of the rain and the soft drags of Sebastian's cigarette made you feel oddly calm. Though few words were spoken, you two got to know each other pretty well, well enough to hang out the following week.

Being friends with Seb was great! He liked his alone time, so you two weren't constantly together, but the times you two hung out were always good. It was just that... there was always this weird, light tension in the air whenever you and the emo were alone. Prolonged eye-contact, lingering touches on his arms and shoulder or on your thighs and hands, and complimenting each other would always result in beat-red faces. You were very aware of the fact that you were crushing on your very handsome friend, so you would jokingly, lightly flirt with Sebastian; you would compliment his piercings (cause YES he 100% has piercings), play with his hair and call him a hunk whenever he revealed his muscles. It was all playful though, it wasn't as if every single one of your actions was making Sebastian spiral more and more about his sexuality!

Mutual pining

Seb didn't take long to come to terms with the fact that he was actually head over heels for you, it was more his sexuality he was struggling with. But outside of his constant internal debates about how to label himself, Sebastian was more than willing to flirt with you and see how it goes. Sometimes, the two of you would smoke together, the taller man never letting you use one of your own straights and giving you one of his own - he'd even changed the brand of cigs he'd buy to the ones you like. He liked asking you to go for a smoke whenever it was windy, to make sure that you cling to him for warmth; and if Seb got lucky, you wouldn't be able to light your cigarette because of the wind, allowing him to swoop in like a saviour and light your cig with the end of his, bringing his face so, so close to yours. So close that he could feel your breath hitch from the proximity, so close that he could look into your eyes with no distractions. Sebastian would become more talkative around you, he still wouldn't chat as much as you did, but the emoboy would show more and more of himself everyday. Oh and as Sebastian became more and more desperate to share his feelings with you, his flirting would get just a little more intense; compliments becoming part of his greeting whenever you two would meet up, touching becoming more common, and a little jealousy showing whenever other guys would get a little too friendly with you. Your part of the flirting was less direct. You would often compliment Seb on his piercings (as already said), touching the cold metal on his face with a smile as you look into the taller man's dark eyes. The two of you would hangout in Sebastian's room a lot, just rotting in bed as you chat or he does work, and you would do your best not to blush at the pair of designer boxers left on his bed or dresser (which Seb defo didn't leave out to push the boundaries).

Dates together

This man asked you out in the most romantic way possible. He made sure that you both had the evening free and said he wanted to take you somewhere. THIS MAN takes you on a ride on his motorcycle, making sure your arms are tight around his waist, your head resting on his back, and he takes you to a small cliff with the most beautiful view of the city. Sebastian then gives you a somewhat long speech about how much he's changed and how much his life has changed since you'd met him, how he's never felt this way for anyone and how he feels so alive when he's around you, how he feels like his heart is on fire whenever he sees you around other guys. And instead of giving a conclusion to his speech, he just puts his strong, veiny hands around your waist and kisses you. Safe to say you were fucking smitten after that.

Ever since then you two have been kinda inseparable, visiting each other for hours at a time, going on dates every week; Sebastian is an incredible boyfriend. To form some sort of tradition, on every anniversary, Seb always takes you on a ride on his bike and brings you back to that cliff where you two made it official; having set up a candle-lit picnic, he's just so cute. Even though you've both limited your smoking, the way you've done so is in itself very romantic. You two are allowed one cigarette a day, one for the two of you, not one each! So whenever it's your turn to have a drag, Sebastian will take a puff and shotgun the smoke into your mouth, his manly hand holding your face close to his, your lips just barely a millimeter apart.

Time alone (smut)

HEY EMO BOY! You just know that dick is huuuuge. Long, white and veiny with a pink tip. Sebastian is uncut and you already know that man has a prince albert! You've teased him about his dick piercing before, but he flips the tables real quick saying how he knows that you love it - and he's not wrong. Holy fuck does his dick just feel so fucking good inside you, and ten times better cause of that fucking piercing! The cold metal rubbing against your walls, the hard material jabbing into your prostate from time to time, making you fucking writhe underneath your boyfriend. Oh and Seb has a sleeper build for sure! All he has to do is take that hoodie off and give a little flex, and his whole body becomes like that of a Grecian statue - just massive arms, wide shoulders, rock hard abs, thick thighs, and massive, pillow-like pecs. It doesn't help that the muscular man's favorite position is missionary, making him seem even more massive and strong looming above you as he fucks the shit out of you. Another hot thing to point out is the obsidian coloured bars going through both of his nipples, contrasting the soft pink of his flesh so nicely - He's just so fucking hot!

Sebastian definitely has the hots for public blowjobs - he's usually not the biggest fan of PDA or even being in public, but damn he just can't help but get so turned on when your sucking his dick in public! Just the thrill of maybe being caught with his dick out and down your throat while on some park bench. He also can't deny that he likes to see the nature around him, the gravel beneath you as you're on your knees in front of him, the trees around and the sound of the water - it turns Seb on but he also just finds it beautiful, he can't help that he's an emo at heart, just so emotional!

But if Sebastian had to admit, he'd say that his ultimate sexual fantasy is just fucking like some gross, incel. Don't get him wrong, Sebastian is like the opposite of an incel! His political views are obviously very liberal! But he just can't deny the fact that the idea of fucking in his room, door locked, just spending the weekend in his room, just fucking, chilling and fucking some more without worrying about work, friends, or even getting up to shower, that shit just really turns him on! He's often fantasied about how you'd look fucked out on his bed, body drenched in sweat and at least 10 full condoms decorating your body and his bed - the idea gets him as hard as a rock! And who knows, maybe Seb has already booked you two a little cabin in the woods for your five year anniversary to do just that...

Bonus: Sam

Meeting Sam is a moment you think about very often. You first ran into him near the mountains, just sitting on a bench and playing his guitar, humming and singing along - and you found that so so attractive. You were thirsting over this man since your first meeting!

You had been pining over Sam since your first meeting, so your view on the friendship which prospered hadn't really changed. You were happy being friends with the guitar player, but you would drop small comments here and there, flirting with the man ever so slightly - which the neither of you really minded. Sam on the other hand, he realised that his feelings for you were anything but platonic and couldn't really hide it; this man couldn't stop blushing whenever you were even mentioned in conversation, let alone when he was actually around you! And let's be so real, his feelings for you were of course very romantic, but also incredibly sexual, so of course Sam was straight up jerking it to fantasies of you on the regular!!

Sam's confession to you was real sweet though, and quite heated as well... He'd asked to meet you at his house one day during winter and immediately invited you into his room when he noticed your pink nose and ears. He was stuttering and blushing as he professed his undying romantic feelings towards you, and his body only increased in temperature ten fold after you responded to his confession with a kiss. Sam couldn't get enough of your soft lips and smooth hands on his face, which turned what was meant to be a short kiss into a full blown make out sesh! The two of you were on Sam's bed for like an hour, just making out and grinding against eachother fully clothed. But before the guitarist could take things any further, Sam's mother interrupted the two of you with a knock on the door. And hilariously, when asked why he looked so flushed and sweaty, Sam simply said he was doing push ups...

Ugh and dating Sam is just so wholesome. Good luck kisses before shows are a must, and its a tradition that the two of you have stuck to; from when Sam was playing small gigs to when the two of you had left the village and moved to the city after Sam's band had skyrocketed in fame. The blonde had even written you a song and played it at one of his bigger shows at the time, dedicating it to you and going on a small rant about how important you are to him and that the band wouldn't exist without you (how fucking cute is that.

Now on the more spicy side of the relationship, when the two of you were still living in the village, Sam would always dirty talk and fantasise about being famous and fucking you like a rockstar; and he stayed true to his word. The both of you are usually very horny after Sam plays a show, what? like you're supposed to watch your boyfriend get all sweaty on a stage as he plays guitar and sings a couple of songs about you and NOT get really fucking turned on??? And whilst not making him sound like a douche, the applause and the thrill of playing for a bunch of people really gets Sam going, so show nights usually end up getting real steamy. You do sometimes get jealous because of Sam's numerous fan girls' behaviour, your mood souring slightly and your clingyness decreasing. Sam always notices though, and he makes sure that you know that you're the only one he has eyes for by rocking your world; starting the night with making you cum just from eating you out and fingering you, and then making you almost immobile after a couple long, pleasurable rounds. You already know that the man is good with his fingers, he's a guitarist for gods sake! Oh and that dick is good too, it's average and perfect that way, he's cut and has one prominent veiny on the underside, and the carpet matches the drapes but Sam makes sure that his bush is nicely trimmed; to ensure that you have no inconveniences when blowing him (which you do a lot).

Bonus: Harvey

You met him briefly on your first day in the village, but officially met and hit it off as friends when you went to him as a patient. A small friendship did bloom, you would hang out with Harvey from time to time, but there was ALWAYS some crazy tension of the sexual variety whenever the two of you were together.

It was kinda obvious that the two of you were pining over each other, but the first move wasn't made until you finally had enough of small compliments and lingering touches. After you had gone to the clinic for some ointment after scratching your arm up on the farm, you and Harvey had a usual moment of sexual tension and silence, his face just a few inches away from yours. You finally had enough and just grabbed the brunettes face and smashed your lips against his. Your fingers gently griping the doctor's brown curls as the two of you held a prolonged, passioante kiss. After said kiss, Harvey was RED in the face, and the end of your appointment was a little awkward. But during your next appointment, Harvey had mentioned that you two shouldn't let that happen again, to which you responded by kissing the man again. Harvey couldn't deny that he wanted to keep kissing you more than ever, but he had to pull you off, grunting out a "(Y/n). NO." in a disgruntled, HOT voice.

Harvey couldn't stop thinking about you though, so the two of you did start dating soon after the whole kiss fiasco. Dates together are really wholesome, the doctor being a true gentleman, so you two regularly go out on dinner dates where Harvey will wear his best dress and wine n dine you; usually giving you some sort of gift and showering you with compliments. Late night cuddles whilst watching something are a must for Harvey, he likes the feeling of his arms around you, it makes him feel as if he's keeping you safe. Oh and dating a doctor has many benefits to it, the second you start to get suspiciously tired or sneeze one too many times, Harvey is putting you on a mandatory bed rest and he's in the kitchen cooking up a soup within seconds.

In the bedroom, Harvey is just as wholesome and romantic as you'd expect him to be. This man loves missionary! He's such a sweetheart, he just wants to make sure you're doing alright and feeling incredible. The brunette loves to have sex with you, he's constantly complimenting you and praising you, making sure you know how good you're making him feel. Lotsss of kissing with this man, Harvey just needs to feel even closer to you even though he's inside of you; and he needs to convey his love for you in a more physical way on top of literally pounding you like mad. You have such a thing for Harvey's moustache, ugh especially while he's muching!! It just feels so funny, the hairs tickling you as the brunette's eating you out like a starved man. And he just looks so cute and hot when you can actually see him eating you out; his moustache pushed up slightly, his glasses getting pushed up his face and crooked from Harvey smushing his face into your cheeks, a thick blush covering his face. He's a little bit of a sub sometimes, likes it when you ride him and take control, Harvey likes to keep his hand on your hips as you gently ride him, letting out breathy moans as you show him just how good his dick is. Oh and he definitely has a thing for roleplaying patient and doctor cause it reminds him of how you two met n started out! "Dr are you sure this is necessary?" "Of course it is, now spread you're legs just a little more for me, let doctor get his probe in deeper"

Hope you guys enjoyed! Back home for chrimbo, might post a little who knows! I do have an essay to do for uni tho... Love ya guys! Laterz!