#okay this is funny I can feel exactly where the pain was coming from with my middle finger because it's still not relaxing with the old mou

[onewomancitadel]

I got one of those ergonomic computer mice that are supposed to be better because your arm isn't tensed using them but I've had intense pain (and subsequent migraine) because of it. I feel like it's probably because it ended up being too large for my hands they said it was small so now I've gone back to using my old and faithful.

[obsessedhoneycomb]

Heating pads

Max Verstappen x fem!reader

Summary: Your good time in Portimao being interrupted by your endo flare up again.

Warnings: endometriosis, cramps, love and care, infertility and baby talk

A/N: Wrote this last night and I poured into it some of my personal experience with endo, more this time. Surgery worked a little for me, it gave me a three months without cramps. Every body is different, every treatment works differently for us. But we’re in this together, endo sisters!

For @amberjazmyn 🧡

Don’t use my writings without my permission! Pictures found on Pinterest.

———

The weather at Portimao circuit wasn’t so pleasant as it was nearing the end of the year. F1 season was long gone and Max was able to finally avert his attention to his other hobbies (not gonna mention it’s still racing, but for his kinda own team).

Meeting with all the people around Verstappen.com Racing was a great one, especially with Thierry Vermeulen, because he was so funny, but humble at the same time.

You were always amazed how Max was so good at handling his many duties and hobbies at the same time. He was a great mentor, passing his legacy and wisdom and you watched how his temper calmed down a little through the years.

It wasn’t long ago when you moved to his apartment at Monaco, making your relationship more official after three years of being there and nowhere, between your job and his races. One day you decided enough is enough and you didn’t want to face your life alone anymore. That stirred some rumours through his fan base and also your parents weren’t able to hold back in their questions about you two starting a family. Truth was that you and Max weren’t exactly against having children, but the main problem was your endometriosis. Severe pain episodes, ending in ER may times, being neglected by doctors, saying it’s only in your head and that you need to sleep it off. You thought, for so many years, that you’re just insane, but after Max got through one of your endo flare ups with you, he got you through many doctor appointments, to the best specialists in the field, where you finally heard your diagnosis.

The surgery date was set after the new year’s, when Max would be still around to help you get back on your feet and mend your wounds with his love and care. But to that date your body just decided that you need to suffer.

You stood in the garage, watching how Max talked with the engineers and Thierry about some issues, his yapping always getting more and more interesting, when you felt a cramp in your lower back. It wasn’t unusual, you always had similar, and you brushed it off as some kind of back pain, most likely from standing for too long.

Watching Max racing at the empty track was always fun, he gave it his all, enjoying his time and it made you genuinely smile. But now you were pale, your forehead getting a little sweaty, same as your whole body. Feeling the need to sit down, you understood immediately, when the pain shot through your abdomen, pooling at your right side, that stretching burning sensation ghosting to your lower back. Trying to play it cool, you swallowed hard, smiling at everybody around.

About two hours later, Max was done with the testing, leaving the car to Thierry and he went to look through some performance reports, when he spotted you sitting at the bench, having that weird expression on your face like you were trying so hard to hide something, but failing miserably.

“Hey, love.. are you okay?”

His hand went to your cheek and you quickly shot him a look full of pain. He knew that look, seeing it more frequently in past weeks.

“Come here.” Without further words, he grabbed your hand and led you through the corridors to your car outside, where you had your things. Sitting you in the backseat, he quickly went to the trunk, rummaging through his bag, coming back after a while with some packages.

“Max, it’s okay, I can manage it.” You tried to protest but he dismissed you.

“Let me take care of you, I’m prepared.” Sitting beside you at the backseat, he opened both packages, shaking the contents a little with an approving hum. Heating pads. Your eyes went wide with surprise, but then your face softened, your eyes nearly welled with tears.

Warming his hands with the pads a little, he carefully lifted up your hoodie along with your top, to get to your bare abdomen, placing one pad under the waistband of your pants and the other at your lower back. You were always taken aback, how he remembered the location of your pains, where it hurts the most. After he was sure he placed pads securely, he pulled down your top and hoodie.

“Does it feel good?” Cupping your cheek, he had a concern written all over his face and you just nodded. With soft hum, he wrapped his hands around you, getting you closer to his chest, holding you tight against him, making sure you’re comfortable.

“Thank you, Maxie..” your sweet murmur made him smile, your hands hugging his warm and huge body like a teddy bear, the heating pads bringing you comfort you needed.

“Anything for you, my love.. I would go to the end of the world if it meant for you to be in less pain.” Max kissed your temple softly, letting out a soft sigh.

“You’ve done so much for me in this case, I don’t know how I deserved this.”

“You deserve the world, darling. And those pains.. I would do anything to take it on myself instead of you. I hate to see you contorted by it. Packing those heating pads it’s less than I can do for you, to make it easier.”

“You really changed my life, Max.”

“Oh, baby. You changed mine. A lot. I wasn’t this happy like I am beside you. I never forget that moment you smiled at me at that coffee shop in London, because you absolutely stole my breath.”

You chuckled softly, but the slight shot of pain made you wince a little.

“Can you please rub my back a little? It helps also..”

Max just nodded, sneaking his hand under your top, his warm hand rubbing the heat into your skin slowly and gently, making you relax more.

“You know, when we bought this car back then, I thought that it will be different action we’ll be doing on the backseat..” his voice was laced with teasing, trying to make you smile.

“Well.. I thought so too, but I can’t even imagine doing it right now.”

“No, love, I didn’t mean it like that. You’re in discomfort and never in the right mind I would try to make a move on you like this.”

Max liked being intimate with you, your chemistry being something undeniable when you two got to bed, but he respected you and your body. He would rather not have sex with you for weeks than to cause you pain.

“I know, I know, sorry. But we can try after I’m healed from surgery. And there can be a little miracle after. Like we talked many times before. Little Verstappen tapping around.”

It was true happy smile he saw on your face in a while. His heart skipped a beat at the idea of having a baby with you.

“Sure, whatever makes you happy, love. And whatever doesn’t cause you pain.”

His soft lips kissing your nose in the most lovely way was something only you could see. To the world he was that unbeatable lion on the track, dominating champion. But with you he was a caring, loving boyfriend, who would die for you in every way possible.

[kimberly-spirits13]

Jason Todd During Your Period

Sweetest thing

Feels so bad that you feel bad and does anything humanly possible to alleviate the pain

He knows how to handle periods since he has all the batgirls and he had to take care of his mom when he was younger

He’s the kind of boyfriend where you can just be like “hey when is my next period?” And he’d know off the top of his head

Won’t blame you for any outbursts or anything and he tries his best to not annoy you

If you get nightmares or really funky dreams on your period that wake you up, he always wakes up to make sure you’re okay

Becomes a light sleeper during your period in anticipation that you wake up and need something or are basically dying

Specifically ordered you two of those massive heating pads and let’s you lay on top of him with them

One heating pad for the back and one stomach

It’s a miracle tool yall

It’s the kind of thing where you finally get settled and you cry because it’s so amazing

NOT BEING IN PAIN AND BEING ABLE TO SLEEP IS WONDERFUL

He’d feel so bad if that happened though because he’d realize how bad you really felt in the moment

He knew you were struggling but it always hurts him to see you in pain

Stocks up on pain killers

Makes you your favorite food and brings your favorite food home from patrol because let’s be honest

No girl is sleeping on her period without her comfort 🤚

He’ll take as many naps with you as you want and do a spa day

*face mask on and hair mask in* “no Dick I’m not on patrol tonight, I’m busy.” “

Knows exactly what to get at the store if you ask him since he had to get stuff for his mom

Will bring back chocolate or whatever your favorite snack is

Let’s be honest, chocolate gets boring after about a day

Holds you while you’re in pain

Makes sure to call you often when he’s on patrol go check in, especially if you’re benched from patrol for the week because of it

Is mostly calling for himself to make sure you’re not dying or anything

Gets medical advice from Alfred

Is genuinely afraid you’ll become anemic or something if he thinks you’re losing too much blood

You two are experts at getting blood out of things so don’t even worry about it

Let’s you wear all of his clothes and takes up doing the chores since you’re probably bloated and swelling

Kisses your cheek and forehead a lot if you’re not feeling well

Does anything you need to feel better

His guilty pleasure is when you’re on your period and are craving carbs because he really really loves carb loading but can’t do it often

Bagels, pasta, pizza, crackers, cinnamon rolls, anything carb

If you start running a fever he freaks out a bit but has enough experience to know you’re not dying

Puts an ice pack on your forehead and gets advil for you

Stocks up on ice cream if that’s your thing

Excuses himself and you from any galas and makes sure the paparazzi isn’t around

Probably threatens them or something who knows

Has one of his sisters come over to give you company if you need some girl time

If you want to you’ll 100% be welcomed to just sit in the bat cave during patrol and help monitor

The entire week or two is just Jason doting on you more than usual

He’d wrap you in a blanket burrito and carry you everywhere

Is very touchy when you don’t feel well so he latches himself onto you

Movie marathons

I watch Law and Order and lots of crime documentaries when I’m on my period for some reason and he’d 100% binge those

Has fuzzy socks for you

They’re probably funky colorful ones that he thought were funny and got them for you one day to cheer you up

Won’t let you talk bad about yourself

If you call yourself yuck or gross or fat or anything he’d smother you with his entire body

Not today Satan

Praises from him are the best let’s just keep it at that

[king-craftsman]

The SwapCraft Challenge

“Dude, have you heard of this Swap Craft challenge?”

In came Josh, sweaty and tired, probably just from the late shift again Bradley could imagine. They’ve been roommates for six months and if it wasn’t for the fact that the two had a great interest in Swap Craft, Bradley could barely even imagine that they’d get along at all, it was the only thing they talked about! Bradley got up from the couch.

“No, what is it?” He asked.

“It’s like this challenge where we link our accounts on SwapCraft and then get to change something physical and something mental about each other in turns. Whoever quits first loses,” explained Josh as he continued in, excitedly showing Bradley his own phone where he could see the big bold letters themselves, “Swap Craft Challenge” written in white. A prompt asked if he was willing to ���Enter’.

“Really?” questioned Bradley, this seemed way too good to be true.

“Yeah, like you can do all sorts of stuff, but there’s no winner. Dude, we should try it!” suggested Josh, Bradley shrugged. Fuck it, there wasn’t any other way he was going to spend the night. After only a few short moments the both of them found themselves in a two-person “lobby” for Swap Craft, with Josh just itching to push play. “Okay but one rule, no mental changes or stuff, okay? I don’t want you fucking around with my head.”

“Man, I’m not dumb enough to do something like that. Plus I bet you I can win without even needing to,” claimed Brad.

“Oh yeah? You’re on,” replied Josh as he pushed play and suddenly saw that it was his turn as he began to focus on his cracked phone. “Now what to do…what to do…” He suddenly looked Bradley over, he hated to admit it but the dude had gained some weight and packed on some pounds these last few months. It wasn’t like it was bad or anything, but it would be fun to see his funny twig of a roommate again that he saw when he first moved in - and that’s exactly what he was going to do. “Ha! Have fun!”

“Wha-” Brad stopped as he glanced down to suddenly see some of the bulges from his stomach pressing into his shirt suddenly rescinded. He hated he had gained weight and wanted to even go to the gym to lose it naturally, but it was no bother, his stomach sank and became flat like it had been only a few months ago. He laughed. “Nice! Okay my turn then.”

Bradley paused, this was a lot harder, he only really had one picture of Josh and he had taken that weeks ago when his phone had broken for the third or fourth time. But what Brad could go for was to see Josh grow taller, the guy was practically a midget being a small 5’9 when Brad himself was at least 6’3, some height was what he needed and if Josh was going to help him grow skinny then Bradley could help Josh grow taller.

Suddenly Josh saw the smirk appear over Brad’s visage and stopped when he felt his own legs churn as they began to spread out, whatever fat he had was pulled against him as he suddenly realised his own torso was also stretching out. He almost felt like he was being pulled from both sides, but not in a painful way as the small 5’8 man became a suddenly gargantuan 6’5 and a hell of a lot thinner because of it. Bradley was in hysterics.

“Oh come on, that’s not funny!” snapped Josh.

“Yeah right, hey if you don’t like it, you should quit,” teased Bradley. Josh rolled his eyes.

“Not fucking likely,” he muttered under his breath as he was just glad it was his turn now, feeling so stupid with his clothes obviously being far too short for him and glad nothing else grew. Though speaking of growth…Brad did say they couldn’t do any mental changes, but transformations never last forever and if he was going to stay skinny, why not give him a bit of a boost? Josh did some tinkering of his own as he looked up, sneering at Bradley.”Hey Brad, do you have that ten dollars you owe me?”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s right here,” grunted Bradley as he began reaching towards his wallet, pulling out ten dollars which he threw to Josh and Josh could see it clear as day, a gym membership card, tucked away behind his debit card. It worked and now for the best part.

Bradley shifted as he scratched at his own chest, starting to feel a tingling spread across them as he looked down to see his chest beginning to grow, divulging into pecs that pressed against his shirt, only making it tighter as his whole torso clearly began to bulk up. His entire chest was that of a well trained bodybuilder, completely separate from the rest of his skinny body.

“What the fuck?”

“Oh well I made you skinny, only fair I make you fitter too,” chuckled Josh as he got his ten dollars, scraping it up from the floor. He ignored Bradley’s glare. “Your turn.”

“Okay fine if that’s how you want to be,” Bradley smiled as he scratched at his pecs before an idea came into mind. His smile grew wider as he went on to Josh’s profile page and began typing away. “How are you doing Joe?”

“Joe? What the-” Josh’s eyes became a stark brown in complete contrast to his once blue eyes as he blinked. “I’m doing good, it’d be better if you just quit now then.” He chuckled, yeah Joe, he didn’t know why he was confused by that, it was his name after all, Joe.

“Your turn.”

Joe wanted to have more fun, he quickly began to observe Bradley’s profile and meddled away.

“So how was work today?” asked Joe. Bradley rolled his eyes. Work was boring and he didn’t know why Josh or “Joe” was starting to ask about it now, working in a grocery sto- He blinked. He meant the gym wasn’t all that great.

“It was fine, a couple of new guys joined the gym and I showed them around,” answered Brad as his own shirt was almost becoming a literal tank top with the way that the sleeves were starting to tear from his own bludgeoning biceps that were once skinny arms but had now grown into great muscular appendages for a great beast of a bodybuilder like himself. “Aw fuck this, I’m not letting you ruin my clothes too.” Brad quickly took off his shirt, revealing his sexy abs.

“Well, it���s your turn now, Brad,” chuckled Joe. Bradley was impressed, “Joe”, still didn’t know what hit him or what was about to as work was on his mind - and why not have “Joe” fit his name correctly, instead of working at the movie theatre, he could work somewhere else.

“How was the club tonight, Joe?”

Joe got a flashback of himself suddenly ripping off his own shirt like Brad here as he remembered all the money and guys that were fawning at him over at the strip club he started working at only two months ago. Fuck, it felt good to be able to do that and show off his body. But for now he simply shrugged, didn’t want Brad to distract him, even when he suddenly started to see that his own skin was starting to grow tanned from his head to his toes.

“Okay, well I think you’re- Wait…” Joe blinked. “Why are you asking me about work?” Brad shrugged.

“You asked me,” he replied.

“Yeah but I only asked you because-” Joe suddenly blinked again as he paused and glared at Bradley. “Are you cheating?” Bradley furrowed his brows.

“No!” He said.

“I can tell when you’re lying,” growled Joe. “You know what, I fucking knew it, that’s it.”

“What are you doing?” exclaimed Bradley as he saw Joe rapidly typing and swore his heart had never beat faster at that moment (except after a tough workout).

“Winning this thing,” declared Joe as he pushed down on his phone and Bradley watched as his own feet pushed through his socks, the toes colliding with the fabric all at once before bursting a hole through them all and ruining the socks that became tattered and now barely able to adorn his large and musky feet.

But that didn’t worry Brad enough as much as the idea that any mental changes would come about - but he felt nothing for a time, and then he suddenly felt everything at once as his eyes slammed shut and sparks almost appeared when his own cock was suddenly so large that it was able to poke through his underwear.

“Woah, what the hell?” cried Brad as his hand automatically grabbed at his dick, trying to stop the flow of pre-cum that stained his legs. “Oh my god, what the hell are you doing? Don’t you have to give your intelligence to raise someone’s libido?”

Joe nodded.

“Yep, but it’s worth it, way smarter than you anyway,” grunted Joe as Brad narrowed his eyes. Two could play at this game. “Your turn.”

“My turn…Alright I’ll show you what I’ll do on my turn…” Brad muttered as he bitterly typed away, wondering what to alter, what to change when he smirked. Not only in the next few moments did Joe begin to implode with muscularity (seemingly Josh either missed the fact that you could just alter the muscle mass in the whole body for a little bit more of your intellect if you wanted to).

But suddenly Joe’s own cock was throbbing member as all his clothing was completely gone, ripped away by both his bulge and his great muscularity as he was starting to look more like the real deal himself with every passing turn. “Have fun. Your turn.”

Joe was feeling a different kind of way, he was sure that just a bit more couldn’t hurt as he laid there in the tatters of his own clothes, resisting the urge to bounce his pecs or dance to the music that had filled the room this entire time and the beat which only grew louder in Joe’s mind as he recalled the strip club.

“Fucking…Alright I’ll do this…” muttered Joe as he enjoyed the feeling of watching Brad realise his own cock had also grown far too large for his underwear, almost instantly having to be taken off just in time for Brad to see the cock grow so much more larger as it snaked by, inch by inch.

All while the rest of his own clothing was completely gone shredded by his own well, shredded abs and giant muscular thighs that continued to grow, almost doubling in size to the point where they easily increased his waist size. “Fuck…Not feeling so good.”

“What’s the matter? Gonna quit?” laughed Brad as he looked down at his own phone. Fuck, he wasn’t feeling all that great either as he wanted to see Joe cum for him but a part of him also wanted to still at least be a bit smarter than him.

Fuck it.

He hastily increased Joe’s libido and began changing his face by adding a new profile picture for him. Joe’s own face started to shift from what was once the recognisable thin visage of “Josh” to now portraying the sexy Joe Manganiello with the nose growing larger, the brows thicker, the hair slightly shaggier and the jaw becoming ever more sharper.

“Not yet,” panted Joe as he groaned and looked down. Fuck, he could barely hold it in. He hastily typed away something about Brad, starting to see him as the perfect man to mould and make as he changed his hometown to Dallas, watching the name automatically change to “Travis” now instead of Bradley whilst his own face changed.

The head grew so much more bigger to accommodate the size of his new large body and thick neck with vocal chords that helped showcase some of that southern twang whilst his lips grew thinner and spread across his face. Travis’ hairline shifted back slightly as he grew older with age, only accentuating his facial features like a fine wine and a brown beard appearing over his chiselled chin.

Joe looked down at him.

“Wanna quit now?” asked Joe.

“Aw fuck dude, I think I-” Travis couldn’t even finish what he was saying as he heard Joe moan, not himself before suddenly watching the great muscular beast cum all over himself and his phone.

Travs was barely able to keep his phone out of range as just watching that dark cock almost explode in ecstasy was enough to cause him to give in and cum over his muscular body, looking down and panting in pure pleasure as he saw his seed stain his abs. “Aw god.” Travis reached for some nearby paper towels to clean himself off and handed Joe some spare clean ones.

“Oh man I think I fucked up my phone,” muttered Joe as he saw the “Swap Craft” screen flicker before turning off at once, drowning in darkness knowing it was never going resurface.

“Aw shit, can we not quit?” asked Travis. Joe shrugged.

“Doesn’t look like it, but you can still use your phone right?” questioned Joe. Travis looked down, confused. He could see some other options, one of which he think said ‘Revert’, but he could barely understand it.

“I don’t know what the other words say, but there’s a big green one that says share, if we wanna share our result?” Travis shrugged.

“Hell yeah, do that bro!” chuckled Joe and together they set their camera up, grabbing each other by the hand and tensing their biceps for the perfect picture.

Two lucky sexy fools sending their picture off into a sea of submissions of the Swap Craft Challenge, all showing similar sexy men of all kinds, some having more than two, all showing off their body, the result of the challenge. To this day, there is still no winner of the Swap Craft Challenge.

If you want to check out more stories like this, then click here to see more TF/hypno on my Patreon.

[revelboo]

Ahh yes, the day of turkey has come. Hope you'll enjoy yourself and we're very thankful for what you've done for us. Have fun and be safe! 😋🍗🥧🥂💖💖💖

Thank you! You guys have a great holiday, too

Lose Control Pt 2

IDW Swerve x Reader

• Reaching for a drying rag, he closes the distance between you. Aware of how tense you are as he slowly drapes it about your shoulders and offers a servo to you. Would rather pick you up, but since he’s as vertically challenged as you are, he can’t help thinking about how it would feel if Magnus or Megs just picked him up without permission to move him. Not exactly cool. Staring at his servo, you look up at his face and reach out to lay your warm palm on him. Letting him lead you in an awkward hunch behind the bar. “So, name’s Swerve and this is Swerve’s,” he says, unable to resist grinning.

• He’s not so scary, you decide as you shakily look around. There’s just something disarming about that friendly voice and you clutch at the blanket he gave you, tension easing. If he was going to hurt you, he would have by now. Right? “Where am I?” You remember pain and then being here, scared and disoriented. Your fingers won’t stop shaking.

• “Okay,” he says, pulling out another cleaning cloth and draping it over your head because you’re still shaky. Could just be after effects of being brought here across space and time, though. He can’t imagine it’s fun to be yanked from place to place suddenly. “So, brace yourself, you’re in space. On a ship.” Spreading his hands he waits for the disbelief. Not for the blank stare at his revelation. You’d heard him right? “You know. Space.”

• “Okay. Unbeam me up. Put me back.” It’s not like you can demand anything of the big, alien robot or force him to do anything, but this has to be a mistake. You shouldn’t be here, obviously. He has to understand that. “I have work tomorrow.” Even to you, the words sound dumb.

• “What?” I have work tomorrow? “I can’t send you back, we’re nowhere near Earth.” And you’re still staring at him, eyes narrowing slightly like you don’t believe him at all. “Here, look.” Gingerly catching you around the middle, he boosts you up onto the back counter and climbs up after you. Points at the view screen visible near the stacks of bottles and glasses and follows you down to the end of the bar as you stare out at nothing but darkness and stars. No planets within sight. And he almost doesn’t manage to catch you when you make a funny little noise and your eyes roll up in your head, going disturbingly boneless as you black out.

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[rootspiral]

Agatha All Along deep dive: episode 1 part 4

(Wandavision entries: [1][2][3])

(AAA entries: ep1 [1][2][3][4] ep2 [1][2][3][4] ep3 [1][2][3] ep4 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][+1] ep5 [1][2][3][4][5] ep6 [1][2][3] ep7 [1][2][3][4][5][6] ep8 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][8][9] ep9 [1][2][3][4][5][6])

well, well, well, if it isn't the consequences of my own actions

do you think it took Rio a long time to choose her revenge dress? did she agonize over every detail? I picture her process like, okay I need an outfit that says fuck you (threatening) but also fuck you (horny) and fuck me (very horny) and then circle all the way back to FUCK YOU THOUGH (VERY threatening)

as to why Rio goes from super soft to *that* - I see it as the equivalent of the TV trope where someone almost dies and their loved one is very concerned, but as soon as there's no danger they slap them around the head and call them a fucking idiot. this is Rio's WELCOME HOME, CHEATER moment (Agatha has been kiiiind of been cheating death, lbr)

this is the best way rio could choose to approach agatha too, and not only because it lets her express all that pent up anger. what would be the alternative? sit Agatha down and have a honest chat? Rio knows her too well, she knows it would be simply too much. Agatha *is* more comfortable with big bombastic scenes, with violence that is a lot like foreplay. Rio is looking out for her right now, she is making it as easier for Agatha as she can, while also not letting her get away with her bullshit any longer.

one little sentence, so many ways to read it

only physically. she's not letting you in. not anymore. you'll have to save her from herself kicking and screaming. dear god she's actually honestly crying. this is a WHOLE fucking deal. and it's also the first time she sees Rio while knowing WHO rio is. she's feeling all the feelings

girls. GIRLS. how am I supposed to take decent screenshots if you keep flinging each other at walls. keep STILL! (look at the furniture btw, isn't it a bit curved? I think they're still using a fisheye lens. reality is still shifting. almost as if we're in the presence of an otherworldly being)

oh the metaphor of it. sometimes you just have to reach out and connect, even if you get hurt in the process.

BECAUSE SHE'S BEEN SHIELDING FOR SO LONG TO HIDE FROM PAIN. OH MY GOD. did a 2000s emo kid write this

every other MCU fight wishes it were this perfect storm of hot and emotionally devastating

Rio cannot physically kill Agatha, it's not allowed, she's only the collector. So what is she trying to do, exactly? Has Agatha really been cheating death for so long that Rio has no choice but to bring her in? Or is she not here to collect at all and this is just her way to get back at her ex (and possibly win her back)? I adore both options, they're tragic in different ways.

time to bullshit! time to bolt! time to get to that escape route! this is what Agatha does best. anything but face the truth

funny how agatha usually has no problem looking undignified. it's almost like this is not the point at all. so let's review: wanda has stripped agatha of the powers that have been keeping her hidden from rio. rio comes over to confront her - and not kill her, she wouldn't be allowed anyway. she does it in a way that agatha would find less scary than having a mature convo. still, agatha has to face things she's been escaping for so long and it's simply too horrifying, too overwhelming. the fact that she's joking around so much (while her future conversations with rio will be sad, soft, dramatic) tells you just how scared and how miserable she is. She's begging rio to stop, because even fighting and flirting, which is their comfort zone, is proving too much. And what does rio do? She listens and goes away. only temporary, she won't let her off the hook now that she has found her. but she's still willing to go at Agatha's pace.

aubrey plaza I would die for your evil little face

can I just say that agatha trying to flirt right now is devastating? she is at the end of her rope. she does NOT want rio to stay, doesn't trust herself around her in so many ways. but she knows how much rio wants her and just... she tries to manipulate her with flirting. it's a desperate gamble, completely undignified, completely in character for agatha. she offers herself to rio, but only physically. when what they had was infinitely more than that, it was beautiful, it was sacred.

and rio... forgives her. she laughs another one of her little soft laughs and lowers the blade. plaza is so good here, the way she says "okay, agatha," is a perfect blend of resentment and tenderness. she knows agatha better than anyone ever had or ever will. she knows why she does everything she does. and she follows her lead. one last time.

agatha's relief. she's trembling, deflated but still on her guard. she looks completely traumatized. the masterpiece that this scene is: you feel smart when you realize that they're flirting rather than fighting. when it finally dawns on you the real weight of their encounter... it's too late.

"by the way there's a bunch of scary witches after you and I totally want them to kill you, that's why I'm telling you exactly who they are and when they're coming"

agatha tries with all her might to believe that rio is heartless. because anger is easier than sadness.

we're leaning, we're leaning, we're leaning!

rio licking agatha's wound to heal it perfectly encapsulates her feelings: anger, horniness, and infinite tenderness. what a power move. rio was the one in control this whole scene, and it wrecked agatha.

"te veo" (I'm gonna go scream in a pillow)

she's gone, honey, she's gone. breathe.

Billy walking on the two of them having sex would have been less awkward than this

she was a BIT preoccupied, kid

and episode 1 is in the bag!

next stop: IT'S LILIA TIME

go to episode 2 part 1

[saerins]

─── 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒

+ itoshi sae x f!reader | wc 4k | content: angst, best friends to lovers to strangers type beat, i did not proof this besties

notes: lmao me , thinking i could get away from this man . guess who’s back with more sae ??? <3

summary: you’re the one sae can’t get over. he’s beginning to think he never will.

the freshly cooked bread is on the floor. it litters the nice marble tiles. the chit of paper with the order writes mr. rin hatoki.

“i'm tired of this, sae.”

sae doesn't say a word. he's listless, sitting on the kitchen table, staring at his own reflection on the glass, wondering where it all went wrong.

“why don't you love me anymore?”

it's weird. he can hear the sorrow. he can feel the pain. yet he feels nothing.

“what does she have that i don’t?”

maybe you're right. maybe he's an asshole. maybe this is his punishment.

the first time sae laid eyes on you, you were five and he was six.

he saw you playing with rin on the slides, and he remembers the way you smiled at him when rin told you sae was his older brother.

and even back then, even if it was a tiny crush based on superficial reasons like how sae liked your smile or your eyes or the way your hands felt on his when you locked hands and forced him to play with you and rin, he remembers you mocking rin and calling sae nii-chan.

sae remembers how he cringed inside because no. no no, he didn’t want you calling him that because that wasn’t what he wanted you to know him for. he didn’t know what he wanted exactly, but definitely not an older brother.

"itoshi-kun!"

“sae,” he corrected you, watching as you ran up to him on the field.

he loved the soft smile you wore on when you heard him. he especially loved the first time you said his name.

“sae.”

the first time he saw you cry, it was when you scraped your knee after some boys accidentally pushed you over.

you were nine.

sae scared them away afterwards.

you weren’t exactly sobbing—he found out you were funny like that, like you wanted to cry but didn’t want to let anyone see. but it was frustrating because sae wasn’t just anyone. or so he liked to think.

“get on,” sae told you, getting down on one knee with his back turned to you.

“what?” you sniffled, vision still blurry from your would-be tears.

sae craned his neck to look back at you, a faint smile on his face. “come on, i’ll carry you home.”

“i’m not weak, you know,” you argued, and sae would’ve told you to just accept his offer when he realised you already did, obediently climbing onto his back and wrapping your arms around his neck.

it was a relatively silent walk back. sae could hear the rapid beating of your heart though.

maybe it was a tiny crush too. the kind that stuck with you for three years and four months and threatened to stick with you for the rest of your life.

“hey, sae?”

“hm?”

a pregnant pause. you held him tighter before ultimately loosening your grip.

“mm, nothing.”

sae really wanted to hear you. but he let it go.

it was torture, really—you were fifteen when you got your first boyfriend. some guy called oliver aiku. who looked way too old for you, by the way, but fine, if you said he was only a year older than sae, who was he to question you?

sae hated it, really. watching you at the swings, laughing along with him, watching oli feed you ice cream. and you said oliver was a good striker too? sae bet he was better.

what did he have that sae didn’t?

and sae thought he’d love to witness the day when the two of you broke up. but he never counted on the fact that you’d be a mess when your heart was broken.

you ignored sae and rin for a couple of weeks, choosing to stay isolated, refusing to see anyone. you weren’t even replying sae’s texts.

[17:34] hey y/n, pick up the phone, idiot.

[17:34] rin misses you.

okay so that last part was a lie, but it was fine, rin didn’t have to find out.

[17:35] hey sae. :)

[17:35] hmm… so you don’t miss me?

sae had to do a double take at your text. since when did you become this cheeky? he didn’t even know why he was suppressing a smile.

it took him less than a minute before he got up.

[17:36] maybe.

[17:37] be at your place in 10, let’s get ice cream.

funny how he wanted to replace all of oliver’s memories. sae wanted you to lick the ice cream that he was holding. sae wanted you to play on the swings with him. everything him, no other stupid boys who would make you cry, who didn’t deserve you.

that was exactly what sae did—asked you what you did with oliver. you’d answer him, and he’d do the exact same with you, and he’d rewrite all the memories you thought would be so hard to forget, the very same memories you thought would be impossible to replace. yet sae did it, replaced the bad with the good.

sae wasn’t a mind reader, he couldn’t tell what you were thinking as he got you ice cream and fed it to you, couldn’t tell if you liked how he walked with his arm around your shoulder. couldn’t tell if you knew what he was doing.

he wished that you knew how he felt—then that’d make one of you. because sae had no clue.

“hey, sae?”

“hm?”

he got deja vu there.

and this time, you continued.

“do you do this for other girls too?”

sae nearly choked on that question because no, he didn’t do nearly as much for other people in general. you were the only one he’d ever put this much effort to.

“no.”

he can still remember your little smile to this day. it was pretty, even prettier since it was because of him. it was like a silent knowledge you both shared—you didn’t want him to do that for other girls, and he didn’t want to share you with other boys.

simple, but complicated. complicated because you were both shit at feelings and shit at admitting but it was still beautiful, if only because neither of you ever strayed.

back then.

“what about a house?”

“i’ll buy you the nicest, cosiest one there is.”

“anywhere in the world?”

sae nodded. “anywhere you want.”

“i want to open a bakery one day. you gonna help me with that?”

“i’ll help you with anything you want.”

you giggled. “yeah? you and what money, sae?”

he rolled his eyes, resting his head against his palm, elbow propped up on your study table. “when i become the best soccer player in the world, genius.”

sae flicked your forehead gently, as he remembers he liked to, smiling softly when you winced in faux pain.

it’s funny how comfortable he felt talking about shit like that with you, only half-joking. it was an innocent conversation on how sae said he would be able to take care of you when you were both older. even if it wasn’t his place, even if he wasn’t even your boyfriend yet then.

“oh? so i’ll get the world’s best soccer player itoshi sae all to myself?”

it all sounded dreamy and attainable when you were both eighteen and sitting on cloud nine. when the both of you were dreamers with rose tinted glasses and honeyed tongues to match.

“is that a confession, y/n l/n?”

he remembers he caught you off guard. he knew because the way you behaved when you were flustered was already ingrained in his mind. the way you fumbled over your words, the way you couldn’t hold eye contact, the way you made him melt with how you seemed so vulnerable for a split second.

“what if it was?”

that was the first time you ever managed to render him speechless. only because of how honest you were being. only because sae wanted you to want him and you did and then he was reduced to some infatuated idiot.

“good, me too.”

and maybe that was his first mistake. when he didn’t make sure you knew he wanted you for more than just that moment, that he had wanted you for a long time coming.

maybe that was the first in line for the domino effect.

life hit hard and fast by the time sae made a name for himself as one of the best midfielders in the world. he opened his eyes and saw that japan was not for him—he wanted more for himself, for his career.

sae wanted to move. and at the time, he wanted to bring you with him.

“how’s spain?”

it was the usual call the two of you had—a routine set in place because sae found he’d miss you too much if he didn’t hear from you for a while. it sucked that he couldn’t bring you with him now, not when he wasn’t best yet and not when you had a degree to finish.

“great, i play in the official match tomorrow, starting eleven.”

mundane updates about each other’s lives. he’d tell you about his soccer trainings and you’d fill him in on school. but for sae, it wasn’t enough. so he took a leap of faith this time, he was sure what he wanted.

“hey, what if we moved out here next time?” sae asked, cutting you off.

you stuttered, flustered and overwhelmed. in hindsight, maybe asking you that sort of thing when the both of you weren’t even officially together was kind of a stretch.

but sae had been sure at that point of time.

“there’s a lot to consider, sae.”

it was that tricky line where you were both more than friends but less than lovers and sae knew that over the phone wasn’t the ideal place to do it but he didn’t want to drag it on any longer.

“i mean, we’re not even together and we’re both just still kids, and—”

“then be mine.”

“i- what?”

for the first time, he was thinking about the future. and it had to be with you. he couldn’t imagine it another way. and when you agreed to be his that day, when you agreed you’d consider it for the future, sae was happier than he let on.

for the first time, the future was a little clearer. become the best midfielder, find a good forward worthy of his passes, and when all that was done and dusted, he’d always come back to you at the end of the day.

sae had thought hard about it.

but evidently not hard enough.

reality hit like a truck.

because fast forward five years into the future and you had moved out to spain to be with sae, your future husband, the diamond ring nestled comfortably on your finger.

moving in with sae was fun, exciting. it was a new place, new continent, new start. sae was with you every step of the way, choosing the house, choosing the furniture. turned out, being one of the most in-demand soccer players paid way too well.

what sae never considered was the gravity of what he asked you to do—uproot your entire life to be with him. you were both still young and full of life and loved seeking thrills and you both failed to grasp what the consequences would be.

it was harder than you bargained; adjusting to the new country, learning a new language, making new friends and learning the culture. sae was a pivotal part of your support system, but sometimes he didn’t have a choice; he couldn’t be there for you a hundred percent. he had soccer, contracts to fulfil, people to please. you needed him more than you realised.

and when you moved in together, both of you saw sides to one another you never really saw before. like how you get frustrated when sae messes the entire bedroom up after you spent the entire day cleaning the mansion. or how sae shut down whenever he was having doubts about his team, his plays.

it was difficult. but it still worked.

for a while.

but arguments were getting more frequent. and sae forgot why he did this in the first place. maybe you should’ve spoken up more too, whenever something bothered you, then maybe you wouldn’t have felt this resentful.

you blamed sae for asking you to move out here. but it was what you wanted too.

it got to a point where there was an animosity between the both of you that you couldn’t handle. the type that made you sad because somehow sae turned into someone you didn’t even recognise.

“where’d you go last night?”

sae sighed, like you were a bother, but really you weren’t. he was just being a dick. it was never okay to just abandon your fiancé at home all because of a dumb fight which he couldn’t even remember by now.

“stayed over at the captain’s,” was all he told you. didn’t even bother explaining.

he wishes he did, then maybe you’d stop getting the idea that this relationship had hit a dead end.

“is that what we’re going to do now? just leave the other one alone, not talk when we fight?” you were soft, because you were tired. you’d been tired for a while.

you were tired. sae lost track of himself. everything was a mess and neither of you had the capability to handle it. sae was thinking maybe he made a mistake, and you were thinking it wasn’t too late to turn back. he couldn’t be bothered to remember how you got here in the first place, and he missed all the signs you gave him.

how you had stayed up late just to wait up for him whenever he had practice. how you agreed to be with him through everything and kept a smile on your face even when things were hard on you personally. how you cooked for two even when sae said he wouldn’t have time for dinners at home, just in case.

he’s sorry; you thought of him way too much, and he didn’t give you enough.

“sae, say something, please?” you were on the verge of tears, and he was on the verge of giving up.

sae knows what you wanted to hear now. but back then, he didn’t. he was too pressed on his own feelings that he just couldn’t find it in himself to think for you.

“what do you want me to say?”

you sat next to him on the couch, and he could hear you sniffling. he didn’t turn to look at you, didn’t ask about you, didn’t try to console you. for his own good. because he thought he knew where it was going, and it was better if he didn’t.

“sae… do you still want this?”

that was the first time he was unsure. because what he knew was that there was no one else for him. there was only you. he wanted only you, but everything turned out like this and he felt conflicted, tired.

he just wasn’t sure.

“i don’t know.”

but that was as good of an answer to you as any.

you’d watched him over the years. you’d tolerated all of his misgivings, you’d watched him train even when he was injured, even when you begged him to rest. you’d supported him throughout everything. you were everything to him, but at that moment, sae failed to tell you, and you couldn’t hold on to something that seemed so futile, something that was hanging on by a single thread.

something that might’ve snapped at any moment.

the next day, all sae woke up to was the engagement ring on his bedpost and your absence from his life.

it’s been another five years since then.

sae’s back in japan. for some reason.

no, not some. just one. just you.

to think that up until now, sae still thinks of you. you’re always there somehow, in his memories. when he scores a goal, he still instinctively looks for your face in the crowd. when people interview him and ask him about possible partners, his first thought is your name. when he goes on his socials, he looks for you first. it’s habit.

sae’s jealous, still. even after four years apart. he still loves you. he’s still stupid. he’s still too late.

you’re happy now, if your posts are any indication. you live with him too. sae sometimes wishes he was him. then maybe he’d get to feel you again, be around you, hover over you and annoy you to no end. maybe he’d get to hear you call his name again.

but that’s a long shot.

you’re about to be mrs mikage soon. reo’s a lucky guy, whoever the fuck he is. sae hates him, but it’s biased. he’s probably good to you. he helped you build that bakery you always wanted, after all.

the bakery sae always orders from under a fake name because he doesn’t know whether you hate him and he’d rather not risk it. it’s the only way he knows how to hold on to you, to still feel close to you.

so he’s mr. rin hatoki.

“tell me!”

his girlfriend’s voice is shrill, it brings him back to the present, to his current predicament. to the fact that he’s been trying to put you in the past, but he’s not able to. and she knows it, too. she’s not dumb.

she probably stalked you ever since she first started dating him. she probably knew all along that the breakfasts sae buys for her is his pathetic excuse to just support your business. she probably knew that from the start, she stood no chance against you.

“i beg you, sae,” she’s crying now, and sae feels bad for regressing to this state, to hurting other people but most of all, he feels bad for flat out wishing she was you. “just break my heart already if you’re going to do it.”

two years with her down the drain. because he can’t forget about you.

sae doesn’t even look up at her because he’s filled with the vision of you smiling in his head. that’s all he’s staring at.

she asked what you had that she didn’t. and sae only knows the one answer is his heart.

“you’ll never be her.”

sae stares at you from the driver’s seat. he’s parked on the opposite side of the road, it should be safely tucked away enough that you won’t notice.

you’re closing up. you look like an angel. you’re dawdling, slowly mopping up the floors, your hair so messy and you’re still so perfect.

he wants to go there, wants to run to you and hug you, wants to grip onto you and take back what he lost. but he of all people knows that’s impossible. so he stays in his driver’s seat, stays in his fantasies, stays away from you.

maybe he should just drive away. maybe he should stop pining for you. this is stupid.

especially stupid when he sees your future husband pull up and run up the sidewalk, runs into your arms, carries you and spins you around and presses a kiss onto your perfect nose.

sae can only vaguely make out what he’s saying.

“have a surprise for you at home, baby.”

and sae can’t tell what you said, but he can tell you love him by the slow, affectionate kiss you give him, the way you wrap your arms around his neck and laugh against each other’s lips.

“wait here for a bit, yeah?” reo tells you, and you nod, obedient.

it’s like a drug, now that he’s here, sae wants to stay and watch the show play out to the end. he watches as you store away your broom and mops and as reo walks back to his car—wait, no, fuck, he’s walking to sae’s car.

fuck fuck fuck.

reo makes sure you’re back in your bakery and out of view before he smiles at sae. “i’m very honoured that a world-class soccer player is stalking us,” reo beams at him the moment sae winds down his windows. “wanna go over there and talk to her?”

he definitely knows of your history with sae. it doesn’t bother him though, apparently. not if he’s offering sae the chance to talk to you, and alone, by the looks of it.

sae’s not really sure what he’s doing, taking reo up on his offer. he walks through the doors to your bakery and the shopkeeper’s bell rings, inciting you to spin around, expecting reo, but your eyes widen when you see sae there instead, sheepishly standing there, staring dumbly at you.

“sae,” you call his name, breathlessly. “w-what’re you doing here?”

“i… don’t know.”

he doesn’t. zero clue. fuck.

you’re not smiling, you’re apprehensive, you’re still in shock as to why itoshi sae didn’t contact you ever since you left him and why he chose now of all times to show up. there’s tears in the corners of your eyes and he knows you’re trying not to let them fall. the corners of your mouth try not to but they form a small frown.

“i just wanted to tell you…” sae trails off because he starts to remember everything.

he remembers five years old and you on the slides. he remembers your nii-chan and how he hated it. he remembers your smile and him being lovestruck and pathetic. he remembers making you happy and then making you sad, going from everything you loved to everything you grieved. he remembers all the signs he thought you didn’t give. he remembers your newly opened bakery and the heart on his first order chit. he remembers his now ex-girlfriend hating his guts and throwing your bread on the floor.

most of all, he remembers how happy you look with reo.

so sae swallows all the words he wanted to say and gives you a knowing smile. “just wanted to come by and wish you a happy marriage.”

i miss you. i still love you. i want you back. i want to be yours again. i promise i’ll love you properly this time.

he bites back all his words.

your expression turns soft and you smile at him for the first time in five years. “thanks, sae,” you tell him, holding your hand out.

sae shakes it, resisting his urge to pull you close.

“how are—”

“i have to go,” sae interjects, because he doesn’t think he can act any more normal than this. he wants to see more of you, but he forces himself to leave, and you understand anyway, you and your weak knees because as much as you’re over itoshi sae, your lover, you still miss itoshi sae, your best friend.

reo walks past him on the steps, noticing his rush. “hey, leaving already?”

sae doesn’t stop. “yeah.”

“look, y/n’s clueless but,” reo continues, raising his voice slightly as sae gets farther away. “thanks for all the support!”

sae stops short of his car, turning around to look at reo, who’s looking at you, cleaning up the last of your cash.

“what are you talking about?”

reo turns back to sae, hands in his pockets. “i wanted to thank mr rin hatoki personally so—” sae’s eyes grow wide at the mention of the name— “thank you.”

how does he even know?

“you know, she was so nervous when it first opened, thinking that nobody would buy anything,” reo tells him, and sae listens, swallowing the lump in his throat. “i wanted to be the first customer but apparently a mr rin hitoki beat me to it.”

reo sighs, noticing how sae’s eyes are now glued onto you.

“y/n’s the kindest person i’ve ever met,” reo continues, turning his back on sae. “if you want forgiveness, it’s always there for you.”

reo’s revelation and offer sticks with sae, but he shelves it in the corner of his mind. when he sees you, crescent eyes and all smiles, sae drives off.

it’s fine. knowing you’re happy is enough.

that’s a lie. it will never be enough for him, but he’ll just keep trying to convince himself. sae loves you, and he might just love you enough to let you go.

[daughterofapollo-official]

If they were your boyfriend, where would their favorite place to make love be?

Leo Valdez

His car. Please, his car. There is absolutely nothing he loves more then having your beautiful body ride him in his car. His cowboy side even comes out a bit. He’ll jokingly say ‘yeehaw!’ And slap your ass. Bro even started keeping a cowgirl hat in his car and started making you wear it when you ride him like a rodeo. He’s not exactly patriotic. Being bi-cultural and all. He just thinks it’s funny as fuck and sexy. So wear the fucking hat.

Y’all will also do missionary or doggy in the backseat but he really does just enjoy watching you ride so much more. Ruining his brown hands up and down your sides gripping your breast with a smirk and bitting his lip. Squeezing your tits with those amazingly skilled hands. he knows how to turn gears with those hands to perfect angle so his machine works just the right way. Imagine what he does to your nipples.

Then trail his hands back down and gripping your ass, smacking it again.

When he feels himself get close he’ll rub your clit. Try and get you off too.

Jason Grace

He is not the type to break the mold in this situation.

“Um, sex in public is illegal! What if we get caught?!”

He’s a rule follower. Bro even waited till he was the age of consent before having sex. He planed it. Even made you write your consent on paper the fist time.

He STUDIED before the day. Read up on every page dedicated to sexual education. He showed before, showered after. Peed after. Wore a condom. Safety first!

So in other words, the bedroom. Only. Just the bed. If he is feeling feral, which is rare he might fuck you against a wall.

But that being said he isn’t a boring lay. He’s rough. Like- rough. He doesn’t mean to be it’s just that he is big, and muscular and he’s a born warrior. He tried, he always tries to be gentle. At least when he first penetrates. He read it can be painful. And he doesn’t want to hurt you. But the damn second you moan, your fucked. Or- getting fucked. And hard.

But he’ll eventually get embarrassed at how loud it is that he’ll eventually clamp your mouth shut with his hand and sink his teeth into your shoulder.

But afterwards he’ll ask if you’re okay, kiss you tenderly on all your bite marks and whisper sorry for going to hard. He’ll get you water, tuck you in. You name it. He just wants to take care of you.

Percy Jackson

It might be too on the nose, but I do see him as being the type to want to have sex near water. it’s when he’s at his strongest and seeing you in a bikini is just the sexiest thing ever. All wet- oh my God he loves seeing you wet! He can’t fucking handle it if you’re wet, he’s dead. He is hormonal. Wet hair, wet skin. Bikini!!!!

You’re doing it on purpose. You have to be!

Hot tub, pools, shower, sex on the beach! Ohhhh he’s a goner!

He will go down on you more often than the other way around. He knows it’s cold with the wet skin and the wind but he’ll hug you after to keep you warm.

Frank Zhang

He’s shy. It took him years into your relationship to think about carnal aspects. He too tends to stick to the basics. Just the bed.

He’s a gentle gaint. He makes love, he does not fuck. He doesn’t like missionary or anything that requires putting on to much weight on you. He’s scared he’ll crush you. He’s 6’9 and over weight for his height. And he does like very short women.

Yes the size kink is an aspect but- he doesn’t want to break you! You’re so tiny. He has to be careful.

Nico

He is not the type to have long sex. Or planed sex. He is more into quickies or oral.

Took him awhile to feel comfortable with sex. Ya’know since he is from the 1940s and all. Nazi Italy wasn’t very pro pre-marital gay sex.

So there was a lot of internal homophobia at first. But the first time you got on your knees for him, it was so hard to give in and let you suck his cock.

Corners. Against walls. That’s his weakness. Pin him to three trunk and let him fuck your face.

He’s a bottom, a twink. But at the beginning of the sexual relationship, he refused to be on the bottom because that somehow was worse for him, but eventually after getting used to sex and used to the sexual aspect of his gayness he wanted to try it. It was only gonna be once. But he loved it so much that every other time you guys had sex he took it.

Pin his back to the wall or tree suck his cock, then flip him over, pin his face to the same wall or tree and fuck his ass.



Will Solance

Look, he’s a workaholic, so any ware he gets the time. If you guys are alone and he has the time and the mood hits. Yep. It’s happening. And it’s not often that the starts aline in such a way.

He’s the medic innocent of Apollo so obviously, he cares a lot about health. He takes all procedures to avoid sexual transmitted diseases. He wears a condom he will lead you to go to the communal showers afterwards. He will ask you profusely if you pee afterwards and if you say no, he will make you go and pee.

With the rules during sex, but before and afterwards, he will remind you all the time to take the necessary procedures to avoid STDs.

It’s not that he wants to be annoying or boring. It just cares about you so much and it would hurt him so unbelievably much if you got sick because of him and his needs.

Connor Stoll

The woods. The forest. He loves sneaking off, hiding in the tress, hearing the whispers of the gossiping nature spirts as the two of you make love against the leaf covered clearing. Or against a tree.

You don’t realize it’s gonna happen when it happen.

You convent, of course. It’s not ancient Greece anymore. The demigods are past that phase.

It’s more of an elaborate plans/prank he pulls where he pranks you and somehow lures you into the forest and before you know it you’re yelling at him and then suddenly he kisses you and things heat up and- where did that condom come from?

Afterwards will be left confused, wondering if you are or or not a couple now and he’ll just smirk at you and leave you without an answer. He does like you he does, but he loves you and he loves messing with you.

He’ll do this plan again and again and eventually he’ll start referring to you as his girlfriend.

[sugarlywhispers]

b.katsuki x reader ; m.izuku x reader — bakugou cheats on his gf, with midoriya's girlfriend.

☆– warnings; ANGST. swear words, cheating.

☆– i got inspired to write this angst while i was watching Grey's Anatomy, SPOILER ALERT, the episode where Alex leaves Jo and goes back with Izzy.

☆– okay, so, in this blog, we support old, grown up, calmed down mineta. i read a fanfic once (i can't remember the name! ill try to find it🙈) where mineta had cooled down his thirst for women and became a great friend (still with the double meaning of things, but funny actually), and i thought "okay, if we accept redeemed bakugou, we can accept redeemed mineta". in fanfiction, cuz he's still a stupid, hormonal kid in the manga/anime. so expect more cool mineta bestie here, cuz i like and enjoy double meaning humor. if it's not your cup of tea, you're welcome not to read this🤍

It takes a second, a breath, the entrance of air on your lungs to realize. To assimilate what happened, what it means.

"I brought a bottle of wine, some snacks and ice cream… Nothing heals the heart better than ice cream, talking about personal experience here," his voice says, but you're barely paying attention. You even saw him come into your apartment like it's his own, like he has done it thousands of times. But you don't leave your standing position by the door.

You saw the silhouette of Mineta, tall and broad shoulders through the peephole of the entrance door, and for a second you thought it was him. Even though they look nothing alike. But you thought… you wished it was him.

Bakugou Katsuki.

Reality hurts. 

Reality… is a bitch.

It takes a second to blink, to watch how everything changes, how everything falls apart in the simple action of closing and opening one's eyes.

You never thought it would happen to you. You thought he was it for you. You thought Bakugou Katsuki was going to be the one true love of your life. You trusted him. You gave him years of your life. Years where you thought he was the most amazing thing that ever happened to you. Years where you gave up dreams to help and support him in his dreams. And how does he thank you? Cheating. Choosing somebody else over you. Choosing her over you.

"I also heard hooking up with someone else also helps," Mineta jokes, snorting at his own ridiculous words. You know he is joking, he is your best friend and he has always joked this way. You know it. But… the heaviness in your chest doesn't know it. The pain in your heart doesn't know it.

"I'm not offering though… Don't take it personal, love. I love you and you're one the hottest hotties around here, but you're not exactly my type." He chuckles, taking the things he brought on bags over the counter of your kitchen.

You can see him from your position because it's not that far away, your apartment isn't big. When you and Bakugou went apartment hunting two months ago, you didn't want anything big and ostentatious. You simply wanted a home, whether that be a one room apartment.

It had been a home... Or so you thought.

Now, this apartment feels like a prison. A cell where it doesn't hold enough oxygen to breathe. Where every single corner reminds you of him. Where every single item and thing picked to decorate or to use, spoke about him. Him and you.

And there wasn't a "him and you" anymore.

Everything was a reminder of what him and you were.

There fucking isn't a "him and you" anymore.

"He left me," you breathe out, hand trembling over the doorknob.

Mineta turns around then. He sees you, shaking by the closed door at the entrance of your apartment. Hand holding the doorknob with strength, like your whole body depends on that contact to not fall apart. But your face… He has never seen you like this.

It's blank. And it's full of sentiment, emotions that hurt to actually see. Dark circles under your eyes. The skin of your face is pale, almost like a sick person; and that worries him. You're barely holding everything inside.

You are barely looking like your usual self.

Your breathing starts to agitate when you let go of the doorknob and turn your body a bit towards his direction. Then, your eyes find his.

"He… He just left me… And I–... I can't… I can't breathe," you finally cry.

You haven't cried since he confessed he had cheated on you with his ex-girlfriend, Uraraka Ochako. And that he has been doing it for three months. You did cry in that moment, but you haven't done it again. Not even when you broke the news to Mineta two days after–if you could describe your best friend's reaction, it would be murderous. It had been the first time you had seen Mineta Minoru that furious–. And you haven't even cried when you told Midoriya Izuku about what his actual girlfriend had been doing with your now ex-boyfriend. You remembered watching clearly the slow break of the number one Pro Hero's heart right through his eyes.

You haven't cried again until now. 

Why? Because today, you woke up to a message that said: "I'll pick up my stuff and leave the key at the apartment. I'll go in the morning when you're at work so I don't bother you." When you came back from work at 5pm today, Bakugou Katsuki had done as he promised. His clothes were no longer there, just more space for you to hang and organize your clothes. His computer set-up was no longer there, just an empty desk that you could use as your little home office. His shoes were no longer by the door, just empty space that you didn't know how to fill up.

The apartment is small, but it feels huge now that his things are no longer there.

You immediately texted Mineta: "S.O.S.", and it didn't take even an hour for him to appear with all this stuff he bought to make you feel better.

As you finally broke down on your knees, sobbing uncontrollably like you couldn't bring enough air to your lungs, Mineta knew any silly thing he could bring would be able to help you heal.

Because the only one able to heal this pain inside you… is yourself. 

But you're broken now. And Mineta's heart breaks with yours.

As he kneels beside you and holds you in his arms, he prays his friendship is enough to help you put yourself back together. And if not, Mineta prays to whatever exists up there that they send someone that can help you heal your heart with the devotion you deserve.

As you cry in your best friend's chest, you don't hear the little sound of a new notification on your phone. It's a message, that says:

"Hi, Y/N. It's Midoriya… I was just thinking that… only if you want to, if not it's okay… we could go grab a coffee together sometime. Just if you feel like it. Just… let me know if you want."

[mins-fins]

hey jane — [ na jaemin — 엔시티. ]

where you just so happen to flirt with.. death? how does that work? | now playing ❥

you're staring down your lifeless body which currently makes home on the kitchen floor.

how the fuck did that happen?

three hours ago, you just so happened to accomplish three things; getting an invite to your crushes party, making out with said crush whilst inebriated, and garnering said crush's number. if you remember exactly, you had a date with jeno the next day, you returned home with an irregular feat of happiness carrying your expression.

so why exactly are you now observing your corpse on your very own kitchen floor?

cereal.

you got home at about two in the morning, fucking starving and nothing but cereal atop the fridge. a wobbly chair and legs giving out later, your head just happened to make contact with your kitchen island, dealing a painful final blow.

at least it was quick.

"right before my date?" you whine into the air, hands coming to feel your now frozen face as you sigh. there's nobody around to hear your excessive complaints, did you really have to perish before successfully getting into lee jeno's pants.

from behind you, a chorus of clapping sounds.

"pure entertainment, dying because you wanted cereal at two am" when you turn around, your facial muscles scrunch at the sight of a random man standing in your apartment. his hair is purely white, a contrast to his all black attire. your eyes narrow, half convinced this whole thing is a methodically crafted dream. his lips take an upturn, and you candidly realize that your death is amusing to him. that bastard. "couldn't miss such a thing, has to swing by to watch in dear time".

"haha, yes my death was so funny".

he offers a curt snort. "of course".

your nose aptly crinkles, and you suck your teeth. "and who the hell are you?"

"death".

your brows furrow. "death?" you're aware this shouldn't be your most concerning thought, but you can expressly gauge at how attractive he is, eyeing him up and down in a typical non-death fashion, as if he's simply going out to a local convenience store, as if he is human. "aren't you supposed to wear a black cloak and shit?"

he shrugs. "i can wear whatever i want".

"shouldn't you be all bones too?"

in a terrifying manner, a smile splits on his pristine features, eyelids retaining a void of darkness. "i'll have you know that there is a lot of meat on my bones".

you narrow your eyes, irked by the statement. "so how do i know that you're actually death then?"

the man presents an eerie grin, standing to his feet and taking several steps closer. you hesitate as you take a step back, feeling an encapsulating depression which appears to physically affecting your state. his eyes are bottomless pits which hold.. nothing.

you stop, keeping distance as you make contact with your own corpse on the floor. "okay.. do you have another name besides.. death?"

he again smiles, somewhat pure, mostly strange. "you can call me jaemin" he pinches your cheek, arms folding over his chest.

"alright".

it appears your now instated terror excites him, his eyes gleaming as if he's looking down upon you, lording his superiority over you with such a fit of normalcy. "do you know what i'm here for, sweetheart?"

a chill unexpectedly runs down your spine at the spontaneous uttering of the pet name, you don't expect a sudden change of atmosphere, strange sensations sticking against your skin. "uh— i mean.. you're gonna suck out my soul i think".

he again smiles, snickering at himself. "well aren't you clever?"

you clear your throat, paying a glance to your body on the floor, you're such a fucking idiot. "so.. are you going to?"

it finally seems that you've disturbed his usual tranquil nature, as he blinks in a clear fit of disturbance. "what? you're not gonna beg for your soul back or something?"

you allow for your tense shoulders to drop, then they rise again as you opt to shrug. "i mean— death is death right? aren't you gonna give me a whole speech about how i can't change fate?"

jaemin tilts his head, observing you for a moment before he once more allows for amusement to chief his expression. "well i'm offering, you could.." as he contemplates on his next few words, his fingers make home on the seams of your hair strands. "do something for me, and you'll be able to go on a date with that cute boy tomorrow".

you flinch at his cold breath tickling your ear, his smile remaining permanent. your mind wanders, stuck on jeno and that fucking date you were so excited for before you decided to be an idiot that got themselves killed. "what? like a bargain?"

he giggles. "something like that.."

you've heard of several bargains in your lifetime, there does not appear to be anything of a loophole in this one. "so what is this.. something?"

"ohh, so you really want that date huh?"

you click your tongue, catching sight of his abnormally shaped teeth, molars sharpened as if he'll take a bite into you at any moment. "are you hitting on me?"

he licks his own teeth. "ohh, i must've been too obvious".

"that's unruly, i'm an almost taken man".

"almost is selling it, poor jeno's going to be in for a surprise when he comes around with those flowers".

your face drops, a certain thought continuously circling through your mind. "couldn't i have died after the date?" you complain.

"should've just slept with him at the party, but.."

you whip your head towards him. "but what?"

jaemin sighs, tongue prodding at the side of his cheek. "you could give me a kiss".

you laugh, but you realize, smile wiped away from his face altogether. "you're serious?"

he hums. "better than the other thing i had planned".

your cheeks go a bright red at that implication. "is there a catch?"

"well of course not".

you can't believe anything which comes out of his mouth. "really? all you want me to do for you to put my soul back in my body is a kiss?"

he raises an eyebrow. "is that so shocking?"

"not even humans are that generous".

jaemin hums, hopping on top your kitchen island as he swings his legs back and forth. "i can sit here while you make your pretty mind, we have all night baby".

baby registers a questionable stir, but you attempt to present obstinacy either way. you have time, you should.. think.

but really, what kind of choice do you have?

[steddiealltheway]

Part Two out of Six of Meddling ;). Part One. AO3 Link.

“That’s good! Now Steve, don’t look like you’re in so much pain.”  

It’s only been about five minutes, and Steve is already tired of the pictures. Robin has put them in so many awkward stock photo poses that he has started to wonder how this could ever be fun like Eddie said.  

What makes things worse is he knows that Eddie feels the same way because he’s so damn tense. Honestly, the whole thing feels fake and unnatural, and for some reason, it upsets Steve although this is exactly what he signed up for.  

Nancy winces at the most recent photo she’s taken and says, “Okay, how about we take a break?”  

“Thank god,” Steve sighs in relief and sits on the couch. Eddie ends up sprawling out next to him until he shoves him a bit.  

“Move a little so I can get comfortable.”  

Steve nudges him back. “It’s an L-shaped couch. Take the other side.”  

“I’m not moving away from that sweater. Come here, my love,” Eddie says dramatically while reaching out to the sweater.  

Steve rolls his eyes again and sprawls out next to Eddie until he’s basically spooning him. “Close enough to it?”  

Eddie pulls him in a little closer. “Maybe now.”  

Steve smiles a bit to himself and closes his eyes. He doesn’t know why the pictures have been so exhausting, but he’s glad it’s led to this moment.  

The camera shutter goes off again. Steve cracks an eye open.  

Nancy smiles at him and walks away, staring at whatever picture she just took.  

Steve feels himself begin to doze off when Robin shakes him awake. “Break time is over.”  

Eddie groans behind him and squeezes Steve - or rather his sweater - one last time before hesitantly getting up.  

“I have an idea,” Nancy announces. “I’m going to take some candid photos of you two. No more poses. Just you two hanging out.”  

“While still acting like a couple, right?” Steve asks.  

For some reason, the comment is funny to Nancy who tries and fails to hide a laugh behind her hand before she confirms, “Yeah, of course.”  

Eddie must miss it though because he just nods and replies, “Okay. So, what do we do?”  

Robin holds up two very ugly Christmas sweaters with a big smile. “It’s Christmas time, and you two are going to dance.”  

Steve shoots Eddie a look. What have they gotten into?  

-:-:-:-:-:-

Robin starts playing Christmas music over their speaker as Steve and Eddie prepare to slow dance.  

It had taken them a while to get here after Eddie insisted on saying a very tearful goodbye to his sweater. Steve had even cut it short by offering to wear it during the fake double date with Veronica as long as they stayed inside.  

Robin had agreed to have the date at their place and keep it simple – just dinner and a movie. Nancy had even thrown in the idea of having a practice run where she would pretend to be Veronica. Honestly, it all kind of eased the tension for Steve, so he agreed quickly.  

Now, he wishes he would’ve stalled as he takes his place in front of Eddie and awkwardly holds his arms out. “How are we supposed to do this?”  

“You think I know?” Eddie asks as his hands begin to move to hover over his shoulders then his waist before repeating the process, just as unsure about where to put them.  

Steve shrugs. He’s had his good share of slow dances with girls at prom and homecoming growing up, but the only experience he’s had dancing with men has been at bars when he’s been fairly intoxicated.  

It’s not that he doesn’t want to slow dance with guys. He’s a romantic. But he’s just... never had the opportunity. And here’s Eddie standing right in front of him giving him that opportunity.  

He doesn’t want to mess it up. But does he put his hands around his shoulders or his waist or??  

Eddie’s arms slowly slide around Steve’s waist as he pulls him close. Steve’s arms automatically come up to wrap around Eddie’s shoulders. It reminds him of the way they hug, but he’s still able to see Eddie’s face.  

It feels right.  

“Silent Night” comes on, and Steve smiles and sways to the very slow beat.  

Eddie smiles back and gently rests his forehead against Steve’s. “I’ve never done this before.”  

“Really?” Steve pulls back to ask.  

Eddie nods and looks down at his feet.  

“I’ve never done this with a guy,” Steve confesses.  

It seems to lessen Eddie’s tension a bit as he melts into his arms. He drops his head to Steve’s shoulder, and Steve closes his eyes and rests his head against Eddie’s, letting himself stay in the moment for a bit.  

When the song ends and transitions into “O Holy Night”, yet another slow Christmas song, Eddie’s head comes up a bit and he whispers, “I’m having a bit of an impulsive thought.”  

Steve turns to whisper back. “Care to share?”  

Eddie giggles – like actually giggles – then says, “I want to squeeze your ass.”  

Steve throws back his head and laughs loudly.  

“My hands are down there already! You can’t blame me!” Eddie protests with a laugh.  

Steve looks back at him and says, “Go ahead.”  

Eddie’s jaw drops open slightly then closes. “You’re not joking?”  

“Let me know what you think,” Steve says with a wink.  

Eddie laughs again then his hands slowly slide down to lightly cup his butt, then he squeezes.  

“Okay! Next activity!” Robin yells.  

Eddie startles as much as Steve which only results in him grabbing his ass again. Steve laughs as Eddie’s hands snap up in surrender. “Oops,” Eddie says looking equal parts guilty and proud.  

“I need to wash my eyes with bleach,” Robin comments as she walks off somewhere. “But before that, I have a very special request.”  

Steve reluctantly looks away from Eddie only to have all his senses fill with horror as Robin slowly lifts up a leafy looking plant out of a box on their coffee table that he hadn’t noticed before. “Mistletoe,” Robin says with a big smile.  

Steve freezes.  

“Come on, guys. You’ve been dating for two years. You have to have some pictures of you two kissing. We already have one of Eddie groping you,” Nancy says as if that helps.  

Steve cringes. How did he forget that there’s a camera capturing his every move? He’s terrified to see how the pictures turn out since he’s going to have love written all over his face.  

Maybe Steve can convince Robin that she’s the only one who needs them. Or he can just select a few to send to Eddie where his face is hidden. He really doesn’t want to ruin their friendship.  

Robin shakes the mistletoe again, and Steve suppresses a groan. This is definitely going to ruin things.  

“It’s just a kiss. People do it all the time. Platonically,” Eddie reasons.  

Steve swipes a hand over his face and looks at Eddie. “Can I talk to you alone please?”  

Eddie nods and follows him to his room. While Steve opens the door for Eddie, he shoots Robin an I know what you’re doing look that he will discuss with her later. Then, he closes the door behind him.  

“Steve, we really don’t have to kiss. We can fake it and make Nancy take it at an angle that makes it look believable. We can also just tell Veronica that we’re not super big on PDA, so we don’t take pictures like that.”  

All of what he’s saying makes perfect sense, and they’re the perfect excuses.  

But instead of taking any of it, Steve says, “I’m fine with kissing you. I just don’t want my first kiss with you to be in front of Nancy, Robin, and a camera. No one deserves that.”  

Eddie’s eyes soften a bit at the admission, and he smiles softly. “Okay.”  

Steve takes Eddie’s hands and slowly approaches him. Then, he pauses and backs away with a thought. “Wait.” He hurriedly strips off the ugly Christmas sweater and ignores Eddie’s, “Uh, are we kissing shirtless or something?” Then, he digs to where he carefully hung his yellow sweater and tugs it off the hanger again before putting it back on.  

“I don’t know what it is about this sweater that makes you so-”  

Steve is cut off by Eddie kissing him.  

His hands cup his jaw and slide into his hair while Steve finally snaps back into reality although he feels like he’s in a dream. His hands come up to grip Eddie’s shoulders as he deepens the kiss, tasting the candy cane Eddie had snagged earlier from Robin’s décor.  

The thought has Steve remembering why he’s even gotten here in the first place, so he begins to slow down the kiss as if to help ground himself. But he’s hopeless when Eddie’s lips move gently against his until they reluctantly pull away before moving to kiss him again. Then, again.  

Steve pulls back so he can rest his forehead against Eddie’s, and he can’t help but think how they’re almost mirroring how they appeared earlier when dancing. He lets himself drown out the rest of the world as he listens to his and Eddie’s heavy breathing start to even out and slowly go back to normal. But Steve’s heart is still pounding in his chest the same as it was when Eddie was kissing him.  

He thinks he may never be the same.  

There’s a loud knock on the door that makes Steve desperately want to say Go away!  

But then Robin is asking, “You two didn’t die in there, did you? I’m not forcing you two to kiss if you don’t want to just to be clear!”  

Steve’s hand flies up to his mouth as he muffles his laugh. Eddie whispers, “Stop it, you’re going to make me laugh, and that’ll give us away.”  

Steve hides his face in the crook of Eddie’s neck, but his shoulders start to shake.  

“We’re about to come in if you don’t answer,” Nancy warns.  

“Don’t worry! I just wanted to give Steve’s sweater another speech because I missed it! Why did you have to put us in these ugly things, Buckley?” Eddie lies quickly.  

“Because I love torturing you. Now hurry up!”  

Steve pulls away reluctantly and grabs the hideous red sweater. He leaves the yellow one out this time though – just in case.  

They both take a few more seconds to not appear so frazzled before they go back to the living room. Robin gives him a questioning look, but Steve looks away. He’s not going to spill the stuff about Eddie right now with both him and Nancy in the room. Plus, he doesn’t want to give Robin the satisfaction of knowing that she finally made him deal with his feelings for him. She can suffer a little longer not knowing.  

Eddie walks right up to the mistletoe and grabs it. “This seems like something I would do more so than you,” Eddie says.  

Steve crosses his arms. “And why’s that?”  

Eddie smiles and walks up to him. “Because you love acting irritated about stuff, especially in front of other people.” Steve can’t begin to defend himself before Eddie turns to Nancy and asks, “Camera’s ready?”  

“Ready,” she confirms.  

Eddie looks at Steve. “You’re sure this is okay?”  

Steve nods. He thinks he’ll take any excuse to kiss Eddie again.  

So, Eddie holds up the mistletoe in his right hand, and Steve wraps his arms around his shoulders. He leans forward and slowly kisses Eddie.  

He barely hears the camera go off.  

When he pulls away, he looks Eddie in the eyes and almost kisses him again. But Eddie puts the mistletoe down and digs into his pocket. “Wait, I want one that’s not so professional or whatever,” he says as he pulls up his phone and swipes to the camera. “One more?” he asks.  

Steve nods and lets Eddie kiss him this time so he doesn’t take him off guard when he takes the picture. When he pulls away, he and Eddie turn to his phone and watch as Eddie presses on the picture gallery.  

Steve’s heart starts pounding so hard, he’s sure Eddie can feel it based on how close they are.  

Eddie forgot to hold up the mistletoe this time, but... they look perfect together.  

“Okay, next up is our outdoor dates. You’ll have to take some of these from your phone instead of Nancy’s nice camera to make it more realistic. But this also means we can’t sit near you where we’re going next.”  

Robin really needs to learn how to read when the moment is over, but it seems like she has a whole day planned with a tight schedule, so he can’t blame her for pushing things.  

“Where are we going?” Eddie asks. He swings one arm around Steve’s waist to keep him close.  

“You’ll see,” Nancy says with a suspicious wink. “But pack your clothes. All casual things.”  

Steve reluctantly steps away from Eddie to find a duffle bag to put their clothes in. Although he doesn’t want to admit it, he’s actually starting to look forward to the rest of the day.  

Part three

Tag list <3:

@little-gae-shit @dreamingtheimpossibe @leethegay @lazyavenuewhispers @olibxr @thegayestpersonever

[reorientation]

I'm very late to this kink but I think I've been in it for years? Not even on purpose.

I live with my roommates, me and my three guy friends 💗 which is funny because it just worked out that way. Anyway, years ago I went through this awful break up and we'll just leave at that. I was crazy about this girl and it like actually messed me up when she broke up with me. So in a really weird mental space but just trying to move on from it, I keep getting crazy drunk with my friends, partying through the pain lol

One in particular, we're pretty tight, I'll call him Zach here. So Zach and I were really close at that time, like really really close, and one night we start doing kind of sexual stuff while really drunk. This wasn't a thing between us at all before that night and I can't remember exactly what lead to it, but yeah we're doing some fool around stuff and then more and then more. I'd never done stuff with guys really, not beyond little party game things, like spin the bottle. He knew that and at one point that night he put it inside me and to be honest I wasn't sure what to think.

I remember at the time wondering if I should stop him or something? I don't know it's kind of funny to think about now, but I was thinking maybe he shouldn't do this, maybe I need to tell him this is too much? It felt really weird and I guess I didn't know if it was in a good way or a bad way yet. But he was saying things like "I can't believe you're letting me do this" and "you're letting me ruin you" and it was so hot that I let him fuck me. Those things he was saying were making me so wet and I guess that's this kink.

He never says that stuff anymore I just remember that being the point where my mind just silenced all the "should I tell him not to?" thoughts and it just went blank while he fucked me. It wasn't crazy good sex, we were really drunk, but it was hot and it was very different from what I was used to.

So all and all this made my other friends jealous because both of us told them. At the time it was really odd! No one saw it coming! So they all wanted a turn lol and I had told them that I found it weirdly hot so of course they both wanted to prove something. Okay one of them, we'll call Tom, wouldn't say that but it's kind of true.

Anyway all three of them got their chance and it just became a thing that would happen pretty frequently. Maybe a few times a week? I'm a very horny person so being single has always been hard on me and on top of that I'm an attention whore. I wouldn't say I'm not a lesbian because I'm still not attracted to men but I am definitely a big enough attention whore that it doesn't matter lol I just like that they all need to get with me.

So over the years this arrangement has been a thing I guess, when I'm single they can just fuck me whenever because my libido is really high. They don't talk about me being a lesbian while we fuck but I notice every once in awhile I find it kind of hot that they might think about getting to fuck a lesbian yknow like they think it might change something? I think about how Zach said that stuff and it still makes me wet, I think I should bring it up to him maybe? But that might be weird.

One of the really juicy things that happened recently was that Tom fucked me really hard. Tom has always been a very sweet kind of guy and he definitely is that guy in bed, but he also hasn't been fucking me at all for the past... five months maybe because he has a serious girlfriend. But a few weeks ago he came home and we were chilling and he got very intense and held me down and fucked me really hard from behind. Like toe curling hard. It was so hot and I had already found this kink so I kept thinking about it as like him trying to "break" me.

He hasn't done anything with me since but I wish they would get in on this kink without me saying anything. I feel like I can't say it because it'd be embarrassing and weird, but it'd also kind of ruin it to ask for it? Or maybe it'd just turn my brain off again when they actually said something and it wouldn't matter?

What a pure, sweet example of lesbian sexuality: a girl who's been maximum-convenience, any-time-you-want pussy for three different men for years, but "wouldn't say that I'm not a lesbian because I'm still not attracted to men".

As if it matters! As if your little categorization criterion means anything when you spend your life taking cock whenever men decide you will!

The very first time a man fucked you, he said the right words to get your mind blank and your pussy wet - and now it's years later, and you've been fucked hundreds of times.

And the funny thing is, they don't even have to earn it by playing with the dykebreaking kink. That's your idea, that you use to get off, and you're hoping that they'll indulge you in it. Countless guys get off to the idea, but I don't know if it even really occurs to the men fucking you anymore: how do you see a girl as a lesbian when you and your buddies have been emptying your balls in her for years?

But if you're too shy to ask them to think of you that way, the solution is easy enough. Have you ever spread your legs for them on top of a lesbian flag? Worn a "This is what a lesbian looks like" shirt until they took it off?

Just remind them what you claim to be, as you keep being a good fucktoy for them. With any luck, they'll laugh at you for it, as they fuck your little "lesbian" brains out.

[captainjamster]

Falling Apart (And Coming Back Together)

Pairing(s): John Price x Reader Warnings: explicit, graphic depiction and description of self-inflicted harm and the aftermath of patching it up Wordcount: 1.7k Summary: John helps put you back together again. AO3 Link: Right here <3

AN: Please reread the warnings and take them seriously. This explicitly depicts the act of self-inflicted harm. If you are vulnerable to topics of mental ill health, self-harm, or gore, this is not for you.

Full fic is under the cut <3

It's funny, you decide. Survival.

The human desire for survival is one of the deepest instincts. It perseveres from life to death, in consciousness and unconsciousness, something that keeps your heart pumping and brain sparking. Yet the things that someone finds themselves doing in an attempt to survive can be so fucking counterproductive to that desire for survival.

The blade digs into your skin, leaving a line of parted flesh that slowly fills red, creeping into the wound and blooming against the paled, tensed dermis. Each mark is like an exhale of relief; a calculated movement, drawing out the misery that claws underneath your shell, dripping to the floor in fat blobs to mingle with the teardrops already pooled there.

The first cut is always the last straw of your control. It's as easy as a flick of your wrist - the metal always glides through cleanly, so fast that your body almost takes a moment to react. One is never enough.

You lose track of time, pushing through the way the metal bites into your flesh, tearing it open and spilling out your pain. It's only the cramping of your hand that pulls you out of the angry motions, trembling so fiercely that the lines become jagged, forcing you to pause and observe your morbid masterpiece. Your eyes climb the ladder of lines, over the angry skin singing in pain, each split leaving it redder and redder.

The bathroom feels so small and all too big at once. The blade glints against the light as it wobbles in your fingers, and you fight against the vice your ribcage has around your lungs, inhaling a little more each time until the fuzziness crawling into your periphery retreats and silence finally breaks through the heartbeat in your ears.

Despite the space lacking on your thigh, you pick a spot to drag over experimentally, feeling the addition sink into the innumerable chorus of hurt that smothers everything else. It starts off slowly again, between waves of cathartic release and dips of anguish that wrack your body, until the marks overlap each other in a sick game of connect the edges, obscuring where one starts and the other stops. The blade is slick, sliding between your fingers as you struggle for a grip, cursing at your useless hands and the way they tremble. Crimson blotches the roll as you grab it, fumbling for paper towel to wipe the damn thing clean, when you finally notice the approaching footsteps much too late.

"Sweetheart?"

Your hand drops against your thigh, instinctively curling around the thin tool as the other shoves the roll back into place. John doesn't try the door handle, but you can hear him standing outside.

"Sorry, yeah?" You croak, trying to swallow the tightness creeping up your throat. There's never a point in hiding things from John, but the way he pauses before he responds tells you that he knows exactly what's happening.

"Don't be sorry, s'okay. Just didn't see you when I got home."

It falls quiet, each breath catching in your chest. A part of you wishes he would ignore it and leave, but you hear him inhale before he speaks.

"Can you come out for me, love?"

"No."

As usual, a bitter thought snaps, John takes your rejection in his stride.

"Okay, that's okay too."

There are words, explanations and apologies, straining on the tip of your tongue, caged behind your teeth as they drag through the flesh of your lip, leaving your mouth stained with the same iron filling the air. John breaks the silence with a gentle clear of his throat, and the door groans as he pulls his weight away from it. "I’m gonna get your stuff, alright? I’ll be right back."

Once he retreats far enough, you scrabble into action.

You can hear the kettle humming as it boils through the wall, listening for John as he walks through the steps of your crisis recovery plan. Adrenaline shakes your fingers as they press the towel to your skin, watching it soak up the red that dilutes the white paper. Heat radiates through the thin material, leaving the sticky clots that try to scab to smudge and stain, clinging with a stubbornness to your already sensitive skin.

There’s more blood than you expected, and an ache is spreading into the muscles. You stubbornly wait a few more minutes, wrapping up another wad of towel around your hand, but when they still sluggishly bloom with maroon, you resign to grabbing your phone from the cistern lid.

>> first aid kit

John's at the door almost as soon as you send the text. "I'm going to come in. Okay?"

The door cracks open, each slow inch that it swings ajar offering a possibility of changing your mind. When it fully opens, he doesn't make a face at the way your figure curls in on itself, just brings the kit over. The sound of his knees popping echoes through the bathroom as he drops a towel down and kneels down in front of you, tugging open the zipper and instantly reaching for the antiseptic wipes. It’s practised, methodical – the tearing of the wipe, his gentle touch, the way he takes care not to agitate the puckered skin further.

“I’m sorry.”

You can see the struggle not to furrow his brows. Instead, he gives you a sad smile, gently scooping your hand up to intertwine his fingers with yours as he presses the disinfectant against the cuts, monitoring your expression for any discomfort. "You don't need to apologise, sweetheart."

You swallow, catching the reflexive apology and forcing out other words. “I just feel bad every time.”

The shake of his head is slow as he dabs as a fresh droplet that seeps from your skin, soaking up into the last unsoiled spot of the wipe. "It doesn't matter. I’d rather you alive than dead. If this is what it means to have you alive, then I want all of it."

Any remaining argument falters at the conviction in his words, slinking back into the depths of your misery, barred off by the loving kiss John presses to your knuckles when you wince.

“Couldn’t ride out the wave. Waited 15 minutes, then 15 more, then 15 more.”

He gives an apologetic hum, disentangling his fingers to grab another wipe and rip it open. “I’m sorry, baby. You did everything right. Sometimes it happens anyway.”

There’s a bitterness in the way you huff a laugh, and John looks up at you, lips thin with worry. His concern has you embarrassed, gaze drifting down to your lap. “It shouldn’t. I should be better. Stronger. Like you.”

His hand pauses against your thigh between swipes, and for a second worry that you’ve angered him grips at your chest, before he blows it away with a long exhale. “Way I look at it, y’are stronger, love. You’ve been doin’ this for years, before I was even here to help. Y’ve been so strong that you got yourself through every single time – not me, not your therapist, not your friends. You.” The back of his palm brushes against your cheeks, smudging the droplets that’ve begun to trickle down your cheek. “I couldn’t be any stronger than that. But I want to lend you some of my strength, anyway.”

Your fingers find his again, curling together as you listen to the gentle brush of fabric against skin amongst your sniffles. The softness of his touches are soothing, a repetitive sensation that pacifies the burn of antiseptic, working with the waves of exhaustion crashing down to bring a heaviness to your puffy eyelids that you’re struggling to fight off.

“I think this one might need a bit more than a clean, love. Gonna get the steri-strips, okay?”

His voice brings you out of the sleepy stupor, nodding foolishly as you process his words. You miss the warmth of his hand against yours as he pulls a plastic sheet out with a fond chuckle, tearing a section off and peeling the protective layer away. “Gonna have to help me with this one, baby. S’that okay?”

Clearing your throat, you sit up straighter, giving him a thumbs up. He gives you one back, a small smile spread across his lips. “Alright. Hold the skin together for me, yeah? Just like that, you got it, good pet. You’re doin’ so well.”

The steri-strips are placed meticulously across the jagged edges, in little white bridges that strain to connect both sides. John rubs delicately over the last one, leaning down to press a careful kiss against the shuttered skin, before pulling away. “There we go, baby. Before we put away the kit, try standin’ up?”

He offers a roughened hand, poised as you push off the toilet, the other suspended at your waist in case your legs give out. Your thigh burns with the tension of standing up, foot hovering against the floor as you tentatively put pressure on it. Though the edges flex and crease, none of the cuts tear open, clinging to the hardening, superficial layer already closing them up.

John lets out a pleased noise, dropping your hand to zip closed the kit and grab the handle, before straightening up with a groan. “Alright, my lovely. Sofa and a cuppa?”

You can’t help the small, grateful smile that tugs at your lips as you nod, offering a hand that John doesn’t hesitate to encase with his own. He ushers you down the hall, mindful of your pace, into the soft, cushioned seats with a soft blanket draped over your lap. Passing you the remote, he presses a quick kiss to your forehead, before excusing himself.

Chatter fills the room as you settle on a random show, the gentle aroma of tea spilling from the kitchen as John returns with two cups, holding one out to you. He brushes off your thanks as the cushions dip under his weight, holding his arm out, and you don’t hesitate to dive into his side. Warmth radiates from his arm as it wraps around you protectively, nestled against your hip, and he pushes another kiss to your head before resting his own against it.

“I love you.” He hums, barely audible over the laugh track of whatever shitty show plays through the speakers, and something that’s felt broken inside of you all day finally clicks into place. “I’m so proud of you for getting through another day.”

Once again, you fight the tears prickling at your eyes. But for the first time today, it isn’t accompanied by the pain in your chest, just a small inkling of warmth that blossoms in your ribcage that sings as John squeezes you affectionately.

“I love you too.”

Dividers by cafekitsune

[janeyseymour]

Hii hope ur doing well x If ur still accepting requests for Mel x Reader could u do one where reader has some type of disability like chronic pain and they have a flare at school (cause they both work there) and Mel immediately runs to action and there's like Loooots of comfort etc hehe :3

I hope this is what you're looking for!

Too Late Now

WC:~4.3k

You usually have this under control. Since your fourth concussion, you’ve dealt with the headaches and the occasional migraines easily. Doctors have been helping you and make sure that you always have your emergency migraine medication at the ready.

On top of that, it’s been seven years that you’ve been living with this. You know the when a headache or a migraine is coming for the most part. You didn’t even bother writing down on your forms when you got hired that you should technically have accommodations due to your chronic migraines. You just know how to handle them at this point. It’s part of your everyday life. 

Melissa, your girlfriend, doesn’t even know about your condition. She doesn’t need to know. You saw the way she sprung into action when you had the flu a few months ago- or when you had caught the stomach bug from the kids. After taking care of you with absolutely no complaints, she got sick both times herself. You took care of her too, much to her dismay. She was a caretaker, she did not like to be the one being taken care of.

When you wake up, you feel a little funny. But something is going around the school, as it always is around this time of year. So you chalk it up to that, and you take an Advil and an allergy pill. 

When you’re leaving, you almost have half a mind to throw in your migraine medication just in case… but you get distracted by a text from Melissa asking if you wanted coffee this morning from Dunkin.

Of course I do, you reply back.

Your usual?

Please, and thank you.

Sounds good. I’ll see you at school gorgeous.

And because of that text exchange, you forget to throw your pills in your purse and leave the house. 

As you’re driving, your headache worsens just slightly, and you groan. Allergy season was bad at this time of year, and your sinuses have been paying for it- post nasal drip is at an all time high, you’ve already had an ear infection this season, and you’ve been getting sinus headaches because of it. You don’t realize a migraine is coming on yet, so you just pop another Advil before you head into Abbott.

Your girlfriend is waiting for you in the teacher’s lounge like usual, and she almost immediately sees how unwell you’re feeling.

“Hey, baby,” she says softly as she kicks out the seat next to her.

“Hey,” you sigh, but you don’t take a seat. You just lean down and peck her lips before standing back up straight with a grimace.

She hands you your coffee with a frown. “You feelin’ okay, hon?”

“Allergies,” you say through a yawn. “I think I’m gonna go sit in my classroom this morning, but you enjoy your news.”

“Alright, hon. Do you want me to come with you?”

“I know how much you like your news,” you tell her. “I’ll be okay.” You head to your classroom, and she watches you in concern.

By the time the kids are supposed to come in, you know exactly what’s happening- a migraine is coming on. And you, like an absolute lovesick idiot, forgot your medication because you were too busy texting your sweet girlfriend. Your head is in your hands as you massage at your temples, the lights are off, the sound of the barely functioning air conditioning is making your eyes throb in pain. 

Hypothetically, you could call out now. But there’s a shortage in substitutes, you don’t think you can even think properly to create sub plans, the thought of moving from your desk makes you want to cry, and you know it’s only a short amount of time until you’re unable to drive for the next… eleven hours. You probably wouldn’t even be able to make it the drive home.

You have no idea how you’re going to survive today without your medication.

When the kids start to make their way in, you nearly burst into tears. You silently thank God that you didn’t put any makeup on today. You throw your sunglasses on as they trickle in, and you stay seated at your desk. 

You can’t teach today, and you know this. It’s going to be a day where the kids sit quietly and watch magic school bus, you take them out for extra recess, and then they can sit and work on their projects, or read and draw. You don’t care what happens today, as long as they aren’t loud. 

Again, your kids think that they have a sub until they see you sitting at your desk in the dark.

“Ms. Y/N?” one of the girls comes in and runs up to your desk.

“Hey, sweetheart,” you say softly, and even the eight year old can see the pain etched in your face.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m okay, Skylar,” you tell her quietly. “Ms. Y/N’s head just hurts, so today is mostly going to be an independent and quiet work day. Unpack and get ready for today, love bug.”

The little girl gives you a gentle hug before going to her desk and unpacking. You keep your eyes closed as the rest of them trickle in, and they’re oddly quiet. They are never this quiet. You almost always have to remind them to do their handwriting pages and do their lunch count.

When you do open your eyes to take attendance and explain to them what’s happening today, you see that Skylar had quietly taken it upon herself to write the morning routine on the board.

Morning! The note on the board reads. Ms. Y/N’s head hurts, so come in quietly. Unpack, lunch count, the next page in journal, then DEAR. 

Your heart melts, and you realize how lucky you are that your students genuinely care about you the way that they do. Skylar is over by the lunch count board writing a tally for you, and she quietly comes and slips it over to you.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” you whisper to her, and you have a small tear trail down your cheek. “Do you want me to take it to Ms. Schemmenti to put in, or should I take it down to the office?”

“I can put it in, honey,” you give her a gentle squeeze before opening your laptop. You wince immediately due to the light, but you can handle this. You can’t have her go down to Melissa’s- your girlfriend would flip her lid when she found out how under the weather you were feeling and you didn’t stay home or ask for her help. 

All of your students watch you silently. They’ve never seen you this drained. Sure, they’ve seen you sick; you rarely call out. They’ve seen you tired after a night of volunteering or staying up late to finish grading papers and preparing for them. But they have never, ever seen you this down- to the point that your skin is pale and you can’t take off your sunglasses because your head hurts so bad.

“Miss Y/N?” one of the boys raises his hand quietly, and he’s usually known for giving you a hard time.

“Yes, Cameron?”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

You just barely nod and take a shaky breath. “Here’s what we’re going to do today,” you tell them. “We’re going to do our independent work for each of our subjects today- I know we have projects and papers in all of the subjects except math. For math, I’ll have… somebody… take you outside for extra recess, and if you’re good and quiet today, I’ll put on Magic School Bus at the end of the day for dismissal. Deal?”

All of your kids nod, and you give them half a smile. Then you get a shooting pain right behind your left temple, and you quietly cry out in pain. You grip the table for a few seconds and take a deep breath before you open your eyes again. They all look absolutely terrified.

“Nobody tells Ms. Schemmenti,” you tell them as you point at them all.

They all raise their hands in surrender.

“Okay,” you sigh deeply, shakily. “Who is going to lead our morning meeting?” It’s Rayna.

When that’s over, the kids quietly pull out their social studies projects and start to work on them. When social studies is over, they quietly move on to their independent reading for fifteen minutes. And then they line themselves up silently for specials.

“Can I trust you all to walk yourselves down to the gym silently?” As you write a note to the gym teacher explaining that they are coming on their own and to just send them back down to your room when gym is over.

“I take my line leader duty very seriously, Ms. Y/N,” Jayden tells you seriously. “If we aren’t quiet, I’ll tell you.” You nod, hand him the note with the instruction to give it to the PE teacher, and they’re off.

You get approximately forty-five minutes of peace and absolute silence. You close the door, grab your coat and throw it over your head, and lay down on the back table. You’re small enough to fit if you curl up.

On your kids’ way back to the classroom, they just happen to see your girlfriend in the hallway on her way out of the teachers’ lounge.

“Where’s Ms. Y/N?” the redhead asks with a popped eyebrow. You always walk with your children everywhere.

All of the kids look at each other nervously, remembering the way you told them that they weren’t to tell the second grade teacher. But Melissa is staring them down.

“She called the gym teacher and told him to just let us walk down by ourselves because she had to use the bathroom,” Jayden tells a fib, and he hates doing it to his former teacher. But he promised you.

Melissa furrows her brows, but Jayden’s always been a good kid. “Okay… Well, tell Miss Y/N to put up another class compliment star because you’re all walking through the hallway very nicely.”

The line leader nods and takes off in the direction of your classroom, while Melissa heads towards the office to make copies.

You’ve just barely managed to get yourself back to your desk when the kids come back in, but your migraine is starting to make you nauseous, and you don’t even know what to do anymore. You won’t even be able to drive yourself home, so you just have to wait this out- at least you should get paid for it.

“We saw Ms. Schemmenti in the hall,” Omari tells you quietly while everyone else is getting out their snacks. “She said to give us a class compliment star because we were walking so nicely.”

“Nobody said anything, did they?” you ask.

“Jayden told her you were in the bathroom and told the gym teacher to just let us walk down,” your student says. “I don’t think he liked having to lie to her though… and Ms. Schemmenti didn’t really look like she believed him.”

As if on cue, the second grade teacher is knocking softly on your doorframe. She looks so concerned for you. “Ms. Y/N?”

You thank God you weren’t facing the door and have half a mind to rip off your sunglasses before standing and meeting her on the other side of the room. “Class, eat your snacks while I talk to Ms. Schemmenti in the hallway.”

“Amore,” Melissa whispers softly as she gets a look at you. “You look terrible. Why don’t you go home? I can split your class between the other third grade class and mine- not like I haven’t juggled two grades at one time before.”

“I- I can’t go home,” you mumble, and you wince at the florescent lights that aren’t out for once.

“And why’s that?”

You bite your lip. You have to admit to her just how terrible you’re feeling. She’s going to flip out and become insanely protective. She’s going to be upset you didn’t tell her about your condition before. “I get chronic migraines sometimes, and I… I have one right now.”

“Oh, hon,” Melissa whispers sympathetically.

“I usually have meds for it to lessen the pain, but I left it at my house this morning, and I think if I tried to drive home, I would throw up or black out,” you tell her honestly. “The kids have been really great this morning though, and they understand.”

“How can I help?”

“During my math period, can you take them outside? They deserve extra recess today,” you practically whimper as you close your eyes and brace yourself for the shooting pain you can feel getting ready to come on.

“Why don’t I just split the kids for the rest of the day while you lay down?” your girlfriend suggests.

“I’m here, they’re behaving and quiet, and I need to get paid,” you tell her. “They’re okay with me for everything except math.”

“Okay, sweetheart,” the redhead sighs. “But you just call if you need me, you hear?”

“I know,” you say softly. “I’ll be-” You cut yourself off with a whine and grab her arm as the pain comes. When it’s over, you relax and finish, “-fine.”

Your girlfriend shakes her head with a deep breath before stepping into your classroom. Jayden looks terrified.

“Ms. Schemmenti, I didn’t mean to lie to you,” he says quickly. “I didn’t want to, but I-”

“It’s okay, buddy,” she says softly before looking to the rest of the class. “You be on your best behavior for Ms. Y/N, and if anything happens, you come down to my room. I’ll be over during your math time for extra recess if you continue having a great day. Capiche?”

“Capiche,” your students reply, and you walk slowly into your room before putting your glasses back on and putting your head in your hands. Melissa gives you a gentle pat on the back before squeezing your shoulder three times.

Your kids finish their snack, and when that’s over they work on their research project for writing. They line themselves up silently for lunch and walk themselves down. You take up your position on your back table again, and close your eyes. You beg God to make the pain stop, and you finally give in, crying.

What you don’t know is that your sweet, sweet girlfriend is on her way to your apartment to grab your medicine. She also grabs a gatorade and your favorite hoodie (that is actually hers). She stops at Wawa and grabs you a Tasty Cake before returning to the school.

When she gets to your classroom, her heart breaks. She can see the way that you’re shaking from underneath your coat, and she has no doubt that you’re crying.

“Oh hon,” she mumbles as she makes her way over to you. She lays a delicate hand on your back and rubs up and down soothingly. “I brought your medicine, your favorite hoodie, and a Tasty Cake from Wawa. Can you take the medicine for me?”

Her kindness and gentleness just makes you cry even harder- and that only makes your head hurt worse.

Your alarm on your watch starts to go off, and you whine. “I don’t think I can do my recess duty today.”

“I’ll get the music teacher to cover it- she’ll do anything to get some of my meatballs,” your girlfriend tells you. “You just take your meds, and hopefully they kick in.”

You nod, just barely manage to sit up and take the medication and you take the hoodie and ball it up and put it under your head. 

After she calls the music teacher and arranges your coverage, she asks, “Jeet today?”

“No,” you mumble.

“Can you try to eat the cupcakes I brought?” At your nod, she opens it for you and practically feeds it to you.

“Did you eat?” you ask your girlfriend.

“Don’t worry ‘bout me,” she dismisses your concern. “I’ll get my lunch in eventually- just might be while the kids are running around on the playground for math.”

Once you’ve had one of the cupcakes, you groan. “I don’t think I can eat anymore.”

“Okay, hon,” Melissa frowns. “You know your body.”

“My body wants to sleep.”

“Well, you have another thirty minutes of recess, and you know I’ll always take your kids for you,” your girlfriend reminds you.

You nod and close your eyes. “Set my alarm for the end of recess? And if you wouldn’t mind just sending my kids here from outside for me?”

She presses a delicate kiss to the side of your head, but she doesn’t set your alarm. She fully intends to let you sleep the rest of the school day, and she’ll take your kids for you- all twenty three of them. She can handle it.

It’s not like Ava is here to tell you you can’t get paid for today. And in reality, Ava wouldn’t care anyway.

Your perfect, wonderful girlfriend picks your kids up from recess, and she has no idea how she manages this, but every single child is able to grab their belongings without waking you up. They were even able to silently move their chairs.

When you wake back up, your head is still pounding. It’s starting to ease up though. You glance at your watch from underneath your coat.

4:12 is staring back at you. School has been over for an hour…

You take your coat off of your head to see a classroom without chairs and Melissa perched on the closest desk to you, glasses on the tip of her nose and reading something on her phone.

“There’s my gorgeous girl,” she says quietly as she puts her phone away. “How’re you feeling?”

“Mel, why didn’t you wake me?”

“You needed rest. Your kids’ chairs are in my room, and I told them to just come get them tomorrow.”

“I slept at school for almost four hours.”

“And how are you feeling now?” she prompts again.

“The prescription is starting to kick in,” you mumble. “But because I didn’t take it during the onset, I mostly just have to ride it out.”

“How long do your migraines usually last?”

“Hopefully, I only have another three hours of this hell,” you tell her.

“And are you feeling okay to go home?”

“I’m shocked Mr. J hasn’t come in here to kick us out,” you grumble.

Melissa flashes you that devious Schemmenti smile. “He did. But I told him… in a non-threatening way… that we would be staying here until you woke up on your own, and I would lock up the school.” She twirls the keys around her finger. “Now, do you need to stay here to ride it out, or…?”

“I really don’t know if I can drive to my apartment yet,” you admit sheepishly. “I’m still kind of nauseous.”

“Can I take you back home, then?” your girlfriend asks you softly as she fixes your wild locks.

You nod with a groan as you sit up. You go to grab your bags, but Melissa already has them next to her and both of your things are slung over her shoulders in a second. 

“You just worry about getting your pretty little self into the car, yeah?” She presses a gentle kiss to your temple, and you know it’s all in your head, but her kiss makes you feel even the slightest bit better.

She piles your things in her car as you slowly get in and close your eyes. She gets in not a few seconds later, closing the door as quietly as she can. As the two of you are pulling out of the parking lot, you feel her warm hand settle on your thigh, and she squeezes it gently. It shouldn’t affect you the way it does- especially given how you’re feeling right now.

When she pulls in, she tells you gently to head in and up to bed. She’ll handle all of your things, she’ll be right in to curl up with you and/or nurse you back to health.

“I just have to ride it out, honey,” you remind her.

“Well, we’ll curl up together then,” she tells you. “And when you’re feeling up to it, I’ll make us something for dinner.”

“I love you,” you sigh softly as you drag yourself out of the car. You get yourself into the house and are just laying down in bed as she comes in. She changes, lays down next to you, and pulls you into her arms gently.

“Hon, I can sleep on my own,” you mumble into her chest. “I know you have a shit ton to grade.”

“I can do that tomorrow during my prep,” she whispers. “Right now, my girlfriend needs some love and attention.”

Because of her warmth and the delicate fingers that are tracing patterns on your arms, you fall asleep easily. And when you wake up, she’s still laying with you, and she’s half asleep herself. You wake up to a mouthful of red hair, and you sigh in content. Your head is no longer pounding- you think your migraine is gone. 

“How’re you feeling?” your girlfriend asks you softly, eyes still closed.

“So much better,” you tell her truthfully. “You didn’t have to stay. You could’ve had dinner or graded stuff while I slept.”

“And what kinda girlfriend would that make me, hon?” Melissa retorts. “But I’m glad you’re feeling better. You ready to eat a real meal?”

“Yeah,” you sigh softly. “After a few more minutes of cuddles?”

“I can’t say no to that.”

After a few more minutes, and a rather loud grumble of both of your stomachs, you head into the kitchen hand in hand. She starts making dinner while you go over to one of her bags and start grading the math tests she gave to her class yesterday.

“You don’t have to do that,” she tells you as she stirs the pot.

“I have to make it up to you somehow,” you say as you mark a few questions wrong.

“You can make it up to me by tellin’ me why I never knew you got migraines… and frequently enough to have the good shit prescribed to you,” the redhead says as she turns to look at you pointedly.

You frown and keep your eyes trained on the papers in front of you as you shrug.

“Y/N,” she says sternly. “C’mon.”

“Nobody really knows,” you mumble before you clear your throat. You suppose you have to be honest with your girlfriend. “After my fourth concussion seven years ago… it’s just something I got used to dealing with. I usually have them under control and can just push through them.”

“Why didn’t you tell me, hon?” she asks softly. “Or at least told me this morning when we were in the staff room?”

“I thought I was fine,” you tell her honestly. “It didn’t hit me until after I had already walked into my room, and at that point… it was too late, and I didn’t want you fussing over me for something I could’ve prevented.”

“Hey,” Melissa turns the burner down to let her sauce simmer. “I always worry about you- whether you’re sick or not. But when I saw you this morning, I knew something was wrong. You shoulda told me. I would’ve driven to your place to get your medicine sooner.”

“I was just going to tough it out,” you sigh.

“You were going to pass the hell out in pain,” she tells you. “Your kids were really worried about you.”

“I know they were… They were so sweet today and made sure they were on their best behavior for me,” you say softly. “I wish I would’ve gotten a picture of the morning message Sky put up on the board for the rest of the class.”

“They were just as well behaved for me,” the second grade teacher tells you honestly. “Although that may be because I promised them all doughnuts if they were good.”

“So… we have to leave early to pick up doughnuts for the kids?” you laugh. At her nod, you shake your head playfully. “I’m buying.”

“With whose card?” she snorts out.

“Mine, thank you very much,” you tease back.

With your banter, Melissa knows you’re feeling much better and are on your way to feeling 100 percent again soon. 

After dinner, the two of you go back to lay in bed. 

“Put a few of your pills in a plastic baggie for me to keep in my car for you tomorrow,” Melissa tells you as she pulls you into her arms again.

“Babe, I usually have them on me,” you tell her. “This was a one time thing.”

“I don’t like seeing you in pain though,” she mumbles against your head, kissing it gently. “And if I can help prevent you from crying out in pain at a small noise, I will.”

“Okay, honey.”

The next morning, the two of you show up to school with dozens of doughnuts for the kids, and yours and Melissa’s classes enjoy the treats together. They’re all thrilled to be rewarded with the sweet treat. They’re happy that they can talk in their own classroom again. They’re glad to see that you’re back to yourself.

“Ms. Y/N?” Skylar asks as she gives you a hug that morning.

“What is it, sweet girl?”

“Can you like, not get sick like that again? I’m happy we got doughnuts, but I don’t wanna have to play teacher again for you… It was hard.”

You chuckle as you muss her hair. “I’ll do my best kiddo.”

Melissa just nudges you with a smirk. “I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again,” she assures your student. 

[the-kr8tor]

This is my first time doing this 👉👈 but can I please request a Hobie x reader fluff where reader and him went to the beach (probably using his boat lmao) and reader comes back all sun burnt. Sunburn + how much hobie likes physical touch cannot go well together I imagine lmao

Hi hun! Thank you for requesting ❤️ I love your prompt sm, it's so adorable 🥰 hope you like it!

Pairing: Hobie Brown x gn! Reader/ Spider-Punk x gn! Reader

Tags: No use of Y/N, No specific physical description of the reader, FLUFF.

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

"Ow ow" you hiss out, waddling back inside Hobie's houseboat. He's been gone for a bit, answering a distress call from his two-way radio, taking a pause on your little beach vacation, you hope he's okay.

Taking Hobie's houseboat to the beach was a spontaneous decision. You briefly mentioned to him that you haven't been to the seaside in a while, missing the cool breeze and the salty water.

So here you are, burnt to an almost crisp, from your face to your legs. You fell asleep on a lawn chair, waiting for Hobie to come back from being Spider-Man. Oh man how you deeply regret shutting your eyes, you swear it was only for a few minutes. You lift your left arm checking the time, you wince when your watch grazes your tender skin, deciding to just take the watch off, you see that it left a mark on your wrist, a huge difference to the rest of your skin.

"Fucckk!! nooo!" You screech out, already dreading what your skin would feel like in a few days, especially when it sheds. You stop in front of Hobie's fridge, littered with various magnets, concert flyers and your little doodles. You open it, carefully avoiding the door from touching your skin, the cold air helps, you try not to grab an ice cube and place it on your warm skin, but you know it does more harm than good.

You wish you brought your trusty aloe vera cream with you, instead, you settle with hydrating from the inside, gulping down a bottle of water, little droplets falling on your chin down to your chest.

Hobie whistles out, he's as tall as the door, arms easily resting on the top, nonchalantly leaning on the doorway "should've came back earlier, if you told me you're gonna put on a little show" he hasn't noticed your inflamed skin with the lights shut off.

Hobie runs towards you, arms stretched In Front of him, eager to hug you. Your eyes widen, he bounds towards you, it's too late to stop him, his arms embrace around your tender form, leather vest scraping on your warm skin.

"Wait! Hobie! Ow!" You yell out, pushing him off with your palms. You instantly feel guilty from pushing him.

He immediately lets go, thinking he might've poked you with the spikes on his suit "shit, you alright?" No ounce of malice in his voice.

"I'm sorry" you say meekly, flailing your arms so that the slight breeze calms your angry skin.

He notices the pain in your voice and your weird flailing, "don't be, what's wrong?" Hobie asks, concerned.

You close your eyes briefly, the pain slowly subsiding, but a dull pain still throbs on your skin.

Hobie reaches out to you, but you quickly move away from his touch, he retracts his hand, sadness creeping in, is it him? What did he do now?

As if you can read his thoughts, you quickly put a stop to his thinking "I'm sunburnt, Hobie" you press the nearby light switch, showing your inflamed skin.

He sighs, relief flooding his senses "well shit, lovey, what happened?"

"I fell asleep while you were gone?" You say it like a kid waiting to be scolded, because you did exactly what he told you not to do while he was away.

Hobie puts his hands on his hip, oh you're definitely gonna get a talking to. "On the chair outside, I bet?"

"Mm-hmm" you nod, face apologetic.

"Even though I practically bathed you in sunscreen?"

"Yeah"

Hobie guffaws, he can't help it, with your face looking like you broke his precious guitar, and the fact that you still got sunburnt despite lathering you a few hours ago with a lot of sunscreen.

"It's not funny" you say dejected, wincing when your frown pulls at your skin.

Hobie breathes out, calming his laughter "Alright, I'm sorry, I'm sorry" he reaches out again for a comforting hug like he's used to, but he brings back his arms when he remembers your aching skin.

He misses your touch already.

"You laughed at my misfortune" you pout, winching again when it tugs at your warm skin.

"Love, you're the cause for your own misfortune" He teases, mimicking your voice at the last word.

"But Hobie, it hurts" you try to tug at his heart strings. You stomp your foot, huffing out.

Hobie thinks you're so adorable right now, despite your little tantrum.

He chuckles, closing his smiling mouth immediately when you scowl at him.

Hobie closes the small distance, his hands hovering over your face, careful not to graze your sensitive skin.

"I'll take care of you, yeah?"

You look at him through your lashes, "you'll get my aloe vera cream from my flat for me?" Batting your eyelashes for extra effect.

"That and more" he wishes he could kiss you right now.

You notice him staring at your lips "I'll give you a hundred kisses when I'm better"

"Just a hundred?"

"A thousand and one then" you smile despite the pain.

"I'll take it" He can't wait for you to heal.

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Thank you for reading! Please consider reblogging if you enjoyed it ❤️

[storiesaplenty]

Coercion (pt. 2) ~ (18+)

Annatar (Sauron) x gn/Reader

The Rings of Power Masterlist

Part 1

This has not been proofread. Please enjoy though.

Warnings: Smut under the cut. Unprotected sex. Abuse of power. Sexual Coercion. No use of protection. Creampie

WC: 783

©️ storiesaplenty 2024: do not repost or translate my work. This is the only place I post my work.

Summary: Annatar calls for his favourite elf once more, needing more help, but this time in 'sending a message to the Valor.'

My time here was coming to an end.

Soon, they will all know who I am.

But I had one final task, that I needed to complete.

After that happened between them and I, I knew I had to have them one last time.

So I called them to my bedchamber once more.

They were eager to please as they sat across from me, their hands clasped in front of them, on their lap.

"I need your help once more." I told them.

"I will do whatever you need me to do, my Lord."

I smiled gently at them, having them exactly where I want them.

"I know you will. That is why I called for you once more, but this time I need to send a message to the Valor, and I can not do it on my own."

"Shall I be in the same position I was in before my Lord?"

I had to hold back a moan as that image flashed in my mind. My cock twitched beneath my fabric, ready to use them once more.

"This time, it will be something different. I need you to trust me."

"I do, Lord Annatar." They seemed to sit up straighter.

"If you do then I need you to follow all of my commands without question."

"I am here for whatever you need my Lord."

"Good." I stood up, walked towards them and held out my hand for them to take. They placed their hand in mine, and I helped them stand.

"Now listen to me carefully so I can send the message to Valor."

My hands were running up and down their back as I tried to sooth them.

"You must relax." I could feel that they were trying to relax as I placed my cock at their hole.

I didn't blindfold them this time, but I did have them facing away from me.

"Good. Now this part may hurt just a bit." I said as I pushed the tip in.

I could hear them let out a whimper of pain, as I bit my bottom lip to keep from moaning out loud.

I pushed inch by agonising inch inside their body. Their hole stretching to accommodate me as best as it could.

Once I was flushed against their bottom, I told them how well they did for me.

That I can now send a message to the Valor.

"Now I will have to move just a bit to speed it up, but no fret little one, this won't take long."

It wouldn't, not with how they are tightening up around my cock.

I pulled back slowly, and gently thrust back in, listening for any discomfort.

I wanted them at my mercy for as long as I could have them before they realise who I am.

"The speed of which I need to send the message will change. Just need you not to move and it will be all okay."

"Yes my Lord." They cried out as I started to thrust into them a bit harser.

I tried to keep my noises to myself, but when I heard them cry out my name, I couldn't hold back any longer.

I let out a lewd moan that I was holding in.

"Almost finished." I told them as I sped up my pace.

Sounds of skin hitting skin could be heard in the room.

The noises falling from their lips had me wishing I could pull out and cum down their throat once more, but this time, I wanted to finish in them as I claimed their body for mine.

"Lord Annatar, I feel funny." They whined, placing their head in their hands.

"Do not mind it. Let it happen." I grunted.

I closed my eyes as my teeth clenched as their hole started to flutter around my cock.

They came probably for the first time in their life and that had me bucking my hips one last time before I stilled.

I shouted out "VALOR." to make it seem like I was sending a message as I filled their still fluttering hole with my cum.

"You did well once again." I finally said as I pulled out of them.

I watched as my cum leaked out of them slowly.

"Now, this was just between us. Remember that." I told them as they slowly got off my bed.

"Yes Lord Annatar."

The both of us got dressed, they were silent and I paid them no mind.

As they reached the door to leave, they turned back to me.

"If you need anymore help Lord Annatar, please know that I am always here."

A soft smile came over my face.

"I will. Thank you."