#it’s literally just a cold but i’m dramatic

[marcyvamp1re-blog]

ৎ୭. . . SORORAL ─── Platonic! Harley Quinn

⊹ ٬  Headcanon. Harley showed up at your door after years, broken by the Joker, and you, with more patience than common sense, took care of her. At the end of the day, no matter the fights or crimes, you were two inseparable souls, always ending up on the couch, reminding each other that sisterly love heals all.

⊹ ٬  Word Count. 2.14k

⊹ ٬  Content. MDNI. Violence, Blood, fights, drugs, toxic relationships, mental health, criminal behavior, past traumas, normalization of the self-destructive component.

「 (Adj.) Like a sister 」

You met Harley in college. The first time you talked was because you shared the same team project… and also a hatred for the same professor. It was all downhill from there. For everyone else, that is. You were at your best.

You were the Watson to her Sherlock, the Robin to her Batman, the salt on the edge of her daisy. Harley talked and you nodded, but not because you were quiet, but because no one had the energy to keep up. You tried to interrupt her once and ended up going on a two-hour monologue about why bats are adorable, all without taking a breath.

You were there for everything. Her first cry over a boyfriend who wasn’t worth it (and whose social media you hacked with brotherly love). Her yelling in the cafeteria about how her parents were the worst dynamic duo ever. Her fights with other students, where you just picked up her stuff and said, “You’re still alive, right? So let’s go.”

You were inseparable. You were her rock and she was your... earthquake. An explosive friendship, literally at one point. But then he came along. The guy with the green hair.

You heard about it on the news. "The Clown Prince of Crime Has a New Partner." At first you didn't believe it. Harley wasn't that kind of girl. But when you saw her picture with her makeup smeared and that crooked smile, you knew. Your Harley was there, buried under tons of chaos.

That day, at the medical center where you worked, you broke a cup. Not because you were being dramatic, but because it was the only way to make the pain feel real.

And then you understood: Harley wasn't anyone's Watson. She was always her own Sherlock, and now she was solving a case that was tearing her apart.

The reunion was a coincidence. Well, coincidence for her. You were leaving work, a long and boring shift, when the sound of a loud laugh made your blood run cold. You saw her leaning against your car, wearing a red leather jacket, torn tights, and a baseball bat that she was spinning between her fingers as if she was deciding whether to use it on you or not.

“Friend!” she shouted, as if it hadn’t been years since you last spoke and as if she wasn’t on the country’s most wanted list.

You didn’t know what to say. Harley threw herself at you before you could react, the smell of gunpowder and something sweet permeating the air. It was as if nothing had changed… but everything had changed.

You tried to pretend it was like before. You chatted for a while, forcing a smile while she talked non-stop, as always. She told you how she had “deconstructed” a bank last week, how Joker had said something “so romantic” that she almost cried, and how Commissioner Gordon “needed to relax, because, hey, a little dynamite never killed anyone… well, not many people.”

The Harley you knew was still there, but she was buried under layers of insane laughter and chaos. Her world was no longer yours.

“Why so quiet?” she asked at last, tilting her head like a curious child.

“Harls… I can’t do this.”

The silence that followed was strange. She looked at you as if you had spoken in another language.

“Oh… that’s why, isn’t it? …Because I’m a “criminal” now.”

You didn’t answer. You didn’t have to.

She smiled, but not in the way you remembered. This smile was broken, crooked, as if she was trying to convince herself that she didn’t care.

—It’s okay, you know. I don’t need everyone to understand me. I have Mr. J. And he understands me better than anyone.

That hurt more than you wanted to admit. But not more than watching her turn around, the bat resting on her shoulder as she walked away, humming a song you didn’t recognize.

Harley didn’t look back again. Not because she didn’t care about you, but because she didn’t have room in her mind for you anymore. She had filled every corner with it, and you knew there was no way to compete with that.

And you, as much as it hurt, didn’t look back either.

Years had passed. A monotonous routine was your life. The medical center, the long hours, the patients who needed an ear more than a prescription. It didn't bother you, not at all. Listening was something you were always good at, and the idea of ​​a partner seemed far away. Between double shifts and sleepless nights, where was there room for romance?

It was a night like any other. Your apartment was silent, except for the sound of the rain hitting the window. You had left a forgotten tea on the table and were about to pick it up when you heard a knock on the door. Not a polite knock, but something desperate, insistent.

When you opened it, you saw her. Soaked, shaking, her makeup running from tears mixed with the rain. Harley. Your Harley.

"He left me," was the first thing she said, her voice broken and trembling.

You didn't know what to do at first. It was like time had gone backwards, but this time you weren’t in college and it wasn’t a fight with some campus jerk. Everything was darker now, more broken. Without saying anything, you let her in.

She plopped down on your couch, clutching a pillow like it was a lifeline. Between sobs and curses, she ranted about Joker. How he’d used her, how he’d betrayed her, how this time it was final.

“I don’t know why I’m here,” she suddenly muttered, looking at you with swollen eyes. “It’s stupid, isn’t it? After everything that happened between us…”

You stayed silent for a moment. You knew she was right. Harley had disappeared from your life without looking back, but now she was there, broken, seeking comfort from the only person who ever truly understood her.

“I didn’t think of anyone else,” she whispered, hugging the pillow tighter. “Because… because you’re my sister, you know?” The one person who was always there, even...when I didn't deserve it.

That was enough to make something inside you melt. You sat next to her, gave her a blanket, and let her talk. Because that was your specialty: listening.

Harley talked until she was speechless. Until her voice faded away and only the sound of the rain remained. You offered no advice or judgment, just your presence. Because you knew that, as much as it hurt, she needed you now more than ever. And, even though time had separated you, there was one thing that had never changed: she was still your Harley. And you, as strange as it seemed, were still her sister.

Harley didn't leave after that night. At first, it was like having a permanent storm in the apartment. One day she'd come home drunk, staggering around and singing off-key songs about what was (or wasn't) worth it in life. Another day she'd show up with a black eye and a cut eyebrow, muttering under her breath that "being the clown's ex isn't exactly a queen's title."

You couldn't say you were surprised. Harley was always a controlled mess… until she wasn't. What you didn't expect was how much that mess would absorb you. You became her nurse, her therapist, her babysitter, and, on the worst days, her bodyguard.

"Why do you put up with me?" she asked you one night, half drunk, with an ice pack in her hand and a split lip that you'd cleaned yourself.

"I don't know, Harls. Maybe because I'm dumb. But someone has to take care of you."

She laughed, that cracked laugh that always made something inside you clench.

You couldn't help but be upset. Because, come on, Harley had gotten herself into this mess. She'd decided to dive headfirst into a world of chaos and crime, knowing full well there was no net to catch her. But it wasn't hate you felt, or even resentment. It was frustration. Harley had always been a big girl, someone who saw the world as an amusement park, ignoring the warnings to "stay off the grass" and "be careful, wet floor."

Sometimes you wanted to yell at her. You wanted her to understand that you couldn't rebuild her every time the world broke her into pieces. But then you remembered who she was. Harley had never needed someone to yell at her. What she needed was someone to show her the mirror, to remind her that beneath all that paint and mess she was still her.

So you took care of her. You cleaned her wounds, you put up with her cries and her unhinged laughter. Because even though it wasn't fair, you knew Harley was learning. Maybe not fast, and maybe in the worst way, but at least she was learning. And if that meant being her anchor in the middle of the storm, then you were willing to hold on a little longer.

One day, everything changed. It wasn’t a dramatic moment, or a revelatory speech. It just happened. You woke up one morning to find Harley in the kitchen, her hair in two uneven pigtails, humming a song as she made pancakes that smelled like they were burning.

“Morning, Doc!” she greeted you like they were in a 1950s sitcom.

It took you a few minutes to realize what was different: she was smiling. Not the broken, I’m-going-to-do-something-illegal-in-less-than-five-minutes smile, but a genuine smile. Harley was Harley again.

Sure, she was still a criminal. She wasn’t going to change overnight, and you didn’t expect her to, either. But now she was a criminal with… what did she call it?

“Scruples!” she said, holding up a half-charred pancake like it was a trophy. “No more punching the bird boy in the face. No more blowing up police stations!” Well, maybe one, but only if it's empty.

You found it hard to believe, but you saw it. Harley was different. She was still chaos, but a contained one. And even though she didn't tell you, you knew some of that change had to do with you.

Then the invitations came.

"Come on, doc! You need to get out of this hole," she'd say, tugging on your arm with the same energy as a tornado. "I'm going to introduce you to the girls."

"Ivy" and "Selina" turned out to be Ivy the Poison Ivy and Selina Kyle, Gotham's famous thief. You spent a surreal night in their company, sitting in a speakeasy where laughter was more dangerous than guns. Selina taught you how to pick a lock with a paper clip, Ivy talked to you about the importance of caring for plants, and Harley was still acting like you were the guest star on her own variety show.

But the height of absurdity came when Harley showed up one Friday night and announced,

“Black Canary is coming to party with us! You know how many people can say that? Nobody, because we’re exclusive.”

The night was legendary. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d laughed so hard or danced with such little sense of the ridiculous. Between Harley trying to do karaoke in a bar where no one had asked for karaoke and Dinah watching her next to you in amusement, you almost forgot that you were with a group of women capable of knocking down a building if they put their minds to it.

Harley looked at you at the end of the night, with a knowing smile.

“See? I told you you were one of us, doc. You can’t escape.”

And deep down, you knew she was right. Harley was still Harley: chaotic, unpredictable, impossible to ignore. But now, she was also someone who was trying to be better, in her own way. And you, without realizing it, had gone from being his anchor to being part of his storm... and it wasn't so bad.

The invitations never stopped. Harley was determined to drag you into every corner of her new life, and she wouldn’t take no for an answer. It was like she was making up for the years she’d missed with you.

Roller Derby was one of the first things she forced you to witness.

“Doc, you have to come. I’m a legend on wheels!” she told you one day as she pulled out a t-shirt with her number printed on the back.

And she wasn’t lying. Harley was a storm on the track, charging at her opponents with a mix of skill and sheer madness. From the stands, you found yourself yelling things like “Don’t break that poor girl’s jaw!” and “That’s got to be a foul, Harley!” But she only responded with laughter, making a victory gesture as a rival player tried to regain her dignity after falling on her back.

“What did you think?” she asked you at the end, with a swollen eye and a half-dented helmet.

“I’ll tell you when my nerves are back on track.”

Burrito mornings became a tradition.

One day she showed up at your door at six in the morning, a greasy bag in one hand and two coffees in the other.

“Burritos and eggs, doc! The best hangovers are cured with food for champions.”

That became a recurring thing. Every week, Harley would wake you up early with the excuse that burritos “taste better at dawn.” You never had the heart to turn her down, though sometimes you silently cursed her when the caffeine wasn’t enough to keep you functional.

Other times, she’d take you on her “normal adventures.”

Like the time she decided you both needed a “spa day.” Her definition of a spa included going to a speakeasy with Ivy and Selina, playing poker with handmade cards, and ending up with nails painted impossible colors.

“Are you relaxing or not?” —Harley asked you while trying to dry your hair with a hairdryer she had clearly stolen from some hotel.

—I don’t know if “relaxed” is the right word…

And then there was her obsession with movies.

One random Tuesday, she burst into your living room with a stack of DVDs.

—Bad movie marathon. Time to educate yourself, doc!

You spent the night watching B-movies while Harley laughed more at your sarcastic comments than at the absurd dialogues in the movies.

—You’re a terrible critic, but I love you anyway —she said while throwing popcorn in your face.

But, of course, Harley wouldn’t be Harley without her chaotic touches.

One day she took you to a costume store because they “needed outfits for friends.” You came out dressed as a pirate clown, while she wore a unicorn costume. They passed through an ice cream shop, a park, and of course, a karaoke bar where she forced the entire bar to sing along to "I Will Survive."

It was exhausting, unpredictable, and honestly, the best few weeks you'd had in years. Because even though Harley was still a whirlwind of madness, there was something different about her. She was more herself. A criminal with a heart, a loyal friend, and someone who, after all this time, finally seemed happy.

And you, even though you never would have imagined it, were happy too.

Always, no matter how chaotic or exhausting the day had been, it all ended the same: the two of you lying on the couch in your apartment, too tired to continue talking but too comfortable to move.

Harley always took the larger end, curled up in a blanket she had declared hers. You settled on the other end, legs dangling because Harley managed to take up more space than she physically could.

At first you tried to watch something on TV, but Harley always ended up changing the channel every five minutes, claiming that “everything is boring.” So, in the end, you just stayed silent, enjoying each other’s company.

That night was no different. Harley was half asleep, her head resting on the arm of the couch and her eyes half-closed. She looked at you, somewhat sleepy, but with that mischievous spark that never seemed to completely go out.

“You know something, doc?” she murmured, her voice barely audible.

“What’s wrong, Harls?”

She paused, as if she was gathering the courage to say it, even though you knew Harley rarely had filters.

“I love you.”

Your heart skipped a beat. It wasn’t the first time Harley had said it, but this time it sounded different. Softer. More sincere.

“I love you too, Harls.”

She smiled, small and genuine, and closed her eyes.

“In the end, we are sisters, aren’t we? We always were. Even if we don’t have the same last name.”

“We always were,” you confirmed, settling into the couch, letting the calm of that moment envelop you.

And so they stayed, Harley breathing calmly beside you, and you wondering how something so chaotic had ended up being the most stable and comforting thing in your life. Because in the end, no matter what happened outside, how much trouble they got into, or how many egg burritos they shared, you would always be her sister, and Harley would always be your Harley.

[oscinhaslandito]

Just Me, Her and the Moon

pairing: lando norris x reader

The evening had settled into a comfortable rhythm. After a laid-back dinner of their favorite takeout, Lando and Y/N found themselves sprawled across their bed. The TV hummed in the background, though neither of them paid much attention to the movie playing. Y/N lays on her stomach, aimlessly scrolling through her phone, while Lando leaned against the headboard, occasionally stealing glances at her with a faint smile.

Every so often, Lando would lean over to show her a meme on his phone. “Look at this one,” he said, his voice tinged with amusement. “Tell me this isn’t you trying to parallel park.”

She glanced at the screen and snorted. “You wish. I’m a better driver than you on normal roads.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Better driver than me? Love, I’m literally a Formula 1 driver.”

“Keyword: Formula 1,” she shot back, smirking. “Take you out of a race car and you’re just a boy who’s scared of roundabouts.”

Lando gasped, clutching his chest dramatically. “Scared of roundabouts? I’ll have you know, I—”

“Missed the exit last week,” she interrupted, her laughter bubbling over. “Twice.”

He shook his head, fighting a grin. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“And you’re lucky you’re funny sometimes,” she retorted, rolling onto her back with a contented sigh. For a moment, silence fell over them, the kind that felt easy and comforting. She stared up at the ceiling, her thoughts drifting, until an idea sparked.

Y/N turned her head toward Lando, her eyes glimmering with mischief. “You know what we should do?” she asked, propping herself up on her elbows.

Lando gave her a wary look. “Do I even want to know?”

She grinned. “Let’s go to the beach.”

His eyebrows shot up. “The beach? At... what time is it? Almost midnight?”

“Exactly,” she said, sitting up fully now. “Think about it: no crowds, just the sound of the waves, the moonlight reflecting on the water. It’ll be magical.”

“Magical,” he repeated, his tone dripping with skepticism. “Or freezing. You realize it’s January, right?”

“Oh, come on, Norris,” she teased, crawling toward him and tugging at his arm. “Are you a Formula 1 driver or a grandpa?”

“Rude,” he muttered, though he was already moving to get out of bed. “Fine, but if I turn into a popsicle, it’s on you.”

“Deal,” she said brightly, hopping off the bed and pulling on the nearest hoodie—his, of course.

The drive to the beach was filled with their usual banter. Lando complained about the absurdity of the whole idea, though his playful tone betrayed him.

“You’re going to owe me so much hot chocolate after this,” he said as they parked.

“Consider it part of my charm,” Y/N replied, hopping out of the car and breathing in the crisp night air. She glanced at him over her shoulder. “Now, come on, slowpoke.”

The beach was quiet, just as she’d hoped. The moon hung low in the sky, casting a silvery glow over the sand and waves. She kicked off her shoes and ran toward the water, laughing as the cold sand squished between her toes.

“You’re insane,” Lando called after her, though he couldn’t help but smile as he watched her.

“And you love it!” she shouted back, spinning around with her arms outstretched.

He rolled his eyes fondly and jogged to catch up. As soon as he reached her, she grabbed his hands and pulled him closer.

“Feel that,” she said, her voice softer now as she gestured toward the horizon. “The sound of the waves, the stars... it’s perfect, isn’t it?”

Lando followed her gaze, his expression softening. “Yeah,” he murmured. “It is.”

They stood there for a while, letting the peacefulness of the moment wash over them. Then, predictably, Y/N broke the silence.

“Race you to the water?” she challenged, already taking off before he could answer.

“Cheater!” he yelled, laughing as he sprinted after her. The icy water lapped at their ankles, and Lando let out a dramatic yelp.

“This is freezing!”

“Don’t be a baby,” she teased, splashing him.

“Oh, you’re going to regret that,” he said, a wicked grin spreading across his face as he scooped her up effortlessly.

“Lando!” she shrieked, laughing uncontrollably as he pretended to toss her into the deeper water before setting her down safely.

By the time they made their way back to the car, their cheeks were flushed, their clothes damp, and their hearts full. The walk back up the beach was slower, their laughter subsiding into a quiet contentment. Lando draped an arm over her shoulders as they carried their shoes in the other hand, the wet sand sticking to their feet.

“Alright,” he said, breaking the silence, “I’ll admit this was... almost magical.”

“Almost?” Y/N teased, bumping him lightly with her shoulder.

“Okay, fine. Fully magical,” he relented, a grin tugging at his lips. “But you’re still insane.”

“And yet here you are, willingly joining me in my insanity,” she quipped.

He laughed, shaking his head. “What can I say? I’m a sucker for you.” He sang the last part, classic Jonas Brothers style, making Y/N roll her eyes and calling him corny.

As they reached the car, the sound of the ocean faded behind them, replaced by the gentle hum of the heater as they settled into their seats. Lando reached over to intertwine his fingers with hers, his thumb brushing softly against her knuckles.

Just as the warmth of the car heater began to sink in, Y/N let out a sudden sneeze. Lando glanced over at her, equal parts concerned and amused.

“Bless you,” he said, shaking his head. “I told you this was a bad idea.”

She sniffled, flashing him a sheepish grin. “Maybe, but it was worth it.”

He reached over to tuck a strand of damp hair behind her ear, his tone softening. “Hot chocolate and a blanket as soon as we’re home. No arguments.”

“Yes, Grandpa,” she teased, her voice playful despite her slightly stuffy nose.

Lando groaned, though the smile on his face betrayed him. “Unbelievable.”

As they pulled into the driveway, the house standing quiet and inviting, Y/N yawned, her head tilting back against the seat. Lando turned off the car, pausing for a moment to look at her.

“You really are something else, you know that?” he said softly.

She blinked at him, her eyes warm and filled with affection. “Good something else or bad something else?”

“Good,” he replied, leaning over to kiss her gently. “Always good.”

And just like that, the night ended the way it began: filled with laughter, love, and the kind of moments that made everything else fade away.

[priceinjection]

hey sorry i went MIA, i had finals and then the holidays and then my laptop broke and now im sick as a mfing dog, i STG i will be back as soon as moving doesn’t make me nauseous

i love all of you sm thank you for the patience with asks and such <3

[bikananjarrus]

having to sit in the parking lot at work waiting for my car to heat up so it doesn’t hate me and die when all i want to do is leave this hellscape immediately. Top 5 worst winter experiences for sure

[ratsoh-writes]

Guys I’m sad 😭😭😭

[thatfaerieprincess]

I often forget how badly the cold can fuck me up and then one slightly-too-chilly-for-slightly-too-long outing and I’m out of commission for the rest of the damn day…

No outdoor winter job for me I guess

[pierregaslays]

having a cold is actually the worst thing that can happen to a girl

[producedbysohyun]

Cuddling

Squid game x reader hcs

Summary: How the people in squid games would cuddle you (separate)

Includes: Thanos, In-ho, Se-mi, Dae-ho, Myung-gi, Jun-ho, Hyun-ju, Mi-na (non!squid game au)

Warnings: might be slightly suggestive at some points.

masterlist

a/n: I love writing these so much! I hope you guys enjoy them as much as I do!!

Thanos

Get ready to be crushed

Lays on-top of you

And does not let you get up for anything

“Let me get up for a second I-“

“No.”

While laying on-top of you he takes the opportunity to kiss your neck or chest

If you do end up getting up he whines until you lay back down

Type of Bf to use your butt or thighs as a pillow 😔✊

Randomly bites you

Has cute aggression 100%

Very deep sleeper

Moves so much in his sleep so if you guys fall asleep cuddling at least one of you is gonna be upside down when you wake up

Will give you pda anytime anywhere he does not care

I’m literally Dr. Seuss

In-ho

Not very big on cuddling

He tolerates it for you tho 😚

Even tho cuddling isn’t really his thing he LOVES when you sit on his lap

Especially when you’re facing him

Also likes when you lay on his chest

Literally just lets you cling to him and do whatever

Acts like he doesn’t care for it but we all know the truth

When he’s tired he just completely lets his guard down

That will probably be the only time he initiates cuddling

Other wise you’re kinda on your own 

Se-mi

Loves laying on your chest !!

Gives you neck kisses when she’s the big spoon 😏

Also a biter

Likes to have you on her lap

Touches your tummy while cuddling

you cannot stop her 😡

Clingiest Gf you can have !!

Takes every opportunity to hug you from behind and just stays like that for as long as possible

When you lay on her chest she likes to play with your hair

Another deep sleeper

Girl will not wake up for anything

If you are in bed with her you better be ready to never leave the bed again once she gets her hands on you

“Babe I need to get up”

“Five more minutessss”

Dae-ho

Most cuddly person ever

Big spoon !!

not so secretly likes being small spoon sometimes

Either rests his head on-top of yours or in your neck

If you guys fall asleep like that expect not to be getting up at all

Literally has a death grip on you

Lays his head on your thighs or chest pt.2

Will fall asleep immediately if you start playing with his hair 🙁

HATES sleeping without you

The lightest sleeper ever

If you softly shake him awake he will either have a dramatic mom reaction or he’ll just be confused asf

My babbyyyyyy

Myung-gi

Struggles to sleep if you aren’t next to him

Religiously the big spoon

He likes to put his hands up your shirt while cuddling and his excuse is

“My hands were cold 🙁”

“Damn right they are 😡”

Yaaaa we all know his real intentions ✊

Neck kisses pt.2 !!

Another one that uses your thighs as a pillow

Moves a lot in his sleep as well but stays holding you the whole time somehow

Loves you being on his lap pt.2

The type to rub your thighs while watching a movie or some sht😭😔🙁😭😡😔😔😡

I want him so bad

Gives you so much kisses !!

I need someone like him omg 😔

Jun-ho

Loves cuddling face to face if that makes sense 😭

Likes to hear about your day while just holding you

Listens intently and plays with your hair as you speak

He also enjoys when you lay on his chest

The weight of your body calms him down and he feels better knowing you’re safe in his arms

If he’s feeling extra vulnerable that day he’ll lay his head on your chest

Probably gets super exhausted after work sometimes so he just falls asleep the second he gets home

and when you join him in bed he immediately wraps his arms around you

Overall I don’t think he’d be to big on cuddling but he also wouldn’t mind

Hyun-ju

She’s just a big teddy bear

Especially when you’re alone with her

She isn’t too big on pda so in public she probably just sticks to holding your hand

But in private you’re getting cuddles, kisses, you name it

There will be a lot of giggling going around

Loves if you braid or play with her hair while cuddling

Lets you try out new hairstyles on her to see which one looks the prettiest 🤭

Loves when you lay on-top of her

When the both of you go to bed she HAS to be touching you

No matter if it’s holding hands or being straight up on top of eachother

Poor girl just needs you 😔

Mi-na

I feel like she wouldn’t really care for being touchy with anyone but if it’s her s/o

Sign her up !!

Definitely small spoon

She wants to be treated like a princess 😋

Puts her legs over your lap and just pouts at you till you rub them

If she’s feeling a little frisky she’ll get you to put your head on her chest and then just cling onto you

Loves giving you kisses !!

ugh I want her

Cannot fall asleep if you aren’t in bed with her

a/n: hii! I hope you guys enjoyed thissss! (If you’ve made requests it might take awhile for me to get to them I’ve been busy lately I hope you understand!) (reqs are currently closed)

[dollishmehrayan]

WEIRD THINGS BATBOYS DO WHEN THEY LIKE YOU ── .✦

a/n: this is a request + ask so tysm to whoever sent that but it’s (here) but anyways I’m so excited for my birthday on december 7th this year and it’s just so beautiful to see me grow up honestly and find myself. (Tags: batboys x crush!reader)

© dollishmehrayan — ( all rights reserved to me. These works cannot be reposted, translated, or modified. Thank you for understanding dollies! )

DICK GRAYSON ── .✦

Excessive Flexing (Literally): Dick will "accidentally" do pull-ups in front of you. He’s already shirtless and grinning, saying, “Oh, didn’t see you there. Wanna join?”

Compliment Overload: “Is that a new hairstyle? New shoes? You look incredible. Oh, wait, you always look incredible.” He will literally point out your eyelashes looking perfect “wow so nice, your lashes are so long and beautiful.”

The Over-Helper: He suddenly insists on helping you with everything—carrying bags, opening jars, lifting heavy stuff—and does it with the biggest, dorkiest smile. “It’s no big deal, bab- I mean—uh… friend.”

Trips Over Air: He’s graceful in battle, but near you? He’s knocking over coffee cups and walking into doorframes. "I swear, I’m usually coordinated, maybe I’m falling for you?😉”

JASON TODD ── .✦

Overly Cool Persona: He tries to play it cool, acting like he doesn’t care. But then he’ll text you at 3 a.m. with, “U up? I found a meme that reminded me of you.”

Teases You Constantly: Jason’s version of flirting is lightly roasting you. “Did you really think that outfit would work today?” But if anyone else says something, he’s ready to fight.

Surprise Gifts: He’ll give you something like your favorite snack but pretend it’s no big deal. “I just had extra,” he’ll mumble, even though he went to three stores to find it.

Blushes Like Crazy: He’s all tough-guy until you compliment him, and then it’s over. He gets red and stammers, “Shut up,” while smiling like an idiot.

TIM DRAKE ── .✦

Awkward Genius Mode: He’s smart with everything… except his crush. Suddenly, forming coherent sentences is a challenge. “I-I mean, uh… yeah, computers.”

Googles 'How to Flirt': You’ll catch him peeking at his phone mid-conversation because he’s literally reading “Flirting 101” or reading Reddit threads on flirting gone wrong.

Coffee Delivery: He’ll bring you coffee with your exact order memorized and pretend it’s casual. “Oh, you like this too? Weird coincidence.” It’s not. He asked around for hours.

Accidentally Compliments You: He’ll blurt out, “You smell nice.” Pause. “I mean, not that I’m sniffing you or anything!” Cue him turning bright red and hiding behind his laptop.

DAMIAN WAYNE ── .✦

Pretends He Doesn’t Care: He’ll act indifferent but secretly monitors everything you do. “I don’t care what you do,” he says while glaring at someone standing too close to you.

Suddenly Overly Polite: Damian, the king of sass, becomes weirdly respectful. “Would you like me to carry that for you? No? Okay. Are you sure?”

Gives You Fancy Gifts: He gifts you rare, expensive things like hand-picked flowers from the Wayne estate garden. “It’s not a big deal. Just take it.”

Random Acts of Bravery: He’ll jump in front of a moving bicycle or push you out of the way of a puddle, then act like it was nothing. “It was instinct. Don’t be dramatic.”

BRUCE WAYNE ── .✦

Becomes an Awkward flirt: He’s smooth in public but completely loses it around his crush. “Do you need anything? No? Water? A chair?” He’s offering things you don’t need.

Over-Explains Everything: Bruce will start talking about something mundane and give a full TED Talk. “Well, you see, the Batmobile’s engine is unique because…” You just wanted to know if it had cup holders.

Subtle Touches: He’ll brush your hand “accidentally” or adjust your coat collar, lingering just a second too long. But if you call him out, he’ll stammer, “I thought you were cold.”

Silent Protector: He’ll stand silently in the background, watching like a brooding guardian angel. If anyone flirts with you, his jaw clenches like it’s personal.

Bonus: Dumb Things They ALL Do ── .✦

Group Text Fiascos: They’ll text each other for advice, and it always goes wrong.

Jason: “Should I call her pretty or hot?”

Tim: “Say she’s breathtaking. It’s classier.”

Dick: “Just tell her you love her.”

Damian: “You’re all fools.”

Bruce (accidentally replying to all): “…Delete this.”

Staring Too Long: Every single one of them will stare at you for too long, only to awkwardly look away when you notice. They’ll try to play it off, but you know they were looking.

Clumsy Idiots: They’ll all try to do something impressive—lift something heavy, show off their fighting skills—and it’ll backfire hilariously. But the effort is adorable.

[wheres-mylove]

ice-cold revelations - modern!cregan stark x fem!velaryon!reader

Summary: You are in a risky secret relationship with your brother's best friend. What happens when Cregan's unexpected injury exposes your feelings? Well, isn't there somebody you forgot to ask?

Disclaimer: English isn't my first language!

Word count: 2.8k

The wind tore through the streets with a biting ferocity, tugging at (Y/N)’s skirt and making her instantly regret both her outfit choice and this entire trip to the bus stop.

“Stupid winter has to be coming,” she muttered, yanking a colorful scarf up to cover her nose. Her phone chimed in her pocket, vibrating with the familiar sound of a new message. She fumbled with one hand to pull it out, her fingers stiff from the cold.

🐺: jace wouldn’t stop bugging me about that earring under my bed

🐺: i convinced him sara must’ve left it when she crashed at our place lmao

(Y/N) raised her eyebrows, her breath fogging the air as she sighed. The last thing she needed was her brother playing the part of a suspicious rom-com wife, finding random jewelry in odd places and jumping to conclusions. At least he hadn’t figured out where he’d seen that earring before.

Jacaerys Velaryon, as much as she adored him, had a habit of being a little too protective. He was always there when she needed him. But he was also the kind of brother who, despite being only a few minutes older, seemed to think that fact gave him full control over her dating life. Any guy who so much as glanced her way was either a potential threat or one of his friends. And friends were off-limits. Too much drama, he’d say. Too awkward if things went south. Even more awkward if things somehow worked out. Conflict of interest. Absolutely not.

Which was precisely why, in the grand scheme of things, the most logical solution was for her to start dating his best friend and his hockey team captain, Cregan Stark.

Cregan was wonderful. The kind of guy who would do anything for her, no questions asked. That's what had brought them to where they were now. Hiding their relationship from her dramatic brother and quite literally gaslighting him.

Did she feel guilty? Absolutely. Did she know it would be a hundred times worse if Jace found out? Also yes.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sight of a bus speeding past the stop, tires screeching as it flew by. Her bus. Of course.

With impressive force, she pressed the green phone icon.

“Hey, sweetheart. What’s up?” Cregan answered in three seconds. Her irritation melted a little at the sound of his deep voice. Down bad.

“Hey, did you guys finish practice?”

“Yeah, just now, I couldn’t cut the boys any slack before tomorrow.”

“Any chance the strict captain could give me a ride home? I missed the bus. Or more like the bus missed me.”

“You’re kidding,” Cregan said, sympathy already thick in his voice. “Of course I’ll come get you.” He paused for a beat, then cleared his throat. “Only thing is… Jace wanted a ride too.”

“The gods are punishing me today,” she groaned.

“Call him. It'll be the same ride. Just, you know, he'll think it was his idea,” Cregan suggested.

“Are we bad people, Cregan?” she asked, half-serious now.

“Nah. He’ll find out eventually, just better if I’m in full hockey gear when it happens.”

“Fair enough,” she said, the corner of her mouth lifting in a smile. “Thanks. Love you. Bye.”

She hung up and immediately dialed her brother, requesting the same exact thing.

“Sure, you owe me one though,” he said cheerfully. “I don’t have my car today, so we’ll have to go with Stark. Is that a problem?”

“Nope.” No, her boyfriend wouldn’t be a problem.

(Y/N) Velaryon paced back and forth under the shelter of the bus stop, her boots crunching against the thin layer of frost that had already formed on the pavement. She rubbed her arms, trying to keep the cold at bay, when the familiar growl of a black Jeep Wrangler cut through the quiet. It rolled to a stop near the curb.

She jogged toward the car, her breath puffing out in small clouds, as the driver’s window slid down.

“Your chariot awaits, princess,” Cregan announced with a mock flourish.

“More like a toad,” Jace quipped from the passenger seat, his grin unmistakable.

“One more word and you’ll get my bag to the head. I’ve got half my textbooks in there,” she threatened playfully as she slid into the backseat.

The backseat of this car had witnessed many events, and that was the first thought that crossed her mind. One look at Cregan in the side mirror, and she knew he was thinking the same.

She pretended to be very engrossed in buckling her seatbelt.

“How was practice?” she asked out of politeness.

“Not bad. Stark was all business today, but it was necessary. Big day tomorrow,” Jace replied, fiddling with the radio. Cregan slapped his hand away as he slowed down for a red light.

“Great,” the girl muttered, not trusting her tongue around the two of them together.

An awkward silence fell, broken only by some random song. How long can a red light last?

“So, (Y/N),” Cregan began, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. His voice wavered, but Jace was in his own world, watching pedestrians crossing the street. “How’s it going? How was your day?”

“Pretty good,” she replied, playing with the hem of her skirt. “Though the classes dragged on.”

The devil on her shoulder won an uneven fight with the weak angel. She smirked.

“‘M absolutely knackered.”

Cregan inhaled slowly through his nose.

“Dude, it’s green,” Jace informed him, just before the car behind them honked.

“I can see,” Cregan reassured him, finally moving forward. “I’ll need your sister’s address since I’ve never been there before.”

If Jace had one more brain cell, he wouldn’t be so easily fooled.

“Sure thing,” her brother agreed, typing the info into the GPS on his phone. “Hey, kid, are you coming to the game tomorrow?”

“How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that?” (Y/N) asked angrily, kicking his seat. “Baela’s taking me.”

“You know what I think?” Jace started, spreading his arms dramatically. “A girlfriend in the stands is such a power boost. Such a boost… I never play as well as when Baela supports me from the bleachers.”

“You never play well,” His sister muttered under her breath, but Jacaerys was currently listening only to himself.

“Cregan wouldn’t get it,” He patted Cregan on the shoulder in the meantime. “If you combined your skills with that support, if you brought a girl, trust me, your performance would be a hundred times better.”

“Talented people don’t need superstitions to play well, Jace,” (Y/N) chimed in, leaning forward. “Besides, Cregan is single.”

“Because he’s too serious and broody, girls don’t like that,” her brother declared in a know-it-all voice. She gave him a side-eye. “He is afraid of women.”

“Are you afraid of women, Stark?” she asked seriously, barely holding back laughter.

Cregan shot her a look in the mirror, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Terrified,” he deadpanned. “That’s why I’m thinking maybe your sister should be my good luck charm tomorrow. Just as a friend, of course.”

“Eh, it’s not the same,” Jace protested, scrunching his face.

“Don’t you believe in the power of friendship?” the driver asked with full seriousness.

“Can I get a jersey with your number?” (Y/N) batted her lashes playfully at her boyfriend.

A jersey with his number was already hanging in her closet.

“Alright, you’ll see, you need deeper feelings for it to work, otherwise it just won’t…”

Jacaerys continued his monologue all the way to her apartment. The girl sighed with relief once she was back in her room, the familiarity of it a welcome escape from the tension.

Two new messages.

🐺: you looked so pretty today

🐺: but next time wear a damn coat, or you’ll catch a cold!!!

The fluorescent light above (Y/N)’s head flickered ominously, casting creepy shadows across the cramped janitor’s closet. She swore that if the bulb died completely, she'd either pee her pants or spiral into a full-blown claustrophobic meltdown. Leaning back against the wall, she tried to focus on the neatly arranged rows of brooms and mops. Soon, the door creaked open, revealing Cregan in all his glory.

Full hockey gear? Check. Helmet? Tucked under his arm. That goofy, ridiculous smile? Definitely check.

“You look so good,” she admitted, grabby hands already in the air. “Come here.”

Cregan shut the door behind him with a soft click, casting a glance at the flickering light overhead. He sighed, took one of her hands, and kissed her wrist softly. 

“We have to tell your brother,” Stark said, his voice serious as he placed his helmet on the wooden shelf beside them. “It’s not right that my girl has to sneak me a good-luck kiss in a smelly closet. You should be able to strut right into the locker room.”

His girl grinned. “You’ve got your gear on,” she pointed out. “We can tell him after the game. Besides, Baela’s softening him up for us. I asked her to.”

Baela Targaryen was known for sniffing out secrets, and the second she spotted (Y/N) wearing Cregan’s jersey before the game, she didn’t even need to ask. Her knowing look said it all, and within minutes, Velaryon girl spilled the truth, enduring Baela’s delighted squeal that had probably echoed for miles.

“I knew you had high standards, girl. Going straight for the captain!” Baela teased, laughing. “Jace obviously doesn’t know? He hasn’t said anything... and Stark’s still breathing.”

Thankfully, Baela had been more than willing to help, distracting Jace so Cregan could sneak away after the pre-game pep talk. Now, Cregan was looking at (Y/N) with pride, his eyes lingering on the jersey she wore. 

“She’s a real one for that,” he mused. “But seriously, we have to tell him. I want a picture of us on my lock screen, and that asshole keeps looking over my shoulder.”

She laughed, pulling him closer and kissing him hard, savoring the way his rough stubble tickled her skin.

“For now,” she murmured against his lips, “just focus on the game. You’re incredible. An amazing captain. And it’s going to go great. I believe in you.”

Cregan grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Maybe one more kiss. Just to make sure we win.”

“The power of having a girl in the stands,” she teased, poking his chest playfully.

“Jace definitely exaggerated that theory,” Cregan confessed with a chuckle. “But honestly... I’m just glad you’re here.”

With butterflies in her stomach and a grin she couldn’t wipe off her face, (Y/N) found herself in the stands minutes later, sitting next to Baela. Her friend was watching the silent exchange of glances between her and Cregan with thinly veiled amusement.

“I always knew Jace was blind, but this is just tragic,” Baela remarked, elbowing her in the ribs. Jace, oblivious as ever, waved enthusiastically from the rink. Both girls waved back, cheering with the crowd.

“You’ll boo with me when the Dornish Spears come out, right?” (Y/N) asked.

Baela gave her a mock-serious look. “Technically, we shouldn’t. Obviously, I will,” she promised. 

The game was fast, brutal, and nearly deadlocked until the very end. (Y/N) had never yelled so much in her life, though her shouts were lost in the deafening roar of the crowd. Cregan played like a man possessed, commanding the ice with his usual grace. At least twenty times during the match, she found herself holding her breath, her heart leaping into her throat with every risky play. But she knew he had it under control. He always did.

Of course they won.

The victory rippled through the stands like a wave, and (Y/N) screamed herself hoarse as the crowd erupted around her. Cregan pulled off his helmet, his eyes scanning the stands until he found her. His smile—tired and breathtaking—was for her, and her alone. She didn’t regret the ringing in her ears or the scratch in her throat for a second. Moments later, he was swept up in a sea of celebrating teammates.

“Girl, are you crying?” Baela asked, pulling her into a hug.

“I don’t know,” She sniffled. “I’m just emotional. I just like that boy so fucking much, Bae.”

“I know, honey. Come on, they’re heading off the ice. Let’s congratulate them, and then have a crazy party or something. No time for tears.”

Cregan was one of the last players to leave the ice, trailing just behind Jace. But before he could step off, the captain of the opposing team, his face twisted with anger, skated up to him. For a moment, it looked like they might talk it out. But then, it all happened too fast.

The player from Dorne shoved Cregan hard against the wall. Stark, ever the calm one, simply raised his hands in a peaceful gesture.

And then he took a fist to the face. The sickening sound of bone cracking echoed across the rink.

“What the hell is going on? Jace!” Baela shouted, holding her friend back as she tried to rush forward.

Jace jumped back onto the ice, but by the time he got there, the other team had pulled their enraged captain away. Cregan stumbled off the ice just as (Y/N) reached him.

“Are you okay? Oh gods, let me see,” she fretted, her hands hovering near his face.

“What a fucking jerk!” Jace nearly screamed, skidding to a stop by the exit. “I called for help, they’ll be here in a second.”

(Y/N) carefully moved Cregan’s hand away, revealing the damage. His face was a swollen mess, his nose clearly broken.

“Do you think they’ll make me lie face-down on the ice?” Cregan joked weakly, leaning on her for support.

“Does it hurt a lot? Maybe you should sit down. Oh shit, I can’t believe—”

“Hey, sweetheart. Calm down,” Cregan murmured, his voice soothing despite the pain. “It hurts like hell, but I’ll live.”

Just then, the medic arrived, momentarily distracting Jace. But despite the chaos, he had clearly heard what Cregan just said. For a moment, Jace stood there, his face pale as the words and the image before him sank in.

“Sweetheart?” he echoed softly, but no one paid him any attention.

“Jace, maybe now’s not the time,” Baela said gently, stepping up beside him.

“I feel physically sick,” Jace muttered, staggering to the railing for support.

The medic handed Cregan an ice pack. “Hold this to your face for a bit. I’ll get you something for the pain right away, but a doctor’s gonna have to set that nose.”

Cregan winced but smiled through it. “You might wanna check on my friend first,” he said, gesturing toward Jace. “I can wait. He looks like he’s about to pass out.”

Jace did, in fact, end up passing out.

Cregan had to take a break from sports after that little adventure. He’d recovered, but now sported a slightly crooked nose—something his girlfriend found oddly hot.

(Y/N) saw his temporary recovery as the perfect chance to manipulate him into watching Teen Wolf with her every evening. After all, the title worked in her favor.

They were nestled on the couch, wrapped together in a soft gray blanket. It was their first time lounging in the living room of the apartment Cregan shared with her brother, rather than hiding behind the securely locked door of his bedroom. 

It would be perfect, really. If it weren’t for Jace’s constant, deliberate trips to the kitchen and bathroom, each one an obvious reminder that he was keeping an eye on them.

“Dear Jacaerys,” (Y/N) said, her patience wearing thin, “you do know we don’t need a chaperone, right?”

Jace barely paused, shooting her a sidelong glance before muttering, “You need someone to knock the stupid ideas out of your heads,” as he slammed the bathroom door.

Cregan chuckled softly, pulling her closer. “Give him some time,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to her temple. “To be honest, I thought it would be worse. He’ll come around eventually.”

They’d already gone through several long, tension-filled conversations, with Baela stepping in as the voice of reason when things got too heated. They were careful now, avoiding anything that might provoke Jace further.

But Cregan was right—Jace was slowly coming around, even if he was still stubborn. The days of silent treatment had finally passed.

“This is on us for hiding things from him,” (Y/N) sighed, watching her brother embark on yet another purposeful long journey to the kitchen. “No more secrets now.”

“Your brother’s just looking out for you,” Cregan called out, raising his voice slightly so Jace could hear. “He doesn’t want anything bad to happen to you, and I respect that. I don’t know anyone else who cares like he does.”

Jace stopped, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed, eyes narrowed. His lips curved into a sweet, mischievous grin.

“Yeah,” he began, drawing out the word. “So tell me sister, when are you introducing him to Mom?”

[kdyq]

A Warrior’s vigil

Ambessa x fem!reader

Context: ambessa takes care of you while your sick

The first sign that your illness came in the form of a soft cough a sound Ambessa would usually dismiss if it weren’t for how it lingered filled by a faint wince.

She turned from the window of your shared grand estate she had been gazing at the distant horizon and fixed her gaze on the source of the sound.

You, her Darling your usual high energy dulled as you’re seated in a velvet chair by the fire. “ You’re unwell..” Ambessa stated her tone leaving no room for denial.

You move your eyes from the fire and glanced up at her “It’s just a cold. Nothing to worry about” you say as your lips curling into a weak smile.

Ambessa stepped forward. Her heavy boots echoing across the stone floor. “ I don’t tolerate lies, especially from you.” She says as she place the back of her hand against your forehead her expression darking front the warmth. “ You have a fever. Go to bed, now.”

“I can mange—“ she cuts you off. “Y/N.” Her voice was a low growl not harsh but commanding “Do not argue with me.”

Within moments Ambessa swept you into your shared bedroom her efficiency t even someone meticulous as her. The silk sheets were freshly changed and the servant went rushing to fetch a physician.

You lay against a mountain of pillows as you watch Ambessa with amused and exhaustion. “You’re resting me as one of your soldiers.” You say

Ambessa raised an eyebrow as she placed a of tea and broth on the nightstand .”If my soldiers had half of your worth I would. Now drink this.”

You chuckled softly our laughter turning into a cough. Ambessa’s jaw tightened as she handed you the steaming hot ginger tea.

The physician arrived swiftly a nervous young woman who avoided Ambessa’s sharp gaze. She examined you under the warrior’s scrutinizing supervision stammering her recommendations for rest and to hydrate before scurrying out.

Ambessa stayed by your side, her usual air of dominance tempered by quiet vigilance. She brought soup, adjusted blankets, and even read aloud from one of your favorite books, though her deep, commanding voice seemed ill suited to the whimsical tale.

“You’re softer than I expected,” you teased her your voice hoarse but playful. Ambessa smirked. “Do not mistake care for softness. I protect what is mine whether from armies or illnesses.” She leaned closer her hand brushing a stray lock of hair from your damp forehead. “You happen to be mine.”

The days passed, and though your fever subsided Ambessa’s attention never wavered. Even when you began to regain your strength the warrior insisted you rest with no argument.

“Ambessa, I can walk to the garden without fainting,” You protested one morning, your color returned.

“You’ll stay in bed until I say otherwise,” Ambessa replied, crossing her arms over her broad chest.

You sighed dramatically, but her eyes were soft. “You’re insufferable, you know.”

“And you’re reckless. A perfect match.”

When you were finally well enough to move about freely, Ambessa resumed her usual composure, though she still watched you like a hawk.

“You should let me dote on you sometime,” you say as you sat by the fire one evening, her hand brushing against Ambessa’s.

The warrior raised an eyebrow. “Unlikely.” But the faintest smile tugged at her lips.

“You’re lucky I’m patient,” You quipped.

Ambessa leaned in, her voice a low murmur. “And you’re lucky I’ll move mountains for you. Just don’t get sick again. It’s inefficient.”

You laughed, your laughter ringing through the room like music, and Ambessa allowed herself a rare moment of softness, her hand resting gently over your hand.

“THE END”

AN/ : OMGGGG MY FIRST STORY EVERRRR. MORE IS TO COMEEEE I’ve literally really written a lot.

[san8ny]

I COULD BE MOM, (unless you want to be dad?)

?: In which Ellie has been away on a trip, what better ‘welcome home’ gift than delusionally letting her get you pregnant with a strap?

!: Breeding, Praise, Slight spitplay, Strapping, Pussyeating, Obsessed!Ellie, says ‘mommy’ ONCEEEE!

“You can’t.”

Ellie tilts her head, lips falling into a frown, “Maybe if we try enough?”

Was she serious?

“You literally can’t though, Ellie, it’s biologically impossible. You nutting in me doesn’t mean we can have babies.” You roll your eyes, scrolling on your phone before it’s plucked out of your grasp and tossed to the side, “Hey—!”

“You’re so negative.” She smiles, hooking her thumbs into the waistband of your underwear, shoving you back into the bed so abruptly as she sinks to her bruised up knees. You let out a shiver at the implication of what was to be taken place, eyeing the muddy suitcases near the entrance of your shared bedroom before bringing your gaze to what she was doing, “You haven’t even unpacked yet..”

Wrapping her arms around your hips, she pulls you closer to her ravishing mouth, cooing as she thumbs your swollen folds, “Yeah, but i’m a starved woman, you that surprised?” With that, Ellie digs in.

It was going so well, mouth feeling like heaven on you ‘til she spoke up,

“Biologically, did you know the clit has tens upon thousands of nerves?” She says out of nowhere, lifting her head up to display the lower half of her face soaked with your arousal, and more importantly, sizing up your smart-ass retort from earlier when she asked to breed you. “Fuck off..” You tiredly reply, not finding it in yourself to tell her off how you want, not with the delicious feeling of your stomach beginning to coil in what seems like a long-awaited orgasm— but Ellie’s not feeling nice.

She quickly retracts her mouth away, a dramatic ‘pop!’ from your clit when initially does so. She gets up, jogging over to her suitcases to get something, all while your mouth is gaped at her audacity. You’re eagle-spread like a damn french girl, and she just..gets up?

She quickly returns back, sheepishly kissing your hipbone as a half-hearted apology, except you feel something cold and long slap onto it aswell.

Alarmed, you raise your head and are met with one hell of a sight, Ellie wearing what seems to be a literal death contraption— a long, beautifully sculptured, silicone cock, slightly curved at the end with an adjustable harness wrapped around Ellie’s gamine figure. Was this the reason your wife believed she could suddenly re-write the law’s of nature? You gulp when she slaps it once more against your bikini line, this time, slowly nearing your leaky entrance.

“Biologically, you think maybe ‘yer cunt might break from this?” She utters mockingly, leaning forward to kiss the edge of your lips before she runs the tip of the toy inbetween your folds ‘nice and easyyy’..getting it all nice and most importantly, wet. “Geez, who needs lube when I got one of these bad boys..” Ellie says, before trailing off with a laugh when you don’t seem to be focused on any of her words as she plugs you up.

You’re still finding yourself getting use to the exaggerated stretch of the dildo, it’s beginning to feel like it’s practically splitting you in two. You attempt pathetically at gripping the sheets but find yourself wrapping your arms around Ellie, needily pulling her closer to your still-clothed chest. “A-aaah..”

She smiles at your gasps and whines, your pleasure alone intensifying whatever shes feeling by a ton, even if she wasn’t the one taking it. “Just grab ‘onna me.” Ellie says, voice void of any previous teasing but instead a certain softness, “I won’t be mad, baby.”

You nod, eyes cinched closed when she begins picking up momentum; you almost immediately wrap your legs around her lower back, wanting her even deeper, somewhat understanding what ‘dickmatized’ meant now. “Uhn! Uhn! E-llie!” The redhead chortles at the rhythmic hiccuping of her name, groaning when the sharp pressure of your heels drive further into her back, definitely leaving bruises later, “Just take it slowly, ye—eah? ah! ‘m right here, giving it to my favorite girl..”

You two have been in for a while, and Ellie has you a complete mess, milky fluids forming at the base of her cock each time she bullies her hips into yours, ripping a cute sob outta you. If she could marry you a thousand times over, she would— she really would. If only you saw yourself through her eyes, the sheer and utter helplessness she feels when you’re handling kids, knowing you’d make the best mommy out there, and god, she’s a sucker for you, buying you everything you ever ask because she’s head over heels in-love with your very essence. She’ll build you up everytime you fall and never complain. You were her dream girl.

Speaking of dream, she gently pats your cheek, asking you in a docile voice if you’re still with her, and when you nod back, with lttle pools of crystals forming at the ends of your lashes, Ellie is about to free-touch cum at this point, needing to get you to that point with her ASAP. She runs her thumb over your lip as you instinctively take in her digit, swirling your tongue around it while she quickens up her pace, sinful slaps of skin echoing throughout the humid room and likely to the rest of the home too, a clear indication of how far she was willing to go with you. “I-i’m gonna cum..” you mewl pitifully, tits moving forward eachtime she rams her strap into ‘ya, finally meeting ellie’s gaze somewhat as saliva seeps past your lips, dribbling down the thumb she had on the tip of your tongue. Ellie brings her head down to your shoulder, rocking her hips hard and fast, a slight bulge forming in your lower stomach from how deep she was in your guts, all while her beautiful sounds play in your ear, each little huff and tuff of praise.

“So warm..so soft, y-you’re ‘gna be the end of me, mommy..” Ellie whimpers admittedly when the end of the strap repeatedly stimulates and bumps into her engorged clit, and to put an end to her soft streak, Ellie meanly presses a hand to your lower-belly, forcibly bringing you to, hands down, one of the most pornographic, blissful, soul-shattering orgasms you’ve ever had in a long tome, creaming all over the strap, your thighs and her tanktop. That sight of you alone, also, makes her cum when she finally bottoms out, body feeling limp as it falls over you.

She eventually rolls over you, draping a tatted forearm around her eyes to shield her from the moon beams shining in from your windows. “Why do we even open that one—“ However, upon noticing your steady breathing and occasional snores, she drops whatever she was gonna say, scooting closer to kiss you— lips lingering when she finally pulls back from your cheek.

She never understood when Joel and the other mopey adults around her would complain about marriage, and quite frankly, she doesn’t think she ever will, not until her cold dead body is ripped away from yours.

‘Til then, she was gonna build this family up with you, your future kid’s adoption papers still in one of her suit-cases as she lifts herself up to her elbows and eventually to her feet, retrieving a warm wet towel from the bathroom to clean you up with, especially not having the heart to wake you up.

Not that you could likely still walk after the number she’s done on you.

[moonstruckme]

okay sooo mae i have this idea for emt!marauders! you know how some people have mistaken appendicitis/ruptured appendix for bad period cramps (bc period education is so abysmal). im imagining a reader who thinks they’re having the worst period pain ever and the marauders are trying to help, but once reader describes their symptoms the boys are like ‘uhmmm no babes you literally need an organ removed rn’.

i hope you are having the best day <3 sending you all the good vibes!! <3

Sending good vibes back, thank you lovely <33

cw: stomach pains, mention of hospital/surgery

emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 974 words

“Shh, I know, baby.” 

“You don’t,” you moan bitterly, pushing your face harder into Sirius’ lap and clutching your heating pad to your stomach. 

“I—yeah, I guess you’re right. Sorry.” He continues to toy with your hair, fingernails scratching lightly at your scalp in an attempt to soothe you. On the other end of the couch by your feet, James watches you with a sad puppy look. Sirius’ hand brushes across your temple, and he makes a sympathetic whining sound. “Oh, sweetheart, you’re hot.” 

“It hurts,” you whine in earnest. 

“Do you want some brownies?” Remus peeks out of the kitchen. “I’m almost done with these, but you’re welcome to some batter if you can’t wait.” 

You nibble your lip, looking at him apologetically. “I don’t think I feel well enough to eat anything.” 

Remus gives you a compassionate look and disappears back into the kitchen. Another wave of sudden, sharp pain makes you suck in a breath, curling tighter in on yourself. Sirius coos. 

“Fuck, what did I do to deserve this?” You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to breathe through the pain. “It’s never usually this bad.” 

“Does it hurt in your back, too, angel?” James leans forward, rubbing tentatively at the base of your spine. 

“No, not—not this time. It’s so weird.” 

His eyebrows bunch. “Why don’t you at least have some of your tea? That usually helps, doesn’t it?” 

You press your face into Sirius’ stomach. He palms the back of your head protectively, thumb rubbing the skin by your ear. “Honestly, thank you, but I really don’t think I can. 

“You should, dove,” says Remus, coming in from the kitchen to crouch by your head. He takes your tea and presses it into your hands, brushing a kiss against your hairline when you take it. “Sit up and have a few sips before it gets cold.” 

Reluctantly, you do as you’re told, allowing Sirius to help you into a seated position. He pulls you gently into his lap, making sure your heating pad stays situated, and you raise the cup to your lips. James rubs your ankle encouragingly while you drink. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks at your pinched expression. 

You mash your face into Sirius’ shoulder, ashamed. You feel horribly dramatic. You must have the lowest pain threshold in the whole world. “I can’t decide whether to go to the toilet. I feel like I could be sick, but moving makes it hurt worse.” 

Remus takes your cup from you, setting it back on the table. He’s frowning. “Moving makes it worse?” 

You nod miserably. 

He touches his knuckles to your forehead, brows stitching together. “How long have you been feeling nauseous?” 

You make a low, piteous sound. It feels impossible to think clearly with your stomach radiating hurt. “I dunno. I think it’s because of the pain.” 

“Was it the same time that the cramps started?” 

“I think so.” 

“Alright, thanks, sweetheart.” He kisses the space between your brows. “Do you mind if we check on something really quickly?”

You feel your eyebrows furrow. You’re about to ask what he means when James takes your heating pad, pulling it off of your middle. 

“Just for a second,” he promises at your distressed expression. “I’m gonna feel your stomach, okay?” 

You nod, wanting whatever this is over with so you can get your heating pad back, but when James’ fingers push gently into your lower abdomen, the pain triples. You cry out. 

“It’s okay,” Sirius coos, holding you tighter to his chest while James backs up to allow you to fold your knees in again. “It’s okay, baby, he’s done.”

“Jamie,” Remus asks softly, “would you get us a bag ready, please?” 

You blow air out through your mouth, trying to calm yourself as the pain fades back to the way it was. Sirius pets the back of your head, his other arm wrapped firmly around your shoulders. “A bag for what?” you ask weakly. 

Remus looks at you, his face conveying both apology and tenderness. “We’re going to go to the hospital,” he says slowly. 

“Wha—why?” You feel immediately frantic. Tears press at your eyes. “I don’t want to go anywhere.”  

“He’s telling you why, baby, listen.” Sirius kisses your head. 

“You’re not having period cramps,” Remus says patiently. “The good news is, we can fix it. The pain will go away, and you’ll be completely fine. But to do that, we need to go to the hospital so you can have your appendix taken out.” 

As he explains, Sirius is pressing kiss after kiss into your hair, holding you close and rubbing your back when you get upset. You make your dissent known, but Remus is calm and understanding. He answers your questions honestly, tells you about the procedure, promises they’ll be with you for as long as you’re awake. Before long, James has returned with a backpack of supplies for an overnight stay and your pillow under his arm. 

He sets them both down on the coffee table. Slips one arm behind your shoulders, another beneath the crooks of your knees. 

“No sense in walking when you’re poorly, right angel? Sirius, you can carry her things, yeah?”

Sirius groans as he slings the backpack over his shoulder. “Fuck, did you pack all her books?” 

“Just the essentials.” James kisses the bridge of your nose. “Wouldn’t want you getting bored in there. You doing alright?” 

“I don’t see how it can get worse,” you manage. You know you must look awful, eyes red from withheld tears and face creased with pain. James’ brows hook sympathetically. 

“At least you’ll feel better in a few hours, yeah?” 

“Yeah,” Remus answers for you. He sets a palm on top of your head as he moves past you both to get the door. “We’ll have you all fixed up soon, dove.” 

[babyleostuff]

taking care of sick svt | ot13

❥ seungcheol 

turns into the biggest man child, he’s like your typical man with a cold - he thinks he’s dying and is one step away from writing down his will. other than his usual dramatics, he’s easy to take care of, because let’s face it - cheol lives for your attention, and he gets plenty of that when he’s sick. his pout stays on his lips 24/7, even when he doses on and off, most likely while you cradle him close to your body, because only then is he able to rest properly. 

❥ jeonghan 

is being sick really that bad when your attention is 24/7 on him? jeonghan would be more than fine to take care of himself on his own, the cold wouldn’t really bother him anyways, but your presence would change everything. he’d let you dote on him as much as you’d want - he’d know your worry comes from a place of love and he would not have the heart to tell you that he wasn’t feeling that bad. would turn into the biggest cuddle bug, and you’d most probably spend the day under a thick blanket in your bed, watching bad movies. 

❥ joshua 

would insist on repeating that he is definitely not sick, not until his fever makes him look like an angry red tomato, and all he does is sneeze and cough his lungs out. 10/10 patient, he doesn’t try to fight with you over the medicine, he isn’t whiny like cheol, nor does he have the attitude of a dying man from a simple cold. he listens to you (like a good boy). when you tell him to rest - he rests, when you tell him to eat - he eats, when you put another blanket around his shivering form - he lets out a content sigh. 

❥ jun 

tries his best to find some medicine for his fever, before he gives up, and calls you for help (turns out he took one of your painkillers you use during your period). a clueless bub, but he tries, keyword - tires, his best to take care of himself. one of the koala squad members that will low key glue himself to you, and follow you anywhere (not that you mind, you love it when jun gets so clingy). you’d spend most of your days on the sofa, and when you’d get bored of the silly reality shows you’d change the scenery to your bedroom, and put on an animated movie (jun falls asleep 0.001 second after the movie starts).   

❥ hoshi 

a child. a literal child. while cheol is a man child, hoshi is just a child. you’d have to chase after him with medicine, and a cup of milk with garlic to help his cough, but he’d run away the second you’d enter the room. doesn’t want to listen because, one - he’s not sick (he’s coughing like a demon possessed him), and two - he can take care of himself (he can’t). but when you tire him enough, which is quickly because, well, he’s sick and his energy isn’t as high as it usually is, he becomes such a polite cutie pie, and doses off the second you pull his fav blanket over him.

❥ wonwoo 

he’d insist that he’s fine because he wouldn’t want to be a burden to you. he’d go around the apartment coughing and sneezing, his cheeks clearly red from the fever - but would still insist that he was fine. it wouldn’t be until you’d drag him by force to your bedroom, place him under the blankets, yell at him (lovingly) that he could never be a burden that he’d admit that he wasn’t feeling that great after all. wonwoo would try not to show how happy he was when you took care of him, but it wouldn't work - the sparkly eyes, and small pout told you everything you needed to know. sick wonwoo is also a very clingy wonwoo, so get ready for a clingy cat that will follow you everywhere.

❥ woozi 

another member of the “i’m not sick, i’m fine, leave me alone. proceeds to almost die from a cough” squad. woozi will go about his day like he’d usually would, and by now you know there's no point in trying to get him back to bed. the only solution you have left is to follow him around the apartment or his studio to make sure he stays hydrated, and to remind him of taking the medicine. as much as he doesn’t want to make a big deal out of his sickness, he’s so so grateful for you, your presence, your comforting hugs and gentle pecks on his forehead, as you try to silently take care of him, without disturbing his work. 

❥ dk 

happily lets you take care of him, because according to dk, your hugs and small kisses on the forehead are the best cure for sickness. does anything you ask him to (which is mainly to lay down) without any questions, and it makes the whole process of getting him back on his feet so much easier. he spends most of his days resting, wrapped up securely in your arms, with his head right over your heart, dozing on and off, while you read or watch a movie or show with the volume turned down as not to disturb his sleep. in conclusion - seokmin is just a little cuddle bug that wants to be the little spoon.  

❥ mingyu 

a very clingy, very pouty, and very sniffly gyu would be stuck to you for the whole time. he’d look a bit comical - his already big body covered by at least two thick blankets would make him look low key scary (don’t tell him that, he’d do sad puppy eyes, and bury himself in your bedroom under even more blankets). when he’s sick it’s also the only time he’s cold, and he’s the one in need of more heat, so his shivering form would be glued to yours because he needs specifically your body heat. but other than being a human koala, he’s very easy to take care of. no complaints, no whines.  

❥ minghao    

if it wasn’t for the sneezing or coughing, and he’s slightly red cheeks, you’d start to question if he really was sick. minghao is born ready to fight the cold, sneezing, and coughing - he’s the master of homemade medicine, and life hacks that seem to repel the germs better than the actual bought medicine. as much as he wouldn’t mind your doting, he always silently thrives off of your affection anyway, but he’d never act like he was feeling worse than he did - he wouldn’t want to make you worried just to have your attention in him. 

❥ seungkwan 

it’s time for you to turn into a stay at home mum, because seungwan needs you (read - your attention). he can get a bit bitchy and whiny, especially about medicine, but it’s mostly because he’s not feeling well (and a sick boo seungkwan equals a cranky boo seungkwan), but you know better than get angry at him for fussing over the coughing syrup. to be honest, all seungkwan wants, is to crawl under the blankets with you (preferably with you running your fingers through his messy hair). 

❥ vernon 

you have to pull out your nursing degree with this one. the only thing vernon relies on when sick is google (which tells him he’s on the verge of death) (he only has a slight cold), and phone calls to his mum (he tried making a soup) (he failed). he’s very easy to take care of, though, mostly because he’s pretty much clueless, so he doesn’t question anything you do. nonetheless, vernon would try to help you out as much as he could - he wouldn’t want to be a burden (he could never). + another one that gets so so clingy when sick 

❥ chan 

our baby chan is such a strong and independent person, and he thrives off of taking care of his loved ones, so when he’s the one in need of help he has a bit of a hard time accepting it. he’d insist he’s fine, then he’d almost cough his lungs out, and still insist he’s feeling great (which earns a very disapproving look from you), and perfectly capable of taking care of himself. it’s not that he doesn’t want your help, he’d just be afraid you’d think he’s weak, and a baby for asking for help. you’d have to scold him, before urging his ass back to bed, and threatening him that you’d deprive him of cuddles for the next month if he ever even thought like that ever again. 

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[the-californicationist]

Bone Deep

AO3 Link -- MDNI -- TW: emotional hurt/comfort, make up sex

Your husband, John Price, has fallen into a pattern of behavior that seems to be moving him farther and farther away from you. But, you refuse to play second fiddle for long. 

You were drenched. It had been raining in such a way that made you think the Lord had gone back on his promise. Perhaps the rainbow had been painted just to placate you. Perhaps, you thought as you wrung out your hair on the porch, you would be drowned after all. 

It sure felt that way. Work had mounted up to the point of a fever-pitch. You had three projects due and one to revise. Not to mention, your husband had been home and yet almost fully invisible. 

John Price was back on something like leave, but he was never around. You saw evidence of his presence all over your floor and table and furniture. Socks, dirty plates, dead tablets, scraps of paper with Russian names scribbled on them... He was hunting Makarov in your kitchen and your hallway and your bathroom, and he was leaving that trail of breadcrumbs both literally and figuratively all over your house. 

You’d gone to bed alone for two nights in a row, and as you nearly tumbled over a pair of his sneakers in the foyer, caked in wet mud, you decided that it would not be three. 

“John?” You called out.

There was no reply, but a pale blue light shone under his office door. 

You popped open the latch and saw him hunched over the computer screen. 

“John.”

“Hm?” He responded, but he didn’t turn around. 

“John!”

“What?” He roared, spinning in his chair and glowering at you, shaming you for interrupting him.

“Okay,” you nodded, resigned. 

It would be a cold day in hell before you accepted that tone from anyone. You’d gone in there expecting to have a rational conversation, but your husband had raised his voice to you like you’d been a naughty dog. 

And you were absolutely not going to take that sort of treatment.

You made it to your bedroom in a quick three strides, pulling your overnight bag from under the bed. You shot your best friend, Cana, an SOS text. She lived two hours away, but you didn’t mind. You’d drive all night through the rain if it meant getting out of this prison that you used to call a home. 

Okay, maybe that was a little dramatic, but you had boundaries. Clear ones. And he knew he had crossed them. He just didn’t care. 

You started to pack as you fumed, tossing in a few days worth of clothes, your toiletry bag, the essentials. Then, the bedroom door clanged open, its handle slamming into the railing on the wall. 

“What’s this?” John waved a hand over your bag. 

“When I married you, I married a partner, not a ghost. The only reason I know you’re home is because you leave your fucking laundry for me to finish all over my floor. I’m not going to clean up after you like some maid. Then, you raise your tone at me, disrespecting me? No. When you’re ready to be my husband again, you know my number.”

He scoffed,

“All this bloody drama over some dirty socks?”

You stared at him in a way that told him just how serious you were. The silence between you stretched on for eons, expanding in all directions. You smiled, 

“You know it’s not the socks.”

The look in his eyes said: yes, I know it’s not the socks. But, his pride wouldn’t let him say the quiet part out loud. 

So, you left. 

Starting up the car was hard. Backing out of the driveway was harder. But, every mile you drove simply steeled your resolve. You knew his work was important, but you were important, too. You’d always be his wife, but you needed some space. 

You texted your boss when you made it to Cana’s house; you were taking a few days off. A night of tears and comforting hugs (and strong margaritas) passed, then a morning. Then, a night… and in the middle of it, you saw your phone light up. Despite the million other notifications you received every day, you knew it was him.

John: hey

You: hey

John: can i call

You: one sec

You sneaked out of bed, untangling yourself from Cana’s lanky arms, and lugged your phone out to the front porch. You were about to curl up on her big patio chair when you were stopped in your tracks at the sight of a big black truck idling in the driveway.

You sighed, standing there staring at your husband. He killed the engine and stepped down from the cab. As he approached you, looking up at you from the bottom of the stairs like a wide-eyed disciple, you noticed that his blue irises were ringed in pink, bloodshot and puffy. He hadn’t shaven, and he looked pale. 

But, even though you were still hurt, and even though he looked a little worse for wear, it was hard to ignore the carnal ache in your belly when you watched the muscles bulge and flex in his immense forearms as he crossed his arms in front of himself. The way his chest stretched out his black tee shirt, a tuft of fur peeking out of the crew neckline, the sleeves struggling to contain his round biceps. The way he chewed his full bottom lip when he had something important to say. It was enough to test your resolve.  

“Hey,” you said in a small voice, holding your arms around your body for comfort. 

Suddenly, those sharp eyes focused on you with rapt attention, and he stared right at you, speaking in a low, gravelly purr, trying to keep his voice down,

“I’ve been a proper arse.”

You tried to hold back a smirk. He continued,

“I took advantage of you. I’ve been hunting this fuckin’ bastard for so many years, and I’ve got him cornered. It’s all I can think about. Every night I think if only I was a little quicker, or maybe just bloody braver, I could stop him from killing more innocent people. I let him into our house. Into your life. And I shouldn’t have let my work come between us,” John’s expression softened, and he uncrossed his arms, hooking his thumb into his jeans pocket, “And I’m sorry.”

“Thank you,” you said quietly, still waiting for his next step. Being sorry was only part of it. 

“When you come home tomorrow, it’ll be different. I’m gonna pull my weight again. You have my word that I’ll only work when you work, and when you’re home,” he squared his shoulders, rocking his hips forward, nervous energy coursing through his body, “I’ll be home with you. I promise.”

You nodded, shifting your weight, staring down at your feet. Then, he called your attention with a caught breath and words that hurt you bone deep,

“You are coming home, right?”

You tried your honest best to fight the tears, but your body shuddered through a sob and you gasped in a sharp breath of air. He moved to hold you, to ascend the steps and repent, to be forgiven, but you held up your hand stopping him in his tracks,

“I won’t have you speaking to me like that, John. I won’t…” You thought about your words carefully, “I can’t be treated that way.”

“I understand, love. Believe me,” he chuckled, “I never want you to feel like that again.”

The way he rubbed his thumb across his sternum made your own chest hurt. He tried to approach you again, stepping up the wooden stairs, creaking under his weight, and he angled his chin up as if to kiss you. But, you stepped away, guarding your own heart for just a while longer. 

The hunger in his eyes followed you like smoke from a fire, warming you with its heat. 

“I’ll be home in the morning, John,” you said, turning to go back into the house. 

The next morning, as you packed, you thought about his promise. You hoped that you were heard. Truly heard and not just for a week of good behavior. You deserved to be respected, and you wouldn’t let your relationship with him become so one-sided again. 

When you pulled into your driveway, you expected to be greeted with the same dark, empty house. As you moved to pick your feet up over the usual mess of shoes, you discovered the foyer scrubbed to a high shine, and there was nothing to stumble upon. All the shoes were shoved into their little cubbies, and there wasn’t a dirty sock in sight. The living room was bright, clean, and John was standing in the middle of it, waiting for you. He took your bags, and scooped you up into a long, tight hug. 

You thought he might try to kiss you, but he didn’t. He just held you against him, breathing in and out, not letting go. Your face was buried deep in his chest, and you could smell his aftershave mixing with the strong scent of his cigars, and a slight musk that was all him. You wanted to feel his fur against your cheek. 

Suddenly, he grabbed your chin in his hand, making you face him, and he said in a dark, warm tone, 

“I’m gonna be the me that you need me to be. From now on. I swear it.”

You felt his soft lips touch yours, kissing you chastely, then deeper, chasing your taste, finding your tongue, licking along its length, savoring your mouth like a treat, cherishing every suck and nip and bite. 

“I missed you, John,” you admitted, feeling hot tears staining your cheeks, not realizing you were crying. 

He wiped them from your temples, smearing them into your skin, cradling your head in his hands so carefully as if you were made of glass. 

“I’ve been away. But, I swear, love. I swear, I’m back. I swear…”

His lips met your wet cheek and took your tears with them. 

“I swear…” 

He kissed your neck, holding your head in his huge paw.

“I swear…” 

You ran your hands over his neck, encircling him, tugging at his shirt, needing to feel his skin. He hooked his arms over his head and rucked the shirt off his back, tossing it on the couch. He pulled you into his lap as he sat down, sinking into the cushions, kissing you like you might disappear again. 

“I’m so sorry, love. Please forgive me,” John growled darkly, his deep voice rumbling between kisses. 

“Forgiven,” you said, forcing him to look at you.

Then, he put his forehead to yours and let out a deep sigh, closing his eyes and simply rubbing your back, trailing his hands over your hips, pulling you in closer to him. 

Tentatively, as if testing the waters of a deep well, you rocked your hips against him, seeing if you could get him to take the bait. If you had your husband back, you wanted to seal that promise with more than just a kiss. 

He groaned,

“Mm, I don’t deserve that.”

You repeated the motion, feeling the twitch of his fat cock inside of his jeans, and you narrowed your eyes at him,

“Sex isn’t a reward. It’s our connection, and I need to feel you. I need my captain back.”

He smiled, nuzzling your jaw, peppering your skin with little, chirping kisses, 

“Pretty girl… I missed you so much. What was I thinking?”

You shrugged, playing coy as you slipped off your leggings and set to undoing his buttons, opening the fly of his jeans to see the shock of dark hair and the swollen prize nestled in it, 

“I dunno. Maybe you just needed a reminder?”

As you teased him at your entrance, letting his head play in your wet folds, you began to sink down onto his shaft, spearing yourself onto his length, rocking back and forth with a tantalizing rhythm. 

“Mmngh,” he sighed, his eyes staring, transfixed on where your bodies reconnected. 

Finally, after some effort, his girth was fully sheathed within you, warmed and cradled by your soft heat. You began to lift yourself on your knees up and down, dragging all the way to his rosy head and then sliding all the way back down to those brown curls, enjoying the faces he was making against his will. 

However, he didn’t put up with your performance for long. Before you knew it, you were laying on the couch with your knees on your chest, taking every inch of his cock as deep as it would go. He had a gentle curve that, in this position, rubbed exactly where it needed to, pulling you along from one orgasm to the next like you were a kite, fully at his mercy and high as hell. 

Your mind swam with murky, unintelligible thoughts, and he fucked you harder and harder, pounding himself into you like a machine. Sometimes you forgot his strength… and his stamina. 

You whined a bit, your timbre changing from other-worldly pleasure to mild discomfort, and he picked up on it like a hound. He slowed, inspecting you, looking for the broken pieces. 

“You alright, missus?” He said, kissing you, thrusting shallowly now, checking in with you.

“Can we sit?”

“C’mere.”

John pulled you into his lap and continued his efforts, rocking himself back and forth, holding your body like a toy. Then, he snaked his hand between you, giving your clit something firm to rub against, and you felt the tingles begin to build inside of your belly, a coil tightening, a dam under pressure, a firework ready to burst. 

He was facing you, so you began to kiss him in a slow, supple way, letting your mouth fall open and your lips meet his with the lightest touch. John matched your energy, getting lost in your ritual, sending out the tip of his tongue to play and taste you again. 

He pulled away and licked his fingers before returning them to your folds,

“Mmf-fuck. You are so bloody good.”

“I want you to come in me, baby,” you confessed, resting your forehead on his, trying to catch your breath. 

You saw the surprise dance through his expression. 

“You sure?”

You knew it wasn’t something you allowed very often. You’d been off of your birth control for a few months, trying to give your body a break from the hormones. And even though you weren’t trying for a baby, that was always a dream that you shared. For John, it was the ultimate dream. 

“Yeah, I’m sure,” you nodded, kissing his smiling mouth.

“Oh, fuck me,” he growled darkly, gripping you around your waist, changing the angle to something wholly transcendent. How did he do it? How did he know where your body needed him to be? It was absurd. 

Everything was bright and glittering as you came around him, and you felt yourself squeezing his cock mercilessly, coming down his shaft in hot, thick coatings of creamy slick, unable to stop it from flooding out around him. 

He, too, was erupting. He gasped for air, grunting in loud, animalistic shouts, his whole face contorted into a pleasure-filled rage, pumping you full of his soft, warm cream, frothing it with his rough movements. 

Eventually, he flung his head back, holding you to him in a tight hug, his entire body moving and reacting without his input, fully on instinct. You held him back, clutching him against you like a lifeline.

You thought he would slip out of you once he was down from his high, but he didn’t. He simply held you to him, sweaty and desperate, letting himself soften inside of you. It was as if he didn’t want to leave. 

“Thank you, love,” he kissed you again, shuddering yet powerful. 

“It’s nice to have you home, John,” you smiled, letting his soft laughter warm your heart, basking in it like the sun. 

[emocheol]

sharing the bed with seventeen

how they sleep next to you

seungcheol

tucks you into his side and keeps you there all night

will not let you move, even if you complain that it’s too hot

his dramatic ass will say that he’ll die if he can’t sleep with you in his arms

pouts at you if you don’t go to bed at the same time as him

if you want to stay up later to watch tv he’ll stay up with you, falling asleep in your lap on the couch while you watch your show

“baby, just go to bed without me”

“i can’t get comfortable unless i’m with you”

jeonghan

a little shit

teases you whenever you want to cuddle up with him

but if you refuse to cuddle him he’ll pout until you cave

if you try sleeping away from him he’ll pull you over to him and smother you

loves to feel like he’s protecting you

always the big spoon, needs to be holding you instead of the other way around

“can i be the big spoon tonight?”

“no”

“but-!”

“absolutely not”

joshua

loves his personal space

literally cannot fall asleep if he’s touching someone, which he feels bad about

but at least he can sleep next to you!

will try to read you bedtime stories to make up for it

googles ‘best bedtime stories’ and ends up reading you goldilocks and the three bears

“why are you reading me a child’s bedtime story?”

“shhh we’re getting to the best part”

jun

blanket hog

you’ll have to sleep with an extra blanket next to your side of the bed so you can pull it on when you wake up in the cold

will claim that he’s not doing anything and you’re just imagining it

even when he hogs all the blankets he’s still searching for your touch

so, you might wake up cold but your hand is warm, engulfed in his

at this point you’ve stopped mentioning it to him so he doesn’t feel bad

plus the warmth of his hand is enough to show you he loves you

“i didn’t steal all the blankets again, did i?”

“nope”

hoshi

nuzzles his head in your neck

likes to be as close as possible

literally a baby tiger

so what if he feels safe in your arms? sue him

likes it when you talk about your day or tell him a story, your voice soothes him to sleep

“can you tell me the one about when you fell off your bike again?”

“honey, i’ve told you that story 10 times already”

“but it helps me sleep!”

wonwoo

surprisingly, is the little spoon

he’s sick of having to be so strong, loves being babied by you

gets sad when you go to sleep first, but he’s playing video games deep into the night, so who’s really to blame here?

but, will feel even worse if you stay up late just for him

“are you ready to sleep yet?”

“just one more round”

“fine, i’m going to sleep without you then”

“no, wait!”

jihoon

usually doesn't sleep until very late

is always working on producing and will even spend nights in his studio

when he comes home you're almost always sleeping already, he feels bad that he can't hold you and soothe you to sleep

but he opts for crawling into bed and holding you while you sleep

you'll subconsciously curl up into him, it always makes him smile

you constantly badger him about getting more sleep and he always promises that he will (he won't but he knows it eases your mind)

“when did you get back last night?”

“not too long after you fell asleep, don't worry”

(he came home after you'd been asleep for 5 hours)

minghao

doesn’t tell you that he does/doesn’t like cuddling

literally just doesn’t give you any information

some days you’ll wake up in his arms and then other days you’ll wake up about to be kicked off the bed

but, even if you wake up away from him when you try to get out of bed he’ll grab your arm and keep you there

“don’t leave me”

“i was just going to make breakfast”

“i said don’t leave me” :(

mingyu

smothers you

literally will not let you breathe

claims he needs to hold you to fall asleep, pouts if you don’t let him

you can try to put a barrier of pillows between you but you always wake up in a death grip

“you’re sleeping on the couch until further notice”

“i promise i won’t do it again!”

he does it again.

seokmin

cuddle bug ™

loves being close to you, absolutely obsessed with skinship

genuinely cannot sleep if he’s not holding you which is why it’s so hard for him to get sleep when he’s overseas

plays with your hair while you’re asleep

will not get out of bed without you, so he’ll just lay in bed and watch your sleep until you wake up

“have you been watching me sleep?”

“of course, i could never get bored of your beauty”

“you’re a sap”

“funny way of acknowledging that i’m madly in love with you”

seungkwan

big old teddy bear

sleeps peacefully as long as you two are smushed together in any kind of way

big spoon, little spoon, he doesn’t care if it’s with you

let’s you play with his hair, plays with your hair

he just loves you so much he’ll take whatever he can get

going to bed with you is his favorite time of the day

“kwannie? i’m tired, you ready for bed?”

“always”

vernon

very specific about how he sleeps

quite literally cannot sleep if he’s cuddling, also says it’s impractical

will link his pinky with yours or grab your hand in his sleep, though

if you wake up and get out of bed before him he’ll pout a little bit, he likes spending time in bed with you

your presence next to him is enough, even if you think you’re bothering his routine

“you sure i’m not messing up your sleep by being here?”

“i’d never not want to be with you”

dino

wants to be a cuddler but is a kicker

you can fall asleep in each others arms but you will be woken up by him kicking you and pushing you nearly off the bed

you’ll try and get back to a normal position with him but he will still kick you, making you grab a pillow and blanket and go sleep in the guest room

he’ll wake up to an empty and cold bed and feel absolutely horrible

will rush into your guest room and shake you awake

“did i do it again? :(”

“don’t worry about it, honey”