#lists of things I have to then re-read or re-play or re-watch

[lowkeyren]

BUT YOU BELONG TO ME!

in which — some jealousy headcanons / scenarios for our favourite luofu men!

featuring — dan heng, blade, jing yuan (separately) x gn!reader

wc: total 1.8k, from req: here!, they're so silly goodbye, march + fu xuan cameo ;) reblogs w comments are appreciated, please enjoy!!!

#DAN HENG

look me in the eyes and tell me dan heng wouldn’t be the “i'm jealous, but i don’t wanna show it” (but it’s so PAINFULLY obvious that he’s jealous) type, you can’t.

definitely amusing to watch him play it cool, cus he has nothing else going on in his brain when you’re within 10 metre radius from him. 

honestly it would have to be quite specific situations if he ever gets jealous because he likes to keep you close by his side as often as possible. dating or not, he would have some sort of protective instinct —always making sure you’re secure and cared for. (and yes of course march teases him for it, he never admits it though.)

dan heng tries to focus on the book in his hands, but his mind refuses to make any sense of the words on the page —at least not when you’re standing so close to boothill. (too close for his liking anyway)

the cyborg sits at the opposite end of the couch where dan heng was, while you deftly adjust a compartment of his, engaging in small talk as he makes lighthearted jokes with you. dan heng hears your laughter ring out; the laughter that he adores so dearly, the laughter that never fails to warm his chest, and the laughter he wishes he was the reason for instead.

his eyes flicker up from the page to sneak a glance at you, the way your hands glide over boothill's body churns an ugly feeling, twisting in his chest. he shifts in his seat, trying to find a more comfortable position, but the unease remains.

his focus on you is suddenly shattered by a loud voice that belongs to no other than march, "dan heng, if you grip that book any harder, you might tear off a page." she stands in front of him, hands on her waist. 

“the way i am holding my book is perfectly fine, now if you will, i must get back to re—”

“oh c’mon! we all know your ass is not actually reading that book!” he raises an eyebrow, and march only rolls her eyes in response. “it’s literally upside-down.” she teases, unable to hold back a chuckle. 

dan heng glances down at the book in his hands, finally noticing the upside-down text, to which he quickly closes the book and puts it down. "maybe i was just testing your observational skills.”

march shakes her head, "yeah right… just admit you’re too busy staring at them!”

“no i’m n—” he begins to protest but is interrupted when you suddenly appear in front of him. “staring at who?” you tilt your head curiously, and he can only hope that you don’t hear the loud thumping of his heart. 

march giggles as she runs off to who-knows-where, he silently curses her for leaving him in this predicament. he manages to regain his composure, though his cheeks retain a faint pink hue. “ahem, anyway…” he trails off when you sit down next to him, your thighs brushing against each other.

alright you can’t keep doing this to him. he’s not a cyborg but it certainly seems like he’s malfunctioning at that moment. (though he doesn't mind if you have to “repair” him next; he considers it far preferable to having your hands on boothill anyway.)

#BLADE

this guy REEKS of jealousy. 

he gets jealous over anything —saying “good night!” to an acquaintance? well unfortunately, i don’t think they’re going to be having a very good night; a friendly smile from a passerby? the sudden chill in the air accompanied by his sharp glare is enough to make them rethink their life decisions. 

and the worst part? he knows it. he's aware of how irrational his jealousy can be, but that doesn't stop the surge of possessiveness that washes over him.

(deep down, he just wants to feel secure in your attention and affection, but it’s true that his jealousy sometimes gets the better of him.) 

blade’s “things to get rid of” list exponentially grows with each passing day, ranging from general items he sees no use of, to addresses of people who have wronged you in the past. 

but there’s one item on the list that stands out from the rest, the one item he can’t seem to bring himself to get rid of, no matter how hard he tries.

37. “blade plushie”

okay but what kind of website is “stellaron hunters fan merch for sell.com” anyway? since when do they have a fanbase, and why did you have to buy a plushie of him, of all things? 

he shoots daggers at the plushie sitting on your bed, on his side of your bed. while he can't always be by your side, surely there's no need for an inferior replacement?

blade sits down beside you, discreetly moving the plushie out of the way. just as you turn to reach for it, he wraps his arm around you and snuggles up to your side; you immediately pause at his affectionate gesture; his hair brushes against your neck as he buries his face into it.

“blade.. what are you doing?” you turn your attention to him, much to his delight. 

“why not spend more time with the real deal instead of… that.” he tightens his grip around you, at this point he isn’t even trying to hide his jealousy (over a plushie lmao) anymore. 

"you mean mr. edgelord...?" you barely manage to stifle your laughter as blade shoots up beside you. doesn’t hurt to tease him for a bit, right?

“what did you say… “edgelord”?” he scoffs, his face twisting into a scowl. he can’t believe you gave that thing a nickname, how ridiculous. he makes a mental note to get rid of it asap. 

“yeah, what about it? jealous that he’s better than you?” you smirk, leaning in close to his face. perhaps you’re enjoying his expression of pure bitterness a little too much, who knew such a handsome face could look so hilariously indignant? 

his eyes twinkle in amusement, before closing in the distance. “hah, never.” his tone tinged with a touch of possessiveness that he can't quite hide.

“really? you seem like you’re about to kill it.” you wrap your arms around his neck, his expression softens for just a split second, but you’re able to catch it anyway. “would you please spare mr. edgelord if i give you a kiss?”

he doesn’t respond with words; he presses his lips against yours, gently cradling the back of your head. (you quickly turn mr. edgelord to face the wall before blade pulls you away)

maybe he’ll spare “it” for another day or so, just don’t let him catch you hugging “it” in your sleep again, alas you want “it” to suffer the same fate as the others on his list.

#JING YUAN

hmm our beloved general… well he trusts you, and believes that you won’t do anything rash; but on the other hand there are just some things that neither of you can control, whether it’s letters sent in to ask for his hand in marriage or admires trying to sweep you off your feet (before he can). 

though not many people would approach you once your relationship goes public, given that he’s the general and all. but imagine him before the two of you became official, clinging to you to fend off your admirers, and the expression on their faces when you shake your head, denying that you’re dating at all. 

“as for the situation at cloudford— general, are you even listening?” fu xuan furrows her brows, and crosses her arms, clearly annoyed. “ah my apologies lady fu, please keep going.” jing yuan only flashes a half-hearted smile at her before glancing over to your direction again.

you feel a pair of eyes boring into your back, undoubtedly jing yuan’s; but you pay it no mind, choosing to focus on the discussion at hand. his grip on his teacup tightens when he sees the foxian talking to you leans closer to catch your words. fu xuan raises an eyebrow in concern, unaware but still sensing the rising tension; his eyes visibly twitch the moment their hand brushes against yours.

“lady fu, let’s reschedule our meeting for another time. i believe i have some… important matters to attend to.” jing yuan rises up from his seat before fu xuan can reply, swiftly making his way towards you.

you’re startled by the sudden feeling of jing yuan’s arms around you, his chest pressing against your back, as he places his chin against your head. “sorry to interrupt, what’re you two discussing about?” the foxian is taken aback by the general's sudden appearance, and especially by your current position with him. 

“n-nothing general!” the foxian seems to hesitate before continuing, “if it isn’t rude to ask, are the two of you…in a relationship?” jing yuan’s face lights up with his usual lazy smile, but this time it doesn't quite reach his eyes.

your eyes widen in surprise as he presses his lips against your nape, you shiver at his touch, a rush of warmth spreads across your cheeks. you should deny it, to say that you're not in a relationship at all, but you can't bring yourself to. instead, you divert your gaze from the foxian, hoping to spare yourself any further embarrassment.

“go on, tell them.” he whispers lowly so that only you can hear him. this bastard, you’re going to give him a stern talking to after this..! “sorry to cut this short, please excuse us.” you give a polite nod before pulling the general away.

two days later, as you’re walking along the streets of central starskiff haven, you come across a group of people gathered around a stall. curious, you head over to check out what’s happening. —you’re absolutely mortified to discover stacks of articles detailing recent events of you and jing yuan.

“breaking news! the general is secretly married?!” / “the truth behind general jing yuan’s relationship status” / “rumours confirmed: a detailed guide to the general of luofu’s relationship saga”

well at least the pictures of you and jing yuan got your good side… and your bad side, and your “i definitely did not sign up for this” side. and oh look, there’s one of you dragging jing yuan by his ponytail too, how wonderful, you’re definitely purchasing that one. 

but yeah no, you’re not beating the allegations after this. 

masterlist

[charmedreincarnation]

MAYA, I MANIFESTED MY DREAM LIFE!!!!

Okay, I don't know if you remember me, but I participated in a lot of your challenges and the Pink’s challenge, and I found some success! I shifted to my wr and manifested some things, but I could never do it consistently, and it was really fucking annoying.

So, I took three months off and worked hard, using subliminals every day and going on affirmation rampages. I was doing lucid dreaming methods, SATs, meditations, yoga nidra, reading spiritual books literally my whole summer was dedicated to shifting and the void state. I was eat sleeping and breathing it because I could not continue to live the way I was even I can even consider that living …

So What did I do

I just followed your challenge because college was starting, and I couldn't go back to school without my dream life for the fourth time, fearing I might actually harm myself. So played the fields with this rampage (together in two different tabs).

During the Day

https://youtu.be/aLsn6ZK4RZ8?si=Dt_j7ChLjNsQ6tpV

https://youtu.be/gBD4Owz1GC0?si=icOkN1DoFsqP-adT

During the day, I would live in the end. I created albums for my desired realities, re-read my scripts, revised my void list because I genuinely believed I was going to succeed, watched supercell shifting videos on YouTube, and stared at my vision board, realizing it was going to be my life the next day, and more!

Overnight

https://youtu.be/JwV297pP9aw?si=Sxx-xlhE_owInoxH

https://youtu.be/DKB5I9y8SEg?si=PI-UaNw2m_VUWYy1

What I Manifested

- Master shifting abilities

- Master void state abilities

- Having my WR to be a perfect heaven

- Making this current reality a dream: desired looks, desired body, never gaining weight, revised wealth and family, dream friend group, a social media following, being worshipped and respected, being so beautiful by my own standards, dream home (I have a mountain range that goes through my backyard and a farm on my land, it’s enormous), revised city, only attracting wealthy, tall, attractive men, pretty privilege, 145 IQ, going to an Ivy League, getting rid of my anxiety and depression, getting rid of my health issues, no toxic family, so much money, and revised my name to Bella because I love Bella Hadid (my old name was Audrey), and so much more.

I know it sounds nothing too crazy compared to other people who manifest powers and trillions of dollars, but I can shift anytime I want. I’m going to my singing desired reality and high school musical Dr soon and I am so excited I have hundreds of places to explore. My life here finally has stability, and I’m so happy. Not waking up with stress, nausea, and diarrhea is a blessing. My house is clean, my family members aren’t fighting and calling me names, my siblings and I are close. I audibly gasp anytime I see myself in the mirror. My phone is always blowing up with people asking me for plans when it used to be dry as hell, and people forgot I even existed. Everywhere I go, people tell me I should model, want to pay for what I’m buying, are so kind, open doors for me, want to help me for no reason, give me discounts, ask me on dates… I’m so happy and confused. I don’t know how to feel. I am genuinely so loved and respected, and on top of that, I get to explore the universe of my favorite shows and movies.

I’m so glad I never gave up, even though these three months were hard and my life had gotten worse, I am finally free, my hard work paid off, and I hope everyone else will do the same. We truly are God! I was afraid this community was some big joke and big bloggers were creative writers or just laughing at delusional people like me, but I can confirm it’s very, very real.

My love I am so proud of you ! And yes I vaguely remember you and your first shift you messaged me about :)!

I am happy your hard work paid off as well. I remember when everything seemed so meaningless and delusional as well and I also thought shifting was some big joke to target mentally ill teens, but the reality is we truly are all god and no amount of doubt and struggle will ever change that truth. I hope you enjoy your dream life, and I am happy I could help 💖

[sundrop-writes]

BRAINWASHED

Virgin!Stiles Stilinski x Fem!Reader

Everything’s clean - except for my thoughts. (Thinking about me getting you off.)

Can’t stop thinking you got me B R A I N W A S H E D .

Summary:

Stiles likes you. He really, really, really likes you. It's bordering on obsession, but he likes to believe that he has it under control.

So when you accidentally leave a pair of your panties in his presence, ripe for the taking, and they're in his backpack faster than he can blink - he realizes that he might not have it as under control as he would like to think. But he can't find it to be too much of a problem when he has those panties wrapped around his cock.

Virgin!Stiles Stilinski x Best Friend!Fem!Reader. Pining!Stiles/One Sided Fantasies. Panty Stealing. Smut/PWP.

Word Count: 8,000

Teen Wolf Masterlist | AO3 Link

Full list of warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: the reader uses she/her pronouns and is described as having a vagina; Stiles and the reader have been best friends since childhood and they are in high school now (they are both the same age) (for argument's sake, they are both 18, but the horny parts were motivated by the hotness of a 20-something actor so idc what age you interpret the characters as); the reader's looks are mostly undescribed and left neutral in terms of race, hair texture/colour, height, etc. however the reader is implied to be fat/plus sized; mentions of the reader wearing dresses and tights (things that the other characters on the show would typically wear); mentions of the reader having a cat - I did not give the cat a name so you can imagine it's the same as your cat's name/what you would want your cat to be called if you had one; use of Y/N and L/N (as in Last Name); brief mention that the reader would like wearing bikinis; the reader calls Stiles 'good boy' in non-sexual contexts and it turns him on; mentions of Stiles looking up the reader's skirt when she doesn't know it; some slight dubious consent because Stiles steals the reader's underwear without her consent and uses them in a sexual act (his masturbation); masturbation (Stiles touching himself); this is a one-sided/pining fic - all the sexual acts take place inside Stiles's mind as sexual fantasies while he masturbates; the reader character is described in these sexual acts as they play out in his mind, so that's why she is included heavily in the warnings; Stiles is submissive (even in his own fantasies) and he fantasies about the reader being dominant toward him; Stiles becoming aroused by the idea of the reader not shaving her pussy; technically there is edging - because Stiles edges himself to make his fantasies last longer; panty sniffing (though the panties Stiles took are freshly launder and not used ones); scent kink/sweat kink - Stiles likes the way you smell, including your sweat; kinks and sexual acts mentioned only in Stiles's fantasies (taking place only in his mind in this fic): car sex (in the back of the Jeep (typical, I know)), fingering (reader receiving), degradation kink (Stiles receiving - he likes the idea of the reader insulting him and being mean to him); pussy eating (Stiles fantasizes in depth about this); Reader makes a joke about spanking Stiles and Stiles has a small fantasy about being spanked by her; I think that's finally it.

A/N: Title for the fic comes from the song Brainwashed by Waterparks. Warning - Stiles might be a bit OOC in this because I wrote it before I started re-watching Teen Wolf again (and before I started watching Season 1 for the first time, because previously I had only seen 3B and beyond). In this, I have said that he's flunking classes and he's not really great with studying, while in the show, he's really smart and bookish and really well studied - but it could just be chalked up to the fact that he has a huge crush on the Reader that is distracting him from studying. So, interpret it how you want. I hope that you enjoy it, and please read through to my end notes to find out about a potential sequel to the fic!!

...

Stiles was hopeless. 

That was the only way to describe his current state of being. Completely, utterly hopeless. 

He was a complete and total loser, hopelessly in love with his best friend. And he was getting more stupidly caught up in that crush every single day. And of course, he didn’t even have the courage to admit his feelings for you so that it could be awkwardly out in the open. So that the two of you could get the rejection part over with, at least. 

Basically - his feelings for you were slowly ruining his life. 

Stiles had been in love with you for as long as he could remember. Well, maybe not that long. 

See, you, him, and Scott had all been friends since the beginning of kindergarten, and naturally, Stiles always liked you as a person. He always thought of you as a good friend, even if he gravitated toward Scott more.  

But he distinctly remembered the first moment when he had started to develop a crush on you. It was a very special memory to him - the day when you shifted in his eyes from annoying, slightly nagging friend to a beautiful, fierce woman. 

It was the day when the three of you were out on Halloween night during the third grade - and that was around the time people started whispering about crushes in school, when people would have playground girlfriends and boyfriends that they broke up with every other week. That night, a group of eighth grade bullies began chasing the three of you, trying to take your candy. 

Without hesitation, you picked up the largest rock in sight and threw it at one of them, causing a large cut across his forehead - and you loudly told them to ‘fuck off’ (the first time Stiles had ever heard such a word when it wasn’t coming from his dad). They had run away, somehow terrified of a girl a foot shorter than them. 

That night, you had become his hero. 

And since then, you had been the only object of his affections. 

Of course, over the years, Stiles had plenty of opportunities to tell you about his feelings for you. He just… always felt too cowardly to do so. 

In seventh grade, he had come very close to asking you out to the winter dance - only to have Scott beat him to the punch. When he pulled Scott aside to ask him about it, Scott confessed to him that he also had a crush on you. This resulted in their first ever fistfight. The first ever true rift in their otherwise close, brotherly friendship. 

The boys didn’t speak to each other for days. Which, naturally, annoyed the hell out of you. Especially because, of course, neither of them told you why they were fighting, not wanting you to know that you were the source of the rift in their friendship. And to you, this only made the fight seem more stupid and immature. 

So finally, when you demanded it, they called a truce. They agreed that they didn’t want to lose their friendship or lose you. They didn’t want to make you choose between them when it wouldn’t make any of you happy. 

So Stiles proposed that the three of you should go to the dance as friends, which you loved, and they both got you a corsage, one for each wrist - and the three of you still laughed at the pictures of you holding each of their arms. 

Eventually, Scott grew out of his crush on you and moved onto other girls, and he loved that he got to keep you as a close best friend, someone he could go to for dating advice if needed. Scott kept trying to convince Stiles to simply ‘man up’ and tell you about his feelings, but Stiles kept that same sentiment they had concluded upon years ago. Telling you about his feelings would only ruin the friendship. Not just between you, but between the entire group - it would fuck up the pack. 

Though it felt like the more he tried to ignore his feelings for you, the more they festered like a tumor. While Scott was able to mature past his crush on you, Stiles only grew more intense, and more insane when it came to his ‘crush’ on you. 

Over the years, his crush on you had grown from something sweet and childish into something much more. When puberty truly took over and lust was added into the mix, he now had to deal with the fact that you had grown into a gorgeous woman. He could barely control his arousal when looking at you, hearing your voice, smelling you, talking to you, thinking about you - even simply being in your presence made something in his mind melt. And it was growing much worse with each passing day. There wasn’t a day that went by that he didn’t wake up with a raging boner fueled by sexual dreams of you. 

And naturally, he would say that not telling you about his feelings for you was ultimately the best thing for him. He would steadfastly refuse to admit that him being distracted by all these fantasies of you was slowly eroding your friendship from the inside out. Slowly, bit by bit, his worst fears were coming true - your friendship was being ruined by his crush anyway. 

But he tried to ignore that. Even if you were the most gorgeous, perfect being ever put on the planet, he tried his hardest to simply enjoy the platonic version of you. He tried to act like he wasn’t stupidly, head over heels in love with you. 

He tried not to act like it. 

But on nights like this, it was just so hard. 

Tonight, the two of you were studying for an upcoming English mid-term that would be worth a decent portion of your final grade. 

Logically, Stiles knew that he should have locked himself in his room and forced himself to study independently. Or he should have taken up Scott on his offer to study with him and Allison. 

But no, he just had to ask you for your ‘help’. 

And you pitied him and said yes, because he was doing poorly in the class. The only reason for that being because it was one of the classes that he shared with you, and he spent all of his damn time staring at you across the room during it. He had tried to tell himself that he really would study tonight, that he would really take advantage of your intelligence here and now to get his shit together in order to up his grade. 

But no. That was just one of many daily lies that he told himself. Since the moment he had set foot in your bedroom that afternoon (and it was dark out now, well into the evening) - he hadn’t been able to focus on anything but you. 

Sure, sometimes that worked to his benefit. Hearing you recite Shakespeare, the words coming off your sweet lips - it did force him to focus on the material at hand for at least a short period of time. But it wasn’t like he was actually retaining any of it. He was just thinking about how gorgeous your voice sounded and how amazing you would be in an adaptation of Romeo and Juliet. One where he played Romeo, of course - and he would get to use someone else’s well-crafted words to romance you, finally getting to kiss you for the first time. 

Again - he was hopeless. 

Currently, Stiles was laying diagonally on your bed, sitting among a mess of books - the English textbooks, the assigned novels, the published copies of the play, along with binders of your notes and other notebooks, stray papers. He couldn’t pay attention to the notes he was supposed to be writing, not for a moment, not if his life depended on it. Not when you looked this stunningly beautiful while busy writing your own notes. 

With the soft lighting from your bedside lamp brushing across your skin, making that skin look even softer, you were a goddess-like vision sitting on the bed across from him. You were wearing the simple dress that you had worn to school earlier that day, your modest tights since shed off in the name of ‘comfort’ (and so that your cat wouldn’t rip holes in them while crawling across your lap, you had remarked to Stiles). When you had stood at your hamper and peeled them off your legs, Stiles had a hard time not letting the drool spill out across his chin. 

Your thighs were gorgeous. Thick, wide, spread out like a buffet for his eyes to feast on every single time you sat down. From his angle, laying down the way he was, he was up close and personal with the dimpling cellulite and stretchmarks you had there. The hem of your dress had ridden up when you had adjusted your position to get comfortable, and he felt absolutely spoiled by how much more of your thighs were revealed to him.��

A few times throughout the evening, he had to physically clench his fingers, tight, to remind himself not to reach out and touch. To remind himself that he wasn’t allowed to touch. The last thing he wanted to do was to creep you out by randomly reaching out and touching your thigh. But he wanted so badly to touch. 

How many times had he imagined what those thighs would look like bouncing and jiggling while you rode his cock? How many times had he imagined those thighs clamped around his head while he licked your pussy? (Far too many times for the good of his own sanity.) 

Not to mention the concentration spread across your face - you were so fucking hot when you showed off your intelligence. Hell everything about you was hot - your sweetness, your laughter, your sarcasm, even your bitchy side. But your bookish side had to be one of Stiles’s favorites. 

The way you would nibble your own lip when thinking, the way your brows furrowed slightly in thought. Everything about you - from the bra strap sticking out of the neckline of your dress to the chipped edge of your nail polish where you had chewed on it - you were a fucking vision. And Stiles couldn’t take his eyes off you, no matter how hard he tried. 

It was a wonder that you didn’t notice Stiles staring at you - not as often as he did it. 

Stiles felt strangely caught when you put down your pen and looked up from your notebook, then. He quickly scrambled to grab his own pencil and start writing something, to look busy. But of course, he just looked like more of an idiot when the eraser end began scraping across the page in nonsense patterns. 

“Stiles,” You scolded him with a sigh, a way he was used to hearing his name come off your lips. “Have you gotten anything done? I told you to copy down at least half my notes-” 

Of course. You pegged his blank page as simple laziness, rather than his brain slowly melting out through his ears due to his inability to think about anything but you (especially when he was in the same room as you). At least he hadn’t been caught staring at you in that creepy way yet. 

You snatched up his notebook to check his work, and his heart dropped - if you looked too carefully, then he would be caught. In the back of that notebook, there were about three pages of his name and yours in hearts, and a few times he had practiced writing his signature as ‘Mr Stiles L/N’. (He was a feminist, and he liked the idea of starting a new tradition.) There was even a drawing he had made designing your theoretical wedding cake, including a cake topper where he was Superman and you were riding on his back while he was flying. 

“Y/N, uh-” 

He quickly snatched the notebook back, causing a glare from you while he sighed in defeat. 

“Fine.” He shrugged, knowing that he had to admit to a smaller crime in order to cover up the larger one. It was something that he did with his father all too often. “I didn’t get anything done. I was slacking off. You caught me.” 

“Stiles!” You scolded him again, reaching out to gently smack his shoulder. “If you keep this shit up, you’re never gonna graduate!” 

Sadly, you were probably right. His crush on you was absolutely going to ruin him. 

“Well, you could just let me copy off you,” He replied, giving you a wide grin that let you know he was mostly kidding. 

You rolled your eyes in reply, and soon your gaze caught sight of the clock on your nightstand. 

“Well, it seems like you have wasted enough of my time for tonight.” You scoffed sarcastically. 

Stiles knew that you had intended this to be a joke - but he couldn’t help the twinge of pain the words caused in his gut. The idea that he was truly just a waste of time in your life. He pressed his lips tightly together to suppress a frown and didn’t say anything more, and then you continued. 

“It’s almost your curfew anyway.” You pointed out, gesturing toward the clock. You were right. Stiles hadn’t even noticed how late it was getting - too busy enjoying his time with you. “We’ll pack it up for the night - but you should meet me at the library tomorrow morning, early, so we can go over everything again before the exam.” 

Of course, you were still invested in the idea of him getting a good grade, even if that seemed unlikely to happen. 

“You’re gonna make me get up early?” He whined, hating the idea of missing out on even ten extra minutes of sleep. 

“Yes.” You stressed. “I want you there at seven o’clock. Sharp.” 

Your ultra serious voice ordering him around was undeniably a turn-on for him. No matter what sexual fantasies Stiles cooked up about you in his mind, he could never picture himself having full control over you. In fact, most of the time, he found himself covered in cum at the idea of you having complete control over him. And it was likely because this was how most of your friendship went - you told him what to do, and he did it. And that was a huge part of why he fell for you in the first place. 

When he didn’t verbally confirm the time, too caught up in his infatuation yet again, you let out a gentle growl of frustration. 

“Stiles!” You called out his name. “You have to be there at seven. So you can’t get out of bed at seven - you have to set your alarm for like six-thirty, got it? Don’t make me come over there and get your ass out of bed like last time.” 

This thought caused Stiles’s stomach to clench. 

The last time you had come to his house to wake him up for school (because he had agreed to help you with some bakesale project and you were pissed off that he wasn’t there early to help you set up tables and whatnot) - you had charged into his house in a fury. You had your own key, of course, and his dad wasn’t there to busy you with conversation or pleasantries. 

And you charged right up the stairs and nearly caught him with a hand around his cock, jerking off to a picture of you in a bikini from the summer before. And he had rushed to shove the picture in his nightstand and cocoon himself in the comforter to hide his body just as you made it to the top of the stairs, shouting at him for being late. Luckily, he had gotten away with the lie that he had slept in, rather than revealing the truth that he had been distracted because he had woken up with morning wood after having a heated dream about you. 

When Stiles didn’t respond yet again, you grabbed a smaller decorative pillow from behind you and lightly hit him with it for emphasis, causing him to burst into laughter. 

“Promise me you’ll be on time!” You said, smacking him with the pillow again. 

“Yes, yes! I promise!” He finally agreed, his face becoming pink from laughter. 

You dropped the pillow then, and leaned down, causing his eyes to inadvertently go straight to your cleavage while you gave him a gentle, friendly kiss on the forehead. 

“Good boy.” You responded, praising him for agreeing to your terms. Obviously, it was another joke. 

But these praising words combined with your lips even slightly brushing against his skin, along with your tits dangling so close to his face, had his cock swelling to hardness nearly instantly. He grabbed the pillow then, trying to look subtle as he put it over his crotch, desperately trying to hide the very obvious bulge that had popped up at the front of his jeans within seconds. 

He was lucky when you shifted your attention away from him, now busy with cleaning off the bed, gathering your textbooks in a pile and moving to put them on your desk in the corner. You being distracted gave him a few moments to try and mentally will his dick down, which worked slightly. Only slightly. 

“You could help me, you know.” You mocked him lightly - distracting him from his thoughts of baseball, trying to will the blood out of his cock. 

He looked up and saw you standing there with his backpack, putting away his textbooks and notebooks now. He had been so dumbly distracted by his own dick that he hadn’t noticed you taking the kind initiative to clean up his things for him too. 

“Right, sorry.” He jumped into action and did so, taking things from your hands and shoving them into his bag with haste. 

“You don’t have to rush out, I just need the bed cleared off so I can pick out my clothes for tomorrow.” You told him. 

“Wait - you actually pick out your clothes in advance?” He asked, thinking that this was entirely adorable, and explained why you were always so well dressed. 

(And it explained why you were always so punctual in the mornings while Stiles was usually a mess - running around his house still half-asleep, shoving his head into a shirt that he had sniffed to see if it was clean, shoving things frantically into his bag in order to get out the door five minutes late.) 

“Well you know not all of us are okay with just throwing on last week’s mustard stained tee shirt,” You said, playfully pointing to a mustard stain that he had on his shirt from lunch. 

He rolled his eyes in return, trying to ignore the slight twist of embarrassment that wanted to swell up inside of him at the comment. 

There had been a point where he used to make a very pointed effort to impress you. Back when his crush on you had first gotten serious - likely around the beginning of high school. He used to get up early every single morning, spending a lot of time being intensely picky about the clothes he wore. He drowned himself in cologne (until you had complained about it), he wore certain colors just because you mentioned liking them. But none of it seemed to garner any more of your attention than usual. 

And so, he resigned himself to be the loser best friend who would always just float at the corners of your life, drowning in his secret affection for you until some better, hotter guy came along and swept you off your feet one day. 

He was just glad that day hadn’t come yet. 

Stiles was hesitant to leave - he wasn’t done being around you for the day yet, too emotionally attached. But he guessed that he would need to get some decent sleep before waking up at the asscrack of dawn in order to see more of you the next morning. (Even if it would include the horrors of studying at the library.) 

“So - I’ll see you tomorrow morning?” He posed, ready to take his leave as he swung his backpack over his shoulder. 

“Ooh, wait one second.” You said, eagerness twinging through your voice. 

His heart pounded hard in his chest for a moment, wondering if this could be the moment he had been waiting so long for - would you stop him there, grab him by the shoulders and kiss him hard, and then tell him that you had been feeling the exact same way as he had for all these years? 

“Which one?” You asked, spinning around from your closet to face him, holding up two dresses on hangers. 

Oh. You were asking for his opinion about what you should wear to school the next day. 

“The blue one.” Stiles said, motioning towards it. “That shade of blue looks beautiful on you - it compliments your skin tone well, and it makes you shine. But ya know, you look gorgeous in everything. You could wear a paper bag to school and everyone would still be jealous of how amazing you look.” 

He rambled on for a moment too long, and realized that his genuine fondness for you - something straying too far into romantic territory - was slipping out. 

“But - uh, yeah. I’ll see you later.” He quickly added on, now eager to leave before you could make any further comments. 

Then he dashed out of your room and down the stairs, getting out the front door so fast that he practically left a poof of cartoon dust behind him. 

He got into the Jeep and tossed his bag into the passenger’s seat - which, he hadn’t realized was not even zipped up. (A habit you often scolded him for - going around with his bag unzipped.) Papers and books spilled across the seat and underneath it, and he let out a loud growl of frustration. 

“Idiot!” He screamed, scolding himself as he leaned down, trying to clean everything up. “Idiot, idiot, idiot!” 

Partially, he was feeling so idiotic because he had just been so vulnerable with you and you probably thought he was weird for it. Actually, that was mostly why. 

As he was picking up his things, he realized that - yup, he was missing his English textbook. He had forgotten it in your room. He heaved out a sigh and collapsed back against his seat. He could leave without it - but then he would get an earful from you in the morning about how he was ‘forgetful’ and ‘irresponsible’. Ugh. 

He got out of the Jeep again and shuffled his way back into your house - your mom was working late, so there was nobody there to question him running out of the house at top speed and then appearing back so soon. All he got was a curious chirp and a head tilt from your cat, who was sitting on the top of the stairs. 

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Stiles remarked to the animal, stopping for a moment to pet him. “I’m pathetic. But you can’t rat me out, okay? I know she thinks highly of your opinion and I need you to put in a good word for me. Got it?” 

The cat purred and pushed his face into Stiles’s hand, so he assumed that was a positive affirmation that he would root for Stiles - or at the very least, keep his secret. 

Stiles linger for a moment to scratch the cat’s furry cheek, and then he stepped over the cat and made his way back toward your room. He passed the closed bathroom door and heard the shower running, and he almost cheered. If you were in the shower, then you wouldn’t notice him slipping back in to grab his book, so you couldn’t scold him for being a forgetful idiot. 

He went into your room, and the second he made it through the mouth of your open bedroom, his eyes locked onto your bed like a hot target. Your clothes for the following day were spread out so neatly, and right there, on top of the blue dress he had suggested - there was a pair of lacy purple panties that were something right out of one of his fantasies. 

Stiles had thought about your underwear before - many times. Too many times to count. 

He had even caught small, passing glimpses of your underwear before - when you had worn dresses without tights and bent over in front of him. But he had only seen enough of it to determine the color, not to know if it was lacy or silk or cotton. And even that was enough to send him into a tailspin that had him rushing to the bathroom to relieve his aching cock. 

In the back of his mind - or truly, the forefront of his mind whenever he jerked off to thoughts of you - he always wondered what kind of underwear you wore. What kind of decorative wrapping your pretty pussy would come in if he ever got the other-worldly privilege of getting his hands up your skirt. 

Would they be simple, practical cotton underwear? Would they be cute? Would they be sinfully sexy? Would they be those underwear with the days of the week written across the front? 

But seeing this now - seeing the tangible evidence in front of him that you actually planned to wear purple lacy lingerie to school - it was something that had all sense draining from his mind as blood rushed to his cock once again. He barely had time to think about it - and he didn’t think about it. Because then, they were in his hands, in his pocket, and he was back in the Jeep, hiding his stolen goods in his bag and hastily zipping it up so he could slam his foot on the gas and race home. 

He didn’t even have a chance to think about the fact that he left without the textbook that he had gone back into your room looking for. He didn’t have the attention span to notice that said textbook was in a stack along with your own - almost as if purposefully kept there like an excuse to lure him back into your room, rather than clumsily forgotten by him. 

… 

When Stiles got into his room, he slammed his bedroom door shut behind him, now entirely frantic, and thankful that his father was working a late shift again. He sat down on the edge of his bed, his hands shaking with anticipation as he unzipped his bag and pulled out the thing he had so hastily snagged. 

His mind was warring with so many sensations. Guilt for taking the panties, paranoia that he would get caught, shame that he even had the urge to take them in the first place - but all of that was easily toppled over and forgotten in the name of lust. Overwhelming lust and arousal that he felt for you. Greed and joy at knowing that he had something so private of yours in his hands now - something so secret that he shouldn’t have. A perfect little piece of you. 

His little secret piece of you. 

He still couldn’t believe that this was the kind of underwear you wore on a daily basis. 

Just imagining that this was what you wore to school - thinking about the fact that this was what you were wearing under your clothes during your everyday interactions with him: it drove him wild. 

He easily pictured this pretty lace sticking to your cunt when you were wet, the lavender colored material getting slick and slightly darker, soaked through and visibly sticky when you spread your legs for him to see. He wondered if your pussy would be shaved or not - but you didn’t have a boyfriend, so currently, you didn’t have anybody to shave for. 

He remembered a conversation from a few weeks ago where Scott had wondered if he should shave his pubes for Allison and you had remarked that ‘putting a razor near your junk’ was ‘ill-advised and stupid’ - so you probably didn’t even like shaving your pussy on principle. 

This immediately put a picture in his mind of your pussy being covered in soft hair that matched the shade on your head - maybe a bit darker. It would clump together with your juices and become soaked when you got wet. The little hairs would probably stick out cutely from the sides of the bikini cut underwear, peeking at him. 

Your pussy would be the prettiest thing he had ever seen, he knew that for certain. 

Stiles imagined getting you in the backseat of the Jeep one night after a game. 

He would still be covered in sweat from his efforts, worn out from trying his best. Sure, he wasn’t the best player, but you wanted to ‘reward’ him for his efforts on the winning side, even if he hadn’t directly contributed to the win. 

So as soon as the game was over, before he even had time to change out of his pads or shower, you hauled him to the parking lot and shoved him into the car. His gear was only half-off, ditched hastily by your feet, and you were in his lap - a perfect prize after all the hard work he had done, sitting astride his already sore thigh muscles while you kissed him - hard. Your mouth greedily sucked the oxygen out of his lungs while you shoved your tongue past his lips, painting his tongue with your sweet spit - and fuck, it felt like he was made for this. 

He got sucked so deep into the fantasy - it felt so damn real. 

He imagined having his hands splayed out against your beautiful, plump ass, gripping you tightly, noting wanting you to separate from him for even a section. While you held on tightly to his face, sealing him into the kiss until his lips were sore. And you would only pull back to look into his eyes with glossy desperation and utter out: 

“Please, Stiles. I need you. I need you to touch my pussy.” 

And what else could he do but obey? 

So he would lift up your skirt - a particularly short skirt that you had worn with nothing else but a pair of knee-high socks. Something that you knew he loved to see you cheer for him on the sidelines while wearing. Even though it was a chilly night, you couldn’t feel too cold when you saw him glancing at you every single chance he got. Of course, those distracted stares had gotten him screamed at by Coach more than once. But he loved the way your skirt would flutter up in the nighttime breeze, teasing him. The way the fucking beautiful thick fat of your thighs would jiggle whenever you would jump around in order to cheer him on. 

He was a man of simple, divine tastes. 

So - he would lift up that perfect skirt to find those purple lacy panties underneath; to find the perfection of your wet cunt waiting for him, growing slicker by the second, more needy for him. You were humping yourself against his athletic cup, which his hard cock was practically dying inside of, bursting to get out of the hard shell of plastic to touch you. But he ignored his own needs for a few minutes longer in favor of yours. Reaching forward, sliding his fingers along the wet spot at the front of your panties, absolutely indulging in the beautiful gasp you let out when his touch grazed across your swollen clit through the fabric. 

“Stiles, please.” 

He could almost hear it - it was so fucking clear inside his mind. The way your voice would be so pitched with desperation, so perfectly needy curled around his name. He wanted so badly to hear it in real life. 

And he would push those panties to the side, pushing his fingers inside of your hot, wet cunt-

Back in the real world, Stiles’s cock gave a needy pulse, leaking into his boxers. 

He heaved out a sigh, his cock practically vibrating with blood. He had driven home the whole time trying to ignore that boner, but he simply couldn’t do that anymore. He just had to give in. 

He hesitantly put your panties aside - already feeling a strange sense of attachment to them - and reached to his nightstand, grabbing the bottle of lube that he had in the drawer. Shamefully, it was already half empty, mostly due to the fantasies that he had about you. He undid his pants and had them around his ankles in record time, and whipped off his shirt for good measure, knowing that he was quite a ‘splasher’ and not wanting to get cum on it to pair with that ugly mustard stain. 

He lubed up his cock more than a healthy amount, knowing that it would contribute to the fantasy of you being so wet around him. It was a distant fantasy that he would never actually get to achieve, but hell - a man can dream. Then he began to slowly pump his cock in hand, wanting to milk it and truly enjoy it, and he let his mind get back to work. 

He thought back to your place. A place he was comfortable, spent a lot of time at hanging out with you. 

He imagined that early that night when he had forgotten his book, rather than you being in the shower, he went back to your room and found that you had been getting ready for bed. You were rubbing sweet-smelling lotion on your arms, pulling back the covers, wearing nothing but a pair of cute little socks, a tiny camisole - where he could very visibly see that you weren’t wearing a bra, with the natural teardrop shape of your breasts bared to the eye, your nipples poking through the fabric - and those purple lace panties. 

When he would appear in the doorway, you would gawk at him and ask: 

“Stiles? What are you doing? Did you… forget something?” 

But you would be positioned half leaning over the bed, taking back the covers so it would be comfortable for you to sleep - and your ass would be unintentionally on full display. Your sweet pussy lips peeking at him from behind, the roundness of your ass so fucking inviting, daring him to leave bite marks across the beautifully fat flesh. 

And after a few moments of him staring so brazenly, saying nothing, simply drinking in the gorgeous sight of your body bent over, wearing so little clothing, wearing those perfect little lace panties-

(Stiles sped up his hand on his cock, the lube sounding downright sloppy in the silence of the room.) 

You would stand up to your full height, come to him in the doorway, put your face so close to his and say: 

“If you’re gonna spend so much time staring at me like a gaping idiot, then you should do something about it.” 

Stiles had to stop the swift movements of his hand and clutch his grip tightly around the base of his cock, making his entire dick throb hard as he edged off his own orgasm. 

He still wasn’t sure why the idea of you calling him an ‘idiot’ in such a brazen tone made him want to cum so hard - but he didn’t have time to unpack all that now. 

He grabbed up the panties again with his non-lubed hand. Something in the back of his mind thought that it would be a crime for him to get them dirty. Another part argued that he would absolutely love to get them covered in his cum, not clean them, and then return them to you. That it would be fucking thrilling to have you wear them in that dirtied state. 

Though he knew that would never fucking happen. 

If he returned the panties to you covered in his cum, then you would slap him, call him a pervert, and likely have Scott beat the shit out of him with his newly harnessed werewolf strength. Stiles pushed this thought to the back of his mind, though. 

Out of curiosity, he lifted the fabric to his nose and took a whiff. They smelled like fresh laundry - a nice lemony detergent. Of course they weren’t ones you had previously worn - they were a pair you had been planning on wearing tomorrow. 

He distantly wondered if that meant you would not be wearing underwear tomorrow, because he had taken your intended pair. And that could have led his mind down a whole different filthy track, but instead - he began to wonder what a pair of your dirty underwear might smell like. 

You should take a pair of used ones. A voice in his mind told him. Snatch them right out of the hamper. Come on, you’re over at her place all the time. She won’t even notice them gone. 

Terrible idea. Terrible rabbit hole. 

But what would they smell like? 

He wasn’t deluded enough to think that pussy smelled like roses. He had never been close enough to one - a real pussy - before to actually know. Yes, he was a virgin. He could have said that he was waiting, ‘saving it’ for you - but every other girl, including you, was smart enough to look past him. There were plenty of other guys who were better looking and more charming than him, and probably better in bed than him, that girls had chosen instead of him. 

He wondered if your pussy smelled like that perfect bit of sweat that you gathered at the end of a long day. Sometimes when he went to hug you before the two of you parted ways, he would catch a whiff of the tiniest undertone of musk, a good amount of sweat paired with the berry scented body spray you had put on that morning, and orange tic-tacs you had popped after lunch. It was a delectable combination. 

He imagined that your cunt would smell like that bit of sweat, combined with the blueberry body wash you used - the one he knew about and loved because of the time you had insisted he use your shower while stinking up a study session because he had skipped the showers after lacrosse practice when he was late to be with you. 

He imagined getting hints of that blueberry body wash smell coming off your thighs when his head was buried between them. What would your cunt taste like? That was a mystery he wanted to solve live. 

He could always imagine the other aspects so well. 

He could imagine the feeling of the heat under his tongue, the perfect feeling of your wetness mixing with his spit. He imagined getting to bounce your swollen clit against his tongue and while feeling your moans and cries of his name vibrate through your body as he pleasured you so well - the feeling of your pubes brushing against his cheeks as his entire face became soaked with your wetness. 

But the taste - that was something he could never conjure up in his mind, no matter how hard he tried. 

He knew that eating your pussy would be perfect. Not just because he would be giving you pleasure, serving you. But he so often dreamed of having his head smothered by your thighs, having you grab his head and shove him tighter into your cunt, you purposeful and demanding. You having that beautiful control over him while he drowned in your wetness. 

He knew that he would likely cum in his pants from eating you out if he ever got the privilege of doing so, and even if you laughed at him - stupidly, he would find that hot too. 

Stiles picked up the pace again, pumping his cock in hand evenly and firmly - even reaching down with the other hand to cradle his balls, gently rolling the flesh in his hand as he got lost in another fantasy of you. 

He imagined the two of you in his bed - textbooks forgotten and pushed off onto the floor, your dress hiked up around your hips, and again, those fucking purple lace panties. He was on top of you, hovering on his knees so that his hard cock wouldn’t brush against you (even through his jeans) while the two of you sloppily made-out. 

It wasn’t long before you pulled away from his kiss-swollen lips. 

“Stiles,” You purred into his ear, kissing along his neck. “You know, you’re so pathetic.” 

These words had his cock jumping, spurting out precum - in his fantasy, it made his underwear messy as you undid his fly. 

In the real world, it made his hand messy as he continued to rhythmically jerk his cock. 

“I’m not gonna let you fuck me.” You told him, contrasting these words with your intentions as you put your hands inside his waistband and shoved his pants and underwear down over his hips - down to his knees until his hard, throbbing cock was exposed. “Not until you prove yourself.” 

Before Stiles could ask the question, the beautiful, fantastic you that he had made up inside his mind gave him the perfect answer. 

“Get yourself off by rubbing your pathetic dick against my panties. And then - I might let you fuck me.” 

In the real world, Stiles let out a throttled moan - a choked sound that surely would have had his father knocking on the door to ask if he was okay if he was at home. And then he rushed to grab the panties again, and without even thinking, he used his sticky lubed up hand to position the fabric around his dick. It was a coarse roughness compared to the slick smoothness he had previously been feeling, but it did wonders to complete his fantasy as he delved back to the you inside of his mind. 

He started rubbing the slightly lube-sticky rough fabric up and down his dick at a very slow pace as he imagined it: 

Being perched between your thighs, with the fabric of the panties stuck to your wet cunt, his cock hard and leaking as he tucked himself right up against you and began to rub his dick against you in order to get off. Just like you wanted, just like you had ordered him to do. 

“Please.” Stiles chanted, the words leaking out of his lips, chanted into his empty bedroom as he pleaded to the imaginary you that would always have a hold over him - just as tight of a hold as the real you had. “Please, please - oh fuck.” 

He moved the fabric over his cock faster as he moved his hips faster in the fantasy, imagining how hot your pussy would feel against him, imagining your nails digging into his hips as you looked up at him with mocking and adoration in your eyes. He imagined you forcing his hips faster, trapping him in place with your knees bracketed around his thighs, showing him absolutely no mercy. 

“Please, please, please.” He chanted, knowing with a distant part of his mind that he must have sounded utterly delirious. “Please, Y/N, lemme cum-” 

“Cum for me, Stiles.” 

Confirmed by that fantasy version of you and truly unable to hold it any longer, Stiles arched up off the bed, cumming all over his own fist. Just as he had predicted, it was an utter, uncontrollable mess. He shot cum all over his stomach, and absolutely soaked the fabric of the panties - making a horrible mess of them. Which, the lube had definitely already done. He laid there for a single moment catching his breath before it truly hit him. 

Fuck. He had fucked up. 

You would definitely notice the underwear missing after a while and he certainly couldn’t return them to you in this condition. 

… 

Stiles spent the next hour in the bathroom, absolutely panicking over how to get them clean. Luckily, he wasn’t a total idiot and he looked up the washing instructions online - and after hand-washing them in warm water with a ‘gentle’ detergent (handsoap was the best that he could do), they came out perfectly clean. 

The only problem? 

Hang to dry. 

He set his alarm for early, earlier than you suggested, and prayed that he wouldn’t sleep through it. In fact, he set three more alarms just to make sure. He couldn’t have you or his father barging into his room to wake him up when he had a pair of your stolen panties pinned to his corkboard in order to properly dry them so that he could sneak them back to you in good condition. 

… 

The next day, he departed for school by 6:45 with the stolen goods hidden away in his bag, ready to sneak them back into your room later that afternoon. He made it to the library ten whole minutes before seven, and you seemed shocked that he was not only on time - but early. 

“Wow.” You said, having just gotten there yourself, spreading out your items at a table - including a tray with some coffees. “You know, Stiles, I am impressed.” 

“You don’t have to act so - so shocked.” He replied, partially interrupted by a yawn. 

You leaned over to get a pen from your bag, and Stiles’s eyes immediately went to your ass, unconsciously trying to spot panty lines through your dress and tights - wondering if you were even wearing underwear because he had stolen the ones you had intended for today. 

Focus, Stiles. Focus. 

“Well, if you weren’t here by seven sharp like I told you, I was gonna pour this in the garbage.” You told him, taking his coffee out of the paper tray and sliding it toward him. 

“You don’t have to be so mean.” He chuckled, airy and light - very secretly annoyed with the way your ‘mean’ streak affected him sometimes. Why did he have to be turned on by you scolding him and punishing him? Why? 

“Hey, if I’m not mean then you never get anything done.” You told him truthfully. “And you know how it works by now. Good boys get rewards and bad boys get spanked.” You told him, letting out a bright laugh - indicating that it was clearly meant to be a joke. 

But instantly, it shook his mind with imagery of you bending him over the table, ripping his pants down and spanking him until he came untouched and cried for mercy, forcing him to agree that he would behave and listen to you. He became downright dizzy at the thought. 

You meant it as a joke - he had to sharply remind himself. But the way you so casually called him a ‘good boy’, said that he was deserving of a ‘reward’ - it sent chills down his spine and already had his cock waking up. Too early. Bad rabbit hole. 

If he was any sort of brave, he would have pushed it more and asked you what kind of ‘reward’ you had in mind. But he wasn’t, and he was too tired to analyze the potential consequences. 

“Oh!” You said, as though suddenly remembering something. You moved to grab your bag again and Stiles closed his eyes to forcefully keep himself from staring at your ass. “You left this at my place last night.” You told him, sliding his English textbook across the table toward him. 

He was too busy trying to calm his own lust that he missed the smirk on your face - the mischief lingering in your eyes, the intention in your tone. He was too caught up, drowning in his own affections for you that he never would have pieced together that you had taken in and hidden it on purpose as a ploy to get him to come back. That you had put out some other bait for him to find. 

“Thanks.” He said quietly. “So - what do we need to go over before the test?”

“Everything.” 

Stiles groaned.

...

Due to much pressure, not the sequel has been posted. I am fully of the belief that this fic is complete and perfect on its own, but if you would like to keep reading, click on the link below. I highly encourage you to leave a comment before you press on, though, and tell me what you enjoyed about this fic since you have gotten this far.

Happy reading!

Keeping Reading Here: Stupid For You - Virgin!Stiles Stilinski x Fem!Reader

[d3arapril]

[reup] birthday girl | p.b

pairing: paige bueckers x f!reader word count: 4.6k warnings/tags: alcohol consumption (they're tipsy), switch!paige, oral (r!receiving), fingering (p&r!receiving), sex toys (p!receiving), spit, language, assplay (r!receiving) ᡣ𐭩 as many of u are aware i accidentally deleted my account - luckily i have managed to recover this gem! if you're thinking hm i swear i used to follow her - YOU DID! please re-join me on this journey and please re-indulge yourselves in this dirtiness for BDB PB's birthday. reblogs are appreciated more than ever given the circumstances lol ! :D love u all x

You sway slightly on your feet, the alcohol making your head feel lighter than it should as you fumble to light the candle on the heart-shaped cake. Your socks shuffle on the cool kitchen tiles, the slight friction grounding you as you flick at the lighter.

"Need help?" Azzi peeks over your shoulder to watch you flick at the lighter. When the small flame finally ignites, you both let out a victorious "Ah!"

"Nope," you pop the p, turning to smile at your friend. "I got it!"

You'd organised a small get together with close friends for Paige's birthday at her request. Not too much, she'd insisted when you'd first asked her what she wanted to do. So, of course, you made a list of those she actually liked and invited them over.

Now, you're standing behind Azzi as she leads you out of the kitchen and shuts off the lights. You hold the cake up with both hands, lips in a tight line as you focus on holding it steady. Admittedly, you'd all had a bit more to drink than originally planned. Tiktok's were filmed, drinking games were played and shots were consumed.

The girls break out into an out of tune rendition of happy birthday as soon as you enter the room, toothy grin plastered across your face when you lock eyes with Paige. She's smiling right back at you and although the room is dark you can just make out the blush on her cheeks.

She blows out the candle and her index finger swipes through the icing decorating the edge of the cake. She sucks it into her mouth, eyes still trained on yours. "Mm," she makes a noise in her throat. "Tastes good."

It's almost like slow motion, the way her mouth closes and her tongue comes out to lick at her lips. It's all you can focus on– her. You shake it off, not letting yourself get lost in the moment in front of all of your friends. You place the cake down onto the table and just like that the party continues, more drinks are poured and the night wears on.

A few hours later, most of the girls have called it a night. Now, it's just you, Paige, Azzi, Kayla and Kk remaining. You're squished between Paige and Kayla on the couch, Paige's right leg slung over yours. You're trying your best to listen to the conversation going on around you, but the mere feeling of Paige's skin on yours makes it harder to concentrate.

"You want another?" Paige’s voice pulls you from your thoughts. She gestures to the red cup loosely clutched in your hand.

You glance down at it and shake your head. "Nah, I’m good. I think I’d actually like to remember tonight," you say with a chuckle.

Paige laughs softly, her hand giving your thigh a playful squeeze. "Smart move." She turns to Kayla, nudging her gently. "What about you? Tapping out?"

Kayla glances at her phone, her eyes widening slightly as she reads the time—1:29 AM. "Wow– I didn't realise it was that late." Kayla yawns as she stands up, ruffling at Paige's hair. "It's not your birthday anymore, Bueckers."

"It's still my day, though." Paige pouts, leaning her head back to look at Kayla. Always such a big baby.

"Yeah, yeah, birthday girl," Kayla laughs, ruffling Paige’s hair before heading to the door. She glances over at Azzi, who’s now half-asleep, sprawled across Kk’s lap. "You guys heading out too?"

Azzi and Kk exchange tired glances before they, too, gather their things. After a round of group hugs, the door finally closes, leaving you and Paige alone in the now-quiet living room. You survey the aftermath; red cups litter the floor, empty bottles are stacked haphazardly on the coffee table.

“Jeez,” you mutter, shaking your head at the mess. “This’ll be fun to clean up tomorrow.”

Paige hums in agreement, her arms suddenly wrapping around your waist from behind you. She pulls you back against her, resting her chin on your shoulder. “I had a good night,” she says softly, her breath tickling your ear. “Thank you.”

"No need to thank me," you smile. "I had fun, too. Did you have a good birthday?"

"The best," her arms squeeze you a little tighter, nose nudging at your cheek. You lean back into her, hands covering her own. "Thank you baby."

"Anything for you," you smile, tilting your neck back to look at her.

"Really?" her head tilts towards you as she presses a kiss to your cheek.

"Always."

She hums, her hands sliding down to your hips, squeezing gently as she leans in closer. "Not to be greedy," there's a pause as she gives you another squeeze, lips ghosting down your neck. "But where's my gift?"

Paige grins against your neck, the curve of her lips brushing your skin. “Maybe,” she murmurs before her teeth lightly nip at the sensitive spot where your neck meets your shoulder.

"You gonna give me something good?"

Her lips are against your pulse point now, sucking the sensitive skin into her mouth. A sigh escapes your lips and you reach your hands up and back, fingers tangling in her hair. Paige's hands roam your body, trailing up and down your sides before one cups at your breast.

"Paige," you moan softly, her name escaping your lips as her mouth finds yours. The kiss is slow and deep, both of you still tasting faintly of vodka and cherry, the alcohol mixing with the heat between you. Her hand cups your jaw, angling your face just right as the kiss intensifies.

She pulls away first, a thin string of saliva connecting your lips. Her breathing is ragged, voice low as she pants, "Bedroom."

Your fingers interlock with hers, feet padding softly against the floor as she leads you down the hallway. Her thumb rubs soft circles into the back of your hand and it's a subtle reminder of how much she loves you.

Paige stops outside of her bedroom door and pauses. Her eyes are soft and there's a smile gracing her lips. "What?" you smile back, free hand reaching up to brush a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

"Nothing, just." her hand lifts and squeezes your wrist. "I really love you, s'all."

You roll your eyes, playfully. "You're such a sap,"

"You gonna let this sap eat your pussy, orrrr..?" she smirks as she drags out the word, opening the door to her room and pulling you in. She pushes it shut behind you, tipsy fingers fumbling with the lock.

The room is surprisingly bright, the main light still on from when Paige must've last been in there. "You left the light on," you say monotonously which earns you an eye roll from Paige. She doesn't respond, just flicks her head towards the bed as an instruction for you to get over there.

"Someone's eager." you grin, walking backwards until the back of your legs hit her bed.

"Mhm," Paige hums, stepping closer to you. She pauses for a moment, as though she's figuring out her next move. "Turn over."

Your knees are weak as you flip yourself over, resting on your hands and knees. She wastes no time, making quick work of pulling your leggings and panties down your thighs. She lets out a moan at the sight of you, exposed and waiting.

"Damn," she mumbles under her breath, hand running along the curve of your ass cheek, giving it a squeeze. "Now this is a birthday cake."

Your head drops between your shoulders, laughter shaking your frame. "Wow, P. That's corny."

"Shut up," she's giggling, too, but there's a tone of authority in her voice. The sound of her kneeling behind you is audible and the feeling of her presence looming over you is enough to keep you quiet.

Her hands grip at your ass again and squeeze, nails digging into the soft skin. Your fingers curl into the sheets, a gasp leaving your lips. A stray finger traces a pattern across the dimples in your lower back, lower, lower until it brushes over the puckered hole you're both yet to try. Yeah, she's pressed her thumb against it more times than she'd like to admit but she's never 'breached the surface' as she'd say.

"You gonna let me have here?" she leans down, pressing a chaste kiss to the base of your spine. "It is my birthday, after all."

You hesitate, hand letting go of the sheets to reach back for her. "What about you?"

Paige squeezes at your forearm, "I'll get mine, don't worry."

She moves your arm back down beside you, hands coming to rest on either side of your ass. She pulls your cheeks apart, breath warm against you. "Can I?"

You moan out a yes, dropping your forehead against the mattress. Paige wastes no time, head dipping down and licking a fat stripe up your pussy, tongue sliding between your folds. She's sloppy, spit mixing with the slick that now coats her chin. She's moaning into you and you wish you could see how this looked from the outside.

You're shaking in front of her, fingers twisting and tugging at the sheets. She pulls away for a second, gathers the mixture of her spit and your juices in her mouth and spits it back onto you. She rubs it in with her thumb, digit ghosting over the ring of muscle.

"Fuck, Paige," you groan, shaking hand blindly reaching back to pull her closer, push her away- you weren't even sure at this point.

The girl hums, thumb stilling. "You want me to put it in?

You nod, cheek flat against the mattress.

"Speak to me."

"Please, please." you beg.

"Please what?"

"Fuck," you groan, inhibitions leaving your body. "Do anything, please. Eat my pussy–my ass, please, please–" You're so desperate you can barely even recognise your own voice.

"Relax baby," Paige coos, leaning down to press a kiss to your ass cheek. "I got you."

You feel her pull away and you're about to protest, kick your feet out at her and cuss her out until you feel her shuffling around on the bed behind you. You use the little strength you have remaining to push your head off of the bed and you see her lying on her back, half of her body hanging off of the bed. Damp fingers squeeze at your ass, dragging you back just enough so your pussy is directly over her mouth.

She's back at it like she never left, sucking your clit into her mouth and massaging her tongue over it. Her thumb finds home against your ass again, pressing against your hole as her tongue teases over your folds. The pressure is immense, the tip of her thumb slipping past the tight ring of muscle and you choke on air. You're not sure if it's a good or bad thing that you can't breathe, everything in you constricting, heart hammering against your chest.

You press against the mattress and hold yourself up, now fully kneeling over Paige. You brush the blonde strands from her face, your girlfriend's eyes fluttering open to lock onto yours. As soon as you make eye contact you hear feel her moan into your pussy, thumb sliding an inch deeper.

Your hips grind against her at their own accord, fingers now knotted in Paige's hair as you moan out into the cool air of her room. Your stomach tenses, thighs working overtime to hold you up. The chord in your stomach grows tighter and you open your mouth to warn Paige that you're about to cum but your words get lost in the mess of moans and pants and incoherent syllables.

It washes over you like a tidal wave, orgasm rattling your entire body. Paige moans into you the entire time, tongue messily sliding over your pussy as she laps you up. Her thumb leaves your ass with a pop and she presses her head back into the mattress just enough to be able to breathe out a "You good?"

Shaking legs shuffle you down her body until you're sat on her stomach, grimacing at the stickiness between your thighs. Paige can't help the laugh that leaves her, hands rubbing up the fronts of your thighs as she takes you in.

"You look fucked."

"Well," you pinch at her side, "You fucked me good, birthday girl."

She wiggles her eyebrows at that, hands leaving your thighs to grip at your ass cheeks. She squeezes, tongue licking around her lips. Her lids flutter shut as she tastes the remnants of you against her, lashes fluttering against her cheek.

You watch her silently from above, fingers trailing across her chest. Her shirt sticks to her skin slightly, sweat beading across her body. "Want this off?"

She nods, eyes opening. "Please."

You clamber off her and watch as she pulls the shirt over her head, throwing it into a random corner of her room. Her sports bra follows and she mindlessly rubs her hands over her chest, grateful she's no longer constricted by the material.

"So," you start, pushing her back by her shoulder and ghosting your lips across her nipple. She's flat against the bed again and you're perched beside her, ass up and feet kicking out as your tongue peeks out to lick at the sensitive nub. "How do you plan on 'getting yours'?"

You recite the words she'd said to you earlier and she snickers, back arching slightly when you suck her nipple into your mouth. "I got something-" she sucks in a breath when your teeth bite into the swell of her breast, pink mark left in their wake. "Something in the drawer."

Your eyebrows perk up at that, leaving one last kiss against her tit as you climb off the bed and saunter towards her bedside drawer. You pull open the rickety drawer and there's a purple wand staring right back at you.

You turn back to look at her, watching as she shuffles up the bed, head now resting on the pillows. "How long have you had this?"

Paige shrugs, a smug look on her face. "Got it a couple days ago. A gift from me, to me."

You fish it out of the drawer and inspect it, it's fairly heavy- three heart shaped buttons on the purple rubber handle. "Have you used it?"

"Nah," she taps her fingers against her stomach, nonchalant. "Wanted to use it with you."

You let out a hum of approval, turning back to face her. She's propped herself up on her elbows, legs bent at the knee and open. Her thighs are spread wide, fabric of her navy shorts stretching across the expanse of the muscle.

You sit at the end of the bed, turning the toy on and letting it vibrate against the palm of your hand. "It's intense," you muse, not able to mask the smile growing on your features. "Did you deliberately choose this?"

Paige's blush deepens, feet kicking out to hit your thigh. "Shut up, no."

You can't help but laugh at her, crawling forward and leaning down to press a kiss just above her bellybutton. She's watching you carefully, waiting to see what you're going to do.

"This is new," you say, watching the way her breathing changes with every gentle touch. "I usually have to work to get you like this, but you're so–" you bite down on her skin, letting her feel the dull ache before sucking at the mark. "Are you becoming needier in your old age?"

"Fuck you," she spits, but there's no real venom in her words. Her abs are drawn tight and she's got her hands fisted by her sides; she's clearly desperate. "It's my birthday, be nice."

"Need I remind you," you flick the waistband of her shorts and boxers against her skin, pulling at them slightly to hint at her to lift her hips. She does as you wish and you slide them off of her, abandoning them at the end of the bed. "It's not your birthday anymore."

Paige makes a sound in the back of her throat, hips raising as she tries to get you to touch her. She's been on the edge since she saw you walking towards her with that cake in your hands, the amount of love you have for her so evident in your expression that it drove her fucking insane. She feels her entire body burning up, thighs shaking as her hands clutch at the sheets.

You settle comfortably between her legs, head dipping down to press a kiss to the inside of her thigh.

"What do you want me to do? I'll let you pick, my treat."

She rolls her eyes at that, breath shaky as she answers. "Use the thing."

You lean forward, lips ghosting over hip bone. You breathe out a laugh, tongue licking against the skin. "The thing? Like the movie?"

You feel Paige tug at your hair, an annoyed whine leaving her throat. "Stop fucking with me, please."

That's enough to satisfy you, dipping down lower to place a chaste kiss against her clit. She sucks in a sharp breath at the feeling, hips canting up to catch your mouth. Your tongue peeks out to lay flat against it, slowly moving your head up and down to provide just enough friction to make Paige's toes curl.

"Fuck," she breathes out, head tilted back against the pillow. "Need more."

Your right hand blindly fumbles around the bed for the wand, left hand now busy rubbing slow circles into her clit with your thumb. Her abs ripple, chest heaving from the feeling of it all. It's so much, yet nowhere near enough at the same time.

As soon as you press the on button the toy springs to life again, loud vibrations humming out into the air of the room. It almost makes your entire arm shake from how intense it is but you prevail, sitting up slightly to trail it between the valley of her breasts.

"What're you-" Paige cuts herself off, the both of you not able to contain your laughter because she sounds like some sort of fucked up robot when she speaks, the vibrations distorting her voice.

"Just," you lift the toy away from her chest to press a kiss to her lips, both of you smiling against each other. "Relax, enjoy it babe."

You trail the wand further down her body, letting it rest just above her clit. Her hips tilt up again, head lolling forward so she can watch. Your free hand presses against her stomach, keeping her flat to the bed.

"I said, relax."

"I am relaxed."

You scoff, not giving in to her attitude. You keep the wand where it is, just out of reach from where she needs it most. You move the hand from her stomach and let your fingers tickle against her inner thigh, inching closer and closer to her pussy. Your fingertip trails against her folds and, as you expected, she's soaked. It wasn't too often you'd swap roles like this, let her fully relax whilst you took control of the reigns but you knew she enjoyed this. Loves letting you do whatever you want to her.

You let a single finger dip between her folds, sliding up, down and then sinking inside of her. It's not much of a stretch from how wet she is, slides in easily. You pump the singular finger in and out slowly, eyes trained on Paige's face.

She's got her eyes screwed shut, head still lolled on her shoulder. Her eyebrows are furrowed, lips in a slight pout. You hover the vibrator just above her clit and when you press it down against her, her eyes shoot open and eyebrows raise in shock.

"Holy shit," she gasps, one hand wrapping around your wrist whilst the other shoots up to grab at the pillow beside her. "That's– fucking hell."

Her mouth is wide open, tongue hanging out just the tiniest bit in a daze. The room is filled with the sounds of the toy and her moans, her hips lifting off of the bed to chase the sensation. You press the wand down harder, letting it buzz against her clit. You can feel it vibrating through your arm and the vibrations are strong, making you wonder just how powerful it is. You make a note to get her to use it on you, next time.

You move the toy against her in slow circles, slipping another finger into her pussy and curling them up. "Good?"

Paige's chest is flushed, heaving with each deep breath she takes. It's almost like she doesn't know what to do with herself, head tipping back to the pillow and then tossing to the side. "Yeah," she breathes out, voice hoarse. "Good."

Your thumb reaches up to press at one of the buttons to increase the intensity, vibrations now pulsing against her. She whines, high pitched and strained as it all becomes too much. Your fingers curl faster inside of her, the squelching from her pussy just audible over the vibrations from the wand.

Her hips tilt up faster, feet slipping against the mattress as she chases the feeling. If she could see herself she'd be embarrassed by how easily she's succumbed to the pleasure, scrambling against the bed pathetically. She can't think straight, only able to focus on the feeling of her orgasm approaching.

"It's-" she can barely get her words out, sweat making her body glisten. You watch her with a smirk on your face, satisfied. "I think-"

"What's wrong, babe?"

Paige's eyes are rolled back in her head, head tipped back and neck on show. There's a blue vein stretching across the length of her neck and you find yourself leaning over her and dragging your tongue against it. Paige jumps at the feeling, broken moan leaving her chest. The hand that was wrapped around your wrist moves to your shoulder, blunt nails biting against your skin.

You're still moving the toy in slow circles, rubbing it against her clit. Paige is moaning, groaning- gravelly noises leaving her throat as the hand on your shoulder moves to your hair. She moves her head to face you, watery eyes boring into your own.

"Gonna cum," she whispers against your lips, barely audible over the noise from the toy. "Fucking–feel it in my chest."

You bite at her bottom lip, teeth pulling at her pout. Your nose presses against hers as you watch her unravel, watch a tear spill from her eye and drip down her cheek. "Yeah, birthday girl?"

Your fingers speed up, curling so quickly you fear they might end up cramping. Your wrist begins to ache from holding the toy, too but you keep going because it's all worth seeing your girlfriend like this.

The blonde lets out a combination between a cry and a moan, thighs squeezing around you and keeping you trapped as she cums. The vibrator slips a little from how wet she's become but you're quick to put it back in place.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," she's chanting out to nobody in particular, thighs tightening and feet kicking against your back. You let her do it, let it happen as she goes silent. You feel it before you hear it, her hips rolling up and thighs shaking against you as she floods your fingers, and then- "I'm fucking-fucking cumming, oh shittttt."

The words leave her through gritted teeth, fingers finding their way under your shirt to scratch against your skin. You lean back to watch her in all her glory; head craned back against the pillow, nipples hard and hair matted against her forehead.

Your fingers slip out of her first and you sit them on your tongue, licking around them and moaning from the taste. You turn the vibrator off and chuck it beside Paige who is breathing so heavily you think she might pass out, eyes closed and lips dry.

You rub a comforting hand against her thigh, a soft touch to keep her grounded. You cast a glance down to her pussy and you can see the wet patch underneath her on the bed, dark and soaking into the cotton sheets.

"Wow," is all she says, body relaxing against the bed. Her eyes open and she softly smiles as soon as she sees you, shaking hand resting atop of your own. "Happy birthday to me."

You opt to lay beside her, leg kicked over her thighs with your head resting on her shoulder. "Feeling okay?"

"Honestly," she tucks her chin in to look down at you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "Best birthday gift ever."

"Doesn't count if you brought it for yourself, though." you counter, tilting up to look at her. You catch her rolling her eyes at you, the hand she'd settled around your waist digging in below your ribs.

"'Kay, where's my gift from you then?"

"Don't be greedy, Bueckers." you tease sliding out from beside her and walking towards where your bag was abandoned several hours ago. Paige lets out a whistle as she watches your ass as you walk away from her, rolling onto her side.

"Where you goin'?"

You ignore her, rummaging through your back to look for the jewellery box you'd so carefully wrapped last weekend. Much to relief you find it still intact and spin around, holding it behind your back as you saunter back towards Paige. You make sure to grab her clothes on the way, throwing them in her direction.

She raises an eyebrow at you, pulling just her boxers back up over her legs and an oversized t-shirt over her head. You do the same, keeping the box in your hand as you put her shorts on.

"A gift for little old me?"

You have to resist rolling your eyes at her, crouching down so you're at the same height. You hold the small box between you both and hold your gaze with Paige, watching as her eyes light up in anticipation.

"I remember looking at them a while ago," you start, thumb stroking against the patterned paper. "So I got 'em."

Paige frowns, unsure of what you're talking about. She takes the box from you, unsteady fingers pulling at the wrapping paper. She discards the paper beside her on the bed and opens up the box slowly, eyes widening when she sees what's inside.

"You didn't-"

"Don't say a word." you cut her off, knowing she was about to go on a spiel about how she didn't deserve this, how you shouldn't have spent the money, blah blah blah.

"How did you remember?" there's a hint of shock in her voice, as though she couldn't believe you'd remember something that she thought was so insignificant.

You smile at her, taking the box from her and pulling out one of the rings. They're just two simple silver bands with a small heart etched on the inside; nothing too flashy but you vividly remember Paige fawning over them in the store. "We should get matching," she'd suggested to you, nothing but a passing comment.

The ring slides onto her finger with ease and you thank the Gods above that you'd picked the right size. "Feels like we're gettin' married," she snickers, holding her hand up to admire the ring. "Lemme put it on you."

"Nuh-uh!" you whip your hand away from her, wiggling your fingers in the air. "I need to wash my hands after your little performance."

Paige laughs, shoving at your shoulder with no malice. She stands up from the bed, groaning from the ache in her legs. She wraps hand around your arm and pulls you up and into a hug.

"I love you," she mumbles against your shoulder, squeezing you tight. "Thank you, for everything."

You pull back slightly, scratching at the nape of her neck.

"I love you too," you lean in, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"Happy birthday, baby."

[grahoriasfancave]

This fandom’s going through a lot of discourse right now, especially regarding mischaracterization, so here’s a list of non-rape-related details the game and Q&As tell us about Anya

(disclaimer: I’ve watched a handful of playthroughs but haven’t played Mouthwashing myself)

She’s competitive (re: game night)

She’s determined and/or stubborn (applying for medical school again and again to the detriment of her savings, keeping Curly alive though mercy-killing him would be just as acceptable)

She’s insanely good at her job even if she’s not legally a nurse (keeping Curly alive this long on very limited supplies, holy hell)

She’s a logical person (assessing situations quickly and accurately, taking time to think things through before acting, paying attention to detail)

She’s friendly toward her coworkers (teasing Swansea about his sweet tooth, pinning Daisuke’s art on the board in Medical, expressing amusement when Curly says something corny)

She gets lost in thought sometimes (Swansea complains she doesn’t always pay attention when he’s talking to her)

She and Curly have the same taste in music (Curly compliments her playlist)

She’s willing to break rules when it seems beneficial (hiding the gun, arguing that they should break into the cargo hold, allowing Curly to take over Jimmy’s psych eval)

She’s very academically inclined (reading and rereading manuals beyond her “wheelhouse” as the nurse, spending her free time studying)

She likes going for runs, horrible reality TV, and fast food

Feel free to reblog with anything I missed :)

[gothra]

I’ll never forget when I was arguing with a person in favor of total prison abolition and I asked them “what about violent offenders?” And they said “Well, in a world where prisons have been abolished, we’ll have leveled the playing field and everyone will have their basic needs met, and crime won’t be as much of an issue.” And then I was like “okay. But…no. Because rich people also rape and murder, so it isn’t just a poor person thing. So what will we do about that?” And I don’t think they answered me after that. I’m ashamed to say I continued to think that the problem was that I simply didn’t understand prison abolitionists enough and that their point was right in front of me, and it would click once I finally let myself understand it. It took me a long time to realize that if something is going to make sense, it needs to make sense. If you want to turn theory into Praxis (I’m using that word right don’t correct me I’ll vomit) everyone needs to be on board, which mean it all needs to click and it needs to click fast and fucking clear. You need to turn a complex idea into something both digestible and flexible enough to be expanded upon. Every time I ask a prison abolitionist what they actually intend to do about violent crime, I get directed to a summer reading list and a BreadTuber. It’s like a sleight-of-hand trick. Where’s the answer to my question. There it is. No wait, there it is. It’s under this cup. No it isn’t. “There’s theory that can explain this better than I can.” As if most theory isn’t just a collection of essays meant to be absorbed and discussed by academics, not the average skeptic. “Read this book.” And the book won’t even answer the question. The book tells you to go ask someone else. “Oh, watch this so-and-so, she totally explains it better than me.” Why can’t you explain it at all? Why did you even bring it up if you were going to point me to someone else to give me the basics that you should probably already know? Maybe I’m just one of those crazy people who thinks that some people need to be kept away from the public for everyone’s good. Maybe that just makes me insane. Maybe not believing that pervasive systemic misogyny could be solved with a UBI and a prayer circle makes me a bad guy. But it’s not like women’s safety is a priority anyway. It’s not like there is an objective claim to be made that re-releasing violent offenders or simply not locking them up is deadly.

[funficwriter]

Fontaine Characters with Violinist Reader!

A/N: This disappearing thing of mine is annoying, I'm trying to stop it. However, I finally got a bit of spare time to play Genshin and I am so, so in love with Fontaine. I think it's gonna be a wonderful arc. I haven't felt this much jubilation since Liyue or Inazuma!

Warnings; None, really.

Lyney, Lynette, Neuvillette, Navia, Furina, Wriothesley (no particular order)

Lyney

First off, this boy is no stranger to performing, an activity he loves. Naturally, he's going to be most interested in fellow performers, including you!

If you're the type to get anxious before, or even during a performance, say goodbye to that with him. He'll guide you through plenty of destressing rituals to help you relax beforehand.

(This included, but wasn't limited to; Taking deep breaths, doing tongue twisters, asking you to play meme songs on your violin, or tickling your sides because 'laughing is a great way to be loose'.)

Even during, should you freeze up and he's in the audience, he'll do a quick but loud magic trick to get everyone's eyes off you. Even one that makes him look like a fool, so long as you have time to put yourself together.

He'd LOVE to have you on stage with him! He adores your music and would ask you to sync it up with dramatic moments in his magic.

If you compose you own stuff, he's pretty much your biggest fan. The guy who never misses a concert. The loudest clapper. The biggest braggart.

"That gorgeous, graceful violinist we had the pleasure of watching? What if I told you that they're coupled up with an equally electric performer? That is, me~."

Lynette

It's easy to think that her brother outdoes her in terms of being your fan, but quietness hides a lot. If you think she doesn't care as much, you're so, so wrong.

She learned several music skills just to be closer to you, including sight-reading. BTW, she's got a killer voice and loves to sing out your compositions. Sometimes it helps you come up with alternative movements within them.

She can also play piano, to a good level of accompaniment. With time, one would think she is also a music assistant; It's not uncommon for her to be on your stage.

Lynette is VERY attentive to your instrument. Does it need rosin? A new bow, perhaps a re-hair? You just say the word, and she'll happily take it to the repair workshop if you have no time.

"By the way, Y/N prefers real horse hair, the thinnest you have. Don't worry. They're talented enough to thrive on it.".

She makes it a point to let you know how much she loves what you do: "All other music in Fontaine pales in its beauty next to yours. Please, keep playing.".

Neuvillette

You play the violin? (he crosses his legs and assumes his royal position). So when are you going to get married? Will you be okay playing a few pieces, even while being the spouse? /Half-joking, tbh.

For him to say that he is the lover of a music pioneer as important as you... Will never not be a moment of joy for him.

First off, what a sugar daddy. I hope you made a list of the expensive violins you wanted but couldn't afford. Because now, it's yours, never mind the Mora. Your very case may as well be coated with gold.

He won't die on this hill, but he would love it if you could play a bit during the parties he hosts. He loves live music to begin with, but after hearing you, it feels like no other pro could hope to sound as good as you.

(And side note, he likes how mesmerized everyone is with you lol)

If you're the type to remember your patron's personal preferences, and compose/play in accordance to that, just for him? Put hearts in his eyes. He's no longer joking about the wedding thing.

While he loves showing you off, he'll never force you if you're shy/nervous. If anything, he would also feel very special if he got to heard songs not out yet, compositions just for him...

"Perhaps this is Lady Furina's way of rewarding me for my years of service. Bless our Archon for giving me such a talented, show and heart-stopping partner.".

Navia

She likes that the Spina del Rosula is represented by passionate, talented people!

If you like sweets, I say just join her team. It's guaranteed pastries after each request lol.

Her detective work is cool, but can get a bit drab after a while. She likes asking you to play some violin ambiance, partly because it makes her feel cool, and partly because your music changes the atmosphere for much better.

Navia is a woman of decorum, but she'll often have trouble staying still during your concerts. It doesn't matter if there are rules to how loud a woman can cheer, she's happy for you and will make sure you know that.

She becomes even more proactive than usual. If a concert of yours falls on the same time as her work, she'll scour the ends of Teyvat for its solution, so she can see you.

With time, she might request you to play pieces that her father loved. Once they're brought back to life, through your own strings, she can't help but be a little emotional. She must have done something wonderful to have you.

"How beautiful, how poignant as you, my dear Y/N! This calls for macaroons! Which flavor would you like today?".

Furina

"Yes, Neuvillette, I know they perform and all, but why can't I keep them to myself! They're so darn great, I want that everyday!"

Of course, she's not gonna stop you, but beware; I feel like Furina would almost turn you into her own personal violinist lol.

She'd keep requesting your presence over her other personal entertainment and somewhat bombard you with song requests. Buuut if you're looking for a varied repertoire, she's your gal!

One reason she requests so much is because she so impressed with how you not only fulfill them all, you do it so creatively and beautifully. You don't just follow the note as it is... Once you're acquainted with what she likes, you modify the tune a bit to be more her taste.

She's so cute when she claps; The way her hands go so fast and she's about to get up from the seat, the huge eye and smile... Why, you might start reconsidering her offer.

"Bravooooo, Y/N!! Bravo! That was everything, I can't go on without an encore!"

If the tune is more happy-go-lucky, she will get up and dance along. Will also do it in circles around you because she's your little orb :3

Wriothesley

"Forgive me for intruding... But I was overhearing, and your playing is terrific. Electrifying. Do you happen to perform on Saturday nights? That's when I can leave the Fortress for a bit.".

Of all your fans, Wrio is one of the quieter ones, but not so much that no one knows it. For one, he's a Duke, he's bound to enjoy good music. And heavens knows he needs some fun in his life.

Here's a fun thing (ngl this is what I was excited to write): At first, it doesn't sound like he can make it to your recital. You see him on his desk, surrounded by paper mountains that only ever seem to grow. He doesn't want to make you sad, but his remark lets you know that he's not coming: "Would it kill some of these people to tone it down for a bit so I can go see my partner perform?".

So imagine your shock when you step on stage, and see him on the first row, sitting tall and handsome, shit-eating grin on his face and waving. You really bought it for a moment.

"Hehe... Did you really think I can't even make a bit of time to see Fontaine's best violinist in action? You actually bought that?".

I HC that he has insomnia, and has tried any things to cure it, but to no avail. It's rumored in Fontaine that his is incurable, but little do they know about how he lays down next to your sitting form. Little do they know of the soft lullabies you composed just for him, or how peacefully he dreams afterwards 💜

[jeneveuxrein]

inevitable (BLACKPINK Jennie)

word count: 7.5K

(something light, in a sense it’s the prequel to best behavior, but my apologies for not getting this out when it was supposed to be, enjoy!)

-- --

The question is out of your mouth before you could stop yourself. It’s become a habit more than anything, but you promised it would be something you break in the new year.

You just didn’t expect the answer to change.

“Okay, Tuesday works.”

Your jaw almost drops, but your lips stay in a straight line, slowly curling up. If you’re being honest, you want to scream at the top of your lungs because finally.

“Sweet,” You answer nonchalantly. “I’ll text you, yeah?”

“Sure,” The woman stands from the barstool, a soft smile on her face. One you’re not familiar with, especially directed at you. It’s sincere, and personal that it almost feels like you’re seeing a side that’s been waiting to be shown. There’s something in your chest that blooms. “See you then.”

A small wave from her friend has you returning it back, watching them walk away. You hear giggles, and you know she could never keep her excitement to herself.

It sets in quickly as the door shuts behind the pair, internally fist pumping. All the time and effort finally paid off.

Kim Jennie said yes.

-- --

You laughed at Lisa’s joke, sipping your beer as you leaned against the counter. She was telling a story about how one of her dancers walked in on her changing, ogling a second too long that she ran out of the room. Only things like this would happen to her.

Someone asked a question when she walked in.

You almost dropped your drink because there was no one that had ever caught your attention like she did.

She practically lit up the room, and for some reason, you felt a little lighter. You didn’t believe in love at first sight, but this felt pretty damn close.

You played your cool, not wanting to seem too forward, too eager, to talk to her. That didn’t mean your eyes glanced away, they kept searching for her in the room as Jisoo pulled her into whoever they walked by. There were handshakes and hugs, and you wondered where you’d fall.

Your heartbeat lightly thudded on your chest when they were a few feet away. You’d soon get to meet her, and you hoped you wouldn’t make a fool of yourself.

“Jendeukie,” Jisoo fondly called her as they stood in front of you. She introduced your name. You froze when your eyes met her—love at first sight never seemed so close, because you’d have to bet she felt it too.

Whatever it was.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Jennie extended her hand out, a shy smile in her face

“Right back at you,” Throwing her a wink as her hand gripped around your palm. You noticed how soft her hand was, small too, but there was something about it that just fit right.

“Oppa! Don’t you dare,” Jisoo slapped your arm enough for your hand to drop Jennie’s. “I refuse to let the mandu be part of your list. Absolutely not.” She shook her head, disapproving already when you hadn’t said more than four words to her.

Jisoo dragged Jennie away before you could respond.

Lisa chuckled next to you, shaking her head. She knew you too well to know you were instantly attracted to the woman. It was obvious on your face. “Please don’t.”

“I’m going to marry her,” You said simply.

Lisa almost spit out her drinking. You weren’t one to mention commitment when you were dating all these women, let alone marriage.

“What?”

“I’m going to marry Jennie,” You shrugged, as if it was for certain, a small smile formed on your face when your eyes met her across the room.

A smile returned.

--

You groaned, frustrated again at Jennie’s rejection. You didn’t understand why she was being difficult. You thought she was interested in you.

“Unnie said no again, huh?” Rosie asked, chuckling as the waiter took away the empty plates.

“I literally don’t get it,” You shook your head at your phone screen, re-reading Jennie’s no. “Does she not like me?”

Rosie rolled her eyes, used to your dramatics. “She probably doesn’t like you the way you do if she’s said no four times already.”

It had been a month since you met Jennie, and you saw her frequently, thanks to Lisa inviting you to come along. At first, you didn’t want to go, but she’d slip in that Jennie would be there too. It was an easy decision to join whatever they did, even though you’d end up taking an insane amount of pictures.

Jennie was shy.

Or, at the very least, shy around you.

You would describe it as ‘shy’ because she hardly interacted with you. You had to approach her first, grasping at straws to have any kind of conversation with her.

You were able to get her number one night after clubbing, mentioning this restaurant that you thought she would like. It was the perfect segue to ask her out, but you later saw on her socials she went with one of her friends. She did, however, message you a thank you for the recommendation.

“I don’t get why you’re trying so hard,” Rosie commented as you pouted at your device. “Jennie’s never had a boyfriend, and sorry if it’s harsh, but I genuinely don’t think you’d be her first serious relationship.”

Something you knew very early on, but you were aware of the effect she had on men and women alike. You witnessed a lot of people ask her out. She entertained it, flirting right in front of you.

It wasn’t like you could say anything. You were just some guy that was around Jennie. You weren’t even sure she considered you a friend.

“You’re right,” You flip your phone over. “It’s probably not meant to be.”

You knew you wouldn’t listen to Rosie. There was something in your gut that told you to keep trying.

It felt inevitable.

--

You were almost at your breaking point. You didn’t know what would push you over the edge, but you were sure it was close.

Jennie said no again.

You offhandedly asked her to dinner after walking her to the train station. You took the opportunity to be alone with her while the others took a car to their respective homes.

You were thankful for your ‘friendship’ that had developed over the past few months. It had gotten to the point where you could hold a conversation, and she wouldn’t look at you with a blank stare. She even sometimes approached you, asking how you were and what was going on in your life.

Yet, you couldn’t figure it out.

Some days she’d always be near you, keeping you within arms reach.

Other days, she’d hardly look your way.

Rosie was also confused by Jennie’s attitude toward you. It took some time, but after a while, over a quick bite after work, she asked you if anything was going on. You couldn’t give her an answer since you were trying to make something happen, but rejection was always the outcome. Rosie didn’t know what was going on. She even went on to tell you that she asked Jennie herself how she felt about you, but she couldn’t get an answer out of her.

You were rolling with the punches at this point.

Christmas was around the corner and you wanted to do coupley things with someone, but the someone you wanted to do it with was making it difficult.

The worst part of hearing another rejection was that you had to see Jennie this evening.

Sana was hosting a holiday get-together slash birthday party before your friends leave to spend the end of the year with their families. She was adamant that you had to go because there was a surprise that you didn’t want to miss. When it came to Sana, you had to be weary. It took a bit of convincing, but you reluctantly said yes when all you wanted to do was stay home and play video games, especially with how work had been going.

Lisa mentioned earlier in the week that Jennie would also be there, which your enthusiasm to be at the same place with her waned these past few weeks. You’d be happy to see her, but at the same time, the no thank you she gave you echoed in your head.

You arrived at Sana’s, knocking on the door as you waited for someone to answer. You heard the sound of conversation on the other side, which meant the party was in full swing. A moment later, Momo opened the door, face lighting up as soon as she saw you.

“Oppa! You made it,” Momo greeted, hugging you briefly before ushering you in. You weren’t used to her being this excited to see you. She usually just gave you a nod, but as soon as you entered, you felt something was up.

“Hi Momo,” You smiled, handing her the bottle of wine Sana demanded you bring as you took your shoes off.

“Go to the kitchen,” Momo nodded encouragingly, the same smile still on her face when you walked in.

This is weird, you thought before doing exactly what she said.

You said your hello’s to a few of your friends, who had the same excitement on their face as you walked by.

You saw Jennie across the room, next to one of her friends, Hyujin, and Jisoo, laughing at something the latter was saying. She looked up as soon as you walked by. You didn’t say anything except shooting her a small smile before reaching the kitchen.

You scanned the room, noting the food and alcohol spread prepared by Sana, before your eyes fell on the back of someone familiar. You couldn’t quite place it, but you saw this person conversing with Sana and Lisa.

Sana shrieked when she realized you were there, halting most, if not all, of the conversations in her apartment.

“Oppa! Come here!” Sana waved you over, and as she did, the person in question turned around and you couldn’t help the grin forming on your face. “Look who it is,” She pointed excitedly.

Mina.

--

Being in the presence of your ex-girlfriend was a pleasant surprise.

You hadn’t seen Mina since she graduated and moved back to Japan. You spoke with her a few times, wishing birthdays mostly, but that was the extent. You kept up with her socials and whatever Sana or Momo would tell you, and from what you gathered, she had been doing great.

She was also still as beautiful as you remembered. Time had made her even more so, that you felt you were in the presence of a goddess.

You told her exactly that, which was met with an eye roll and a cheeky smile.

“Still with the compliments?” Mina shook her head, cheeks turning red as she sipped her wine.

“Never enough for you,” You leaned forward, hand resting on the back of the seat.

To your friends, the witnesses of your relationship, they wouldn’t think anything of it. It was a familiar sight to be close with Mina, regardless of how much time has passed. They knew how hard it was on you when the relationship ended, but everyone knew that it wouldn’t last. She was always meant to go back to Japan. There was an expiration date the moment you decided to be together.

Could you have followed her to Japan? Yes, but would you? Probably not.

You were in love with her, but you were glad you experienced your first heartbreak with her.

It was a lot of catching up, talking about what happened then, in between, and now. Mina was doing well for herself, developing games for one of the country's biggest companies. She lived a simple life, hanging out with her friends and occasionally traveling with her family abroad.

You were proud of who she had become. She wasn’t the same woman you fell in love with all those years ago–shy, reserved–that much was obvious. She was still shy, but there was an air of confidence around her that wasn’t there before. She glowed, smiling at your stories and laughing at your antics. You could tell she was proud of you too.

The topic of relationships came up, which Mina told you candidly that she was seeing someone. His name was Kyo, a bit of a hot-head, but he was only ever like that with his cousins. You were happy she found someone who drew her out of her shell.

In love always looked good on her, even if that meant it wasn’t with you.

“What about you?” Mina placed her wine glass on the counter, the rest of your friends in their own conversations around you. They’d join in, but ultimately left you two in your own space.

“What about me?” You sighed. “I haven’t really dated anyone since you.”

Mina tilted her head, analyzing your face. It was jarring whenever she did that. She always said there were ‘tells’ when you liked someone, even on a superficial level. Having been her friend before you started dating, she could figure out if there was a crush involved.

“There’s something you’re not telling me,” Mina’s eyes squinted, lip pouting as she took her eyes off you to look behind you. “But then will you tell me why I’ve been on the receiving end of a death glare since you sat down with me?” You almost turned around, but she rushed out, “Don’t.”

“What’re you talking about?” You raised an eyebrow, confused.

“You like someone, and they’re here, aren’t they?”

Leave it to Mina who could always see right through you.

A dejected yes fell from your lips, shoulders dropping as you quietly explained the situation with Jennie. There wasn’t much to say except you had been asking her out for quite some time, but it hadn’t gotten anywhere.

“I don’t know her, but if I had to wager, she probably likes you too.”

There was no way.

Jennie hadn’t come up to you since you arrived. You hadn’t even thought of her until now, too swept up with Mina’s presence .

“Doubtful.”

Mina made a humming sound before changing the subject, not commenting on it anymore. You didn’t have it in you to ask.

--

You waited for the elevator when you heard a set of footsteps approaching you. Your pulse quickened when you saw Jennie and Hyujin walking towards you. You decided to leave the party as soon as Jeongyeon suggested the start of playing games, mainly because you didn’t want to referee disagreements between Jihyo and Nayeon. It somehow always fell on you.

“Hi,” You bowed your head slightly the closer the pair got to you.

Hyujin smiled, giving you a soft hey as she stood next to you. The other woman looked at you with a tight smile before facing the elevator.

“Oh, shit,” Hyujin said after looking through her purse, “I have Jisoo’s keys. I’ll be back. If the elevator comes, I’ll just meet you in the lobby.”

Hyujin took off right as the elevator doors opened. You internally groaned as Jennie walked in, following after her.

Once the elevator door closed, you felt the hairs on your neck stand. The air around you suddenly felt tense, and you didn’t know what to do. You watched the numbers decrease, the elevator descending that it felt like forever being in such close quarters with her.

“How was your night?” Jennie’s voice came out so softly. You almost didn’t hear her.

“Oh, uh, well it was great.”

“Good. I’m glad,” You braced yourself, sensing her next question. “You spent a lot of time talking with Mina-ssi. How do you two know each other?”

“She’s my ex-girlfriend,” You raised your arm to scratch the back of your head. You had no reason to feel embarrassed, but you felt the need to explain yourself. “We dated in school, but broke up because she moved back to Japan. We’re still cordial.”

Jennie turned her head slightly, giving you an inscrutable expression. You still couldn’t figure her out, but if you had to describe it, she looked annoyed.

“Ex-girlfriend?” You didn’t miss the way she emphasized the first part. “It seemed a little cozy between you two.”

You were getting baited, and you fell for it.

“Mina has a boyfriend,” You deadpanned, crossing your arms.

“Sure she does,” Jennie rolled her eyes. “She didn’t act like she had one.”

Whatever she implied, you wouldn’t have any of it. You had always been protective of Mina, and her comment pissed you off.

“You don’t know her, so watch what you’re saying,” You said lowly, eyes glaring as she turned her body to face you.

“If I had a boyfriend, I don’t think he’d like me cozying up with someone that wasn’t him.”

“Why do you care?” You turned, nearly towering over her as she looked up, “Why do you care what Mina does? Wait, I think the better question is, why do you care what I do?”

Jennie scoffed, shaking her head, “I don’t know how that relates to anything-”

“I know you were staring at us when we spoke. Mina felt it across the room,” You cut her off. You took a small step forward, invading her space when you heard her breath hitch. “Jealous?” You grinned as her eyes widened.

The elevator ringing broke whatever trance you two were in. You stepped back, giving Jennie space as you watched her shake her head.

“Goodnight Jennie. I’ll see you around,” You say quietly, nodding as you walk away.

You didn’t know what the hell that was, but you didn’t look back. Your thoughts were in a mess because you saw a glimpse of how Jennie felt.

You couldn’t get your hopes up again.

-- --

“Just checking in,” The waitress serving your table is here again, for the fourth time. “Your date will be arriving soon, yes?”

“Yes,” You lie because you haven’t heard from Jennie since this morning to confirm the time and location. “She’s stuck in some bad traffic.”

The waitress nods politely, walking away before she stands among her colleagues. They whisper something, shooting you pitiful looks and it adds to the sting of how the night’s unfolding.

Jennie’s late.

Today is also her birthday, which you were completely unaware of.

The only reason you know is because later in the morning, while checking your socials, Lisa posted a picture of a birthday greeting to Jennie. You immediately called Rosie to make sure, uncaring that you woke her up in the middle of the night since she was in Australia. She hung up as soon as she said yes.

You didn’t think Jennie would want to spend part of her birthday with you, of all people. You also didn’t think she wouldn’t share this piece of information with you. Your mistake for not knowing it was her birthday because she only ever said it was at the beginning of the year. Sure, you could have asked for an exact date, but still.

This wasn’t how you expected things to go.

Things were weird between you and Jennie after Sana’s party. You didn’t bother meeting with them when Lisa invited you. You had to clear your head because all these mixed signals from Jennie were throwing you off. If you were in the same vicinity, especially with the not-tense exchange in the elevator, you were sure you’d say something you’d regret. You were still surprised she didn’t slap you for what you said. It was warranted.

You saw her right before the year ended, and things were the same–in a way.

You still spoke to each other the same, but there was something between you that you couldn’t ignore. She felt it too. There was some truth to what you said, even if it was very little, because she acted very much like a jealous girlfriend. You contemplated talking to Lisa about it, someone who gave reasonable advice, but opted not to because Lisa had been trying to get you two together, that it would make her try harder.

Jennie was more guarded than when you first met her. She was still polite and open to talking to you, but you got the impression there was more she wanted to say. She never did, leaving you to wonder.

Then, you happened to be meeting Jinseok and Habin for drinks after work when you saw Jennie sitting alone at the bar. You didn’t want to say hello, but something compelled you to. When you approached, Jennie’s face lit up in surprise, but a small smile formed. You made small talk, asking about her day and what she was doing there, which she said she was waiting for Hyujin in the ladies’ room before they went off to dinner.

You couldn’t help yourself from asking will you go on a date with me, but the words fell from your mouth. You froze, realizing that you didn’t intend to ask her out again, but it happened and she actually agreed.

Jennie chose today as the day, but she’s not even here. You were losing hope that she was even going to show since she’s thirty minutes late. The sympathetic looks you’re receiving from the staff has you feeling low.

You fold the napkin on your lap, placing it on the table. You couldn’t wait anymore, chalking this date as a fluke. She probably didn’t mean to say yes.

When you turn to wave your waitress over, you’re met with the sight of Jennie rushing towards you. She pants, out of breath, once she reaches the table, shaking her head.

“I’m so sorry,” You hear her say, watching her lean on the chair. “My phone died as I was leaving my place, and there was traffic because of the snow.”

You lower your hand, giving her an understanding nod. It didn’t matter if she was another thirty minutes late. None of that matters now because she was always going to show up.

“Happy birthday, Jen,” You say softly, standing to help her take her coat off.

She gives you the brightest smile, which has you absolutely giddy.

--

It’s getting late, but no one in the restaurant seems to mind. It’s practically empty except for a couple of the staff–your waitress included–as they begin setting up to close. You assume they wanted to see how the night would pan out.

This has been the best date you’ve ever been on, and you hope that there’s another and another.

It’s different being with Jennie like this.

You’re so used to being with her with other people around, that being alone with her made you nervous you wouldn’t have anything to talk about. Surprisingly, you had a lot to talk about. She’s much more open with you, telling you about her day and how her coworkers held her up after work to ask more details about the date she was going on. You teased her, which she took in stride because it was a big deal she had a date. She explained she didn’t talk that much about her private life, but it slipped out that she had plans with someone–a man of all people–to celebrate her birthday.

“I didn’t even know it was your birthday. I found out through Lisa’s post.”

“Well, I didn’t want you to think it was a big deal.”

It is a big deal that you’re spending part of her birthday with her, and she knows it. She’s making a statement, and you think you’re understanding it correctly.

You’re also learning Jennie’s much more expressive than she lets on. She’s generally cool and collected, smiling at the right times, when she’s around you and her friends. She’s animated when she tells you about herself, what she likes, dislikes, and how she cried watching a recent drama because it was so sweet. You’ve watched her expressions change throughout the night as she tells you things you’ve never heard about her.

“You didn’t have to pay,” Jennie looks away when the waitress picks up the bill, your card tucked in between the folds. “I’m still sorry for being late.”

“It’s fine,” You wave her off. You planned to pay anyway, regardless if it was her birthday or not. You cared the most about Jennie showing up. She scared you a bit running late, but she’s here.

“You say it is, but I feel terrible about it,” You can tell she means it. “I didn’t want you to be upset.”

“Jennie,” You say softly, reaching for her hand on the table, hoping it wouldn’t be too much. She doesn’t flinch, thankfully. “It’s okay. You’re here. I’m honored you wanted to spend part of today with me.”

“Still,” Jennie pouts, and it makes you want to kiss it away.

“Answer me this then,” You rub the back of her hand with your thumb, “Why’d you finally say yes? I’ve been asking you out for months.”

You can see the wheels turning in her head as she formulates an answer. The waitress is back with the paid bill, giving her time to think of a response as you sign. Once you shut the book, you wait expectantly.

Jennie sighs, this time reaching for your hand, absentmindedly playing with your fingers, “I couldn’t really give you an answer. I’ve seen how you interact with girls and Jisoo-unnie has been in my ear about how you’re a player and not good to women. She even went as far to call you a pig,” You couldn’t stop the eyeroll if you wanted to, which Jennie doesn’t miss. “But after seeing how you were with Mina, it’d made me think Jisoo’s wrong, and that it’d be nice to be with you like that.”

“So you were jealous,” You smirk behind your wine glass. Jennie pinches your skin, but quickly soothes the area with her finger.

“I wouldn’t call it jealousy,” Jennie shakes her head, adding, “I don’t get jealous.”

“Sure.” She’s in denial, but this is still too new for you to start joking with her like that–whatever this is.

“Anyways, I saw a side of you I’ve never seen,” Jennie’s gaze meets yours. “I just thought that could be with me.”

You take a moment to process everything she said, but it’s all jumbled with how she’s looking at you.

The only thought you have right now is that you want to kiss her.

--

“Jennie,” You groan as your back hits the doorknob, metal digging into your body as she presses herself against you.

“What?” Jennie murmurs against your lips, hands swiftly moving to unbutton your coat, shrugging the article of clothing down your shoulders before it hits the hardwood floor.

“We don’t have to do anything,” You moan out after her teeth bite gently on your bottom lip.

You didn’t think the night would end like this.

You offered her a ride home since you drove, and you didn’t exactly trust a stranger since it was late. She declined at first because she lived on the other side of the city, and she didn’t want you to go out of your way. She relented after assuring her that you wanted to, adding sweetly that it was making up for the time spent waiting for her.

You couldn’t explain it, but something shifted once you entered the car. The tension was palpable that you couldn’t do anything but focus on the road. At one point, Jennie took your hand and placed it on her thigh. Her fingers played with your hand, lightly brushing over your skin that had your body shivering underneath her touch.

If Jennie noticed your internal struggle, she didn’t say anything. She kept on talking as if your body wasn’t having a visceral reaction.

As soon as you parked in the driveway, shutting the car off, Jennie turned to you, fingers interlaced, “Do you want to come inside?”

You berated yourself for making a simple question sound so dirty, but you nodded dumbly as Jennie smiled. She let go of your hand and turned away to open the car door. You hurried out of the car to get the door for her, which you were able to open it enough for her to stand up. When you shut the door, she leaned against the car, looking up at you.

Neither of you moved, but all of a sudden, her lips were on yours and your hand shot out to grip the car frame. Her arms encircled around your neck, pulling your body flush against hers. You heard the soft moan as your tongue grazed her bottom lip, automatically granting you access that ignites a fire.

You thought of your first kiss with Jennie in your head multiple times, but the reality was so much better. Her lips were soft, but demanding, as the months leading up this moment boiled over. You felt all the pent up energy in your body leave as your tongues wrestled in a frenzy.

Jennie pulled away, breaking the kiss, as her hand found its way on your chest to gently push you off. You didn’t say anything as she dragged you towards the entrance, dazed from the kiss.

You probably should have paid more attention to your surroundings, but you wrapped your arms around Jennie as she inserted the key into the lock, making sure she knew exactly how she made you feel.

Once the door opened, Jennie pounced.

“I know we don’t,” Jennie tears her lips off yours, trailing kisses on your jaw. “I want you.”

“Are you sure?” Your control’s slipping when she sucks lightly on your neck. You want her, that much was obvious. You also want her in the morning and the next.

“Yes, and before you ask again, yes,” Jennie leans back to look at you, giving you a small nod that she feels the same.

You’re about to say something when Jennie drops to her knees, hands unbuckling your belt and untucking your dress shirt. Your head falls back, hitting the door as she quickly undoes the button.

“I want,” You try to get out but Jennie palms you through your briefs, “To go out again.”

“We will,” Jennie nods, slipping her hand underneath the waistband before a soft fist encircles around your cock. “You’re bigger than I imagined,” She comments as she strokes you slowly.

It goes straight to your head as she frees you from the confines of the fabric, shrugging your pants down mid-thigh. You watch her eyes widen as she sees your cock up close.

“Jennie,” You grit out, the sight of your cock over her face has you losing your balance. You’re thankful the door’s holding you upright.

Jennie gives you an innocent look before her next move has her everything but. She pokes her tongue, flicking your tip, that has you pressing your weight against the door. Your hands ball into a fist as you watch her kiss all over your cock. She licks up and down, swirling over the tip, and you can’t help the guttural groan leaving your body as her lips wrap around the head.

That’s when you knew you were in trouble.

You’re entranced as Jennie slowly takes more of you inside her mouth. You could cum right then and there, and you almost do the moment your tip touches her throat. She coughs slightly, pulling back for air.

“I don’t think I could take you right now,” Jennie whispers, gaze locked on you while her hands don’t remain idle.

“Practice makes perfect,” You quip, ignoring the tension in your stomach as her mouth engulfs you again. Her cheeks hollow out, the suction causing your eyes to roll back. “You’re so good.”

“Am I?” Your cock’s out of her mouth, a resounding pop echoes through the house.

“Yes,” You nod, bringing a gentle hand to thread through her locks. Her expression darkens, eyes filled with lust that has you wondering how far you could go. “So good.”

Jennie raises herself, keeping her hand around your cock. You gulp when she leans against you, breath against your lips, “As much as I’d like to drain you with my mouth, which I will at some point, I need this,” She squeezes your cock, the pain never felt so good, “Inside me.”

You can’t do anything but nod. Jennie literally has you in the palm of her hands, and if she wanted you to fuck her, who are you to say no?

--

You’re doing everything you possibly can to not snap your hips forward. You’ve resorted to doing mental math because the sensation of Jennie’s pussy wrapped around your cock has your head(s) spinning.

Her walls pulse as your length sinks deeper into her. You couldn’t ignore the sounds falling from her mouth, the soft moans and breathy sighs as her body takes you in.

It isn’t without preparation because you spent a fair amount of time in between her legs. You might’ve gotten drunk on her taste, that she had to physically pull you off from overstimulation. You didn’t know how many times she came, but it was evident on your face and the bedsheet.

“You’re too big,” Jennie pants out, hands wrapped around your wrist, gripping tightly that her nails dig into your skin.

“We can stop,” It pains you to say that, but you don’t want to hurt her.

Jennie frantically shakes her head, biting her lip, “No no no. I want it, please.”

“Baby,” The nickname leaves your mouth easily, and her pussy twitches, “Just breathe.”

Her grip loosens as you watch her chest rise slowly before expelling a long breath. Your jaw clenches as you feel your cock slide in more, and you shouldn’t have glanced down.

It’s absolutely filthy the way she sucks you in. You’re over halfway in, and you genuinely didn’t know if you’d be able to last.

“Kiss me.”

You bring your lips down, distracting her and yourself. She moans into your mouth, greedily swallowing every sound and breath as she wraps her arms around your shoulders, pulling you deeper into her body.

“Fuck,” Jennie’s head snaps back, tearing her lips away as her little move brings all of you in.

You swear you feel something leave your body, whether it was your impending orgasm or your soul, you didn’t know. All you know is that having Jennie wrapped around you—tight, wet, and hot—has you burying your face in the crook of her neck.

“You feel so good,” You groan against her skin, pussy tightening at the praise. “Jennie,” You choke out.

“Tell me I’m good,” Jennie commands quietly, and there’s a shift in the air, something you’ve never experienced with any of the women you’ve been with—something darker.

“Who said you were?” You taunt, nipping softly at her ear.

“You don’t think so?” Jennie plays dirty, wrapping her legs around your waist, pulling you deeper into her that has both of you sucking in a breath.

“That definitely wasn’t good,” You grit out as you subtly shift your hips, eyes rolling back as she chuckles.

“I’m sure you could make me,” She kisses you sweetly on the cheek before saying, “You know you want to.”

Things go downhill, or uphill, depending on how you look at it.

In that very moment, her words break something inside you, unleashing the control you tried so hard to keep. You don’t give her, or yourself, any notice when you slide your length out, keeping your tip snug between her lips before thrusting back in, her body jolting at the movement.

“God, yes,” Jennie moans, her limbs hugging you tighter to her body as you start bucking into her, hands sliding underneath her small frame.

You’re not sure if you black out, but the only thing spurring you on is Jennie’s moans and breath on the side of your face as you pump in and out of her slick. You thought it would be difficult, given how long it took for her to take you, but as you move easily within her body, thrusting and rolling your hips to hit that spot inside of her. It’s like she was made for you.

“Jen,” You don’t recognize your voice after a particularly hard thrust and squeeze from her, signaling that you were close.

“That fast?” You don’t need to see her face to know she’s smirking, but it’s a façade. The way she’s pulsing around you proves she’s right there with you.

“You feel so fucking good,” And her pussy reacts, squeezing as her breath hitches, nails scratching down your back. “You like hearing that, huh? Be good for me, baby.”

It happens suddenly, knocking the wind out of you as Jennie’s body seizes, back arching, chest pushed against yours when she screams. A gush of wetness covers you as her orgasm rips through her body, triggering yours that you had no time to pull out. You capture her lips, groaning as you paint her insides white, hips stuttering as her walls throb—pulse—along your cock.

Jennie whines as her wombs fill with your essence, moaning, whispering how good it feels inside her. She rocks her hips, making sure she milks you dry before her limbs sprawl out on the bed.

You’re usually not this reckless, especially when it comes to sex. You tend to use protection, but that seemed to go out the window. Jennie was too determined, too tempting, too hot that it didn’t cross your mind—at all.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” You mutter, pulling quickly out as your lust-filled mind clears. Jennie lets out a small gasp. “Fuck I’m so sorry.”

“What? Hey, where are you going?!” Jennie’s legs try to wrap around you before you step away, but you’re quicker.

“We didn’t use protection,” You say harshly, shaking your head at your carelessness.

“Okay? And?” Jennie sits up as you start pacing back and forth in front of her. “I’m clean and on the pill. Are you?”

“Of course I am. I get tested regularly,” You roll your eyes, slightly offended by her accusation.

“Okay, so we’re fine. If I wanted to use a condom, I would’ve made you put one on, so can you just come back to bed. You’re stressing over literally nothing,” Jennie reaches for your arm, pulling you to stand in front of her. “It was great,” She places a soft kiss on your stomach, peering up at you. “Lay with me.”

Jennie’s stronger than she lets on, pulling you down to lay next to her. She rests her head on your chest, locking a leg over yours so you have nowhere to go. It calms you, being wrapped around by her. You sigh contentedly as her finger absentmindedly traces over your abdomen.

“You know,” Jennie says quietly, “I’m sorry for how I’ve been with you since the day we met.”

“You had your reservations, it’s understandable,” You place a soft kiss on her forehead. “But I swear that I’m not that much of a fuckboy as Jisoo makes me out to be.”

Jennie chuckles, shaking her head, “I see that. I do. I think I can trust you.”

“Are you saying you want to be my girlfriend? One date was all it took?” You tease, earning a light slap.

“Maybe take me out some more, and I can see us being together,” Jennie kisses underneath your jaw.

Something blooms in your chest, that same feeling you had when you first saw Jennie all those months ago. It’s scary to feel this strongly about her so quickly, but you’ll lean into the feeling because whether you want to or not, you know you’ll fall in love with her.

If you haven’t already.

“And with how you are in bed,” Jennie murmurs against your skin, “I’m not entirely keen on sharing you with anyone.”

You don’t plan on being with anyone else after her because there’s something there that only she could get to.

Instead of being all sweet and romantic, you opt to respond with a joke, “So you are the jealous type.”

“Possessive might be a better word,” Jennie whispers seductively. “I’m sure it would take very little from me to make you mine.”

“Do I want to be yours?” You quip, rubbing her skin softly.

“I’m sure I could convince you,” Jennie mumbles, kissing you sweetly one last time before she climbs on top of you. “Right?” Her eyes narrow as she subtly grinds along your cock, waking at the movement.

“Maybe,” You nod, eyes locked on her as she smirks.

“Can you go again? Or do you need a break?” Jennie bends forward, meeting your lips with hers. She dips her tongue into your mouth and you moan softly against her.

“I might need some help,” You say sheepishly as she giggles.

“I want you in my mouth anyways,” Jennie murmurs, trailing her lips down your neck as she shifts her body. “I’ll be good.”

And fuck you know she will be.

-- --

“I love you,” Jennie drunkenly mumbles against your lips, wrapping her arms around your neck as she tries to deepen the kiss.

“Baby,” You smile, trying to keep this kiss as PG as possible given you’re at a club with all of your friends.

“I do,” Jennie pulls away, pouting.

That’s the thing you’ve learned about Jennie these past few months. She doesn’t talk about her feelings a lot, but when she does, it’s one of the things you love the most about her.

And yes, you love her. You’re in love with her. You told her after three months of making it official. She didn’t say it back, nor did you expect to. She keeps her feelings to herself, only sharing them with her closest friends. As time went on, she opened up, telling you how she felt in not so many words, but enough to know she was falling for you, hard.

“I love you too, Jen,” You grin, watching her roll her eyes underneath the strobe lights.

“You’re not hearing me, I love you,” Jennie crosses her arms. “Like I’m in love with you.”

Oh.

“You’re drunk,” You shake your head because her telling you she’s in love with you, drunk, in the club, with all your friends around, wasn’t how you expected this confession.

“I am,” Jennie nods, scooting closer to you enough to swing her legs over yours. “But I know what I’m saying and I’m in love with you.”

“You’ll tell me again in the morning?” You raise an eyebrow, not wanting to get your hopes up.

Jennie nods, leaning forward to kiss you again. “I’ll show you just how much I love you till then.”

You tap her legs, moving them away, before standing up. “Let’s go.”

“Where are we going?” Jennie asks as you pull her up, interlacing your fingers together.

“Home,” You say simply, and she gives you the brightest smile before nodding.

“Make me cum tonight, yeah?” Jennie whispers seductively in your ear.

Like you won’t.

--

You’ve always been a light sleeper, and when you feel the bed dip, you wake up slowly. You watch Jennie slip on your shirt, feet padding into the bathroom.

Last night was intense in the best kind of way.

Jennie showed you exactly how much she loved you by the way she rode you until you came inside her. She wouldn’t let you rest, keeping your cock inside of her until you got hard again. She begged you to keep fucking her, the word daddy got thrown around, and that was it for you.

Right before she came, she told you she loved you again and you let her come around your cock as you fucked her from behind, thrusting inside of her before you met your release.

Jennie’s back in the room, sliding underneath the blanket before snuggling into your side. “I know you’re awake.”

“What gave me away?” You ask, clearing your throat when you realize your voice is thick with sleep.

“You always wake up whenever I leave the bed,” Jennie murmurs.

“Can’t help that I miss you as soon as you go.”

“Such a sweet talker,” Jennie giggles, “But I do have something to tell you.”

You wait, giving her the time she needs to gather her thoughts.

Jennie lets out a shaky breath before looking at you, “I love you. Like I’m in love with you, and you know that I’m not really someone who expresses my feelings, but yeah I’m in love with you. I think I was always going to since the day I met you.”

You smile, closing your eyes contentedly. “Thanks.”

“What?” Jennie slaps your chest. “Say it back!”

“I love you, Jen,” You open one eye, “You’ve known this.”

“I know,” Jennie huffs, slapping your chest again. “But still.”

“Careful, I don’t need you getting all soft on me now,” You tease and she huffs against your neck.

You might be joking, but you know how serious Jennie’s being. She’s never had a relationship, and you feel some pressure being her first. It’s not enough to have you running because you want to make this work.

She is, after all, the woman you’re going to marry.

-- -- --

[hyukakisses]

— yandere hyuka headcanons!

pairing: huening kai x reader!!

plot: just random yandere hyuka thoughts!!

warnings: english is NOT my first language, nothing i write should be taken seriously, (SMUT!), emo, mean, brooding, yandere hyuka basically dating sweet reader who’s a loser too kinda.. (probably a lot more warnings to list)

໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১⠀ ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১⠀ ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১⠀ ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১⠀ ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১

-yandere hyuka who would avoid you at first at all costs, internally cursing at himself to not fall for you each time you waved at him during school with a gummy smile on your face

-yandere hyuka who would groan quietly to himself when he saw your perky self walk over to his empty lunch table, screaming at himself ‘don’t sit here please don’t sit here’ only to smile when you sat next to him

-yandere hyuka who would look forward to seeing you; not wanting to admit it because he’s stubborn but he even learned your schedule just so he can have an excuse to talk to you <3

-yandere hyuka who would act like he hated your clinginess, but secretly loved how you needed him; he just hated how you kept calling him ‘the bestest friend ever!’ but he managed

-yandere hyuka who would eventually gifts you things, nonchalantly sighing at your thank yous. “for me? hyuka you’re the best! thank you!” you’d squeal hugging the taller male, you were excited that your bestfriend gifted you a stuffed animal however you were aware of the hidden cameras planted in them. “yeah yeah tell anyone about this and i’ll kill you alright?”

-yandere hyuka who shamelessly got himself off using your used panties, that was if you weren’t in your room touching yourself of course. hyuka hated how badly he wanted you

-yandere hyuka who grew bored of just watching over your room through his monitors, and waited until you were gone to the mall to snoop around your bedroom. pretend to cringe at how much pink was is in but secretly loving how cute you had everything set up. grinning mischievously as he looks under your bed to find your journal

-yandere hyuka who would melt at your journal entries, reading over and over again about how much you loved the black haired male, how much you craved for his love and validation hoping to god the emo boy just noticed you and reciprocate the same feelings back :(

-yandere hyuka who would print out your entire journal, making copies so he can sneak back your precious notebook before you could notice. his ego inflating every time he re reads them <3

-yandere hyuka who would subtly show that he wanted you from now on, buying polar opposite matching bracelets from hot topic bringing them to school the next day. “give me your arm” you obeyed with a confused blink, before letting out a gasp in shock. “hyuka! thank you! i’ll treasure this with my life!” you hugged your arm once huening kai place the bracelet on you. hyuka rolling his eyes resisting to smile

-yandere hyuka who would try to act annoyed when you begged to go over his house, “fine but you better bring those sour patch candy i like so much” but deep down hyuka was excited for you to comeover immediately shutting off the surveillance vidoes on his monitors

-yandere hyuka who finally asked you to be his girlfriend after months of being just friends, cringing at the loud squeals and giggles you’d let out when you replied with an eager yes, immediately latching his lips onto yours as in attempt of shutting you up

-yandere hyuka who would mansplain to you about whatever video game he was playing, squinting his eyes at you when you kept losing, “no you idiot i already told you press down on circle then press on square are you deaf??” “n-no” “okay so stupid then”

-yandere hyuka who was obsessed with eating you out, getting drunk on how your pussy tasted and on the sweet sounds you’d make when you were close <3

-yandere hyuka who would quickly go from nonchalant to possessive and controlling when you two got together, “oh you are so not leaving in that outfit get changed” “i don’t want you hanging out with that girl anymore you hear me? im your boyfriend im all you need” “why can’t you see that you need me?” “you better not leave me or i swear to god i’ll kill you”

-yandere hyuka who would often make you cry due to his mean nature, but always gained your forgiveness whenever he’d baby you and apologize, even if he didn’t feel sorry he just knew it was something you needed to hear

໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১⠀ ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১⠀ ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১⠀ ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১⠀ ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১

a/n: i missed writing ;(

[bellaxgiornata]

Seeking Forgiveness [Part Two]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader Word Count: 3.7k

[Full summary and installment list for this series can be found here.]

Warnings/tags: 18+ contains angst, emotional hurt, delayed comfort, pregnant Reader

a/n: I am so happy to see how much love this series has already gotten! And now part two of this angsty series is finally here! The next installment is already written and will be in Matt's POV. Feedback is always appreciated!

Tag List: @mattmurdocksstarlight @just-going-through-the-motions @paracosmic-murdock @yeonalie @auroraslibrary @1988-fiend @will-delete-this-later-probably @two-unbeatable-beaters @danzer8705 @ragamuffin285 @callmebrooklynbabes @spookyboogyuniverse @peachy-aisha @stevenknightmarc @nerdytreeflower @fucktthisworld @remuslupinwifee 

Curled up on your couch, having made yourself as small as possible, you’d been half-watching the series that you had playing on Netflix. Mostly you’d had it on for the background noise, not wanting to feel quite as alone as you actually were. Eyes closed, you lay there huddled under your softest blanket drifting in and out of sleep. As much as you didn't want to admit it, you'd picked this blanket because it had been Matt’s favorite one at your place, soft even to his senses. The pair of you had curled up on your couch underneath it together countless times in the past.

Turning and burying your face into your pillow, you fought down yet another wave of nausea at the movement and attempted to muffle the whimper that slipped out of you at the thought of Matt. It had only been just over a day since your fight with him which had ultimately ended the relationship. He’d never even reached out to you once he’d eventually returned home Thursday night after dealing with whatever had been more important than staying and talking to you. He hadn’t made a single attempt to discuss the important thing you’d told him you'd needed to talk to him about, either, clearly not finding it important enough to give it his attention. And he obviously must not have cared about how hurt you’d been that night when he'd left–which had seemed very unlike the Matt you’d initially fallen in love with. 

He didn’t reach out to you all of Friday, either. Not that it had really come as a surprise to you. Though that hadn’t stopped you from staring at your phone on and off throughout the day, willing him to call and apologize and prove that his behavior lately wasn’t really him. But your phone never rang and that only further cemented your anger at Matt. So you never made an attempt to reach out to him in return. Instead, you’d spent most of your day at work crying or trying not to puke in a bathroom stall, barely able to focus on getting anything done. 

If Matt had wanted to talk to you, he’d have reached out and talked to you. Things were over between you both now, that was incredibly apparent. Despite how hurt you were about the way things had ended, and how much you'd been crying over Matt and the breakup along with your current situation, you were also absolutely pissed at Matt, too. Pissed that he had treated you the way he had recently–and pissed at yourself for sticking around long enough thinking that wasn’t Matt. Because it clearly was with how often he’d broken promises to you, even if he’d never been quite like that in the almost year and a half you’d both been together. He’d certainly changed on you, showing you his true self which was too wrapped up in playing savior trying to protect Hell’s Kitchen.

Now it was Saturday morning and you’d woken up feeling exceptionally hormonal and nauseous. You hadn’t even been able to finish the buttered toast you’d made this morning in the hopes of settling your stomach, the taste of it so strong that you found yourself gagging until you’d tossed it in the garbage and opened a window to alleviate the smell of it in your apartment. You’d read about the heightened sense of smell for pregnant women just last night when you’d been researching early pregnancy symptoms and wondering what to expect. Immediately your first reaction was to call Matt, wanting to tell him and make a joke about having super senses just like him. But the moment you’d pulled up his contact on your phone, you’d remembered you couldn’t call him.

You’d spent this morning trying your hardest not to think about him and then inevitably sobbing into your pillow when you failed. You had already flipped it around a handful of times now, but still you couldn’t seem to find a spot to rest your head that wasn’t already soaked from your tears. It didn’t help that you were hungry–almost ravenous–but simultaneously disgusted by the thought of any and all food. You were tired, too. A level of tired you’d never felt before, and you figured your past few nights of poor sleep weren’t the only thing to attribute that to.

All you wanted to do today was sulk on your couch. You’d made an appointment for Tuesday with an obstetrician for your first visit and you’d already placed a grocery order last night–making sure you added prenatals and plenty of fresh fruit to your order. Now you just wanted to wallow in misery for a while and pray that the nausea didn’t last the entirety of the first trimester. You didn’t think you’d survive that on top of dealing with a broken heart.

But all your plans to be lonely and miserable fell right out the window the moment you heard a few knocks sound out from your apartment door behind you. Groaning, you buried your face further into the cold, damp pillow. Half of you hoped it wasn’t Matt, the other half of you wanted to smack him with one of his billy clubs.

“Who’s there?” you called out, words partially muffled by pillow.

“It’s Karen,” the familiar voice replied a little hesitantly. “I brought coffee and bagels.”

You groaned again, the few contents of your stomach swirling around uncomfortably at the thought of either of those things. And you loved coffee and bagels.

Reluctantly you pushed yourself up from the couch, pausing for a moment when you were hit with a surge of dizziness. You moaned pathetically, running a hand across your forehead as you waited it out. When the room finally stopped spinning, you fully rose to your feet before taking your time making your way over to your apartment door.

Opening it, you were greeted with the sight of Karen in casual clothes. Which meant she hadn't gone into the office this morning, though judging by the sad smile on her face as she quickly scanned you over, you knew that she'd heard about the breakup. Or at least suspected it. 

"Hey," she greeted you gently, holding up the cardboard coffee holder in one hand and the brown paper bag of bagels in the other. "I brought an offering of comfort."

"So you know?" you asked her.

Stepping to the side, you gestured her into your apartment. Karen didn't hesitate, heading straight towards your living room as you closed the door after her. Slowly you turned, trudging your way to your living room and trying your best not to look like you were going to be sick. 

“Suspected,” Karen said, glancing over her shoulder at you. “But now I feel like my suspicions have been confirmed.”

Settling down onto the couch beside Karen, you watched as she reached over towards your coffee table and pulled a coffee out of the holder. Turning towards you, she offered it to you with a warm smile. You reached out, about to accept the cup from her hand–desperate for caffeine–but when the strong aroma of caramel and espresso from the latte hit your nose, you nearly retched. Grimacing, you quickly waved a hand at the coffee, shaking your head and cringing away from it. Karen drew her hand back, sniffing the coffee with a furrow between her brows as she eyed the cup in her hand. 

"You usually get caramel lattes, right?" she asked, glancing up at you in confusion. 

"Yeah, I just–just don't feel like coffee right now," you lied.

"Okay," Karen replied slowly, setting the coffee back down on your coffee table. "So do you want to tell me what happened?” she asked, picking up her own coffee and focusing back on you. “Because Matt was…an absolute mess at the office yesterday. I mean, granted, he’s been coming in looking like shit for awhile now, but he seemed half alive yesterday. Wouldn't say why, either, but I had a feeling it involved you.” She paused, her blue eyes surveying you closely. “And judging by the fact that it looks like you've been crying, I'm guessing it does."

You sighed, gaze dropping down towards your lap. There was no point in hiding the breakup. Not from Karen. She was too perceptive and you knew one way or another she’d figure it out. Plus, it would feel good to not feel alone for just a bit.

“Yeah, we broke up,” you confessed. “Thursday night. And it was…awful.”

She gasped, the noise drawing your focus up towards her on the couch beside you. Her hand had frozen with her coffee cup just before her lips, her eyes wide in shock. A second later her cup was lowering back to her lap, her left hand darting out and grabbing yours.

“Are you serious?” she asked. “What the hell happened? I thought you two were doing so well together?”

Shrugging, you felt a lump forming in your throat. You tried to swallow it down, but stubbornly it refused to disappear. 

“We had been until a couple of months ago when things gradually began to go downhill,” you told her. “I knew about him going out as Daredevil. Obviously I had always known about that since we’d started dating. And it hadn’t been an issue because there’d always been compromise in the relationship. But over the past couple of months he’d slowly been going out more and more,” you explained, feeling the tears starting to burn at your eyes yet again this morning. “Until he was going out every single night. For a couple of weeks straight. And he kept repeatedly promising me he’d make time for me over and over, but then he kept forgetting or making excuses and going out as Daredevil instead. And it just–just got to be too much, you know?”

Karen nodded, squeezing your hand gently in hers. “So you ended things with him?” she asked. “Because he kept choosing Daredevil over you?”

You pulled a face at her question, quickly shaking your head. “What? No,” you answered. “I told him I needed to talk to him about something important and he decided that running around as Daredevil was more important than being there for me. And I practically begged him to stay in, Karen. And you know what he did?”

“Something very dumb and Matt-like?” she guessed.

“He got pissed at me like it was all my fault because I didn’t accept what he does as Daredevil!” you exclaimed, anger soon replacing your sadness. “Which is utter bullshit because I have always been supportive of him. Always there to help patch him up and clean the blood off of him at the end of his nights. Making sure he actually ate dinner and helping him remember upcoming appointments because he was always so distracted. Offering him comfort whenever he needed it after a difficult night. And I never once asked him to stop despite how much I worried about him.”

Your right hand curled into a fist in your lap, the memory of the way Matt had spoken to you the other night flooding back. Gritting your teeth together, your focus dropped down to your lap.

“I loved him–loved him even as Daredevil. But I needed him that night, Karen,” you ground out, a tear slipping down your cheek despite your rage. “And I told him that. And yet he still chose to walk out on me.”

Karen was silent beside you for a long moment, her hand tightening around yours. Raising your right hand up, you wiped away a few stray tears with the back of it. You sniffled, your body feeling a confusing mess of anger and sadness that had you wanting to scream and throw everything in your apartment but also curl up in your bed and sleep away your pain. 

“What did you need to talk to him about?” Karen asked softly.

Your hand froze mid-swipe of a tear on your cheek as her question broke the silence. Slowly your eyes slid up, landing on Karen’s knowing blue ones. It was like she already could see right through you to the answer. Yet again you realized there was no point trying to hide something from her, especially because you knew you could confide the truth in her.

“I’m pregnant,” you whispered.

Karen inhaled a sharp breath at your confession, nodding her head slowly in response. Once again you tried to swallow that lump in your throat which now seemed almost permanently stuck there in the silence that followed. 

“So he doesn’t know?” she eventually asked.

You shook your head. “No,” you answered. “I found out Thursday morning. Told him earlier in the day that I really needed to talk to him. But he wouldn’t stay and talk that night. He was rude and mean and then he just left. Never tried to reach out to me afterwards. So we’re just…done. And now I’m trying to figure out how the hell I’m going to raise a child alone in the city.”

Her brows shot up in surprise onto her forehead. “Alone? Why would you be raising it alone? Are you not going to tell Matt he has a child?” she questioned.

Expression shifting quickly, you shot Karen a flat look. “Come on, Karen,” you said. “Of course I’ll tell him. But let’s be real here. Matt isn’t going to want to be a father. The man barely takes care of himself. He can’t even commit to a relationship without messing up his priorities. You think he’d want the responsibilities of having a child? Because I sure as shit don’t. Not after seeing him the other night.”

“Okay, yes,” she agreed, nodding again as she reached over to set her undrank coffee onto your coffee table. “He’s definitely got his flaws. But we’re talking about Matt here. He’s got a big heart underneath all that stubborn, self-flagellating bullshit. He would never turn his back on you–” she abruptly raised a hand to cut you off the moment you’d opened your mouth to counter her comment, “ –or at the very least, his own child.”

You shook your head, running hand across your forehead. Karen meant well, you knew that, but she was wrong. She hadn’t seen him going out every single night, fixated on that stupid Russian mafia like you had for weeks now. She hadn’t seen him that night when he’d talked to you the way he had. A couple of weeks ago, you’d never have believed that was Matt, either.

“I don’t think he’d not have a relationship with his own child,” you told her slowly, “but Matthew Murdock would never want to be a father. There is nothing more important to him than this goddamn city that he thinks he has to protect. So yes,” you stated, “I’m clearly doing this on my own, Karen.”

A slow, sad smile spread over her lips at your words. Shifting uncomfortably on the couch under her stare, your gaze darted over to the unopened bag of bagels on your coffee table. Your stomach gave a hungry lurch at the smell of the cream cheese. Reaching out, you grabbed the bag and immediately began to open it.

“This is the first thing that has smelled good in days ,” you told her.

She laughed lightly, picking her coffee back up and taking a drink. You immediately pulled out one of the packages, ripping it open before tearing a large bite out of the bagel. Somehow it tasted exponentially better than you remembered bagels ever tasting before.

“Have them both,” Karen urged. “I take it you’ve been experiencing pregnancy symptoms already then?”

“Mhmm,” you hummed out, chewing a bite of bagel before swiftly swallowing it down. “I feel like I’m always nauseous and tired. And I’ve been getting headaches nonstop. I’m hungry but almost everything I normally eat sounds and smells absolutely disgusting lately. I couldn’t even stomach buttered toast this morning–I had to open a window just to get the smell out of the apartment.”

Karen winced beside you. “That sounds awful.”

“Yeah, it is,” you replied. “And I researched other symptoms common in pregnancy, and you know what? They don’t sound much better, either.”

Karen’s fingers drummed lightly on her coffee cup as she chewed her lip, eyeing you. You continued to devour the bagel in your hands, your eyes narrowing as you watched her. Eventually one of your brows raised at her in a silent question.

“I don’t know if this is a stupid question,” Karen began cautiously, “but are you…excited at all? About being pregnant? I mean, I know this clearly wasn’t planned and it's all new to you still if you only found out on Thursday but…you’re having a baby. Have you–have you processed that yet?”

Lowering the bagel down to your lap, you let Karen’s question settle in your mind. You really hadn’t given that too much thought in the few days since you’d found out you were pregnant. Admittedly you’d been too focused on initially trying to tell Matt the news. But then when that didn’t go as planned, you’d been trying to deal with the pain of a broken heart while trying to set up an appointment for an obstetrician and also trying to read up on information about early pregnancy. You really hadn’t thought too much about your feelings.

You knew for a fact you wanted this baby, though. There wasn’t a doubt in your mind about that. Not that you had issues with the alternative, but you’d known the moment you’d seen those two pink lines on that pregnancy test that you were keeping it. No matter what that meant.

“I haven’t really thought about it, no,” you admitted quietly. “But I do know I want this.” 

Nervously chewing your lip, you wondered how Karen would feel about a big reason that you were so certain. Would you sound ridiculous considering how things had ended with you and Matt? Was it ridiculous? You weren’t entirely sure of the answer yourself.

“I don’t really know how to explain it but…as angry as I am at Matt and as much as I’m trying to move on from him,” you slowly admitted aloud, “I know there’s–there’s always going to be feelings there for him. That some part of me will always love him. And this baby–” you continued, your left hand unconsciously landing affectionately over your abdomen as your eyes began to water, “–it's a part of him. A part of us . Back when things were good between us. And even though this pregnancy wasn’t planned and it’s not what I would’ve initially chosen to have happen right now, I can’t help but love this child already.” Lips trembling, your gaze dropped down towards your abdomen, your hand continuing to gently rub across the top of it. “I can’t help but already love the fact that it’s both Matt and I in there. Even if I want to scream and slap the shit out of him right now for how much he hurt me.”

A few more tears slipped out of your eyes and you sniffled, turning your head and wiping the dampness on your cheeks onto the sleeve of your shirt. You felt Karen’s hand gently grasping yours again, the one you had resting over your belly. Glancing back towards her, you saw her send you a watery smile herself, her eyes glistening with tears.

“Whatever happens,” she whispered, “you know you’re not alone going through all of this. I’m always here for you. And whenever you tell Fog and Marci, I know they both will be, too. I know I can’t speak for Matt, but know that you’ve always got us.”

Your heart twisted in your chest at her promise. The pain of Matt not being in the picture was a sharp contrast to the love you felt right now from your friends about this situation. A smile gradually spread across your face, tears still trailing their way warm and wet down your cheeks. Though this time not entirely from sadness, but also from gratitude that your time with Matt had at least brought you such wonderful friends. 

“Thank you, Kare,”  you croaked out, reaching across the couch and quickly wrapping her in a hug. “You don’t know how much that means to me to hear. This is…definitely scary trying to navigate alone right now.”

“Well I’ll always be here for you,” she promised again, hugging you tightly back. “ Especially when you need someone to go baby shopping with you or to help put together a baby registry for that shower you know Marci and I are going to throw you. And I’d love to help you pick out little outfits for a girl or a boy anytime.”

You laughed, touched by her enthusiasm as the tears fell a little harder. You eventually pulled away from Karen, wiping a hand across your eyes as you tried to will them to finally stop falling. You’d already spent too much time crying this morning as it was.

“I think it’s a bit longer before I know the gender,” you told her, the faint smile still on your face. “But maybe an impromptu baby shopping trip is in the cards soon. Once I get a little farther along.”

“How far are you?” she asked curiously.

Her blue eyes dropped down towards your stomach, though you knew there wasn’t a baby bump visible yet.

“Nearing six weeks,” you answered, your smile growing a little wider. “At eight weeks I’ll have the first ultrasound, which I’m honestly a little excited for because I think it’ll make this all feel even more real.” Your eyes dropped back down to your abdomen, the smile still lingering on your lips. “And that’s when I’ll get to see them for the first time. Hear their heartbeat.”

At the mention of your baby’s heartbeat, a sharp pang hit you straight in the chest. Your smile faltered instantly as a thought struck you in that very moment. 

Matt wouldn’t need one of those machines to hear their heartbeat.

Your jaw clenched tight, your hand gripping firmly around the partially finished bagel you were still holding. More thoughts suddenly began to race through your mind as you sat there on your couch, briefly forgetting Karen was even there.

How would Matt feel when he heard his own child’s heartbeat for the first time? Would it affect him at all? Enough to ever make something else more important to him than just Hell’s Kitchen?

Because after the other night, you didn’t think anything could do that.

[ao3-shenanigans]

Hi! Just a thing I wrote in honor of Comment Day. Maybe you might want to read/share it?

Every writer I have never known a writer is always happy to get positive feedback, but some readers believe if they leave kudos or a comment, they’re bothering the writer. Here’s a comparison that might explain why that isn’t the case.

Imagine that the fanfic is a play, and the author has worked really hard on the whole thing: costumes, scenery, the plot, characterization, everything. It’s opening night. The stage manager (AO3) gives the author the headcount (hit number) of the audience (the readers). The writer is now able to imagine 10 or 100 or 1000 people sitting in the audience, watching what they have created. While a big number is fantastic, most writers are thrilled anyone wants to see what they’ve made.

When the play is over, the writer comes out to take a bow.  One hundred people are in the audience.

Two people clap (left a kudos).

Everyone else gets up and walks out in silence.

Obviously, the writer is happy these two people clapped, but they’re also thinking, “Did… did the other 98 people hate it? Were those pity claps? Was it that bad?”

That’s what’s happening on AO3. A fantastic single-chapter fic will get over a thousand hits and wind up with maybe 5 to 10% of those readers leaving kudos. The other 90% could include people re-reading, and numbers get more complicated with multichapter fics since readers can leave kudos only once.

But essentially, a lot of readers see a fic as being more like a movie, where the audience just leaves at the end. It’s even harder for an “older” fic (“older” can sometimes be applied to fics posted only a month ago), where the “play” has been running a while, the author is still there doing everything, but now people decide since it’s not new, there’s no point in showing they liked it.

Maybe one in a hundred readers, sometimes fewer, leaves a written comment. This is like hearing someone in that theater cheering. If it’s a piece of feedback that’s more detailed than a keysmash or an “I like this,” that person is giving the author a standing ovation. And if someone recommends the fic somewhere, maybe saying so in a comment, it’s like getting a rave review on the cover of the New York Times!

All of these are happy things. Kudos, comments of any length, recs, all of them make an author’s day shiny and happy. They’re absolutely fantastic! No writer is bothered by anyone doing these things.

Maybe you’re still thinking, okay, I can see I’m not bothering the writer, but does just writing “I really enjoyed this fic” do anything?

Yes. Because there are the other, less happy responses. Some comments might be demands, making the comment less about thanking the writer and more turning it into a to do list for them. Some authors see their work has been bookmarked only to realize it has a note like “this is awful” or “TLDR” or “started okay but was stupid by the end.” The default for bookmarks is everyone can see them. Finally, anyone who has written fic for any length of time has dealt with flames. These aren’t constructive criticism; they’re flat out abuse, ranging from name calling to highly detailed insults that are the exact reverse of a long, happy comment. Authors look in their email, see someone has commented on their fic, and are thrilled, only to read the comment and be told they are worthless, stupid, untalented. Everyone gets these sometimes, and writers should ignore them, but most of us have sometimes cried over them. Picture that same theater full of silent people, with one or two people clapping, and suddenly someone stands up and starts booing and hurling rotten tomatoes on stage. Readers might not even know it’s happening since writers usually delete those comments. But they still sting.

Kudos and compliments are not annoying anyone. Flames, on the other hand, are awful. The difference is the polite reader who chooses to say nothing out of shyness backs away from doing something that will make the writer happy, while the rude reader actively goes out of their way to make the writer unhappy.

I’ve been in fandom quite a while. Interaction has dropped since the old days, and it’s even dropped off over time at AO3. I’m not sure why, unless it’s that readers regard hits as being like views on TikTok. Since TikTok’s algorithm chooses what will show up more often in people’s feeds based on views, that makes some sense there, but AO3 doesn’t do that. There is no popularity contest writers are winning through views. Unless you tell them, they may think you hated what they wrote and that the flames are the genuine overall reaction.

The moral? If you love something, or even like it, show the writer some appreciation. The second it takes to leave a kudos might make them feel happy the whole day.

Comments and Kudos are probably some of the best gifts to give your favorite artists and storytellers (they’re free and easy too!)

[wannab-urs]

Pedro Pascal Character Fic Recs | Vol 42

AO3 | Kofi | Main Masterlist | The Spreadsheet Masterlist

Howdy Folks,

guess who's back! I don't know if I'm back to doing these consistently, but I have a hell of a list for y'all. Tags and summaries provided by the author, commentary provided by yours truly.

Mindfuck - Dave one shot by @whatsnewalycat

He said he could rattle the bees from your buzzing honeycomb brain. All you had to do was trust him with this power. So you did. And you do. Your valiant beekeeper meets you at this hotel every other Tuesday night, except on holidays.

Hypnotism, hypnosis-kink, Imperfect Praxis of Hypnosis, Humiliation, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Praise Kink, Smut, unprotected piv, D/s dynamic, Dom Dave, Mindfuck

One of the weirdest things I've ever read, but also one of the best. I was super into this. Mindfucking is WILD.... I'd read more of this universe in a heartbeat

Bittersweet Love - Dieter one shot by @ozarkthedog

Dieter is in recovery from drug addiction, the disease that cost him you. This is his first premiere after getting clean and his first one without you.

angst but with a happy ending! mentions of drug use and alcohol but nothing graphic.

This is such a sweet fic? That might be a weird way to describe it. I just love Dieter getting his shit together and all the good coming his way because of it.

Starlet - Dieter one shot by @whocaresstillthelouvre

Your husband has a big movie premiere, sure he looks great, but his co-star looks even better.

PWP, threesome, smut, fingering, oral (f receiving), lesbian fun, unprotected p in v sex, cum eating, addiction talk, sober Dieter, Kit Kats, I wrote this for the bi girls.

This fic is a dream, seriously. I want a hot movie star husband to bring pretty movie star women into my bed please and thank you.

Pas de Deux - Din series by @burntheedges

When Din Djarin – principal dancer at Concordia Ballet Company and generational talent in the classical style – suddenly left CBC and joined the Nevarro Ballet Theater mid-season, it shocked the ballet world. You never would have guessed that he would change your life, too.

modern AU, ballet AU, fluff, angst, flirting, dancing, lots of ballet terms (I’ll define things/link videos/etc. -- see below), misunderstandings, character study, romance, pet names (sweetheart, beautiful), lots of tension, later: smut, kissing, grinding, fingering, p-in-v sex, creampie, each chapter will have its own tags, Din lifts reader (see note below about reader)

This is one of the few modern Din AUs I've read, as I tend not to like them, but I can't recommend this enough. I was drawn in by the summary and hooked by the first chapter!

Never Let Me Go - Ezra one shot by @yopossum

Loving, reverent domestic smut with sweet, submissive Ezra.

SMUT; no plot that’s it just porn but with FEELINGS; sub!Ezra; established relationship; super duper in love; domestic fluff; comfort; gratuitous pet names; praise kink; body worship; body hair; grinding; breast and nipple play; teasing/edging if you squint; light bondage; riding; PIV; no condom (there’s come y’all); religious language and imagery as literary device; Ezra the human thesaurus; prose gettin purple; making grown men whine and cry; reader is not gendered, has breasts and a vulva/vagina, is described as having puffed nipples and dimpled thighs, can straddle Ezra, but no coloring, size, appearance, age, or ability is otherwise noted; Ezra is an amputee and healed and we love it (no gore or trauma or background re: his arm); but I did write this because I was watching Prospect without actually watching and was inspired by *~*those sounds*~* out of context tho; Beatrice is not reader’s name, just a nerdy Dante reference; I stole this title from Florence Welch; old person on tumblr; is this spacing wack?; not a beta in sight; 18+ only no minors

SUBMISSIVE EZRA!!! I loved this. Such a gorgeous fic.

Stick Buddies - Frankie series by @auteurdelabre

You and Frankie find yourselves in a complicated situation when invited to Benny's wedding for a week in Mexico. Despite your strained friendship, you both pretend to be a couple to save Frankie embarrassment when seeing his recently engaged ex wife. However as you navigate through this charade, old feelings and unresolved issues resurface.

friends to enemies, angst, fake relationship, bickering, there's only one bed, destination weddings, enemies to lovers, jealousy, idiots in love, revealed secrets, mutual pining, smut, HEA, so many fucking tropes.

friends to enemies to lovers??? Sign me the fuck up.

Where You Left Me - Frankie one shot by @chaotic-mystery

You meet Frankie for a date and reminisce about your relationship.

MAJOR character death. No movie AU but fuck Tom. This is overall angst heavy and please take care of yourself. Grief & loss, sadness, memories, I think that’s it? It’s just overall a bittersweet and tragically lovesick story. There’s no physical descriptions of reader other than wearing a black dress at one point and having hair that tickles Frankie’s nose. no y/n used

This shit made me cry in the best way. Please read this.

One of Your Girls - Frankie one shot by @pedropeach

unpacking some of frankie's old things leads to a revelation about his past. (OR to put it simply: frankie morales x triple frontier boys circle jerk)

Circle Jerk, Sub!Frankie, Bukkake, Facials, Cumplay, Cum Swallowing, frankie is literally a cum dumpster (and loves it), Praise Kink, Pet Names, Dirty Talk, oral (m receiving), Deepthroating, Cock Worship, Use of restraints, Sexy Photographs, Sharing, brief mentions of anal sex (m/m), for story purposes you are frankie's current gf, frankie x all the guys individually, this includes tom but he's not part of the circle jerk, sry tom

Really was not expecting this to be as tender and soft and sweet as it is considering it's one of the more filthy things I've ever read. Absolutely love it.

I'll Carry You - Javi P series by @almostfoxglove

You reunite with your childhood best friend when he arrives home from Colombia. Javier's sudden return to your life exhumes buried heartbreak, but he longs to set things right.

Eventual smut. Reference to canon-typical violence, injury, and the death of a parent. Plenty of alcohol consumption, yearning, and angst. YEARNING!!!

The yearning is exquisite. The fic is exquisite. I'm in love with this fic

Remorse for Remedy - Joel series by @pedgito

Alone, the Miller's brothers seem like your only hope. The outbreak is still fresh, weeks after the fall and all that matters is survival and the unlikely comfort that comes along with a man who wants nothing to do with you.

early outbreak, canon typical violence, morally grey!joel, smut (warnings given with each chapters), exploration of kinks, enemies to lovers, age gap (early 20s/mid 30s), unhealthy coping mechanisms, detailed warning with each chapter

I haven't ever read a series about Joel immediately post outbreak, which is wild. It's always raider!joel or qz!joel or jackson!joel. I love this new perspective and I'm so excited to read more.

Biology - Joel one shot by @endlessthxxghts

Joel hurt his back at work, so you've been helping him around the house until he heals.

able-bodied, female sex anatomy, and inherently fem!reader. No description of reader, everything is neutral (ex. “your bottoms,” “the curve of you” — nothing is specific in the way “you” are described). Age gap (reader early 20s, Joel in 50s). EXPLICIT MATERIAL PRESENT. HEED THE WARNINGS. WEIRD boundaries are crossed…you're not blood-related to Joel, but you were raised like you were. You call him “uncle.” Pet names (baby, darlin’, sweetheart, etc.). Pussy pronouns (she). Innocent touches until it isn't. Sexual tension galore. Slight dub-con. Icky Joel. Icky reader. Pussy grinding. Dirty talk. Slight degradation (“bitch” is used only once). Multiple orgasms. P in V unprotected. Reader is on top. Lots of teasing about the nature of yours and Joel’s relationship.

Well slap me silly and call me an uncle fucker because this fic was amazing. (they're not really related don't. look. at. ME.)

The Savage and the Sanctuary - Joel series by @justagalwhowrites

After the death of his daughter, Joel Miller fell apart. But when searching for answers at the bottom of a bottle and within his own rage doesn't fix it, he resigns himself to working for his brother in private security. It's a job that starts him down the path to stability and a semblance of a life, even if it's not one he particularly wants. At least it does until you show up. The biggest movie star in the world with your newly adopted niece in tow, you throw everything about Joel's life into flux. Is he capable of letting himself feel something again while protecting the only things left in the world that matter?

Protective Joel, Ellie & Joel Bonding, Joel is Bad at Feelings, POV Joel, Joel Needs a Hug, Alternate Universe - No Cordyceps Outbreak, Enemies to Lovers, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn

So pumped for a new Kit fic. Super into bodyguard Joel. The angst right out the gate is so beautifully painful, I just know I'm gonna cry once a chapter at least. (i've only read one chapter, so I have some catching up to do!)

Professor's Pet - Joel one shot by @chaotic-mystery

Professor Miller wants you to teach the class tomorrow morning & you need help being less nervous. What if he’s the reason you’re nervous, though?

Age gap but not specified, power imbalance (professor x TA, reader stutters when nervous, academic weapon, teasing, fingering, one (1) pair of panties ripped to shreds, oral (f receiving), spitting, pussy slaps, praise kink, name calling (good girl, sweetheart, baby, smart girl), dirty talk, talking you through it, spanking, condescending a little bit, cum eating, face riding, nasty freaky kisses to share your cum, no use of y/n

I cannot begin to explain how hot him helping her practice is. And then the smut.... I need a shower

Call It What It Is - Joel one shot by @joelsgreys

A disagreement over patrol duty leads to declarations that have been long overdue.

JACKSON ERA JOEL. established relationship. HEFTY AGE GAP (reader is in her 20’s and joel is 56). ellie and joel are fine bc i said so and they deserve nothing less. reader handles a rifle, joel’s a little too overprotective and almost seems controlling, but i promise he is not. well, maybe just a smidge. arguing, admission of feelings, joel miller says i love you (yes this is ooc, no i do not care bc i need this old man to tell me he loves me). angst, fluff. quite a bit of side character interaction before we get to joel and reader in the second half. the only physical description of reader is that she is shorter than joel.

We love overprotective Joel in this house

The Guard Dog - Pero Tovar one shot by @avastrasposts

Sent to your uncle's bleak castle in the north of England, you expect only a dreary existence until you meet his groundskeeper, a scarred, frightening Spaniard. But love in the Victorian era is not easy and life doesn't follow straight paths.

this is mainly all fluff with a bit of angst. Some of that casual racism and predjudice of the period rears its ugly head though. I've tried to keep the reader as blank as possible, but it's Victorian England and she's a lady so I have to presume she doesn't speak Spanish and has fair skin. No use of y/n.

This was so beautiful. I love the setting, I love the characterization, I love the story

Bloody Kisses - Tim Rockford/Dio series by @perotovar

shane has been in denial about himself for a while. newly single and with the help of one of his favorite singers, he opens his eyes to a new venture he could possibly take: the cop he sees on a semi-regular basis, detective tim rockford.

takes place in the early 00s, age gap (shane is 23, tim is 40), internalized homophobia, hurtful names (fairy boy, faggot, queer as a slur, etc), a gay porn magazine, lots of references to peter steele of type o negative (and his playgirl issue), male masturbation, acab, angst, protected p in a, fingering, excessive amounts of lube

I started reading this a while ago, but I never added it to the spreadsheet. I'm in love with how soft Tim is with Dio UgH

In the shadows of others, we grow - Tim Rockford/Dave York series by @sin-djarin

What happens when you put two different areas of law enforcement in the same room a few times a year to atone for their 'sins'? You find common ground and figure it out. Together.

M/M, Established D/s dynamics, each chapter contains individual warnings.

This pairing?? Obsessed. The feelings?!?!? Give me 14 more fics in this universe PLEASE

An End to Drought - Javi P one shot by @almostfoxglove

The future of your family's homestead hangs in the balance as Javier Peña comes home in the middle of a drought.

Javier Peña Smut, Soft Javier Peña, Sweet Javier Peña, Javier Peña Has a Big Dick, Smut, Fluff and Smut, Fluff, Neighbors,Javier might be a god? who knows!, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Penis In Vagina Sex, Oral Sex, Creampie, Sex, Vaginal Sex, unprotected piv, Freyr, References to Norse Religion & Lore, Post Season 3

I'm obsessed with the way the challenge was interpreted. Is Javi a god? We don't know... but he sure fucks like one.

Some shit I wrote:

Make it Hurt - Logan Howlett x f!mutant!reader - sparring + pain kink

Morning Ride - Logan Howlett x f!reader - soft morning sex

You're So Dark - Dave York x f!reader - prof!Dave x student!Reader

[leosficlist]

Parentlock Rec List (so far)

This trope is my biggest weakness, so you can expect to find fluff galore, lots of Sherlock being called “dad” for the first time, love confessions and guaranteed happy endings. Mixture of lengths

Parentlock 2, Parentlock 3

A Case for Domestic Propinquity by SilentAuror 32k words

Author’s Summary: As Sherlock and John renovate Baker Street with Rosie underfoot, Sherlock can't help but wondering how he could possibly convince John to just stay indefinitely...

Notes: The way this fic ends is genius, and one of my favorite concepts that I rarely see.

Iris by Slashscribe

Author’s Summary: Sherlock does his best to make John happy when John comes back to 221B with his new baby after the events of Season 3, but Sherlock has a track record of getting things wrong in this area. This story is an exploration of their gradual shift from friends to lovers, told from Sherlock's perspective, full of a lot of pining and lack of emotional awareness. 12k words

Notes: Sherlock falls in love with Johns daughter (named Iris in this), and John falls in love with Sherlock as he watches.

Small Sacrifices by Fandaround

Author’s Summary: Five times that Sherlock made small sacrifices for Rosie and the one time that John realized it was all for him. 3k words

Notes: soft and sweet, sherlock adjusting his life for his favorite people

Family Matter by FaithfulViewers

Author’s Summary: A little girl calling them both her daddies is all it takes for John and Sherlock to realize the obvious: they're a family now. (Parentlock.) 3.8k words

Note: Gen, no kissing or romantic vibes, still lovely and heartwarming

The Dilemma of the Watson Bedroom by Jemariel

Author’s Summary: Sherlock hates the name Rosamund. John wanted to call her Katherine. Sherlock thinks it suits her. Meanwhile, he and John are orbiting ever closer together. Sherlock tries not to wonder how long he will have them here, all three of them together in 221B. 7k words

The Stroke of Midnight by aqueliaofthelonelymountain

Author’s Summary: With asking John this one question, he might induce John to ask other questions himself. Like: Since when are you interested in college reunions? Or worse: You know that most people bring their significant others to college reunions, do you, Sherlock? Like spouses… 9.8k words

Notes: Sherlock thinks John is simply playing along to help him save face, but this is cleared up by the end of the night.

Lines In The Sand by JRow

Author’s summary: "He examines the plain white box, which clearly holds a new mug. John must have purchased it and he’s written a note on the top. “First time for everything. – J” Sherlock smiles and feels excitement as he opens the box. As expected, it’s a mug. It appears to be a boring, white mug. Sherlock pulls it out of the box and his breath hitches as he sees the image decorating the side. It’s not boring at all." 3k words

Notes: John is sappy and open, Sherlock is cautiously hopeful. getting together.

Beautiful Pictures by JRow (again!)

Author’s Summary: An adorable (but unacceptable!) photo of Sherlock and Rosie on the Mail online, a stolen Picasso, and a slip of the tongue force John to re-evaluate his long held assumptions 28k+ words

Notes: casefic, raising rosie together while pining, felt like a quick read, vulnerable sherlock, sherlock calls john when offered drugs, sherlock devotes himself to rosie, john takes a pre kiss walk

What Remains Unsaid by ScullysEvilTwin

Author’s Summary: “Sherlock,” he says quietly, shifting over beneath the now-ruined quilt. “Do you want children?” Sherlock stares at the ceiling, makes no indication that he’s heard John at all, but after a moment, he turns his head to meet John’s gaze. “Look at our lives, John. What a preposterous notion.” [] “Our lives are insane, yes, but you didn’t answer the question, did you?” 5.5k words

Notes: Established relationship, John sees Sherlock interacting with children a few times and decides they should consider their options.

Swan Dive by HitLikeHammers

5+1 Sherlock has definitely leapt blindly into worse things. Or: Five Times Sherlock Acted as a Parent, and One Time He Didn't Have Any Reason for Acting at All. 8k words

Notes: Little scenes from Sherlock raising rosie, absolutely heartwarming

Three Of Us by Salamboo6

Author’s Summary: He leans in as soon as he’s close enough, kissing Rosie’s forehead softly, murmuring a quiet “Morning love” as Sherlock goes into more detailed facts about Rosie’s sleeping habits. John isn’t sure what happens next, but without thinking twice about it and actually feeling like it’s the most natural thing in the world to do right now, he leans in towards Sherlock and kisses his temple with a smile. 2.8k words

Notes: starts with a sleepy kiss, end with getting together

Love Comes Softly by SHERLOCKED79

Author’s Summary: After Mary’s unexpected death leaves John alone to raise a months-old Rosie, the doctor tries to sort through the wreckage of his new life. Thankfully, Sherlock is there to pick up the broken pieces and put them back together. / A short, endearing fic in which it takes John Watson over half a decade of raising Rosie together with Sherlock to finally realize he’s absolutely in love with the man. (And in which John is the only one who doesn’t realize this.) 29k words

Notes: So fluffy I thought it must be a prank, but the love never stops ♡

Love Like Ours by Berty

Author’s Summary: In a moment of madness, John tells Sherlock that he loves him. He had not anticipated where the ensuing conversation would take them. 6,5k words

Notes: Lovely heartfelt, in character, love confessions and clarifications, John catching Sherlock being lovely with Rosies as.

[sundrop-writes]

Better Than Sleeping

Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

Summary:

You and Jason are friends with benefits. Though you have come to realize that the relationship doesn’t always ‘benefit’ you when he ends up annoying you after a long, tiring day of training.

(He quickly makes you come to see that his annoying persistence can benefit you, even if you would never admit it aloud.)

Jason Todd x Fem!Reader. Friends with Benefits. Smut. Set during Season 2.

Word Count: 5,300

DC Titans Masterlist | AO3 Link

THIS IS A RE-POST. This is a fic from my old blog (a blog that was shadowbanned, forcing me to move). This fic is not stolen, it is completely mine, and I am just re-posting it to help people find my new blog, and to make my masterlist complete when I post new fics for this fandom.

Warning: This fic contains Dubious Consent. One character ‘wears down’ the other and ‘convinces them’ to have sex, and both of them display verbal consent that goes against their true actions and desires (they say no to having sex when they do truly want to) and they think of convincing the other person to agree as a kind of ‘game’. It is a relationship that is playful in nature, and this consent is based on bodily queues, facial expressions, and knowing a person’s safety and comfort based on being in a relationship with them for a period of time. If this makes you uncomfortable, please don’t read the fic.

List of detailed warnings and author’s notes below the cut.

Warnings: friends with benefits, this is primarily a smut fic, the reader character uses she/her pronouns and has a vagina, Jason is more dominant and the reader is more submissive (once the sex begins), the reader could be considered a brat, Jason calls the reader ‘babe’ (it is a canon event), Jason calls the reader ‘baby’, Jason calls the reader ‘good girl’, dubious consent - coercion (please see the above for an explanation about this), mentions of masturbation (watching someone masturbate), mentions of fucking someone to sleep/fucking someone while they are asleep, mentions of free use kink, mentions of cumming inside someone/unprotected sex, marking/biting, groping/touching through underwear (reader receiving), orgasm denial (toward the reader), ‘just the tip’,teasing, there is a point where Jason’s dick is inside her without a condom but he doesn’t cum, and he puts on a condom before fully penetrating (what would you call that?), begging, slight mentions of subspace (but it’s more so described as a lustful drunkness), there is implications toward the end of fucking someone to sleep/fucking someone while they are asleep with their permission. I believe that is everything.

A/N: This is definitely one of my favourite things I have written. I thought maybe I was going to edit it some before re-posting it, but I was rereading it the other day and I actually realized that it's really good the way it is, so here you go - some random cocky Jason smut, inspired by the 'just the tip' trope. I hope you enjoy!

...

You knew that becoming a Titan was never going to be easy. 

But fuck, this was a lot harder than you imagined it would be. Dick Grayson was quickly becoming your least favorite person. Between the 5am wake up calls and the endless workout routines, paired with the bland ‘nutrient filled’ meal plans he had everyone on to ‘fuel your bodies’ for training - he was becoming a menial drill sergeant that you couldn’t get away from. One of the only things that made it better was the fact that you had friends around - the ability to joke about him with Rachel, Gar, and Jason behind his back. Was it a bit mean-spirited? Yes. Did you feel less guilty about it whenever he added more onto the training routine? Also yes. 

You had no clue when these skills you were working so hard on were ever going to come into play. Every single night, Dick retired himself into the comms room full of computers to ‘monitor the city for threats’ - but he seemingly never found anything worthy of the team’s attention. At least not yet. So you went about the routine of training hard, becoming exhausted, falling into bed to sleep and then doing it all over again. 

Oh - and there was the other thing. The not so occasional part of your routine where Jason fucked your brains out. The fact that the two of you had developed a mutually beneficial relationship to help ‘relieve’ each other when you were horny, a quintessential friends with benefits situation. But with your muscles sore from training and your entire body so exhausted, that was the farthest thing from your mind on this night. 

After a long, hard day of training, the last thing you wanted to hear was a knock on your bedroom door. You hoped that it was simply Gar asking to borrow some of your body wash again (because he liked the smell), or Rachel asking you to kill a spider in her room, and not Dick alerting you to some surprise training drill that he had suddenly thought up. 

You shoved your pajama top over your head, finishing getting changed for the night, and rushed across the room to the door. When you opened it, you barely had time to gauge if you were pleased or displeased at seeing Jason before he spoke. 

“I’m horny.” He announced abruptly, being very abrupt about delivering his feelings. 

But it was in character for him, and didn’t surprise you in the least. 

You hated that your stomach jolted at his words, even if just out of Pavlovian habit. It had been only two days since the last time he had fucked you. He had caught you in the shower in the morning, snuck into the bathroom with a condom between his teeth and opened the shower door to join you while you were distracted meditatively washing your hair. It had been steamy, soapy, slippery, and goddamn wonderful. 

But it had left you sore and stiff before training, and you were wondering how much give and take there was - if you truly needed his cock. 

“Hello to you too.” You said, your tone just as dead tired as you felt. 

You wouldn’t admit that you were a bit horny too. You were tired, and you wanted to go to sleep. So that made you annoyed with his presence. (It should have made you more annoyed than you were.) 

Jason bit his lip, raking his eyes up and down your body with an intense heat lurking there. You glared back at him. 

Jason was intensely attractive. He was a good looking guy, that was just a fact. And while you did enjoy the way he was looking at you, staring you down like you were a porn star when you were slumped with exhaustion, wearing baggy old pjs with mascara smeared on your face with sweat, your hair a mess from the day - there was barely a spark stirred in your stomach at the idea of fucking him right now. You were just too damn tired. Dick had been running you all into the ground, instituting the same training that Batman had given him, and it was fucking exhausting. 

“So - can I come in?” Jason asked. 

He gave you a very expectant curl of his lips and tilted his head toward you when you didn’t say anything for a few seconds. You just stood there and stared at him bitterly. 

You sighed hard through your nose, not wanting to answer the question. 

Fucking him might be nice. A good orgasm before bed. But you needed to put what little energy you had left into your nightly routine and then get a good, long sleep before Dick woke everyone up at ass o’clock again. 

“No.” You finally told him. “I’m going to bed.” 

You turned and walked back into your room, but left the door open. You hoped that he would get the hint to leave on his own. You grabbed your bottle of makeup remover and a cotton pad and began taking off your makeup. 

You weren’t so lucky. 

“I’ll go to bed with you, babe.” He announced proudly. You could practically hear the smirk in his voice. 

He then came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist from behind. You felt the half hardness of his cock pressing into your ass as you wiped away your makeup with stern hands. You tried your hardest not to let him wear you down, even as you felt a tingle between your thighs. He was used to training this hard, so it wasn’t as exhausting for him. Clearly, he didn’t understand how tired you were - how badly you needed the rest. 

“Go get in your own bed.” You barked, your tone becoming more strained. 

As you leaned closer to the mirror to inspect your face, to make sure that you had gotten all the tiny specs of makeup off, you unintentionally arched your back, pushing your ass much closer to his crotch. Jason let out a quiet moan and you caught him smirking at you in the reflection of the mirror. 

He leaned in close, draping his warm body entirely over your back, trapping you there as he put one hand on the dresser and the other on the wall and leaned his body weight on you. You could have shoved him off you if you wanted to - but as you felt a tingling heat creeping up your back, you weren’t entirely sure if you wanted to. 

“Come on, babe.” He sighed into your neck. 

His hot breath on such a sensitive place caused a shiver through you that you would deny. 

“Why are you being like this? You know if you want a good sleep, getting fucked nice and hard is the best way to get it.” He told you, so entirely cocky. “My cock will put you right to bed, baby.” 

The words sent a hard jolt of electricity through you, settling a hard heat through you from your gut all the way to your face, burning uncomfortably through your skin. Combined with the way he ground his increasing hardness against your ass, you were forced to suppress a whimper. 

It made you even more annoyed with him - the fact he could play your body like an instrument he had finely tuned. And you reacted with that intense annoyance. 

“Why can’t you just masturbate like a normal person?” You scoffed at him, entirely firm, not giving away an ounce of weakness in your voice. 

“As if.” He held intense disgust in his voice at the very idea. 

He gave another firm dig of his hips, causing you to be pressed into the sharp edge of the dresser - a small twinge of pain that only added to the heat growing in your stomach. 

“Why the fuck would I resort to touching myself when I have the sweetest pussy ever to fuck right down the hall?” Jason explained. “But ya know, if you want to watch me jack off, that can be arranged.” 

Instead of responding to that, you just rolled your eyes. You hoped that he wouldn’t notice that subtle shift of lust in your features that said this was definitely a new fantasy of yours because he had brought it up. 

“You can’t deny that you need it too.” Jason whispered into your ear. 

“I need sleep.” You grunted in return. 

You then shucked out of his hold, using one of the evasive maneuvers that Dick had taught you in training, ducking under Jason’s arm when he wasn’t expecting it. Before he could blink, you were across the hall and in the bathroom. It was mostly because you knew that if you stood there any longer with his warm body pressed against your back, you would have given in far too easily. 

Naturally, Jason followed you. 

He stuck by your side through your entire night time routine, trying to wear you down. You weighed the pros and cons in your head without truly listening to him as the exhaustion seeped into your bones and battled with the lust growing inside of you. 

Jason brushed his teeth standing next to you in front of the sink while you brushed yours, all the while mumbling excuses through his toothpaste about how the sex would be good aerobic exercise to help with your training. By the time you got to doing your skincare, you ended up putting a face wash and moisturizer on him just to mentally drown out whatever he was saying - something about orgasms and endorphins and how it helps mental health. 

As you pulled back the covers to finally settle in, he snuck his way into your bed under the guise of ‘just cuddling’. Though you weren’t anywhere near convinced of that sentiment, you didn’t kick him out of the room or protect. You were surprised, but grateful when he took off his shirt, laid down, and seemed to finally shut up. You weren’t sure which you were more grateful for - the quiet or the stunning eye candy of his tight body on full display. But you didn’t question the fact that he had finally stopped nagging you. 

You crawled into bed beside him and settled into his arms. You gave him a kiss on the cheek as a goodnight (knowing that if you kissed him on the mouth, it would turn into something more heated). It was only about two minutes after you shut off your bedside lamp, shrouding the room in darkness, that the talking began again. 

“You could sleep through it.” He noted quietly. 

You sighed with deep annoyance. 

“If you want to. I could be gentle about it.” 

His voice continued on from behind you as he spooned you, one arm under your head underneath the pillow and the other laid almost possessively around your waist. 

Of course, he didn’t even have to be too descriptive for you to know what ‘it’ was. 

The idea of him gently fucking you while you fell into a lazy sleep was entirely too appealing. But he didn’t need to know that. He didn’t need to win. Especially not after you had put so much of your very little remaining energy into deterring him all night. 

“Go to sleep.” You told him with a huff, shoving your head further into the pillow. 

He simply chuckled. 

You hoped that if you just ignored him, he would shut up and go to sleep. 

You would never admit to him that heat bloomed in your stomach at the idea of Jason crawling into your bed when you were already in a deep sleep, using you for his own selfish pleasure and leaving you sore and full of cum to wake up to in the morning. 

“Hmm… no.” He replied, as easily as a petulant child, his breath fanning out over your neck once again. 

Your heated thoughts easily blossomed into a moan from your lips when he latched onto your neck without warning. He picked a particularly tender spot, sucking hard with teeth and the fullness of his lips, easily knocking the wind out of you. You shoved your heated face tightly into your pillow, praying that he wouldn’t notice your reaction. That he wouldn’t realize he so blatantly had you like putty in his hands. If he knew that, he would know that he could just take whatever he wanted and you wouldn’t protest. Not in the slightest. 

Jason already knew that. But he wasn’t just going to pull down your shorts and slam his cock into you. As much fun as that would be - he wasn’t barbaric. Plus - now that he had one of your sweet little sounds in his ears, he wanted more. He wanted to hear you beg for it after denying him for so long. 

He moved his arm from being so tightly around your waist, and pushed your shirt up. You tried your best to put up a wall of indifference toward this. He began skimming his touch oh so lightly along the roundness of your stomach, right above the band of your shorts. You knew he felt the shiver that ran through you, but you refused to say anything. You weren’t pretending to be asleep at this point, but it was a game to the two of you. You still refused to give in. 

But he was playing to win. 

He shoved his hand into the waistband of your shorts, touching you outside the fabric of your underwear. His skin felt like he could have burned you, even through the fabric. You had to make a conscious effort not to buck forward into the touch. When his fingers skimmed across your hotly beating clit (when had you gotten so turned on?) you swallowed another whimper and steadied your voice. 

“Jason.” You said his name firmly, like a warning bell. “If you don’t behave yourself, I’m gonna kick you out.” 

“I don’t think you will.” He whispered into your neck, defiantly cocky once again. 

He sucked another hard, hot mark onto your skin as he cupped your pussy whole in his palm and began grinding the heel of his hand against your clit. 

You let out a wobbling moan and your body thrashed, your energy so depleted that you could no longer hold back your body’s natural reactions to him. You were met with the hard wall of his body behind you, so firm and perfectly hot as he pressed himself tighter into you. 

He gave a satisfied grin into your skin and only doubled down, putting more pressure on your throbbing clit and causing hot waves from that point, adding to the rolling boil that raged under your skin. 

With the beautifully firm pressure and Jason’s talent, the way he knew your body so well, you could have come from this alone. Especially as the pleasure throbbed through your core, your underwear became more soaked through and it was all so beautifully smooth and wet. 

Jason began grinding his cock - still trapped inside a pair of sweats - against the back of your thigh. He groaned into your neck when he felt a pleasurable tingling of his own spreading through his gut, though he craved to be inside of you. As much as he was enjoying this - the sweet, needy sounds falling from your lips, the way your thighs clamped around his wrist, as though desperately trying to keep him in place while your hips humped against his hand like a bitch in heat - he knew that he needed more. 

And he was going to make you beg for it. 

When he felt the signature twitch of your legs that said you were about to cum, he stopped. He held his hand completely still, his strong arm easily pinning your hips down to the bed to prevent you from humping against him and simply taking what you needed. In that moment, he even curled two of his fingers up to shove the fabric of your underwear inside of you slightly, creating a sharp sting that reminded you just how empty you were feeling. 

“Jay-!” You let out his name in a petulant whine, about to scold him for the ruined orgasm, but he cut you off. 

“You gonna ask me nicely now?” He rumbled into your ear. “Admit you were wrong?” 

You wanted to bark out ‘either make me cum, or go to your own damn bed’ - but you knew that Jason was just as petty as you were. At that point, he would have gotten up and left for his own bed just to prove a point. 

“You’re keeping me awake right now.” You huffed out, trying your best to sound annoyed. (Which wasn’t too difficult, considering how badly the ruined orgasm had frustrated you.) “My point still stands.” 

Of course, sleeping was the farthest thing from your mind now. The sexual frustration had injected a new wave of energy through you, and you knew that you wouldn’t be able to rest until you were truly satisfied. 

Unfortunately, Jason knew that too. 

“Okay.” Jason sighed quietly, giving a click of his tongue. 

He then completely pulled his hand out of your shorts and pulled away from your body. It seemed like he was moving to get out of the bed - you worried you had accidentally triggered that signature pettiness in him. 

But as usual, Jason Todd surprised you. 

You bit your lip to hold back a cheer when he reached for the waistband of your shorts and underwear pulled them down all at once, exposing your hot, soaked cunt to the cool air of the room. (At some point, the blanket had been accidentally shoved off you.) You took a glance over your shoulder and of course, he was shoving his pants down to his knees. You caught a glimpse of his long, thick, hard cock bobbing out of the fabric in the darkness. But you didn’t dare to spend too much time admiring it, for fear of making him too cocky. 

You relaxed against your pillow in satisfaction, waiting for Jason to grab a condom out of the bedside table’s drawer so that he could literally fuck you to sleep. 

You were surprised when he scooted back toward you, pressing himself right up against your back once more. He proceeded to simply press his hips against yours - his cock laid flat against the bare folds of your leaking pussy, immediately becoming slick with your wetness. But be made no moves to grab a condom or even tease you by pushing inside of you raw. 

(Which - yes, the two of you had agreed to always use condoms, but it was secretly a fantasy of yours that he would go against the rule because of his overbearing need to feel you raw - or even the need to cum inside of you). 

But instead of doing any of that, Jason seemed to be settling in to relax. 

Jason draped himself across your back, wrapped his arm around your waist again, and gently laid his head on your shoulder. But he made no effort to move, or fuck you. Your pussy throbbed with need, feeling the hot, hard length pressed against you, entirely unmoving. When you clenched around nothing, you let out a wave of slick that you knew he could feel right on his cock. You felt a groan catch inside his chest, but still, he didn’t move. 

“Jason.” You breathed out, having to question him after a few more moments of silence and stillness. “What are you doing?” 

“Going to sleep.” He answered, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. “I thought you wanted me to just shut up and leave you alone so that you could get some rest?” 

That. Little. Shit.

You resisted the urge to elbow him in the face. 

Obviously, being so close to you, he felt your entire body tense up with anger and annoyance. He was only able to partially hold back his satisfactory laughter. When the quiet snickers met your ears, you became even more annoyed. 

“Jason.” You scolded him gruffly. 

“Oh? I’m sorry,” He said, entirely sarcastic. “Did you want something?” 

“Did you want something?” You parroted back, mocking his words in a childish voice. 

Essentially, you had no more clever comebacks left. He had won. 

“I guess I can give you something for your troubles, babe.” Jason sighed, as though it were a grand inconvenience to him. “Maybe just the tip, though.” 

“Just the tip.” You sighed, finding yourself repeating his words once again. Though this time your voice was dead and sarcastic rather than mocking - mostly because you didn’t believe him. 

You knew that in Jason land, ‘just the tip’ meant slamming his entire cock into you after the tip lingered in your entrance for a moment. You clenched down on nothing again at the thought. 

Once again, you were expecting him to grab a condom so he could fuck you freely without worry. You were surprised when he peeled his body away from you slightly and reached down to grab his cock. After a moment of rubbing the fat cockhead along your folds to get it nice and wet, he did as promised and pushed the tip inside. 

It was the first time he had ever been inside of you without the barrier of a condom, and feeling his hot, raw skin touching yours - even just a little bit, made you gasp. 

“Jason!” 

Your voice was whiny even to your own ears, so needy for him after so much teasing. Upon instinct, feeling that painfully empty ache coming from deep inside you, you arched your back and attempted to shove your hips toward him - attempted to pull more of his thickness inside of you. But Jason was quicker, and he had his hands on both your hips, shoving you down onto the bed so hard and fast that the tip of his cock fell out of you with a wet pop. 

It was a sound that made heat beat through your cheeks, and the feeling of his wet cockhead brushing against the backs of your thighs took your breath away. 

“Oops.” He chuckled, and moved to slot himself back into position.

You had no clue why it was so dizzyingly hot. 

But this time he held you down firmly so you couldn’t simply fuck yourself back onto his cock. You moaned as the thickness of the cockhead popped back inside of you - you yearned for more, but he stayed still. 

After a moment, he began to move his hips so slightly, feeding no more than an inch of his cock into your throbbing cunt before pulling it back out. It was an entirely careful movement on his part where he fed you the first inch, and didn’t let the tip pop out again, in pathetically shallow thrusts that could barely be called sex. Your pussy ached, tingled, yearned for more. 

You mentally cursed Batman for teaching him such good self discipline and him using it for this.

“Jason.” You whined, trying fruitlessly to fight against the firm grip he had on your hips in order to fuck yourself on his cock. 

“What, babe?” He chuckled, leaning down to kiss a line across your shoulder. 

“You know what.” You replied, your tone even more frustrated and whiny. 

You wiggled your hips desperately, trying to get more of him inside of you. You yearned to feel the perfect ache of his thick cock splitting you open, hitting all of those perfect spots so deep inside of you. 

“No, I don’t.” He told you, his voice somehow steady and confident. “You’re gonna have to spell it out for me.” 

You couldn’t see it or feel it, but his hips were trembling and his abs were tight with the pure resistance of his self control. All of the energy he was using not to slam his cock into the tight, warm velvet of your cunt, especially as he felt it leak so freely around the tip of his cock, knowing how badly you needed him. He wanted nothing more than to watch you whine and babble and fall apart on his cock - but he wanted to win just a little bit more. 

There was a distinct pause. The last shreds of your own stubbornness hanging in the air, even as your cunt throbbed with need. 

Even if Jason couldn’t see your face from this angle, he could feel the warring in your body. He knew you too well. And he knew how to break you down so perfectly. 

“If you want anything more than this,” He told you, emphasizing the point with another pathetically shallow thrust. “If you want anything more than just the tip of my cock,” His voice was low and silken and creating even more heat that almost drowned you. “Then you’re gonna have to beg for it.” 

“Fuck you, Jay.” You whined out in protest, once again trying to fight his grip on your hips to fuck yourself against him. 

He viciously dug his fingers into the fat of your hips, causing a sharp sound from your throat at the beautiful pain. 

He leaned down and pressed his lips to the back of your neck, and growled out his next words in a low tone that dragged through your insides in the exact spot where his cock should have been. 

“Come on.” He urged you on. “Fucking. Beg.” 

That was when you broke. 

At least you hadn’t given in too easily. 

“Please,” You whined out breathlessly. “Please, fuck me! Fuck me, Jason! I need it.” 

“What else?” Jason asked expectantly. 

You could have killed him. But when your desperate cunt unconsciously clenched down on the fat head of his cock and you felt yourself growing only more hot and needy, you knew that there was only one thing to do. 

“I’m sorry, Jay, I should have - I should have just asked nicely in the first place. I do need it. I need your big cock inside of me so badly.” You poured it on thick, emphasizing the last words in the most pornographic voice you could muster, hoping that he was running low on self control as well. 

And he was. So he was very satisfied with this. He grinned into your skin, leaving a surprisingly tender kiss on the back of your neck before he mumbled out ‘good girl’ - something that made you moan out sharply. 

You let out a sharp noise of disappointment when his cock popped out of you again. 

“I need a condom.” He told you, giving you a reassuring pat on the ass. “As much as I’d love to cum inside you, we do have an agreement.” 

You weren’t sure which was hotter - his sex-thick voice admitting that he shared one of your deepest fantasies, or the fact that he was caring so deeply for you, making sure that he protected you with a condom even when you were in that floating headspace and willing to let him do just about anything do your body. 

Your mind was swimming contemplating it, and next thing you knew it, he had the condom on successfully. He then slammed his cock inside of you in one firm, smooth movement. Any thoughts were easily pounded out of your head by the practiced movement of his hips.

“Better now?” Jason grunted into your ear. 

You could practically feel his smugness radiating through his cock, spearing into you. 

But you were now alight with intense pleasure, warm satisfaction rolling through you - so you couldn’t bring yourself to truly care about how smug he was. Every bit of cockiness he had, he did back it up with a pretty big dick that he knew how to use well. Not that you would ever say those words aloud to him. Not even on your deathbed. 

“Just shut up and fuck me.” You ordered, though it was breathless and had no bite. 

“As you wish, babe.” He replied, and then doubled down - his hips fucking into you with an intense fury. 

You moaned like a whore at this, finally feeling that dizzying fullness that you had been craving since he had snuck his touch into your shorts. Jason drank up your sounds and easily wanted more - more of your perfect pussy squeezing around his cock, more of that wetness coating his inner thighs, more of that filthy wet smacking as he fucked into you. 

He leaned down, draping his body fully over yours once again, creating a pleasantly smothering weight on top of you as you laid on your stomach on the bed with your face nearly drowned in the pillow. He slowed the pace of his hips to a dangerous torture of a grind, fucking you so deeply now that you were sure you could feel him coming up inside of your throat. You let out a wounded noise, and he hushed you gently. 

“Shh, babe, I’ve got you.” He whispered into your ear. “Gonna make you feel so good.” 

He moved one of his hands from your hip and shoved it between your body and the bed, and once again he was cupping your mound fully in his hand - but this time there was no fabric barrier, and he was settled deep inside of you. It was filling your whole body with lava, turning every place he touched you to boiling ash. You were sure that you would have dissolved into nothingness if not for the anchor of your cunt hanging onto his cock, keeping you grounded in reality with that slight nip of pain as your muscles clenched onto him. 

“Now say thank you.” He told you, his voice so gruff in your ear, so thick with desire that it made you dizzy. “Thank me for giving you my cock.” 

He used two precise fingers to rub circles on your neglected clit, immediately sending shockwaves through your body that made your muscles jump and jolt. 

You gulped for air and struggled to move your face out of the fabric of the pillow, and Jason saw this. He moved his other hand and slid it under your cheek, gripping under your jaw to fully lift you up. 

He stilled his hips completely once again, causing a pained sound to emanate from your lungs as you clamped down on his cock deep inside of you while he continued to relentlessly work over your tender clit. He gave you a couple of seconds to catch your breath. But you were so cock dumb that you had to be reminded of the goal. 

“Come on, baby.” He encouraged you, pressing his lips to your cheek that he wasn’t holding onto. “Say ‘thank you’.” 

“Thank you.” You easily repeated back, now completely pliant to his desires. “Thank you for-for your cock.” 

“Good girl.” Jason praised you once again. 

Then he began fucking into you once more - it only took a few careful thrusts of his hips and the talent of his fingers on your clit to finally bring your orgasm to life. He shoved his tongue into your mouth as you screamed through it, imitating some sloppy version of a kiss while you flailed and creamed on his cock, your body becoming truly boneless and tired as the orgasm rocked you. 

When it was finished, he was still throbbing hard inside of you, and you let out a whine of disappointment. You were absolutely dead tired now, and you couldn’t even think of how much energy it would take to finish him off. Mister ‘Twice In A Sunday’ could last quite a long time, and that didn’t exactly work for you in that moment. 

“You can go to sleep now, babe.” He whispered into your ear. “I’ll clean you up when I’m done.” 

He began thrusting into you once more, and you couldn’t help but let your eyes drift closed. 

It ended up being a good night for both of you.

...

If you enjoyed this fic, check out my DC Titans Masterlist for more of my other fics!! And please consider reblogging and commenting on this fic to tell me what you liked about it.

[studentbyday]

a september packed with purpose 🏵️ (goals for the 2024-2025 academic year)

an attempt to live a meaningful life even if it's really busy.

🎓 academic goals:

stay on top of my schoolwork. not feeling like i'm running after deadlines but staying organized, calm, and methodical, even if there's a lot.

change up my study strats! turn text into diagrams! shorter focus periods followed by an active break to ease myself into the semester!

study 8h per day or less if at all possible (for official schoolwork)

👩🏻‍🔬 career goals:

finish databases courses to increase my career capital (i sped read so good they can't ignore you this summer and it was both inspiring and practical - grateful for the feeling of having a roadmap...even if it's vague.)

do everything to become so good the lab i'm interested in joining can't ignore me (i have pretty much no current affiliation with them or their university so this is gonna be an uphill climb unless maybe i seem like a perfect fit...)

🌳 lifestyle and adulting goals:

develop a can-do attitude and work on my growth mindset

continue to practice driving at least 3x per week before it snows

become a 6AM girlie (or an 8PM girlie, if you're looking at the sleeping time lol) so i have a few hours of calm, focused silence in the morning which will minimize the amount of time i need to spend studying after dinner (planning to take advantage of the jet lag and the fact that the sun sets earlier in winter, making me sleepy sooner 😠)

re-gain some level of fitness to counter my couch potato summer habits and all the sitting i'll be doing this semester

🤸🏻‍♀️ more fun goals:

apply to volunteer with my local horticultural society and hopefully start volunteering soon (hoping to work on their newsletter as that's something i miss from my high school days! something familiar will also be good for easing into my "reintegration into society" era as a previously "studying hermit". perhaps once i get so comfortable i feel like i'm plateauing, i can branch into being a volunteer gardener! i have absolutely zero successful experience with plants, so it would be really nice to have some guidance from people who've made and maintained such pretty gardens in my community 💗)

make time for piano (ideally at least 1h 3-4 days of the week, but i will be happy if i even get to touch the keys for less than 1h of practice 3-4 days a week. if i can do this, then i can more reasonably justify getting a real acoustic piano at home and maybe even take lessons again when things get less busy...and i don't have to fear not making progress or even getting worse on the digital in the meantime because my fingers and brain get re-accustomed to the acoustic feel and sound options surprisingly, happily quickly even if i only get to play on one for a few days of a year, which is already quite a privilege 🥺🙏🏻 in the meantime, i need to maintain/improve my dexterity, sight-reading skills, and theory knowledge. i don't plan to read the theory book front to back anymore, i'll just read the bits i'm most interested in and maybe eventually that will mean covering the whole book but i won't start with that intention in mind 🤷🏻‍♀️)

sOmEhOw have the energy to comprehend even 1 duolingo lesson in japanese ~daily if only to one day get to a level where i can read more japanese books (and maybe even watch some animé without subs? no pressure tho since i'm very picky about animé 😂)

💭 nice to have but not pressing:

make it a habit to read a nerdy book or academic article that isn't directly for schoolwork to help me find my research interests, learn more about labs in my physical area, and/or re-ignite my passion for/sense of wonder with STEM and STEM-related issues 🔥

each week read something from suggested/recommended course reading lists if there are any

each month read a book completely unrelated to academics, something that distracts me or that feeds my soul or both (or if i can't do that, then just 1 such book each semester, i'm just after something rather than nothing)

🐝 productivity advice from one of my role models that i want to follow religiously this semester:

prioritize rest in order to think and act fast (10 hours of sleep! downtime! meditating! gentle exercise!)

schedule down to the minute but understand that as long as you're doing what you planned to do within the hour you planned to do it, you're good (that is assuming life doesn't happen and derail the entire day's plans but most days thankfully are not like that). give yourself lots of buffer (bigger, not smaller blocks of time in the calendar!).

understand that prioritizing means that you may fall behind in the unprioritized areas from time to time and have to catch up and that's completely expected and completely fine.

be selective about what you're "perfectionistic" with (it's not really about applying perfectionism, more like being picky about where you apply extreme conscientiousness). that is also part of prioritizing.

✏️ post schedule: 1-3x a week depending on time, energy, and what that means for my mental state 😅

[0hmyg0th]

— 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞

abby anderson x reader

★ summary ⸻ abby feels terrible, she don't want you to spend time with her knowing that you thrive on social interactions. She feels like she's holding you captive with her introverted ways. ★ sfw! ⸻ purely fluff! very lovey dovey 😩 including; i love u's, usage of nicknames, mention of marriage 🫣. and anything else i forgot to add. this is for ( @paqerings ) they requested " https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZPRcgu17H/ - this for abby" ★ taglist ⸻@paqerings @vvynia @slut4mascss tag-list is open :) ★ note ⸻i was planning on having this fic out wayyyy sooner but college work took to much of my time. also, after this and a couple more of tlou i will be posting aot content as well!! so stay tuned for that. i hope this doesn't flop ( first time doing anything other nfsw related ) okay bye. now read 💋

⸻ 4:30pm. evening. jacksonville florida. summertime

this is probably the most relaxing evening you ever had in your entire existence. you felt the most safe at home with abby. you had no problem dropping everything to be with abby at home, doing the most mundane things known to mankind. some of your friends would even say you and abby are in yall the "boring couple era" however, the way you would rephrase it would be, "quality time". you didn't mind doing things that might feel boring to others with abby like watching TV, reading together on the couch, or even doing a puzzle on a friday night rather than going out to a club. it didn't matter what. just along you were being touched by her presence. and you know, when the time comes she will be there to cater to your social needs. always.

"I hate it when you make me laugh, even worse when you make- I feel bad 

you were feeling like a gooey pile of mush. it didn't matter how many times you re-watch 10 things i hate about you it seems like that movie had the undertone superpower to make you feel like your heart has been broken into a million pieces - and the craziest thing is that they are fictional characters. astonishing. you were so hypnotized by the movie that abby's words fell deafly onto your ears. with a small touch from abby, you peeled your eyes away from kat and patrick. looking at the sight of your beautiful girlfriend, the small colored freckles scattered all around the bridge of her nose. The best feature you loved was her nose and her watercolor eyes. the way her eyes would create this type of expression was only found in the imitation of the wild ocean water. you adored how blue they were under the shining light and how dark they would become in the shadows. "hm?" you blinked a couple of times, staying still upon her sight. 

the pads of her fingers slowly and lightly stroke the peak of your shoulder. you moved in closer, head tilting in the process. "you okay abs?" you spoke softly. the guilt-ridden expression painted on abby's face, her chest heaved . "I feel bad" Abby's hand immediately went to the back of her neck while lowering her head. "oh baby" you cooed. the palms of your hands reaching the warmth of her cheeks, lifting her face to make her look at you." why? My love" god. if y'all couldn't get any closer. you moved from the soft cushion onto abby's lap. you draped your arm around her neck while your fingers found the shell of her ear; playing with it to soothe her overwhelming nerves. 

"mmcht - I don't know. I feel like you shouldn't be doing this. you should be out - with your friends. I don't want you to be forced to be here just because- 

"imma stop you right there, abs" Your lips drew this amused smile, her warm plumped lips being covered by your hand. her eyes flickered down to your hand and quickly back up to your orbs whilst her eyebrow frowned a bit -- giving the impression she was gonna whimper a bit. however, the hand that played with the ruffles of your satin shorts never stopped. 

"When I first met you I knew we were the total opposite. I knew that I was more extroverted than you are. which is okay. I didn't let your social awkwardness or your introverted ways stop me from dating and loving you" you reassured. your eyes soften, you love abby with all your heart and when you love someone, you love them whole. 

Your hand vibrated against abby's moving lips for a mintue or two. "I agree" you let out a small laugh. you both forgot your hand was taking up space on her face. she removed your hand from her mouth and into her own and as if it was a daily routine between her and you, she intertwined her calloused finger in between yours. "I enjoy my solitude, but ever since I met you I enjoy it even more when you're in it" abby whispered the small confession, god. there are not enough words in the universe to express the amount of love you harbored in your heart for them. 

"I love you. I really do" You were lost for words, you love it when abby expressed these types of thoughts she had for you. abby heart swelled with pride at being your girlfriend because she never met someone capable of understanding her in a way she thought only she would. you are her soulmate. In a quick small vision, abby had imagined you in this most beautiful wedding dress known to man and with your ring finger decorated with the most expensive ring ever. 

you notice abby was deep into thought so you nudged her slightly, "penny for your thoughts?"

"you wanna get marry?" abby spoke nonchalantly. you were taken back, as one would in this situation. Your eyes practically popping out of your sockets. "what?" you exclaimed. 

abby shrugged her shoulders," I mean it" 

you dwelled about it for a minute. me? mrs. anderson. that does sound good. 

the enddd. 💋