#plus my schedule is all messed up and I have a lot to do this month soo 🙃

[heartshattering]

I think a lot about how much I love my puppy and how I want him to live forever even though he is so young and healthy and I've only had him for less than a year...

When I'm holding him I just start crying because I can't imagine how I'll cope without him even if it ends up being something I don't have to face for another 14 - 16 years if I'm lucky. Hell, he is most likely going to outlive my parents tbh. He might be all I have left by then and I'll end up losing him too. God I really do wish there was a way he could live forever and never leave me. I treasure him so dearly and it's genuinely making me sob right now even if it might sound silly but I can't help it...

[baby-yongbok]

Ex

Boyfriend!Hwang Hyunjin x Fem!Reader

⇝ Genre: Angst then Smut then angst again. Dirty Drama.

⇝ Summary: We all have that one toxic person that we can’t let go of.

⇝ Warnings: Cheating , Arguing/Yelling, Dry Humping, Crying, Hyunjin is toxic - the manipulative type. (I think that's all, let me know if I missed anything!)

⇝ Word Count: 2.9k

⇝ A/N: I'm sorry in advance. I live for the drama, I'm so so sorry. My depresso has been prompting me to write angst and this is what I came up with today. It might be intense? I don't know honestly. All I know is that writing angst makes me happy lol + reader is depicted as chubby/plus size and is a POC ♡ I hope that you enjoy! Please don't hate me 💕

✧ Part II ✧ Masterlist ✧

It started with him forgetting coffee dates. The small chunks of time that the two of you carved out of your day to spend with each other quickly turned into bottled Starbucks drinks and ignored texts while you made your way to work. He said that it was because of his schedule and Hyunjin would never lie to you. 

Next were your nightly video calls. The two hours that you’d spend talking about your days and making future plans morphed into double and triple texting him until he replies with a lackluster night time send off and a declaration of love that you have no choice but to imagine leaving his lips. You haven’t heard from him in forever but it’s okay, you can fix this. 

You’re an artist, a digital artist for a living but a painter as a hobby. This trait is one of the many things that you and Hyunjin bonded over so when you proposed that the two of you do Paint and Sip dates on Friday nights he was all in. Everything was fine for a couple of weeks, you’d pick the picture and you’d both get to painting while you listen to your shared Spotify playlist. You’d talk and laugh while sipping whatever wine he brought with him, everything was finally feeling normal again but there was one thing that kept bothering you. 

His phone.

 It kept blowing up, vibrating, dinging and lighting up throughout the night. You’ve always understood that Hyunjin is a busy guy and his friends may need to reach him at odd hours of the night but there was something more to what you saw. He would ignore a message or two from Jeongin or even decline Chan’s calls from time to time but whenever his phone lit up with that damned flower icon he’d drop his brush like his life depended on it. 

You figured that as long as he’s here with you everything is fine. You never liked to micro manage and you're not the jealous type so snooping around wasn’t something that you were very into, until he canceled on you. Again. This is the third week that he’s said that something has come up and that he’ll be over at your place late. When you read his text you were already staring at his laptop wondering if it was really necessary to snoop through his cloud and read his texts. Surely he had a reasonable explanation for this right? Hyunjin would never lie to you. Right? You wanted to be right so badly and when you opened the computer, put in his password and clicked on the cloud you found out that you couldn’t be more wrong.

“What are you still doing up?” Hyunjin asked as he tiptoed into your bedroom. You were sitting at your desk with your phone in your hand, staring at your screen.

“How was your night?” You ask as you swipe on your phone, your eyes never leave the screen but Hyunjin doesn’t seem to notice.

“It was fine, got a lot done.” He turns towards your closet door but stops when he processes the mess around him. “Are these my clothes?”

“Yeah, you’re going to pack all of that along with whatever else you have around here and you’re going to leave.” He stares at you with pinched brows and then he takes in his scattered belongings again.

“What?” 

“You’re going to pack your shit.” You stand from your chair, glaring at him with narrow eyes. “And you’re going to go stay with her.”

You can practically hear him choke on his inhale once your words hit his ear. “Who are you talking about?”

“I can always make time for you just give me the date and the place.” You read from the screenshots illuminating your screen as you stalk towards him. “I hate when you ignore me, you know how much your attention means to me.”

“Stop it.” He turns to face you completely, watching you with worried eyes glazed with guilt.

“It doesn’t matter who I’m seeing, you know that you come first.” You project your voice so that it echoes off of every surface, he doesn’t get to avoid this. “Call me, I need to hear my baby.”

“How did you find those, you -” He sighs as you cut him off, practically yelling the next message.

“You left too many hickies to cover this time, I’ll return the favor on Friday.” 

“Enough of that, enough.” His tone tries to match yours but it fails, falling off into a pitiful whisper at the end. “You went through my computer?” 

He looks over at you with a cocktail of disbelief and disgust smeared over his features but you’re more than sure that the look on your face has got him beat. “ You’re fucking your ex.”

“It’s not like that, it's -” You cut him off, taking a wide step towards him.

“It’s not like that? You’re begging her for her time. You’re texting her every minute of every day. You’re fucking her and then coming here and fucking me, Hyunjin.”

“I know, okay I get that you’re mad, I’m sorry I just can’t let her go yet. It’s like there’s a piece of me that only she has possession of and no matter how much I try to ignore it I just can’t.” He runs his hands through his hair, his eyes taking in the way that your gaze cuts into him. 

“It’s been a year. I’ve been with you for an entire year. When did you have time to start this? How long have you been fucking her?” He shakes his head, turning towards the bedroom door to escape the situation in front of him. You follow hot on his trail, repeating your question. “How long?” You ask over and over until he finally snaps, yelling his answer in the middle of the living room.

“A couple of months, I don’t know five or six? Maybe even seven I don’t fucking know.” You scoff as rage floods through your veins and you pick up the nearest object and chuck it at him with all of the force you can muster. He dodges it easily but he doesn’t have as much luck with the remote that follows the path of the last item. “ Yara, stop it.”

The hiss in his voice turns into a loud gasp once he realizes his mistake. “Excuse me?” He called you by her name. His ex's name. 

“Fuck, I- I didn’t mean to call you that, angel, I swear it’s because we’re talking about her. That’s all. You’re not her, you’re so much better I swear. Let’s just - just talk about this okay?”

“There’s nothing to talk about. I want you out of my house, now. I’m done, Hyunjin. I’ve been begging for your attention for months and you’re off giving it to someone who’s using you for sex and attention. I did so much, I’ve done everything, but clearly you love fucking so much that you fucked me over. Are you proud of that shit? Are you happy?” He takes a couple of slow steps over to you as you stand there, chest heaving and heart heavy with the sadness that has allowed your burning anger to be the star of the show until now. Maybe if he shows you that he wants you, maybe if he says that you two can fix this you’ll consider believing him.

We all have that one toxic person that we can’t let go of. He’s not at fault for being bound to her so tightly, even if he broke your heart in the process. 

“Listen, angel, I love you so much. I want to be with you, I really do, no one else has fought for me and my time like you have. I don’t want to lose that, please let’s just talk about this. I’ll do anything for you, I swear.” Your glare softens, call it wishful thinking or maybe you’re blinded by the desperate burn of love in your chest but you believe him. You believe him just enough to let him splay his long fingers over the curve of your hip and pull you closer to him.

“Why do you need me if you have her?” You stare at the middle of his chest, watching it rise and fall.

“Because you love me in a way that she never could and never will.” He leans down, pressing a kiss to your temple as he brings his other hand to your waist. “She doesn’t see me like you do.”

He kisses over the shell of your ear, making his way down your neck. Your body is pressed against his as his hand kneads at the swell of your ass and he runs his tongue over the sensitive skin of your neck. You exhale heavily, bringing your hands up to rest on his biceps. You want to push him away, you want to get to the bottom of this and talk to him, so why are you pulling him closer? Why are you allowing small moans to leave your lips as he hypnotizes you into forgetting what he’s been doing to you.

“Hyunjin, stop it.” Your voice falters on the last word, giving way to the whimper fighting to escape your throat. 

“Push me away.” He whispers into your ear, his soft lips brushing against the shell of it and setting your nerves on fire. “If you mean it then push me away.” 

He stops everything, he doesn’t kiss you or squeeze you, you can hear the soft sound of his breathing and feel the gentle beating of his heart as his chest is pressed against your own. You can’t do this, you shouldn’t do this, your brain is screaming at you. You know better than to fall for this, push him away, now. Do it. 

“Don’t stop.” Your eyes flutter shut when he squeezes your ass again, pressing your hips into his so that the bulge in his pants pokes your belly button as it twitches in anticipation. 

“Say it again.” He plants a whisper of a kiss over your temple. “Say it again, angel, say my name.”

“Don’t stop, Hyunjin, please.” His kisses get sloppier as he gets closer to your lips, he plants a sloppy kiss to the corner of your mouth before catching your lips with his plump ones. You sigh into him, your hands fisting his shirt as your tongue tangles with his. He moans into your mouth, his hands tracing your hips as he takes some steps back, leading you both to the couch. 

“Tell me that you forgive me, baby.” He sits once the frame of the couch hits the back of his legs, dragging you down with him so that you're straddling his hips. His bulge pressed firmly into your dripping heat and you can’t help but to grind against him. Before you can settle into a steady rhythm Hyunjin grips your hips, holding you still against him. “Tell me.”

“I forgive you.” You mumble, the words sound just fine when they roll off of your tongue. They taste sweet as you lick your lips, staring into your lover's eyes defeatedly. You’re too deep into the brain fog, too desperate to feel the love that you’ve been chasing for months. You’d say anything just to feel Hyunjin touch you. You’d do anything to keep him here. 

“I knew you would.” He smiles up at you, starting to guide your hips against him. You throw your head back, your face contorting into a mask of pleasure. Hyunjin's fingers trace your jawline, sending chills down your spine. You close your eyes, allowing him access to any part of you he desires. “You need me too. Just like I need you, don’t you?”

You nod your head, picking up the rhythm of your hips as he starts to roll into you, matching your pace flawlessly. “I do, oh my god, I missed you.” You babble into the hot air as your hands find purchase on his shoulders. You can feel the night scarf covering your hair slip over the crown of your head and fall to the floor, your unruly hair frames your face and Hyunjin can’t help but to moan at the sight. 

“I missed my pretty baby too.” He grunts, eyebrows pinching together as he watches where your clothed cores press into each other. “Oh, fuck, I missed you so much.”

His hands are all over you as you move against him like he’s trying to memorize the pattern of your skin. He’s reintroducing himself with every pulse point that he can reach, lighting every inch of your skin aflame with desire. “Tell me your mine. Tell me you love me, please, please say it.”

“I’m all yours, angel. All fucking yours.” His hips buck up into you as your movements become more sloppy, your climax is dangling right in front of your face. It’s burning in the pit of your stomach, a strangled moan drags from your lips as you get closer to it.

“Again p-please, please, so close ‘s so close Jinnie, again.” Your nails dig into his shoulder, whimpers following your fucked out sentence as your eyes watch Hyunjin. You watch how he bites the tip of his tongue as he gets lost in this bubble of pleasure with you. Your own perfect shield of hot desire. 

“I love you.” He moans, throwing his head back against the couch, his grip on your hip tightens. The strength of his grasp is brushing yet delicious. “I’m yours. I’m all -” 

The melodic sound of Hyunjin’s phone ringing cut him off before he could finish his sentence. His head snaps up as his eyes widen and he stops moving against you. “Get off.”

You whimper, confused eyes staring down at him through your fucked out fog. “Angel, move.” He pushes you to the side much rougher than he intended and you watch him as he stands quickly, pulling his phone out of his back pocket and swiping the green button immediately. 

“Hey.” He clears his throat trying his best to not sound like he was seconds away from coming in his pants. “Yeah I can do that, just give me like twenty minutes, okay?” 

You listen, coming out of your haze just enough to process the situation. That ringtone sounded familiar, it’s the one that he always answers… It's her.

“Hyunjin.” You reach forward, grabbing his wrist but he pulls away, glancing back at you for just a second before turning his attention back to the phone call. 

“Nothing, that’s no one, I’m on my way.” You scoff, watching as he ends the call and starts to frantically fix his clothes. “I have to go something um - something came up.”

“You’re fucking kidding me.” Hyunjin ignores you, making his way over to your bedroom with you following close behind, a mirror image of what happened minutes ago. “You’re going to her? 

“She said that she needs me and I don’t -” 

“You just told me that you were mine. You just said that, Hyunjin.” You grab his wrist, prompting him to turn to you. He stares down at you with furrowed brows and glassy eyes like he’s in a fog, like he’s been hypnotized to follow a specific instruction. 

“And you said that you forgive me.” He reaches up to cup your cheek and your body melts into his touch before you can even fully process it. “I’ll be back tomorrow, angel. I’ll be yours tomorrow.”

His touch is gone just as fast as it came, leaving you with an empty ache in your chest as you watch him grab his bag and jacket. You stay rooted in place, feeling like your heart has been ripped out of your chest. “Hyunjin.” 

There’s a tremble in your voice as you say his name but he doesn’t seem to mind, it’s like he didn’t even hear you. “I love you.” He leans in to kiss your temple but misses completely, planting a half hearted peck against your hair as he rushes towards the door. You watch as he leaves, quiet and stunned. There are a million thoughts going through your head but you still feel unable to process what had just happened. The sound of the front door closing is what draws you out of your thoughts. 

The silence surrounding you allows room for the reality of the situation to echo around you, bouncing off of the walls and drowning you in this painfully unfamiliar feeling in your chest. You take a sharp inhale as tears start to prick at the back of your eyes. What was supposed to be a stable step towards your bed leaves sinking against its frame. You find yourself grasping one of Hyunjin’s shirts on the floor beneath you, your eyes trail from that garment to the next frantically. He’s everywhere. You can smell him, the soft cotton of the shirt makes you feel like you can feel the beating of his heart beneath it. Tears blur your vision as you sob into the fabric, clutching onto it like it’s all that you have left of him. Maybe it is. You gasp, a choked sob struggling past your lips as the true weight of the moment finally settles on your shoulders.

We all have that one toxic person that we can’t let go of.

[nonotnolan]

Swap Broker: Social Climbing

Seeing James in a suit, Clay suddenly felt a bit self-conscious about scheduling a meeting at his modest apartment. The car that James drove was probably worth more than this entire building. Still, that was part of why he was hiring James in the first place. Clay was trapped in the lowest income tiers of society, and upward momentum was unheard of. He didn't regret dropping out of high school to take care of his younger brother when their mother passed-- their father had never been in the picture-- but now that his brother had a full ride to college, it was time to take care of himself for once. If he wanted any sort of life outside of minimum wage retail work, he was going to have to take drastic action.

"Legally, I have read you a few disclaimers before we begin," James said, pulling out some papers from his briefcase. "You are purchasing my services as a swap broker. This does not guarantee that I will be able to match you with another customer, and some customers may request additional payment. My servicing fees must be paid up front and in full. The body real estate market is new, and may be subject to new regulations at any time. You cannot trade more than ten years plus or minus your original date of birth, and any attempts to defraud security regulations will result in legal action, up to and including life in jail. If either client is able to prove misleading or fraudulent claims about their new body within the first 30 days, the swap will be reversed. Customer dissatisfaction is not a valid reason to reverse the swap process, so care should be taken prior to confirming purchase. If you agree to these terms, your payment will be considered a legal signature."

Clay paused, staring at the wad of cash in his hands. "You, uhh… you do take cash, right? I didn't even think about trying to get a money order."

James simply smiled at him. "That will be fine, Mr. Clay. It's not standard, but for you I will make an exception. Truth be told, I'm already making a few exceptions for you, but I've been able to pull strings to have it classified as charity work. Besides, all of your of the mandated background interviews have come back with glowing recommendations, which is why I have no issues taking such a risk on you."

"And I appreciate that, don't get me wrong. All the same, I… I'm just worried that no one will want to take my life in exchange for theirs," Clay said, kicking the carpet with his boots. "But anything will be better than this, and … well, I'm trusting you, James. I'm trusting you to find something for me."

"I actually do have a very promising lead for you, if you're willing to take it," he said, adjusting his necktie. "It's a very unusual situation, which is why most of my clients have not accepted this body. But for you… honestly, this might work. My client is local businessman Richard Hargrove, but the body for trade or sale is the body of his son, Aiden Hargrove. It's… legal, technically, though I'm not convinced Aiden fully understood the paperwork he was signing."

Clay raised an eyebrow. "Let me guess… Richard expects great things from his son, but his son isn't matching those expectations?"

James nodded. "It's a tale as old as time, and it's a lot of emotional baggage to carry over into a new life. If you want to inherit the family money, you'll have to make certain that you keep Richard appeased. There's going to be a lot of family drama, while most people on the market for a new body are looking for a swap with no strings attached."

"No strings, you say," Clay said, absent-mindedly scratching his chest. "How often are people swapping bodies, anyway?"

"Honestly, we're starting to see a lot of designer body circles where people swap bodies every few months like clothes. People are trying to establish winter bodies, vacation bodies, bodies for formal events… it's a bit of a mess out there right now. But most people don't want to be locked into a new body forever, which… is what Mr. Hargrove is looking for. But since it sounds like that is what you're looking for as well... here's a photo of Aiden," he said, passing a headshot over to Clay.

Clay could feel his cock stirring to life in his jeans. Aiden was incredibly attractive. He also looked like an insufferable spoiled rich kid, but… well, that was probably true. "James, this man is gorgeous. There has to be some sort of catch, more than just the family drama angle you described."

"Well… yes. As a part of the swap agreement, Mr. Hargrove is requiring that the person taking his son's body signs a five year habitation agreement. It includes a stipend of $100,000 spread across monthly installments, but it states that you will only be able to contact your prior family through written, voice, or video correspondence. Nor will you be able to contact any of your prior friends ever again. For most people, that's a complete dealbreaker. For you, however…"

Clay couldn't help but laugh. "My younger brother is going to college several states away, so I already have limited contact. And the closest things I have to friends are people who are nice to me at work." He paused, taking off his cap and squeezing its brim as he thought it over. "I really don't have anything to lose," he said. It felt odd to say it aloud, but… he hadn't fully realized just how much he had been putting everyone else's needs over his own until it was pointed out like this. "I always knew it, I mean… it's why I hired you, I just… I never quite thought about it like that. James, I accept. Whatever you need me to sign, let's do this."

James smiled. "Excellent choice! I'll put in an offer this afternoon, and I'll be in touch with the next round of paperwork. It's not official yet, but given that Aiden's body has been on the market for over five weeks, I can't imagine that we're going to get any resistance."

------------------------------------------------------

"Alright, so that was four strokes, which puts me at… +8," said the new Aiden. "Not great, but at least I'm slowly improving. Ready for the next hole, Dad?" The first week or two had had its share of uncomfortable moments, but he was slowly easing into the expectations of his new life. Now, after a few months, life as Aiden Hargrove was becoming second nature.

Richard smiled at him. "I'm proud of you, you know."

"Agh, Dad…" Aiden said, feeling himself starting to blush.

"No, I mean that," he said. "It was hard enough having to disown my first son… I was so worried about who my new son was going to be. But you… you're hard working, you're dedicated, you're sincere… how could anyone not be grateful? I'm… I'm bad at knowing how to show people that I care, Aiden. Too much tough love, they tell me. And if I'm going to start training you to take over the family business, that will only get worse. Which, I will be training you, son, you've picked up on sales like it was second nature. So… when we leave here, and I'm back to being a dick… it's because I expect a lot from you, okay? I'm proud of you even when I'm not showing it." Richard leaned in for a hug, which Aiden returned with an awkward embrace.

"Also, son, I keep meaning to ask-- have you been getting your dick wet?"

Aiden felt his stomach drop out from under him. "Jesus, Dad! That's not… do we have to talk about that?"

"You're almost thirty," Richard said, folding his arms. "It's well past time for you to get married. I'm not going hold sins of the old Aiden against you, but people are already starting rumors. An eligible Hargrove, unmarried? It's unheard of. I don't even care who you marry, as long as they make at least $150,000 per year. Are you gay? I've seen the way your eye wanders in the country club's sauna. The old Aiden was straight as an arrow, but we can smooth that over easy enough."

"I… yes sir, I am a gay man," Aiden admitted, as he desperately prayed for the ground to open up and swallow him in. "I haven't, uhh… I haven't had sex in this body yet. I've been focused more on living as the new Aiden. Adding a relationship to things felt… complicated. Especially since the thought of a queer scandal had me afraid to… pursue things, as it were."

Richard waved a dismissive hand. "Well, start pursuing them. You're a Hargrove now. We don't have scandals, we just have bribe money. Your mother and I are going to be celebrating our 40th wedding anniversary next year, and I expect to you be engaged by then. I need everyone to see that you are a force to be reckoned with."

------------------------------------------------------

Aiden leaned against the bar of the country club, waiting for his date to arrive. It was easy to adjust to the trappings of his new life, but he hoped to never fully lose sight of his roots. The navy suit he was wearing tonight was a designer piece that cost about two months of his old life's salary, and he was about to spend over ten hours of minimum wage labor on a single dinner. The universe had managed to reward all of those years of thankless labor with the opportunity to live Aiden's life, and it wasn't something he ever wanted to take for granted.

Trying to date as a gay man looking for marriage was complicated enough. Trying to date men who fit his new father's limited criteria was proving to be almost impossible. Most of the men who checked off all of the necessary requirements were either straight or insufferable-- but usually both. All the same, Aiden had high hopes for his date with Hunter. Unlike his previous dates, Hunter came into his wealth by creating and then selling his business at the right time. Hopefully that lack of a privileged upbringing would make him a tolerable human being.

Dinner with Hunter proved to be everything that Aiden had hoped for, and more. They were able to hold actual conversation, shifting from topic to topic without his date trying to brag about prior accomplishments or disparaging Aiden's interests as puerile. It was taking all of his restraint not to mount Hunter right there, in the middle of the dining room.

"Would you like to join me on a brief walk?" Aiden asked, once their meals had been finished and billed to his family's tab. "You'll have to forgive me if I am being too forward, but I took the liberty of reserving one of the... private cabana rooms at the edge of the grounds." His eyebrows waggled as he emphasized the word private, and the flush on Hunter's cheeks confirmed that the innuendo had not been lost on his date. Aiden swelled with pride as he observed the outline of Hunter's erection against his blue slacks as the man stood up, the most sincere sort of compliment he could receive. His own manhood was straining against his silk boxer briefs, and he found himself hoping that Hunter was sneaking glances.

"I... do have a confession, before we get too serious," Hunter said, as they strolled across the greens. "This is not my real body. My swap broker arranged for a three month loaner, while my real body is...being acclimated to my new wealth, shall we say. I'm paying someone to lose weight at the gym, whiten my teeth, develop a suitable skin care regimen... that sort of thing. And once I do get my body back, there will a wardrobe and hairstyle adjustment period..." He started to tug nervously at his collar. "Just a temporary side effect of being new money. I hope you don't find that too scandalous."

Aiden gave him a warm smile. "Far from it, I assure you. Your newfound wealth and status is part of your charm. It means you don't have any of the odious habits of my peers." He wrapped a possessive arm around Hunter's waist and pulled him close, a trophy to be displayed. "Besides, that sounds like an incredibly smart usage of a swap brokerage contract. If things get serious, I'll have to tell you about my own family's dealings with swap brokers."

[vscabarca]

Heyy could i request a fermin fluff fic where the reader is overworking herself with college stuff and not really taking care of herself. Fermin noticed it and helps her relax. Thank you:)

summary: fermín helps you relax after you‘ve overworked yourself with schoolwork.

genre: fluff

a/n: thank you anon for your patience🫶🏼 hope you like it!

———

Biology books scattered around the coffee table, notes laying around your desk and various folders laid splattered around the bed. Your whole apartment was a mess as you haven’t tidied it up in days, if not even weeks. The upcoming exams in biology, maths and chemistry had been stressing you now for quite some weeks now, making you neglect everything else around you. Even though you started early with studying, it still didn’t satisfy you at all. Being a perfectionist was a blessing and curse at the same time. You didn’t even realize how your friends and family started to worry. They knew you weren’t the best in handling stressful situations, you never have. But you didn’t even realize how bad you were doing, you just kept going until you hit the breaking point.

Fermín, your boyfriend of two years, knew how you were doing during those phases and did not like it at all. He hated hearing you cry from overworking yourself, he hated how you didn’t look after you. Even more difficult was that he had a stressful schedule himself. University and football prevented him from coming over more and spend more time with his girl. Fermín mostly came over at night, sleeping at your place and heading to practice again early in the morning. You two tried to savor this time as much as you could, but right now it was very hard. The last time he came over was weeks ago and the worst part was, you didn’t even realize. You were too deep in schoolwork to notice anything.

Fermín grew more than concerned over the past days as you weren’t picking up calls and only vaguely replied to his texts. The cherry on top was a call from your mother, asking him how you’ve been. The next afternoon he stood in front of your door, a bag with your favorite snacks and small bouquet of flowers in his hands.

You looked up from your notes confused, asking yourself who would be at your door at three in the afternoon. You stirred downstairs, hairs falling from your bun and wearing clothes you haven’t changed in days. You peeked your head outside and immediately smiled when you saw Fermín standing there.

„What are you doing here?!“ You squealed, throwing your arms around his neck.

„Seeing how you’re doing!“ He replied with a laugh and gently led you inside. After setting down his bag and gifting you the flowers, he embraced you in a long hug and just relished the feeling of having his girl back in his arms. His eyes quickly wandered around your flat, eyes widening as he saw the mess of notes laying around everywhere. Dishes were piling up in the kitchen and just overall did it look like a bomb exploded.

Fermín then heard you sobbing quietly and only then did he realize you started to cry.

„Hey, hey, don’t cry. Everything‘s alright.“ He whispered and rocked you slowly from side to side. Just all the emotions caught up on you and you couldn’t help but tear up when thinking about it.

„I‘m just exhausted. Plus I realized I‘ve neglected you, my family and my friends. Now I feel bad.“ You weren’t crying much, just some individual tears rolling down your cheeks.

„Don’t feel bad. They already knew you had a lot going on. We‘re all here for you. We already knew you were overworking yourself, your mamá even called me.“ He chuckled and wiped away your tears. You giggled lightly, feeling much better already.

„C‘mon, why don’t you take a shower while I prepare something for us to eat. I bet you haven’t cooked something properly for yourself.“ You shook your head but liked the idea of a shower and feeling fresh afterwards.

„Why don’t you join me?“ You mused, trying to seduce him with your idea. After all you haven’t seen him for quite a while.

He snickered at your words but shook his head softly. „Trust me, I wouldn’t want anything more, but you need to relax. Ask me again tomorrow.“ Fermín winked and shushed you towards the bathroom. You took a steaming hot shower while he, unbeknownst to you, tidied up your whole apartment and laid out fresh clothes for you. Your heart swelled when you realized and gave him a sweet, tender kiss to thank him.

„Thank you.“

„Nothing to thank me. I just need you to look better after yourself amor.“

Dinner was served quickly after and after you two were done, he hushed you to the living room while he did the dishes. Fermín prepared a cozy movie night but as soon as he had you snuggled up close to him under the fuzzy blanket, you fell fast asleep in his arms.

[verilly]

On my knees for some post-Mithrun fluff rn.

POST MITHRUN FLUFF? I gotchu 😎 it’s going to be bullet points b t dubs, just so I can catch the right mind set… THANKSYU 4 THE REQUEST ILY <3

Mithrun x Reader

•••|•••|•••|•••|•••

Right. So after canon he heads back to Melini (with you, of course) to scout out monsters and demons with his side hustle of making noodles! So as a noble yourself, you follow him to help achieve his dreams!

However, Mithrun is still ticked off at the part where reviving isn’t a plausible option after death, so he’s extremely careful with you. So much so that after a month or so with you trailing with him on his search for monsters, he tosses you in the noodle shop (with the land he had claimed with his noble blood).

At this point, he’s been so surrounded in his want for monster/demon blood that he hasn’t exactly made any progress with the noodle making… and well, neither have you. So there you sat, alone in a big restaurant, with no customers at all, no one to keep you company or to keep you entertained!

So that’s when you decide to try to cook noodles on your own!

You grabbed as many how to guide’s you could from books all over your country, which included recipes from the western territories all the way to the eastern islands! You even scrounged up some old tattered papers from the ex-canaries, Senshi, and the trash.

Collecting herbs, grains, and whatever monster-like ingredients Laios sent to you through the mail.

You decided to keep most of your habits a secret from Mithrun, or at least as you can from him because you wanted to be the one to teach him when the day comes he wanted to pursue his other desire. You always schedule your time practicing for when he's away, and Mithrun being the man that he is always has a set pattern on doing things. Meaning he always came back home almost at the exact same time everyday.

The only other times he'd come home at a later time is when he gets lost, for he has the time of his life navigating the city streets. (This is rare because he likes using his teleportation magic a lot more than actually walking.)

So on this very special day, once you've decided your skills are up to the test, you served him home made noodles. Not only were they home made, so was the sauce/broth. You were quite proud of making such a delicious meal, now it was time to share your talent with your lover.

"Mithrun, wake up, I have a very special breakfast to share with you!" You say, pushing him back and forth from his sleeping state. You'd waken up hours earlier to prepare for this momentous occasion.

No response.

Maybe you should have planned the scheduling better? This was earlier than usual for the ex-captain to wake up... No! You were his partner, he should wake up for you!

"Mithrun wake up!!!" You groan loudly, stopping all your movements before shoving your face into his blanketed stomach, "Please please please please!"

With no words to utter, Mithrun begrudgingly arose from the bed, sitting right up to face you. You beamed with excitement as he looked to face you.

"Why don't you join me down at the resturaunt floor? I have set up something quite amazing down there." You put a finger to your chin and smile, "Plus I think you'll like it a lot!!"

Down the steps the two of you went, where in arrival was the bowl of noodles you had prepared only minutes before. They were served with scallions, mushrooms, a pantry load of seasonings, and whatever meat you had bought fresh from the market a day before.

"What is this?"

"It's noodles! That I made.. for you... 'cause you said you wanted to make them yourself and.... I can see where I messed up a little, but I did it so that I can help you in the future! When you wish to fufill your desire of noodle making!!!" You sheepishly say, a much smaller smile creeping up on your lips.

"I never said you messed up." He said smoothly, teleporting away from you and into the seat in front of the food. You follow closely behind him, sitting at the seat next to him.

"Go on, take a bite! It'll be all for nothing if we run out of time and you need to go out monster hunting." You tilt your head to the right, clasping your hands together.

He looks down at the meal in front of him, and his good eye flickers up and down between you and the noodles. After a few seconds past he picked up the nice utensils you placed next to the bowl and took his first bite.

"So how does it taste? Do you like it??!"

"I don't feel anything in particular for it." He murmurs calmly.

"Ah." Your world view shatters for a moment, before sucking in your pride, "So what makes you feel that way? I thought it was really good, but our tastes are quite different from each other..."

"It's a little too flavorful for me, but I'm... grateful that you spent so much time perfecting this for me. How long was it? A few months?"

"What!!? How did you know that I was..."

"You can't hide things from me, [name]. You'll never be able to succeed."

You stare at him for a second before collapsing on the table before you, "Arghh! I totally thought everything was going to go great, but as it turns out... Mithrun is just too good for me." You pull the bowl towards you, taking the utensils from Mithrun's hand, "And if you don't like it then you don't need to eat it."

"It's not my taste, but I don't mind. Please, I'd rather not leave any left overs, especially if it's a meal from you." His face seemed to soften as he said those few words, and your face reddened in response, letting out an "oh" as you correct your posture.

"Well then if you have time off anytime soon, you could stay here and I could teach you how to make your own noodles that suit your own taste. Then we could actually open the resturaunt to the people." You say sweetly, looking down at the food, watching it dissapear by each passing minute, "I'm sure every being here in Melini would love to eat food made by the hands of a noble. Maybe even the Canaries can home, I'm sure they'd enjoy a meal made by their captain."

"Mm... I'll stay here for today. My desire's growing after eating this d- uhm. Delicious meal you made for me." He states simply, putting the empty bowl and utensils to the side.

"Alright then." You get up from the seat next to him and take his hand, "I'll teach you everything I know." Another smile perks up on your lips as you pull him to the kitchen.

Mithrun in a kitchen. Who could've guessed?!

He's not very skilled at cutting, buthis use of magic fills in the void quite perfectly.

You help him a lot, which includes taking his hands in yours when he begrudgingly uses the knife.

He likes your touches but not the “weapon” in his hands.

You also teach him to pound the noodles, which you usually put lots of energy into, but for him not so much. You have to fill in for him most of the time.

There will come a day where Mithrun won’t go out on expeditions and instead stays with you in the restaurant, for a long time.

And to him, he wouldn’t want to spend his last few (hundreds of) years any differently.

•••|•••|•••|•••|•••

I tried to make it flufffy I don’t know if this is fluff

I hope you liked it :3 pls keep sending me stuff it’ll take like a day - ish for me to fill it out but I def will!!!!!!!

My masterlist is on profile :3

Lots of love, Yours truly.

[dead-boys-club]

†  my idol : hawks.

❥ scenario: hawks and his idol s/o. ❥ no triggers; not rated. ❥ i don't have any beta readers - you get what you get. ❥ requested!

❥ be thankful i don't write nsfw c: + idk if someone's gonna get all offended over this, so i'll say now, there's a lot of fan slander in this lol talking about crazy fans, stalker fans, etc.

✧*̥˚ hc type things *̥˚✧

can i just start with this would actually be one of the cutest pairings for him?

let me start off with saying that he is absolutely going to be your number one fan. he's going to be so proud of your achievements as an idol. his schedule as a hero would make it difficult but he'd do his best to attend events and concerts, anything he could squeeze through. he'd be offering quite a good amount of public praise, making sure you knew he supported you along every step of the way. at no point would he be embarrassed or ashamed - he's doing everything he can not to be in the air with his lightstick, let's be real.

there is one thing he may have trouble navigating and helping you to navigate: balance. keigo is used to an overly busy life but the moment he sees your schedule, he's realizing it's never actually been that bad. he's immediately going to be asking if you're even taking care of yourself - if you know anything about kpop idol lifestyles, you'll know the concern is very much warranted - but he's going to be worried. however, he would respect it and your choice to pursue such a lifestyle, doing his best to help with making sure you're okay, helping with the pressures of fame and whatnot. his biggest concern, outside of your health, is going to be the privacy of your relationship. with both of you being so well known, the last thing he wants is your personal life to be put on a chopping block and make things even more difficult.

keigo often makes the comments of 'if i can' or 'possibly' when you ask if he'll be at an event but he does his best to show up and surprise you. even if he can't stay, he's there long enough to bring flowers or a small gift, reminding you that even if he's not there, he's still cheering you on. amidst busy schedules, he would do his best - even if it just meant sending a feather your way.

if anything, keigo is considerably patient. he can't exactly get mad at your busy schedule when his own isn't all that empty. you would both have to work with accommodations. and he'd totally have some silly, flirty comment about sneaking around. you'd have a moderate amount of quality time together, even if it meant him dragging you out of a window in the early hours. willingly, ofc.

he would be very, very protective when it comes to your privacy and personal space. fame attracts unwanted attention and he knows that; he doesn't want you to face something because of it. and, if i'm honest, i don't think many people would be too stupid to mess with you - the last thing they'd want to face is him being pissed off. he would definitely use his influence to aid in the overwhelming media and fans that don't know boundaries.

✧*̥˚ little things *̥˚✧

❥ spiderman kisses: not exactly the same but it's something he does when he's in a hurry and you're not supposed to be out. the first time he did it, he almost hit his head on the balcony railing. he honestly didn't expect kissing someone upside down to be so challenging.

❥ voicemails: god, you both have so many voicemails saved from each other. you've sent plenty to him of song snippets and sitting in the corner of the recording studio. he generally sends little rambles while flying, telling about his day and random things he's thought of. plus, always asking how you are, checking in on you.

❥ feathers: it's a cliche in writing for hawks but, i can't deny it's fitting. he's going to have a feather on you when you're within range for it to matter. it's how he makes sure you're doing okay.

❥ little notes: hawks likes to leave little notes for you when you part. hidden within your bag, between your clothes, etc. he generally knows your schedule but his own can be unpredictable. so, when you'll be away for a little while, he likes to leave you things you can read and have with you.

❥ keepsake boxes: about a year into being together, while out on a little break, you came across a section of little wooden boxes at a shop. it was a date night that you both sat and decorated them together, keeping all the notes, trinkets, stubs, etc in.

✧*̥˚ small scenario *̥˚✧

keigo landed at the venues back entrance the moment the door opened, his wings fluttering a bit when his feet touched the ground. the moment you popped out and smiled brightly, he couldn't help but pull you into his arms, squeezing softly before you could even speak.

'hey, pretty bird,' you greeted, voice full of excitement.

'hey, superstar.' keigo cooed, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. 'ready for a much needed break from the spotlight?'

all it took was a nod for him to scoop you up into his and lift up into the night sky. you were used to it, just holding onto him and closing your eyes, letting your mind rest from the rush of performing, just wanting to be normal for a while.

the flight didn't last too long and soon enough, you were carefully being set down on a secluded rooftop. out of habit, you left his side to approach the edge, looking over the city with bright eyes, sparkling even more in the moonlight.

taking a deep breath, you stretched your arms up. 'this is so amazing, it's so pretty up here,' you sighed, turning on your heel to look towards him. 'you know.. does it make me sound bad to say i like that i can gloat about private stargazing sessions with the number two hero?'

keigo let out a soft laugh as he spread out the plush blanket, shrugging. 'would it make me sound bad to say the same thing about you?' he asked, gesturing you over. 'thought it'd be a nice change from the usual post show routines. less people.'

as both of you settled on the blanket, lying side by side, you enjoyed the distant, dulled hum of the city. it was a nice change from being crammed into a van or just going home to rest, both of you needed something nice every now and then.

the blond spoke first, head turning to look at you. 'how was the show? anything memorable happen?'

you shrugged, not taking your gaze away from the stars. 'just the usual. overzealous fans wanting attention, the offhanded comment during the meet.. i'm pretty sure one of them is convinced we're going to get married? which, i can't complain.. i used to sit and think that about heroes and idols and stuff when i'm was younger but still.'

laughing, his eyes lit up with amusement. 'sounds like you're handling fame pretty well. i've dealt with my fair share of -- is it wrong to call fans 'crazies'? mine just usually come with the whole 'save me from the villain' request when there's.. no real villain.'

'nah, i don't consider the ones who act like that real fans.. i think real fans respect boundaries, don't you think?' you responded, a hand raising up to reach for the sky, fingers wiggling. 'i'm sure dealing with supervillains is a lot more fun than dealing with autograph requests. i wouldn't trade you though, i enjoy what i do.'

'fair, yeah.' keigo sighed, reaching up to collect your hand. 'we both have our ways of brightening people's days. even if it means dealing with a couple of weirdos.'

silence fell over the rooftop for a moment, enjoying each other's company under the beauty of the night sky.

'i was thinking,' he began, gingerly playing with your fingers, 'we should do this more often. escape the chaos, find quiet moments like this.'

finally, you turned your head to look at him, leaning close enough to bump your noses together. 'that would be nice.. sounds like a dream to relax and spend time together without a million eyes on us.'

'so, what do you say? more rooftop dates?'

you smiled, squeezing his hand. 'as long as you keep flying us up to spots like this, i'm one hundred percent in.'

with that, you closed your eyes and he looked back towards the sky, just enjoying the time before you were putting on the news as missing and he was unavailable. the conversation drifted around from playful jokes and confessions, little flirty comments and sweet thoughts. it didn't last forever but anything was better than nothing.

[nctnanajaemin]

"my brother's bestfriend" pairing:lee jeno x na!sister reader word count: 1.4k chapter four

MINORS DNI warnings: smut, unprotected sex (reader is on birth control), fingering, cursing, use of pet names (baby)

it's almost nine and you're craving a coffee from the shop down the road but don't want to go alone so you decide to text jeno.

you grab your wallet and walk outside to his car.

"so what made you want coffee at this hour?" he asks, putting his hand on your head rest and looking over his shoulder to back out of the driveway.

"was craving it i guess. plus i won't be sleeping anytime soon, so the caffeine won't effect me."

"and why aren't you going to sleep anytime soon."

"my sleep schedule has been messed up since i got back."

"you weren't sleeping very much when you were at school either, though."

"yeah. but that was because I was stressing over assignments. now it's different. i just can't fall asleep."

he stops at a red light and looks over at you. "that's not healthy. you should go to the doctor."

"it's not that serious. why are you so worried anyway?"

he sighs. "because i care about you, but you love to act like you don't know that."

"care about me or care about what i can do for you." your voice came off more condescending than you intended, and you could immediately tell you struck a nerve by the irritated expression on his face.

he pulls over into an empty parking lot and turns towards you. "why do you always have to say shit like that?"

you bite your lip. "it's the truth, isn't it? you said earlier you didn't care and then asked me to suck you off."

he's quiet for a second and runs his hands over his face, letting out a frustrated sigh. "i do care about you. i always have. we were friends before we started this whole thing started, y/n. do you have any idea what it's like to watch you run yourself into the ground? to see you not sleeping, not eating right, not taking care of yourself? and then to hear you say that all i care about is what you can do for me?"

you open your mouth to respond, but he cuts you off. "i've been there for you through everything. through all the stress, all the sleepless nights. and yeah, maybe i asked for things i shouldn't have. maybe i crossed lines. but it's not because i don't care."

"then why do you feel the need to act like you don't?"

"because it's easier. if i act like i don't care, it's easier to pretend that i don't have feelings for you."

you never once thought the feelings would be reciprocated.

he grabs your hand, holding it between his firmly. "i don't want to pretend anymore."

your stomach ties itself in knots. "then stop pretending."

he lets go of your hand and moves his to your face. "i'm sorry for the way i've been acting. for making you think you were just a body to me."

you let out a shaky breath, wrapping your arms around his neck. "i'm sorry for thinking you don't care about me." you tell him softly, your noses almost touching.

his eyes wander to your lips. "can i kiss you?"

you nod, and he wastes no time in bringing his lips to yours, moving slowly but firmly. he grabs your waist and pulls you onto his lap.

his tongue slides across your bottom lip, and you part your lips for him. his grip on your waist tightens, fingers digging into your skin as the two of you make out.

you grind against him, and he pulls away to start kissing down your neck. "jeno," you breathe out. his kisses turn into sucking and you fight back a moan. "no marks above the hoodie."

he hums against your neck, kissing a path down to the collar of your hoodie before pulling away. "can we go in the backseat?"

you nod and the both of you quickly move to the backseat.

you pull your hoodie off, and as soon as you get settled, he is pinning you down against the seat and is covering your chest in hickeys. "no shirt or bra?" he asks as he grinds his hips against yours.

"you should know by now that i don't ever wear anything under hoodies."

jeno laughs, his breath hot against your skin. "right, how could i forget?"

his hands roam down your sides, making their way to your waistband.

you lift your hips slightly to help him slide your pants and underwear off. he tosses them aside and returns his attention to you. "you're so beautiful."

you reach up and cup his face, pulling him in for another kiss. he presses himself against you, grinding his hips again. this time in a slow, tantalizing rhythm.

"tell me what you want."

"i-i want you."

"you have me." he runs a finger in between your folds and groans at how wet you are. "you're soaked," he mutters, inserting the finger into you and immediately adding another, thrusting them at a rapid pace.

your moans fill the car, and you clutch at his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin. "jeno, please," you beg, your voice desperate and needy.

"patience, baby." he tells you, curling his fingers upwards inside you.

his fingers continue to work their magic and get you to the brink of climax.

"come on, let me see that pretty face you make when you're about to come…" he coaxes.

just when you are about to come he pulls his fingers out. you let out a small whine from the loss of contact and he brings his fingers to his mouth, licking them clean with a satisfied hum.

you undo the string on his sweats and he pushes them along with his boxers down just enough to free himself before putting your legs over his shoulders.

"ready?" he asks, looking down at you as he positions himself at your entrance.

"yes."

he slowly enters you, giving you time to adjust before starting to move.

"you feel so good," he groans, his thrusts becoming more urgent.

you pull him closer, your lips finding his again. this time, the kiss is messy and desperate, mirroring the way your bodies are moving together.

the windows fog up, and the sounds of both of your pleasures fill the small space.

you feel the tension in your stomach return and grip his biceps. "i'm gonna-"

"me too," he grunts, his movements becoming more erratic. "come with me, baby."

with one final thrust, you both tumble over the edge, your bodies trembling with the force of your orgasms.

he moves your legs off his shoulders and collapses on top of you.

you both lay there for a moment, catching your breath and basking in the afterglow.

"you okay?" he asks as he nuzzles his face into your neck, pressing soft kisses to your skin.

you smile, running your fingers through his hair. "yeah."

"i meant what i said earlier, you know. i don't want to pretend anymore. i don't care who gets pissed off. i want you."

you brush your thumb over his cheek. "me either," you say softly. "i want you too."

he smiles against your neck and leans back to press a gentle kiss to your lips.

after a couple minutes, you get dressed and settle back into the front seats.

"you still want coffee, weirdo?" jeno asks, starting the car.

"yeah. i'm just going to get a small though."

"probably a smart choice. put some music on." he tells you, driving towards the coffee shop.

you grab your phone from the cupholder as he rests his hand on your thigh.

you flip your phone over and there's a message from jisung on your lockscreen.

"what?"

"what?" jeno asks, looking over at you.

"jisung texted me and told me not to get mad."

you quickly put music on and text him back.

"so… jisung knows now."

"they all are going to know eventually. it doesn't matter." he glances over at you with a smirk on his face. "you wrote about me in your diary though?"

"oh, shut up."

chapter three | chapter five

--------

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@nosungluv

join the taglist here!

[veltana]

Mutual Satisfaction - Avengers!Bucky x Avengers!Reader

✦ Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Reader

✦ Word count: ~3k

✦ Rating: Explicit

✦ Warnings: One shot, pwp, A LOT of dirty talk, dom/sub dynamics, dom!Bucky, sub!reader, manhandling, piv, slight dumbification, pet names (angel/master), safe sex, condoms, cum shot, aftercare, fluff (because I neeeeed it!)

✦ Summary: "Was it because of what I said," he leans forward to whisper into your ear. The warmth of his body pressing against yours even though he's not touching you. "Did your tiny little brain think of all the ways I could fuck you until you're a mess?"

✦ Note: This is nothing but pure self-indulgent smut, that's heavily dialogue-based. Let me know if you like it! (It's also posted on AO3)

Masterlist | AO3

The chime from your phone makes you look away from the TV screen.

"Sorry, one sec."

You find it buried under some pillows but the excitement you initially felt quickly turns sour when you see the response. With a sigh of disappointment, you drop it and return to choosing a movie together with Bucky.

"Bad news?" he asks as he flips through the list.

"Yup," you conclude.

"Wanna talk about it?"

"It's honestly nothing, just scheduling issues."

"With your boyfriend?" He wiggles his eyebrows.

"He's not my boyfriend. We just sleep together," you point out.

"I'm sure you can find someone else, you're an avenger now. Bet they're lining up to get a chance with you," Bucky shrugs.

You scrunch your nose. "I'm tired of being disappointed. I'd rather wait and have my needs met, even if it's frustrating."

"That long huh?"

"Between all the missions and not being free at the same time, it's been months."

"Yeah, same." Bucky murmurs and stops on a movie. "What about this one?"

"Yeah, sure."

You settle down against the numerous pillows you have been bringing to Bucky's room since you started having these movie nights a couple of months ago. His TV is bigger and his couch is much softer than yours. Plus the two of you fit comfortably on this one, with enough room for both to stretch out.

"So why won't just a regular guy do it for you?" Bucky asks and takes a fist of popcorn, stuffing it in his mouth.

Shrugging you say "I need someone I can trust, with my body and my mind. Takes a lot of talking in the beginning, but now it's almost as good as therapy for getting out of my head."

"Don't like thinking?"

"Not during sex. I just need someone else to make decisions for me, use me however they like. Not ask me what I want, just flip me over, make me come until I can't see straight, and fuck me until they're satisfied. If I pick someone up at a bar, all they do is slap my ass and finish a minute later."

Both of you are silent and watch the movie before you ask.

"What about you?"

"Look at me," he chuckles. "The metal arm scares the majority and the ones that are left usually can't handle what I want."

"And what do you want?"

"Control, over something, someone. Watching as they go dumber and dumber the more orgasms I can force from them. Until they can't speak. Just owning their warm body for a moment, taking as long as I need because they don't want to be anywhere else than on my cock," Bucky laughs.

The laugh gets stuck in your throat because there is no denying Bucky's words have an impact on you. Hopefully, he doesn't notice and you refuse to move and rub your thighs together. Then you both continue to watch the movie, but it's hard to concentrate. All you imagine is Bucky using your body and finally getting the release that you've been longing for. How much would it fuck up the team dynamic if you started sleeping together? You force yourself to watch the movie and not entertain those thoughts anymore.

Two hours later, after the table has been cleaned off, you're heading for the door, mind already back in your own room and the toys you'll undoubtedly need to take care of yourself to be able to sleep. Then you feel a hand on your wrist, and in a flash, you’re pinned with your back against the door, Bucky's hand securely holding both your arms above your head. You're not sure if the breath that leaves your lungs is because the force pushes it out of you or because you're instantly so turned on. Either way, there is no denying the impact his closeness has.

"So, are you going to tell me what you've been thinking about the whole movie?" There is a knowing smirk on his lips.

"What? Nothing? I was watching it."

"Don't play dumb with me, you were far off somewhere else for most of the time."

You swallow hard, opening and closing your mouth a few times. It's embarrassing that you've been on his couch, thinking lewd thoughts about him when you're not even that close—something between coworkers and friends.

"Was it because of what I said," he leans forward to whisper into your ear. The warmth of his body pressing against yours even though he's not touching you. "Did your tiny little brain think of all the ways I could fuck you until you're a mess?"

A whine crawls up your throat unbidden and you turn your head to the side, shame making your ears warm.

"All you have to do is ask," he prompts. "Or tell me to let you go and we can pretend this never happened."

The last thing is out of the question. You just need to work up enough courage to tell him what you need. Everything about him pierces your senses, making you high of his smell, touch, and sound.

In the end, all you can come up with is, "Bucky please." And bucking your hips up in the hope of finding some friction for your throbbing core.

But he just makes an unimpressed sound.

"No, you have to do better than that." Then he pauses and uses his free hand to turn your head until you're looking into his blue eyes.

"We'll go over everything properly before next time," his voice is calm and to the point. Making it clear he expects you to listen. "But right now I think we need each other. We'll use traffic lights or you'll tell me if it's too rough or too much. Understand?"

"Yes Bucky," you answer.

He releases your face and your arms, placing his hands on either side of your head instead. With a smile that makes you wetter than you already are, he says, "Good girl. Now do a better job at begging."

He is effectively displaying his whole body for you and in seconds you have your palms on his chest, caressing carefully up and down, feeling his corded muscles beneath the fabric of his t-shirt.

"Bucky please," you beg in a delicate voice. "I need you to touch me. I want to feel you everywhere. Please help me come, it hurts so bad."

His pupils dilate, almost eclipsing the blue in his eyes. Then he presses his knee up between your legs, lifting you off the ground enough that only the tip of your toes reaches the floor.

"Here, use my leg and hump it. We'll see what you deserve after that."

Oh, he's got a mean streak, you realize, and you're all for it. Wiggling on his thigh to get a better position you grab a hold of his shoulders to steady yourself and try to move. It's difficult and not nearly enough to get you where you wish but you're absolutely enjoying the way he's playing with you and speaking to you.

"Look at the innocent little angel using my leg. What else can I make you do to get off huh?"

With a whine you work faster, chasing something barely there.

"Something you'll learn very quickly, little angel, is that I don't share, but I do like showing off my property. Let everyone see but not let anyone touch."

"Yes!" you moan. "I'll be anything you need, just help me, please Bucky!"

"I'll hold you to that," he promises. Suddenly his knee is gone but instead, his body is pressed hard against yours and his lips descend. The kiss is filthy and needy, your hands grab onto his head, trying to get more of him even though he's already as close as he can come. You suck on his tongue and lips and he does the same to you, before mouthing his way over your jaw and down your neck, nipping and sucking. His beard pricks you but it's a mild discomfort to the one between your legs.

A string of needy noises tumble out of your mouth and you're about to start begging again but right then he lifts you and turns around, heading over to his large bed. As your body touches the sheets his hands start pulling at your clothes and you do the same to him. Moments later both of your are naked on the bed, making out like horny teenagers, rutting mindlessly against each other. His fingers find your hard clit, gently circling it a few times before dipping into the wetness at your opening. You mewl into his mouth in delight, thinking he's going to start filling you with his fingers, but instead, he spreads the slick back up to your clit and starts flicking it slowly.

Throwing your head back you moan his name loudly, no thoughts if you can be heard through the walls, everything is focused on the way he's touching you. His mouth finds your nipple and you get impossibly hotter and wetter. The months-long dry spell quickly catches up to you. Bucky fingers are expertly playing with you, never too hard or too light, hurling you towards the climax.

"Can I cum Bucky? Please can I cum?!"

His laugh tickles your skin, his fingers slow and he looks up at you.

"Yes, you can this time, just because you asked so nicely."

His fingers gather more of your wetness before picking up speed again. The band in your stomach quickly snaps and you scream out your release, blabbering "Thank you-thank you-thank you!"

Without getting a second to breathe you're flipped onto your stomach, then his hands lift your hips and you fold your knees in under you.

"Grab me a condom in the drawer angel," he directs and with unsteady hands and a complaining whine you open the drawer and rummage around until you find a square package.

"Don't whine when I'm trying to do the right thing," he growls and smacks your ass. "I know a little slut like you wants to be pumped full of cum until you're dripping." He leans down over you until his mouth is next to your ear, his raw dick rubbing against your sensitive cunt. Plucking the condom from your fingers he whispers, "You'll have to earn my cum, angel."

A jolt of pleasure-filled electricity shoots through you, just imagining yourself on your knees in front of him, doing anything he asks.

"I'll do anything, master," the name slips out by pure habit. "I'll be good, let you use me in any way you like, any hole. Anything to earn your cum, please, master."

A groan can be heard from behind together with the sound of the foil being torn open. Impatiently you wiggle your ass, arching your back even more, presenting yourself. In reward you get several more slaps, making you cry out as the pain shoots straight to your cunt.

"Oh, angel, keep talking sweet like that and you'll earn yourself another orgasm."

His dick notches at your opening and you still obediently. Both of you moan in unison as he presses inside. He's clearly on the bigger side but there is hardly any resistance since you're dripping with slick. In moments you're fuller than you've been in months, clawing at the sheets in front of you.

"Good girl, taking me so fucking well," his hands spread your cheeks. "I wish you could see how your greedy little pussy is swallowing me."

"Wa-want it, master, want it so much, feels so good!"

A wail leaves you as he starts pistoning his hips into you. If it weren't for the fact that he also pulls your hips back towards him every time, you'd end up with your head in the wall.

"Give me your hands," he instructs and you put them behind your back quickly, folding them and gripping your underarms. His vibranium hand closes around both your wrists while the other grabs your hair, pulling your head back.

You love his harsh grip on you, how he does what he wants with your body while he fucks you. All you can do is moan and whine and cry as he thrusts without any sign of slowing down any time soon. Usually around this time your FWB is about to come, and even though you're always satisfied in the end, sometimes you wish for more. The serum in his veins must give him superhuman stamina when it comes to everything.

Without warning he releases your hair and pulls hard on your arms, raising your body from the bed, his free hand coming round to grab your neck.

"Color?" He grunts, never missing a beat with his hips.

"Green! Bucky it's fucking green. Please! More!"

"You dirty little slut! Can't get enough of my cock huh?"

"No, master, want it always!" You cry.

"That's fucking right, god you feel so good. Next time I'm going to fuck you raw and watch the cum pour out of your pussy. How about right before Tony's big party? Put you in a short little dress with no panties so everyone can see my cum running down your legs."

The image of yourself, flustered and embarrassed while Bucky parades you around makes you keen, pushing back against him. You are nothing but his toy, he can do whatever he wants and you would gladly say 'Yes, master.'

The incessant need to come makes your legs weak, trembling from being held up and fucked within an inch of your life.

"Master, can I come? Your dick feels so good, can I please come on it?"

Releasing your wrists, his vibranium arm comes around your waist, pulling you flush with his chest before traveling down to your aching clit.

"This what you need, angel?"

The unrelenting metal against the softest part of your flesh pulls more desperate sounds from you as you try to rock against it, the pleasure eating you up from the inside, erasing every trace of cognitive thought. When you don’t answer he chuckles next to your ear, "I think my cock has made you dumb, angel. No thoughts left in that tiny little head of yours."

Your hands land on his arm, needing something to hold onto. He hasn’t permitted you yet, the orgasm is shimmering right underneath your skin, threatening to break through any second. The only thing you know is that you don’t want to disappoint him.

"My angel is doing so good, go ahead and come for me, make sure you scream my name when you do. Let everyone hear that this cunt belongs to me."

Instead of continuing with his fingers, his whole palm lands on your clit, a few slaps that don’t hurt in the slightest, only enhancing your pleasure, before the heel of his hand presses against your clit.

"Come on, show me how you look when you let go. Be a good little angel for me, come on my cock."

In a blinding light of pleasure, you scream his name, just like he wants, bending your head until it rests against his shoulder, shuddering and shaking from the release.

"Looking beautiful my little angel, so fucking pretty, strangling my cock." He hugs you tightly towards him for a second before pushing you forward. Your arms only cushion the fall lightly, there is no strength left in your body. Looking over your shoulder you see his eyes, blazing with lust, his mouth slightly open. Then he pulls out and you watch him tear the condom off, jerking himself, and with a loud groan of your name he finishes on your ass and back. As the spurts of cum hit your skin you close your eyes and sigh in contentment. Owned. Used. Satisfied for the first time in months.

With a giggle you fall to the side, uncaring if you're messing up his sheets. He lands on his back in front of you a moment later, chest still heaving.

"That was…" he begins, turning his head towards you with a small smile. Before continuing he rolls over on his side, reaching and pulling you in towards his naked chest, tilting your head up, and placing a small chaste kiss on your lips.

"Amazing? Wonderful? Mind-blowing?" you suggest with a smile to finish his sentence.

"All of the above angel."

For a couple of minutes, you lie there, just content with what just happened, before Bucky says,

"Come on, we need to clean you up."

He stands from the bed and picks you up with no effort, carrying you to the small bathroom and turning on the shower. Carefully he places you down on the tile and the warm spray is a harsh contrast to the cold sweat that has dried on your skin.

"How do you feel?"

Your only response is a happy humming noise that makes him smile, before he reaches for a bottle of shower gel. He makes you turn around, leaning your arms against the wall as he begins to clean you. His touch is firm as he washes your back and ass, giving you a light massage before he moves on to the rest of your body. Then you help him, even if what you do is mostly smear suds over his pecs. When he's done the both of you stand under the warm spray.

"Any immediate soreness?" He asks.

"No," you sigh happily. "Might feel something tomorrow, but we'll see then."

He finds you a clean towel afterward and dries you off, before handing you a t-shirt and a pair of his boxers. Without questioning you put them on.

Fortunately, the sheets have minimal staining and both of you are too exhausted to care about changing them. Suddenly you realize you've just fucked Bucky and now you're staying in his bed for the night, with your head resting on his chest.

"What is this Bucky?" you mumble, even as sleep is dragging you down.

"Whatever you want it to be, angel, we'll work out the details in the morning," he assures you.

And if the other people at the compound heard you the night before, or notice that you're wearing one of Bucky's t-shirts to breakfast the next day, nobody says a word.

[0-n-1-x]

Nishinoya Yuu x Cheerleader!reader link to my masterlist <33

You and Nishinoya probably met during a school event, maybe a basketball match where you were cheering on your team. He was obviously drawn to your energy and enthusiasm, which matched his own. Noya is your biggest fan. He’s always front and center during your performances, cheering louder than anyone else. He even learns some of the cheers so he can do them with you. You cannot tell me that when he calls you to keep him company at the gym, you’ll practice your routines while Noya practices his skills and receives. You both are really competitive (being athletes), trying to outdo each other in stamina and precision. It’s a fun way to bond, and you both end up laughing, even if one of you wipes out.

If you do gymnastic type cheer, he definitely tries to copy some of your moves and flips (he folds the second he sees one of your tumble routines). Think you have the best routines in the world and will fight any judge that thinks otherwise, no matter how many times you tell him that you actually did mess up. Noya would totally want to help with your stunts, insisting he could be a base. While he might not be tall, his strength and determination make up for it, and you trust him completely

if you do stomp and shake cheer or call-and-response type cheer, he will dedicate hours to learn all of your lyrics and the moves that go with them, he also definitely does the trendy ones with you when they go viral on TikTok. And to be completely honest he got scared of your cheer voice in the beginning, but he grew to really like your ability to switch up on- and off the court, even if it surprises him (he's still a little scared to come up to you after you win a game).

you guy's sports use similar muscle group so expect a LOT of peer-conditioning dates (followed up by a meal for 10)

if any tries to tell you that 'you aren't a real athlete' or 'cheer isn't a sport' best believe that Noya is right next to you defending. Even if you tell him it's not worth it, and it's also a personal headcanon of mine that he is insanely good at roasts so this person's whole bloodline is cooked.

Noya loves surprising you with little things, like bringing you more water during practice or leaving encouraging notes with doodles in your cheer bag. He’s always thinking of ways to make you smile, just as you do for him. If your seasons don't match up, he is coming to the games that you cheer for, who cares if he doesn't understand basketball? his girl is out there. Plus, he begs you to make cheer just for him. It might start as a joke, but you’d end up putting real effort into it, and he’d beam with pride every time you perform it during a game. Even teaching some of your teammates for a surprise in your student section

If your seasons do match, that's the time when you see eachother the least, at first there was tension on you guys, but after a year or so you both get used to it and understand that you're both student-athletes with buys schedules.

Before big events, you might sneak into the boys’ locker room after most of them leave to give him a quick pep talk, because we all know he struggles with mental health. It becomes a tradition, with some of the team playfully teasing him but none of them know what you're saying and how encouraging it is <33

to the anon that requested this thank you so much!! (I unfortunately couldn't find your ask so I'm so sorry </3) this is definitely a favorite trope of mine because I have experience in sports and cheerleading, so I probably over yapped ngl

[stusbunker]

Spotless: Cambiare

Chapter Thirty Five

Featuring: Dean Winchester/Reader

Other characters: Both bands and crew, Madison, Alice and Max Miller, Cas' brother Jimmy mentioned, Alastair

Word Count: 3241

Warnings, etc: Mutual pining, still unbeta'd, drinking and mild drug use, smoking cigarettes , Kevin is still a shit and we love him for it, fundraiser fluff, first show in Vegas then somebody shows up to ruin Dean's winning streak. SAFE House is a real organization, but all information about them in this fic is fictional, including locations, organizers and fundraiser protocols.

Series Masterlist

The desert sun shined down, even in mid-March, you were grateful for sunglasses as you walked across the parking lot of the furniture store that was hosting the fundraiser. Part of the core principles of SAFE House and organizations like it was its discretion, so nothing that night was taking place near the actual houses where families escaping domestic violence resided. The main office was tucked into a back corner of a row of single story businesses and also a good distance away.

Behind you was the band in ball caps and sunglasses, Bobby and Annie, while Benny, Cesar, Jesse and Chief followed behind. Charlie and the rest of the crew were setting up at the venue for the following nights’ performances. Victor and SPS had other plans for the night before their Vegas debut, but that was understandable. Plus, they sent their support both in person and via social media.

Alice Miller, the Director of Outreach, met you at the registration booth and gave you a bundle of volunteer badges and tickets for the food stands as well as a map of the grounds. 

“We are so grateful for you being here and helping spread the word. We’ve barely been able to get away from the phones since you mentioned the event on the radio this morning. We’re expecting a record breaking year for the carnival.”

Careful to not seem too unsurprised, you downplayed what you expected to be a very busy night. “It’s the least we could do. Now— where did you want the band?”

“Max?” Alice called a younger man over. “Max is my stepson, and he’s in charge of volunteer assignments. While I’ll be around, Max will be able to answer any questions better than I would.”

The guy seemed a little awkward, but he also seemed to at least recognize who he was talking to. “Alright, guys, glad to have you. I have the band assigned two two hour long stints at the Dunk Tank, the Photo Booth, and the Face Painting stand. Your call on if you stick to one station or switch it up. I’ll leave the list with your publicist. Breaks are expected, but please let somebody know when you need one so we can make the swap as seamless as possible. Your team members are welcome to participate, or just stand guard, but please remember we are as low contact as possible with crowd control.”

You had clocked a good chunk of guys you suspected to be plain clothed police officers donning security vests at the next table. You kept your thoughts to yourself on that matter, as long as the families and participants were safe, you were happy.

“Thanks, Max. I gave them the spiel on the ride over. Can we get some group shots with you and the other employees before we get into our stations?”

“Of course, give me ten minutes and we can get everyone together. I’ll give you a walkie, too, just in case. Though we don’t have enough for everyone.”

“Understood.”

You gave him a firm nod and clipped the communicator to your back pocket. He ducked out of the small tent, while you stepped back towards the group you came with, so the line of other volunteers behind you could get signed in. You glanced down the clipboard with the empty blocks of scheduled time at each of the stations. 

Kevin and Dean were on you in an instant.

“Please put me anywhere but the face painting. I can’t draw for shit,” Kevin begged.

“Sam either, don’t do it, Trouble. It will be a mess,” Dean warned.

“Okay, well, Dunk Tank is going to have to be an all or last stint because nobody is going to be able to pose for pictures or do face-painting when they’re soaked to the bone,” you reasoned out loud.

You turned and spoke louder. “Alright, Pam and Annie, let’s have you do the face painting. If nothing else you can just do exaggerated makeup looks.”

“Sounds good to me,” Annie said. While Pam sort of cocked her head and considered if this was the best course of action.

“Lee and Sam are getting the Photobooth first, if you get bored or overwhelmed we’ll swap you guys for the Dunk Tank. But what we really need are hecklers, and I think these two assholes would be best for the job.” You gestured to Dean and Kevin, the two devils over your shoulders.

“You know there are easier ways to see me with my shirt off,” Dean murmured, but didn’t argue with his assignment.

You turned and looked up at him, your reflection shining back at you in his sunglasses, which only made you more defensive. “If I wanted to sell skin, I’d send Sam over there first. But just for that, you’re booked all night. Happy chafing, Dean-o.”

Kevin cackled. “She just pwned you so bad!”

“Shut up, Kevin,” you and Dean said at the same time.

You tried to see if Dean had just been teasing, but your annoyance and curiosity were short lived when Bobby walked up and took the envelope of lanyards out of your grip, and started handing them out.

Somewhere beyond the entrance and registration booths a megaphone sounded, gathering everyone together for the pictures you requested and a quick information session.

The carnival was scheduled from four to nine, hitting the afterschool and afterwork crowds, but still reasonable for a weekday. Even in Vegas, locals had normal schedules most of the time. You took turns with the SAFE House’s media director taking pictures and gesturing people into position. Carefully you had them frame the band, Annie, Alice and the rest of the board in varying shots of size and distance. You should have brought a real camera, but your phone would have to make due for this event. There were over fifty people volunteering in addition to the security team. And every one of them was smiling at you, it was infectious.

It was going to be a good night.

You patrolled the grounds, gathering pictures of the band at their different booths in various poses and levels of embarrassment. Dean was the first one in the water and once he sunk, the crowd went nuts. His line snaked around the Fun House and back towards the Port-o-Potties. 

Kevin had more success heckling Dean than those throwing at his target, but he, too, was drenched before long. It only added to the care-free atmosphere. Even though you knew Dean would have paid a pretty penny to be the one tossing balls in Kevin’s direction himself.

Sam and Lee started off pretty stiff with the Photo Booth, but once a group of preschoolers busted out the feather boas and other accessories, they caved like a house of cards. Neither man could deny kids, especially ones that might have been hurt at some point in their young lives, so they turned up the charm and silliness and had everyone in stitches before they took their dinner break.

Pamela and Annie had the quietest station. It was rather amusing, and a little surreal, that round after round of kids waited in line, picked out their designs, and sat still for the whole process before their parents, guardians, or grandparents recognized Annie Hawkins as the artist behind the butterflies or dragons now at their sides.

Pamela’s entire being screamed rockstar or badass. But as the drummer of the band, she was the least known by name, which never seemed to bother her. No, her confidence was unique in that it was a genuine, god-given, lack of shame. Something you had envied for a long time. So when only a handful of people asked for her picture along with her creations, she didn’t bat an eye. She just winked at the kids as they went about their nights and waved.

By nightfall, the crowd had reached capacity. The sounds of the various rides and games were constant and the bright lights kept the area surveyable. However, the temperature started to drop and the Dunk Tanks themselves weren’t well lit, which equated to Kevin and Dean’s station beginning to lose some of its luster. 

“Okay! Let’s see what you got! Come on folks— this is for a great cause!” Kevin spouted.

“Freezing my nuts off of here! Hey big guy, think you could dunk me?”

You stage whispered, “this is a family event— keep your flirting to your own time!”

“Har-har!” Dean mock laughed.

You took another picture, but your flash really wasn’t the best with the Fun House lights offsetting it. Dean was dunked again and you asked Max over the walkie if you could end the line. It was a little after eight at night and between the cooler night air and the remaining people waiting, they deserved to see the finish line. 

After a few seconds, you got permission to send Benny and Jesse to curtail new customers, “yeah, okay. We’ll start closing up those stations first, ease out of the night.”

You texted Bobby to start warming up the bus before making your way through the crowd to let the rest of the team know to wrap it up. Sam and Lee actually were already closed up, their tent had been packed up and they just sat sipping on flat beer from the one kiosk with a liquor license. Annie and Pamela had turned into more of a selfie and autograph booth then a face painting stand, but no one seemed to mind. 

“We’ve got the all clear, meet at the bus in ten,” you let them know. Casually, you headed back to the Dunk Tanks to ensure the soggy bottom boys weren’t mobbed once they were back on solid ground.

Cesar, brilliant man that he was, showed up with a pair of fleece blankets from the bus just as the final set of balls were handed to Benny and Jesse. You grinned at him in gratitude, but had to film the final dunks for prosperity’s sake. 

“Come on Benny! Let ‘im have it!” you bellowed as the head roadie wound up.

Jesse immediately sent Kevin into the depths, forfeiting the remaining two throws, and letting his husband help the smaller man off the platform and into a blanket.

Benny missed the first two balls, which Dean was not going to let him live it down. “Oh, he’s on the ropes! Look he’s not gonna make it, I should just climb down. That blanket is a-calling to me!”

“Just shut your trap, will ya?” Benny muttered.

“Make me, big boy!”

“Does he always flirt when he’s nervous?” you asked, knowing full well it was being recorded.

“Nah, darlin’. He’s showboating. He only flirts like this to make up for something.”

“Oh yeah? What am I making up for Benny? Cuz your aim is the only thing lacking here!”

With movie magic precision, Benny sank Dean on his last throw. The remaining crowd erupted and you scanned the area before sneaking closer to get Dean’s grumpy face as he crawled out of the tank and down the ladder.

“About time!” He called over his shoulder before Cesar could wrap him up too. Crouched over and shivering, Dean grinned for the camera before you hit the stop button on the video. Everyone laughed and joked while Dean and Kevin tried to dry off. After gathering their hats, phones, wallets, and socks and shoes, everyone left for the parking lot and the bus back to the Strip and the hotel.

You stopped at the entrance, dropped off the walkie talkie and your lanyards with Max’s crew. You made your way across the parking lot to the corner that Bobby had claimed for the bus, turning on your notifications for the first time all night. It was going to be a long night of scrolling and posting, but it was a good kind of busy to be.

The bass pulsed through the amps and across the floor, like an omniscient earthquake. You felt the heat from the stage effects across your skin. Pamela was taking the end of A Reaper’s Offering and taking over for her solo. The lights dimmed along the edge of the stage and everything focused on her. You felt the buzz of an incoming message on your hip from the walkie, but you couldn’t hear a single word.

“There she goes!” Dean rumbled somewhere amongst the shadows. The crowd responded then hushed itself just as quickly, awe-inspired.

Charlie has so much more at her disposal in this set up and she used everything she could to empathize the epicness of Pamela’s prowess, each drum was focused by its own color light. Pamela kept Charlie on her toes as she hopped from one to another, sometimes hitting three or four at a time. It was mesmerizing.

Your voice was hoarse already and still you screamed as she ramped it up to the big finale. Even in the wing off stage, you couldn’t hear yourself over the racing beat.

Lee whistled with two fingers in his mouth, shrill and celebratory. And still Pamela rocked on.

Sam slid down his E string, pulsing beneath her. You noticed how the others drifted back into position, four more measures and Kevin joined in. As the notes blended together Pamela pulled back, like a band of horses behind well-worn reins. 

“Lead the way, Pammy!” Dean broke the spell and Pamela thumped into a familiar opening.

They weren’t stopping and slowing down for Vegas. ‘Abandon All Hope’ was left out of the first night’s setlist and the suggestive ‘Twigs and Twine’ swapped in instead. If you had to bet, ‘Brother’s Keeper’ wasn’t going to be featured either. And you were right, instead they played ‘Give Me My Ax’ for Lee to completely annihilate.

Charlie dropped the lights on them as Dean finished ‘Not Mine’ and the crowd did not stop for a full five minutes. You felt like you were tethered to a comet, soaring and burning alongside those brighter than you could ever hope to be.

The encores flew by and SPS joined them on stage, bowing and waving and blowing kisses to the insatiable masses. You knew the venue had photographers in the pit and along the box seats, but you couldn’t wait to get your hands on some fan shots. This was a show banners and websites were made of, raw and glistening.

Everyone descended the stage and flooded the wing you were occupying. The moment Dean’s eyes caught yours, his entire face changed and you both went to each other. Unthinking, two magnets across the mess of stagehands and band members just as he bent down to grab you into a hug, you hesitated, feeling unseen eyes in the upper levels.

You grabbed his elbow and drew him in further into the belly of backstage.

“What’s up?” Dean’s face was worried now.

“Nothing, just didn’t want somebody to see us.”

Dean’s brow pinched and he sighed, but stayed at your side. “How was it? Have fun?!”

You rolled your eyes. “I think I’m as sweaty as you are!”

“Well, I’m gonna hit the dressing room. If you need a shirt, I’ve got extra. Because there’s no way we’re stopping soon. Those high rollers ain’t seen nothing like the Winchesters in a hot minute.”

“Fine! But I’m capping you at 50k for the night, young man. Somebody has got to rein you in, especially since Jimmy isn’t on retainer anymore.”

“Ugh! Well, we’ll see about that.” Dean winked and threw his arm over your shoulder and walked you both to the pandemonium that was the dressing room.

You were very careful while out with the band to stay on the vertical side of inebriation. It was equal parts fear of embarrassing yourself and fear of losing control of one or more of the band. After Dean and Cas’ explosion in Chicago last spring, you rarely mixed substances, especially while somewhere as heavily monitored as Vegas.

A little No Doz and a side of vodka and tonic would carry you most of the night. If nothing got too crazy. Eventually, you’d snag a cigarette, but casino-hopping would have to wait. Dean was on a roll, literally.

Dice in theory was an easy game. The tables with all the Pass and Don’t Pass bet bullshit made Craps hard for you to follow, especially when you were too busy keeping an eye on everyone. Madison and Sam were getting handsy at a Blackjack Table. Pam had found her machine for the night and was racking up a nice total with just penny slots. While taking shots of whiskey in stunning regularity.

Lee and Dean were both rolling dice, but the tables faced the opposite direction and you were almost certain one or both of them were trying to hustle somebody. The house always won, but sometimes people got cocky and they thought these cornfed boys from Nebraska were easy prey. It was fun to watch.

If nerve wracking.

Dean’s eyes danced over his dice, everyone gathered held their breath as the dealer called out the victory. Dean jumped up, punched the air, and crowed with abandon. He was untouchable in his brilliance. It made something inside you shiver. Sometimes you forgot he was real.

“Alright, time to head out!” Dean decided, gathering his chips and heading to the teller line to cash out. You nodded to the rest of the band, with an annoyed eye roll from Pamela, but everyone followed suit. Benny and the Chief had drawn straws for that night’s detail, which meant Jesse and Cesar would have your backs the following night. It still felt weird to be Tiny and Bela-less, but it was also one less thing for you to keep track of.

The crowds outside of Cesar’s Palace were full of tourists as you stepped back out onto the strip. A rush of waiting photographers gravitated to your group the second Sam’s head cleared the exit. Fucking Sasquatch was too easy to spot.

“Guys! Fantastic show tonight!”

“Dean! Dean! Where’s Bela? What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, huh?”

“Pamela! Lee! Are you guys back together? Will we see another Vegas wedding from you two?”

“Sam! Who’s the lucky lady?”

Everyone ignored them the best you could, keeping your heads down and letting Benny hold them off.

“There he is! The coward has returned!” A nasally voice made its way through the chaos and Dean stopped in his tracks. You dropped back and tried to drag him forward, while ignoring the jeers from the other paps. 

“That’s a good girl, follow your mommy. Don’t want to get left behind,” the voice said senselessly.

“Dean?” you said, nerves dialed up to eleven.

Dean shook his head and scanned the crowd until he spotted a cameraless, beady-eyed face. “Benny! Keep that fucker away from us,” Dean yelled as he about-faced and took the group in a different direction. Benny fell back and stepped up to the taller creep, clearly making a point of starting a conversation as the other paps scrambled to keep up with you.

Dean dragged you and Pam by the wrists, keeping you at his sides until he decided you were in the clear outside the next stop. You had no idea who that guy was. After twenty minutes, Benny finally caught up with you guys and something in his eyes told you it wasn’t over.

Tagging:

@deans-spinster-witch

@mrswhozeewhatsis

@cosicas-cuquis

@fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like

@suckitands33

@ladysparkles78

@deans-baby-momma

@stoneyggirl2

@sassy-pelican

@leigh70

@globetrotter28

@winharry

@lastactiontricia

@rockhoochie

@brightlilith

@coldhearted93

@djs8891

@beautiful-places-blog

@n-o-p-e-never

@spxideyver

Chapter 36: Acciaccato

[ladykailitha]

Can Anybody See Me? Part 2

Holy shit, guys. I have never had such a response to a story before. Thank you guys so much.

Tag list of 50 has now been filled. Any other requests for tagging will be denied. I’m sorry.

Edit: Also if you saw the title as something else? No, no you didn’t. And any reblogs you see with anyone instead of anybody are a figment of your imagination. (*thuds head on laptop* I have the title right on here...in my file *wails*)

Part 1

*

The next morning Eddie got up for school excited for the first time. He had a mystery to solve and his name was Steven Harrington. Probably the third or whatever shit rich people got to with naming their kids. He rummaged through his closet looking for his favorite band tee. But he stopped when he found an old shoe box down at the bottom.

Eddie frowned and pulled it out. It was a bunch of pictures of Eddie when he first came to live with his uncle, Wayne. He looked at the shaved head and bruised face.

His dad had taken one look at Eddie that morning and decided his hair was too long. He had grabbed Eddie by the hair and dragged him into the bathroom and shaved his head. The bruises to the face were from Eddie trying to escape.

Eddie had suffered a concussion and it was then the state had taken notice. They had packed up his stuff while he was in the hospital in a big black garbage bag and told him he would be going home to his Uncle Wayne. In Indiana. So far from the life he knew. But it meant being safe from his dad and that was a plus in Eddie’s book.

It’s how he knew what Steve was going through. Maybe not exactly the same. But he knew concussions and knew they were a bad business.

He put the pictures back in the box and tucked it under his bed. Maybe he didn’t need to know why Steve was hurting. Maybe it was enough to understand. He pulled on his second favorite band tee and his jacket. He grabbed his bag and hurried out the door.

*

Eddie bit his lip. He didn’t have any classes with Steve today and wasn’t able to check up on him. He was tempted to break into the office and pull Steve’s schedule. But that would get him detention and he was still trying to keep his promise to his uncle.

How was he going to do this?

And then the answer literally dropped in his lap. A book was thrown at him by someone. He picked it up and looked at the cover. It was some old homework journal was about to throw it away when a piece of paper fluttered to the ground.

Frowning he picked it up. By some miracle it was Steve’s schedule. He looked up to see if he could see who threw it at him. But it could have been anyone. A lot of people were avoiding his eye, but that could be for any number of reasons. They bought from him and now they can’t look him in the eye because he knows. They want to buy weed and don’t know how to broach it. They think he’s a freak. They have a crush on him. You know, the possibilities were endless.

But at least he knew things he didn’t before. Like holy hell, the kid did a lot of sports. He looked at baseball and swimming and basketball with his mind whirling around in his head. How did he keep all the rules straight?

Math third period Eddie knew. History was Steve’s first period. Which was probably how his messed up brain managed to spew that information at Eddie yesterday. Baseball was seventh. Basketball his eighth. Swimming was second. English fourth. Art was sixth. Art, huh? That was intriguing. Probably thought it was an easy elective. And chemistry was fifth. So it looked something like this.

Odd 1-History 3- Math 5- Chemistry lunch 7- Baseball

Even 2-Swimming 4-English 6-Art lunch 8-Basketball

Huh. Eddie never noticed, but Steve was always in his lunch period. That was certainly interesting. He wondered what Mrs Hall, the guidance counselor would do about all his sports now that he couldn’t play anymore. He supposed swimming was still fine, nothing to hit you in that. But baseball and basketball were definitely out.

Eddie chewed on his lip. The sports weren’t going to get Eddie closer to finding out what happened to Steve. They would close ranks so fast. At least Steve and him had lunch together so that would at least make it easier befriend the guy.

Art, though. He tapped his lip thoughtfully. He had art in his fifth period. He could doing some snooping there. After all art is where true expression lies. And if there was anything going on it would show in his art.

The start of a plan was forming in the back of his mind. Yeah. This could work.

*

At lunch, Eddie slid in next to Steve as soon as he sat down.

“What’s on the menu today, Harrington?” he asked grinning.

Steve looked up at him in shock again. “Um...applesauce and plain toast, with a can of ginger ale.”

Eddie winced. “Still feeling the nausea?”

Steve nodded. “I’m starting to wonder if it’s ever going away.”

“It’ll stick around for about a week,” Eddie said softly.

Steve frowned. “How would you know that?”

“How don’t you know that?” Eddie fired back. “This is your second concussion.”

“Didn’t go to the doctor either time,” Steve mumbled.

“You want to run that past me again, Harrington?” Eddie asked.

“Doctors mean having to call my parents,” Steve explained, “calling my parents means that they’ll have to come back from their trip, coming back from their trip means I get into trouble, getting into trouble is not good for a concussion, so I don’t.”

“Why would you get into trouble for having a concussion?” Eddie asked, furrowing his brow.

Steve started counting it out on his fingers. “Getting into a fight. Hanging out with black people and by extension, siding with said black person. Having to drop out of sports. Watching my grades plummet. Not speaking to Tommy and Carol. I can keep going if you’d like...”

Eddie shook his head. “Holy shit, dude. I didn’t think I’d see a shittier dad then my own, but yours and your mom take the cake.”

Steve looked down at his applesauce mournfully. “It’s not that bad. At least my dad doesn’t hit me like Tommy’s dad does.”

Eddie’s eyebrows went up. “Are all rich dads douchebags?”

Steve shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“Look, I’ve got to eat my own lunch,” Eddie said slapping the table and standing up, “but if you need anything come find me.”

Steve nodded, but Eddie didn’t think he would take him up on it.

Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13  Part 14  Part 15  Part 16  Part 17 Part 18  Part 19  Part 20 Part 21

Tag List: @shrimply-a-menace @strangersteddierthings @throwbackthrowaway @novelnovella @cursedfoxteeth @babyblender @lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaring @swimmingbirdrunningrock @steve-the-hairrington @winterbuckwild @spectrum-spectre @matchingbatbites

[imagining-in-the-margins]

Piece of Paper (S.R.)

Summary: Spencer and Reader discuss Autism evaluations.

Request: reader tells spencer "i think im autistic" and he’s like "wait you've never been evaluated/diagnosed??" and he helps her advocate for an evaluation or some other kind of support? A/N: I’m sorry if this isn’t exactly what you wanted, Anon, but this is the experience I would like to share as a person who was diagnosed as a toddler 🫶 Couple: Spencer Reid/GN!Reader Category: Comfort/Fluff Content Warning: Autism assessment/Anti-Autistic mentions, implied abuse/gaslighting, minor self-hatred, internalized ableism Word Count: 1k

MASTERLIST

The bullpen was as quiet as it ever was. The bustling crowds had passed through and returned to the comfort of their home. All that remained were those with deadlines, no date life, or neurodivergent tendencies.

You peeked across the desk to notice how Spencer’s hyper-focus had finally faded, leaving him now spinning in his chair while he stared at the ceiling.

“Hey, Spencer?” you called, “Can I ask you a kind of personal question?”

His chair came to a halt.

“Sure, but I’m not sure if I’ll have a satisfying answer,” he chuckled.

You floundered for a moment, struggling to come up with an appropriate way to ask your question. Yet, when you did finally speak, you were anything but eloquent.

“What was it like when you were diagnosed with Autism?”

“Oh!” he said excitedly, “I’ve actually never been assessed.”

Immediately, your face began to burn, and your stomach churned with the realization you’d just made a number of possibly rude assumptions.

“Oh, my gosh, I’m so sorry—“

“I’m not offended,” he reassured you with a smile, “I agree with your assessment.”

You smiled at the wordplay, but the intensity of his gaze drove your eyes back to the mess of paperwork on your desk.

“Can I ask why?” you asked.

Spencer didn’t seem to mind at all that you stared at the desk instead of him. He offered his explanation with his normal enthusiasm.

“My mom wasn’t exactly the biggest fan of psychiatrists.”

Understandable. Neither were you.

“Plus,” he trailed off. You turned to find him staring at the ceiling again. He rocked the chair back and forth as he said somewhat solemnly, “the world isn’t particularly fond of Autistic people.”

The words felt like a blow to your chest. Like your heart had turned to stone or something unbearably cold.

“Ah,” you sigh. You brought a hand to your face to try to hide the disappointment.

Spencer, still looking above you both, didn’t even notice the shift in tone.

“Why do you ask?”

“Nothing,” you replied, “It’s nothing, it’s stupid.”

Even he couldn’t miss the sadness in your voice, though. After a moment of uncomfortable silence, you heard the realization hit him with a gasp.

“Were you planning on scheduling an assessment?”

“I was considering it, but… I don’t know if I should.”

There were a lot of reasons why that was the case — self doubt, fear of the unknown, chronic gaslighting — but you didn’t want to go into all of that. Instead, you chose to sympathize with the plight he’d already shared with you.

“Because you’re right, other people are… not very receptive to the diagnosis.”

Some more than the rest.

Spencer paused for a second, even though you knew he wanted to say something. For a moment, he wrestled with the right words and the right tone to prevent his anger from projecting onto the wrong person.

“Would you be doing it for them?” he asked, “The other people?”

It seemed like a silly question… one you’d never really stopped to ask yourself.

“What do you mean?”

That time, when Spencer started speaking, you couldn’t find it in you to stop him. You stayed silent because you knew he was offering you his unfiltered thoughts on something personal to him. 

“I mean… why do you want someone else to tell you? I don’t want to talk you out of something that would bring you peace of mind, but I would encourage you to ask yourself if that’s really the reason you’re doing it, because that piece of paper can make a lot of things much harder for you. Immigration, medical decision making, adoption, child rearing, hell, even your job… that target on your back will impact aspects of your life that you’ve probably never even considered it would.”

You sat there, soaking in the hopelessness of the moment. You begged your heart to slow down, but it continued racing along with your thoughts.

Ultimately, there was nothing left to be said but, “Yeah, you’re right.”

“Did I upset you?”

There was a subtle regret in his voice, but you knew it had needed to be said. That bluntness, that unfiltered honesty had been exactly why you’d asked him.

So, you managed a smile as you thanked him the best way you knew how; by telling him the truth. 

“No, I appreciate your honesty.”

He responded with his own.

“Okay. I’m still sorry, though.”

“Thanks,” you said, although you’d meant ‘Me too.’ 

Spencer didn’t respond. Instead, he turned and scrambled to find a blank sheet among his notebooks. At first, you thought nothing of it. But once you heard him scribble something onto a piece of paper that was immediately ripped from its place, you turned to him.

His eyes remained fixed on the note he’d just written while he spoke.

“At the end of the day, no matter how badly we want to believe things will change… the people who don’t believe you now… they won’t believe a piece of paper, either,” he said.

Then, standing from his chair, Spencer closed the space between you, note in hand. He clutched it tightly between his fingers that were held against his chest.

“But if it helps, I believe you.”

Tears sprung from your eyes so quickly that you weren’t sure what to do with them. You decided to let them sit there, to soak in the saltwater reminder that you were not nearly as inhuman as the others made you seem. And when Spencer held out his hand to offer you the lifeline on lined paper, you took it.

He smiled.

“A doctor’s note, in case you ever need it.”

Spencer returned to his desk without another word. You set the piece of paper down and decided that, when you were ready, you would see what he’d had to say.

Then, when you were ready, you would find the handwritten message: 

“You are the only expert of your life. You already know the answer.”

(Tell me what you thought about this piece here!)

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Looking for more fics with an Autistic!Reader? Check out my Rec List here!

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[wonijinjin]

all nighter with seventeen’s 96 line

synopsis: what the title says

word count: 0.9k | genre: fluff | pairings: 96 line x gn! reader | warnings: mentions of food

“seriously, are you gonna stay up? because i doubt that you can make it.” jun raised an eyebrow, not liking how you want to ruin your sleep cycle. “look junnie i need to see the final of this show! it is not my fault it comes out at like 3am!” you shouted in excitement, pouting a bit at him. he put his hands on his ears jokingly, indicating how loud you were even though it was like 10pm already; you were usually very tired at this point of the night, but not tonight. “well, if a show is more important to you then your health…” he said, trying to make you feel guilty, trailing off. “jun don’t worry, you don’t have to stay up with me if you don’t want to. don’t risk your already not so bright sleep schedule.” you giggled while he started shaking his head, walking closer to you. “no! i wouldn’t let my baby stay up alone, plus we could cuddle until it comes out!” he kissed your forehead, pulling you close.

- worries about your health so much, afraid that you will get used to not sleeping enough and will get sick eventually

- loves your passion though; he will let it slide because you just look so cute when excited for watching the movies

- makes you stay up all day to contain your sleep cycle, preventing you from messing it up completely

“oh my god this is gonna be so fun!” hoshi squeeled while looking kind of like a maniac. you burst out laughing, finding him so cute. “ahw you are adorable my tiger. you were really waiting for me! and you really have a lot of energy in you, huh?” you said while squeezing his cheeks, giving him a chaste kiss. he just nodded while smiling, bouncing up and down just like he always does when he is excited. “let’s prepare some food for the night. when we have all the nutrients for the whole night you can drag me to the practice room to make the new choreo.” you advised, already going to the kitchen to start cooking some warm food. “alright baby tiger, understood! it is gonna be so exciting, having you with me!” he grinned, picking you up and spinning you around.

- hyper tiger, he is thrilled to have you with him and have some company as he is often lonely in the early hours of sunrise since the members usually leave after midnight

- will make the two of you take breaks though; getting silly and dancing and jumping for fun (and to keep you awake)

- very grateful that you pulled the night off for him, definitely would finish the choreo a lot faster since you are there

“are you sure you won’t fall asleep? i know you don’t really like this game that much.” wonwoo questioned as you sat down next to his gaming chair, head on his shoulder, ready to watch your boyfriend pull a gaming night till sunrise. “i am more than confident that i can do it sweetie.” you mocked him in a silly tone to which he giggled. “alright, alright. are you comfortable?” he wondered while looking down at you attentively. “yes, very much, thank you.” you replied as you snuggled into him, his focus already back to the computer screen. “are we gonna play together during the night though? like sims? or animal crossing?” you peeked up at him curiously. “of course sweetheart, whatever you want. just let me finish this game first.” he said while patting your head.

- he is very soft for you, and would love to teach you how to play some new games (if you want to of course)

- you would doze off for a bit at 2am though; he would look at you with so much adoration before nudging you to wake up and telling you how you promised yourself you could do it

- would stop to make you ramen in the middle of the night and have a deep conversation about life

“you know it is not healthy to drink that much coke, right?” you stared at woozi who was opening another can of the beverage. he stopped and gave you a confused look. “but i need it to stay awake. plus, it is better than energy drinks and you know that. you’d rather i drank those?” you sighed in defeat. “this will be your last one. not only will you stay up tonight but for the next three days with that much sugar.” you laughed. he put down the can and pulled you close to him, leaning close to your ear. “don’t worry about me babe. i will not break your stupid rules.” he smirked, his statement earning a smack on the arm from you. “okay, enough. get back to work or you will never sleep! i will be chilling here on the couch.” you shushed him. “thank you for staying.” he said while pecking your cheek.

- pretends to be annoyed but in reality really appreciates your gesture of not letting him work alone all night (again)

- shows you his process and tells you how you inspired the lyrics of one of the songs, you would instantly melt upon hearing it since it was so beautiful

- would let you baby him when he is at the turning point, barely holding on (denies it the next day and calls it a moment of weakness)

[late-to-the-party-81]

A Court of Screens and Squishmallows

AN: So back earlier in the year, when I had my 1.5k follower event, you all voted for a third part to the CamBoy Sam story, meaning it becomes a series. With other challenges, plus a case of writer’s block, this took a lot longer to get to than planned, but better late than never.

This is also dedicated to my babies, @mrs-elsie-barnes and @christywrites.

Please feel free to send asks about Camboy Sam and Squishy.

Unbeta’d but thank you to @endlesstwanted for letting me bounce ideas.

Moodboard by me and dividers by @firefly-graphics

If you would like to be on my tag list, then please click here

Master List | Series Master List 

Summary: Part of your and Sam’s relationship is you helping him plan his live streams and then watching them on your laptop in real time. This time, you got to plan his entire outfit, and if it happens to be based on your favourite book boyfriend you can be forgiven for being a little excited…

Relationship: CamBoy! Sam Wilson x Room Mate! Reader

Word Count: 3.3k

CW: Explicit Sexual Content (Masturbation, M & F), Implied Sexual Content, Voyeurism, Exhibitionism, Domestic Fluff, Banter, Established relationship, Sam Wilson is a hedonist, Fantasies.

It’s not as though you’d been a shy, retiring virgin when you met and got together with Sam - far from it - but since being with him you’d definitely had your eyes opened to how boring and mediocre sex had been in your previous relationships. And while, yes, sex wasn’t the be all and end all of a relationship, that early relationship spark - that initial burst of lust - was still burning brightly. That fire, first stoked into life in a dingy nightclub as you watched a sexy camboy gyrate and pleasure himself through your friend’s phone screen, still licked under your skin every time Sam smiled at you, that mischievous twinkle in eye. Together you’d explored so many facets of your own sexuality that you’d never even considered.

You’d never pegged yourself as a voyeur, but yet, twice a week, you devoured Sam’s exhibitionist performances from your shared room despite him being just down the hall in his studio - his old bedroom. And speaking of pegging… there was something you’d never imagined yourself doing either, but you rather enjoyed it, reducing Sam to a whimpering, wrung out mess. Mirrors were also good. And toys. So many toys. You adored how Sam wasn’t intimidated by the use of toys, seeing them as tools to help enhance and prolong pleasure and not as any kind of comment on his masculinity.

The only downside to your relationship was having to move your beloved Squishmallow collection to the lounge - there was no way you could do the dirty with them staring at you with their innocent little eyes.

As you shut the apartment door behind you, and made your way to the bathroom to wash off the day leaving a trail of clothes in your wake, you couldn’t help but smile as you remember Sam’s joy on the delivery of the last package of items he’d ordered from the adult store. Most of the contents had been for his shows, thongs, strokers and vibes, but he’d slipped in a couple of extras and had wasted no time in riling you up so he could use them on you, over and over until you’d had to tap out. You’d had to explain away your aches and pains as overexertion from a gym session to your work colleagues the following day. From the grins thrown your way, you weren’t sure they’d been convinced.

The hot water from the shower head washed over your body, soothing the stress that only came from participating in meetings that could have been emails, and you reached for your washcloth and favourite shower gel. The gentle, delicate scent filled the bathroom and you hummed a random tune to yourself. It was Friday night and Sam had one of his scheduled live-streams. He’d be done by 9.30pm and then he’d be all yours for the weekend and you couldn’t wait. Tomorrow you had a day out planned - a morning at the farmer’s market and then an afternoon’s walk through the hills with a picnic made from their purchases. Sunday would probably be a combination of lazy and domestic, because unfortunately there were always chores to do. You were hoping to persuade Sam to do the laundry if you offered to go grocery shopping and you weren’t above pulling out a few sexual bribes if you had to. You hated laundry - you and the washer just didn’t get on and the less said about the drier the better.

First, however, there was this evening, and as you walked through to your bedroom, your towel wrapped tight around your body, you thought about all the preparations that needed to be made. You’d already planned a light supper that wouldn’t fill him up too much, and as you were home first, you’d boot up his computer and check the camera connection. Luckily, as the room was now his full time studio and didn’t have to do double duty as a sleeping space, he’d been able to set up the backdrop, set dressing, camera and lights last night. You just needed to grab your own laptop so you could watch the show play out. Maybe you’d get out a toy or two just to help yourself along until Sam finished and came to join you. 

That was always your favourite part of a streaming night - watching your man perform and display himself for the lustful eyes of his subscribers, knowing that when the camera turned off it was your bed he came to. Your body that his wrapped around. The pair of you knew each other inside and out, forward, backward and upside down, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Caught up in your musings, you didn’t register Sam’s return until his spandex covered, slightly sweaty body plastered itself to your back. “Eeewww,” you squealed and you fought your way out of his loose grip as he chuckled in your ear. Unfortunately, your towel didn’t survive the struggle and you let out a huff of amused frustration as it landed on the floor with a soft thump.

“That’s what I’m talking about,” Sam joked. “I just appear and your clothes just fall off. It’s a superpower.” 

So cocky, you thought. Good thing he’s sexy as hell. You still rolled your eyes at him before purposefully turning and bending over to pick the errant fluffy cotton up from the ground. You heard his strangled groan and smiled to yourself.

“Squishy. Fuck. Why you gotta do that to me? Maybe I should sack off the stream and just take you to bed right now?” As you straightened and turned back, he took a step toward you. However, you held up your hand, stopping him in his tracks.

“Nuh-uh, buster. First off, you are sticky and gross and need your own shower. Secondly, if I don’t get to see you in that outfit and get my voyeurism fix, then I won’t be happy.”

Sam smiled back slyly and gripped the hem of his cycling top. With a sway in his hips, a move you recognised only too well, he slowly pulled the skin tight fabric up. As he bared his torso, he rolled his abs, and despite your best intentions you couldn’t draw your gaze away. Which meant you didn’t see the balled up, sweaty top making its way towards you until it hit you in the face.

Your affronted shout was just met with a hearty belly laugh as your boyfriend shed his clothes across the floor as he took himself for his own ablutions. “You’re lucky I love your dumb ass,” you shouted at his departing, and frankly disgustingly attractive, posterior. Sam just flipped you the bird and you snorted. Fuck, you loved him so much it was nauseating.

Slipping into a lacy bralet with matching panties, you left the bedroom and made your way to the studio. The backdrop, made to look like stone walls that you’d find in a castle in Europe, hung from the back wall, and in front of it a large chair that the pair of you had worked on to make it resemble a throne. You could also see the zipped garment bag, an unusual bulge to it indicating that it wasn’t just a suit inside. You really hoped your vision had come together as well as you imagined it. You smiled, just thinking about what was to come, and crossed over to the computer with a swing in your step. Once you’d powered it up, you switched on the lights that were already aimed at the ‘stage’. Satisfied that you’d done as much as you could to help Sam prepare, you made your way into the kitchen.

After taking all of your dinner ingredients out of the fridge, you decided to make you both a cup of tea as well. You put the kettle on the stove and then reached down your mugs from the cupboard, unable to keep the soft smile from your face as you did so. Your fingers traced over the handle of Sam’s mug, the silly approximation of a bicycle being the thing that made you realise what had been  - literally - in front of you.

When Sam hugged you behind this time, it was a far more pleasant and welcome experience. The clean smell of his own shower gel surrounded you as much as the man himself did. Yes, his skin was still damp, but as it was with water and not sweat, so you didn’t mind. 

“You looking forward to tonight then, baby?” His voice was a deep purr in your ear and your core clenched in response to his laden words. Somehow you managed to drag yourself from his embrace, shooting him a smile over your shoulder as you went to pour the hot water into your mugs.

“I always look forward to your streams.”

“But this is the first one where you a hundred percent picked the outfit.”

“Yeah, and you’ve been totally mean not letting me see it all put together.” You handed him his drink and looked at him, still a little in awe of his beauty as he leant against the side of the island, with droplets of water still dotted over his skin and only a small, white towel wrapped around his waist.

“Can you blame me for wanting to make an impact,” he responded, right eyebrow slightly raised.

You leant forward, pressing your lips against his softly, tasting the camomille lingering on them. “I thought it was my turn with the paddle,” you teased and enjoyed the brief moment of satisfaction as Sam’s eyes went large before he started to chuckle. 

“Whatever you want, Squishy. You know it’s all good to me.”

You adored the way the two of you could tease and joke with each other. “Hhmm, I’ll keep that in mind for later on then. But for now,” you pushed a plate across the island toward him, “you need to eat so you have enough energy for what I’m gonna want to put you through after your stream finishes.”

With a grin splitting his face, Sam saluted you before picking up the plate of cajun chicken salad. “Yes, ma’am. I’ll be ready for action, ma’am.” He sauntered - fucking sauntered - over to the couch and placed his mug on the coffee table. He also spread his legs, letting his towel fall open and giving you a glimpse of everything going on under there, absolutely paying you back for your earlier teasing. You pulled your lower lip between your teeth, then picked up your own plate and went to join him.

As the pair of you ate and drank, you shot the shit about your respective days and your plans for the following day.

“Ooo,” Sam exclaimed, “do you think they’ll have those little pastries again? The ones with the sour cherries and the vanilla cream stuff?”

“Creme patissiére? I hope so. They were so delicious last time. But I want some of the sour-dough bread, and the goat’s cheese. And the onion relish…”

Sam laughed at your enraptured food based ramblings. “I’ll make sure to go past the ATM on the way, shall I?” You elbowed him and stuck out your tongue, eliciting more laughter. Eventually though, 7pm rolled around and Sam excused himself with a soft lingering kiss that left your fingers and toes tingling with anticipation.

As he went into his studio, you busied yourself by tidying up after your meal, and preparing a snack platter for later on - you were both likely to be peckish after you’d worn yourselves out. Then you had to retrieve all of your strewn clothes and move them to the washer. Why either of you had thought that undressing as you walked was a good idea, you didn’t know. With the chores done, you returned to your bedroom, with five minutes to spare - just enough time to switch on your own laptop and load up Sam’s subscriber page. As the wait screen with its countdown timer appeared, you settled on the bed and drew your trusty vibrator out from the drawer at the side of the bed.

Then it was show time.

The backdrop and throne appeared in front of you, with some old-timey, almost ‘Ren Faire’ like, music playing in the background, but your attention was quickly diverted when you caught sight of part of Sam’s costume making its way into shot. Black leather arched into view, pulled taught and shaped like a giant bat’s wing. You squeezed your thighs together and leant a little closer to the screen. As Sam himself moved into frame, you let out an involuntary whimper. Black leather pants were moulded to his legs, ass and crotch - there was no hiding what was going on down there - and his upper body was encased in a black, lace necked shirt. The cord was loose, leaving the shirt wide open, giving a frankly scandalous view of the upper curves of his pecs and the sleeves - oh god, the sleeves! - were rolled up to just before his elbows. Over the shirt was a leather harness, with shiny chrome buckles and other decorative elements. That’s what the fake wings were attached to, but it still made a statement. A leather effect half mask covered Sam’s face from the nose up, however his eyes still glittered out of it like dark precious gems that, even through the camera, seemed to shine a light on the very essence of your soul. He’d even gone as far to attach fake ear tips, giving him an even more other-worldy appearance. He looked like every wet dream you’d ever had.

“There you are, little mortal…”

You almost combusted at his dark tone, but Sam acted as though it was nothing and reached out to the side to bring a goblet into the shot with him. He took a slow drink, never drawing his eyes away from the camera. His strong fingers, covered in rings, gripped the metal neck of the drinking vessel, and when he pulled it away from his mouth, the sheen of red wine could be seen on his lips. His tongue poked out, wiping away the residue and from your bed your breath hitched with need. He hadn’t said anything, but the power in his stance - his demeanor - had you flooding your panties. 

He placed the goblet down, just out of view, and trailed one beringed hand down his shirt, the light reflecting off the jewellery, a poor mimic of the sparkle that was in his eyes. His long fingers grazed over the bulge in his pants and you saw his cock twitch under the restriction of the material. He did it again, a moan leaving his lips and his eyelids fluttering. Without really thinking about it, you picked up your vibe, turning it onto its lowest setting, and began tracing it over your damp underwear. Sam’s hands moved to his belt, and he deftly unbuckled it before pulling out of the loops quickly with one hand. You pressed the vibe against yourself more firmly. 

There was a soft thunk as the belt dropped to the floor and Sam gave a predatory smile to the camera as he unbuttoned his fly. There was enough of a view of his skin and the hair of his happy trail to make it clear he had no underwear on. You watched as he slid his hand inside, cupping himself. He prolonged the eye contact as he stroked himself, teasing you - and his audience - with brief glimpses of the head of his cock.

He picked up the goblet once again and walked backwards until he reached the ‘throne’, whereupon he sat upon it insouciantly, lounging against its tall back. You wondered what he was thinking about as he put on his show. Was he imagining you standing in front of him, putting on some display of your own for his idle pleasure? He took another drink of wine then lazily pulled his cock from his pants. He stroked it slowly, from root to tip and back up again. From the sheen you could tell he’d lubed his cock up before he started, and you wished he was here right now, so you could take him in your mouth. Instead you just moved your vibe inside your panties.

“Join me,” he entreated with a purr, encouraging you to touch yourself even more.

This stream was so unlike Sam’s previous one. In those he’d been obviously performing - every move was calculated to titillate , but this was different. It was as though he was the viewer, watching his hundreds of fans touching themselves in the hope of being touched by him in return. He groaned and closed his eyes again, pleasuring himself with a firmer grip and a twist to his wrist. He was the epitome of a ruler - a High Lord or a General - who did as he pleased. The dominant aura he exuded was heady, and you couldn’t help but wonder if that was something the pair you should explore further.

Jolts of pleasure arced through you as you pinched and rolled at your nipples. It was getting more difficult to hold yourself back as you watched Sam ‘watching’ you. And then he spoke again.

“That’s it, darling. Just like that. I love watching you touch yourself for me.”

Fuck! It wasn’t that dirty talk was alien to the pair of you - you’d indulged in it on numerous occasions, but the outfit, his demeanor. Was this awakening something within you?

“Keep going, sweetheart. Show me how pretty you look. I bet you wish I was touching you back.” 

Your breathing picked up and your skin was clammy. You were so close - closer than you normally got while watching him. Your vibrator slid effortlessly through your folds, nudging your engorged clit with each pass as you watched Sam pleasure himself. You had the fleeting thought about whether his other subscribers felt the intimacy in this, but quickly returned to thoughts of your own pleasure and how, soon, Sam would be in this room, kissing you. Touching you. Fucking you.

You came. Your body tensed and tingles shot up and down your body from head to toe. Somehow though, over your own cries of release, you heard the soft grunt that Sam reserved for his on-screen orgasms. He was still regarding you through the camera lens, his milky spend splattering over the leather of his pants and his lower lip looking especially plush - he must have bitten it when he came.

Sam took a deep gulp from his goblet, before tucking himself back into his pants, although he didn’t fasten them. Then, somehow not trembling with the aftershocks of his pleasure, he rose to his feet and stalked back toward the camera.

“Thank you, darling,” he said in a low voice. “I enjoyed that.” And that was that. He walked off out of frame and the screen went dark.

“Fuck me,” you muttered under your breath and tried to regain some of your equilibrium. If he was that hot from the other side of your apartment, what was going to be like in a few minutes when he appeared in the room? Speaking of which…

You somehow managed to move your laptop onto the floor just as you heard footsteps coming down the hall, accompanied by the unusual sounds of something bouncing off the walls and Sam’s soft curses. “Goddamn wings. Too fucking wide.” You giggled. Somehow this was both unserious and sexy at the same time.

The door to your room burst open and Sam - turned sideways - walked through. How was he hotter-looking in the flesh? His wings swept out behind him, partially blocking out the light from the hallway and making him seem even more imposing. You were glad he’d ditched the mask though - you loved seeing his full facial expressions.

You reclined on the bed with a coy smile, leaning back on your elbows. “Very Illyrian coded,” you purred. 

“Did you enjoy that, darling?” Sam stepped closer, looming over you, and you fought the urge to squirm under his gaze. He bent forward and rested his hands on the mattress either side of your legs.

“I did. Very much, my Lord.” You hoped you weren’t overdoing the coquettishness, but it wasn’t every day that you managed to convince your real boyfriend to dress up like one of your book boyfriends, and you planned to wring every last bit of enjoyment from it.

“What do you think about my big… wingspan?” He wiggled his eyebrows and you couldn’t hold back your giggle at the silly double entendre.

“It provided a lot of… stimulation,” you countered and he smiled broadly at you.

“Well I hope you didn’t wear yourself out too much. I’m not done with you yet, mortal” He dropped to his knees and you peered down at him owlishly, before letting out a shriek, part surprise and part excitement, as Sam grabbed your ankles and yanked you towards him. As his tongue started to trace over your lace covered core, the leather of his wings brushed tantalisingly over your knee, and your last coherent thought was whether he’d be up for fucking you against the wall as you held onto his harness…

Tag list: @doasyoudesireandlive, @goldylions, @galactusdevourerofworlds,

@apenny4thots, @king814318

@km-ffluv, @wheezy-stucky, @kmc1989, @kombatfather1796

[e-rorrim]

bruh I haven’t played/watched someone play mouthwash but from what I’ve seen it must fucking suck being curly in all that mess like what the fuck

I had top surgery in May and my family was taking care of me, and i don’t have the best relationship with my family but yk they helped me out but like would just lowkey let me rot in my bed and that shit is genuinely painful like fuck 😭😭😭 I’m all grimy, can barely move (for the first few weeks at least, and have like 0 independence. If it weren’t for the bidet I installed, I would’ve needed help wiping my ass—

I nearly got bedsores on my tailbone and back of my head (it felt like? Cause it was starting to ache so bad and I was so sore) bc I literally couldn’t really do anything except lay down which was fucking awful cause I was pretty used to doing anything and everything by myself and whatnot

I was doped up on painkillers and bc of that I got SOOOOO constipated and bloated, literally looked like I was pregnant with octuplets or smth. was painful and I hadn’t pooped in like a month.

like purely observing all these interactions happening, and having weird intimate/vulnerable moments with people who may or may not necessarily like you because you need help and can’t do it on ur own— all you can really do is think about your connections, your past interactions, life, and how much u wish u could move rn bc u are so sore and so achey and ur tailbone is really starting to hurt from just constantly laying down in one position and how awfully grimy you are and just having to lay in it

having to rely on their schedule for them to take care of you even when you ask for something to be done, u gotta hope that they remember/have time to want to care for u.. my family is a bunch of night owls that procrastinate and I am very much not that, so at one point I was literally crying to have a shower after waiting for like a few days straight and only after crying did I get that shower (no hate to them, they had a lot going on, but holy moly did it make me tweak out)

bro can barely turn his head, I know that neck is HURTING and sore as hell on top of all them injuries— plus this hooligan is running around and everyone is having a bad time and there’s nothing you can really do about it except lay there and HOPE someone remembers to clean you up and redress you and adjust your pillow into a better position because you’re uncomfortable and slipped from the original cozy position

like holy shit I feel so bad for that fool 😭😭

[a-998h]

Aska nd ye shall receive!!!!!

SAGau idea!

Reader almost always plays on co-op since they unlocked it alongside their three friends at scheduled intervals when they all have the time.

Said reader can also code, and to make up for the fact that not all their friends can buy or pirate (cuz of lack of cash or storage) games they have, they make mods they add in, then add out, alongside lots of solo beta testing.

(if this isn't possible IRL, suspend your disbelief)

Also theres no NSFW in this ask or being requested it's just jokes a la "3AM challenge gone wrong! Gone sexual"

also there's one implication of catholic trauma

plus capital letters

Sorry if anything makes no sense

Anyways—

===============

The Backrooms

*insert law & order audio*

Reader, playing Aether. "I added the Backrooms."

The Kaeya Main "Oh God."

The Childe Main "You added the what??"

"Same." «== they're playing and want to adopt Ferminent

"The Backrooms, this fictional idea that even an infant hitting their elbow wrong has the .000001% chance of—this is not mathematically accurate—teleporting you to this uncanny infinite realm, and the only way out is to somehow repeat what got you in there. And I don't think doing either on purpose is humanly feasibly."

"I understood none of that but okay." The four laughing ensued.

"okay but" wheezing "how— how are we gonna get in if you can't do it on purpose??"

"yeah that sounded like a little bit like an oversight."

"a LiTtLe BiT"

"literally just click that button that wasn't on the screen before."

"oh "

pop!

"oooh god. I'm getting catholic flashbacks!"

"oh shit you okay? Do you need a break or—"

"no. No I'm good"

"oh good"

"Any monsters to worry about?"

"yes." They all start laughing "Unless it's bugged in co-op because I only play tested this on single player!"

"backrooms gone wrong! We died! Gone sexual!"

"cops called!" "sixty nine hospitalized!"

"no!" Laughing continues and as it dies down: "we're escaping the backrooms, and I'm using the version with clues to reaching the next levels so we're not stuck here all day."

"so are you gonna help us oooorrrr . . . "

"you're alone, I'm gonna be following you around as you screw around!" The dying laugher peaks again

"you put us in this mess!" "you allowed me too!!!"

And then the loudest inhumane scream ensued, alongside theirs as they scattered.

"Kane pixels monster is real! Is this the Kane pixel backrooms? Oh good we're all fucked!!"

"and the wikidot!" Now only reader was laughing

"are you speaking a different DIALECT?!"

"pretty much" gasp "it's chasing meee!!"

"you deserve it! Daaance deluded puppeteer daaance!!" And then the reader ran in their direction from behind "you used me as a meat shield!"

"to demonstrate we all get four lives! If we die a fifth time, we start at the first level again, repeat!"

"yeah that reassures me" they say sarcastically, now controlling Zhongli "wait first level—?"

"there's arrows on the walls" "tell me where, I'm gonna carry this team"

==========

"What the heeellll, I can't even see any damage on the monsters" "you can't kill what cannot be killed"

"oh crap." Dies. Xiao takes Zhongli's place

"disorder? In MY backrooms??"

"it's more likely thank you think!"

=================

"Since when did you change from Kaeya to Ayato?"

"since when did you die all the way back to Freminet?"

"I didn't I got gooood!!" Spinning circled around them "Aahh!! Friendly fire! Friendly fire!"

Freminet is replaced with Gaming "I literally hate you"

"I love you too <3 AAAAAA—"

================

"guys help! I clipped into the walls!"

"you reap what you soooowww, fucker!" A sword strikes them "AAHHH!!"

================

"I think this is what the abyss feels like"

"I think that's an insult" "you've never been in there"

===many deaths & respawns later===

"you're a monster you know that right"

Giggling, "yes yes yes!!"

"we should do that again" "as the one with arthritis from carrying you idiots, I veto it."

"veto denied :D"

The Wither Storm

Playing Kokomi "what is it this time"

"Wither Storm :)" Reader, playing Fischl looks up at them

Playing Xinyan "uh oh"

Eula "on a scale of one to backrooms, how difficult will this one be?" "Collateral damage"

"and that's ignoring the proximity voice chat!"

Fast paced breathing "oh thank God that wasn't a thing in the Backrooms, we were just using discord"

"yeah it's a shaaaame"

"wait, we couldn't lay a finger in the Backrooms"

"you can kill the wither storm and still engage in friendly fire"

"thank goodness!!"

"so what's in store?"

"I'm gonna teleport us to another plane—because we don't want Teyvat harmed in the process—and we're gonna summon the wither storm and kill it."

"let's do it blind."

"yeeeesss!!!"

"did we not learn from the backrooms???"

"no we did not!"

"blind it is! Let's go!"

"wait—!"

===============

The Wither Storm is summoned! And like a standard wither simple shoots out skulls that destroys where it hits and inflicts withering on any living being.

"WHAT THE HEEELLLL???"

"LOOK WHAT YOU DID!"

"guys get building materials—!" Xinyan is replaced with Lisa who is far, far away from where the death was "And I withered away. And I'm away from everyone

"wow, I can't hear anyone!"

===============

Beamed up by the Wither Storm: "guys help"

"one I barely heard you, scream next time, two it's already to late for you." Eula is them eaten in one piece by one of the storm's mouths

"oh my fucking god it has a halo . . . It has like four of them" Looking up, far away from the group with Yae Miko, running away after a head faces their way

Far far away, Kaeya takes Eula's place in the plane

(Google image "crackers wither storm" to get what I mean in the last paragraph)

===============

"bestie!!" Reader controlling Hu Tao walks up a small hill

"Oh my God! Bestie!" Another Hu Tao looks in their ideection, they run towards each other "regroup! Regroup! We gotta regroup cuz the next phase is gonna begin!"

===============

"we did all that work and never even got a nether star" Sitting down with Heizou

"says who?" Back with Fischl ":O"

"the inventory . . . " They habitually jump with Kazuha

"oh, what's this I see?" sticking to Hu Tao after the Wither Storm

"who wants to read the description?" By now everyone opened their inventory to find a fourth of a white, purple tinted four-pointed star

"As testament to your suffering, a piece of the Nether Star joins you growing treasury!! A Devastation reduced to a mere chapter in your life"

"look, I get that after we're done you just remove the mod forever and leave it to gather dust, but at least, at least let us keep this even after removing the Wither Storm mod."

"and let us make a beacon while your at it!"

"sure why the hell not!"

"what the hell is a beacon and will I want in?"

"you all will!!"

"yes we do!"

"you don't even know what it does!x

"and neither do you!"

===============

Personally I imagine that Teyvat is a bit split on this.

On one hand, their Grace is far too happy with their friends who Teyvat deems as fellow Creators they play around with and they're playing around with their divine powers.

On the other hand, making mods and bug testing is time consuming and both of these take attention their Grace could be giving them instead.

They've heard plenty times the Creator complain about their world's spaghetti code, the Reader has cursed the creator—"who the hell made this?"—many times and Teyvatians interpret this as either the Creator having lost their memories or an act of self-hatred or a blend of both.

It doesn't help how Reader curses themselves whenever they find an error in their own code

Though I wonder the thoughts of Vessels from four worlds being used for four gods to meet in scheduled meetings either during normal gameplay or modded gameplay.

No but imagine some vessels doing things their code supposedly shouldn't allowed but it gets brushed off as a mod glitch 😭 lmao, like say, Kaeya muttering "Cataclysm . . ." To himself during the Wither Storm and only barely not being noticed

BRO WHAT WILL LIKE KHAENRI'AH PEOPLE AND ARCHONS AND OTHERS THINK WHEN THEY SEE THE NETHER STAR FRAGMENTS FORM A FOUR-POINTED STAR TOGETHER AKA THE NETHER STAR WHICH IN TEYVAT THE FOUR POINTED STAR IS THE SYMBOL OF KHAENRI'AH?

That's all I have in me today

feel free, not but pressured, to add your own ideas, add onto my ideas, etcetera, etcetera as you please, you got my absolute blessing

take your time as needed

Hope your having a good day!!

Thank you for sending me this.

This is awesome on its own and it must be shared.

But seriously, you're right. Teyvat wants you to be happy, but only with them. So they come up with a plan.

They're going to not work and basically annoy your friends off the game. They know I'll make you sad, but you have them to make you feel better.

If you friends are extra stubborn, then more extreme measures are but in place. Like bugging out, not ascending but taking the materials, and stuff like that.

Eventually when your friends quit the game, you go back to solo mode. Now you spend your time with them. While it makes them sad to see you upset about being able to play with your friends anymore, they'll be your new friends and be the best characters they can for you.

After, you'll be with them soon.