#might be first of my big 2 done at this rate

[kookooluvr]

Teach Me How To Love - Part 1

pairing: professor!jungkook x (fem) professor!reader, fwb to lovers

genre: fluff, angst, smut, fwb au, economicsprofessor!jungkook, politicalscienceprofessor!reader, slow burn, some emotional constipation, some sappy moments, lots of sexy moments.

rating: 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT !

warnings: fwb should be warning in itself, jungkook is a simp and a hot nerdy professor (yummm), oc has a tabby cat named miso, bam makes his first appearance, jungkook has a big ol' crush on oc, some unrequited romantic feelings (?) we're not sure yet, explicit sexual content; making out, kook has heart eyes for oc's boobs, five second strip show, like a split second of male masturbation, oral sex (male receiving), a teeny wheeny bit of fingering, oc rides that thang like a cowgirl, unprotected sex (oc is on birth control and they're both clean), plus some angsty vibes at the end :(((

word count: 3.5k

summary: jeon jungkook, a fellow professor at yonsei university, is your friend, co-worker, and secret bed buddy. you have rules set in place to make sure there are no misunderstandings in your little arrangement. the #1 rule is as clear as day; no catching feelings. simple, right? wrong. let's see how un-simple it gets when a certain economics professor falls for an emotionally unavailable political science professor.

author's note: part 1 is out my dudes !!! 😭😭 i hope you enjoy this little introduction to jungkook and oc, and i can't wait to start exploring their dynamic a little more in depth in the next parts!! i'm so excited to go on this journey with you all, so pls make sure to follow me, repost this story, and send me an ask if you want to chat about these cuties 🤪 part 2 coming soon !

find tmhtl masterlist here

It's the end of the day and Jungkook is on his way out, heading home after an exhausting day at the university. He walks down the corridor, his phone in hand, his eyes trained to his phone as he checks his emails.

You step out of your office, shutting the door and straightening your bag on your shoulder. You dig through it for your office keys, locking up once you find them. He looks up from his phone for a second and spots you, a smile tugging at his lips as he pockets his phone and walks over to you.

He leans against the wall next to your door, arms crossed, his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows. “Hey,” he murmurs with a little grin.

“Hey, Kook,” you greet softly, walking away to head home, Jungkook peeling himself off the wall to walk next to you.

“Long day?” he asks with a sympathetic smile.

You love your job, really, you do. But some days are draining and dealing with young adults who don't even know how to reference their sources for an essay or spell parliament properly can actually drive you to drink. “Mm, thank God the day's over,” you chuckle, looking over at him as you walk down the stone walkway together, the sun slowly starting to set on campus.

He chuckles, looking over at you to catch the way the golden hour light casts a pretty yellowish-orange glow over your skin, his eyes quickly diverting down to the ground to stop himself from staring, shoving his hands into the pockets of his pants. “Hey, uhm...if you don't have any plans tonight, do you maybe wanna come over to my place?” he asks, feeling like an awkward teenager with a crush every time he asks you that, even if he's done it ten dozen times by now. He knows why he's inviting you over. You know why he's inviting you over.

“Yeah, sure,” you say casually, heading in the direction of the parking lot to get to your car. You see it in its usual parking spot, right next to his, just like it is every day, like a silent declaration that you're a package deal.

His heart really shouldn't do that weird thump-thump thing that it does every time you agree to come over, but it does, and it might just be heart disease, but he is yet to get it under control. “Cool...cool...Is 7 okay for you?” he asks, taking out his keys as he approaches his car, leaning against the driver's door with a little smile on his lips.

“Yeah, I'll just go home and change out of these clothes and feed Miso then I'll head over,” you murmur absentmindedly while you dig through your bag for your car keys, searching through the endless pit of earphones, a tangled phone charger, lip liner, lip gloss, and ten thousand receipts for things you don't even remember buying. He watches you with a faint smile, knowing how messy that bag is, but also knowing that if he lectures you about it, your response will be, 'you don't get it, you're not a woman' so he minds his business and stands by patiently.

“You can go, I'll manage,” you mumble, your eyebrows furrowed, a soft pout on your lips as you rummage through the leather bag. He chuckles and cocks his head to the side, finding it quite amusing. “You sure? I feel like I could find the cure for cancer before you find your keys in that thing.”

“You should quit teaching and go into comedy,” you mutter dryly, finally finding the damn keys. “Ha. Found it,” you quip, smiling sarcastically before unlocking the car. He shakes his head with a soft smile, rolling his eyes as he gets in his own car. He'll get you back for your sass, but he knows that his 'punishments’ feel more like a reward than anything else.

You go home and feed Miso, the grey tabby lounging around like she's the queen of your apartment, completely unbothered that you're only staying for a little while before eventually leaving again to get dicked down hang out with Jungkook. You put on some comfortable sweats and give her a few kisses and cuddles before heading over to Jungkook's place.

This is a regular thing for you guys. You remain professional at work, well, as professional as two people who are hooking up can be, and then you go over to his place, or vice versa, and sometimes there's wine, sometimes there's dinner, sometimes you go straight to the sexy part, or sometimes there's no sexy part at all because one of you just wants to talk or watch a movie. It works for you. It's easy. It feels good. Really good.

He's a good friend. He's kind, he's a good listener, and he's all those nice, sweet, lovely things. He's also really good in bed, which is always a bonus in a...friend.

Good friends offer to drive you home from the club when you've had one too many to drink. Good friends support you in times of need. Good friends go down on you until your legs shake. That's just how it is.

"Slow down, you're gonna choke," he chuckles, watching you stuff your face with Indian takeout. It's like a competitive sport when the two of you eat dinner, which is one of the things you like most about hanging out with Jungkook. There is no pressure to be perfect. You can act the way you really want to and not feel scrutinized for it. Maybe it's just because his big fat crush has completely tinted the way he sees you, but he'd happily watch you pig out if it means he gets to spend time alone with you.

“I thought you like it when I choke a little bit,” you tease, just wanting to get a reaction out of him, and that's exactly what you get. He nearly chokes on his food, his cheeks flushed, his eyes wide as he looks over at you.

“Jesus Christ, y/n, you can't just say stuff like that,” he coughs, trying to compose himself, roughly clearing his throat to not die via chicken biryani. It’s quite a strange thing how he can go from this to a sex god in bed, not that it's anything for you to complain about.

Jungkook does the dishes after dinner which allows you to enjoy some alone time with Bam. The brown doberman plops down on the couch, practically begging to be cuddled. He’s always been quite fond of you, since Jungkook adopted him three years ago. He’s the sweetest boy. He loves being loved on, much like his father.

Jungkook watches as you give Bam “lovies” as you call it, the dog absolutely basking in the attention.

“I’m starting to think he likes you more than me,” Jungkook jokes with a scoff, smiling as Bam does his ‘sit/lay down’ tricks for you. What a showoff.

“He’s never gotten that comfortable with anyone who isn't me,” he murmurs with a soft smile, watching the two excited puppies in his living room. “He gets really excited when he knows you're coming over.”

“Bam, cut it out. I’m Miso’s mommy, she’s going to get jealous,” you playfully scold him, although the scratches you give him say otherwise. He’s just a doe-eyed, dark-haired, soft-hearted boy. Again, much like his father.

Jungkook finishes drying the dishes and practically shoves Bam out the way to get the same attention from you. He lays down on the couch with his head in your lap and you already know what he wants. You lightly scratch his scalp, watching his eyes flutter shut, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, relishing in the feeling of your fingers in his hair. Sex is great, but there's something about moments like this that just makes him want to get down on his knees and give you whatever you want, whenever you want it.

“I think Bam-ie’s upset,” you chuckle, looking over at him with a soft, apologetic smile, his father looking anything but sorry. He chuckles as he watches Bam quietly stroll back to the bedroom, his eyes fluttering shut once more when you do that thing with your nails that sends shivers down his spine.

“He’ll live,” he scoffs, wincing when you give his hair a firm tug, his lips puffing up into a pout.

You don't really remember how exactly you ended up on his lap with your hands in his hair and his lips peppering your jaw and neck with gentle, tender kisses, but you know that it feels good.

“We’ve been so busy lately, we’ve barely gotten a chance to do this,” he murmurs against your skin, his hands trailing up your thighs to rest at your hips.

You scoff, your eyes fluttering shut as he sucks on that sweet spot behind your ear. It's true. You’ve both been so busy with work that you haven't hung out or had sex in two weeks.

“I know. I’ve been relying on my vibrator.”

He feels a shrill of heat run through him at the thought of you pleasuring yourself, as if he hasn't already seen the actual thing live in-person.

“Yeah? Is he better than me?” he teases with a little grin, pressing soft kisses to your pulse point.

“First of all; she, and I mean…she gets the job done,” you tease, not wanting to outright admit that nothing and no one can make you cum the way he does.

“You couldn't have just said no?” he chuckles, leaning his head back to rest against the back of the couch, his eyes heavy-lidded as he looks up at you. “Maybe I should get myself a toy too…y’know, for when you're too busy,” he teases with a lazy grin.

“What, like a pocket pussy?” you laugh.

“Mm. Something like that.”

“I’d prefer you to be inside me instead of a fake vagina,” you quip, leaning in to press a feather-like kiss to his lips, just testing the waters a bit. “Are you gonna think of me when you use it?” you tease, batting your lashes the way you know makes him go a little weak.

He swallows thickly, nodding like he’s hypnotised. “Of course I’d think of you,” he murmurs, his hips bucking up in a sad attempt to get you to give him some friction. “It wouldn't compare to you though. Nothing compares to you.” His voice is soft and airy, sounding almost pathetic.

You feel a little smile tug at your lips, your resolve slowly slipping. He’s so open about his thoughts and feelings. He’s not afraid to be vulnerable and lay it all out there, even if it is just sex.

His heart does that stupid thump-thump thing again at the sight of your smile, but now really isn't the time to psychoanalyse that, so he pushes that thought away for later.

“Can you take this off for me?” He slips his fingers underneath the soft fabric of your sweatshirt, getting a bit antsy to see more of you.

He’s never really given it too much thought whether he’s an ass or tits typa guy, but when you pull your sweatshirt over your head and his eyes land on that black bra with the little pink bows, the one that you know he likes so much, he swears he’s never seen anything prettier.

“God, I love these.” He leans his head forward to press soft little kisses to the tops of your breasts, his hands trailing up the sides of your ribs. “My pretty girls.”

Your eyes fall shut, the butterflies starting to flutter in the pit of your stomach. Sex with him is so soft and sweet. He says nice things and he makes you feel good, both physically and emotionally, and that makes your anxiety spike just a tad, so you deflect.

“Do you always make conversation with a woman’s tits before you stick it in her or…?”

He chuckles, and it's deep and warm, a little comforting, like if hot cocoa had a voice.

“Take this off. Wanna see them,” he murmurs softly, lightly tugging at the strap of your bra to let it snap back against your skin.

You roll your eyes, but the faint smile on your lips tells him that you're more than happy to oblige. You reach back to unclasp it, letting the material fall from your body, his eyes growing a shade darker at your exposed skin.

He swirls his tongue around a nipple and sucks before repeating the same thing on the other side, giving both breasts the attention they deserve. His eyes flutter shut like he wants to savour every little moment with you.

You reluctantly get up off his lap, and before he can protest, you're discarding the rest of your clothing, sliding your sweatpants down your legs. He makes quick work of following your lead by removing his shirt and pants, his boxers following quickly behind.

You make a little show of removing your panties, and you would normally be embarrassed by the amount of moisture that has already accumulated inside the flimsy material, but right now, all you can focus on is his hand giving his cock a few lazy strokes while he watches you undress for him.

“C’mere.” He spreads his legs a bit, his cock already almost fully hard, the tip slowly turning a light shade of pink. You'd never thought of a cock as 'pretty' before, but damn, it's pretty.

You do as he says without a single protest or complaint, your pussy practically throbbing at the sight of him. Oh, how wonderful it is to be his friend.

You get down on your knees in front of him, his eyelids hanging low as he looks down at you, his hand pumping his cock.

You pride yourself in being good at oral sex, but it's never been something you particularly love doing. That is, until you started hooking up with Jungkook. Sometimes he’ll just be doing something as simple as watching a show on tv, and you’ll be on your knees with your hair up and his cock hitting the back of your throat. It's everything, from the sounds he makes, to the way his eyebrows furrow and his lips part in ecstasy, that makes it so enjoyable.

You take over for him, giving his cock a few strokes before swirling your tongue around the head, pulling a deep groan from the back of his throat. You start sucking, working your way down his length, occasionally looking up to see that look on his face that makes your pussy clench. He rests his hand at the back of your head, not applying pressure, just wanting to feel more of you as you bob your head up and down a few times.

You give the tip some attention, then go all the way down to the base so that your nose just lightly brushes against his pelvis, then back up again, keeping a nice rhythm. His groans, paired with the way his stomach tenses every time you take him down to the base, is almost enough to make you cum right then and there.

“Fuck…baby, stop, please. Don't wanna cum too early,” he murmurs hoarsely, reaching for you to get up and straddle his lap. Your hips slide back and forth, your slick coating him, his dick glistening under the low light of the living room lamp.

“Already? Jesus, Jungkook, have some self-respect.” You can't help but tease him a bit, even in a moment like this, where you're in no position to be making fun of his desperation when you’re as wet as you are.

He scoffs, his hand disappearing between your legs, his middle and ring finger rubbing slow circles over your clit before sliding back to sink into your sopping entrance, shutting you right up.

“What? Cat got your tongue?” he teases with a lazy little grin, his fingers slowly pumping in and out, your wetness allowing him to move them without any resistance.

“Don't speak about my daughter at a time like this.”

His laughter gets cut off by your lips crashing into his, his fingers slipping out of you as you lift your hips to align the tip of his cock with your entrance.

“Want me to sit on it?”

“Yeah.” His voice is breathless as the anticipation slowly builds in his gut. No matter how many times you have sex, he’ll never get tired of that rush of adrenaline that flows through him in that moment right before he slides in.

“Ask nicely.”

“Y/n, come on,” he laughs half-heartedly, tilting his head back against the couch, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hips.

“Ask me nicely and I’ll sit down, Kook,” you whisper, leaning in so that your lips just barely graze against his.

“Please…please, baby. Ride me, please.”

The groan he lets out as you slowly sink down on his cock is enough to send shivers down your spine. It's thick and long, but it's not too big for it to hurt. It fits perfectly, nice and snug like a glove.

“Fuck, you feel good,” he mutters hoarsely, his hands gripping you harder as you begin to roll your hips in that fluid motion that makes him go a little crazy.

It feels like an honour that he gets to see you like this, naked on top of him, riding him deep and slow on his couch after a long day at work. He doesn't know what he ever did in his lifetime to deserve to be balls deep inside you on a Friday night, but he knows that he’s a lucky bastard.

“Just like that. Fuck, you're so tight,” he groans, looking down to watch the way your pussy sucks him in, like something out of a wet dream.

You set a nice pace, riding him just the way he likes it. You reach down to rub circles over your clit, your walls clenching around his cock, pulling soft moans and whimpers from his lips.

“Keep going,” he mutters, his voice trembling. “Fuck, you're gonna make me cum, baby…”

You ride a bit faster, applying more pressure to your clit as you chase your own high. He fights to keep his eyes open, desperately needing to watch you as the pleasure takes over.

“Fuck, Jungkook!” The pleasure creeps up on you and you cum with a breathless moan, your walls fluttering around his length, throbbing and pulsating.

“Gonna…holy shit…gonna cum, baby, don't stop…”

You use the last of your energy to bring him to his peak, moving your hips until his cock twitches and his muscles tense beneath you. He cums with a guttural groan, his fingers digging into your flesh so hard that it might bruise tomorrow.

You continue to grind down on him to help him ride it out. You gently run your fingers through his damp hair, his skin slightly dewy, his eyes squeezed shut. He trembles as the aftershocks flow through him, his breathing coming out a bit uneven.

He wraps his arms around you, holding you close to his chest, looking like he just died and came back to life. He lifts his head to press a soft kiss to your lips, but you pull away before he can deepen it.

“Come on, let go. I gotta go clean up.”

You very rarely allow him to cuddle you after sex. It feels too intimate, too romantic. You don't allow yourself to be romantic with Jungkook. He's not your boyfriend and you like it that way.

He lets out a small hum of disagreement as you lift yourself up, his hands moving to hold your waist.

"Stay here for a little longer," he mumbles softly, his voice drowsy. He looks at you with big doe eyes, trying to persuade you to stay. “Just a few more minutes.”

“You're starting to soften inside me and I have to shower, Kook. You know I hate feeling sticky.”

He reluctantly lets you go, groaning softly as you get up off his lap. "Fine, fine," he grumbles, his eyes following you as you walk over to the bathroom.

You walk off to his bathroom and close the door, locking it behind you. Locking the door is something so simple but it means so much. It means, 'You're not my boyfriend so we can't share that level of intimacy. You can fuck my brains out, but you can't wash my hair in the shower or sit on the toilet while I do my skincare'. It's too coupley.

Jungkook slowly puts his boxers back on, staring at the bathroom door. He knows he’s not your boyfriend. He knows he probably never will be. He knows all your boundaries and your rules and your reasons for having them, but that doesn't make it sting any less. He can't help but wonder what it would feel like if you actually allowed him to love you, but he knows he’s just being foolish and hopeful. He knows that by physically locking that door, you're locking him out of ever getting closer to you emotionally.

[msunitedstatesjames]

Rating Veilguard companions based on their living spaces:

I'm coming up on the last handful of missions in Veilguard, and I noticed that I hadn't really spent all that much time looking around the rooms of the companions. I pretty much burst in and out, only staying long enough to hear whatever they have to say. So I decided to do a more in depth look. (There will be some moderate spoilers ahead if you haven't worked your way through most of Emmrich's companion quests.)

7. Lucanis

Okay, we've all heard the reasoning behind Lucanis's room of choice, but this "room" is still sad. As awesome as access to the kitchens is, this is just a straight up trauma room. That's without even mentioning the perilous number of candles near the bed of such a haunted (literally) man. But, at least he has somewhere to sleep, unlike some others, and he has plenty of supplies of citrus fruit, so scurvy won't be an issue.

6. Emmrich

I hate to rank this one so low. Not only is Emmrich my romance of choice, but I'm a huge book lover in real life, and I love this aesthetic. But this man doesn't have anywhere to sleep! He's in his 50s and has nowhere to sleep! Much has been said about where he might be sleeping every night. Does he sleep on the corpse slab? Does he sleep in the big red chair? Does he curl up in front of the fire like a hound? If he was 19 maybe those options would be feasible. But I'm in my early thirties in real life, and the idea of spending a night on a hard floor/slab is already unbearable to imagine, and sitting upright all night is only done if I'm so ill I can't do otherwise. No bed is just unforgiveable. Also, he's stuck with the skull and spirit of his former friend/rival seemingly listening in on everything and critiquing him constantly. Imagine just minding your own business and having a skull call you "moldering" while implying you're too old to be with your partner of choice. On the other hand, I envy the shelf space, the spiral staircase, and the gorgeous balcony view.

5. Taash

Maybe Taash likes having a gloomy room, I don't know. But sometimes this room looks like a straight up dungeon. Also, though there is some good functionality for training and such, the room lacks daily functionality due to the sheer amount of stuff everywhere. I get that Taash is a Lord of Fortune and treasure hunting is like their whole thing, but like, does Taash really need multiple huge stacks of silver bars and random sheaths of fabric here in their temporary Fade bedroom? What's the point of having so many tables if none of them have any more room to set things on when you actually need to? Some of these rugs are fantastic though. And Taash is one of only two companions with a real bed, so that counts for a lot.

4. Bellara

This is more workshop than bedroom, which I guess suits Bellara well enough. But there's a couple of issues here. First, there's some pretty spiky tools a little close to her cot. God forbid she has a nightmare and jerks upright out of a deep sleep, she'd get slightly impaled. Also, imagine trying to sleep with the smug face of the Archive looking out at you all the time. And don't forget the room is just full to bursting with mirrors. That seems like a confusing, hazardous, headache inducing horror. There is some cool elven decor though.

3. Neve

Neve has a pretty tiny space compared to some of the others, but I guess it's fitting for a noir style detective. She does have a bed, though it's only a less than stellar cot. She also has a bunch of wisps stealing her stuff all the time. But she has a beautiful view, more privacy than some of the others, and a nice desk, which is essential to a detective. And in the end this room is kind of gorgeous.

2. Harding

This whole place is fabulous. The plants are amazing. The magic butterflies are enchanting. The giant ceiling flower is beautiful. Harding doesn't have a real bed, but she has a canopy and a bedroll, which she's probably pretty comfortable in by now after 10+ years of being a scout. I also like that this room grows and transforms over the course of the story. Personally, I think this is the most aesthetically pleasing of the rooms, and I imagine there's some crickets in there to give you that peaceful summer evening soundtrack.

1.Davrin

Davrin's biggest advantage is the simple fact that he has a private sleeping area with a real bed. No one else has both of those things. On top of that, it's a functional space for he and Assan. It's open and has a nice perch for easy Assan access. It has shelf space for his carvings. He has lots of cool knick knacks. He has lots of natural light and a great view. But after looking more closely at his space I almost dropped him down a spot for one reason. NUGS. Did I miss a dialogue line about his love for nugs? Because there's A LOT of nug memorabilia in this place. There's a taxidermy nug with a face only Leliana could love. There's little nug carvings. There's bigger nug carvings. There's drawings of nug anatomy. I don't know if I'm more freaked out by the idea that Davrin brought them or the idea that Solas left them. Still, he does have a cozy fireplace/chair combo, as long as you don't mind being watched by the empty stares of a thousand lifeless nugs.

[onthewaytosomewhere]

wait?! it's wednesday!?!

well - i guess it has been all day - i'm certain i knew this y'all 🤷‍♀️

so i've got a few tags today (i luv tags) so @england-would-fall @suseagull04 @magicandarchery @agame-writes @taste-thewaste @sunnysideprince @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @heybuddy-drabbles @firenati0n thanks ever so much for the tags (it reminded me it was wednesday and got me wanting to write some more tonight - yay!!) ❤️ i will be perusing these all soon-ish to be unhinged as per normal at your amazing words - once the holy crud is this day over yet portion of the day is finally done ❤️

so today's bit of words is from my hockey!alex and bookshop!henry cuz i got a chance to work on that some more in the last week - amongst the new smaller one i'm also working on to hopefully post next week or so - we'll see lol

“Oh, that’s a load of bollocks, you know as well as I do, you can restock those books later. Now is when you will tell Auntie Pezza why you’re ignoring me. You should know you can’t get away with that by now. On our sacred pub trivia day, no less, what have I ever done to you to deserve such treatment?” Pez’s hand goes to his heart like an overly dramatic southern belle about to faint.

Henry rolls his eyes at Pez’s dramatics, “If you know I’m ignoring you, that’s great. You can skedaddle back where you came from so I can continue getting my work done; I’m sure you have some of your own.” “I do. I’m meeting Liam at the Shelter in a couple of hours, but until then, you have me here.” Pez kneels down and picks up one of the books off the pile Henry has on the floor before continuing, “Haz, tell me what’s going on. What knots are you working that pretty mind of yours into? Is this about the enchanting Alexander?” Henry scoffs, “Enchanting? Are we talking about the same person? Because I don’t see how you would get that.” Pez smiles, reminding Henry that he is talking to the person who knows him best in the world. “I heard you were quite enchanted for at least part of the time he was here. I won’t ask again what happened because I know you are, as my dear Liam says, ‘dug in like a tick,’ and it would be useless right now. Remember, though, when you are ready to talk about it, I’m here.” Pez stands up and holds his hand out to help Henry up, and he takes the hand, the olive branch his best friend is extending. Acknowledging the silent agreement that, as always, he will confide in him when he gets his thoughts untangled enough to communicate them. As they walk over to the counter where Pez left the food by the register, he asks, “So why is Liam meeting you at the shelter? Are you skipping out for the afternoon? If so, please don’t tell me the no doubt dirty details of whatever you have planned.” Pez laughs, and the fond roll of his eyes he directs at Henry tells him he is forgiven for going radio silent for the last day. “You know I don’t kiss and tell, at least not sober,” Pez sends Henry a grin that reminds him of some of those times he has done just that. “But, no, Liam is coming to discuss some of the upcoming events we’re arranging with the team, him and Alex.” “Oh.” Henry tries to keep the contempt out of his voice, but based on the look Pez gives him, he’s unsuccessful.

❤️so now the fun part (and if you've already done this and i missed it (cuz not really had a chance to look yet) well 'hey!') no-pressure tags to @adreamareads @anincompletelist @bitbybitwrites @dragonflylady77 @duchessdepolignaca03 @firstsprinces @forever-fixating @inexplicablymine @junebugclaremontdiaz @kiwiana-writes (i'm totally blaming ya for the pez/liam that now wants to pop into all my fics lol - but i do kinda luv it lol) @priincebutt @sophie1973 @stellarm @typicalopposite

[scoops-aboy86]

By The Heart (Secret Admirer pt 2)

Steddie Week 2024, July 2: Hands / touch starved / Invisible Touch by Genesis

wc: 2136 / rated: T / set between seasons 2 and 3 / also on ao3

After the world fell apart a second time in November of ‘84, Steve had finished out the rest of his senior year in a daze. Partly because Billy Hargrove had broken a fucking plate over his head, giving him a small scar by his hairline that the doctor said would fade and recurring headaches that the doctor said might stick around anywhere from a few months to forever. 

It’s been more than a few months and the headaches are only slightly less frequent and a tiny bit less severe. 

He graduated, barely. His dad keeps dropping pointed comments about how his parents let him stay in their house rent-free after high school, how he’d saved up while attending a nearby college by not having to worry about the cost of a dorm or basic meals, and that it is his gratitude towards them that has moved him to offer the same to Steve. Usually said comments come after Steve tries to sidestep some sort of menial task, and it always feels like a threat.Steve just grits his teeth and takes it—refills his dad’s drink when the bottle is already literally right by the man’s hand, washes the family car after dinner when both his parents know that Steve has a shift at Scoops first thing in the morning, whatever. He can’t afford to get kicked out right now. 

His job at Scoops Ahoy is shit, all bright fluorescent lights and kids screaming and everything getting sticky for a measly minimum wage, but that probably reflects the quality of the job application he’d submitted. 

He has no friends, no prospects, no one in his corner except a bunch of incoming freshmen and the only one who really seems to want him around is off at some sort of smart people camp that he’d never even heard of… Go figure. 

But he has Secret Admirer. 

Okay, what Steve has is a pen pal who has a PO box and prefers to remain anonymous, possibly because Steve is an embarrassing person to have a crush on these days. And it’s really stupid that he thinks of them as first name Secret, last name Admirer, but it’s not like he hasn’t tried to come up with better names! Unfortunately, there are so many things Secret Admirer has called him (sweetheart, darling, dearest, honey, baby) that he can’t really think of anything original with those constantly rotating in his head… He can’t use them, though. It’d be weird. 

The first letter had been shoved into his locker in the last few weeks of school, looking like someone either wrote it with their non-dominant hand or had also suffered a blow to the head recently, and he hadn’t known what to make of it at first. In fact, he’d considered the possibility that Tommy or Billy were playing some sort of prank on him… but he didn’t think either of them could write “To Steve, the heart of my heart” without bursting into homophobic flames, and if it was Carol she would’ve done her girliest handwriting with hearts dotting the eyes. And his Secret Admirer had mentioned things no one else in his life seemed to care about. 

Like, 

I hope you’re feeling better. Sometimes I notice you squinting or grimacing in the classes we have in common… Are you still getting headaches? Do you get enough rest? You probably already know this, but mental and physical rest are super important for getting your handsome self all recovered, big boy. 

And,

I had a concussion once, not a bad one but it really left an impression. Felt like I was trying to think through a head full of soup for weeks. It sucks that teachers didn’t seem to cut you much slack because, just saying, I noticed they used to do that a lot more when you were still on the basketball and swim teams. Jock privilege placed above consideration of an actual, serious injury? I’m sorry, but that’s the rankest compound of villainous smell that ever offended nostril, sweetheart, and you deserve better. 

So, yeah. Clearly his Secret Admirer is a nerd who doesn’t necessarily have the best opinion of jocks… but still took the time to notice all those things and write kindly about them. It felt nice, knowing that at least one person out there noticed, maybe even cared. 

And when that letter turned out not to be a one-off, a few more letters in his locker and then one in his mailbox, postmarked and everything, after graduation? Steve was hooked, enough to start writing self-consciously back. 

Which has brought him to the point of wanting so badly to meet this person that he’s stooped to begging, and it’s not even getting him anywhere. 

It’s occurred to him that it could be a guy, of course it has. Steve might not be the sharpest knife in the drawer, but he knows it happens. He’d had a friend in middle school, Todd Fischer, nice guy, totally normal kid—got caught kissing some boy in the next grade up behind the gym and turned out to be the worst sprinter of the two. The Fischers had moved out of Hawkins a few weeks later and Steve hadn’t heard anything from or about Todd since. They’d been halfway through reading Romeo & Juliet in English at the time, and Steve remembers thinking when they got to the end of the play that at least things hadn’t gone that badly for Todd and whoever the other kid was. He’s old enough now to know that it could have; between Todd being such a nice kid, Barb dying in his own backyard, and the threat of government agents coming out of the woodwork if he ever breathes a word about certain secrets, the thought leaves a bad taste in Steve’s mouth. 

Anyway, if it is a guy, that would explain why Secret Admirer keeps dancing around his pleas to meet. And the initially disguised handwriting—which had been dropped by the second mailed letter, along with a brief, sheepish apology. 

But it could also be a girl who’s really shy or something. Steve doesn’t want to assume and then look like a total idiot further down the road. Whoever it is, all Steve knows is that he doesn’t want to lose them. He has to play this smart, play it cool… because he knows himself, and already knows that they have him by the heart based on words alone. 

The latest letter is in his hands, crinkled a little at the edges, and Steve can’t help himself from rereading the fifth paragraph yet again. 

… those indecently tiny shorts. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve thought about running my fingers up the inside of those thighs. Or my mouth. Whichever you think you’d like best, baby, I’m not picky. And while I do like ice cream, particularly strawberry with rainbow sprinkles in a cone, I can think of something else I’d love to wrap my hand around and run my tongue over before any drips can escape. You just think about that, hmm? Maybe share some of those thoughts in your reply, if I haven’t scared you off…

He’s not scared off. Doesn’t need to know exactly who put pen to paper to imagine hands and lips running up his legs, either, an invisible touch that sends shivers along his spine. 

Okay, maybe it’s been a while. Between striking out from behind the Scoops counter and not really trying all that hard anyway, the only action Steve’s seen is from his own hand… and this letter. He has thoughts, alright, but has a much better idea of how to translate them into action than words. And this is his problem with the whole pen pal only thing, his natural charm (if he has any left) is absolutely useless in this medium. 

The other problem is that he really, really wants to jerk off about this, except he’s got almost no details to fuel the fantasy. He knows that Secret Admirer had a concussion once, but not what color or length or texture or style their hair is; knows they’re on the fringes of popularity and not really into sports, but nothing about their height or build or how they might move against him. Hell, he doesn’t even know if they’re a girl or a guy, isn’t sure if he should try to imagine boobies and painted nails or stubbled cheeks and big hands. 

Secret Admirer has mentioned being a smoker though, of both tobacco and grass, and Steve is not exactly proud of how strongly this makes him want a cigarette just because it’s all he has to go on. He has work in under an hour and Robin hates the smell of cigarettes, will be extra vicious for their entire shift if he comes in reeking of smoke. 

He’ll have to figure out something else…

Dear Secret Admirer, Thanks for writing again, I was really glad to get your letter. I don’t sleep with them under my pillow because sometimes my pillow ends up on the floor and I don’t want to drool all over them. I keep them in a box in the back of my closet, because sometimes my parents have the cleaning lady do my bedroom without telling me and I don’t want her going through my stuff or putting it in weird places that I can never find again.  Sorry for laughing at you You must not have seen me last week when I threw a banana peel at my coworker for It’s not being humble if I don’t deserve Yeah, fuck high school.  Sorry for not rewriting this, I’m running out of paper and my dad’ll kill me if I break into his office to get more I definitely thought about what you said in your last letter. I thought about it a lot. It’s hard to figure out how to explain what though, because I wanted to picture you like you were probably picturing me when you were writing it. You obviously know what I look like, but I don’t know who you are so I had to get creative. (Which isn’t my strong suit. So if this is stupid maybe we could just never mention it again?) Since I don’t know what you look like and it’d be weird to try and picture you anyway, and then what if I’m not even close and that makes it seem like I don’t like you for who you are? I’m not sure if that makes sense. But anyway, since I don’t know what you look like I pictured you dressed like a ninja.  Hear me out, okay? You’re such a mystery. Ninjas are mysterious, and dressed all black to blend in with the shadows. You can’t see their hair or face and they wear gloves because you can tell a lot about a person by their hands. I guess what I’m saying is I imagined you sneaking into my room at night when the lights are off. Totally silent but with this powerful presence, you know? I think if I were in the same room as you it’d feel like that moment right before the whistle goes off at a swim meet, because that’s just like, holy shit it’s about to happen and your muscles are all tense but ready but you’re waiting, coiled like a snake. So I’m coiled like a snake and you’re still a ninja and I’m not very good at this. I’ve done it over the phone a few times but that’s different. I don’t know where I’m going with this just sitting writing this alone in my room with Genesis playing in the background so I’m going to stop. Just trust me, it was hot. If you ever want to exchange numbers I’d be happy to tell you all about it sometime.  It feels weird to end like that, so I’ll also tell you that I tried reading that Hobbit book you suggested and you were right, it’s a lot easier than the Rings book that the kids I babysit tried to bully me into reading. Bibo is freaking out about all these dwarves in his house and I can relate, it sounds like when those kids all show up and try to rope me into driving them around town. At least they haven’t tried to make me steal anything or try to take on a damn dragon yet. Hopefully this book won’t give them any ideas.  — Steve PS If that was so dumb you changed your mind about still writing to me, please let me down easy. Seriously it would be no hard feelings. At least I still have a great ass and great hair, so I’ve got that going for me.

Tag list (open): @hotluncheddie @lawrencebshoggoth @sofadofax @tangerinesteve @steviewashere

@cryingglightningg @theresebelivett @sleepy-steve @rozzieroos @lunaraindrop

@just-my-latest-hyperfixation @wheneverfeasible @swimmingbirdrunningrock @yesdangerpls @matchingbatbites

@ihavekidneys @p0lybl4nkk @grtwdsmwhr @cheesedoctor @thetinymm

@practicallybegging @fuzzyduxk @greatwerewolfbeliever

[loveinhawkins]

class vivisection

ao3 written for @steddiemicrofic March 2024 prompt, “pin,” 388 words. Rated G, Missing Scene, pre season 2, cw: implied/referenced homophobia

They’re all looking at you, Eddie’s brain helpfully suggests as he heads into first period. It’s not like the thought is unfounded; his entrance prompts whispers, mixed up with remnants of the usual student gossip after summer break: so who’s got the best tan?; did you hear Debbie Lyons went to France?; look, it’s true, Eddie Munson is repeating.

When he reaches his usual seat, there’s a bag on top of the desk already, and great, he’s gotta have a whole confrontation before class has even begun.

But Steve Harrington, sat two desks across, tilts precariously in his seat and retrieves the bag; Eddie’s spot is clear again.

Warily, Eddie sits down. “Uh, how’d you know that I—”

“You left your shit in the tray,” Steve says in an unconcerned drawl.

Eddie checks. There’s an old torn up notebook in the tray underneath his desk, barely written in, no helpful study notes from his past self. Bodes well.

“Doesn’t tell me why you put your shit on my desk, Harrington.”

“You think I wanna deal with a whole scene ‘cause someone sat in your precious seat? S’way too early.”

Eddie feels the familiar spike of irritation, like a gnat in his head. “I’m a big boy, I can take care of myself.”

Steve rolls his eyes to the ceiling. “Whatever, dude.”

And while he certainly seems bored, Eddie’s not gonna be taken for a fool. Yeah, the whole King Steve stuff might be dying, but that doesn’t completely diminish Steve’s social standing, especially now that he’s a senior.

There’s a sharpness in his eyes that suggests he can easily cut through the bullshit, take you down a peg with just one look.

Eddie feels those eyes on him—feels abruptly like a pinned butterfly, every part of him exposed. His palms are sweating.

Maybe there were whispers before he even arrived. Maybe they said more—kept spreading the rumour that started last fall, that he avoids the gym changing rooms because—because—

“Don’t overthink it, Munson,” Steve says. He glances away, eyes flashing with annoyance—but not at him, Eddie realises with faint disbelief. At the whisperers. “I’m just here to pass this damn class.”

He sounds thoroughly done with school already.

Eddie smothers a stab of envy at Steve’s certainty that he’ll pass. Opens his notebook and writes down the date.

[astarionancuntnin]

Die For You

summary: the ascension changed the person Astarion was, or so you believed. you broke up and parted ways after defeating the netherbrain, thinking it was for the best, but when you see him again 6 months later at the reunion, you realize you never truly moved on.

and it seems neither did he.

rating: E

word count: 3.9k

pairing: astarion x you (fem!reader) (fic wide), shadowheart x you (chapter 1 specifically)

cw: 18+. angst, smut, porn with plot, porn with (some) feelings, ascended astarion, bad breakup, awkwardly avoiding your ex, alcohol induced sex, rebound sex (in the sense that youre trying to forget about your ex but you might have feelings for that other person too), oral sex, fingering, stalking, kidnapping, mild violence.

a/n: i have been working on this for over a month now, i have 2 other chapters also ready BUT im undecided on which ending i want for this, so yall get chapter 1 as a teaser, let me know whatcha think :eyes:

a/n²: this is the start of a long fic (my first one, phew)! i intend to update it weekly-ish, i GREATLY appreciate comments as it helps me test the waters on whats to come with it

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I like (I like) what you like (what you like) Long hair (no bra) that's my type (that's right) You just told me, want me to fuck you Baby, I will 'cause I really want to

-

The ascension was complete. He actually went through with it. 7000 souls, gone. 

Astarion, The Vampire Ascendant.

He convinced you that it’s what was necessary. You thought this would bring him peace. It’s what he wanted. You loved him, and you would’ve gone to the ends of the world for him; in your eyes, after everything he'd been through, it's what he deserved.

“I can hear it at last, how all the lowly creatures of this plane are begging to serve.”

But now that it was done, you couldn’t tell if he was still him. If the vampire before you was still the same you spent that first night in the woods. That same one who admitted to have fallen for you. The same one who thanked you for taking a stand against Araj at Moonrise Towers. And if he wasn’t, who was he now? Did he have anything left from his previous self? And could you still love him if he didn’t?

"The world will stir in fear."

The walk back to camp that day was dreary. As Astarion walked ahead of everyone with his newfound confidence, you were dragging your feet behind the rest of your party. The weight of what you had done, slowly setting in. Your friends asked about your well-being and you reassured them all that everything’s fine! It was just a big day! And you simply couldn’t wait to finally rest. You didn’t have the heart to admit that you were regretting what you had encouraged Astarion to do.

Back at the Elfsong, you wave to your companions an early good night as you are heading to bed, before Astarion pulls you aside.

“My consort, we are so close to our triumph, I can almost taste it.” Even his tone was different. What you used to qualify as theatrical was now leaning towards dramatical.

You freeze and look at him dead in his eyes. Every part of you is looking for any proof at all that he was still himself. After all, you had no way to know if the 7007 souls sacrificed also included his own.

“I think we need to talk,” your voice comes out colder than intended.

“Little love, whatever could be the matter?”

“Just– what in the Hells happened to you in there?” The words come out of their own, tainted with sadness.

“It's quite simple, really: I became a better version of myself. The very best, dare I say. And I have no one else but you to thank for it.”

You cross your arms and evade his eyes, your shame for your actions creeping up on you. “I don’t feel great about it, honestly.”

“Well, what’s done is done, and there’s simply no point in dwelling on the past, is there?”

His disdain for the enormous sacrifice that was made makes you scoff, incredulous. “You’re nothing like the Astarion I knew before.”

“I know. I’m better, stronger than he ever was. Finally free of my past.” He smiles, satisfied. “I’m who I always wanted to be. I have everything I ever wanted, except you, by my side.”

His hand reaches out to you and you quickly understand the offer he’s making: to make you a spawn, his spawn. The whole situation is bittersweet to you; of course you’ve always wanted what he wanted, what was best for him, and you would've spent your lifetime with him in another context, but with how he turned out following the ascension, this future isn't something you can imagine yourself in. Now that this choice is given to you, you know better than to accept. 

You shake your head as you step back, “No… I won’t do it.”

He sighs, dropping his hand to his side, “Seems I misjudged you. I thought we might have a future together, eternity, even. Perhaps you’re not worthy.”

His condescending tone sparks a fury within you. “We’ll defeat the elder brain together. But after that, I want nothing to do with you,” you say as you try to contain the anger rising in your chest. His brows furrow, matching your energy. “So be it. You will regret leaving me, more than anything you live to regret.”

You give him one last angry look before walking to your bed, muttering to yourself as you feel tears swelling up. 

“I regret letting you go through with that damned ritual.”

—

You follow through with your promise. With the Netherbrain gone and your tadpoles vanished, nothing kept you together anymore. You parted ways with all your companions, going out on your own, wherever your next adventure guided you. Finally, a normal life, or something closer to it, anyway. You did miss most of them, for what it’s worth; you considered them your family. You often wondered how Wyll and Karlach were faring in the Hells, and how Lae’zel’s quest to take down Vlaakith was going; you even considered offering your help at one point, but after ending things with Astarion, you needed to be alone. The breakup hit you harder than you expected, it left your heart with a void. He looked happy following his ascension, so why couldn’t you be happy for him? Why was this so hard on you? It’s not something you had ever experienced in your past relationships, usually able to move to the next one rather quickly. You didn’t naturally get attached to people, you used to think that nothing lasts forever, and relationships weren’t an exception. This damned vampire proved to you once again that you were right, although you wished for once you weren’t. He took up all your thoughts, and you had to do something to wash him away.

You occupied your time best by helping people in need, taking bounties left and right, roaming the lands and fighting monsters. When you could afford it, you’d spend the night at the local inn, drinking to numb the feelings. On nights when you were most drunk, you ended up sharing someone else's bed, whoever proposed it to you on those nights. With the alcohol in your veins and your eyes closed, your mind let you believe that you were in his arms again. That it was all a bad dream, and you would wake up next to him, only to be hit by the harsh reality the next morning.

You did anything that you thought would help keep your mind busy. It did work for some time; as long as you were actively doing something – focused on the task at hand – you didn’t think about the past, but the moment night fell and you laid to rest alone, you were back at square one. 

You felt guilty about Astarion’s ascension. Guilty of the impact it had on him and your relationship, guilty of the power you let him have and the consequences that it meant. Even guilty of how you felt about it; it was a vicious cycle that plagued you.

It had been your one and only mistake. You let yourself be blinded by the rose-coloured glasses of your love for him, and although you meant well, you’re very conscious of the damage this decision had on him and potentially the city, but also the 7000 souls sacrificed in the process. Granted, they were already spawns and there was no way to save them from this fate, they could’ve at least have had a chance at living in the Underdark. Yes, you had saved the city – damages aside – lifted a curse, freed everyone and yourself from the Absolute, defeated the chosens of the Dead Three, bla bla bla, but your mind always drifted to Astarion’s fate. What if you had stopped him? Surely, your life would be different now. You would be roaming the streets with him, probably. Maybe living together in the Underdark. He would’ve stayed himself. You would’ve been… happier.

When you receive Withers’ invitation to the reunion, it’s the first time in months you’re actually happy, excited even, to see your friends at long last, but also anxious. Your mind drifts to the vampire you used to love. Would you see him at the reunion? Would he have changed at all? How has he been?

Did he still think about you, too?

Looking forward to the night, you treat yourself out to a nice outfit from the local seamstress. You settle on a simple, yet elegant, black long dress with an open back. The summer night is nice and fresh; you’re glad you went for a long sleeved dress. Your hair, which you decided to let down, also partially covers your exposed back, covering you from the breeze. You reach your old campsite to find out you’re the last to arrive, as you see all your friends already mingling. You decide to talk to Shadowheart first, as she was the one you missed the most, as you had grown particularly closer to her during your adventure. In another life, you would’ve been together, you think. You felt bad about not contacting her sooner, but her joy upon seeing you washes away all guilt. She greets you with a smile and a large embrace.

“Come here you! Gods, I missed you!”

You hold her tight, enjoying her strong hug. 

“Tell me everything! How have you been?”

“Oh you know, a few killings here and there, little shenanigans all around, I’m sure whatever you have to share is much more interesting.” You wish you could say something different, but your adventures really had been that bland. 

She rolls her eyes playfully at your deflection, “And how have you been feeling?”

“Greaaat, every day is a new adventure for me to discover.” You give a poor excuse for a laugh as an attempt to convince her.

She tilts her head forward and raises her eyebrow at you. She knew you better than you gave her credit for. “You know what I meant.” Her gaze points to the side behind you and you give a quick glance to see Astarion disdainfully looking at his surroundings, a silver cup in hand.

You sigh as you turn back to her, the facade falling at once. “I try not to think about it. I… hated what he became, and felt guilty about it. I did take part in it, I could’ve stopped it, but I didn’t.” You cross your arms, recollecting your thoughts. “But I’m starting to think that maybe I jumped to conclusions too quickly when I left him. I miss him and it’s… frustrating. Maybe I shouldn’t have come. Seeing him again so soon is more difficult than I originally thought.”

“Did you talk to him?” “I was actually trying to avoid him,” you confess.

“And you think that's healthy?” “It's the only way I'll be able to move on.”

“And how’s that been going?”

“I–” You’re unable to answer her, the truth being that it was going horribly.

She grabs you by your shoulders, bringing your attention back to her, “Hey, you know if you need anything, I’ll be there for you.” You smile, sheepishly, as she brushes your hair behind your ear, softly cupping your cheek. “And if you’re looking for some company to take your mind off of a certain vampire, well, I would be glad to offer mine.” You get lost in her eyes, with her hand soft and warm against your skin. Her invitation is tempting, and your gaze falls on her lips as you speak up.

“Yeah,” you breathe out. “I wouldn’t mind the company.”

“Come meet me when the party's over.” She smiles back, giving you a quick peck on the cheek before walking away. 

You spend the rest of the night catching up with all your friends, always keeping an eye on Astarion, who you notice has been eyeing you as well, as if he was expecting you to approach him, but you never do. You’re convinced nothing good will come out of it and even if you did talk, you’re not sure where you would even begin, so you keep your distance.

As the night settles down, you bid your close friends farewell and sneak out two bottles of wine to share with Shadowheart as she walks you to the inn she’d been staying at. The road is peaceful, and you reminisce about the past with the cleric, indulging in the leftover drinks you stole from the party. When you finally reach the inn, you're both a giggling and stumbling mess, empty bottles of wine still in hand as you enter her room.

As she closes the door behind her, you hear some patrons through the walls yell at you to shut up – it was late and your entrance had been pretty noisy – and you mockingly hush your friend, pressing a finger on her lips.

“Shadoooow, shhhhh” you whisper, your speech slurred. “You’re bothering people.”

“Oh, I’m bothering people? Care to remind me who stumbled their way up the stairs?” She says, laughing, her cheeks blushed by the alcohol.

“Hey– it’s not my fault their steps are so high and your room is so far,” you pout.

“Oh, my apologies,” she takes on a chivalrous tone. “Does my lady require assistance to reach her bed for the night?” 

You answer, matching her tone. “That would be most welcome, dearest.”

You squeal as she picks you up in her arms with an impressive strength, and carries you to the large bed. You giggle when she drops you off, and she leans over you.

“Is my lady satisfied with my service?”

You fail to keep a straight face when you answer. “Most definitely. Thank you, my liege.”

She smiles back softly before crashing next to you, both of you staring at the ceiling, taking in the first moment of silence of your night. A second later and your mind is already thinking about Astarion and you sigh heavily. Your companion instantly notices your change of mood.

“It’s him again, isn't it?”

You groan, grabbing your hair in frustration. “Was I wrong? To let him go through with that damn ritual? Why does he get to live his best life and I’m still feeling awful abo–”

She cups your cheek and pulls your face close to hers, cutting you off with a kiss. 

“How about we get to work on ‘forgetting about him’, hm?”

You nod slightly as you stare into her eyes, and she grins, her hand curling around your neck before crashing her lips against yours once again. You moan into the kiss, feeling the heat spread across your face and to your chest. Her kisses travel from your jaw down to your neck. She pulls your dress down, gradually exposing your flushed chest, before pulling back to take a good look at you, her own face matching your colour.

“You blush so beautifully.” Her voice is soft like velvet, each word making your heart pounce, as she continues to kiss her way down your navel, eventually discarding your dress on the floor.

You hide your face between your hands, trying to conceal the warmth coming from your cheeks and she comes back up to take your hands in hers, revealing your flustered state.

“You’re too pretty to hide yourself like that,” she reassures you with another kiss. “Let me admire you.”

You struggle to keep eye contact as one of her hands makes its way between your legs, teasing your entrance. Her fingers slide easily between your folds, earning her a moan out of you. She finds your clit and rubs you softly, your entire body twitching in reaction to her touch, and you shut your eyes to focus on the feeling, throwing your head back. Shadowheart takes this chance to trace the curve of your breast with her tongue, closing her mouth on its peak and sucking over it. Her tongue works wonders on you, and you whimper as she lightly bites you. 

“Keep singing for me,” She says between kisses, her voice thick with lust. “I love the sound of your voice.”

Her name on your lips is like a prayer as she ravishes your breast, leaving a few love bites over your chest. She pulls back temporarily to remove her own clothing before climbing back in bed, resting between your legs. You barely manage to raise yourself up when she pushes you back down against the bed.

“Lay down love, and let me take care of you. Just the way you deserve it.”

She throws your legs over her shoulders and kisses the inside of your thighs, leaving more love bites and she makes her way to your cunt. Her tongue finally finds its way between your folds and she laps at your juices, making sure to lick you clean.

“Gods, you taste divine.”

Her hands dig in your thighs as she devours you and you arch your back at the sensation, taking in the feeling of her tongue entering you. Your hips soon follow the movement, wanting more contact, and she takes the hint, moving to your clit to give it the attention it deserves. You whine when she enters you with a finger, and a second one, slowly thrusting into you, as her tongue circles your sensitive bud. Your chest rises higher and faster as your breathing quickens, and she knows you're close. Your eyes are long gone, but she looks up to you, admiring your state before she speaks up.

“Let it go, love. Come for me.”

She sucks once more on your clit, her fingers pushing harder against that sweet spot inside of you. You throw your head back, grabbing the bed sheets at your sides as you scream her name with the remaining air in your lungs and a crashing wave of sensations washes over you. For a moment, your mind goes blank, there's nothing but pure bliss. You want to stay like this forever; finally at peace, content. As you come down from your high, your legs give out and you pant excessively, trying to catch your breath.

You feel the bed shift beside you and open your eyes to see Shadowheart lazily making her way next to you.

“But– what about you?” you ask, breathless and tired.

“You don’t think I enjoyed myself just now?” She laughs and kisses you. “You’re simply adorable.” She cups your cheek lovingly, brushing your hair away. 

“Tonight was all about you. Plus, I doubt you'd be able to accomplish anything in the state you're in. You can always make it up to me another night,” she grins and boops your nose, smiling tenderly, before snuggling against you.

You watch her as she drifts to sleep next to you, moments before you cave into your own exhaustion. For the first time in months, you get a good, restful night of sleep.

When morning comes, you’re awakened by a god-awful headache, the consequences of last night’s drinking catching up to you. On the bright side, you find Shadowheart wrapped around you from behind, with her face nuzzled in your neck. You smile and hold on to her arm around your waist, linking your fingers with hers. She awakens soon after and greets you with kisses on your shoulder. You turn around to properly kiss her good morning, but the pain throbbing in your head has you groaning and holding your head instead. She catches on quickly and casts lesser restoration on you, fixing your headache instantly.

“Thank you, doc.” You sigh, content, and turn your head to face her. “How will I ever repay you?”

“I'm sure you'll think of something.”

“Mmh, I might have an idea.”

“Oh?” She chuckles. “Colour me intrigued.”

You flip yourself above her, pinning her down before kissing her lovingly. When you pull away, you find her looking at you with the same lust she had for you the night prior. Her eyes fall on your lips before she speaks again.

“You should follow me on my next adventure. I think it would help you clear things up.”

You pull back, now sitting on her, as you take a moment to answer. “I have a few errands to run, but I might take you up on that offer.”

“I still have the room for a tenday,” she raises herself up on her elbows and gives you a pensive look before continuing her thought. “Let me know when you make up your mind.”

You get dressed up and kiss her goodbye, eager to go back to your own inn to get changed and take a much deserved bath. Since the room you had rented was yours for a few days, you might as well take the chance to shop around while you were there; you were in dire need of new equipment for your next adventures. You spend those days getting upgrades for your gear, and visiting the city. Day after day, something felt odd; you had the weird feeling that you were being watched. Every time, nothing would happen, and neither did you see anyone suspicious, but the feeling never left. One night, as you were making your way to your inn, that feeling only got stronger. The streets weren’t busy per say, but everyone you could see was minding their business, discussing amongst themselves. You pressed ahead to reach the inn faster; maybe it was all in your head, but just in case your intuition was right, you didn’t want to take any chances.

As you turn the corner to take a shortcut in a back alley, two figures block your path. In the dark of the night, you can’t make out their identities, but their threatening auras are enough to make you back away. You bump into two more imposing shadows, somehow having managed to sneak up behind you, who quickly grab your arms before you can think of escaping. You try to fight against them but their combined forces pin you down almost completely. You were strong, you shouldn’t have had any issue fighting them off, but their strength almost felt… surnatural. If you had learned one thing during your misadventures, it was that when brute strength wasn't an option, you had to aim for their egos.

“Come on, four against one? How's that fair? Are you so weak that you can't face me alone? Let me get the chance to fuck you up, one after the other.” You smile cheekily, your blood running hot, ready for a fight. Karlach would be proud.

The bandits remain unphased by your taunting, with only one of them answering to your banter.

“We won't fight you. Our Master requested that you be brought alive.”

“Aw, poor lil pup can’t do anything without its master's permission,” you say, mocking them, and you laugh disdainfully at them. “You’re fucking pathetic.” 

The figure moves towards you and you’re slapped with a strength that would’ve made you fall to your knees, had you not been held by the two other goons.

“ENOUGH!” Another figure speaks up. “Remember the Master mentioned that she be left unharmed.”

You lift your head back up, your breathing ragged by your furor. “How about you bring me to that master of yours so I can show him who he’s messing with?”

You wish you could take back your words as another figure appears, stepping out from the shadows, this one all too familiar.

“Hello, my sweet.”

-

I bet they planned it all out like the shows Went everywhere I go Walked in the store right behind me Stood in line right beside me and followed me to my home I'm sure they figured it out early on That I would never run That they could shoot, but that's no fun 'Cause then they're killing the stolen son, oh

[evolnoomym]

1. This is me trying

Sugar-Daddy!Joel Miller x f!OC

General Masterlist | „Runaway Butterfly 🦋“ Masterlist

Summary: You may have gotten out, but the damage is done. As you look back on the past you take a step forward in the present.

Rating: 18+ explicit content mdni!!!!

Word count: 2k

Warnings: no y/n, f!reader, this is how my first OC Moon got born, childhood abuse, self hatred, alludes to sa & suicide attempt(s), 2 separate instances of underage OC getting taken advantage of, nothing to graphic, Weed consumption, panic attack, OC sexualizes herself, she has tits and ass

If I missed anything please let me know 🙏🏻

Authors note: This is the first chapter of my my first Series, it’s been sitting in my notes basically for about 3 months. (Can we believe I’ve been here for 3 months already 😅) I know it’s rather short but the following chapters will be a lot longer. No Joel except in photos, also the Hawaiian Flannel he wears in one of those is the same as @strang3lov3 owns, hers is inspired by Jim Hopper. Bug was also the one that told me to write, so it’s all thanks to her 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

Shoutout to @saradika-graphics & @cafekitsune for the dividers 🫶🏻

Big thank you to for beta reading @fhatbhabiee & @jennaispunk 🦋🦋🦋

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so if you come across mistakes it might be due to that. I’m totally here for constructive criticism or feedback on how to improve. In general I appreciate comments, likes and reblogs greatly 👌🏻

Technically you are missing, you didn’t tell them where you’d go, they didn’t even knew you’d go at all. Though, you are sure that they are happy to be ridden of the problem, connecting all of them.

They took your pride, confidence, dignity and hope. They clipped your wings early on so you’d never get away, no chance at getting out of this nightmare. Always destined to be the black sheep, the picture-perfect scapegoat for all of them, and whenever something went wrong you got blamed.

No wonder you started to hate yourself, believing their cruel words. You were never good enough and they made you think it would be better if you would just be gone.

They tore you apart, made you hate the girl in the mirror till you just wanted to give up, they put all the blame on you, they used you as a little girl sized punching bag, they made you believe that everybody grows up that way.

Since both of your parents were equally unstable people, it forced you to grow up quickly, so you could take care of them. Never would you know who that real version of yourself could’ve been, without all the trauma, a loss to carry forever.

How should you have known that what happened was wrong, if you never knew anything else. You thought the violence and the loneliness was part of being a little girl.

With time you became something akin to a shapeshifter, trying to be whatever it took to fulfill their desires, if it meant to be loved. Even just the tiniest amount of recognition, was worth giving yourself up.

But those closest betrayed you. Turns out it was all for nothing at all. All the sacrifices you made were so entirely useless, breaking yourself down to become the version they might’ve liked best, trying fit the shape of their choice and satisfy their deranged ego’s.

You scraped together any amount of savings you still had and sold everything you owned that was worth anything. Your Dad and Grandma gave you some money and that was it.

They had pushed you so far, you felt the need to flee to an entirely different continent, almost a 15 hour fly and 525 miles away from what was supposed to be home, that’s what it took to get some semblance of freedom and peace. Austin became your home, it was a fresh start and that’s exactly what was needed.

To much happened, to many unforgivable occurrences. You couldn’t ever heal in the place they broke you in, surrounded by abusers. They might have forgotten, painted an entirely new picture of the truth for themselves, but you’ll always remember what really went down.

You could still vividly remember your brother’s frantic calls once he realized you were gone. He couldn’t believe you’d really go through on that childish silly dream, he always laughed at you for saying, you’d just pack up one day and leave everything behind.

Guess he’s not laughing anymore.

After countless attempts you finally gave in and picked up, only to met by loud thundering voices yelling at you. It was all about how insane you must be, so incredibly selfish, overly dramatic, over-emotional and weak for simply running away.

A coward.

As always it’s just about them, their feelings and what would be best for them. No care for what you’d want and what the best for you could be.

You tolerated more than anyone else would’ve, before ending the call. It was just an accumulation of empty threats, supposed to put you back in line, but it did the opposite. That phone call was the last time you’d speak to them.

8 months have passed since leaving, its now May and here you sit lounging in the living room of your tiny two-room flat. The soft, grey, cloud-like couch was one of your best investments, making it your second favorite place besides your bed.

Its Friday. The clock shows that it’s close to 6 pm, the early-evening breeze flows in through the open balcony and alongside the bustling noises of the streets outside. Cars honking, tires screeching, kids yelling, people laughing and birds chirping, all of it reminds of the overwhelming world waiting outside of your safe bubble.

You just pulled out your rolling tray, trying to quiet your mind, you’ve barely finished licking the paper. When your phone suddenly goes *ping* *ping*, a sound you haven’t heard before.

Normally that might make you anxious but today you are just annoyed by any sort of interruption to your routine.

„Ughhh.”

You begrudgingly get up to retrieve your phone from the kitchen counter. When you reach it and take a look at the screen you immediately understand what caused the strange sound.

A notification for the Sugar-Daddy website you had started using earlier this week. You have tried those odd websites before, at 16 thinking it would be a good idea. Back then you were already after the attention of a mature, wealthy and significantly older Men.

Looking back you always had a weird infatuation with men outside your age range.

Your first kiss happened, when you were 13 and still played with dolls. He was 21 and had just gotten his drivers license, already moved out and had a job. He took you on a walk, then sat down on an old park bench and just kissed you which felt like heaven,at the time. He was your Bestfriend’s older brother who knew exactly how madly in love you were with him.

Two years later, at 15, you thought that 25 year old police apprentice was seriously interested in you, convinced he’d make you his. But, no, he wanted to fuck a minor, he was after the thrill of something tight and young, to be the first to break you in and then throw you away once you served your purpose.

Even though you were foolish and naive, the perfect opportunity for him to use, it seemed your desperate want for genuine love chased him away before he could go in for the kill.

In those instances you were lucky that nothin worse happened, but at 17 the luck had run out or maybe what happened is what you get for making the mistake of trusting.

It was the friendly guy in your semester group, the one who was troubled himself but made you feel like it’s okay, he seemed to understand you. He became a good friend, he made you feel less alone and in the end he became the biggest nightmare.

Your trust was already broken and played with many times before him, but what he did was one too much. He changed the way you viewed the world, the way you lived.

You were deeply afraid of ever running in to him again, and when it happened you could practically feel the world stop spinning.

It was just a worst case scenario that never came true until it did. You remember that day like it was yesterday, it was supposed to be a quiet run to the grocery store, shopping with a friend. Standing in the bread aisle, you were waiting beside the cart for your friend to make her decision. You just stared down at the ground for a split second before looking back up and there he was. Staring at you with this awful smile of his. Ringing in your ears, shivers running down your spine and shaking hands were all you needed to know that getting out of there was more than necessary.

As you stood at the cash register the thought that it might not have been him weaseled itself into your head. The hope that it might’ve been just some mix-up got crushed when a voice behind you spoke up. That voice, the way he talks, you would recognize it anywhere. He was right there, the monster who looked so nice in the beginning was just a couple inches away. You could practically feel him breathe down your neck, just like he did that night. Keeping your composure was the biggest challenge.

Afterwards on the way home, in your friends car you broke down, never ever would you want him that close again. He contributed to you wanting to get away.

Now at 21, even after everything that happened, you thought about giving the Sugar-Daddy thing one last chance. The money would be nice, of course it would, living free without having to worry, having someone who takes care of you and you get to just enjoy living, is the dream.

You wanted to experience that, so the Profil was created, a few pictures were added showing your face, one displayed a peak of cleavage and another with focus on your backside, wearing tight pants that accentuate your plush ass all while you are just sweetly gazing over your shoulder.

Those photos were choosen with good reasoning, you believed that showing skin would attract more attention from the Sugar-Daddy’s.

A classmate once told you „You know...the only fuckable thing about you is that set of tits and that ass. Nothin else, well except maybe ur mouth,“ all while smugly laughing.

And he wasn’t the only one who said shit like that, so you believed it, showin off the assets it was and it worked but none of these man were really what you were looking for.

After 2 days of being flooded with messages, little to nothing came through anymore which you were a bit happy about, since the overwhelming attention was too much too quickly.

You are a recluse, three friends that’s all you got, two of them not even living in Austin. A lot of times you just want to be alone with yourself. Branching out like 6 years ago is not your style anymore and you started to regret putting yourself out there like this. You would’ve probably deleted the profile if it wasn’t for the awfully handsome Man who apparently took a look at your profile which caused the whole strange notification-sound.

You could only see his name “Joel Miller” but that was enough to peak your interest.

You take your phone, walk back to the couch and sit down. You scutch backwards till you can feel the pillow at your back to lean against. You open his profile and your mouth goes dry instantly. He looks to be about 40 ish, his brown-grey streaked locks are neatly styled, a well groomed beard adorned his face and those grey patches certainly made you squirm in place.

They showed his age and that is what turned you on. His amber brown orbs were quickly pulling you in. In some of his photos he wore expensive lookin suits, all highly professional. In others he looked more casual, wearing flannels and even a cute hawaiian shirt in a picture that must’ve been taken on a beach.

He looked big, 6ft3 tall, tan skin, with broad shoulders, biceps that could crush you and his hands, oh they are a sight to behold, you thought of what he could possibly to with them. How would they feel on your body, holding your hand, caressing your face, stroking your head or squeezing your waist.

You feel your cheeks get warm, heart rate picking up and there is a tremble in your breathing, all because of him.

You can already imagine how much power he would have over you with his entire body, you want that.

With all the gawking and fanning you lost track of the time, 45 minutes where spend looking at him, that realization made you feel a bit embarrassed but it turned into shock when the *Ping* *Ping* sound of again, this time with a notification that read ”Congratulations, The verified Sugar-Daddy has sent you a message don’t let him wait to long, swipe here to answer,“ and then his name ��...Joel Miller“.

Maybe he would be different to those before him, maybe you got your luck back and so you decided swipe.

Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI, thank you 🙏🏻

People I think might be interested: @aurorawritestoescape @milla-frenchy @joelmillerisapunk @joelslegalwhre @punkshort @burntheedges @almostfoxglove @taeslarityy @joelsdagger @littlemisspascal

Taglist 🦋: @joelalorian @msjarvis @stevie75 @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 @beefrobeefcal @baronessvonglitter @sherala007 @moonlitbirdie @thundermartini @sjc7542

Please let me know if you want to be added to the taglist or taken off 🫶🏻

[mingi-s-dimples]

You took san home...

pairing: sub until he's not!san x bratty sub!f reader rating: 18+ (MDNI - literal filth)

genre: smut, idol au, established relationship

summary: You ask your boyfriend, San, to keep the blindfold he used to himself after the performance... only to surprise him later.

WC: 2.8k

warnings: idol au, sub until he's not!san (he lets reader top over him for a min), dacryphilia (kinda?), blow job, hand job, oral (m receiving & implied f), choking (both on cock & by hand), pet names (love, babe, baby, Sannie, sweetie) dry humping (edging through clothes), light bondage & sense deprivation (tying wrists f & blindfold m), a lil bit of a size kink ig?, making out (a bit), multiple rounds, multiple orgasms (m&f) & a ruined orgasm (m), overstim, creampies, use of toys (a vibrator), deepthroating, teasing, orgasm control (from where ruined orgasm cause my y/ n was feeling bratty lol I went overboard), fluff (a crumb), aftercare (a crumb-i promise he's a good guy he just wants to go for another round), unprotected (booo, use protection ir| !), completely consensual!, it's straight up filth with a crumb of romance that's all you need to know (filthy love), completely unedited, might edit it later (I'm sure I forgot to mention sth)

Author's note: I love how I wrote this actually! English is not my native language, please excuse any grammatical errors ! It's the first time I've ever written smut (but I love reading it). The story is unedited, I will post it like this for now. Might do a part 2 with y/n getting eaten out, what do y'all think 👹

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction & does not represent in any way the reality of the member.

You should've seen it coming, as soon as you found out they're going on a new tour. How all of his fans would scream for him, how the cameras follow him all around the venue. Even though you were his girlfriend, you still felt a little jealous of all the atinys that got to see him like that, performing with all his power and passion. When you first found out that one of your favourite songs - and performances - take me home, was on their setlist, even though you were aware of the fact that the song had pretty much...sad lyrics, the performance was insane. He barely let you attend the concert, thinking he was going to get distracted. But you begged and begged and told him you'd be a good girl, so he let you. But, before you left to the venue by yourself to blend in, you had a talk with your boyfriend.

"Babe, can I ask you for a favor? I promise it's nothing too big." you stopped San right as he was leaving to the venue, looking at him with puppy eyes.

"Of course, darling, what is it?" he said, looking softly in your eyes.

"You see, I want you to keep the white silky blindfold...to yourself...when you finish the concert. Could you do that for me, please?"

"Hm...what do you want to do with it, babe? Should I be curious?" San said caressing your cheek.

"No, no, not yet ! I promise you'll enjoy it, don't you trust me?"

"Okay babe, I'll take it with me. See you at our hotel after the concert? I'll wait for you there after you enjoy your time as....a simple fan, in the crowd" he whispered, sending soft shivers down your spine.

You blew a kiss to him and, as soon as he left for the venue, a lot earlier than the concert, you went to your room to prepare yourself for the performance.

"Hmm, this will do" you said while looking in the mirror placed right in front of your bed. A nice, tight silk dress, flowing beautifully down your curves. It was a pretty short one, too, but you knew how jealous San would get over it...and also how much he liked it. Only thinking about this turned you on a bit, knowing how good he'll fuck you dumb tonight, after your little game. You knew he would let you dom over him for your own sake...and when you were done with it... he'd destroy you.

_________________________________________

"Yo, guys, the concert was fucking incredible! Y'all were so good!" you addressed the praise to the other members, after you sneaked in the back.

"Thank you, y/n, the atmosphere was really nice! All our fans were so excited to see us!" said Hongjoong, smiling softly, approaching you slowly to give you a warm hug.

"Where is San, though? I haven't seen him anywhere." you asked, confused.

"Ah, he already left, he's on his way to the hotel. Didn't y'all need to meet or something? He was pretty secretive about it." said Wooyoung, looking you up and down, to find the meaning behind your outfit. "Heh, you dressed like this just for him, hm? I bet he doesn't know you're wearing this. I mean, he wouldn't have let you leave like that, in the first place" he said teasingly, with a smirk on his face.

"Please, don't tire him too much....we have some promotions tomorrow.." Wooyoung whispered, making you flinch and curse him out.

"Oh for fucks sake, shut up."

---

"Can anyone give me a ride? It's too late to go alone"

"Yup, see you at the car" said Yeosang, while looking around for his keys.

---

"Y/n, have fun" he said smiling at you, giving you the look.

"Oh cmon, you and Wooyoung...though, thanks for driving me, I owe you one" you said right before shutting the door.

_________________________________________

While you were in the elevator, all of the filthy thoughts started filling your mind. Would San agree to it? Would he actually like it? Or would he punish you...all of these thoughts were going straight to your pussy, as your arousal was pooling in your lace panties.

You knocked on the door. Nothing.

You knocked again, this time hearing your boyfriend murmuring something, and then some steps were coming towards the door.

As he opened the door for you...his jaw dropped. He was scanning you from toe to head...his gaze darkening upon seeing your dress.

"Hi, babe" you said teasingly, looking him in the eyes. Your left hand was resting on his cheek, stroking him slowly. "What do you think..of my dress?"

"Oh babe..I'll show you what I think about it" he said and you didn't even have time to react. He planted a kiss on your lips, aggressively, interlocking his tongue with yours. The only sounds you could hear was the lewd ones you were making. You wanted to much more, so you pushed yourself in his grip. He closed the door behind you and took you to your bed. His hands were tracing you entire body...going from your neck, where he planted soft, sloppy kisses...to your waist, and to your ass. He lifted your short silky dress only to be welcomed by the wet spot between your thighs. You flinched, as he touched you through the fabric. The friction between your panties and his two fingers were driving you insane...you were squirming over his hand, trying to get more. As your arousal started to drip on your thighs, through the thin cloth, San pushed you on the bed, to watch everything.

As he was approaching you fiercely, you stopped him with you leg.

"Nu-uh, babe. I told you I had something prepared for you tonight...after that..you can fuck me how you like" I said, teasingly, pressing my foot on his chest.

"Goddam y/n, making me wait like that? Fine, I'll let you. After all, you got me so fucking turned on, you won't be able to walk tomorrow." he said, searching the white lacey blindfold in his back pocket. Just seeing him like that...made you thirsty for more. You, basically undressed, dripping from your cunt on the sheets. Him? fully dressed, a few of his buttons ripped out. While he handed you the cloth you've been waiting all along, he looked at you a bit confused.

"What are we doing with this babe? It's barely going to tie you up or something..." he said, tracing your wrists.

"Oh babe, only if you'd knew...Please, could you lay on your back? Let me try this once..pretty please?" you said, looking at him with puppy eyes.

--

As he laid on his back, you told him promptly to keep his hands to himself and, as you tied the blindfold to his eyes, he smiled, not knowing what you were going to do to him.

A moment later, he feels you getting off the bed. He stands up to lean against the headboard, while trying to see what's happening, through the blindfold. He hears you rumbling through your suitcase, and gave you a confused, yet excited look.

"So...babe. I thought about something...how should I say this?" you said, walking towards him. You gave him the item you've been searching for.

"Damn, babe, is this a vibrator? What do you want to use it for?" he said while feeling it in his hands.

"Hm...well, you know how I told you I'd want to fulfill one of my little fantasies...right? Today...I was so excited for the performance where you used your blindfold that I couldn't wait to get back to the hotel...brace yourself, baby." you said softly, while taking the toy from his hands. You then turned it on, on the 2nd slowest speed, and then put it right on your boyfriend's hardening cock, through his jeans. He squirmed at the sensation, letting out a soft moan.

"W-what are y-you doing?" he muffled, trying to get a grip of himself.

"Oh, babe, I'm playing with you now...I can't wait to see your reaction... now." and you turned the speed faster, moving it up and down along the length that was forming an enormous bulge in his pants. His cock, already leaking with pre cum, twitched with every move of yours. Drops of sweat were dripping off his face, his eyebrows frowning every time the vibrator touched his tip through the clothes. He was so out of it, pre cum staining his pants.

"B-babe, I don't think I will last much l-longer" he said through his whimpers.

"Nu-uh, Sannie. You'll have to wait until I let you cum." you said confidently, while turning off the toy. He squirmed in defeat, trying to get some friction within the sheets.

“Oh my, you look so cute like this. All worked up and disappointed of your ruined orgasm. Do you want to cum, babe? Tell me.”

“Yes, love, please, p-please-” he said, breathing heavily. “Please, I’ll be good to you”

“What if….I don’t want you to be good to me after all of this..? Don’t you wann punish your bratty girlfriend? hm?”

“Oh and how much I’d like that….but please…let me cum, I was so fucking close!” he said angrily, squirming under you”

“Okay babe, we’ll see about that”

–

You started to unbutton his jeans, admiring the art you just made. His pants stained with pre cum, his hard angry cock straining painfully against the zipper. You wanted to free him of all of that..but not yet. You only took his pants halfway off, to have a better look at his boxers. Then, you turned on the toy again and put it against his leaking tip through the cloth, receiving a nice shiver from him. It took you only a few moments of edging his tip until he started whimpering again, letting you know that he was close to his high.

“Sannie, cum.” you ordered, as your boyfriend squirmed under the pressure of your hand fondling with the base of his cock, him trembling from the friction. As soon as you pressed his tip again with the highest speed, he let out a loud moan, and, as his cock started twitching, the tip slightly got out of his boxers, strands of translucent, silky white cum covering his abs. Still touching him with the vibrator on the lowest speed, you waited until he finished completely wore off his high and then turned it off. You then climbed on him, just sitting on his abs, the cold feeling of his cum sticking to your thighs forming, yet again, a sloppy pool between your folds.

“So…babe. How was it? I enjoyed the view of you begging me to let you cum” you let out a soft chuckle, as you untied the blindfold.

“Oh, my god. This was fucking incredible, babe. I never felt like this before…I don’t know what to say. I enjoyed it but..love…how much you annoyed me by fucking up with my orgasm. Not nice of you at all, sweetie.” he said, while he manhandled you on your back, so fast that you didn’t even realise. “But now, babe, is my turn. I gotta admit, your game was…incredible, but now you gotta brace yourself.” he said, as he tied your hands to the headboard with his belt.

“W-what when did you get it?” you said horrified at the thought of you being tied up….but it only turned you on more.

“Cmon babe, relax yourself, the night just started. Your punishment is yet to come* he said, with a soft smirk on his face.

Then, he went down right to your dripping cunt, using two fingers to touch the damp cloth. You moaned in pleasure, squirming under the pressure of his fingers, trying to get more friction. He moved your panty to the side, to have a better look. He went right in, curling his two fingers right into your sweet spot. As you felt a tingling sensation in your cunt, you started whimpering for more. He knew what it meant, so he inserted another finger. You let your head drop in pleasure and surprise, at how his fingers filled you so good. Yet, you felt so empty. You wanted his dick inside you, destroying your insides.

“B-babe, p-please. Fuck me.”

“I-i, I need your cock in me”

“Oh babe…how needy are you today, don't you think?” he then approached your cunt with the vibrator you used on him earlier, not thinking much of it until he turned it on. You let out a moan of pleasure, while he was still fingering you. His thumb and toy on your clit, moving it in circles.

You felt how the knot in your belly started getting tighter and tighter, you felt how you were about to cum. But he didn’t let you, yet.

He took his pants off completely and with one hand on your neck choking and muffling your moans, he tapped his again hardened cock on your folds, then went right in. You couldn't make a sound, getting dizzy from being choked by his hand. You could feel his rings imprinting into your flesh. Trying to say something, he released his grip on your neck and went right for your hardened nipple. As he was lazily pounding into you, he admired how your chest rose up with each of his every thrust, slowly getting deeper and faster. When he bottomed down, you both left out a moan at the same time, tears falling down your face. You loved how good your boyfriend was always filling you up, how well he was stretching you out. It always hurt, but you loved pain as it felt like pleasure to you. Then he started rapidly pounding into you, hitting your g-spot, while one of his hands was fondling with your nipple, his other hand pressing circles on your clit.

“S-sannie, I'm c-close” you said, and right after that you got pulled deeper, the friction from your folds to the base of his cock making you throw your head back in pleasure.

As soon as he heard you, he started pumping deeply into you, angrily, and within a few more thrusts, you could feel the knot in your belly unfold, seeing stars as you came down from your high. Your boyfriend, though, had other plans. As soon as you wore off your high, he put you on all fours and took your hair into a slight ponytail, guiding you to his cock.

“Oh babe, how I've been waiting for this. You know, I let you cum, I've been a good boy to you. But I haven't yet…so you gotta help me with that” he said with a smirk on his face, looking into your eyes as he promptly slapped the tip of his hard, big girthy cock on your lips. He then signaled you to open your mouth, to which you obeyed. He put it in slowly, letting you to adjust to his size and then bottomed out.

You could feel how his dick was touching the back of your throat, tears swelling in your eyes. As he wiped the falling tears off your cheek, he let you stay for a second like that until he raised his eyebrows. You knew you needed to start sucking like your life depended on it. And as you started licking his length, pressing your tongue to his tip and also brushing your hand against the base of his cock, you could feel him twitch in your mouth, with every touch of your tongue. The corners of your mouth were definitely stinging a bit, his girthy cock always stretching your everything. He let you do it at first, at your own pace, but he felt it was too slow and not rough enough. So he took your hair into his right hand and started fucking your throat, tears swelling in the corner of your eyes, feeling dizzy from the lack of oxigen. He didn't last long, as after a few more deep thrusts into your throat he came right there, slowing his pace to let you swallow his load. You felt like he came endlessly, your throat and mouth getting filled with his cum.

After he made sure you swallowed everything, he let you fall on your back, him laying right besides you. He gave you soft kisses on your forehead, cheek and then on your collarbone. He then got up to get a towel and get you cleaned up, only for his next words to be…

“Babe, I'm not done yet. Prep yourself for another round. This time, you’re getting eaten out.” he said, smiling at you, knowing by the expression on your face that you couldn't wait any longer.

[doctorroseficmarathon]

Presenting the DoctorRose Fic Marathon 2024, August 1st-31st

Hello everyone! After taking a year off from the fic marathon we are back and bigger than ever! But since it’s been a while I figure I’ll reintroduce myself and the fic marathon! I’m @bigbad-tardis and the DoctorRose Fic Marathon is one month where authors write as much doctorrose fanfic as possible! There are prompts to get people inspired, but they are not necessary to follow. Write whatever you want, the point of the month is to just to write! The event of hosted on ao3, but the fics can be posted anywhere!

Normally the fic marathon was the month of September but because of scheduling, now the fic marathon will be moved up a month to August 1st-31st! And now there are 31 prompts instead of 30 to reflect this change! That makes this the biggest fic marathon ever. This is a beginner friendly event designed only to inspire people to write for the Doctor and Rose. It can be any pairing, ninerose, tenrose, elevenrose, hey! Even fifteenrose! Whatever floats your boat. And if you post your fic on tumblr, tag this account so I can reblog! I will also be posting on Twitter as well with help from @holdinontostars so check us out there too as docrosefic!

Before we get started, let’s refresh on the rules.

If you choose to connect any oneshots, do so as a series instead of a single story.

There is no set length or rating, write the fic you want to write! Tag your work appropriately but all types of fics are welcome during the fic marathon.

Tag the fic DoctorRose Fic Marathon (2024) so we can see what’s being posted!

Have fun!

There’s event is designed to be low stress, there is no need to feel like you have to write all of the prompts or for every day, or even in any order. They are only there to generate ideas and whatever fic you can write is plenty!

Now onto the prompts!

1. “We need you, I need you.”

This can be said in dialogue, this could be the start to the fic, whatever you want! It

2. Truth Serum

An oldie but a goodie! Keen eyes might remember it from previous events.

3. One Bed

There was only one bed, oh no, what will the Doctor and Rose do?

4. Sickfic

I’m actually not sure if I’ve done this one before. But personally I think we need more sickfics out there! This one was suggested anonymously by a follower!

5. “Who’s Afraid of the Big Bad Wolf”

Who is afraid of the Big Bad Wolf indeed, I think there is a lot more than meets the eye to our formerly godlike friend Rose Tyler.

6. Accidental Baby Acquisition

Half kidfic, half adoption, half chaos. What would it be like if the Doctor and Rose suddenly acquired a child, whether that be their own, an orphan, or anything of the sort.

7. (Super)hero

This one is a little self indulgent, but the Doctor might be one of the greatest heroes ever. Or Rose too for that matter. (But personally I’d like to see a cape or two)

8. Bad Wolf as Disability

This could be any disability, but you can’t expect me to believe that Bad Wolf didn’t leave any side effects. This was was also anonymously suggested.

9. “His One Constant Companion”

What if the Doctor’s constant companion isn’t death, but in fact someone else?

10. Episode Fix-It

Previously there was a trio of prompts corresponding to GitF, Doomsday, and Journey’s End, but I’ve combined and expanded the prompt to apply to any episode.

11. At a Ball

This was also anonymously suggested! Big fan of elaborate dresses and dancing.

12. Multi Doctor

Haven’t you wondered what it would be like for there to be multiple Doctors in the same time and only one Rose?

13. Reunion

You all know why.

14. “You Are Who You Choose to Be”

This quote from the Iron Giant is about a weapon who doesn’t want to hurt anyone, kind of like the Doctor in a way, no?

15. Time Loop

Heaven Sent, Eve of the Daleks, it’s a sci-fi classic for a reason.

16. Alternate First Meeting

This juggernaut of a prompt has been in the fic marathon three times, and that’s because it’s my favorite!

17. Phones

One of the features of New Who is that the Doctor upgrades the companions phones, how does that change the dynamic.

18. Jealousy

This was anonymously submitted as well!

19. Soulmates

Another anonymous submission but oh they’re so right. The Doctor and Rose are soulmates.

20. “The North Wind Blows and Carries Down the Distant Rose”

Have you guys ever noticed that the wind picks up during dimensional travel sometimes… the north wind carries the distant Rose? Just saying

21. Bad Wolf/The Oncoming Storm

Everyone fears someone, the TARDIS just happens to have two of the most scary people ever.

22. Supernatural

No im not talking about superwholock. Unless that’s something you like, then feel free, but this was intended to be an all encompassing trope for the people who wanted magic and mermaids. It’s even more relevant now that Doctor Who is experimenting with superstition.

23. Only Description

This guy is the only “challenging” prompt for the event. Try to write a story without dialogue and only using description.

24. Sun, Moon, and Stars

Rose Tyler burns like the sun, the Doctor sometimes lands on the moon. Loads of possibilities here!

25. The Master

I’m just saying that the Rose, Doctor, Master dynamic could be hilarious if given the chance.

26. Domestics

The Doctor said he didn’t do domestic, but ever since they met Rose they seem very versed in it. Curious.

27. “Something of the Wolf”

We all know that there has to be something has to have changed with Rose Tyler after Bad Wolf, and apparently other people have noticed too.

28. Classic

This could mean a lot of things, Classic Who references, or are the Doctor and Rose a classic love story?

29. Timey Wimey

The Tenth Doctor invented this iconic phrase, there are numerous ways this could apply to the Doctor and Rose.

30. Dreams

Look, the Doctor is a telepath, everyone dreams. Loads of possibilities here.

31. Forever

I always try to end out the month with the sappiest of prompts, and I think this one fits.

[jerzwriter]

I got this ask a while back, and I thought this was the perfect week to get it done! For @siennatrinhappreciationweek Day 2 - Baking.

Book: Open Heart Characters: Sienna Trinh, Aurora Emery, Casey MacTavish Rating: General Words: 662 Summary: Being a medical resident is hard, but it helps to have a good friend and some good treats to get through.

Casey wiped her hand across her brow, unknowingly leaving a thin streak of batter behind. “Sienna, are you sure we need this much chocolate?” she asked, eyeing the mountain of chopped chocolate sitting atop the counter.

Sienna placed her hand across her heart, gasping in mock horror. “Bite your tongue! There is no such thing as too much chocolate! Wow, you think you know a person!”

“Hey, I appreciate chocolate,” Casey assured. “But that’s... a lot!”

“Why do you think my brownies are so good?” Sienna asked. She leaned closer to whisper. “This is my secret to making them super fudgy. You’re the only other person I’ve ever told, and this stays between us!”  

“I’ll take it to the grave,” Casey winked. “And I trust you. You are the expert, after all!” She grabbed a piece of chocolate from the pile and shoved it in her mouth, but Sienna slapped her hand away when she tried to get another.

“Hey! Is this why you’re advocating for less chocolate!”

“Giwty!” Casey mumbled with her mouth full.

Aurora stepped into the kitchen, shaking her head at the scene she took in. “Sienna! I told you letting Casey in the kitchen isn’t the best idea.”

“I can bake," Casey insisted. "It’s real food I have a problem with!”  

“Are you saying chocolate isn’t real food,” Aurora glared as she stole a piece.

“Hey!” Sienna scowled, but Aurora looked her friend in the eyes as she took yet another.

“This is great chocolate!”

“And we might make great brownies!” Sienna scolded. “If you two stop eating the best ingredient!”

She leaned over to check Casey’s progress. “Looking good. Now, slowly add the eggs one at a time.”

As Casey followed Sienna’s instructions, she couldn’t help but be envious of her friend’s skills in the kitchen. “How do you make everything look so effortless?” she asked. “I can barely boil water without setting off the fire alarm.”

“We know,” Aurora winked. But Sienna beamed with pride.

“It just takes practice and a lot of trial and error. I wasn’t always this good, and you’ll get there, too. Besides, the best part about baking is that even the mistakes usually taste pretty good.”

“I hope you’re right,” Casey said, folding the chocolate into the batter. “Because these are beginning to look amazing.”

Sienna nodded with approval. “You’re doing great. Now, let’s pour this into the baking pan because the oven is ready!”

“This is a nice change of pace from the hospital,” Casey sighed. “It feels good to actually relax for a little bit.”

Sienna glanced at her friend, her expression softening. “Good! We both need that! Baking can be like therapy – I consider it self-care.”

“And the rest of us consider eating your baked goods self-care,” Aurora beamed.

“See, so it works all around!” Casey smiled. “Thanks for doing this with me, Si. I know it’s a busy week for you; I appreciate you taking the time for me.”

Sienna waved a hand dismissively. “Anytime. Baking is always more fun with a friend.”

The kitchen began to fill with a rich, chocolatey aroma, and when the alarm went off, they could hardly wait to dig in.

“Not so fast!” Sienna ordered. “We have to let them cool first!”

Casey nudged Sienna’s shoulder. “This is why I need you.”

Shortly after, Sienna poured two big glasses of milk as Casey dug in, her eyes widening. “Sienna, these are delicious!”

“Told you. You did great, Casey!"

Casey smiled, feeling a warm sense of accomplishment. “Maybe with a few more lessons, I’ll be as good as you.”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Sienna chuckled. “But I have no doubt; we’ll make a baker out of you yet.”

They spent the rest of their day off together, enjoying their brownies and each other’s company; the stress of their residencies just melted away, and Sienna and Casey knew two things: the brownies were delightfully sweet, but nothing was sweeter than the friendship they shared.

@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

[avocado-writing]

Roland Blum x Reader

notes: nobody asked for this but I wrote it anyway. big shout out to my mate M who helped me brainstorm this and came up with some of the *chefs kiss* lines. might do a part 2 idk rating: E, minors dni

words: 2.4k

cw: utter filth. smut; excessive discussion of oral sex; pegging; you’re both switches lmfao taglist: @clarina04 @havaheart @angiestopit @cryptid-flannelhell @shadowluna25

Roland Blum fucking hates you. 

He hates how you think you know everything even though you’re just a kid. Yeah, sure, he was the exact same way when he was your age, but he also acknowledges that he’s a hypocrite and doesn’t care. He hates the tight little outfits you wear, because he’s a slut for a well-tailored suit and you know you look exceptionally fuckable in them. He hates how he couldn’t stop imagining bending you over his desk and drenching his cock in your tight little pussy, wondering what his name would sound like from your mouth as you choke it out through orgasms. He hates that you’ve rejected his every advance so far. 

Most of all he hates how you’re good at this job. It’s infuriating. If you were shit, like so many of the others he’s seen come and go through these doors, it might be different. But you’re not. You’re a fucking shark, out for blood. Just like him. 

He hates you. 

If there’s one thing that’s worse than you it’s your shitty little boyfriend. 

He’s constantly around, trying to earn your approval - and he does need to earn it because it doesn’t take much research to find out he’s a fucking serial cheater. He has this habit of falling dick first into leggy blondes he finds at bars which you don’t much approve of. And you fucking let him keep getting away with it! You don’t even seem to like the guy that much. Roland can see the thinly veiled disinterest on your face every time your boyfriend tries to surprise you with your favourite coffee or a bunch of flowers. You accept them, and the kiss he offers, and then look relieved when he’s gone. 

You need a good fuck. You need it. He can tell, and he’s sure your boyfriend isn’t getting the job done. Nobody sexually satisfied is as bitchy as you are. Except, maybe, for him. But his exception doesn’t prove the rule. He teases you about it mercilessly and loudly, and your conversations always end the same way. 

“Maybe if someone was taking care of your vagina, it wouldn’t have sand in it.”

“I fucking hate you, Roland.”

“Yeah, I know.”

But you work well together, that can’t be denied. Case after case you take on, and case after case you win. It’s nice that you can put your mutual loathing aside to be professional for long enough to help your clients out.

He knows where you’re meant to be meeting your boyfriend that night. That fancy bar in the penthouse of that hotel. Seems fucking stupid to him, bars should be on ground level, but what does he know. While you’re in the bathroom he gets himself something strong which goes down well with the pill he takes; he sits in the corner where he won’t be seen and watches you. 

You’re sitting on a tall stool, drumming your fingers on the counter. At first you look hopeful. Then you look at your watch. Over and over again. He can see the excitement leave you and you deflate like a balloon animal left in some kid’s room as time ticks by. Eventually your phone rings, and though he can’t work out every word, you have a very short conversation with the person on the other end, finishing the call by jabbing your screen so hard he’s surprised the glass doesn’t shatter. 

You head into the elevator. He follows you. You’re the only two in there as the doors slide shut and it begins its descent. He leans on the wall and looks at you, levelly. You don’t even seem surprised that he’s there, you just look sort of tired. 

“So,” he says, and you look like you’re bracing yourself for him to mock you like he usually would, but he gets straight to the point, “you gonna let me fuck you?”

You look at him, properly look at him. You seem to sum him up for the first time since you started at the firm, let your eyes trail up and down his body, taking him in. 

“Roland, you have until the alcohol wears off.”

You barely get the last word out, actually, because he hears your consent and fucking lunges for you. His mouth is hot and rough on yours, beard scraping your chin and cheeks, and he grins into it when he hears you moan. Moaning from a kiss? You are desperate. 

He slams his fist on the emergency brake button and the elevator screeches to a halt. You pull back to look at him, confused and appalled. He likes it. 

“What?” he asks, pressing his thigh between yours, up into your needy cunt, “You said I have until the alcohol wears off, I’m not wasting a single fucking second with you.”

You seem oddly charmed by that idea, but it’s only a quick flash of sentiment over your face before he finds your clit and begins to fuck into it with the width of his thigh. You begin to twist and writhe in pleasure against him, wanting to ride him yourself, but him not allowing you the freedom to do it. He grins as he watches you melt. 

“Knew you needed someone to take care of your little cunt.”

“I fucking hate you,” you snap, but he can tell your heart isn’t in it. Not this time anyway. He pulls off his suit blazer and, with a flick of the wrist that is too certain to have not been practised before, he manages to throw it over the camera in the upper corner of the elevator, letting it hang off it as if it were a coat rack. Seemingly happy that you have a few minutes, you let him kiss his way down your body and end up on his knees in front of you. He sees the hungry way you look down at him and wants to see it on your face all the fucking time. 

He makes light work of your tight little skirt, raising his eyebrows when he gets to your thong. You shove him with your foot. 

“What?”

“Someone thought she was gonna get lucky tonight.”

“Yeah, well, I fucking am aren’t I?”

He can’t argue with that. Well, he could, but for once he doesn’t. Instead he rips it off your body with his bare hand and shoves it into his trouser pocket. You yelp but any complaints you have are quickly doused when he begins to fuck you with his mouth. He is fucking ravenous for you, pressing his fingers up inside your greedy cunt and latching onto your clit viciously. You haul a leg over his shoulder and pull him in harder against you, your heel knocking against his spine. He digs his hands into the meat of your ass and hopes his fingernails leave little crescents. 

You come once on his fingers, heavy and slick, and look both exhausted and disappointed when he pulls his hand away. He sucks his fingers dry and nods to the elevator control panel. 

“Thing’s about to start working again. I’d get dressed if I were you.”

On cue the elevator begins to whir as someone somewhere deactivates the brake. As it starts to swoop downwards and finish its journey you scrabble to get your skirt back on while Roland grins at the show. 

He takes his suit jacket and walks out the door with confidence when they open, striding past the assembled staff with utter nonchalance. 

“Get that fucking thing fixed, almost ruined my evening,” he shouts at them, but anyone looking for too long can see his beard is soaked in you. You do your best to mimic his confidence, walking out as if the elevator room doesn’t reek of sex. 

He heads to the street, doesn’t say anything, but offers the cab driver two hundred dollars to ignore what’s happening in the back seat. You bark out your address and fall into his lap. 

Roland fingers you while you’re driven to your apartment. You’re one orgasm deep and high off it, and he makes you come again in the back of a dark taxi while easy listening plays over the radio. When the journey is over you grab his tie and pull him the two flights up to your home. He likes it a lot, being led like a dog, but there will be time to explore that another day. 

Because there will be another day. 

Roland takes immense joy in fucking you on the mattress he can only imagine your boyfriend has disappointed you on hundreds of times. He has stamina, you’ll give him that, and he ends up coming inside you three times over the following hours. By the end of it you’re lying on either side of the bed, sweaty and exhausted, just listening to the sound of your combined breathing. 

“Why do you wax?” is the question he chooses to break the silence with. You look confused, and he points to your pussy. 

“Oh. Personal preference I guess.”

“No, try again.”

“What—”

“I can tell when you’re lying. About this, anyway. Tell me why.”

You clench your jaw, but admit: “My boyfriend doesn’t like me hairy.”

Roland lets out a short, loud laugh that’s reminiscent of a bark.

“What, he afraid to get a pube in his mouth?”

“Roland!” you snap, and hit him with a pillow far harder than it has any right to feel.

“I’m just saying he’s a pussy. Wait, no, let’s not use that word, I fucking love pussy - he’s a coward. Grow it out if you want to grow it out, fuck him. If my face isn’t stuck to your cunt like Velcro then it’s no fun.”

You purse your lips but don’t say anything else.

The next time he fucks you, hair is beginning to grow there again. You’ve not really spoken about that night, and a couple of weeks have already passed. There’s been too much work to think about sex, anyway. Well, to act on it, at least. Well to act on it with each other - he’s not above admitting he kept your thong and likes to have the fabric over his mouth and nose while he jerks off into the toilet. You must know but you’ve not asked for it back, which he finds just wonderful.

The two of you are working late, main office lights off, lit by lamps, utterly exhausted. You’re in business mode, swapping ideas back and forth, butting heads a little but generally agreeing with what the other is saying. Excitement builds in the room and bubbles over to something else, and suddenly you’re in his lap stripping him off, and then he’s hefting you onto the desk and pulling down your skirt. He grins when he sees the slightly more natural state of your pussy and you roll your eyes at him.

“Don’t say a fucking word.”

“Oh, but I really want to.”

You silence him with a ferocious kiss and he begins to slide inside, too horny to bother getting out of his clothes properly; which is saying something because he loves being out of his clothes. He sheathes himself in you and you throw yourself back against the legal papers, not caring about how they scatter.

“So, your boyfriend pissed you off again?” he begins to thrust, pushing his girthy cock even deeper inside your creamy pussy.

“You wanna ask this while you’re inside me?”

He shrugs. He’s still hard as rock, so doesn’t seem to mind the discussion, so you humour him as he begins to work your clit with his thumb.

“Eh, a little. He’s always pissed me off to some level.”

“Why are you with him? You seem to fucking hate him.”

“We’ve been together - aah! - since we were in high school. Our families are friends. It’s just – oh, fuck – expected now.”

“Ahh, expectation, the truest form of love.”

You seem to mull that over, sincere, but you’re taken out of the moment when he slings one of your legs up over his shoulder and fucks into you so deeply you think he’s about to split you in half.

It becomes a more regular thing after that. Your little boyfriend is still around, but he’s none the wiser that you’re spending every other night fucking one of your coworkers. And the two of you are amazing at fucking. Roland believes you could sell tickets to a show to watch the two of you going at each other, feral and needy. And you’re kinky, too! One night you wrap his belt around his neck and squeeze it so hard his vision blurs and he comes more than he has since he was a teenager. On another, you fold him in two on your bed and take your time stretching his ass open before you peg him with the biggest dildo he’s ever seen. A prostate orgasm can really make you appreciate the world a little better.

You see each other a lot outside of work now, too. Usually he feels like the little dates you go on are extended foreplay, where you can run your foot up and down his leg and press your toes into his dick, but sometimes he has to admit he just likes going out with you. You’re a quick wit, whip-smart, and fucking filthy. You’re wasted on going out with that pathetic asshole, you really are.

And one night the two of you are working late, again. You’ve both ordered Chinese takeout from down the street, and have found yourselves distracted. Not with sex, not with arguing, but with trying to fling battered chicken balls into each others’ mouths across the length of the office. You’re in literal tears as Roland tries to wheel his chair into the chicken’s oncoming trajectory only to lose his balance and tumble out of it, landing miserably on his ass.

You can’t breathe. You grip the edge of the desk for support, tears streaming down your cheeks, the long line of your beautiful throat exposed as you throw your head back laughing, and Roland finds himself fucking enamoured with you. He wants to hear your laugh all day, every day, forever, actually. He wants to go home tonight knowing his is the only cock you have inside you. Fuck it if that’s possessive, he’ll promise the same thing if it means you’ll be only his.

He’s fucked.

He’s so fucked.

Roland Blum hates you.

Except he doesn’t really. He just has to tell himself that, or he’ll realise he’s fucking fallen in love.

[acute-crashout-jeyuso]

Sacrifices/BTR Book 2: a Jhea fanfic.

Chapter 2: this is the shit we have to get away from..

January 6th, 2025 2:21 PM

After what felt like an eternity, the veterinarian finally emerged from the back room, a serious expression on her face. Rhea’s heart raced as she and Jey stood up, anxious for news about Barry.

“Is he okay?” Rhea asked, her voice trembling.

The vet took a deep breath, clearly weighing her words. “I’m afraid Barry has ingested chocolate. Depending on the amount and type, it can be very dangerous for dogs.”

Rhea’s heart sank. “What do you mean? Is he going to be alright?”

The veterinarian nodded but continued, “It depends on how quickly we acted. Chocolate contains theobromine, which can be toxic to dogs. It affects their central nervous system and can cause increased heart rate, tremors, and in severe cases, seizures or even death.”

Rhea felt her stomach drop. “What did you do for him?”

“We induced vomiting as soon as he arrived. We then administered activated charcoal to prevent further absorption of the chocolate into his system. Barry is stable now, but we need to keep him here for observation for the next day to monitor his heart rate and any potential complications,” the vet explained, her tone professional yet compassionate.

“Will he be okay?” Jey asked, his brow furrowed with concern.

“Yes, as long as we caught it early enough, he should recover. However, chocolate can remain in a dog’s system for several hours, and we want to be sure there are no lasting effects,” the vet reassured them.

Rhea let out a shaky breath, relief washing over her but still mingled with anxiety. “Can we see him?”

“Of course,” the vet replied. “Just keep in mind that he might be a little groggy from the medications we gave him. Follow me.”

As they walked down the hallway, Rhea squeezed Jey’s hand tightly. They entered a small room where Barry lay on a padded bed, looking a bit dazed but alive. Rhea rushed to his side, kneeling beside him. “Hey, buddy,” she whispered, her heart aching at the sight of him. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”

Barry lifted his head slightly, his big brown eyes finding Rhea’s. He whimpered softly, and she gently stroked his fur, feeling the warmth of his body beneath her hand.

“He’s a tough little guy,” Jey said, crouching down next to Rhea. “You scared us, buddy.”

The vet smiled softly, observing their bond with Barry. “He’s in good hands with you two. We’ll keep monitoring him, and I’ll check in periodically to give you updates.”

“Thank you so much,” Rhea said, her voice filled with gratitude. “We appreciate everything you’ve done.”

As they sat beside Barry, Rhea couldn’t help but think how close she had come to losing him. “I promise I’ll be more careful,” she said, her eyes welling up with tears. “You’re my baby, Barry.”

Jey wrapped an arm around Rhea, pulling her close as they watched Barry settle back into a peaceful sleep, relief slowly washing over them. For now, their family was intact, and that was all that mattered.

—

The drive home felt heavier than usual, the weight of the day pressing down on both Rhea and Jey. As they pulled into the driveway, Rhea couldn’t shake the feeling of unease that had settled in her stomach. “Do you think it was the person who messed up my Jeep?” she asked quietly, her voice laced with concern.

Jey shook his head, trying to remain optimistic despite the uncertainty. “I don’t know, babe. But I’m just glad we’re moving out of Pensacola. It’s time for a fresh start.”

Rhea nodded in agreement, grateful for Jey’s unwavering support. As they approached their home, she felt the familiar comfort of their space beckoning her. She walked in first, her heart heavy, and headed straight to the bedroom, needing a moment to collect herself.

Jey stood at the door for a moment, feeling a pang of sorrow as he saw Rhea so visibly hurt. It pained him to know that she was going through so much. After locking the door behind him, he followed her into the room. Rhea was curled up on their bed, a pillow clutched tightly to her chest, her back turned away from him. Bella, Luna, and Storm watched from a distance, their eyes filled with worry for their owner.

Jey closed the door softly and climbed into bed beside her. “Hey, it’s okay,” he murmured, trying to reassure her. Rhea turned to him, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears.

“I just want everything to stop,” she admitted, her voice breaking.

Jey sighed deeply, wishing he could take away her pain. “I want that too,” he said softly, wrapping his arms around her.

Rhea nestled into him, her tears spilling onto his shirt as she cried. “I’m just so tired of some people ruining my happiness,” she confessed, her voice muffled against him.

“Stay strong, baby,” Jey whispered, his heart aching for her. “We’ll get through this together. You’re not alone. I’m right here with you.”

As Rhea cried, Jey held her tightly, wishing he could shield her from all the hurt and negativity that surrounded them. In that moment, all he wanted was to create a safe space for her, to remind her that love and support were always within reach. He stroked her hair gently, whispering words of comfort, hoping to ease the turmoil in her heart.

The room was quiet except for Rhea’s soft cries and the gentle rustle of the dogs settling around them. Jey felt a sense of determination wash over him; he would do everything in his power to protect Rhea and their growing family. No matter what challenges lay ahead, they would face them together.

—

Jey slipped from Rhea’s grasp as she cried herself to sleep, his heart aching for her. He knew he had to take action to protect her and their family. After quietly locking the bedroom door behind him, he grabbed his keys and made his way to the garage. Climbing into his Mercedes, he typed in the nearest firearm store, Jim’s Firearms, and hit search.

As he approached the store, the cashier perked up at the sight of none other than Main Event Jey Uso walking through the door. “Hey, man! What brings you in?” the cashier greeted, clearly excited to see the wrestling star.

Jey nodded, keeping his demeanor serious. “I want to start the process to own and carry a firearm in Florida,” he stated, his voice steady.

The cashier’s expression shifted from excitement to professionalism as he began walking Jey through the necessary steps. “You’ll need to fill out some paperwork, undergo a background check, and complete a safety course. It usually takes about two to four weeks to get your permit, depending on the volume of applications.”

Jey felt a sense of relief wash over him. He appreciated the clarity and straightforwardness of the process. “What about Connecticut?” he asked, curious about the laws in his new home state.

The cashier explained Connecticut’s regulations, detailing the stricter measures in place for gun ownership, including the necessity for a permit to carry. “You’ll need to submit an application for a pistol permit and provide a good reason for wanting to carry a firearm, which might include self-defense.”

Jey’s brow furrowed as he considered the implications. “Since I’m moving, how can I start Connecticut’s process?”

The cashier nodded, understanding the situation. “You can initiate the application from Florida. I’d recommend contacting the local police department in Connecticut where you’ll be living. They can provide you with the necessary forms and requirements. Just keep in mind, you’ll need to provide proof of residency once you move.”

Jey took a deep breath, appreciating the guidance. “Thanks, man. I really want to make sure my family is safe.”

“No problem at all, Jey. Just take your time with the process. It’s important to be informed and prepared.”

With a firm handshake and a few more details exchanged, Jey left the store feeling more empowered. He was determined to do whatever it took to protect Rhea and their future. As he drove home, he felt a renewed sense of purpose. He would ensure that no one would threaten their happiness again. Once back at the house, he quietly entered and checked on Rhea, finding her still peacefully asleep, the weight of the world momentarily lifted from her shoulders.

—

Jey leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to Rhea’s forehead to wake her. Her eyes fluttered open, and a soft smile spread across her face as she saw him. “Where’d you go?” she asked, her voice still thick with sleep.

Jey gave her a reassuring smile. “Just had to get some things taken care of,” he said, keeping his tone light and gentle.

Rhea’s smile faded, her face turning somber as she remembered Barry. “I miss him already,” she whispered, her voice laced with sadness.

Jey ran his fingers through her hair, softly rubbing her temple. “He’ll be back tomorrow, baby,” he assured her, his voice filled with warmth and comfort. “They’re just keeping him for observation to make sure he’s okay.”

Rhea nodded, her eyes glistening as she held onto Jey’s comforting presence. He leaned down, planting a tender kiss on her forehead, his hand resting gently on her shoulder.

“Try not to stress too much,” Jey whispered, his thumb brushing softly against her cheek. “Barry’s a tough little guy, just like his mom.” He gave her a small, reassuring smile, hoping to lift her spirits.

Rhea let out a small laugh, nodding as she let herself relax back into the pillows. Jey stayed by her side, his hand resting on her shoulder, offering silent support. They sat together in the quiet, both taking a moment to breathe and find peace in each other’s presence.

Rhea broke the silence, her voice soft but with a hint of playful demand. “Can you cook? I don’t feel like cooking.”

Jey nodded immediately. “Anything you want, baby.”

She thought for a moment, then her eyes lit up. “I want some fried Cajun chicken bites, with macaroni and cheese… and fried pickles,” she said, her smile growing.

Jey chuckled, shaking his head. “Well, looks like we’re making a trip to Kroger, then,” he said with a grin.

Rhea’s eyes brightened, and she managed a small, genuine smile. “And then we could do a Fast and Furious movie marathon?”

Jey grinned, nodding. “Why not? Let’s make a night of it.”

Rhea got up slowly, pulling on her oversized hoodie for warmth. Jey reached out, taking her hand as they headed downstairs together, both of them ready to turn the night around and make the most of it.

As they left the house, Rhea felt a bit of the weight lift, her spirits raised just by Jey’s presence and the promise of a cozy night in with good food and a beloved movie series. They climbed into Jey’s Mercedes and made their way to Kroger, ready to stock up for their little feast.

The day felt lighter as they wandered the aisles together, gathering ingredients and sharing laughs over Jey’s jokes and Rhea’s commentary on the best Fast and Furious scenes. They were just two people in love, enjoying each other’s company, and finding joy in the simple things.

—

April 15, 2025 11:37 AM

“So, we have Stratton cash in on Morgan, and she becomes the new champion after Morgan retains her title from Bayley,” Rhea announced confidently to the group of writers gathered around the table.

Bruce leaned back, nodding thoughtfully. “And the finisher?”

Rhea grinned. “The Prettiest Moonsault Ever.”

The room murmured in agreement, and the plan was set. Just as Rhea turned to write something on the board, a sudden, intense kick hit her belly, causing her to gasp softly. She placed a hand on her stomach to steady herself.

“Sorry, guys. Baby is already practicing his superkicks,” she joked, eliciting laughter from the room.

At that moment, an assistant poked their head through the door. “Excuse me, Rhea. Hunter wants to see you in his office.”

Bruce nodded, signaling Rhea to go, and took over the meeting. Rhea gathered her things and made her way down the hall, feeling a bit of curiosity mix with excitement. She knocked on the door and heard a familiar voice call, “Come in.”

Rhea entered and saw Hunter sitting behind his desk, typing away on his laptop. As soon as he noticed her, he stood up and walked over with a big smile.

“My Eradicator!” he greeted, using her old nickname.

She chuckled. “You wanted to see me?”

Hunter motioned for her to sit down. “First off, how’s the baby boy?”

Rhea placed a hand on her belly. “He’s kicking up a storm, and he’s already two pounds—about a pound more than what he’s supposed to be, but he’s healthy.”

Hunter grinned. “That’s what I like to hear. Did you get my baby shower gift? Stephanie should have dropped it off.”

Rhea smiled, nodding. “Yes, Jaciyah got it and set it up in the nursery. The black mini dresser is perfect.”

Hunter leaned back, his expression turning more serious. “I made a quick stop here in Stamford because I wanted to inform you of something important.”

Rhea’s curiosity piqued. “What is it?”

Hunter took a deep breath. “I’d like to invite you to be inducted into the WWE Hall of Fame.”

For a moment, Rhea was speechless, her heart racing. The Hall of Fame? She felt her emotions well up, barely able to contain her excitement. Hunter stood and opened his arms, pulling her into a warm hug.

“This is incredible,” she managed to say, her voice choked with emotion.

“You’ve earned it, Rhea. And you’ll be the last inductee,” Hunter added with a proud smile. “Who would you like to have induct you?”

Rhea thought for a moment, a soft smile forming on her lips. “Jey and Damian.”

Hunter nodded approvingly. “We’ll make it happen. I’ll see you in Vegas on Friday for the Hall of Fame and WrestleMania.”

Rhea left his office, her mind racing as she made her way back down the hallway.

As Rhea returned to her office, her hands shook with excitement, a rare giddiness surging through her veins. She sank into her chair, clutching her phone, and dialed Jey’s number with an urgency she hadn’t felt in a long time. It rang only twice before he picked up.

“Hey, baby,” Jey’s familiar voice brought an instant comfort, and yet her heart raced even faster.

“Jey,” she said, her voice cracking with barely-contained emotion. “I… I have the most amazing news.”

The seriousness in her tone immediately captured his attention. “What is it, babe? What happened?”

Rhea took a deep breath, steadying herself. “Hunter just told me… I’m being inducted into the Hall of Fame this Friday. I’m… I’m going to be in the Hall of Fame, Jey.”

There was a beat of silence as Jey absorbed her words, and then his voice came through, choked with pride. “Oh my god… baby. Are you… are you serious?”

Tears brimmed in her eyes. “Yes. He just asked me. I still… I can’t believe it. I never thought…”

Jey’s voice cracked, and she could feel his overwhelming emotion through the line. “Rhea, you… You’ve worked so damn hard. No one deserves this more than you. I… I can’t even tell you how proud I am.”

Rhea wiped at her eyes, laughing through her tears. “And… I asked him if you and Damian could induct me. I wanted you there with me, by my side.”

There was a brief silence, and then Jey’s voice came through, softer but filled with emotion. “Babe, I… I don’t even know what to say. I’d be honored, truly. Damian will be, too. You’re… You’re making history. I’m so damn lucky to be a part of it.”

She pressed a hand to her stomach, feeling the little kicks of their son, as if he knew something special was happening. “I just… I can’t believe it. Everything we’ve fought for, the nights where it felt like we’d never get here… This moment, it’s everything. It’s all I ever wanted.”

“You’ve given everything, Rhea,” he murmured, his voice thick. “And you’re still giving, every day, even with our little man kicking you non-stop. I’m in awe of you. And you’re not just doing this for yourself—you’re paving the way for so many others. This is bigger than all of us.”

Hearing the reverence in his voice, her heart swelled. “You don’t know how much that means to me, Jey. I had to tell you first… I couldn’t keep this from you. You’re my everything.”

“Baby… I wish I was there to hold you right now,” he whispered, and she could hear the emotion, raw and unfiltered, in his voice. “I am so, so proud of you. This is your legacy… our legacy. And our son… he’s gonna grow up knowing how incredible his mom is.”

She laughed, her voice breaking with joy. “I hope he kicks up a storm in the crowd on Friday. Maybe he’ll even recognize his mom’s voice up there.”

Jey let out a soft chuckle, but she could hear the tearful pride underneath. “He’ll be cheering for you in his own little way, just like I will. And when you stand on that stage, taking your place where you belong… I’ll be right there, holding your hand, showing the world how much you mean to me.”

They lingered in silence for a moment, letting the weight of it all settle, the depth of what this meant. “I love you, Jey,” she whispered, her voice full of gratitude, love, and something deeper—an unbreakable bond that transcended everything.

“I love you, Rhea. And this Friday, I’ll be there, every step of the way. This is your moment. You’ve earned it,” he replied, his voice laced with pride and devotion.

As they hung up, Rhea sat there, feeling the magnitude of everything they’d built together. This was more than a dream realized—it was a life they had crafted, full of love, resilience, and unbreakable strength. And this Friday, they would celebrate it all, together.

Rhea paged her assistant, her heart still racing from the news she had just received. “Can you help me find some dresses?” she asked when her assistant answered. “I need one for the Hall of Fame ceremony and something special for going out that night.”

“Of course! I’ll start looking right away,” her assistant replied with enthusiasm. As the line clicked off, Rhea leaned back in her chair, her gaze wandering to the wall adorned with framed memories of her time in WWE. Each photo represented a different chapter, a unique era that shaped her journey: the fierce debut, championship wins, and unforgettable rivalries.

She felt an overwhelming surge of emotion welling up inside her—a mix of pride, nostalgia, and the weight of everything she had sacrificed to reach this moment. She longed to cry, to release all the pent-up emotions swirling within her, but the tears had dried up, leaving her feeling both relieved and empty.

As she stared at the wall, she placed a hand on her belly, feeling a familiar flutter. Just then, a small kick reverberated against her palm, and her heart melted. “Hey there, little one,” she whispered softly, her voice filled with warmth. “You’re going to be a part of something incredible soon.”

In that moment, the weight of her achievements and the love she felt for her unborn son converged, reminding her why she fought so hard—to create a legacy not just for herself, but for him. The journey ahead might be daunting, but knowing he was with her made everything worthwhile.

Rhea closed her eyes, letting the warmth of the moment wash over her. She envisioned the Hall of Fame ceremony—the lights, the applause, and the feeling of finally being recognized for her hard work.

With a deep breath, Rhea opened her eyes and refocused on the task at hand. As her assistant was busy finding the perfect dresses, Rhea continued to allow herself a moment of quiet reflection, mentally preparing for the whirlwind ahead—a whirlwind filled with joy, love, and an undeniable sense of purpose.

—

Jey sat in front of his laptop, tapping his fingers anxiously against the desk as he waited for everyone to join the call. The screen flickered to life, one by one, the faces of his family and friends appeared. There was Damian and Kayden, Jon and Trinity, Liv and Dominik, Joseph and Almia, Joe and Galina, Finn and Carlito and JD, and finally, Cody.

“Alright, everyone’s here!” Jey announced, a hint of excitement in his voice. “Thanks for joining the call, but I know you’re all probably wondering why I called this meeting.”

Dominik, ever the curious one, chimed in first. “Yeah, what’s up, Jey? You’ve got us all on edge here.”

Jey took a deep breath, his heart racing with anticipation. “Rhea is going to be inducted into the Hall of Fame!”

Cheers erupted from the group, everyone expressing their surprise and excitement.

“Are you serious? That’s amazing!” Liv exclaimed, her eyes lighting up. “She totally deserves it!”

“Absolutely!” Jon agreed, nodding vigorously. “Rhea has worked so hard for this. It’s about damn time!”

Jey smiled, feeling the love and support radiate through the screen. “And there’s more,” he continued, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. “Does everyone have a tux and a dress? Because I’m about to book the Vegas wedding. I’m going to marry her right there and then!”

“What?” Trinity gasped, her hand covering her mouth in shock. “Are you serious?!”

Damian raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. “Are we still having the Samoan wedding? I just booked my tickets.”

Liv added quickly, “Yeah, Dominik and I just RSVP’ed for that wedding too! What’s happening here?”

Jey laughed, trying to calm the growing excitement. “Yes, we’re still doing the Samoan wedding! But this wedding is going to be intimate, and it’s the perfect time. I want it to be a surprise for Rhea.”

“Man, you’re full of surprises today!” Joe chuckled. “I can’t believe you’re doing this. It’s going to be epic!”

“Just think about it,” Finn chimed in. “You’ll get to say your vows in Las Vegas before the Hall of Fame. That’s a memory you both will cherish forever.”

“Exactly!” Jey agreed, his heart swelling with happiness. “I’ll email everyone the details, but please, don’t mention it to Rhea. This is supposed to be a surprise!”

“Don’t worry, we won’t spill a word,” Almia promised, a gleeful smile on her face.

“Just make sure you get a killer tux, Jey,” Cody advised with a playful wink. “You want to look your best when you marry her.”

“Trust me, I will,” Jey replied, feeling more excited by the second. “Thanks, everyone. I can’t wait to see you all there. This is going to be one unforgettable day!”

As the meeting continued, laughter and chatter filled the virtual room, all centered around the joy of Rhea’s induction and the spontaneous wedding that was about to unfold. Jey felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude for his family, knowing that together they would make this moment special for Rhea—a day filled with love, support, and unforgettable memories.

—

Flashback: January 8th, 2025 11:31 AM

Rhea and Jey sat in the comfortable yet clinical atmosphere of Rhea’s therapist’s office, the faint sound of ticking clocks filling the silence. Rhea fidgeted with her hands in her lap, glancing at Jey, who sat beside her, his expression a mixture of determination and concern.

Jey broke the silence first, his voice steady but laced with vulnerability. “I really am just only doing this for Rhea.” He looked at the therapist, trying to convey the weight of the words he had spoken. “I want her to know I’m here for her, no matter what.”

The therapist, a middle-aged woman with kind eyes, nodded understandingly. “That’s a good start, Jey. Couples counseling is a safe space for both of you to express your feelings and concerns. It’s not just about addressing the challenges you’re facing but also about strengthening your bond.”

Rhea shifted slightly in her seat, her eyes downcast. She felt a lump form in her throat, a swirl of emotions threatening to spill over. The therapist continued, “Both of you have been through significant challenges in your lives. Jey, your injury, and the pressures that come with your career. Rhea, your pregnancy and the emotional toll it can take. It’s important to recognize that you’re both navigating a lot right now.”

“Yeah, it’s just… sometimes it feels like we’re carrying the weight of the world on our shoulders,” Jey admitted, running a hand through his hair. “I want to be strong for her, but it gets overwhelming.”

Rhea finally found the courage to speak. “I’ve been feeling lost lately,” she confessed, her voice trembling. “I want to be the best partner and soon-to-be mother, but everything just feels… heavy. I don’t want to drag him down with my struggles.”

The therapist leaned forward, her tone gentle yet firm. “It’s okay to feel that way, Rhea. It’s important to share that burden, rather than trying to carry it alone. Jey wants to support you, and by talking about your feelings here, you can both learn how to lean on each other more effectively.”

Jey reached over and took Rhea’s hand in his, squeezing it reassuringly. “We’re in this together, babe. I promise you that.”

Rhea looked up, meeting his gaze, and a small smile broke through her somber expression. “I know. It’s just hard to let go sometimes.”

The therapist smiled at the exchange. “That’s the first step, Rhea. Acknowledging your feelings is essential. Together, we can work on communication and understanding each other’s needs better.”

The therapist leaned back in her chair, her eyes focused on Rhea. “I wanted to ask about your dog, Barry. I know there was a lot of stress surrounding his health. How is he doing now?”

Rhea sighed, relief washing over her. “Barry is doing fine. He’s back home and recovering well. I’m just glad he’s okay.”

The therapist nodded, then turned her gaze to Rhea, sensing the weight of unspoken fears. “I remember you mentioned feeling like someone is after you. Can you share more about that?”

Before Rhea could respond, Jey spoke up, his voice filled with a protective intensity. “It’s been a lot lately. Rhea’s Jeep tires were slashed, and someone put sugar in her gas tank. They also tried to mess with my Mercedes, but our neighbor stopped them just in time.” He looked at Rhea, his expression a mixture of frustration and concern. “It feels like someone is determined to ruin our lives.”

The therapist took a deep breath, processing the information. “I understand that must be incredibly unsettling for both of you. But I want to reassure you, Matthew is currently being held without bail. He can’t hurt you anymore.”

Jey frowned, the tension in his body rising. “Then why is all of this still happening? Why can’t we just live our lives in peace?”

Instead of answering his question, the therapist turned to Jey, probing deeper. “Are you scared, Jey? With everything that’s happened?”

“Hell no,” Jey replied defiantly, crossing his arms. “Just the other day, I applied to buy a gun. I’m not scared of anything. I’m just trying to protect my family.”

“Are you scared that Rhea might get attacked again?” the therapist pressed gently. “That you might lose the baby again?”

Jey’s face turned stormy. He stood up abruptly, anger flaring. “You’re going too far now. Don’t twist my words like that.”

The therapist maintained her calm demeanor. “I’m just trying to understand how the shooting has affected you. Has it opened up any anger or unresolved feelings?”

“I don’t have to listen to this shit,” Jey snapped, turning on his heel and storming out of the office.

“Jey!” Rhea called after him, her heart racing as she hurried to follow. She caught up with him just outside, the cool air prickling against her skin. “Wait, please. I just want to talk—”

“This shit will not work!” Jey shot back, frustration boiling over. “I thought we’ve already accepted that Julie is dead and there’s no way of bringing her back. Why are we still discussing this?”

“I’m trying to move past it, Jey!” Rhea pleaded, her voice breaking as tears began to spill. “I need you to be here with me, not pushing me away!”

“Julie even said it herself. Why the fuck are you still continuing to think of this?” Jey’s voice was sharp, each word laced with raw emotion.

Rhea wiped her tears, feeling crushed by the weight of his words. “You’re supposed to be there for me, not tearing me down!”

“Get in the car,” Jey ordered, exasperation filling his tone. “Let’s go home. I’m not going to argue with you right here.”

With her heart pounding and a sense of defeat washing over her, Rhea turned away from him, her shoulders shaking as she climbed into the passenger seat of Jey’s Mercedes. She couldn’t bring herself to look at him as he got in, the silence between them heavy. The car felt suffocating as they sat in it, the weight of their unspoken fears and unresolved pain hanging in the air.

—

Rhea and Jey stepped out of the car, the tension still thick like rubber in the air. As Jey opened the front door, he watched Rhea walk past him, her silence echoing the weight of unspoken words. He rubbed his temples, feeling the pressure building behind his eyes as he locked the door behind them.

He made his way to their bedroom, the familiar space now feeling foreign. He reached for the doorknob, a sense of dread settling in his stomach. “Rhea,” he called out softly, trying to keep his voice steady. “Can we talk?”

“Go away,” she replied, her voice muffled through the closed door.

Jey sighed, frustration mixing with concern. “I was stupid. Please open the door, babe. I’m really sorry.”

Silence stretched on, thick and suffocating, before Rhea finally responded, her voice laced with hurt. “Just go away, please.”

“Why do you want me to admit that I’m scared?” Jey pressed, feeling the heat of anger and worry bubbling beneath the surface. “I’m trying to be strong for both of us.”

“Because you don’t love me!” Rhea shot back, her words sharp enough to cut through the tension.

Jey felt his heart drop at her statement. “If I didn’t love you, I wouldn’t be here,” he said, trying to keep his voice calm despite the turmoil inside. “If I didn’t love you, I wouldn’t do anything for you.”

“Then why can’t you try counseling for us?” she asked, her tone softening but still tinged with desperation. “Why can’t you just talk to someone?”

“Because I don’t want to keep bringing up old shit!” Jey exclaimed, the words spilling out before he could catch himself. He ran a hand through his hair, frustration palpable. “I’m tired of it, Rhea! I thought we were moving forward.”

“But we’re not,” Rhea replied, her voice trembling. “Every time we take a step forward, something pulls us back. We can’t keep ignoring what happened. It’s not just going to disappear.”

Jey leaned against the door, his back pressed against the cool wood. “I know that, but I don’t want to relive it. I want to focus on us, on what we have now.”

“We can’t do that if we don’t deal with the past!” Rhea’s voice cracked, and Jey could hear the tears threatening to spill. “I’m scared, Jey. Scared that if we don’t talk about it, it’s going to eat us alive.”

Jey closed his eyes for a moment, the weight of her words sinking in. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. “I don’t want to lose you,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. “I just want to protect you.”

Rhea opened the door slowly, her eyes red and puffy. “I need you to be honest with me,” she said softly, her gaze searching his. “Please.”

Jey nodded, feeling the crack in his resolve. “Okay.. I’ll go to counseling if that’s what you want. But only if we can promise to work through it together.”

Rhea stepped closer, her eyes filling with tears. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice trembling with relief.

Jey reached out, pulling her into his arms. “We’ll figure this out, I promise,” he murmured into her hair, holding her tight as they both stood in the aftermath of their fears, ready to face whatever came next—together.

[13eyond13]

💫🌔10 Griffguts Fic Recs🌔💫

So I'm not even close to done looking through this ship tag yet, but here are a handful of fic recs that I've come across so far:

Snowmelt by bthump (rated T, one-shot, 10k words) - first fic I read for this pairing, and it's so lovely and in-character and understated and heartwarming

The Painted Stage by alovelyburn (not rated, one-shot, 13k words) - so interesting and surprising in certain ways that you might need to read it twice

oil, sweat, and cinder by applecrumbledore (rated E, 2/2 chapters, 9k words) - this one might be my favourite so far, it just feels so quintessentially Berserk in flavour and tone to me. I like that the stranger and darker sides of the characters and the canon universe are not shied away from being referred to here (which actually seems quite rare to find done interestingly in Berserk fics)

the things we say to others by applecrumbledore (rated T, one-shot, 3k words) - I just love how this writer writes Griffith especially! A pair of fascinating conversations to eavesdrop on here...

Enraptured by suggestivescribe (rated E, one-shot, 5k words) Smut in a tent! What more could you want?

Chain of Dissent by beansterpie (rated M, 5/? chapters, 43k words) - The beginnings of a sweet and comforting slowburn that explores what else maybe might've been had they actually just talked it out and taken their time realizing how they feel about each other before doing anything too rash. Big fan of the "Griffith teaching Guts how to read" moments especially!

Sucker Punch by Enisy (rated M, one-shot, 8k words) - AU where Guts is a boxer and Griffith is his trainer. I thought it was so beautifully and uniquely written, and I especially appreciated it since AU fics seem to be pretty rare in this fandom, too

a clean slate by cainight (rated T, one-shot, 1.9k words) - creepiest cuddling ever

From His Lips by rayfalke (rated T, 3/3 chapters, 3k words) - cute lil kisses of various sorts

A Thousand Golden Fragments by spacetrashdelux (not rated, 2/? chapters, 1.6k words) - soft and sweet, and still believable to boot!

[vhstown]

writing neutral readers; a guide

(neutral = unspecified gender, race, appearance, etc.)

hi hi here's vee, the one of (hopefully) many neutral fic writers for atsv, showing YOU how to write a neutral reader for your character x reader fic!!!!

this is mainly about romantic x reader fics!!

lil disclaimer: you don't have to write neutral readers if you don't want to! this is just for people who do and might want some advice :) all of these are what works for me — there are plenty of ways to write a neutral reader!

contents page for your sanity:

avoiding white-coding

being gender-neutral

re-direction / re-phrasing

my general thoughts and opinions

before we get started: why are neutral readers great?

inclusivity! a lot of the times it can be hard to find a fic right for you especially if they tend to be for a certain demographic

forces you to think outside of the box — you can't rely on describing the reader, so you have to describe character interactions more creatively (as you'll see me try to do a lot in this post 😭)

helps with immersion! a lot of the time overly-descriptive reader inserts can make it hard to... actually insert yourself into them

your fics can reach a lot more people if they're neutral (though this is just an added bonus lol)

some colour-coding for your wellbeing: blue = general advice + examples, pink = my personal input

1. avoiding white-coding

this is a big point i'd like to address first because it doesn't get talked about enough! and all of this is in reference to a post i saw like a week ago lmao

i haven't seen this term being used a lot but the general idea is when a piece of writing is catered towards a white reader (usually implied through description)

this is usually done unintentionally but avoiding white coding is an important part of writing totally neutrally!

general things to avoid

describing physical attributes such as hair + skin tone

for example describing hair as silky/smooth implies that it is straight + excludes the majority of other hair types / styles etc

also things like running your fingers through your hair can be impractical w certain hairstyles

i tend to just avoid hair in general ? if you want you can focus on other gestures (hand holding, cupping readers face or sumn)

or just reverse the roles entirely and have reader do the comforting gestures to the canon character

skin tone is definitely more subtle however it can be implied especially through things like blushing

people with darker skin tones DO blush, but it generally tends to be less visible or not at all

instead i tend to describe the feeling rather than the outward changes (face getting warm, getting flustered, heart rate increasing, sweating, stuttering etc)

2. being gender-neutral

okay this admittedly can be difficult to write sometimes

the general rule for a gender neutral reader is to avoid referring to the reader as male or female AND any physical description specific to a certain sex

gendered terms

some people like to use they/them when reader is referred to by other characters

instead of boyfriend/girlfriend you can use partner

i personally don't do these things as you'll see in my next point about re-direction!

there are PLENTY of gender neutral pet names in english

for languages like spanish which have masc and fem versions of words i tend to use nouns (usually non-living or abstract) which have a set gender (such as my heart, my love, etc — one of my favourites is cariño (darling) because it doesn't change based on gender)

though again i rarely write terms of endearment in other languages so i suggest you do your research!

physical terms (sfw only)

also for body inclusivity

again this mainly to try and avoid implying fem!reader but also body types just a tiny little bit

i tend to avoid mentioning body shape but if i do then i use something vague like "shape of your body" rather than "curves" or anything specific

you can just write down the body part without describing it physically (chest, waist thighs, etc)

eyelashes are ... unisex! no way!

you might want to avoid makeup but this is just a *general* suggestion

i tend to NOT describing clothing choices unless it's relevant to the premise of the fic — usually vague references like your school uniform, pajamas, shoes, favourite shirt, etc

you can also cheat this if reader is wearing the other character's clothes 😭 next point re-direction WOOO

3. re-direction / re-phrasing

(a personal choice of mine + totally optional)

re-direction is when you change the focus of a sentence in order to get rid of any words descriptions that may take away from the neutrality of the reader (as you see me talking about in the little pink text everywhere or in the little suggestions in blue)

Re-direction can be used for anything! I think there's a book that exists that uses no words with the letter e and a book that uses no pronouns at all (but don't ask me what they are because I have no clue)

It's not particularly easy or straightforward all the time and you might have to change more than one sentence but re-phrasing your writing can be a good challenge! (if you choose to do so)

for me i tend to re-direct to avoid using any sort of third person pronouns (he/she/they etc) or gendered terms and to avoid using insert tags like y/n

example on pronouns & gendered terms

for pronouns i usually change "he/she/they" to "you" or a noun

"She's not welcome here" could become "Your friend isn't welcome here"

Or the sentence may change entirely to convey the same meaning. The woman turned to you, speaking one simple command: "Get out."

I also tend to use more masc / neutral terms in casual settings like "dude" or "bro"

I also avoid the use of "partner" (though this is just nit-picky) ex. "Is this your partner?" might become "Oh, [character] talks about you all the time!" (entirely dependent on context and if you care enough lol — one of the less clear-cut redirections)

while you could obviously use they in this scenario i personally don't out of preference (to me they/them is an nb set of pronouns if the gender isn't ambiguous and blah blah blah) but it doesn't really matter

example on insert tags

"(Y/N), wait!" can become "Hey, wait!"

Or you could use "your name" rather than a placeholder. He called your name, running behind you. "Wait!"

like i mentioned before things like clothes and favourite foods all tend to revolve around the character rather than the reader. in a lot of cases writing about the foods the character likes or wearing the clothes the character owns can actually be more immersive than inserting your personal preferences into a pair of brackets (in my experience at least)

4. general thoughts and opinions

one big thing i wanted to point out is that it's actually good for your writing to "ban" yourself from using certain terms and descriptions. i find that i focus a lot more on describing events, emotions and character interactions rather than being caught up on the reader.

fem!reader and masc!reader are GREAT too! amazing beautiful wonderful keep writing those — but i think gender neutral readers help to avoid a lot of biases that might (albeit unintentionally) come with a specific gender

and being inclusive for all kinds of readers when you're writing a neutral reader is so important!

to conclude

if you exclusively write one type of reader that is absolutely fine :) write what you want and be happy doing it

neutral readers are GREAT but so difficult to write so pls don't worry if u mess up sometimes 👍

i am still figuring out ways to make my writing more inclusive and i wouldn't know without other people's input! so please feel free to drop ur personal gripes or advice

this post is subject to edits (cuz i always forget to add something and it is very ranty spammy random lol)

this post can be found in the "favourite posts" section of my navigation (pinned)!

reblogs r appreciated if u found it useful <3

[hedghost]

A Comprehensive Rating of all The New Nike Kits that Literally No One Asked Me For:

starting off strong with England:

listen when i first saw this i was like hmm okay 😐, then i saw it on the players and i was like hmmm okayyyyy 💅💅

home is clean, classic - i like it. collar is a choice but i think it works, sleeves are nice, retro kits slay always - 8/10

controversial but purple as a colour in general sucks. however, i would barely call this away kit purple, the charcoal vibe is actually fucking sexy. it’s almost a grey kit, and a grey kit is almost a black kit, and i love black kits. love the pattern down the side, love the gold, my only reservation is that it looks like a training kit (specifically that ugly purple kit the lionesses had a few years ago) - 7.5/10

special shout-out to that eyesore of a goalie kit, i absolutely fucking love it

——

now Portugal is a serving us a game of two halves:

the home is… a kit. it’s nice, it’s clean, but it literally could not be less forgettable. it’s fine - 5/10

the away on the other hand - masterpiece. that pattern is actually gorgeous, colours are so cute, and it’s actually unique! love when kits have nods to culture/history- 10/10, stunning

——

United States - yea girl give us nothing!

listen the home is fine. but one word springs to mind and that word is boring. where’s the flavour? the flag collar saves it - 6/10

the away is absolutely vile i fucking hate that- 1/10

—-

France said how big can we possibly make our badge:

again home is fine. it’s nothing special, it’s clean, it’s whatever, it’s a home kit. i’m bored. however both kits suffer from the ailment of that absolute fucking monster chicken. why is it so huge - 5/10

the away is nicer. pinstripe is nothing to write home about, but at least there’s a little something something going on. again, the chicken is hard to get past - 6.5/10

—-

Canada gave us the classics

these are both nice kits. the home is proof that nike do know how to make plain kits that don’t look like they just stuck a badge on a primark t-shirt. simple done well - 8/10

again, the away is simple but effective. does look a bit like an exercise book, but that’s fine. sleek, classy, it’s a decent kit - 7/10

—-

Brazil proves once again that they know the meaning of cool:

listen, when the colour scheme of your team is yellow and green, you just have to commit to garish. this kit is an eyesore in a good way. this is not a great picture of the pattern but let me tell you it’s gorgeous. i’m not sure about this weird collar though, it looks fine on some of these other kits but idk it’s just not doing it for me here - 8/10

again, this away pattern is hurting my eyes just looking at it, but i like it a lot. makes me wanna go to the beach. brazil knows who they are, and you will know about it. nice colour, bit of fun! more fun kits please! - 7.5/10

—-

just like it’s football team, Poland’s kits are pretty forgettable:

yeah sorry poland i really don’t know what to tell you here, it’s just really fucking dull. the collar does look nice here, but other than that it’s really not saying much - 4/10

again, not much to say. this does have a bit of a cross stitch pattern which i quite like, but other than that it’s average. normally i like a centred badge but here it just looks like weird. think it’s too big. sorry poland - 5.5/10

—-

sorry Turkey, the only thing worse than boring, is being boring and ugly:

this away shirt makes polands kit look like the sistine chapel. i can’t even comment because there is absolutely nothing going on - 3/10

and yet somehow… the home kit is worse. i will never be a fan of a block stripe across the chest. the centred badge might have worked if it didn’t have a circle around it. boring and ugly - 2/10

—-

meanwhile, South Korea blew it out the fucking water!

now this is how you make a kit! take notes turkey! this home kit is literally beautiful. colour is stunning, pattern is gorgeous! 11/10 no notes

and it doesn’t stop there! black kits are stunning anyway, but this?! i adore it. so fun, so sleek. - 10/10

—-

The Netherlands just couldn’t really be arsed:

i fucking hate this. orange kits done well are beautiful, and this is neither one of those things. at least the players will be up to code if they visit a construction site. the colour is quite literally named ‘safety orange’ - 2/10

the away kit is alright. i quite like it, the patterns decent. the colours are nice. it does look a bit like a bus seat though. - 5.5/10

—-

China took the stripped back approach :

these aren’t my favourites, but they are nice. the home is classic, nothing fancy, but it’s smooth, it’s sleek, it’s smart. the sleeves are a nice touch - 6.5/10

the same goes for the away. not as nice as the red, but it’s cool. i like it. - 6/10

—-

Norway forgot which continent they’re from:

now i’m aware the home kit is unpopular, but i actually like it. idk it’s something different, it’s a smart little pattern, centred badge looks good - i’m a fan. i like when countries incorporate their flags into their shirt. it is, however, the flag of thailand. - 7/10

this is a nice away kit. it’s giving fjords, it’s giving glaciers, it’s giving norway. reminds me of the adidas wwc kits, and we all know how nice those were. - 9/10

—-

Nigeria only knows how to serve cunt!

this is nice. it’s giving me like early noughties vibes, with the font and the tick, and i’m a fan. i’ve never seen a bad green and white kit. well played nigeria, well played. - 8/10

i love black kits. i love green kits. i love patterned kits. and i love this kit. it’s a sick pattern, and it’s just gorgeous. good job - 10/10

—-

Croatia is… also here:

yeah croatia what the fuck is this? this home kit is absolutely atrocious. boring and ugly - 3/10

i honestly don’t know if the away is better or worse. just because you can, doesn’t mean you should. i don’t know, it’s alright. weird - 4/10

[zippykinky]

Today, I figured I’ve gone unstuffed long enough and decided to stuff myself!

I ate:

-A big bowl of soup

-Meatloaf and potatoes

-A bunch of cheese curds

-2 473 non-alcoholic beers

-And a quarter of a sugar pie

I had not eaten anything since this morning, so I was REALLY hungry >_<

After the soup and meatloaf, I felt…unusually full. Perhaps it filled me up more than I thought. Maybe I ate too fast and got bloated. Oh well. I decided to push through anyway to the cheese curds and beer :3

I had barely drank a quarter of my beer and took a few bites of my cheese that…well let’s just say I felt extremely packed 😅

It might not seem that different from before, but it definitely felt fuller.

I was wondering if I would be able to drink and eat everything and the sugar pie, too 😳

At any rate, I pushed on!

I still felt really bloated about halfway through the first beer… I began to wonder how bloated I would look after all this…

Ah well.

It was time to finish the cheese and the 2nd beer! >:3

I. FELT. PACKED.

I had never felt that huge just by eating and drinking beer. Holy heck. I felt like I would explode >_<

And there was still the quarter of a sugar pie to go through…

At that point, I took a small break. I needed to let my poor stomach deal with all this.

Did I mention I never burped throughout all of this? So yeah! It was very tight lol

Finally, after hours, I was done…phew. It was…quite full, to put it mildly. This is after the pie, although ofc given how big I was it doesn’t make a visual difference lol

I definitely would of appreciated a big belly rub, because I sure as hell needed one 😳