#it’s okay to make mistakes and not get shit done sometimes

[pollenallergie]

“do the hardest task first”

no. just… no.

hot take: this doesn’t work for people with adhd (in my experience/from what i’ve heard from other people with adhd in my life). i recommend doing the easy/moderately difficult stuff first, that way you can convince yourself that it’s all going to be this easy and undemanding. then hyper-focus will kick in because your brain is like, “yeah, we can do this, we’ve got this.” then, before you know it, you’ve completed both the easy tasks and the hard tasks while hyperfocusing.

like, on a serious note, it’s always been easier for me to convince myself to get the most difficult tasks done when i’m already working/in the working frame of mind, not when i’m laying in bed or sitting on the couch, mindlessly scrolling through stuff on my phone, and struggling to start at all.

if the choice comes down to you not starting at all or starting with the easiest task first (which, for me, it often does), always, always pick starting with the easiest task first. sometimes you need a small victory, a little bit of an accomplishment, to give you the courage to take on bigger challenges.

[iknowwhereyousleepatnight]

people begging me to do something to make a certain someone happy aren’t taking into account that i hate this person and i will revel in the knowledge that i kept them from getting the most perfect version of what they wanted. in fact i hope they mourn the loss of this for the rest of their life and die unhappy about it

[imunbreakabledude]

i'm so fucking sick of ToA already after like 15 runs in leagues. this does not bode well for doing it in the maingame lmao

[elegyofthemoon]

character opinion bingo Leo uwu

ngl the shit eating grin i got when i saw you sent leo lolol

tbh I would have circled so many HCs but I actually don't have that many... I think (never counted so I wouldn't know. Also I'm pretty sure I don't actually...have....any????? idk the brainfog is making it seem like head empty about this guy)

I have. Complex feelings about this guy. Do I like him? Yes. Do I want him to be bullied more? Yes. Do I think he's been through enough? Also yes.

[archangeldyke-all]

isha being non verbal it's so important to me because i also go non verbal sometimes and i can spent days like that so i got a request about it 🙂‍↕️

so, despite trying to learn sign language, i got some kind of made up sing language that i use to communicate with my sister and my parents, it's not the most pratical but they understand me so it's fine

i was thinking about reader that sometimes goes non verbal, an then her and isha made up a secret sing language that only them can understand and sometimes sevika it's being grumpy or jinx more annoying than usual and they use it to talk shit about them, at first sevika and jinx don't notice it but at some point they start to get at the fact they can't understand those sign and be like "hey whats happening here"

or maybe just something about sev and a non verbal reader, anything it's fine 🤗

this is just so sweet omg okay

men and minors dni

there are a lot of adjustments you have to make in your life when jinx and isha come tumbling into it.

for one thing, any semblance of privacy you and sevika once had is out the window. neither isha or jinx find the need to knock, no matter how much you beg them to.

never in your life did you think you'd be making a category in your monthly budget for toys-- but here you are.

adjusting to jinx's picky eating habits (mostly her refusal to eat anything that isn't spicy enough to kill an infant) has been a challenge, but over time you've managed to find several dishes that get her veggies in her.

but, luckily, you never had to adjust to isha's muteness.

you go mute sometimes. sevika's known this about you since you first started dating, and when she moved you into her home a few years down the road, she started taking sign language classes, just so she could communicate with you on your mute days.

it's the nicest, sweetest thing anyone's ever done for you. and now it's paying off doubly, because you and sevika get to teach your girls the language.

jinx, surprisingly, is the most excited about it. she's always asking you or sevika to teach her how to sign something, and for the longest time you just think it's another thing the girl's freakishly good at.

but then, one night, you walk by the girls' room and catch them whispering under jinx's covers, a flashlight illuminating their silhouettes as jinx gently walks isha through the new signs she learnt from sevika earlier in the evening.

at the time, isha had rolled her eyes and gotten frustrated, her little fingers not able to keep up with sevika's; and she ran away from the dinner table to color in the living room.

and now, here's jinx, taking the time to gently, slowly work her little sister through the motions, encouraging her with soft cheers and claps. isha lets out an excited little giggle, and you hear a loud, wet smooch ring out from under the covers. "you're doin' it kid!"

your heart clenches, and you sprint back to your bedroom to tell sevika about the adorable sight you'd just walked in on.

over time, with you and sevika's teachings and jinx's special encouragement, isha starts to sign more and more.

it's great. you get a better understanding of isha's personality now that she can communicate with you, and you're always shocked by the little girl's humor. she makes you laugh so much you've been going to bed with sore abs almost every day.

best of all though, are the days when both you and isha are mute and signing all day. it usually ends with the two of you coming up with some secret codes-- mostly born out of mistakes, some born out of jokes about your speaking family.

it leads to the two of you having your own little language.

when sevika's acting particularly grumpy, or hungry, or protective-- you or isha will catch each other's eyes and quickly sign a single word. 'bear'

when jinx is locked in on an invention even isha can't understand, answering isha's questions with single word sentences, scratching her head and humming to herself as she scribbles on her notebooks; isha will come find you and sadly sign 'jinx went monkey mode.' you'll just giggle and find something to do with the girl to keep her entertained as jinx works.

sometimes, isha will flash you a special waggle of her fingers-- something only the two of you know. it's her request for attention, a way for her to ask for a hug or some cuddles. it always makes something special burst inside you, and you're quick to wrap the girl up in your arms.

when isha gets tired of signing, her mind tired from communicating all day, you'll check in on her and she'll give you a gentle little flick of her hand-- her way of saying she's done talking for the day. you've started using the little sign on your own, when talking gets too overwhelming, you'll use it to tell your family that you want to sign.

so, some of you and isha's private language leaks out into your whole family's use. but, most of it stays special between the two of you.

...until you get caught.

sevika's practically hanging off of you as you make dinner, nuzzling against your throat and taking deep breaths of your scent; when isha comes running into the kitchen, singing for help to tie her apron.

you chuckle, pulling her up onto the counter in front of you and wrapping the ties of her apron around her waist, tying them into a little bow and giving her a kiss.

what's wrong with big mama? she asks, reaching out to tug a strand of sevika's hair. you chuckle, and sevika grunts, stirring on your shoulder.

bear. you sign back.

isha giggles and sevika grunts against you.

"what'd you just call me?" she asks. you freeze, and isha bursts into nervous laughter.

"nothin'." you say. sevika nips your throat and you squeak. "ah! nothing!" you squeal.

"you called me a bear?" she asks.

isha bursts into breathy giggles, her feet kicking with excitement as sevika slowly pulls away to glare at you.

"no?" you squeak.

sevika grunts, and then she flings you in the air.

isha bursts into squeals and you curse, scrambling to hold onto sevika as she tosses you around.

"i'll show you a bear!" she growls, grinning at the sound of isha's laughs. you can't stop screaming and laughing, and when sevika finally sets you down, she turns to isha with a glower. "you think im a bear?"

isha's cackling and shaking her head no, squirming as sevika reaches forward to start tossing her around.

you watch with glee as you wife throws you screaming, squealing kid in the air, both of them laughing between sevika's attempts at bear noises.

jinx stumbles in with a confused look, until she sees the way isha's laughing. she ducks under your arm, leaning against you.

"what happened here?" she asks. you snort.

"sevika figured out some of our secret language."

jinx chuckles. "how you guys call her a bear?"

"you knew!?"

"you aren't subtle." she says with a giggle as isha starts to karate chop sevika's back and shoulders. "i know about you two callin' me a monkey too." she huffs.

you cackle and kiss her forehead. "that was isha's nickname."

"figures. little shit." jinx says fondly.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@kissyslut @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @my-taintedheart

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen @annesunshiner

@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke

@lavandasz @strawberrykidneystone @sevikasfan @fict1onallyobsessed

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

TF141 reactions to "want me to paint your nails?"

PRICE has never been asked that question before

knee-jerk reaction is no. because he is a man.

but he knows better than that, too; it's just an assumption he was raised with and he's lived too long and seen too much to care about other people's judgement.

he leans over and watches you paint yours. seems harmless enough.

he allows you to paint one (1) pinky nail.

you do as neat a job as you can. very deliberate strokes. sliding one of your unpainted nails around the edge of his cuticle to catch a smudge.

you say "there you go :)"

he nods, seems pretty unaffected by the whole thing. just indulging you, it's a good captain thing to do. fun is allowed sometimes as a little treat.

if you catch him looking down at that one painted pinky nail in thought, in meetings, running his thumb over it in thought, no you didn't.

GHOST balks. acts like that's a stupid question. this is a lie.

even if you shrug and say okay, your loss, he feels kinda tingly about it in the stomach for a minute.

but if you were to just... maybe reach over and pull his hand in anyway, he wouldn't stop you.

he just lets you paint his nails. all of them. just sits there like it's not happening.

activates the monkey grooming part of his brain. not only are you doing a nice thing for him for no reason, you're touching him.

like, you're holding his hand almost. that shit is intimate.

his touch-starved ass starts having pavlovian reactions to the smell of nail polish after that.

GAZ says yeah. asks you to show him.

you lean in and show him the hand you're working on.

when you pull his hand over to do his, he pulls an uno reverse. flips your hand over in his.

plucks the nail polish brush out of your hand and starts painting the thumbnail of your non-dominant hand.

he's just doing it as an excuse to have your hand in his. he does not deny it when you point this out. no, he's not letting go.

his grip is secure. you protest and he counters by asking you how long it takes to dry. how many layers. if this is your favorite color. how to clean up that dot he just made on your fingertip.

he is so coolheaded about it that he flusters you the more you try to argue. you eventually have to just shut up and let him work. and answer his questions.

he is smirking.

after that, he makes a point to grab your hand whenever you're not wearing gloves and check your nails. if they're chipped, he quips it's time for him to fill you in.

SOAP says sure >:)

do not trust him. this is a mistake.

the minute you scoot over to pick his hand up, he yanks you over and wrestles you to the floor.

pot of nail polish? spilled. your freshly painted nails? ruined. done for.

you should've known. like this is seriously your fault. you know him.

he gets your nail polish on his fingers by accident. then happily smudges it wherever he can reach. 

he loves wrestling :) and playing too rough on purpose

eventually he will apologize for ruining your manicure.

helps you repaint them. you're awed when he does a better job than you could.

he has steady hands. part of his demo skillset. and he likes sketching, so

you don't have to clean up any of the nails he paints.

he even uses your detail brush to draw a little something on your accent nail to remind you of him. you think it's just something to make up for his bullshit, but now whenever he sees it (and that thumbprint of nail polish he left on the back of your shoulder and didn't tell you) he feels like he signed you <3

...

more multi-141 and poly 141 / masterlist tag

[sexilene]

I FEIN FOR A FULL FIC ABOUT PRINCESS!READER WRITTING IN HER DIRAY S'SO CUTE LIKE

yeesss OFC!! ignore any mistakes sorrriii ˚ ༘✶ ｡˚ ⁀➷ princess!reader w - mentions of sex, p in v, rafe making it up to you through sleepy sex!!

your nighttime self-care routine sometimes included needing to write in your diary the things you wouldn't dare say out loud. you sat on your side of the bed with the dim warm light illuminating the room while rafe took a shower. often doing all your skincare, shower stuff, and oral care before rafe so that after you can let it all marinate before sleeping. you grab your pink fluffy pen from your nightstand to start your journaling. 

dear diary, today was so totally not great, rafe ended up leaving me this morning to play golf with the boys even after he promised to take me to martino's to get some tea cakes that i've been craving for the past week!! AND on top of that, i missed a hair appointment since rafe had the car all day and he's like my boyfriend chauffeur!! this blows!! i hate him and he will not be given kisses or sex until further notice. 

rafe walks out of the bathroom, with a towel around his waist, his hair all wet, and droplets of water running down his muscles. the view almost makes you forget why you were pissed at him in the first place, but then you quickly snap out of it when you remember you are supposed to be "ranting" in your diary. 

"whatcha doin'?" rafe asks, making you look over at him, he's put on some comfy pajama pants and sat down on his side of the bed, leaning over to look at what you are writing. 

"i'm doing self-care, it's my de-stress diary." 

"why do you need a diary? that's what i'm here for, tell your secrets to me." he shrugs and leans closer to really read what's on the pages. 

"nuh uh, somethings i would say aren't lady-like." you bring the diary to your chest to prevent him from reading it. 

"hey, lemme see. i'm basically entitled to read your diary, it's a boyfriend's right."

"no baby that's just an invasion of privacy." you giggle which makes him huff.

"okay well we promised no secrets, so give it here." he reaches for the diary, you roll your eyes and give up, handing it to him. 

"fine, but i should not be held accountable for what i wrote, its girl stuff."

"aww shit baby, i forgot about martino's, i'm sorry," he remembers as he beings to read what you wrote. "no sex or kisses until further notice? that's fuckin' ridiculous kid." he furrows his eyebrows while he's reading. 

"mm-hmm, it's not like you'd notice anyways since you've been so "busy" recently." you exaggerate and roll your eyes.

"don't roll your eyes at me, fix your attitude." he points at you scoldingly which only makes you pout and reach for the diary again. 

"if you think you really need this then fine, but no more talking shit about me in there. use your words." he closes the little book and hands it back to you. 

"i did." 

"you know what i mean." 

"i can't say it to your face." you shake your head and place the diary on your nightstand. 

"yes, you can." he wraps his arms around you and pulls you closer to him, your back to his bare chest. 

"you smell really good." you sigh, wishing you could just give in and climb on top of him.

"thank you, baby. so do you." he kisses your bare shoulder, slipping down the thin strap of your silky nightgown. 

"but i'm still mad at you."

"rant to me then."

you sigh again, "you forgot that today was supposed to be our day, you suck and if you really loved me you wouldn't have done that." you exaggerate again. 

"i know princess, i know, and i'm sorry but i do love you so don't even start." your boyfriend chides, look back at him and he takes the opportunity to kiss the corner of your mouth. 

"no rafe, no kissing."

"don't be brat, i'll make it up to you. take you to martino's first thing tomorrow and i'll take you to do your hair, how'bout i fuck you to sleep nice n' slow right now? hmm?" he places his hand on the side of your face to bring you closer so he can press a kiss to your cheek. 

"mmhm ohkay, be gentle." you nod, rafe just grins and attacks you with soft kisses all over your lips, jaw and neck.

"just relax baby, lay down i'll do all the work." rafe extends his arm to reach over to your nightstand light to turn it off, now the only light coming in is the moonlight streaming in through the balcony windows. you lay back against the mattress, head hitting the pillows and rafe lifts the thin dress above your hips. never really wearing panties under your nightgown while you sleep, he rubs your bare pussy with the pads of two of his big fingers. rafe pulls himself out, also not wearing any boxers under the plaid pajama pants to sleep, and lines himself up to slowly push in, you wine and dig your nails into his biceps. 

"shshsh....you're fine." your boyfriend soothes as he begins to slowly and gently stretch you out, giving you a few wet kisses on your neck. the way he smells and feels on top of you makes you feel so warm and sleepy, that your eyes begin to fall closed as he thrusts into you very softly.

"i love you," you whisper, wrapping your arms around his neck to make you feel closer to him even though he's balls deep inside you right now. 

"i love you more princess, jus' fall asleep, i've got you."

[cherrychilli]

18+

AFAB reader, soft dom Steve, outercourse, P in V sex, morning sex, unprotected sex

Fat cock Harrington but it’s just the tip. This is a softer take on the trope but I do have a Perv! Steve version in mind for a future drabble.

A/N: the writer’s block has been pretty severe up in here so please be kind. Too many ideas but the words just aren’t wording, you know? my drafts are mountainous at this point but I am beyond delighted to have finally finished one of them and I hope I’ll be able to get the rest done too.

Divider by roseschoices

The sheets must have slipped off you again, a result of the way you sometimes moved around in your sleep. Or maybe they’d been tugged off this time? You suspected the latter when you roused to the feeling of his palm smoothing over the curve of your bare hip, fingers squeezing lightly when he saw your eyes begin to flutter open.

He’ll be leaving for work in an hour, you realize, when you spare a quick glance at your alarm clock, pushing back slightly to feel his hardened cock against your ass.

“Mm, gotta have you angel. Can I?”, Steve’s voice comes out low, still heavy with sleep and something more as he rests his chin on your shoulder, fresh stubble rubbing against your cheek.

The two of you are still naked from the night before, the bruises you’d both lovingly and desperately made on each other’s bodies still deepening in color and here he was, eager to be inside you again so soon.

“You’re insatiable”, you tease in an equally sleep riddled tone but show your interest by grinding against his cock again. The friction earns you a groan and another squeeze on your hip.

“Please? 'Couldn’t forgive myself if I didn’t fuck you one more time before I left”

You’re too sleepy to roll your eyes but you manage a lazy giggle instead, finding Steve's particular brand of begging oddly endearing. “Fine. Wouldn’t want you beating yourself up over it”, you huffed playfully, giving him permission to let his fingers roam lower.  

"You're perfect", he thanks you in praise, teeth gently nibbling your earlobe. His fingers skim over your curls and ghost over your clit, detouring from the bud down to your still swollen folds. When he parts them it’s as if the rest of your body has been shaken awake, finally feeling the effects of last night when an ache of a different kind makes itself known between your legs.

The feeling isn't enough to alarm you nor does it make you want to stop, thinking little of the noticeable but weak throbbing until he attempts to work a finger inside. It's then that your core protests with a pain that's mostly dull but still unpleasant enough that your shoulders twitch and your thighs snap together by reflex, inadvertently trapping his hand there.

Steve mistakes it for jolt of pleasure at first until he hears the pain behind your whining and feels the urgency with which your fingers wrap around his wrist.

“Too sore”, you yelp, voice small and tone verging on wounded but you're able to slump against his chest with relief when he pulls his fingers away quickly.

“Shit, baby I’m sorry. Are you alright?”

He's quick to try and soothe you and your thighs clench again, this time for a better reason when he cups a hand over your cunt, his warm, gentle touch quelling the ache he didn’t mean to agitate.

“Yeah, I’m okay”, you assure him as the throbbing subsides, humming appreciatively at the way he's holding you.

This has happened before. The result of when things turned a little rough in the bedroom.

The back curving orgasms and euphoric tears streaming down your face as he fucked you into the mattress always came first, the aching reminder of it all following the morning after.

But you never regretted it.

And it's never stopped you from getting off before.

“Still want you to use me”, you offered with a meaningful look over your shoulder and the boy realizes what you're referring to - something you usually let him do whenever you wanted to feel him but couldn’t handle having him inside you yet.  

“Yeah? Sure you want it?”, he asks sweetly, full of genuine concern for you but you're able to pick up on a hopeful lilt that slips through too. You didn't blame him, reminded of the need he feels for you when his cock twitches against your ass.

You nod, sure that as long as there was no penetration the pain wouldn’t flare up again.

“Yeah, I do" you answered, showing him how much you wanted it too when you placed your hand over the one he had on your sore cunt, grinding softly against his palm with a pleased whimper. "But be gentle, okay?”

"Promise", he leans forward to place a kiss on your cheek before shifting positions.

You smile up at his halo of mussed up chestnut hair when he hovers over you, gently rolling you on to your back. The early morning chill that seeped into your shared bedroom usually had you pulling the sheets up to your chin and pressing yourself up against your boyfriend for some extra warmth but now, laid bare underneath him, you feel as if you might perspire from the mounting tension.

You remember to lift your hips when he reaches for a pillow, allowing him to slide it underneath you before spreading your legs to accommodate him.

Seeing the glistening arousal between your legs makes Steve's head feel pleasantly fuzzy, spitting into his palm and working it onto his turgid cock with a few quick strokes.

“Tell me if it hurts, okay?”, he makes sure to add, guiding his cock to slot it between your your puffy folds, resting his flushed tip against your clit.

"Okay", you breathe out, the word very nearly tapering into a needy whine because you're already feeling the urge to nudge your hips forward and make his length rub over your clit just right.

When he does roll his hips you're reminded of just how sensitive he's left your bundle of nerves from the night before, clit pulsing from the gentle, languid motion of his cock sliding over it.

"C'mon, tell me what's going on in that pretty head. My girl feeling alright?", he coos down at you, making sure to scan your face for any signs of discomfort.

Steve's relieved when your expression turns blissful, the softest gasp escaping your parted lips like a secret meant only for him. "Mm, so good...keep going".

The look on your face encourages him to become a little bolder, thumb coming down to keep his shaft pressed firmly against your folds and the weight of it on your delicate core makes you curse with pleasure.

“Woke up hard this morning because of you, you know? y ’had me dreaming about this pussy all night”, he grunts out, canting his hips forward the slightest bit faster, careful not to overdo it in your tender state.

Another bolt of pleasure strikes and settles warm inside your belly, curling your fingers around his shoulders, eyes half lidded but fixed on his own.

"Fuck, Stevie it's so sensitive - feels amazing", you sigh high and pretty for him.

"Making such a mess already. All this for me?", hazel eyes flicking down to tease the fresh, creamy slick that's dripping out of you and clinging to his cock.

Part of you wants to argue back that some of the steadily growing mess is of his own doing, spying the dewy precum that beads at his slit but you're a little too caught up in the feeling coiling inside you to manage a quip right now.

You liked it when he rut against you this way, each thrust stimulating your puffy clit closer and closer to the edge, but rivaling your own pleasure was the satisfaction you felt when you watched him reach his own peak like this.

Knowing you could make him cum without even letting him inside you made every soft moan he spilled sound sweeter and the pink dusting his cheeks seem that much prettier - like you'd earned it the hard way.

Your favorite part was watching him still after you'd reached your own climax, cockhead pressed right up against your needy clit before it erupted with his release. You'd cry out every time the pearly, viscous spend spurt against your pussy in hot ropes, collecting on your skin and the matted curls on your mound.

Things seemed to be heading for the same conclusion this time round too, at least you had intended for it when you asked him to use you. But with the way he's working you up with every filthy word and knowing he wouldn't be able to lie in bed with you afterwards, all satisfied and spent, you were starting to change your mind.

A reminder of the discomfort you felt when he'd tried to finger you still fresh in your mind but feeling so, so terribly empty, you weren't able to ignore the other thought that blared in your head. That if he angled himself just the slightest bit lower, he might be able to slip in and make that lonely, empty feeling go away.

You wanted that stretch again, even if it hurt.

"Wanna try taking it inside again”, you blurt out, tears starting to blur your vision.

Maybe you should have considered a softer approach. One that wasn't so blunt, feeling a twinge apologetic when his hips stutter and his Adam's apple bobs in his throat with a thick gulp.

You knew you shouldn't spring these things on poor Steve. Least of all when he's got you naked underneath him. The boy was weak for you to the point that an admission like that could risk having him cum on the spot.

The conflicted look on his face was expected. What you were asking for was different from the night before, a night although filled with plenty of manhandling and welcome roughness, hadn't consisted of anything that had pained you. Not in any way that had you calling out your safe word at least.

"I don't know...”, he starts but trails off, looking positively torn when you begin to whine and buck your hips, folds dragging along his cock.

"Please, Steve? 'just wanna try...you'll be gentle with me wont you?"

The vein at his temple is noticeable now, jaw clenching too.

"No fair, baby...going all sweet on me like that", he strains, resolve crumbling.

You pout, so close to swaying him.

"Just once more. Promise I'll tell you if it starts to hurt, okay?"

His expression shifted as if considering. He hated saying no to you. Especially when your eyes filled such unbridled want.

"Fuck, alright".

You mumble thank you's against his lips when you pull him in for a quick kiss, legs spreading wider for him as his tip slips down to press against your entrance. There's more to take in this time but you're so much wetter than before - so eager to take as much of him as you can.

Anticipating the sting that comes when he begins to breach your hole, you chant softly for him to keep going, face pinching up in pain briefly when resistance gives way and the head of his cock finally pops inside.

Your sore walls protest at first with a dull gnawing, a bearable pain but still the kind that had you holding your breath until you could settle again.

Steve remains like that in place, not pushing in any further, hand rubbing considerately at your waist. He waits patiently for you to adjust - waiting for you to release that breath you've been holding and tell him how you're feeling.

“Don’t think I can take any more”, your voice comes out in a waver, a shaky breath coming after it.

Clouded by his concern for you, he interprets your comment as a cue for him to pull out. "I'm sorry, lemme just-" and you can feel him begin to withdraw from you carefully.

"No wait"

He stills again, afraid he's hurt you until you bend your knees and press your heels into the mattress to anchor yourself. The throbbing begins to subside and Steve's jaw falls slack when he sees you roll your hips, fucking yourself on the head of his cock.

“My god, baby" he manages to choke out, disbelieving despite having his eyes trained on the way your folds suck him in, the fat head of his cock sinking in and out of you wetly.

Your eyes fall to where you're joined too and you can see the veins bulging along his shaft, missing the way they felt inside you but with how sensitive you are, you feel impossibly full already.

"Steve, please", you sob, the sound of you all eager and aching prompting him to take over.

You're rewarded when pushes in, cock dragging over a tender, neglected spot sitting at an angle you couldn't reach on your own. It's a slow, but intensely passionate pace the two of you fall into, nothing but the wet sounds of your joined bodies and pleasured moans filling the room.

You almost worry that it's not enough for him. While you feel like your almost bursting at the seams in the best possible way, he's only managed to work around two inches of his dick inside you at this point, the rest of him missing that vice grip of your plush, silky walls.

That worry increases tenfold when he pulls out, only to have him push the unfounded concern out of your mind altogether when he wraps a hand around the the throbbing length, tapping the head glistening with your arousal on your clit. "I'm getting close", he admits hoarsely before pushing back in again, this time with more ease and far less pain than the first.

The way your walls give way for him has you keening, the pleasure pain combo at equal levels now.

“Yeah? Too much for you isn’t it, crybaby?”, he thumbs at your cheek and you begin to register the hot tears streaming down your face, earning you the nickname.

You nod fervently but your hips keep bucking, pace hurrying.

“Oh? Want more?”, he asks, half as a taunt, half in awe.

"Faster, please do it faster", you beg.

"Yeah?" he picks up the pace, fucking into your poor sore pussy as far as you can handle. "Gonna cum like this baby? already crying on my cock even though it's just the tip?"

"Oh god- Steve I'm getting close", you warn, back arching, fists gathering damp sheets.

"Fuck, so sore and you're still taking it like a good girl"

“Play with my clit”, you cry and he does, hand dropping to find the sensitive bud. A gentle puff of breath against your clit could have tipped you over the edge at this point, so when he rubs circles into it the force of your orgasm surprises you both, your cunt forming a tight seal around his tip when he bursts too, flooding you full.

There's no way he's clocking in to work on time today.

[tribalchief2112]

Make up

Warnings: 18+ Smut

Word count: 2.2k

Not proof read, sorry for any mistakes

First time writing smut 🌚🌚🌚

Zilla Fatu x Nyla Blake (Black OC)

____________________________________________

I rolled out the dough for my cinnamon buns as Jhené Aiko sang gently, echoing out of the speaker. For the first time in a while i felt peaceful: there was no one to bother me, no one to disrupt my happiness and no one in my space. My boyfriend Isayah, or better know as Zilla Fatu had gotten into an argument just over a week ago and I had been ignoring him ever since, after his questionable actions.

I felt like he had been putting more time and effort into wrestling rather than our relationship and I know it sounds selfish but it was truth. We both had pretty hectic schedules, with him training almost every day and me working at the hospital until the early hours of the morning, sometimes we were never able to see each other but I tried to make it work, I tried to put in the effort.

When I got in from work at 6am, he’d be leaving out to head to the pc. He’d rush past me hurriedly, placing a kiss on my cheek then practically running out the door, hardly acknowledging my presence. This cycle had been going on for weeks and became even worse when he went away for 3 weeks. I’d check in on him everyday, asking how training went, making sure that he was all okay in general. All I got back from him was dry two word answers. This break really made me question our relationship and when he finally got back I snapped. We got into a heated argument and ever since then i’d been giving him the silent treatment.

He’s been trying everything to get me to speak to him but I refuse to break until I receive a true heartfelt apology, which I knew wasn’t coming anytime soon.

Not even 2 minutes later, my peace and quiet evaporated into thin air as the front door slammed shut, letting me know that Zilla was home. With my back to him, I made sure not to acknowledge his arrival as he threw his bag in the closet and made his way to the kitchen, taking a water bottle out the fridge. I turned up the music and went back to my baking, spreading the cinnamon sugar all over the squared dough.

I felt him standing behind me, his eyes burning a hole through my skull. Nevertheless, I continued rolling the buns into a cylinder getting ready to cut them up. Before I could grab the knife, I felt his warm body come up behind me, forcefully pressing me into the counter as him arms snaked around my waist while he placed kissed against my neck. I felt my restraint slow slipping away as he grip tightened and he pressed into me further, causing my breathing to shallow and head to fall back.

Before he went to far and I lost all sense of composure and self respect, I shook him off my and went back to what I was doing, making sure to move to another part of the kitchen. Zilla sucked his teeth, following me over. ‘‘Why you still mad at me ma, can’t we fix this shit?’’ he questioned as his eyes pierced the side of my face. ‘‘We can’t fix shit until you apologize Isayah,’’ I mumbled, turning away from him.

‘‘What I gotta apologize for, I ain’t did nun wrong,’’ he spoke as the anger in his tone grew. I stared at him quizzically, wondering if what he said was a joke before a laugh fell from my mouth. ‘‘Are you fucking kidding me Isayah? You haven’t done anything wrong,’’ I questioned in disbelief. ‘‘For the past three fucking months you’ve neglected our relationship, neglecting me. You don’t make time for us any more especially when you’re away, you don’t even look at me.’’

‘‘Nyla cmon that ain’t true. How you gon’ stand there tryna tell me ion make time for you?’’ Zilla responded back, a sharpness in his tone. ‘‘Because it’s the truth Zay, all you do train then when you get back here it’s like… it’s like i don’t exist no more.’’ I shouted back as I felt the tears pooling in my eyes. ‘‘I don’t have the energy for this Zilla, just leave me alone.’’ I huffed with a deflated tone.

He stared at me for what felt like hours before he scoffed and went upstairs. Once I heard the shower turn on, I finally continued my task, cutting the cinnamon buns and setting them in a dish so they could rise. I tried not to let my talk with Zilla longer on my mind but it was so hard, all I wanted was to fix things so we could go back to normal.

After cleaning the kitchen, I went upstairs to our room to sort out my hair. It’d been sat in two braids for the past week and definitely needed some tlc. So I sat at my vanity, sectioning my hair into 4, soaking it with my spray bottle and added the moisturizer all throughout my hair making sure to finger coil some strands around my face. Before I had the chance to finish, the door to the en suite fell open as Zilla walked out with a towel round his waist.

I kept my focus on my hair as he padded around our room searching for his clothes. I frantically finished my hair then went back down stairs to the living room, not wanting to be in his presence.

As the night stretch on, me and Zilla kept our distance, him residing in our bedroom while I sat in the living watching whatever show I could find. My phone vibrated next to me, letting me know it was time to take the cinnamon buns out the oven. I jumped up from the couch and took them out, letting the beautiful smell flood the house. As I went over to the fridge to get the cream cheese frosting, yet again I felt a cold hand snake around my waist. Zilla held me tight against his body as he placed kissed up and down my collar bone.

‘‘Ma you know i’m sorry, just let me make it up to you,’’ he spoke inbetween kisses. ‘‘Just because you claim you’re sorry doesn’t change anything Isayah, you need to show me.’’ I said gasping for air.

‘‘What you want me to show you Ny?’’ he asked as his hand moved down to my shorts, moving them out the way to rub my clothed pussy. ‘‘Damn she already wet fa me. She missed me that much babe? Did she miss this dick?’’ Zilla teased as his hand slid my panties out the way, rubbing his two fingers along my slit before teasing my clit. The restraint I’d worked so hard to build slipped away before my eyes as I writhed against him, feeling his dick against my back side.

‘‘Zilla’s gonna make it up to you ma, I promise,’’ he spoke eagerly as he spun my around and threw his lips onto mine, engulfing me into a bruising kiss as my arms wrapped around his neck pressing against him. His hands traveled to my ass as he picked me up, carrying me to our room.

When we got to the room, he tossed me onto the bed as a ravenous look fell upon his face. Our heavy breathing filled the room as he dropped to his knees, pulling me to the edge of the bed removing my shorts and panties. He moved his head closer, his hot breath fanning against my pussy before his tongue darted out licking up my slit, taking my clit into his mouth.

My back arched off the bed as my hands made their way to his hair, tangling my fingers within it as I moaned in pleasure. Strained moans fell from my parted lips as my hips grinded against him chasing my nut. ‘‘Mhmm, you so wet for my baby, yo shit leakin down yo thighs. I missed my pussy so much, did she miss me?’’ He asked, lust laced in his voice as he added a third finger making me squeal.

‘‘Uuhuh Zay. Fuck. She missed you so much baby. Don’t stop baby please.’’ I continued to moan as tears fell from my eyes. My body felt like it was on fire as Zilla continued to demolish my pussy, fingers moving rapidly as he suckled my clit non stop.

‘‘Say my name baby, say my name before I let you nut. Let everyone hear who’s makin you feel good right now.’’ He mewled before adding a third finger causing a scream to rip from my lungs. ‘‘Isayah I… I can’t. Please baby I need to come.’’ I shrieked as my legs began to shake around his neck. ‘‘Ny say my name before I stop, you wanna come don’t you baby?’’ He teased. ‘‘What’s my name.’’

‘‘D-Daddy,’’ I screeched as I felt my orgasm rip through my body, causing my legs to shake rapidly as Zilla lapped up all my cum in his mouth, not missing a drop. ‘‘You’re such a good girl baby, cumming all in daddy’s mouth like that. Look at my pussy leakin n shit,’’ he laughed loudly.

‘‘Whatchu want now baby. Tell daddy want you want and make it happen,’’ as he hand gripped my neck, carefully squeezing it as his hand went back to rubbing my clit. I reached my hand out to pull his shorts down but he slapped my hand away immediately. ‘‘Use your words girl, let me hear you say it,’’ humor laced in his voice. ‘‘Fuck. I want your dick Zay please, I need it,’’ I moaned as he kissed me again moving around to take off the last remnants of my clothes as well as his.

My hazy eyes watched him intently as he lined his dick up against my pussy, rubbing it along my slit collecting my juices. I couldn’t wait any longer, I wrapped my legs around his waist trying to pull him closer but he just laughed at me as his free hand reached out for my ankles. ‘‘Look how needy you are baby, you missed daddy’s dick a whole lot huh? Imma show you what you been missing out on, imma do you just right Nya,’’ he exclaimed as he slammed into to me harshly, placing my legs on his shoulders so he could slam against my g-spot. My eyes rolled into the back of my skull as the relentless pleasure engulfed me completely.

Loud uncontrollable moans fell from my mouth as he pounded my pussy, let his hand travel to my neck again adding slight pressure. ‘‘Look at the mess you’re making on my dick baby look at it. This what I do to you ma, this how I make you feel? Good fucking pussy right here,’’ he spoke as moans slipped from his mouth. As I clenched around him, he moaned deeply into my neck as his hips slammed against me erratically. ‘‘Fuck Ny, you gripping me so good, I love this pussy, I love you,’’ he hummed into my neck as his hips snapped up yet again.

The pleasure over took me once again as my legs shook, falling back down around his waist, nails clawed up his back and teeth but down into his shoulder, trying to quiet my moans as gushy sounds echoed throughout the room. ‘‘Don’t hide from my ma, let me here you when you cream on my cock baby, let everyone hear how good I make you feel,’’ Zilla smirked as his hand darted down to my clit, rubbing it gently.

The familiar knot in my stomach began to grown again as I reached out to his torso, trying to push him away as it all got to much. My efforts failed drastically as he pinned my hands above my head, pounding into me desperately chasing his orgasm. ‘‘Don’t run from my now Ny, you wanna act like a big before so you gon take this dick like a big girl now. Tryna scratch up my shit and push me away. Uhuh. I wanna feel you baby,’’ He spoke as his hooded eyes stared me down intently.

Before I knew it, he exploded inside of me, his hips moving uncontrollably as my orgasm rippled through me, causing my eyes to roll back and tears to fall once again. Zilla collapsed ontop of me as we both road out our highs together. I went to wrap my arms around his back but he flinched slightly, remembering the marks that I left on him. ‘‘Shit baby, you tore up my back bad,’’ he laughed as he pulled out of me, both of his flinching at the emptiness we both felt.

Later on, we got into the shower, changed the sheets and got under the covers. ‘‘I am sorry for how i’ve been acting Nya, we gon talk it out properly in the morning. That cool?’’ He asked, hesitation laced within his voice. ‘‘That’s fine Zay, just promise you’ll work on your actions.’’ I pleaded with him as tiredness over took me. ‘‘ I promise you Nyla.’’ He said. And with that, we both drifted off to sleep.

————————————————————————

Hope guys liked it, pls lmk 🙈

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

hi! is there any chance you could write a scenario for spencer with a plus sized reader? love your writing!

༉‧₊˚. 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 || 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

― pairing: spencer reid x plus size neighbor!reader

― summary: every day you and spencer talk to each other on your balconies, but you want more, and spencer is more than happy to - albeit shyly - oblige.

― warnings: mentioned/referenced marijuana usage, the reader smokes cigarettes, reader with a potty mouth, a tad bit of emotional hurt/comfort but not really, mutual pining, polar opposites, opposites attract, black cat and golden retriever vibes, neighbors to lovers, balconies as the main plot point of this fic somehow, fluff, the fluffiest fluff to ever fluff :[

― wc: 1208

⋆ a/n: okay would you believe me if i told you that this was not only supposed to be a drabble, but was also for a whole other request entirely? 😭 i really got lost in the sauce that was this fic and i really hope you enjoy because this is probably my favorite work that i have done in a while :]

masterlist | AO3

This has got to be a skill issue.

Maybe it was because of his job, but Spencer often finds himself attracted to danger – or most of the time danger finds him.

Now technically speaking, there’s nothing dangerous about you, but just one look at you and everything just screams trouble; you’re covered in tattoos, and you always seem to smell like a mixture of your perfume and whatever you bathe with along with a hint of weed and cigarettes. 

You’re sarcastic, witty, and above all else, you’re beautiful. So beautiful that sometimes Spencer feels the breath get stolen from right out of his lungs. You wouldn’t have to be doing anything, just hanging outside on your balcony shrunk into your lawn chair early in the morning, the sun hitting your sleep-ridden face, a cigarette hanging delicately between your fingers.

Your first meeting hadn’t been ideal, but it truly was an honest mistake.

You had a large gathering inside your apartment when you had first moved in, metal music and music along that genre blasted through the thin layers of the wall separating your respected spaces.

Spencer couldn’t sleep, tossing and turning in his bed. He thought that maybe once it had hit later on in the night it would quiet down, but it had been just as roundy as it was in the afternoon. He had willed himself to get up, mentally preparing himself for an unpleasant conversation that would no doubt be unfriendly.

He hadn’t been expecting you to open the door with a beer dangling in your hand, perching yourself against the door frame with crossed arms.

From what Spencer could see from behind you, there was quite a crowd of people dispersed about. A wave of liquor and marijuana infused air hit his nose and tried his best to keep himself from grimacing, but you had caught it.

“Hey uh-” Spencer was strangely intimidated by you, by your dark beauty and his hands came together, fingers picking at a hangnail nervously. “I live next door and um- would you mind uh… keeping the music down?” 

A flash of guilt graced your features for a moment before you spoke. “Oh shit, sorry man, yeah totally, no problem. Sorry about that.” You gave him a once over before smirking. “What’s your name?”

And after that, the rest of your friendship was history; sometimes he’d catch you coming up the stairs as he’d leave his home to run an errand, or he’d run into you getting your mail.

It was a slow building friendship, but it was one that he was happy he was able to make, because he really really did not want to have a rivalry with a neighbor. The feelings came later though, but maybe they had always been there.

The mornings when Spencer had a day off had a different kind of air to it, one that allowed him to feel at ease, relaxed. He had been deep in thought as he stared out at the quiet, empty street below him when he heard the sliding glass door of your apartment open, and there you were, tumbling out groggily.

You had stepped out with a cup of coffee, much like him in a way; you had a severe case of bed head, your black tank top and sleep shorts did nothing to hide the curves of your body as well as the art that painted your skin like an ethereal canvas.

You were drowsy, he could see it in the bags under your eyes and the frown that you normally adorned after a long night at the diner you worked at.

Maybe it was weird that he was watching you, but there was nothing more that he enjoyed than seeing you in your natural element.

You traded your coffee for the carton of cigarettes on the small table you had outside, slipping one of them safely between your lips before attempting to light it to no avail. He could hear you struggle with the cog before huffing and tossing the lighter on the glass table with a small ‘piece of shit’.

“Maybe it’s a sign.” Spencer called out from where he stood. There was no need to shout, seeing as though there was only a couple of inches separating your patios.

You threw a look at him, a lazy smirk dancing on your lips as you tucked the stick of tobacco behind your ear.

“Oh yeah? A sign of what?” You egged on. You rested your arms on the railing that faced his left side. “A sign that you should quit.” You scoffed. “No, it’s a sign that I should stop letting my friends swap their shit out for mine and pretending I don’t notice.” 

That pulled a chuckle out of Spencer, the man lifting the coffee to take a leisure sip of before continuing. “Long day at work last night?” He inquired.

You sighed, burying your fingers in your hair before dragging your hands down your face roughly.

“You could say that. I feel like my job does shit just to fuck with me, because every table I was given had people that were total fucking assholes.” You groaned, “Plus most of them didn’t even fucking tip! It’s like God Spence, I’m just about to fucking quit and get paid minimum wage somewhere else.”

Spencer feels a pang of sympathy in his gut. “I’m sorry to hear that.” He says with a frown. You just wave him off. “No, no. I’m sorry. It’s too early for my bitching.”

“I…” He begins with a gulp, “I don’t mind your bitching.” He adds with a sheepish grin. You laugh, and the sound is almost like bells in his ears. “You’re too sweet to me, Spence.” He gives you a noncommittal shrug, hiding his quickly reddening face behind another sip of his coffee.

“You’re off today right? What’re your plans?” You ask. You retreat for a moment before grabbing your own mug and taking a sip. There’s a slight grimace on your face, “God this tastes like shit.” You mumble beneath your breath.

“Nothing much if I’m going to be honest.” Spencer hadn’t really thought about what he wanted to do. He mostly planned on having a lazy day that was made up of tv show reruns, his new book he had bought and a nice dinner.

“There’s some grocery shopping I need to do, so you’re welcome to come with me if you want.” You say before you can stop yourself. You can feel nervous butterflies flutter around in your lower belly. You had never gone out of your way to invite the genius out anywhere, but you yearned to spend time with him.

It’s not like you guys don’t hangout, but it mostly consists of domestic conversations like these, speaking to each other from your balconies either during the morning or at night.

There’s no hiding the redness that completely overtakes Spencer’s face, his gaze falling for a moment before meeting your eyes.

“That sounds great.” Spencer says sweetly, and he really hopes his voice isn’t as breathless as it sounds.

“Cool.” You feign nonchalance by taking a hefty drink out of your mug.

“Cool.” Spencer reiterates with a small smile on his face.

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @their-love @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy @phoenixblack89 @celtic-crossbow @hallecarey1 @bunnybabe-babydoll @alixwriter @dixonzzgirl @violettavirus @khxna @moonysreid

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

The Stirrings in the Junkyard

Summary: A one-shot set during season 2. Eddie was hanging out in the junkyard when he caught sight of a side of Steve Harrington that no one had ever seen before, and it caused quite a stir in Eddie's secret romantic heart. Also, with a side of monsters.

Eddie was just minding his own business, really. Here he was, late at night, sitting in a junked out old car that he turned into a little fort. Wayne's trailer was occupied tonight. . .their trailer was occupied tonight. He was still getting used to calling it that since he moved in a few months or so ago. Well, officially anyway, he's lived there on and off the last few years since he was eight. It wasn't until his goddamn house burned down due to his own stupid decision-making skills and his father's that he had to move in with Wayne. Not that he was complaining. He loved Wayne. He just missed that house sometimes, the house his mom had picked out herself. He sighed and tried to get the image of his mother's records going up in smoke out of his head and focused on the book he was reading under a flashlight. That's when he heard it, the sound of hushed voices and something. . . something growling.

Shit, was the junkyard occupied by someone else tonight? Eddie sighed and rolled his eyes. He finally found a perfect place to escape to, and someone else was here. God, was it someone doing something sketchy. . .like maybe a drug deal. Eddie snorted. He was the one to talk, considering he had just started selling drugs to help pay the bills. Shit, did he have competition? No, these sounded like kid's voices, and someone was yelling for a guy named Steve. Eddie peered through the broken door frame from the back seat of the car. His eyes widened when he saw what was next to the very car that he was in. At first, he thought that it was a fucked up looking dog but there was no way that this creature belonged here on Earth. There was just no fucking way.

Eddie slapped a hand over his mouth to stop himself from yelling out. One sound and he was done for. The creature was black with long, gangly looking limbs. It walked on all four of them, so it was an easy mistake to make, thinking it was a dog. It had no face. No eyes. No nose. No mouth. How did it eat? Oh God, he didn't want to find out. That's when he saw him, out of the corner of his eye. Steve Harrington. He stood in front of the bus like a guardian or a knight, a nail studded baseball bat in his hand and wielding it like a sword. He could see kids' faces peeking out and calling for him. Steve was protecting them. He was a gallant handsome knight, protecting his young charges. He's more like a paladin, really, Eddie thought. Wait, handsome? He must have let out a wimper because suddenly, the creature was trying to get into the car.

"Shit!" Eddie cursed as he backed away from the window and pressed himself up against the other door.

Suddenly, the creature's non face opened up to a giant flowery shaped mouth with thousands of rows of teeth. He was going fucking die. . .or so he thought. A moment later, he saw more creatures approach Steve, and Eddie watched for a moment as Steve took a swing at one, hitting it with everything he had. Eddie couldn't stop watching the swing of his hips. The creature growled and moved away from the window. It joined the others in their fight against Steve. Eddie couldn't stop watching the way he moved. The man was breathtaking, a word he never used to describe a man before, but it was accurate. The word belonged to Steve, and now, suddenly, Eddie could see what so many of the girls were saying about him. He was utterly gorgeous. Yep, Eddie Munson had a crush on a boy. Goddamnit, those stupid jocks were right. He wasn't straight. He wasn't gay either though.

"Fuck," Eddie muttered.

Suddenly, the creatures ran off like they were called away, and for whatever reason, Eddie still couldn't stop watching Steve. Okay, he knew about his crush and the things that go bump in the night, Eddie could look away now. He was in awe of Steve Harrington, though, completely enamored, and he couldn't look away. He watched as Steve ran his hands through his hair, and Eddie's eyes followed his tongue darting out to wet his lips. Eddie licked his own. Steve’s side was turned to him so he could see his profile pretty well in the moonlight. Eddie's eyes followed past his hair and down the curvature of his back. He liked the way his back curved, and Eddie could image running his hands down it until they rested against the small of his back. . .maybe even cupping his well-rounded ass. Holy shit, you could probably bounce a nickel off that thing. That's when he realized he was being watched. Steve’s eyes were on his or were they? He couldn't see him, right? Steve started moving toward the car. Shit.

"Steve, come on, they're heading toward the lab!" A boy shrieked.

"I thought I saw - Nevermind! Wait for me, you little shitheads!" Steve yelled.

Eddie sunk low and laid down against the seat. He pressed a hand to his chest to calm his racing heart. He shut his eyes tight, hoping that it had all been a dream. He wasn't sure when he had drifted off to sleep, but when he had opened his eyes again, sunlight was peaking through the window. Shit! Eddie sat up and quickly climbed out of the car. Wayne was going to be worried. He hopped in his van and drove off. When he got back to the trailer, Wayne was waiting for him out on the couch out front. It was earlier than he thought it was. The sun hadn't quite woken all the way up yet. Eddie plopped down next to him on the couch.

"Your friend leave?" Eddie asked.

"Yeah. You fall asleep in the car again?" Wayne asked.

"Yep," Eddie said, his leg shaking.

"You know, you don't have to keep doing that. Going to the junkyard," Wayne said.

"It's fine. I loved it there," Eddie said.

"You look a little pale there. Is everything okay?" Wayne asked.

Eddie looked at him and debated on whether or not he should tell him. Knowing his uncle and his conspiracy theories, he knew he would believe him if he said anything. It was best to keep it quiet.

"You ever ran away from something because people were telling you that's who you are, and they acted like it was a bad thing, but really, you didn't want them to be right because of your own stupid fears?" Eddie asked.

"Tried to run away from being a Munson when I was younger," Wayne shrugged. "But then I realized it wasn't just my daddy who shared the name but my mama too. She chose to be a Munson even after everything he put us through and even after he died. I ain't ashamed of it no more because you're one too, and I'm happy to share it with you, too."

"The crazy thing is, is that I never thought that it was a bad thing, I just ran away from it, and I don't know why," Eddie said.

"Looking into a mirror and being aware you're looking at yourself can be an unsettling thing. It's hard to open up to people and even harder to open up to yourself," Wayne said. "You want to tell me what this is all about, son?"

"I like women, but I also like. . . ," Eddie said and suddenly pictured his own dad walking out of his life, giving him pause. ". . . I also like men."

He was leaning forward, sitting on the very edge of the couch and trying his hardest not to look at Wayne. Suddenly, he was pulled back, and Wayne was hugging him tightly to his chest.

"You're my boy, and ain't nothing going to change that," Wayne said. "I love you, kid."

"I love you, too," Eddie sniffled as Wayne kissed the top of his head, and Eddie pulled back.

"Besides, you really thought the friend that I invited over here last night was a woman?" Wayne asked.

"You're - "

"Gay. Always have been," Wayne said.

"You never said," Eddie said.

"You never asked. I never asked you either. I figured you would come to me when you were ready," Wayne said.

Eddie sighed, grinning, and leaned back. He sank lower into the couch and rested his head on Wayne's shoulder like he used to do. They watched the sun wake all the way up, shining down over the trailer park as though it was letting them know that everything was going to be okay. For a moment, Eddie believed in the sun, and then he remembered the creatures in the junkyard. The image of the teeth chowing down on Uncle Wayne popped into his head. He couldn't stop the shudder from coming. He wouldn't let anything happen to him.

"You okay?"

"Yeah."

"Are you sure there isn't anything else that you want to talk about?"

"I'm good, Uncle Wayne. I'm all good."

He had been hoping to talk to Steve that very day at school, but he wasn't there that day, nor was he there the following day. The next time he saw him was on Monday, and it looked like someone had done a number on his face. He managed to get him alone when Eddie himself was also going to the bathroom. He had spotted Steve going in first. He waited a moment before following him in there. Steve hadn't noticed him at all, struggling with the lid of a Tylenol bottle. Eddie made sure no one else was in the stalls before locking the bathroom. He swiped the bottle from Steve’s hand and hopped up on the bathroom counter.

"Those are not going to help you," Eddie said.

"And how do you know what's going to help me, Dr. Munson?" Steve scoffed.

"I've been called worse," Eddie said, cackling. "I don't know if you've heard about what I've been doing lately - "

"Selling weed," Steve said.

"Yes, that," Eddie said. "It's going to help you a lot more than these things will."

"I don't have a whole lot of money on me," Steve said, looking embarrassed.

Eddie tilted his head, studying him. He looked weak, pathetic, and sad like the bruises weren't the only things that were hurting him. He was curious about the bruises and it won out.

"What happened to your face, man?" Eddie asked.

"I don't really want to talk about it," Steve winced.

Eddie could tell that he meant that. He wanted so badly to tell Steve about what he had witnessed in the junkyard, but he could see it in his eyes that whatever he went through, he didn't want to talk about it. Maybe another day.

"Okay. Do you still want the weed then?" Eddie asked.

"I told you, I don't have a lot of money on me," Steve said.

"I don't want your money," Eddie said softly.

"What?" Steve asked.

Eddie couldn't believe what he was saying next. He couldn't believe how brave he was being considering that Steve could punch his lights out. Maybe he was just being stupid.

"A kiss," Eddie said.

"A kiss?" Steve asked. "From. . .?"

"You."

"Right. On the cheek or. . .?"

Eddie puckered his lips at him, and Steve swallowed. Oh, this was stupid. Steve was going to kill him. Suddenly, though, Steve was moving closer to Eddie and spreading his legs apart before stepping in between them. Steve grabbed Eddie's legs and slid him closer, very roughly. Eddie wrapped an arm around Steve’s shoulder as the sudden movement, grabbing the back of his jacket. Steve’s face was very close to his, his lips hovering over Eddie's lips.

"I'm not doing this for the weed," he whispered.

And then Steve was kissing him, like actually kissing him. It was like out of a goddamn romance novel, the kinds that Eddie always denies reading when people ask him, the kind that he was reading in the car in the junkyard. He gasped, his mouth opening when he realized he had left his book in the junkyard. Like he always does, he put his name on the inside cover. Steve slipped his tongue in his mouth, and suddenly, every thought fell out of his head. Eddie moved his other hand into his hair, his legs squeezing his hips as he moaned. Steve cupped the back of his head, his large hand cradling him so gently. Suddenly, Eddie became very aware that the hands holding him so delicately, so softly, were man hands. The lips that were on his were a guy's. Eddie broke the kiss with a gasp, feeling very overwhelmed.

"Are you okay?" Steve asked, cupping his cheek.

"Yeah, I just - ," Eddie trailed off.

"This is your first time kissing a guy?" Steve asked.

"Yeah, I'm going to guess that it's not the first time for you," Eddie said.

"Yeah," Steve said.

"I'm sorry, I only just figured out that I like guys, and I thought I was ready, especially when I saw you, but I don't think I'm quite there yet. Sorry, if - " Eddie babbled.

"Eddie," Steve said softly, his thumb stroking his cheekbone. "It's okay. Take your time. Breathe."

Eddie inhaled and slowly exhaled, leaning his face into Steve’s soft touch.

"Thank you," Eddie whispered.

"Take your time, man. When you're ready, come and find me," Steve said. "I'm in the big book."

"The bible?!" Eddie exclaimed.

Okay, yeah, that kiss turned his brain into oatmeal. Goddamnit.

"The phonebook," Steve laughed and grabbed the Tylenol bottle from Eddie. "You're right, I don't need this. I feel much better."

He kissed the tip of Eddie's nose, and he walked out of the room with a spring in his step. Eddie eyes were glued to his backside the entire time he walked away. He ended up leaning so far forward that he fell off the counter and onto the floor. Eddie flopped onto his back and stared up at the ceiling.

"Oh, I am in trouble," Eddie said.

It was a statement he repeated a couple of years later, when Chrissy Cunningham died in his trailer and he was hiding out in Reefer Rick's boathouse. He never expected him to show up, and he certainly never expected to see him after Eddie pushed himself away after Eddie distanced himself like a coward that he is. Eddie didn't deny himself after that kiss. He even went up to Indianapolis and discovered the term for himself. Eddie Munson was a full-blown bisexual. He wasn't afraid of that anymore. No, it was the fear of actually getting close to someone in an intimate manner of letting his guard down that kept him at bay. He had hoped that Steve somehow knew. As Eddie pushed him up against the wall of that boathouse, he could see it in Steve's eyes. Steve knew. He cupped Eddie's face and brushed his thumb against his cheekbone.

"It's okay, take your time, breathe. It's okay, Eddie," Steve said softly.

Eddie whimpered, leaned into his touch, and dropped the beer bottle. He buried his face into Steve’s neck. He broke down sobbing as Steve wrapped his arms around him in a tight hug.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I just ran," Eddie sobbed.

After that, everything happened so fast. They barely had time to talk except for that little moment in the woods in the Upside Down, where they admitted that they had been jealous of each other's relationship with Dustin. God, he really did love that little dude, and yeah, every time Dustin brought up Steve’s name, he had been a little jealous, but he had also felt guilty about not going to Steve. That one stupid kiss felt so perfect but also final, and it was like he realized he was never going to have a first kiss ever again. They had barely interacted, but when Eddie saw Steve swinging that bat in the junkyard and protecting those kids, he had known in that moment that this guy was it for him. God, did that scare the shit out of him, so he ran away.

"Hey," a magical voice sang to him.

White lights floated above him, and he furrowed his brow in confusion. There's no way in hell. . .

"Am I in fucking Heaven? Who in their right mind would let me through the gate? Oh my God! What's that obnoxious beeping sound? Someone get your fucking food, man," Eddie groaned and then he blinked more clearly to find that Steve was sitting by his bedside. "Yeah, I am in Heaven. There's a fucking angel sitting beside me."

Steve grinned and blushed. Eddie heard giggling coming from somewhere. He looked around and groaned. He was in a goddamn hospital and surrounded by his uncle as well as the members of the party.

"Don't be embarrassed, son. That's not the worst thing you ever said," Wayne told him. "I could tell everyone about the time you got your appendix out, and you told the nurse - "

"Nothing! I told her nothing!" Eddie exclaimed.

"It's good to see you're awake, Eddie," Nancy said as she started to push everyone out of the room.

"Um, okay, I guess I'm not as interesting now that you guys can no longer watch me sleep," Eddie said.

"We're giving you some time, son," Wayne said.

"Time for what?" Eddie asked with wide eyes. "Time for what, Uncle Wayne?!"

He didn't answer, just followed everyone out of the room, leaving Eddie alone with Steve.

"This isn't the first time you woke up, you know," Steve said.

"It's not?" Eddie asked.

"No, you were still pretty out of it. You kept apologizing to me about waiting too long, then something how when you saw me swinging that bat in the junkyard protecting the kids, that you knew I was it for you," Steve blushed. "And you said it scared the shit out of you which, I totally get."

"You do?" Eddie said.

"Do you think that you're the first person who ever ran away from big scary feelings? You're not. I mean, why do you think that I didn't chase after you? I had just gotten dumped, I was still hurting pretty bad, and suddenly, the guy that I've been crushing on since freshman year wanted to kiss me. I pushed you away too because when I kissed you, I knew you were it for me too," Steve said. "It was easier to run than to risk getting hurt again. I think I'm ready to take that risk, if you are."

"Yeah," Eddie said, grinning when Steve took his hand and kissed it.

"So, I guess you never went back to that junkyard after that because when I went there, I found this," Steve grinned.

He pulled out a book from his pocket and wiggled it in front of Eddie. It was his romance novel. With his name writing on the inside cover.

"Oh, no," Eddie said.

"Oh, yes, Eddie Munson likes romance novels," Steve grinned. "Apparently, he has a type, too. You know that guy on the cover looks awfully familiar. I think I've seen a guy like him in the mirror a time or too. I've got better hair, though."

"Goddamnit, how do you make being a bitch look so sexy?" Eddie muttered.

"It's a God-given talent, baby," Steve winked. "Now, let's crack open this bad boy because you're in luck, I happen to love romance novels too, and I haven't read this one yet."

With one hand, he held the book, and the other he held Eddie's. Eddie, meanwhile, gazed lovingly at him as he listened to him read. Steve paused for a moment before pulling out a pair of glasses from his pocket and slipping it onto his face. Oh God. He has glasses. Yep, Eddie Munson was completely gone for this man. Time of Love - wait, there's no fucking clock in this room. Goddamnit. Time is a funny thing. One minute, you're just minding your own business, and the next thing you know, you have got the best thing that ever happened to you reading by your hospital bed. Time, what a mischievous bitch.

[porcelainseashore]

They Don't Make Them Like Her Anymore - VTM Bloodlines 20th Anniversary

Commissioned art by @medeaft

Author's Note: I wrote this to celebrate the 20th anniversary of Vampire: The Masquerade – Bloodlines and for a Gallery Noir server event by @vampemoqueen and @bigswordenergy.

Step into the shoes of our favorite sick freak, Vandal Cleaver, as he ruminates on the recent happenings in his life. Pliers and blowtorch included. Terms and conditions apply.

Content Warnings: Violence, torture, self-harm, body horror, mild gore, mild sexual content, obsessive behavior, blood bond, Hannah Glazer and Therese Voerman mentions, murder.

Hannah, Hannah… oh, Hannah. They don’t make them like her anymore, do they? It was sad actually—tragic—well no more tragic than another dead hooker found in a soulless apartment Downtown. Nothing that would make the headlines, not even worthy of a back page obituary in the local paper. Heh, I may be a sap for saying this, but she was good enough for me.

You see, they don’t make them like her anymore. No shit. The new girl? She can’t quite do the job like Hannah did, but since when were beggars choosers? Yeah, I know my place in the pecking order. At least she has the stomach for what I request of her. Doesn’t outright scream, “You fucking freak!” in my face, leaving me high and dry. I need my fix afterall, like the rest of you… Hiding dirty little secrets to dig out between your sorry sack of bones with a scalpel—do you know what a skilled hand can do with a scalpel? Have you ever run your finger across the edge of a blade? Any blade—come on, don’t lie to me now, we’re friends, aren’t we? Everyone’s done it once in their life, lost their innocence as blood blooms from the vulvic slit like a bouquet of roses. Sometimes it gushes like a torrent, depending on how deep you sliced. Shh, it’s okay to get carried away. Your secret’s safe with me.

Anyway, she does as I ask, like a good enough girl, then pukes her guts out—politely—in the bathroom next door. I know, because I hear it. Her chest concave and hollowed, heaving, organ crushing against organ as she squeezes her lungs, gagging on saliva and air. They don’t make them like her anymore, you get what I’m saying?

Earlier, I watched as the flimsy fabric of my skin peeled away, acid pink flesh melting from bone, and the charred layers curling under the blue flame like burning plastic. What remains blisters and festers. I’ve done it so many times I think all that can be salvaged from me are deadened nerves and an empty husk. I like being empty though. Sprawled out on the floor, naked and clean as a newborn while the world around me spins in circles. For a moment, everything feels attainable and unattainable. 

My queen… queen of all queens—

And just like that, it’s gone. I’m left with the chick who has a blowtorch in one hand and her nose in the other, pinching it as though the fumes are toxic. Her hands are always trembling, like an addle-brained patient, maybe because I don’t know whether I’m laughing or screaming half of the time.

My body is already mending at twice the speed when she brings out the pliers. I am a god and a shitty mistake all in one—not quite like the bitch goddess who owns me, but almost. Give it another hundred years, and I’ll be standing in this exact room, cutting myself open with my bare hands, alive and kicking to see the process. Imagine tucking my fingers under the sagging flaps, flaying skin from tissue as I pull it apart. Wet, stinking clumps of flesh and its sinewy tendons will stick between my nails, overstaying their welcome, yet impossible to scrub out. And that smell—mmm, that smell! A putrid, cloying tang of filthy pennies, assaulting my senses like a hammer to the head. I want to untangle my entrails like the wires in my brain that got crossed somewhere, just to check and see if they’re the same as everyone else.

Oh, so the new girl needs a bit of encouragement, does she? Lingering there slack-jawed and taking her sweet time. The missus—no, I mean, Hannah never needed to be told twice. Deep down, I think she even enjoyed it, the sick fuck. They don’t make them like her—

“Do it,” I hiss, saliva drooling from my lips like a rabid dog.

I hear bones snapping before the pain hits me, rattling my teeth as an excruciating jolt shoots up my arm. For a split second, I’m blinded by a searing white light. My thumb is dangling at an awkward angle and I must be howling, because the look on that girl’s face… well, what wouldn’t I give to have a picture as a keepsake? Frame it up on the wall like a goddamn Picasso.

Sometimes I feel the hairy legs of spiders skittering around my skull. It tickles like the high strings of a violin being plucked—faintly, daintily, as if it were never there. Sometimes I say things, but my words aren’t my own. And it’s happening right now. The girl before me is no longer a girl, but the queen bitch herself.

“Therese,” I weep and moan. It’s lewd and urgent like a fever prayer falling from my lips. I swear I could cum from her name alone, and I hate myself for it.

“What did you just call me?”

Therese in body and blood, spirit and flesh. Therese in all her unbearable glory. The cold metal clamps down on my trigger finger and her grin is so wicked I can only grovel and lick the dirt off her boots. She’s inside of me. When I hurt myself, she hurts too, and I enjoy it.

“Yes, please! Oh, mistress, oh fuck—”

My eyes shut as I throw my head back, mouth in the shape of an “O” that’s simply ridiculous. I try not to imagine how it looks like one of those snuff tape suckers in post-coital, or should I say, post-feast bliss. Disgusting and vile. I remember mocking them with Phil as I forced him to watch every single Death Mask film in that dingy basement of the Santa Monica Clinic.

When I come to, my balls are no longer heavy and aching, like an oppressive, shameful need. Semen trickles down my leg, pooling in my pants as though I wet myself. It smells of rotting fish and I’m trying not to cry. I wish it were the Nectar of the Gods instead.

A flash of anger rears up in my chest and I tear my eyes open. Therese—no, the new girl lies like a crumpled doll on the floor, mouth agape in that stupid “O.” Good enough like a pair of single-use gloves to dispose of in the trash without a second thought. Except, I used mine again and again. What’s the point if they break apart so easily? They don’t make them—

I yank her face towards me. The whites of her eyes loll back as I squash the fat of her cheeks within my bloodied hand, and her lips mime a fish sucking in breath.

“Tell me I’m good enough! Say it!” something that sounds more akin to a pig squealing explodes like a burst tap.

The stumps of my fingers move her mouth like a ventriloquist, but she says nothing. Blood smears across her dull skin. She doesn’t wake up. That can only mean one thing: useless. They don’t—

I let her body fall to the ground with a thud. Whipping a phone out from my back pocket, what’s left of my fingers fly over the keypad, punching in a line I’ve rehearsed a thousand times.

“A special order for the mistress.”

Tears cloud my eyes as I hear my quivering breath. It’s shallow and erratic. I still can’t tell if I’m laughing or crying half of the time.

Dividers by @diableriedoll

[zepskies]

Strong as Blood - Part 1

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Reader

Summary: After you accidentally break through a solid wood table, you know there’s something wrong with you. You begin to have your suspicions, but can you keep it from Ben long enough to find out? 

(In other words: This is the story of how you and Ben discover that you’re pregnant.)

AN: This two-part fic can be read as stand-alone, but it’s really a bonus sequel to Break Me Down!

Word Count: 4,500

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Angst, fluff, and a smutty ending. 

To find the chronological reading order for the series, check out the series masterlist. ⤵️

💚 Break Me Down

Part 1: “Probably Temporary”

Make no mistake. Ben was still a terrible cook.

He’d sort of gotten the hang of the grill though, even if he technically wasn’t supposed to be smoking meat on the apartment’s second-floor balcony. 

You peeked out at your boyfriend through the sliding glass door to make sure he was still doing okay. He caught you though, and shot you a wink.

He was very proud of his grill. 

We’re so gonna get in trouble with the homeowner’s association, you thought, but you couldn’t help a smile. You obliged him when he beckoned you over, and you slid the door open. 

“Almost done? I think our neighbors are going to complain again,” you said with a laugh. Ben rolled his eyes.

“It’s a bit of smoke, not a fucking forest fire,” he groused. “Let those uppity fucks complain. Bet’cha they won’t have the balls to say shit to my face if I go across the street for a little visit.” 

You soothed him with a hand along his shoulder. It also gave you an excuse to check on his progress. You considered this episode to be a success, considering the balcony wasn’t up in flames this time. And the steaks actually looked good. Not brittle pieces of charcoal, but not raw and bleeding either.  

“I think those are done,” you advised. Ben followed your gaze and nodded. He used his bare hands to turn the foil-wrapped potatoes, just because he could. 

“Why don’t you take ‘em in while I finish up these potatoes,” he said. “How’s the rest coming?”

“Good. I’m about to take the casserole out of the oven,” you said with a nod. Meanwhile, he placed the steaks in a glass dish that been sitting near the open grill. He handed it to you, but you almost dropped the steaks when the hot glass burned your hands. 

You hissed in pain, while Ben caught the dish with both hands. His brows furrowed, first in surprise, then in thinly veiled concern when he looked over at you. He reached out for your shoulder. 

“Damn,” he said. “Didn’t seem that hot…you okay?”

You looked up from your stinging hands and sighed at him in exasperation, but you couldn’t get that mad at him. He sometimes couldn’t gauge things like this when it came to what he could handle, versus what your normal human body could. 

“Yeah. I’ll just break out the aloe. First, let me get some oven mitts,” you replied, but your answering smile retained some good humor. Ben quirked an apologetic smile of his own. He decided to follow you into the kitchen, taking the steaks in himself. 

You grabbed your favorite green oven mitts and carefully took out the veggie casserole. It smelled delicious, but Ben still peered at it over your shoulder when you placed it on the counter. 

“Don’t you look at my casserole sideways,” you quipped. “You need to eat more veggies.”

He leveled you with a dry look. “You saying I’m getting out of shape?”

“God forbid,” you gasped, playfully jabbing at his firm abs with a mitt-covered hand. “I’m just saying, your super metabolism is compensating for a lot of booze and Taco Bell.”

Ben rose a brow at your cheekiness. He drew closer behind you, trapping you against the counter with one hand braced on the edge, and the other sliding up your jean-clad hip. 

“You’ve got some nerve. I don’t talk shit about the stash of Twix bars in your nightstand, do I?” he remarked. He nipped at your ear, making you flinch and giggle. His beard was also tickling your neck. 

“You’re peeping in my nightstand now? How dare you,” you teased. He snorted in response. 

“Please. Your purple vibrator isn’t exactly a fucking mystery to me,” he retorted. You felt his smirk growing against your neck. “Might wanna keep it away from the chocolate though. That could get messy…unless you want it to be.” 

Your body shook with the effort of containing your laughter. He was so fucking gross.

“Don’t you need to check on the potatoes?” you asked. “I don’t want to have to pressure wash the balcony again.”

Ben made a sound of agreement, but was sure to swat you on the ass before he went. You jolted, but you just shook your head with a blush and a smile. 

It had been over a year since you and Ben had moved in together. Already you’d had your first fight as a true couple, your first Christmas, and so many other challenges, large and small, that had all come to solidify one thing for you.

You were happy. Maybe for the first time in your life. 

It just came with some…small caveats, you reflected, as you reached into the fridge to find the jar of aloe vera. Before you slathered some onto your hands, you realized they were no longer red, and they didn’t even sting anymore.

“What the hell?” you muttered. You put back the jar and rested a hand on your hip. 

Well, maybe you hadn’t burned yourself as bad as you thought. 

With that oddity still in your mind, you pulled on your oven mitts again and took up the casserole with the intention of bringing it to the dining table. Admittedly, you were a bit distracted. You didn’t remember about the raised ledge in the doorway to the dining room until it was too late.

You tripped, and though you managed to make it to the table, you gasped when you broke right through the wood. 

The table just seemed to give up when you hit it, cracking in half, and sending you tumbling to the floor with hot casserole heaped on top. You were still stunned when Ben tore back inside. His green eyes were wide, his brows furrowed as he took in the state of you on the floor with the broken table.

“What the hell happened?” he asked, though he bent down to help you up. He checked you for injuries, but both of you found nothing. 

“I’m okay,” you said, a bit shakily. “I tripped, that’s all.”

Ben’s brows raised as he looked from you to the shards of the table. He knocked on the wood surface. 

“Cheap piece of shit. Where’d you get this thing?” he asked. 

You flickered at a smile and admitted, “IKEA.”

Ben shook his head. “We really need to broaden your palate.”

You insisted you were all right. But he insisted, without words, on checking you over again. His hands brushed down your shoulders and arms, your hands and neck.

He held your face in his hands, and he let out a deep sigh. You just smiled up at him, though inside, you were hiding a bit of worry yourself. 

That table hadn’t been cheap. It was solid pine wood. 

But Ben seemed to believe you. He also seemed a bit exasperated. 

“I should just layer you up in goddamn bubble wrap. The way you find ways to break yourself is beyond me,” he muttered. Your lips pursed. 

“I resent that—”

“I’m sure you fucking do.”

“Besides,” you said, a smirk pulling at the corner of your mouth. “What a pain in the ass would it be to unwrap me?” 

Ben huffed, even as his hands traveled down to wrap around your waist and pull you in close. 

“True,” he smirked. “You’re already a pain in the ass as it is.” 

You opened your mouth to mount an indignant protest, but he shut you up the only surefire way he knew how. His kiss was swift, deep, and left you humming into his mouth in surprise. 

But you soon pulled back, brushing a thumb along his chin. “We’ve got to clean up this mess. And…did you get the potatoes?”

Ben thought for a moment, but then his mouth firmed into a line. 

“Shit,” he muttered, and released you to run back to the grill. 

That night, you stood barefooted in your nightgown and took a moment alone in the bathroom to breathe. And to think. And to test the strength in your hands, by bending one of Ben’s metal wrenches like it was a useless paper straw. 

Okay, now you were panicking a bit. 

What the fuck? you thought. You had only ever experienced super strength when you were on V24 (which you had not taken, let alone the permanent stuff). 

But…if you thought about it, there had been one other time when you had felt this strong. And it had been when you were in the hospital, almost two years ago, after Vought Tower collapsed. You’d needed a surgery you might not have lived through. It was Ben’s actions that had saved you…after he donated his blood.

Unless he was somehow giving you transfusions without you knowing, there was only one other possibility you could think of for Ben’s DNA to somehow be in your system…

Holy shit, you thought. And you sat down on the closed toilet. Hard. Enough to dislodge a decorative dish that was perched on a shelf behind you. You gasped, but weren’t able to catch it before it hit the ground loudly. You winced and picked it up, even as you heard Ben’s steps approaching the bathroom. 

“You okay?” he asked predictably, through the closed door.

“Fine!” you said, your voice too high. You cleared your throat and tried to normalize your voice. “I’m fine, just dropped something.”

“Christ. You going for a record today?” he remarked. 

You rolled your eyes. 

A few minutes later, you finished in the bathroom and tried to act as normal as possible as you slid into bed next to your boyfriend. He was watching TV, but he glanced over at you. You knew he was silently assessing you, seeing if you were really okay. 

You gave him a smile and leaned over for a goodnight kiss. You attempted to be chaste, but he deepened it. He slid an arm around your waist and tilted his head, slipping his tongue between the seam of your lips. 

You welcomed him at first…but a tremor of warning flashed in your mind, along with the persistent thought that had followed you from the bathroom.

Should I tell him? 

You didn’t know why your inclination was to hold it in. There very well could be something wrong with you. But if your suspicions were true, then you wanted confirmation first. 

“What’s the matter?” Ben asked. He’d pulled back, sensing your distraction. You came back to yourself.

“Nothing, just tired,” you said, stroking his chest over his shirt. 

Ben looked into your eyes, his face more or less stoic. You saw the way he was trying to get a read on you though, like he didn’t quite believe you. You couldn’t blame him, but you could be very convincing when you needed to be.

He eventually nodded, letting you turn away from him to slip under the covers. Even though you felt the sting of your lie tingling unpleasantly down your spine. 

You met Dr. Tonya Baker at her office in the Supe Affairs building. She’d been Vought’s top scientist, up until last year. After Stan Edgar’s death and the company’s collapse, the CIA recruited Dr. Baker. 

You didn’t like her. Nor did you trust her, exactly, but she had assisted Dr. Vogelbaum when Becca Butcher came to him with a unique problem. Now, Dr. Baker was the only one left with the knowledge and resources to advise you.

And she was able to confirm your suspicions. She came back with lab results while you sat up on an examining table. 

“You’re eleven weeks pregnant,” she informed you. 

Even though you’d been somewhat expecting it, suspicion and knowing were very different things. You took in a shaking breath, and through your shock, you were smiling. Happy, and even relieved.

Until Dr. Baker spoke again. 

“The super strength is probably temporary. A side effect of the fetus’s genetics. But, it’s also advantageous for you,” she said, adjusting her glasses. “This makes it much more likely that you’ll survive the birth.”

Your breath ceased at that thought, not to mention her clinical delivery. 

“Always with that delightful bedside manner, Doctor,” you quipped. All of a sudden, you were feeling lightheaded. 

Or maybe you were just freaking the fuck out. 

When you got home that evening after work, Ben watched you. 

He knew something was off with you the second you walked through the door, pale and pensive. Still, you flashed him a greeting and a smile that didn’t reach your eyes on your way to the bedroom. 

So he followed you. And the fact that you didn’t even notice, even flinched when he dropped a hand on your shoulder, told him that you were more than just distracted. The last straw was when you walked into the dresser while glancing back at him. You hissed and shook out your sandle-clad foot. 

Now, you were injury prone at the best of times, but this was a bit much, Ben thought. 

“Geez, I didn’t even hear you,” you said, trying at a chuckle. “Normally you thud around in those combat boots like an elephant. We’re lucky no one lives below us—”

“What’s the matter with you?” Ben asked. He was never one to beat around the bush. 

Your eyes widened a fraction; unease crept down your spine, but you gave him a quirk of your brow. 

“Excuse me?” 

“You fucking heard me,” he said. His gaze was hunter green, serious, and focused down on you.

“I’m fine, Ben—”

“No,” he snapped. “There’s something off with you.” 

You bit your lower lip. It seemed your boyfriend knew you better than you thought. You’d had a plan though. You had wanted to wait until you had a moment to shake off your anxiety and focus on the good when you sat him down this evening.

But you should’ve known better. Ben was remarkably impatient, even when he didn’t know what he was in for. 

And he got tired of waiting for your answer. 

He changed tactics, reaching for your arms. His grip was firm, but gentle in brushing his thumbs back and forth across your skin. His mouth was in a line, and you caught the concern hiding under his furrowed brows. 

“What’s so bad you can’t tell me?” he asked. 

You looked up into his eyes. Despite yourself, you had to smile. I’m not playing fair, you realized. 

“Okay, come ‘ere,” you said. You took his hand and led him to sit with you on the bed. Pulling his hand between both of yours into your lap, you sighed and thought about how you were going to say this. 

After a moment, you got a burst of inspiration. You held up a waiting finger to him and went into the closet to pull out one of your 25-pound hand weights. It might as well have weighed a pound, for how light it felt. You brought it back to the bed, and Ben stared back at you quizzically. 

“So…I didn’t get that table from IKEA,” you confessed. “It was solid wood, and I really did break straight through it.”

He rose a brow. “All right…”

You then showed him your newfound strength, by breaking the hand weight in half with your bare hands. His eyes widened, making you giggle a bit. You deposited both metal heads into his hands. He considered them, then you. His brows were knitting together even tighter. 

“What the hell—”

“Remember when you donated blood for me, when I was laid up in the hospital a couple years ago?” you asked. “I got your super strength for a day or two afterwards.”

Ben nodded. You had been a bit more than laid up, but semantics, he guessed. He was getting more confused by the moment. 

“Well this time, I’m told it’s also temporary…for the next seven months or so,” you said with a playful smile. 

Ben considered your words. He turned them back and forth in his head… 

Finally, his gaze flicked from yours to the broken weights in his hands. And he tossed them to the floor with a heavy thud on the hard wood. 

You giggled in earnest when he reached for your face with both hands. His eyes searched yours for any hint of a joke, his jaw tight and working. 

“Are you fucking with me right now?” he asked. His voice was a hint unsteady. You smiled bright and covered his hands with your own as the beginnings of tears stung in your eyes. 

“Not this time,” you said. “Ben, I’m pregnant.” 

It took him a moment to register your words. You saw the moment it all finally set in, with new realization etching into his features.

Never once had you seen this man tear up. He turned his face away, but you still caught the edges of his emotion. 

You reached for his bearded cheek, turning him back to you. His eyes were red and starting to shine, even though he was fighting it. A muscle in his jaw clenched, and then eased.

After a beat, his hands moved down from your face to brush down your arms, down your sides and around your frame. He pulled you into his lap, for which you went willingly into his arms. And your tears fell in earnest when he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

You knew what this meant to him, but you still couldn’t help but prod at him.

“Are you happy?” you teased, rubbing his back. Ben huffed and brushed a strand of hair out of your eyes. 

“What do you think?” he countered.  

Your hand moved down to slip under his shirt, gliding over the taut muscles in his back as they responded to your touch. You met him with a small smirk. 

“Show me,” you challenged. 

His lips quirked; that was all the encouragement he needed. Ben’s hands moved to tangle in your hair and squeeze the curve of your waist, bringing you flush against him when he kissed you. You inhaled deeply. Your nails dragged up his back, applying some pressure that made his shoulders twitch. 

You didn’t know what your newfound strength felt like to him, but for Ben, you felt solid in a way you hadn’t before. He could let go of some of his self-control and knead your hips with a force beyond bruising.

He could veer away from your lips and raze down your neck, and give your shoulder a love bite that would’ve drawn blood. Now it didn’t even break your skin. It did, however, earn him a pleased gasp. 

Maybe he’d just have to keep knocking you up, he thought. So you’d always be this strong.  

You started rucking up his shirt first, and had to push him back to even get it off him. After that, all bets were off.

It was a mad scramble to shed each other’s clothes, with Ben not being able to get away with his usual manhandling. Your smile grew, as you now had the strength to literally push back and make him work a bit harder for it.  

He smirked up at you when you managed to take him by surprise and push him back onto the bed. You’d successfully bared him for your gaze, but you still had your bra and panties on as you climbed over him and straddled his lap. 

Ben held himself up with a hand on the bed as the other slid around your waist and hooked you in. You took his face in your hands and gave him the full force of your passion.

Your lips claimed his in a devouring kiss, teeth clicking and tongues dueling for dominance. And you ground down your clothed core against his rising length, earning his groan of appreciation into your mouth.

With a flick of his wrist, your bra strap snapped off in the back. You huffed, knowing he’d probably broken the clasp.

Ah well, I’m about to need new ones soon enough.

The thought made you smile against his lips. You let him pull the bra down your arms and wherever he decided to fling it off to. You thought he might start traveling down between your breasts, as was a favorite path of his to map out.

But then, in one smooth motion Ben had you flipped over onto your back. He grinned at your yelp of surprise, but he didn’t give you a chance to recover. He latched onto your neck again, this time on the other side as he scraped his beard and teeth across your skin.

Meanwhile, you moaned encouragements in his ear while his heavy hand squeezed one of your breasts, rolled a thumb over a pert nipple. 

You trailed your hands down his chest, soothing over golden tan skin and freckles and sculpted muscle until you reached his hard length. You earned a straining grunt from your man as you teased the sensitive flesh, a thumb circling over its weeping head. 

Ben grabbed your wrist and gave you a warning look. “Can’t let me fucking concentrate, huh?”

You just grinned and took his hand instead. You dragged it down your body until you guided his fingers into your underwear, between your wet folds. 

“Ben, I need you,” you said. But your need was already in your eyes. Your skin was on fire wherever he touched, and deep inside, where you burned for him most. 

Ben felt it in your iron grip on his hand, now almost as strong as his own. Your legs curled up his thighs to wrap around his hips, teasing him with the soft promise between your inner thighs. So how could he do anything else but give you what you wanted? 

He teased between your folds with his fingers first. Gathering some of your wetness, he circled over your clit firmly. You whimpered as your back arched in response. 

“Gonna sing for me, baby doll?” he teased. Your breathing became more labored as his fingers continued to play with you, but you managed to offer a small smirk. 

“You gonna make me?” you asked. “Think you need to bring out the big guns for that one.”

Ben chuckled. As usual, you were being a little shit. 

So he brought you to the edge of your release, just with his fingers. You were starting to squeeze them tight with your inner walls, your moans getting more urgent. But he withdrew his digits at the last moment, leaving you panting and confused.

“What…”

He smirked down at you and wrapped his slick fingers around his cock, stroking himself a few times. You watched him with expectant, hungry eyes.  

“You want the big guns, I’ll fucking give ‘em to you,” he said. It made you huff, but you had to smile as he returned to you. He hooked his fingers on the hem of your panties and slowly, torturous, he pulled them down your legs.

Those same hands then traveled back up, gliding across your skin with purpose. Your breath shallowed in anticipation.

He eventually gripped your hips, pushing your thighs up a bit farther, and you lined his cock to your entrance. Your heels dug into his ass and added a bit of force when he pushed inside you. And your moans tangled together along with your bodies.

You fairly pulsed inside, and he felt it in your inner walls wrapped so fucking tight around him. His forehead briefly fell to your shoulder. Even though you were panting for breath, you still soothed him, carding your fingers through his hair. 

Normally he’d be going off at a relentless clip by now. But Ben started slow, rolling his hips back and forth into yours at a steady rhythm that managed to take your breath away and make your toes curl.

His name fell from your lips, reverent and pleased. You felt every part of him as he plunged inside you, and it was incredibly fucking hot.  

He took a moment to meet your eyes. He gave you a grin that softened the hard edges that so often lined his face in times like this. And you realized then what was happening.

Ben didn’t do slow. Not for long anyway. But it seemed like he’d taken your challenge to heart. In fact, you had a feeling he was showing you what he couldn’t quite put into words. 

When he reached a hand to part your folds and circle two insistent finger pads around your clit, you couldn’t help but grip his arms tight enough to bruise him. Your mouth opened on a keening moan.

Combined with his deep strokes starting to brush all the right spots inside you, it had you squeezing on him from the inside as you came hard, and made it known in his ear.

“Fuck—” Ben’s brows furrowed as your release finally triggered his own. And his voice joined yours, muffling in the pillow under your head. You shuddered as he spilled deep inside you. 

Your arms came around his back and held him to you for a moment afterwards, just stroking his back, his shoulders, his neck, whatever you could reach while you both caught your breath.

Eventually, Ben’s lips found your neck. You felt the shape of his smile grow there. 

“Too bad you’re already knocked up, or that could’ve been a great way to bring in our second kid,” he remarked.

This time, it took a second for his words to click together in your mind. As soon as they did, you uttered a laugh that shook both of your frames. You swatted his ass in reproach. He smirked down at you.

“I can't with you,” you said. Though you were still giggling. “You’re just gonna have to wait for the first one to come out of the oven.” 

Ben’s smirk evened out into a grin, his face almost boyish in his glee.

“Well, what can I say, baby? You’re a damn good cook.”  

AN: 😂 Well then. What did you think of how she broke the news? And Ben's reaction to finding out he's finally going to be a dad? 🥹

But of course, it's not going to be all sunshine and roses in Part 2. The reader and Ben reveal the good news to her family, and as we all know, he's hoping for a son...

Next Time:

“Hey,” she said. “You know how much I care about you, right?”

“And where’s this going?” you quipped. But you turned around and gave your little sister a half-smile. You knew what she was about to say.

“So what are you going to do about that?” she asked, gesturing to your man in the kitchen. “Mr. Macho wants his prized stud. What happens if he doesn’t get him?”

You sighed. “Ben’s wanted this for a long time. He’s got an idea in his head of what it’s going to be like, and…we’ll cross that bridge when we get there.”

Keep reading: PART 2

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[naanima]

I needddd Max reaction! I NEED HIM TO GO FERAL ABOUT IT

This is part 2. Part 1 is here.

YES. HE WOULD. Max receiving the message of Daniel and his new back tattoo.

Not beta'd. Gods, this is so NOT edited in any way shape or form. But I wrote this in a half dazed frenzy. I'll post a proper copy of this and the first part as one whole fic sometime in the next few days on ao3. Thanks for being equally feral as me guys!

EXPLICIT: There's wanking and sex. Sort of.

1.48k words. I wrote over 2k words today. I am done. Probably tapped out writing wise for the next two to three days. Lols.

"MAAAX!" An arm went around his neck and a wet kiss missed his cheek, and was instead plastered across his head. More people joined and Max was pulled out into the heaving mass of people dancing to the club music.

Max was so happy, he was also so drunk, but he was so fucking happy. Every win was of course important. But this one, this one was so important, this year has been shit. The fucking worst. The car is shit, the people who had won with him, the ones he thought would be always with him had left, gone to the competition. He had thought he had finally gotten Daniel back, after years of not having him. That they were finally at a point in their lives that they could get their shit together and make it work. But that had been snatched away.

And he understood why Daniel couldn't stay, why he had to leave. Max wasn't a teenager anymore, he understood that F1 wasn't always fair. It was shit.At least Daniel had visited him in Monaco. At least he the past two years had allowed them to be together more often then they had.

Winning the WDC made it, not exactly worth it, but it made things easier to accept. Made it bearable.

He threw back his gin and tonic, and a full glass of gin and tonic was placed into his hand. He laughed, drank it all, passed the empty glass to whomever was closest, and jumped into the mass of people all celebrating his win. Their combined efforts gave Max the opportunity to win.

He didn't know how long he danced for, pulled in by people who wanted to hug him, kiss him on the cheek, tell him they loved him, then he was passed along to the next person, rinse and repeat. Max was so happy, Max wished Daniel was here with him, wished it was Daniel pulling him in to kiss him on the cheeks, maybe to miss and then they would end up kissing on the mouth. Daniel was so strong now, he would be able to lift him off the floor for a hug, and maybe Max could wrap his legs around his waist, and then - fuck, he needed to stop. He was so hot, and the air felt like thick molasses, and Max was a bit dizzy, and fuck he needed to take a piss.

He stumbled his way to the bathroom, avoided outstretched hands with a laugh, and told people, "I need to piss."

His phone buzzed as he was washing his hands at the sink. He looked down and saw Daniel’s name flash across the top of the screen. It didn't show the content, something he had set up so that he could have some privacy from fans, the media and the paparazzi.

He had received so many messages, from almost everyone in his life, but he hadn't received anything from Daniel yet. He knew he was in America, most likely in LA. But he had not received anything from Daniel.

But now Daniel was texting him, and Max could feel his heart beating faster. He was worried, not seriously, but he was a little concerned. But it was okay now because Daniel was messaging him, probably so that could congratulate him like had for every win he has had.

Max unlocked his phone and opened his messages, pulling up his message thread with Daniel. He didn't know what he was seeing at first. Didn't know why Daniel had sent him a picture of a naked man, but then everything clicked, the curls, the tattoos on the thigh, the muscled back and the ass that Max had dreamed about as a teenager, fuck, had dreamed about as an adult.

Shit, did Daniel send this by mistake, was it meant for someone else? Fuck that fucking person. God, Daniel looked so good, Max wanted to touch every bit of the exposed skin. And then Max took in Daniel's lower back, something gold and black on red skin just above his ass. And Max had to zoom in, squinted his eyes to look, and when it finally became apparent, Max’s hand tightened around his phone and a deep guttural groan escaped his lips.

And oh my fucking god. He was suddenly so hard, a whiskey dick apparently not making an impact at all in the face of a naked Daniel Riccardo. A Daniel Ricciardo who had branded himself with Max's name right above his ass, and what the fuck was Max meant to do with that. His brain felt like it was on fire, his whole body felt like it was too small for his needs, he was sweating, and he suddenly felt like he was starving. A deep ache that needed to be filled, felt as if it could consume him if he let it. Fuck. Max needed to come right now.

He made his way into one of the cubicles, locked the door and sat on top of the closed toilet. He had to hold his phone under his chin as he used both of his hands to unzip himself, to pull his pants off so that he could reach his dick. And gods it felt so fucking good, his pre-come overflowing across his hands, running down his dick.

He used his right hand to hold the phone up so that he could see Daniel's naked back, so that he could see his initials, his wins, his fucking brand on Daniel. His left hand formed a tight wet channel around his cock as he fucked into it. He kept on looking at the tattoo, thought about tracing his name in gold with his fingers, thought about kissing it, licking it with his tongue, biting into it until he left his teeth marks on top of it. His hands pressing into it as he went down the curve of Daniel's ass. His mouth and tongue licking downwards till he reached Daniel's tight hole. He could bring so much pleasure to Daniel, could make him squirm and moan, shake and cry like a mindless drooling toy, could make him come on his tongue as he held him down by his hips.

He could fuck slowly into Daniel using just his spit and his pre-come, his dick buried deep, and then slowly pull out as Daniel’s body tried to hold him in, all the while watching Daniel's lower back, his name tattooed onto smooth skin. Daniel had branded himself for Max. Had made himself his, and Max wanted Daniel here, he wanted to suck Daniel's dick, push his face into his pubes, wanted to come over Daniel's back, his come all over his name in gold and black ink. He could lick his own come off Daniel's back afterwards, could push his own come into Daniel’s red used hole, and - fuck, his body tensed all over, his brain whited out, and he came with a long deep moan, and he might have blakced out for a split second. When he came back into himself, his come was cooling all over his hand and he could feel some on his chin.

His pants were half off his ass, and his spent dick was out in the open air. But he didn't really care, he felt relaxed and saited. His phone was still held tightly in his hand, the screen black now. And he realised that he hadn't responded to Daniel. He unlocked his phone, looked at the picture of Daniel, felt his dick twitch, didn't think, just snapped a photo of his spent and sent it to Daniel.

Halfway to pulling his pants up a thought struck him, and he unlocked his phone again to google for an answer. He almost threw his phone against the cubicle’s wall. Barely contained himself from screaming in frustration as he sent a message to Daniel.

TO DANIEL: Daniel, a tattoo can take up to 8 weeks to heal!?

Fuck this shit. He had waited for nearly a decade for a sign from Daniel that he would be interested. And now that he has got his answer it was going to take eight fucking weeks before he could lick, bite and fucking push his hands into the gold of his name on Daniel's back. Fuck this shit.

Max Verstappen was a four times world champion. He played to win, took the gap no matter how small if it meant he could win it all. Daniel had given him a free and open invite for the rest of his life, and Max was not going to let Daniel have a chance to ever doubt his decision to make him Max’s.

TO DANIEL: Daniel. This means you are mine now, and it is of course only fair if you know I am yours. I always wanted a tattoo, and “3” is my favourite number.

[fa1rysugar]

Studying Motivation

Trey Clover x Female Afab Reader

Trigger Warnings: Cockwarming, Aged up Trey, Trey is soft dom, Female Afab Reader, Kinda based off a porn I saw lol I'd link it but I don't really wanna go find it again-, Desk fucking, bad writing, spelling mistakes, hair pulling, sort of rough, trey gets kinda mean, I don't know how to write very good smut lmao, creampie.

Request are open, send them in I'm starting to write shit I think of at 1 am well watching Kurtis Conner and it's not okay.

“Sweetie stop- shit” He moaned as you tried to wiggle your hips on his cock. “No- study then I'll fuck you.” He said holding your hips still. Your shirt above your tits your skirt lifted up to bury his cock in your sweet tight cunt. You huffed in annoyance. You looked back at your books. You knew there was no point in trying to beg or argue. You were failing your potions class and this was a great way to force you to study. He knew bribing you to study would work. It would probably work if he bribed you with pastries, but he still wanted to have a little fun. You were his pretty girl so why not reward you properly after you study. He knew it was going to take a while to finish the whole book but he could wait. He was a patient man after all.

After you finished the book and taking the notes you huffed out. “Treyy I'm done” you whined grinding your hips down on his cock. He looked up from his phone smiling at you “Good girl, I'm proud of you” He says kissing your neck thrusting his hips forward making you moan out. His hands grabbing your waist helping you fuck yourself on his cock. Your eyes rolling in the back of your skull. Your hands gripping at his shoulders. He wasn't fucking you rough but after having his cock in you for so long it felt amazing. You felt like you could cum so quickly. Having to sit there as his cock twitched inside you.

"Baby fuck- gonna cum inside you okay?" He groaned hiting you with one final thrust his cum squirting inside you as you spasmed (? Girl idk) around his cock. Cumming around his cock. He held you to his chest.

"So good for me love."

Spelling and grammar mistakes like happen. I apologize but English is not my first language and my autocorrect sometimes just doesn't want to work.

A/n: Everytime i write i feel like it reads so cringey and like I'm writing a 2018 y/n fanfiction bc I know nothing about sex 😭😭😭 I'm so sorry.

[heehoonies]

anytime

request: heejakehoon but Jake cannot wrap his head around the fact he’s bi until he’s confronted by his two best friends who happen to be bfs (they fuck to help him realize 🤭)

wc: 3.6k

soft dom!heehoon x sub!jake.

now playing: middle of somewhere by the neighbourhood

jake’s entire life, he’s been secure in everything he’s done. sure, a few mistakes came through here and there, leading to regret mixed with equal amounts of shame, a potentially dangerous cocktail for his mental health. but every single time, he’s been able to handle it, telling himself he’s not a bad person, and that those instances don’t define him as a person. that he’s good, inside and out, and jake is well aware of his character. a kind man who cares about others, often times more than himself. high energy and big smiles, clingy touches with his friends to show his affection because words somehow never feel like enough. coffee dates and shopping to spend time together, checking in with his members constantly to make sure everyone is okay, knowing he appreciates when they reciprocate in kind for him.

it’s in the quality time and clingy behavior that jake finds his… dilemma, per say.

jake is the type of person to speak his mind, usually seeking out the guidance of jungwon as his leader to word vomit his emotions and thoughts to. won is usually able to help him work through the issues, and jake shows his appreciation through a tight hug and treating the younger man to a nice dinner, or buying him something he notes jungwon has been eyeing up for a while, knowing he sometimes hesitates when it comes to pampering himself.

but today, jake finds himself tucking himself under his comforter on his day off, a day where he usually would find one of his members, anxious to do something that exhilarates him, or at the least gets him out of their stuffy dorm. instead, jake scrolls endlessly on his phone to try and block the swimming thoughts from curling their way around his heart and breaking his entire world view with one little squeeze.

jake doesn’t think it’s a bad realization, but it’s certainly… different than how he’s lived his life up until this point.

jake has always liked women, and only women, and that’s where his current confusion lies. he has started noticing his members in different ways than he’s ever realized before.

take heeseung, for example. jake is a very clingy man, and he clings to heeseung tenfold. perhaps because he’s the only real hyung he has, jay never really acting like a hyung but more of a same age friend, only pulling out the older brother card when he wants to be a little shit to jake. which is more often than he’d like…

but jake has found himself longing to simply hold heeseung more recently, a thought that makes shame burn in his belly knowing that heeseung is a taken man and is totally off limits. and that’s when it hits jake… why is heeseung being a taken man making him feel ashamed? he’s not doing anything to him, but the thoughts he’s having…

the more they swirl in jake’s tired little brain, the more frustrated and confused he feels with his current predicament.

so now he sits, eyes zoned out on the screen before him as a tv show plays lowly in the background, thankful that they’ve finally moved into their new dorm, where he has his own room. his own room that he can hide from his members, and the whole world, in, wallowing in his self pity and bewilderment on his lonesome.

jake smiles lightly at his leader’s insistence on taking care of him, even when they’re not working.

jungwon: sure you don’t want to come?

jungwon: if you need anything, jay hyung’s in the living room about to take a nap and heeseung hyung and sunghoon hyung are upstairs

jake: i’m good, thanks won

jake frowns at the thought, knowing how absolutely exhausted jay must be to refuse an outing with the members. hearing sunoo call out a faint ‘bye, hyung!’ to him (and maybe jay) before the pair shuts the door behind him makes his smile return for a moment, before jake’s neutral face takes over as he resumes doom-scrolling on his phone.

jake sighs as he presses his face deep into the pillows, willing his brain to finally just be quiet, at least for a little while. jake knows what all of this means, but knowing doesn’t make the process of acceptance any easier. straying from the norm of how he’s always lived is the part that is bothering him the most, and wondering what it means for him as well his professional life.

would his members think he’s weird?

no, there’s no way they would. not with heeseung and sunghoon around, all members already expressing their heartfelt blessings towards the pair that they all somehow predicted would end up together.

jake doesn’t notice the way his hands are slowly balling themselves into fists as they lay at his sides while thinking about how happy he knows his two best friends are. he doesn’t want them to break up, obviously not, as their happiness is paramount to his own. knowing his friends are happy makes it easier for jake to be happy. on the contrary, actually, the thought makes him… jealous.

jealous that they’ve both already figured everything out, already experienced this internal turmoil of your entire self perception being tilted on its head instantaneously. jealous that they’ve each found someone to spend their life with, jealous, most of all, that he doesn’t even know how it feels.

jake is jealous, a fact that he would never admit willingly out loud. and he’s wrestling with his own mind, trying to figure out why, above all else, that he is figuring this out about himself, and no one seems to notice. sure, he’s trapped himself in his room at every waking moment since he started to question it, but heeseung and sunghoon had each other to help work through their emotions, remembering vividly how the pair were glued at the hip for weeks before finally revealing to everyone that they’re a couple.

jake longs for someone to hold him the way he sees heeseung hold sunghoon, petting his hair and stroking his back as sunghoon plays on his phone, or watches tv, or argues with jay about something pointless, an argument jake usually jumps into himself. and its during these arguments, or moments of peace, where jake finds himself staring, almost longingly, at sunghoon’s gorgeous profile, the satisfying, delicate slope of his strong nose, the cut of his sharp jaw, the constellation of beauty marks that adorn his face.

the thought of staring at sunghoon’s face paints his own in a light blush, skin running impossibly hot at the thought of sunghoon catching his longing gaze.

the core of his problem is, jake doesn’t know if he feels this way because he’s slowly discovering he’s bisexual, or if it’s because he has a crush on the pair.

because of course jake can’t just pick one man in a relationship, he has to long for both.

how selfish.

jake finds himself flicking through his phone to the youtube app, fingers working mindlessly until he finds a video. a fancam of heeseung from their most recent comeback xo, in a black sleeveless top and thin wire frame silver glasses. the first move already has jake nearly salivating, heeseung jerking his head back slowly and showing off the prominent bulge of his adam’s apple. jake groans, feeling so gross, wondering if he’s really about to jerk it to his best friend’s fancam, but jake can’t look away. he has no idea how he got here, his fingers tapping on their own accord to take him here.

he tries to push the thought away, along with all the conflicting ideas rushing in in their absence. jake decides to simply watch, gripping the phone tightly with both hands. he marvels at heeseung’s peachy pink hair as it falls down his face gracefully with every move, hair that he’s allowed to wash out into a faded orange that suits his skin color beautifully.

jake catches a view of sunghoon in the background, dancing in time with heeseung, neck and collarbone exposed beautifully under his black long sleeve. the sight of his milky skin stirs something deep inside jake’s belly, his current reaction mirroring every single time he’s looked at sunghoon since jake started feeling so confused.

after the video finishes, jake clicks on the matching sunghoon video that appears in the recommended section below, entranced by sunghoon’s slender body, concealed by baggier clothes, hitting every move with confidence a bit of his own style thrown in the mix. seeing his best friend in his element, moving his body in such a skillful way, fills jake with simultaneous attraction and pride. jake’s proud of how far they’ve come together from all those years ago as trainees, proud that he’s been able to watch sunghoon grow, and most of all, proud that sunghoon is proud of him, too.

the video ends with a black screen, jake seeing his own reflection staring back at him. the sight of his blushing cheeks makes jake groan, rising suddenly, his feet unknowingly taking him upstairs after seeing that jay is, in fact, fast asleep on the couch. he enters the upstairs dorm room, searching for heeseung and sunghoon.

“sunghoon?” jake calls out, peering around corners looking for him.

“jake?” sunghoon yells from his bedroom, “we’re in here!”

jake trudges over, finding sunghoon digging through his closet as heeseung lies on the bed, scrolling on his phone. the pair both look at him with kind eyes, happy that their best friend is here.

“are you feeling any better?” heeseung locks his phone and slides it onto the side table to give all his attention to jake.

jake shakes his head, thoughts running a mile a minute as he stands here, not entirely sure what his plan was. “no, not really.” heeseung pats the bed lightly and jake sits there, eyes watching his older friend.

“want to finally talk about it?”

jake shrugs, not knowing where to begin, or if he even wants to reveal his insecurities and bare his soul to the pair. jake knows the internal turmoil thrumming through him will cause the two to look at him strangely,  “i– i don’t know, really, what’s going on with me…”

heeseung offers him a small, sad smile, “well, whatever you tell us might help us figure out what’s wrong.” sunghoon turns around now, done putting away his laundry, and walks towards them on the bed, leaning against the wall.

jake’s silent for a beat before he mumbles, “i’m having… new feelings.” heeseung and sunghoon stay quiet, urging him to continue through their silence. “my whole life, i’ve always liked g– something, but now all of a sudden, i think i like something else, too…” he speaks vaguely, hoping neither of them catch on to what he’s saying.

sunghoon feels something stir deep in his chest, having an inkling of what jake might be getting at, something he’s all too familiar with.

“and it’s really… making me wonder if i’ve been living my life as a lie this entire time.”

heeseung’s lips curve into a frown at jake’s words, feeling like he’s grasping at straws trying to figure out what jake is truly talking about, “you’re not living a lie, jake. you’re still you, no matter whether you’ve liked this… thing the whole time or not.” 

sunghoon rises from the wall, coming to approach the side of the bed. he grasps jake’s chin between his fingers gently, tilting his head up. “be honest when i ask you this, okay?” jake nods, watching sunghoon with puppy eyes that make sunghoon’s chest nearly curl in on itself.

“what would you say if i asked to kiss you, jake?”

the lightbulb flicks on in heeseung’s head, a small, knowing smile enveloping his lips as he glances up at his boyfriend. his hunch was right.

jake’s face goes pale, “w-what?”

“you heard me. what would you say?”

“i-i–” jake’s mouth opens and shuts a few times, words refusing to spill. sunghoon grips ever so slightly on jake’s chin, urging his attention to return to sunghoon’s trained gaze.

“yes.”

sunghoon smiles at that, gaze traveling to heeseung, the pair sharing a secret conversation with only their eyes. content, sunghoon turns back to jake, “can i kiss you, jakey?”

jake nods quickly, his resolve now broken, wondering if this moment will help him figure out… whatever the hell is going on with him.

sunghoon leans down, meeting jake’s pillowy lips in a gentle embrace, lips slotting together perfectly. jake is timid at first and sunghoon returns in tandem by pressing further against his lips, urging him to go harder, feel deeper. the hand gripping his chin travels to cup his cheek, rubbing his cheekbone gently to soothe his nerves.

jake’s mind is completely blank, the only thing running through it being sunghoon, sunghoon, sunghoon. his hand grips sunghoon’s waist, pulling him closer and onto the bed, their kiss breaking for a moment at sunghoon falling on the bed. jake chases his lips instantly, sunghoon kissing back chastely before pulling back.

“slow down there, jakey.” sunghoon smiles, pressing a small peck against his lips before watching the boy in front of him, his best friend, the one with the kind eyes and bright smile. “we’ve got all day and nobody’s going anywhere, don’t worry.”

jake’s gaze turns to heeseung, shame burning in his belly, “heeseung, i’m sorry, i–”

heeseung cuts the boy off by kissing him, jake’s lips already red and puffy from just a few kisses with sunghoon. heeseung smiles into the kiss, biting lightly on jake’s lower lip. sunghoon’s hand snakes to jake’s growing hard on, one that he was blissfully unaware of due to the two names running laps in his mind.

“don’t apologize,” heeseung shakes his head lightly as he pulls away just enough to where he can feel jake’s breath on his skin. jake already feels so far gone already just from a little bit of kissing. “do you want sunghoon and i to help you figure out if you really do like that other thing?”

jake nods with a small smile, thankful that his friends understand his stupid and vague answer, or at least seem to understand.

heeseung smiles, capturing jake’s lips in another kiss, this one a bit rougher than before, but still gentle enough to keep jake on this side of the planet. heeseung and sunghoon know that jake is too vulnerable right now to be anything but absolutely gentle with him. heeseung pokes at the seal of jake’s lips with his tongue and jake grants him entrance, moaning against heeseung’s mouth as his wet muscle explores jake’s hot mouth. heeseung wonders for a fleeting moment how his mouth would feel wrapped around his cock, curious if he’d be eager to gag and deepthroat, or if he’d have to be taught by the pair. but he pushes the thought aside, the full intent of right now being to help jake.

sunghoon squeezes jake’s now fully hard erection through his black sweatpants, sliding up and down slowly before dipping his hand beneath the waistband, the only barrier between his hand and jake’s cock being a pair of thin boxer briefs.

heeseung pulls away when jake’s mouth begins to twitch, eager to hear his sounds without the suppression of his own mouth, “s-sunghoon–” jake whimpers, the sound shooting straight down to both men’s cocks. heeseung swallows his own moan, eyes growing hungrier as he watches jake squirm in sunghoon’s grip. “please–” he whines, though he doesn’t know what he’s even whining for.

sunghoon chuckles, “please, what?” he asks, actually wanting to know what jake has to say. he gets no response, though, so he decides to tug the sweatpants off jake’s legs. heeseung helps remove his shirt, and jake feels awfully exposed in just his underwear, sitting with legs spread open for his two best friends. sunghoon can feel him shaking under his hold, “hey, you’re okay,” sunghoon reassures him, “we’re gonna make you feel good, okay? and if you don’t like something, just tell us to stop or tap one of us three times, okay?”

jake nods in understanding, his mind still racing with the thoughts of them, them, them, “can you… can you take your shirts off, too?”

sunghoon nearly cums on the spot, seeing jake already so pliant sitting in front of him, allowing his best friends to help him with his identity problem. the pair complies, and the sight of two pairs of toned abs makes jake nearly drool.

“you look like a puppy.”

well, jake guesses he did drool.

the sound that comes out of jake is nearly inaudible, but heeseung catches it, his ears attuned to quiet sounds from the way sunghoon likes to mumble sometimes. “oh, he liked that. you liked being called puppy, jakey?”

jake would usually try to fight such an accusation, denying vehemently due to how much embarrassment a name like that brings, but in this situation? it makes jake grow needier, his quiet whines slowly growing in volume.

sunghoon rises to his feet, tugging jake’s legs to hang off the side of his bed before sinking to his knees between them. heeseung shuffles so he’s sitting flush with jake, the man’s back pressed against heeseung’s stomach.

“w-wha–”

“lemme suck you off, jakey. please?” sunghoon peers up at him with wide eyes, his need to have a dick in his mouth peaking as he stares at the bulge before him.

jake nods lightly, and heeseung helps him lift his hips as sunghoon tugs his boxer briefs down to pool at his ankles. the sight of jake’s length makes sunghoon’s mouth water. a decent length and girth, nothing bigger than heeseung, but decent and mouthwatering nonetheless. paired with a blushing mushroom tip and a veiny shaft, sunghoon uses all his willpower to not shove it so far down that he gags instantly, trying to focus this experience on jake.

sunghoon starts with a few kitten licks at the tip, jake already bucking his hips up in the air with each sensation. heeseung busies his hands by holding one of jake’s, the other playing with his nipple gently. sunghoon takes the tip in his mouth now, sucking a bit harshly, before puffing his cheeks out and slowly working his way down the shaft. drool has already begun to drip from the corners of his mouth. “our hoonie has a bit of an oral fixation,” heeseung explains, pressing a kiss to a new spot on jake’s shoulders every few moments. he rests his head to watch his boyfriend showcase his skills below, now reaching the base of jake’s cock.

jake’s eyes roll into the back of his head. sunghoon’s mouth wraps him in warmth, the texture of his cheeks sliding all the way down before rushing forward, his tip pushing down into his throat is enough to make him groan loudly.

“love your pretty sounds, puppy,” heeseung smiles at him, pinching his nipple harshly before turning to play with the other one. jake’s hand grips heeseung’s harsher for a moment as sunghoon sucks especially harshly while sitting with his nose pressed to jake’s pelvis.

“shit, hoon–” he gasps, a mix of a whimper and a whine coming out when he licks directly in jake’s slit before deepthroating him again. sunghoon grasps jake’s balls, toying with them lightly. jake’s body begins to buzz, his orgasm quickly approaching.

“you gonna cum down hoonie’s throat, baby boy?”

jake nods quickly, turning to face heeseung and kiss him sloppily, too fucked out to be anything other than absolutely messy, a fact that makes heeseung ever hornier for the man before him.

“look at hoonie when you cum.” he commands in a tone jake has never heard before, the sound pushing him further to the edge. seeing sunghoon’s staring up at him with an innocent gaze in deep contrast to seeing jake’s own cock shoved deep in his throat, slight gagging and gurgling noises ruminating from the man between his knees, makes jake’s rubber band snap harshly. jake cums, his abs clenching for the force of it, sunghoon sucking down every bit of it that rushes out, swallowing around his dick. jake nearly pushes him away at the feeling, but heeseung holds him still until he’s fully spent. heeseung waits until jake has stopped shaking to loosen his grip on the man.

“did so good for us, puppy.” heeseung kisses him lightly. sunghoon swallows the rest down before popping off of his length, rising to his feet to press a sweet kiss to jake’s lips. jake tastes his own release on sunghoon’s tongue, the saltiness and sunghoon’s lack of resistance to swallowing the liquid almost making him start to grow hard again.

jake feels utterly spent, sure that he’s the most he’s ever cum in his entire life. sunghoon redresses him in his underwear, heeseung helping him up to the headboard after. jake lays against the pillows, watching the couple before him and their matching hard ons, guilt spreading across his collarbones and seeping into his flesh. “what about you guys?”

they shake their heads in unison, coming to lay on either side of jake. “don’t worry about us, jake.” sunghoon reassures him, pressing a kiss to his forehead, “that was for you, not us. you’re still figuring things out, and we thought that might help.”

jake nods in understanding, knowing the pair have him all figured out. a million thoughts begin to bang on his brain, begging to enter, to dance around his head and mock him with their contradictory, confusing words and questions. jake wills them away the best he can as he tries to stay in this moment here with them, to etch it into his mind forever, knowing it will soon be just a fleeting memory. “it… it did, thank you.”

“anytime, puppy.”