#props to my friend for telling me to 'just write something with no pressure and let it be what it is'

[waterfallofspace]

What A Way To Start A Year

T/im learns a little something about karma, friends, and care. Seems even J/on isn't quite as cold as he seems.

A M/agnus A/rchives fic, set somewhere pre-season 1. Shouldn't have any spoilers, but proceed with caution just incase~ (nothing late game, just character dynamic things)

Welcome to "I meant for this to be a little drabble and I wrote 3k words"~ Having a bit of hyperfixation and burn out as I started this new year, soooo I decided to make T/im suffer <3 Not promising quality seeing as I wrote this all in the span of tonight, but consider it a lil 'too long' drabble, and happy new years!

Best way to start off the new year, giving one of your lil guys a lil snz <3

Characters: T/im, M/artin, S/asha, and J/on. Word Count: 3.9k

(CW: There is some swearing, and light descriptions of high fevers)

Christmas had been good this year, maybe the best it had in a long time. Life of the party as always, Tim had enjoyed getting to spend it with his old, and new, colleagues. On top of that, Jon had been laid up with a pretty awful cold for a couple days leading up to it, so he wasn’t around to crush any brilliant ideas Tim came up with. 

This led to the budget receiving a fairly substantial hit, though many researchers donated to the cause when they learned this borrowing wasn’t exactly approved. Hell, even Elias had pitched in, claiming something or other about ‘archivists fit for the job not exactly growing on trees’, and wanting to ‘save some of Jon’s sanity’. 

“Tim? Are you even listening to me?”  

Pulled back to the conversation at hand, Tim lifts his gaze to the taller man fidgeting nervously in front of him. Martin was never one for confrontations, and usually the first ‘no’ would have been more than enough to lead to a string of apologies for even asking. Today however, he seems to have grown a spine. At the worst possible moment. 

“Oh come on,” Martin continues, missing the groan slipping from Tim’s throat. “Even Jon agreed to it!” 

“I’m not really in the party mood,” Tim retorts, leaning back in his chair. “Besides, Jon didn’t agree to celebrate, he agreed not to stop the celebration. Not the same thing.” 

From across her desk, Sasha gives a low chuckle. “He’s got you there, Martin.”

“Can you at least give it a little thought before turning it down?” Martin insists, completely out of character for someone usually so eager to please. 

What the hell has gotten into him today? He didn’t even seem to enjoy himself that much at the Christmas party. Sure, he had a few drinks and mingled with the staff, but he’d left as soon as it was over, not waiting around for chatting like Tim and Sasha.

Clearing his throat with a grimace, Tim casts Sasha a dark look as she chuckles again. Knowing far too much, as usual. Especially when it came to him. If it was anyone else, Tim would hate it with all his being, but given that it’s Sasha… well it’s a welcome invasion. 

Still, it would be nice if she didn’t rat him out. And to Martin of all people, well let’s just say he saw what happened when Jon was sick. Yeah, passing on that one. Attention is great, Tim lives for it, but the coddling? Not really his style. 

“hiEH– guh…”

Damn, that had been a close one. Thankfully Martin seems oblivious, though Sasha sits up in her chair, reaching down into a drawer to fish something out. 

Turning his focus back to Martin, Tim provides an offer, desperate to just have the interaction come to an end. 

“Fine, I’ll show up, but I don’t want any part in planning it.” 

“Oh of course, I’ll handle all the details, I mean it’s just a new years party, how much can there really be to do? I mean food, timing, gotta make sure we have keys to the building– oh but if Jon’s there, that shouldn’t be a problem…” Martin says, rambling beginning to fade into the background as Tim finds himself unable to- 

“hH– ek’CHhiew!” 

“-Oh, bless you!” Martin says, his own thoughts long forgotten. 

Unable to get a word out, Tim merely waves a hand, ducking into his shoulder for another, “eTChhew!” 

“Bles-” 

And another, “iTSChh’ew!” 

“Oh ble-” 

And another, “ehh– kTChh’iew!” 

Silently Sasha stands, handing Tim a pack of tissues. Must have been what she was looking for in the desk. Once again, knowing more than she should, of course she picked up on his patterns. 

Accepting them gratefully, Tim pulls a few out and roughly rubs at his nose, pointedly avoiding Martin’s worried gaze. Gripping his still trembling nose through the tissue, Tim sucks in a tight breath through his teeth, holding for a beat, before finally spinning around in his chair for a final- 

“hH’ETCSHh-ieuw! Whew, bless me.” 

Martin’s hands are fidgeting again, seemingly unsure of what to do with himself as Tim gives his nose a light massage through the tissue. He’s aware enough not to point it out, but is nearly shaking with the effort of suppressing his concerns. 

With a sigh, Tim meets his eyes. “I’m fine, Martin. I always sneeze like that.” He leaves out ‘when I’m sick��. It also happens if he’s suffering allergies, though he doubts that would be a point in his defense given it’s the middle of winter. 

“Yeah he’s not kidding,” Sasha pipes up, throwing Tim a wink as he glares. “You should hear him in spring, once it starts he can be going for hours.” 

“I wouldn’t say hours, Sash-” 

“Remember the cherry blossom incident?” Sasha interrupts, sending a sugary smile over to Martin. “He was wrecked for the rest of the day, I was almost certain he was never gonna stop. Even considered giving a statement here, that reaction was almost supernatural.” 

Tim winces, an audible moan slipping from his lips. “We swore to never speak of it again.” 

Sasha laughs, Tim giving her another playful glare from behind his tissues. “You swore that, I did no such thing.” 

Thankfully Martin doesn’t pry, having enough common sense to offer a polite chuckle, and offer some excuse about ‘planning’. Still, he can’t help himself from shooting a meek “I hope you feel better soon” over his shoulder, Tim giving him finger guns in return. 

“This is karma, you know,” Sasha calls after Martin’s outside earshot. “You took pleasure in Jon’s suffering, so now it’s your turn to suffer the same fate.” 

“No, thi- eTChhew! Scuse me,” Tim says, rubbing his nose with the tissue one last time before depositing it in his nearly overflowing trash can. Another tissue is plucked as his eyes begin to water, nostrils flaring with reckless abandon. Never just one. 

“kTChh’uew! hh’iTChh –uew! Tihhckles… eTCHh! etchh’uh! hiehh–” 

The last one toys with him, tracing the rims of his nostrils, back up his sinuses, a gentle itch that seems to burn against every inch of his nose. Finally, with a desperate gasp, Tim ducks into his wrist for the last, “heh’ATChhh –iew!” 

“Many blessings. Sounds like you need them,” Sasha offers with a wince, tossing another pack of tissues over, which Tim catches with a single hand, the other still gripping his nose. 

After taking a moment to clean himself up, Tim shoots her his signature smile, ignoring the eye roll she shoots back. “Where was I?” 

“Admitting this is karma?” 

“It’s not karma, it’s lack of common sense. Going to a party where a coworker is sick, and still drinking and eating the same meals” Tim says, aiming a rough cough into his sleeve. 

Sasha winces once more at the quality of the cough, hands rummaging through her drawers once more as she tosses a reply back. “And yet you’re the only one who caught it. Seems like karma to me.” 

Closing the distance between them in a single stride, Sasha places a hand on Tim’s shoulder, voice softening. “It’s two days till new years, why don’t you go home and try to get some rest? I doubt Martin will object, and I’ll cover for you with Jon.” 

Before Tim can form his rebuttal, Sasha places a box of paracetamol and a jar of vapor rub in front of him. Nodding his thanks, Tim lets out another harsh cough into his arm, leaning as far away from Sasha as he can manage. 

With a light rub to his shoulder, Sasha walks to the door, holding it open with a pointed look. “Go home, you sound awful.” 

“Alright, alright. I got the message. hH’ETchhiew!” Tim says, gathering his care package and beginning his walk down the hallway. 

“If I hear the rest of that fit happening in this building, I’m telling Martin how ill you really are,” Sasha calls after him, a smile flashing over her face as Tim holds up his hands in mock surrender, before ducking back into his arm with another muffled burst. 

— 

“You look horrible.” 

Tim manages a weary smile from behind the tightly wound scarf. “Thagk you.” 

Martin winces, standing in the doorframe, seemingly oblivious to the winter chill soaking into Tim’s bones. Even just the walk from the train station was hell on earth, standing out here is doing him no favours. 

Turning away with a throat scraping cough, Tim manages to clear the congestion enough to finish the sentence somewhat understandably. A great feat, given how fast his voice is retreating. “May I remind you that I’m only here because you insisted.” 

“Right, well I… I didn’t know how bad-” Martin begins, realizing spreading across his face like a wildfire as a chill leaves Tim breathless. “Oh god, I’m making you freeze to death while you’re already this sick, I’m so sorry, come in, I’ll go make you a tea.” 

Tim nods his thanks as he piles inside the warm institute, cursing his aching lungs as each breath of warm air seems to burn them from the inside out. Martin rushes away, nearly crashing into a few researchers as he makes his frantic dash for the kitchen. 

The scarf is reluctantly removed, a shudder running through Tim’s back as the warm air does nothing to soothe what he’s now certain is a growing fever. A few researchers wave to him, offering some idle chit-chat as he makes his way inside.

For the most part, people give him a wide berth, apparently he looks as bad as he feels. Tissues in hand, gripping them like a lifeline, Tim finds his way to a couch and lets himself sink into it. The party buzzes around him, fading into background noise. 

Martin returns soon after, the mug vibrating slightly as he attempts to steady his hand. “I wasn’t sure what kind you’d want, we have a pretty limited amount, but I have a few extras in my desk– oh I could have probably found one for colds and flus, I’m not sure which this is, I thought cold before but you look-” 

“Martin,” Tim interrupts, voice cutting uncomfortably through his raw throat. “Can I have the cup?” 

“Oh, right, sorry!” Martin says, a sheepish grin crossing his face, nerves more than anything else, as he hands Tim the mug. Tim gives another appreciative nod, taking a cautious sip. 

The warm liquid feels like heaven against his throat, and he barely manages to choke back a whimper. The flavour is still a mystery, Martin never actually got to that part. Given how little he can taste at the moment, seems it’s gonna remain that way. Still, the heat beginning to warm his chest is a welcome relief, and Tim has to fight to keep his eyes from drifting shut…

“Watch out!” 

The voice rouses him, his eyes snapping open just in time to witness Jon dropping to his knees in front of the couch. The realization doesn’t sink in for another minute, Tim blinking the tired from his eyes and trying to figure out why people are staring… and why there’s a hand on his finge– 

Oh, the tea. Thankfully Jon’s reflexes seemed to kick in just in time, his hands guiding Tim’s cup to the table next to him. Judgement clouds the boss's eyes as he turns back, fully ready to chastise Tim, no doubt. Jon opens his mouth, one hand beginning to point, but as his eyes scan Tim’s form, his demeanor changes instantly. 

“You don’t seem well.” Jon’s voice is still firm, but with a hint of something Tim can’t quite place. On anyone else, he’d call it concern. On Jon… perhaps concern isn’t far off, though the underlying criticism of the statement irritates him. 

“I wonder why that could be? It’s almost as if someone came to the Christmas party sick enough to fall asleep standing. Twice.” Tim says, sarcasm lining his words, alongside the congestion he can’t seem to fully shake. 

“Well in that case,” Sasha chimes in, cheerful voice a natural antithesis to the misery coursing through Tim’s system. “Seems you’re halfway there!” 

“Hey, I was lying down, that’s hardly the sahh… same thing– hH’ETchh!” 

“Here we go,” Sasha says, already turning on her heel to find a tissue box as Tim’s hitches increase in desperation. 

“aHTChh’ew! gn’tchhew!” 

“Bless,” Jon offers, a brief confusion crossing his face as Sasha laughs, shaking her head. 

“He’s not done,” She says, handing over the tissue box. 

Tim grabs for it blindly, too caught up in the fit to even attempt dignity. Still, the eyes on him do leave him with a hint of embarrassment, and the onslaught is muffled as best he can manage. “hH’MMpshhew! eMPFShh’ieh! hh’MFSHhueh!” 

Blessings sound out from the room, Tim managing to wave a hand towards the ones offering them, eyes still watering. As the fit seems to stall, he lowers his tissues, red nose now visibly twitching. 

“Are you alright?” Jon asks, the hint of concern from before now plainly evident. That’s frankly more alarming than it should be, and Tim finds himself wanting to… reassure the boss. 

“I’m okay, it’s juhh… j-just… huhh–” But it seems his nose has other plans, a tissue being raised once more as Tim paws at the appendage. “‘Scuhhse me, I still have… hahhve to… to… hiHh– eTCHh’ew! hk’ASCHh–oo!” 

This time the tickle fades with the final pitchy sneeze, Tim letting out a low groan as he mashes his nose into the ever growing collection of tissues he’s clutching. A few people call out final blessings, Sasha laughing out hers as Tim’s face goes red once more. 

Martin picks this time to enter the room with drinks, Tim letting his eyes flutter shut as the focus shifts off his misery. A gentle touch keeps him from drifting off to sleep, prying open an eye to find Sasha settling onto his left. 

“Careful, don’t want to catch this,” Tim manages, leaning against his right shoulder to muffle another stream of chesty coughs. Sasha winces as it goes on past the realm of comfort, her hand finding his back. 

“Don’t worry about me, I haven’t earned this cold, I didn’t make use of Jon’s or your suffering,” She says, the playful tone not masking the growing worry in her posture. 

While she can read him like a book, she’s no mystery to him either. The tension in her fingers, absentmindedly stroking patterns on his back. The way she subconsciously tries to support his body weight, despite them both sitting. The look in her eyes when he manages to stall the coughing long enough to meet them. 

With this brief respite from the attack, Sasha takes the chance to bring Tim’s tea back, his fingers wrapping around the warm mug. The first few sips burn, his lungs protesting, begging to return to their efforts to expel all the irritation. By the third, however, the warmth is spreading once more, easing the spasms. 

“Alright?” Sasha asks, beginning to stand from the couch. Tim nods his reply, taking another slow sip. “Think you’ll make it till midnight? We’ve still got a few hours to go.” 

He nods his approval again, not yet trusting his voice enough to make an attempt. Sasha simply smiles, easing back into the party that– Tim had almost forgotten existed. That fever must be worse than he thought, given how loud it is. A fact that’s now pounding against his head in harmony with his heartbeat. 

The party continues on, Sasha and Martin taking turns checking in on Tim as he slips rapidly in and out of consciousness. Seconds turn to hours, and before he knows it, it’s two minutes to midnight. 

As Tim blinks against the harsh fluorescent lighting, it’s Jon that stands before him, hand hovering near his side. Tim begins to speak, breaking off into a cough as his voice comes out rough with sleep and congestion. 

“What’s up boss?” He manages with the second attempt, not missing Jon’s wince at the nasal quality. 

“You simply look… well, the festivities are nearly over, I was just inquiring as to…” Jon seems to get stuck, eyes wandering down to the couch as he finishes. “I know you took the train here, I was seeing if you needed an escort home.” 

“How kind, I’d be delighted to have your accompaniment,” Tim responds, the wit clouding the fact he… hadn’t actually considered needing to go home. Jon seems to take this answer as satisfactory, ignoring all the sarcasm as he gives a tight nod and an out of practice smile. 

From across the room Martin calls out, something about a countdown. Tim attempts to pull himself to a stand, finding Sasha’s arm around his waist, guiding him to the wall. Leaning against it, he lets his rough voice join the chorus as they count into the new year. 

Despite how the lights and noise had pounded into his skull, everyone chanting in unison helps Tim realize that… there actually aren’t that many people here. Aside from his coworkers, there’s only a few researchers, and Elias is not in attendance.

Honestly, thank whatever cosmic being may exist for that one, he had been none too fond of Jon’s arriving sick. Tim shudders to think what he would have said about this state. He shouldn’t have come, but… something about how insistent Martin was… well he just couldn’t disappoint that loveable idiot. 

Somehow Tim finds he’s managed to keep up with the counting, despite being worlds away in his thoughts. As they approach the final numbers, a feathery sensation begins to spread through his nostrils- no. 

Absolutely not, this is not the time. It’s never just one, there’s not enough people here, someone’s gonna notice. And I mean, it’s not like he’s hiding the fact he feels like death, but… drawing that much attention is also not the goal. 

“Five! Four!”

“hiehh- h’ngTchh!” He manages to stifle the first, the congestion pounding in his head as the tickle seems to only get worse. 

“Three! Two!” 

“I cad’t– nNDtch! nGTCh’uh!” 

“One–” 

As the cheers begin to erupt, Tim ducks into the tissues with a scraping, “ehg’TCHhiew!” 

“Happy new years!” 

“yiEShh’iew! etchh’uh! hH’AESHH –oo!” Tim dips into his hands again, managing to sink down against the wall as he lets out a congested blow, ending the fit.

“What a way to ring in the new year,” Comes Sasha’s voice, her form blocking the light from Tim’s eyes as he looks up, fever blurring his vision.

“Shud ub.” 

“Christ Tim, you sound awful,” Jon adds, his form appearing behind Sasha’s. 

“Thagks boss,” Tim retorts, groaning as he notices a third form, Martin’s nervous fidgeting easy to spot even from this angle. Martin remains silent, though his eyes seem to hold more concern than any of them, and… guilt? Or maybe that’s just the delirium. 

Glancing up to meet Sasha’s gaze, Tim offers a weary, “Tibe to go hobe?” 

She nods softly, kneeling to help him to his feet, Martin wordlessly taking his other arm. Jon stands off to the side, hesitating. What for, who knows. All Tim can focus on is one step after the other, just gotta make it home, then he can sleep. For the rest of forever, at this rate. 

As they get to the door, Martin helps wrap the scarf around Tim’s neck, forcing him to lift it from its perch against Sasha’s shoulder. Sasha, for her part, supports his weight with ease, she was always stronger than she looked. 

Martin keeps casting glances towards Tim, obviously fretting over something. Too tired to manage his usual charm, Tim gives Martin the softest look he can manage. “Jusd say id, please. You’re makigg me nervous.”

“I’m so sorry I asked you to come, you’re obviously so unwell, and I know I didn’t really know that at the time, but I should have, or at least texted and checked in, I just… I wanted us all to get along so bad and I thought if you came it would mean more fun because you’re always so lively and good at talking to people and-” 

Tim holds up a hand, eyes glazing over as Martin stops short, breath coming almost as rapidly as Tim’s. After a minute goes by, Martin starts to open his mouth, seeming confused by the interruption, before nearly jumping out of his skin as Tim ducks into his fist. 

“eTCHh’ew! hH’YEAShh –iew! Sorry, I feld those cobigg… waid– hih’ETCHhew! heAYSHh’oo!” Tim ducks down again, Sasha grabbing him tighter to support the harsh shudders as he attempts to keep his balance. 

“Oh bless you,” Martin offers, voice coming out timid. Tim gives him, what he hopes is, a warm smile despite the fever taking hold of the last corners of his mind.

“If I didn’t wanna cobe, I would have stayed hobe. I dod’t blame you.” 

Martin nods silently, a relief seeming to flood his face. Taking his place once more supporting Tim, they move towards the exit. Opening the door, the first wave of cold floods the entryway, and a chill so violent runs through Tim that both Martin and Sasha take a step back to brace him. 

It’s now that Jon speaks up, voice strained with a type of worry Tim hadn’t heard before. “No, we’re absolutely not doing this, I refuse.” 

The trio turn towards him. Though perhaps a more accurate description is that Martin and Sasha turn, Tim simply goes along for the ride. Martin mumbles something about ‘no other choice’, but Sasha asks what Jon’s on about. 

“It’s too cold out there, it’s the middle of the damn night, there’s no way I’m letting him go home like this.” 

“And what do you suggest we do as an alternative? He can’t stay here-” Sasha begins, pausing as Jon turns towards her. 

“Why not? I’m the archivist, this is my archive,” Jon begins, pausing for a moment, before adding, “Well, Elias’s, but I hardly think he’d suggest we send an employee home in this weather while they’re this sick. That’s just bad management, he’ll freeze to death before even reaching the train.” 

As if to confirm this assumption, Tim shudders violently, ducking into his chest with a tired, “hh’eshhew! eTCHh’iew!” followed by a heavy sigh. Martin mumbles something about covering, but quickly silences himself as Tim begins to tremble again. 

Sasha gives Jon a look, seeming to read him for any hints of doubt, perhaps searching for an ulterior motive. After a brief pause, their eyes meeting, she gives a tight nod, approval of some kind. 

“Come on Martin, let’s get him back to that couch, he can sleep there for the night,” Sasha directs, Martin nodding his acceptance. 

Tim manages to catch snippets of the conversation as they get him settled. Jon fetching him a blanket he keeps in his office. Martin providing some more tea. Sasha grabbing tissues and medication for when he wakes up. Something about Jon sleeping in his office so he’s not alone, and Sasha coming in early to help him home. 

With his final bout of consciousness, Tim holds up a hand, the conversation immediately pausing. “Thagk you guys. And… esSHhh’ew! And, I’b sorry.” 

All three stare at him for a minute, before Sasha breaks first. Her laughter fills the silence, Martin joining in soon after, and even Jon letting a few chuckles slip out. When they’ve finally collected themselves, Sasha gives Tim a warm smile. 

“Sleep well, Tim. I’ll come fetch you in the morning.” 

With a content sigh, Tim lets his eyes drift shut again, his consciousness fading to the soft hum of his friends in the background. 

Alright, so maybe coddling isn’t quite so bad after all.

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

everytime you write about gaz i get so lightheaded and blackout 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 like ommmmggggggg he’s sooo fine i need to bite him

i love you, sweet low blood pressure suffering anon.

46 / 1.6k / sequel to "call me bunny, cause i wanna bounce on your lap" with more mean reader <3

...

You must think you can get away with anything just because you’re sitting in Gaz’s passenger seat.

"We've been waiting for, like, twenty minutes,” you tell him, obviously annoyed.

Gaz doesn’t look up from his phone. "If I remember correctly, you were the one who made us late."

"I was getting ready.” You flip the mirror in the passenger-side visor back up, dabbing at your eye makeup with a polished fingernail. “And that means Alex should’ve been waiting by the time we pulled up.”

"You know how he is. Probably offered to help someone else and got roped into ten other things."

You huff, unlatch your seat belt, and prop your feet up on the dashboard. Might as well get comfortable if you’ll be here awhile.

Gaz’s eyes stray from his phone to linger on the strip of bare thigh between your skirt and thigh-high socks. "You look cute today, by the way."

Don’t you know it. You took your time getting ready for this “date.” You’re wearing the skirt he likes, the socks that make you feel confident—you put on fuck-me eyeliner. You dug out the heart choker you don’t even wear out to bars anymore because it makes you feel a little too casually easy.

You wanted to get laid today. But who knows how long it'll be before Alex comes out. And who knows where else he’ll want to go when he finally shows. There’s always something with him. He’s too nice.

⬇ nsfw; semipublic car sex; brat taming undertones

You huff and look down at your phone. Your nails click irritably against the screen.

Gaz sees the little pout trying to form on your lips. He knows what you want, and he certainly intends to give it to you, but there's no harm in making you squirm a little in the meantime. Plus he's enjoying the view. He stretches out in his seat to sit a little straighter and give himself a better angle to eye the hem of your skirt. You don't notice it until he slides his hand over the seat, resting his palm between your skirt and thigh highs.

"You know it drives me crazy when you sit like that." He squeezes. His fingers are warm and calloused. 

You shift, eying his forearm in veiled interest. "I do?"

He knows exactly what you're doing, but it's cute so he'll humor you. "Of course you do. That's why you do it."

"Mm." You sense an opportunity and grab his hand, sliding it higher up your thigh. He leans around the armrest between you two to follow the motion. "You want to get out of here?" you ask.

His eyes drag up the stretch of skin you show him from that angle. He slides his tongue over his bottom lip. "Yeah, I do."

"Then let's--"

"After we get Alex."

You groan and push his hand away. "Just ditch him! Just once. He wouldn't even get mad. He’s too polite."

"I already said we'd pick him up. You’ll just have to wait."

You huff and pull your legs back, tucking them under you. You sink further back into your seat and go back to your phone. You know you're not exactly dating Gaz. You have no claim on his time besides being his one-night-stand-turned-booty-call.

But still. You're giving up a Saturday lunch with your friends for this guy, and here you got all dolled up just to sit in his car. The rejection stings. So does the unwelcome pang of jealousy toward Alex.

This is why you don't text your one night stands back. Gaz just... made you feel good enough to ignore that rule. You’re a horny idiot.

"Come on, love. Don't be like that."

"I'm not being like anything," you mutter.

"You're pouting." He slides his hand to your leg again. "Did you think I’d do whatever you wanted just because you're sitting pretty in my passenger seat?"

You pull your leg away from his hand out of spite. "So what if I did."

"Mm, well, it almost worked." He pushes the armrest up, leaving the middle seat bare. Then he hooks his hand under your knee in one swift motion and tugs you closer to him. You slide onto your hip, thrown off balance, but it just makes it easier for him to pull you in. "Till you started running your mouth."

"You like it," you retort. "Or else you wouldn't carry on with me like this."

Gaz lets go of your knee to push your skirt up higher. Your eyes shoot down to watch him do it.

"Never said I didn't," he says. "You've got a mean mouth when you don't get your way."

You bite your lip, watching his hand slip up between your thighs. His thumb brushes where the edge of your panties would be, if you were wearing any.

He makes a low sound in the back of his throat and locks eyes with you when he realizes you’re not wearing anything else under your skirt. Fuck, you’re nothing but trouble. He watches you as his hand slides higher, making you lean back and spread your legs to make room.

Your breath quickens. His eyes are fixed on you now; he wants you. This is what you wanted, too, sort of. You shift your hips and bite your glossed lip in a way you hope is tempting.

"What's wrong?" he purrs. Damn, he likes it when you fall in line. He might even like it more than when you're mean. It’s hard to choose. He doesn't know whether he wants to fix you or toy with you forever. Even if he had time to actually date you instead of stringing you along before his next deployment. "No bite to your bark now?"

"Nnh..."

A smirk pulls across his smug face. "That's what I thought."

His fingers press against you. There’s no way to play off the way you arch your back and collapse back onto your elbows. You give yourself away too easily. He knows very well that he could’ve had you anytime. He had his teeth in you from the moment you hopped into his car and he flashed you a smile. Even if you weren’t looking at him with half-lidded eyes right now, he can feel how warm and wet you are under your skirt. He forgets why he waited so long to give you what you want.

“Look at that. Already getting all worked up just from some simple touching?”

"Just shut up. But don't stop."

“Ask nicely.” But his hand doesn’t move away, fingers slowly rubbing over your opening in the same gentle up-and-down motion as before.

"Please," you concede. You just don't want him to stop.

He’s enjoying this--watching how quickly you go from cocky to cock-hungry. He likes a challenge, but he likes winning you over even more. So he keeps his fingers stroking up and down between your legs, slow and gentle. “Say it again. Ask for it nice.”

"Please-- please keep going."

“That’s better.” He presses his fingers into you so slowly it’s torturous. You groan, and he shifts closer, pupils dilating. “See, bunny? Being nice isn’t that hard.”

You push yourself up and move your hips in tandem with his hand. You really are like a bunny, moving and bouncing at the slightest provocation. His eyes sharpen and he bites the inside of his cheek when you move to touch yourself, too. The sight of your freshly manicured nails rubbing your own clit pulls more praises from his eager mouth—positive reinforcement—but you're hardly listening, of course. You're too greedy for more of what he's giving you. He just grins and lets you have it, his fingers pushing rougher and faster between your legs.

You gaze up at him with a dazed smile on your face. You look so good like that--completely lost to everything except his touch and his voice.  He likes this more than he should. It’s the way you need him, only him, even in places you shouldn't. Even in public.

He plunges his fingers into you and relishes your delighted cry, rubbing you harder, faster. "Let me see you cum,” he growls.

Before, you might have snapped at him not to rush you. But that thought is distant.

Instead, pleasure wells up in you, shooting up your spine and all the way down your toes. You cry out with abandon, forgetting who might see or hear you in his car as you cum around his fingers. Your body rolls of its own accord, riding him and taking what it needs.

He works you through your orgasm with a sharp grin. He keeps it up until you’re finally done, and he slowly withdraws his hand once you’re coming down. Your legs twitch with pleasurable aftershocks.

"Feeling better? Gonna behave now?"

"Mm... yeah. I guess," you murmur. You're suddenly feeling much too lethargic to cause as many problems as usual.

He chuckles. From feisty to sated on just two fingers. He waits until you’re looking at him to bring those fingers to his mouth and wrap his tongue around them. With you as his audience, he makes a show of licking them clean.

Goosebumps break out over your skin. But you can't suppress a smirk. "God, you're disgusting."

His ego swells as you bite your lip, trying and failing not to let the sight arouse you again. His hand drifts back between your legs just like that, and he rubs over your still-sensitive mound with the back of his knuckles.

“Haven’t had enough?” he asks with faux sympathy, watching your half-lidded eyes trace down the sinews of his arm.

You push against his hand again, and he silently thanks Alex for doing him the favor of always taking so damn long.

...

more Gaz / masterlist

[shaunamilfman]

Me when I see your domestic Shauna hcs and immediately decide I need a Nat version so this is my formal request for some

If you want to ofc no pressure I just love your writing

-📝

Domestic Nat Headcanons

pairing: Nat Scatorccio x Reader note: no crash au. nat in her 20's. idk why i answered this so quick tbh

in my mind, Nat's a bartender. maybe opens her own bar one day in the future so she can get away with giving a few free drinks to people that aren't assholes. she charges the assholes double, of course. 

sleeps till like 2 every day and has black-out curtains over every window in her apartment. if you like natural sunlight, your ass is going to have to go outside. 

if you're asleep by the time she gets home, your ass will be waking up. she never does it on purpose, she just has no idea how loud she really is. humming quietly in the shower after work and not even thinking about the fact that the wall would amplify it. you don't have the heart to tell her to stop. 

on the flip side, she never really gets that annoyed if you wake her up while she's asleep. just rolls her eyes as you get up, and pretends not to be pleased when you kiss her forehead. immediately rolls back over and falls right back asleep. it's almost impressive how quick she is. 

blasts music while she's getting ready, or doing just about anything that allows her too. you're always coming home to her gaming and blasting music on her days off. 

night owl even on her days off, always has been. it's a rare sight to see her up before noon, and it's only if you or one of her friends specifically asked her. leaving the house with her sunglasses on and almost hissing at the sun. 

Nat can't cook for shit except for a few staple foods that she'd eat every meal if you'd let her. she's not necessarily bad at it, she just doesn't really have the patience for it. 

her space constantly looks like a hurricane came through it, but she always miraculously knows where everything is. if you try to organize it for her, she'll be so lost. messes it back up the second your back is turned. 

You constantly catch her in the middle of the night making the weirdest snack combination known to man. If the sight of her eating it doesn't make you want to gag, then she's not doing it right. 

has a half feral cat with some mean ass name like ‘bastard’ or some shit that she leaves food out for. she saved his life when he got stuck and almost starved, and got permanent scars as a thank you. the cat comes and goes as he please, and neither of you are sure how he's getting in or out. 

she always pretends the scars were from something much cooler whenever somebody asks. it's a different story every time. you think she must have a list somewhere she adds to when she gets bored. they're starting to get really creative. 

you witness the cat getting into a nasty street fight with another cat and Nat's just like “hell yeah, go bastard!”

the first time you visited Nat's apartment, the only furniture she had in the living room was a beanbag chair and a TV setup propped up on a box. gallantly offers you the bean bag chair as she eats on the floor cross-legged next to you. 

she insists that she was always going to get more furniture and that it was just temporary, but you're not so sure. the first thing she buys is this beat to shit couch that's somehow the most comfortable thing you've ever sat on. she's so proud of it. 

if you didn't force her to get more, Nat would only own one fork, one spoon, one plate, etc. insists that she can just watch them.

likes going out with your or her friends, but isn't as much of a fan of hosting the events. makes it harder to just leave when she starts getting tired of them. always tried to make you be the bad guy whenever she wants to go. “sorry guys, she's tired.” meanwhile you're wide awake. 

Nat's really good at fixing things, mostly out of necessity. still, if something’s busted, there's a good chance Nat's already on her way to the hardware store to get parts before you've even noticed. she really enjoys the process of fixing shit and ends up getting really into cars because of it. if it wasn't for the hours, she'd consider being a mechanic. 

absolute coffee fiend. you rarely see her without a cup. only drinks it black and will turn her nose up at the sugary stuff. she's not pretentious about it though, it's just how she likes it. 

Nat randomly comes home with little gifts for you, tossing it at you without really acknowledging it. if you press her on it she'll say some shit like “saw it and thought of you.” 

she's not a big fan of surprises. she has a bit of a routine and whenever there's a major interruption to it she gets a little antsy. with the way Nat grew up ,she really appreciates knowing just about how her days going to go before she starts it. 

Nat really enjoys watching movies with you. it doesn't really matter what it is as long as she can just turn her brain off and watch. she likes physical contact, but isn't super big on cuddling per se. the type to lift your legs up into her lap when you're laying across the couch.

[thegettingbyp2]

hii, i have a request for Jess Mariano if you’re still writing for him! could you do one where Jess is in love with reader, but they’re just friends (for now…👀) and reader is doing homework with Jess. he can’t focus though because he’s so in love. just a lot of fluff. no pressure, you don’t have to do this, it was just an idea. thanks! :)

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Jess didn’t need any help with his homework. He was bright, he knew all of the answers pretty much as soon as he looked at the paper. Yet, he never said no when you offered to stop by the diner so you could help each other with your homework. He loved your company, you were his best friend and, you didn’t know it, but he was in love with you too.

The two of you were sitting at the table in front of the long window in the diner, your books scattered around you on a couple of tables as you groaned in frustration. Your hair was piled on your head in a messy bun, secured by a pencil which Jess knew that if he were to pull the pencil away from your head, your hair would fall back down around your shoulders in the way he loved so much.

‘What did you get for the second question?’ you asked, looking up to see Jess staring out the window, his head propped up by his hand. ‘Jess!’ you exclaimed, tapping him with your pen and jolting him out of his thoughts, making you giggle, a sound that made Jess’ heart beat a little faster.

‘What did you say?’ he asked, looking over at you, smiling softly.

‘What did you get for the second question?’ you repeated your earlier question, laughing at the way he gently shook his head before looking down at his own papers.

‘I haven’t got anything,’ he said, looking back up at you before getting up to go and fetch the coffee pot.

‘Well, what about the third one?’ you called across to him.

‘I don’t know, have a look to see what I put,’ he replied as he grabbed a plate and started to load doughnuts onto it before heading back over to you with the doughnuts and coffee pot in his hands.

You reached over and snagged his paper, pulling it over to you so you could read it, both of your eyebrows raising in surprise when you saw that he hadn’t filled any of it in. ‘Why haven’t you written anything?’ you asked as he sat back down, automatically filling your mug before setting the pot down and grabbing himself a doughnut.

‘I’ve not been able to focus,’ he mumbled, looking down, not wanting to meet your gaze.

‘Yeah, what’s with that? For the past couple of weeks you’ve not been focused, Jess. The amount of times I’ve looked over at you in class and you’re in another world. What’s up with you?’

‘Nothing, I’ve just been thinking about other things at the moment, not really left any room in my head for school, you know.’

‘What the hell is that supposed to mean?!’ you exclaimed, putting your pen down and fully turning in your seat to look at him. ‘Jess, every time I see you at the moment, it’s like you’re here but you’re not here, what’s got you so unfocused that you can’t do anything - ’

‘I’m in love with you!’ Jess blurted loudly, making you cut off your sentence. Jess looked up at you and you were surprised when you saw that he was nervous; you never saw Jess nervous. When you didn’t say anything, Jess sighed before continuing. ‘I love you, and that’s not how I wanted to tell you, but I’ve been in love with you pretty much from the moment I met you. I’ve not been focused these past couple weeks because I’ve been trying to work out how I was going to tell you and now it’s - ’

‘Jess,’ you cut in softly and you felt yourself melt when he lifted his eyes to meet yours. ‘Can I say something?’ you asked, inching your chair closer to him and slipping your hand into his.

‘Of course,’ he whispered, his eyes moving from your eyes to your lips as he brought his other hand up to clasp yours so that your hand was firmly encased in both of his.

‘I’m in love with you too,’ you replied, smiling shyly at him. Jess let half a laugh and half a sigh of relief before leaning forward to press his forehead against yours.

‘Thank God.’

[urhoneycombwitch]

like a fern

foreword: this feels super vulnerable to post but maybe that’s the point!!! pls check cw before reading. obviously, non-binary+genderqueer folks existed in the 80’s, but I’m writing from the POV of a reader who does not have the language to describe their dysphoric feelings. proceed with gentleness and take care of yourself. this one’s for the queers <3

cw: AFAB reader with breasts (non-sexual mention), reader is non-binary but doesn’t have the words to self-describe as such, discussions of gender and sexuality, Eddie is also queer, love and understanding from an also-queer partner <3

wc: 1.4k

Indiana summer is in full swing, record-breaking temperatures keeping everyone indoors and away from the punishing sun.

Eddie and you are sprawled on the trailer’s twin mattress, well-used to making the small space fit you both.

He’s flopped on his back, rambling about the woes of trying to align ten different busy schedules for a night of D&D while you half-listen. An ancient box fan leans against his dresser nearby, pointed at the foot of the bed and doing its best to circulate the muggy air.

You’re stretched out on your stomach, arms curled in, hands tucked into the hollows of your shoulders. In order to maximize air flow over warm skin, you’ve stripped down to just a sports bra and cut-off denims, Eddie in similar fashion with just a pair of cotton boxers slung low on his pale hips.

He’s currently cursing capitalism and the jobs that keep his friends too busy for play, a familiar rant that’s less fiery this time around as his voice is muted with heat-sleepiness; dark curls spill around his face and shoulders, fanned out against the pillow behind his head, long lashes sweeping with each blink.

You’ve never known a boy so pretty in all your life. Didn’t even know that boys could be pretty, until you met Eddie.

As he talks, you let your eyes drop from his face to his bare chest, something like envy unfurling as you note the smoothness there, the near-concavity of the space above his ribs.

Not for the first time, you wish you were matching.

There’s a deep pit of yearning that quickly spirals into longing, whenever you think about how Eddie fits into tank tops or goes shirtless with ease- something that has recently taken shape into something less about wanting to be similar to the love of your life, and more like self-applied jealousy.

As if in psychosomatic answer, your breasts begin to squish uncomfortably from lying on your front; when you shift to change the pressure, bare arm unsticking tackily from Eddie’s, he stops mid-ramble to look down the slope of his nose at you.

“Everything okay?” He stretches a ringed pointer finger to coast over the skin of your neck, lightly and soothing. “Sorry it’s like a goddamn oven in here. If I was rich I’d build you an ice house just for sitting in.”

Your eyes flutter at his touch, smile pulling at the corner of your mouth. “Nah. S’okay. It’s not the heat.”

“Then what?” Curiosity piqued, Eddie props himself up on his elbows. The silver chain around his neck slides over his pec; he catches you staring, then gives you a wolfish grin, misinterpreting your look. “Ah. Right. Of course. Feelin’ a little hot and bothered?”

“Only because it’s hot and you’re bothering me,” you snip, squirming uncomfortably again when the band of your sports bra digs in. “I’m fine. It’s nothing. What were you saying about burning the workforce to the ground?”

Eddie’s not so easily dissuaded from the source of your discomfort. Childishly, he pokes at your cheek, emphasizing each demand- “Tell me. Tell me. Tell me. Tell me or I swear to god I’ll start screaming my head off until you spill your guts and Mrs. Trainer will call the cops again and it’ll be a whole thing-”

“Christ, Eddie.” You swat his hand away, and he recedes, triumphant, boring a hole into the side of your head with expectant watching. “Ugh. Fine. It’s-”

Words tangle in a confusing jumble at the forefront of your mind, twisting and warping around each other. Your throat feels dry so you clear it, burrowing the side of your face into the pillow for comfort, brows pinching together as the simplest words of the lot spill from your tongue like a midnight confession.

“I don’t think I’m a girl.”

Your pained expression is obscured by the pillow, so Eddie’s still playful, mattress jiggling as he flops backwards again. “Not a girl, huh? So what are you… man, mollusk, or mammal?”

He quiets when he realizes you’re not laughing. “Hey...”

Since your eyes are still obscured, your sense of hearing and touch fill in the gaps- Eddie looping an arm around your waist, ends of his hair tickling your upper back as he leans in to nose at your ear- “Talk to me. Tell me again, I won’t poke fun. What’s up?”

The tightness in your chest eases some as the steady weight of his arm works as a grounding force, enough to coax part of your face and mouth out from the confines of the pillow to repeat, “I don't think I’m a girl.”

“Okay,” Eddie responds, immediate and caring, thumb stroking soft against your spine. “A boy, then?”

“No.” You mirror Eddie’s earlier movements, propping up to your own elbows, grateful when he doesn’t move his hand from you but still keeping your eyes fixed on the faded floral pattern of the pillowcase. “Not a boy. Something… in between? Or maybe neither…? I dunno yet.”

The more you try to give a name to the feeling, the faster it runs like water through a fist. You’re just about to make another bid to drop the issue when Eddie uses his free hand to snap his fingers, dark brows nearly touching his fringe in an expression of a lightbulb moment.

“Adiantum pedatum.”

This time when you frown, it’s from bewilderment. “…what?”

“Adiantum pedatum,” he says again, fingers trailing mindlessly up the length of your back while he explains. “Well, that’s the scientific name, at least- the five-fingered fern. It’s native to our region, was reading about it in one of Dustin’s nerdy plant books. They reproduce asexually, can’t be labeled as male or female ‘cuz they’re in their own category. Rad, right?”

He’s sparkling with the idea, chocolate eyes lit up the same way you’ve seen after a successful campaign or a band session that ran long with an abundance of artistic flow.

“Kinda like you,” Eddie says, softly, smiling easily up at you. “In your own category. Can’t be contained, sometimes.”

“But-” There’s still a sticky, confusing feeling attached to the idea, one that you’re trying to parse out as your fingers dig into fabric. “What if it wasn’t just some times? What if I felt like this all the time?”

“That’s cool, too,” Eddie affirms. His hand tracks a path from your lower back up to your neck, rings cool against your skin as he swipes a thumb against the apple of your cheek. “Sounds lonely to carry all by yourself, though. I’m glad you told me.”

There hasn’t been any room in your complicated introspection for excitement or joy, thus far, but the way Eddie’s talking about it causes a wave of tension release, of gratefulness, overwhelm in the form of tears pricking at your eyes. “And you don’t think it’s… weird? Like, it doesn’t freak you out knowing I feel this way?”

“Psh.” He rolls his eyes, dismissive, humor leaking back in. “Freak me out? Me? Did you get heatstroke and forget who you’re talkin’ to? I wear your underwear for fun. You call me beautiful and it turns me on. I’m no stranger to the Weird and Devious.”

“Fair point,” you muse, forehead dropping like a magnet to press into Eddie’s shoulder. He wraps you in a brief, sweaty squeeze of a hug before dropping it to let the fan air breeze over the both of you once more.

“You’ll tell me if you don’t like one of my girly nicknames for you, right?’ Eddie asks, contemplative but already returning to that faded, sleepy tone. “Angel and princess and sweetie. That kind of stuff. I’ll have to get more creative but it’s worth it for you.”

“Don’t ever stop calling me angel,” you whisper, breath hushing warm against the curve of his shoulder as you settle into the solid security of his body. “Think I might wilt like a five-fingered plant.”

The width of his palm spans the back of your head as he pets you with the last bit of pre-nap energy he can muster.

“You’re hot like a fern,” he murmurs, with tender finality. “Pretty like the forest.”

[vshthestmpede]

Hi! I was hoping to request something with Vash where he’s in love with the reader but is too afraid to confess until suddenly the reader is badly hurt and Vash is potentially about to lose them forever??? I just love confessions in the middle of some kind of angst 😅 I love your writing so much, keep up the amazing work!

in a moment's notice - vash x reader

wc; 716 warnings; angst, near death experience note; writing this gave me many feelings ;-; posted to ao3 | masterlist

it was all just a freak accident.

a stray bullet, one hell of a mistake.

you were supposed to be hiding, just as you had promised you'd do whenever a fight breaks out. you were supposed to be far away, waiting for vash to come find you when everything died down.

yet there you were, eyes wide as you clutch your stomach and gasp out his name. vash's words get caught in his throat as you drop to your knees, red seeping through your top at an alarming rate. he hurried to your side, laying you down gently as he helped apply pressure to your wound with his hand over yours.

"you — (name), what —" vash couldn't find the words as he looked to meryl desperately.

"vash," you said softly, drawing his gaze back to you. you gave him a soft smile, reaching up and wiping at the hot tears that rolled down his cheeks.

"no, no, no, don't," vash choked out, the hand on your wound shaking as his other hand cradled the back of your head. "y-you're going to be fine, (name). everything's gonna be —" he took a deep breath, " — gonna be fine. just hold on, okay?"

your smile became one of pity, already having accepted your fate. the world around you was silenced, save for vash's quiet sniffling.

"it's not your fault, vash," you murmured, cupping his cheek and rubbing his cheekbone tenderly with your thumb. "i'm sorry i broke our promise."

"stop talking like that," vash begged, pressing his forehead to yours. "please, (name). i — i can't lose you. this life. . . i need you with me. just hold on, we'll get you help."

you sighed at his desperation, his need for optimism trying to shine through despite the dire situation. vash's tears dripped from his face to yours as his body shook with silent sobs.

"vash —"

"please don't go, (name)," vash interrupted. "i love you. i can't imagine going through this life without you. i beg of you, stay with me."

you couldn't tell if it was the blood loss or the confession that was just dropped on you but time seemed to come to a halt. you stared off, completely losing focus. the next thing you know, vash is being pulled off you and you're being carted off somewhere. with your mind reeling, the world around you goes dark.

you come to hours later, finding yourself propped up in a soft bed and surrounded by your friends. meryl and vash both perked up when they noticed you stir, vash at your side in the blink of an eye. you looked up at him with a tired smile, his desperate confession ever present in your mind.

"um." you cleared your throat, looking to meryl, nicholas, and roberto. "can you guys give us a minute, please?"

while nick and roberto nodded and left as soon as you asked, meryl looked between you and vash before her eyebrows shot up and she nodded slowly, following the other two and closing the door behind her.

"i'm so glad you're okay," vash blurted out instantly, kneeling at your bedside. "i was so scared i lost you —"

" — you love me?"

vash stopped, slack jawed and a red tint to his cheeks as he stumbled over his words. he looked sheepish, as if he didn't expect his words to be thrown back at him.

"i — well, i mean," vash mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. "yeah, i'll admit the execution of that confession wasn't my finest work but i meant every word."

you smiled, reaching out and grabbing his hand. you brought his knuckles to your lips and gave a gentle kiss, then turned his hand over and kissed his palm. vash watched you with wide eyes, swallowing loudly as his whole face turned a deep shade of red.

"you've no idea how i've longed to hear those words," you admitted with a grin. "though i would've preferred my near death not to be the reason you confessed, i'm glad to have heard them nonetheless."

vash chuckled nervously, moving his hand up to the back of your neck as he moved closer to you. you could sense the nerves and closed the gap between you two, gripping the collar of his jacket as your lips met.

[rorywritesjunk]

there'll be space for you always in my harmony

Buggy finds out you have a hidden talent. Rating: PG. It's a little fluffy. Warning: None for once. Pining, music, it's a soft fic. A good friend plays the mandolin but I couldn't tell you anything about that instrument so I just had to think of what I've seen her do when she plays. A/N: I had fun writing this. It's borderline a song fic without being a song fic. I wanted a chance to include some of my favorite musicians into this because they are both fantastic musicians. There are 3 songs used in this story, and in order they are "Sailor's Advice" by Alexander James Adams, "The Bow's Turned Back" by Alexander James Adams , and "To My Valentine" by S. J. Tucker, of which the title of this story comes from as well. I wrote it from an Anon's request and hope you like it!

You appreciated the moments when the tent was empty of the crew, the audience, and even the Captain. It was overwhelming at times, sometimes getting to be a bit too much for you when there was so much noise and lights flashing that it was almost hard to concentrate. You were more of a behind the scenes member of the crew, not wanting to be out in the spotlight entertaining people. You were happy to help fix props and costumes than wear them or use them for the crowds.

However, being in the empty tent as night fell was your favorite time. You sat on one of the benches, smiling brightly as you unlocked the case that held one of your few treasures. You didn’t bring it out as often as you would like, not wanting others to see you with it in case they tried to pressure you to use it in front of them. 

Carefully, you pulled the mandolin from its case, admiring the 8 stringed instrument before slinging the strap over your shoulder and strumming a few chords. It just needed a tiny bit of tuning, which was easy enough. You hummed softly, making sure the chords matched the pitch of your voice as you twisted the tuners carefully. It took a few minutes before it was perfect.

Occasionally you’d look up, looking for the shadows of any approaching performer or crew. This was something you wanted to keep secret as long as possible, but you didn’t want to have to hide the mandolin away for very long. It needed to be out, to breathe, and to be played, even if it was just for you. 

You racked your brain for a tune to play. Something fun, easy, with words you didn’t have to think too hard about. When something popped in your head, you grinned and started playing the tune before singing the lyrics softly.

“Many’s the port and many’s the town Many’s a soft place to lay your head down-”

“Hey!”

You froze when you heard your Captain approaching. There was no time to put the instrument away so you sat there, holding it tightly in your hand as your hand froze over the strings. Maybe he wouldn’t realize you were actually playing if you didn’t move.

“Captain?” You replied carefully. “What can I do for you?”

He stood in front of you, arms crossed as he looked from the instrument to your face. He frowned. “Since when can you play?”

Okay, he wasn’t easily fooled. Your shoulders dropped a bit as you started to put it away. “Sorry if I was loud, Captain. I’ll put it away.”

“I didn’t tell you to do that.” He retorted. “I asked how long you’ve been playing for. Why are you holding out on me like that?”

You hesitated as you looked up at him. “I don’t… like playing in front of people. It’s more of a personal hobby than anything, Captain.”

“So?” Buggy plopped himself beside you, looking over the instrument carefully, keeping his hands to himself for now. “Keep playing. I want to hear it, so play for me.”

“B-But-”

“I’m not people, I’m just one person.” He said. “Captain’s orders, keep playing.”

You nodded and started the song up again; Buggy was watching you as you played, but suddenly gestured at you. Aw damn, did he want you to sing too? You hesitated but listened to his silent request. You didn’t want to get reprimanded for denying the Captain’s orders. 

“But finding the right one’s a hard thing to do Chart your course as you may, but you might not pull through-”

Occasionally you’d glance over at him as you sang and played. He wasn’t looking at you as he listened, his head nodding along to the music while tapping his foot to the beat. It was nice seeing the Captain so… relaxed. You were used to seeing an intense, passionate side of him during rehearsals and raids, when he wanted everything to go right. Whenever possible you’d try to give him an encouraging smile whenever he looked your way, but you were certain it didn’t register to him as anything other than friendly.

Honestly you kind of hated yourself for falling in love with your Captain. You had tried to kid yourself that it was a crush, nothing more, but it never went away over the last two years of working for him. And if anyone asked why you felt that way, you wouldn’t know what to say. Then again, is it any of their business?

When you finished the song you reached for the case to put the instrument away but Buggy grabbed your arm. He didn’t say anything, squeezing your arm for a moment before pulling his hand away. You just nodded and started up another tune for him, playing the next one that came to mind.

“When the night turns lonely, I think of you only As I’m rocked on waves of the storm Your arms around me, your charms astound me You kiss is keeping me warm-”

He moved closer to you, your shoulders touching now as he listened. You were questioning why you chose this song. A song about going home to the one you love, the one you spent time away from as you sailed the seas. You used to wonder what that would be like, coming home after time away only to return to the warm arms of your beloved. As you got older, and since joining Buggy’s crew, you stopped wondering. You wanted to be in his arms, no one else's. 

“Keep a light burnin’ I am returnin’ I’ll be home by the three quarter moon- I’ll be in your arms very soon- With every tall wave that we breach I come that much closer to your loving reach-”

You stumbled just a bit over the words to the last verse and chorus, but Buggy didn’t seem to notice or care. You finished the song and looked at him, waiting to see if he wanted another round or if he was done. He was looking at you curiously before his gaze went to your mandolin. Carefully he reached out and touched the strings, letting his fingertips strum over them. The strings hummed, making a noise but no song. 

“Do you know any songs that aren’t about the sea?” He asked quietly. You nodded hastily. “Play one of them for me.”

“O-Okay, Captain.” You really didn’t know what else to do. You were sitting captive with him, indulging in his musical requests, even if they weren’t dirges or loud songs, he still wanted to hear you play. You cleared your throat as you started up the tune. “Um, I still… don’t want to play in front of crowds, Captain.”

“I won’t ask you to do that.” Buggy replied with a shrug as he watched your fingers pick at the chords. “Just play for me.”

Your heart sang and you turned red. You really hoped he didn’t notice that as you started up the lyrics, looking down at your feet as you played.

“from far away I'm coveting your white violet skin and missing the fall of your hair worlds away I'm courting your everything and giving you all that i dare”

He took his Captain’s hat off and removed his bandana; your eyes widened at the sight, missing a few chords as you watched his hair fall down his back and over his shoulders. What was happening? He closed his eyes as he listened, running his fingers through his hair to loosen it up from being bound up under the bandana all day. It was quite a sight to see and damn did you feel lucky to see him actually let his hair down around you.

Without warning he slumped over and rested his head against your shoulder, eyes closing as your fingers picked the chords. You hoped he didn’t hear the hitch in your voice when he let out a sigh, feeling him relax against you. What was happening? You wanted to turn your head to look at him, to see him so relaxed around you, but you didn’t want to disturb him. Maybe he didn’t want you to look, maybe he didn’t even realize what he was doing? Why did you of all people get to be around him right then in a vulnerable state?

“if wishing on stars ever falls out of fashion we'll move to the Pleiades with no backward glance maybe between worlds and blackness I'll get up the nerve to finally ask you to dance”

“You play really well.” Buggy murmured as he got comfortable against you. “I could get used to these private concerts.”

Your cheeks burned and you nodded, stumbling once more over the lyrics as you played for him.  Could you play for him, be at his beck and call when he wanted a tune? All you would ask was to never play in front of others, this was for yourself, but now for him. He was the Captain, though, and you had to obey his commands, so if he asked you to play for a crowd you’d have to listen to him.

“just to say i love you in well-hidden ways that's all any song says, each note when it's played this one's too honest, but you're smiling, i pray. i am wide open, only a little afraid.”

You leaned into him and he tilted his head a bit to look at you. Your face was burning and your palms were sweaty. The song was almost finished. Soon this moment would be over. He’d return to being Captain, you’d return to being just another member of the crew. If you mentioned this moment to anyone it would reveal your hidden talent and what the Captain had asked of you. 

The last of the lyrics were sung, you slowly stopped playing the chords, and you both sat there in silence for a few minutes. Buggy was the first to move, straightening up in his seat as you started to put the instrument away. Without a word, he leaned over to you, and as you turned to face him, you froze when your lips met your Captain’s. It was nice but not what you expected to happen, and when he pulled back you thought you were seeing the stars in his eyes by how they sparkled right then.

“Nothin’ to be afraid about.” He chuckled softly as he touched your cheek. You were glad you put the mandolin away because otherwise it would have slipped from your hands when he kissed you. “Thank you for the concert.”

“Y-You’re welcome.” You stammered out. “Just… just let me know when you want another one.”

“Tomorrow morning after breakfast would be nice.”

[britany1997]

Hey bestieeeee! You know I had to jump on requests again (if you're open to this one, of course)! I would personally love a part 3 to creature comfort. Maybe Dwayne going into Daddy Dom mode for David and the reader for a threesome. No pressure, I just really loved that fic and part 2 of it 🥰

Supersymmetry

Omg of course friend!! Happy to write this for you! I’m glad you love this series🥰 in keeping with my trend of naming fics in this series after Arcade Fire songs, this is my absolute favorite AF song:) This and Everything Now are hardcore smut PLEASE READ ALL THE WARNINGS

Creature comfort, Everything Now

Dwayne x GN Reader x David (Poly lost boys)

Warnings: SMUT minors DNI, Dom Dwayne, Switch David, Sub Reader, Daddy Kink (Dwayne is daddy always), a little bit of brattaming, BDSMish dynamics, bondage, penetration (reader’s sex not mentioned), riding, spit roasting, blow job, spitting, aftercare cuddles🥺 I think that’s everything

🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇

Dwayne laid David on his bed softly, “one more thing before we start,” Dwayne said with a sly look on his face “Who’s your daddy.”

David propped himself up on his elbow, before grabbing the back of Dwayne’s neck and pulling him in for a kiss. “You are.”

Dwayne smirked, “and don’t you ever forget it.”

You had been approaching the doorway of Dwayne’s alcove in the cave when you overheard the boys talking.

You gasped as you creeped around to stand next to the entrance, careful not to set off either David or Dwayne’s vampire senses.

You peeked carefully into Dwayne’s room, only to be met with his eyes staring into yours. “Hi,” he said casually.

You jumped back, clutching your chest in shock.

“You’re not as quiet as you think you are,” he chuckled softly.

“Apparently,” you rolled your eyes before smiling sheepishly, “can I join?” You asked.

Dwayne crossed his arms and looked you up and down, “you got thrown from a bike tonight,” he reminded you, “sure you’re up for this?”

Your smile morphed into a pout as you stepped closer to him, “but daddy, I want you,” you purred.

He growled, “baby I always want you, I just want to make sure your ok. Are you sure you want to play rough tonight?”

You offered him a reassuring grin, “I’m ok Dwayne, really, I would tell you if I couldn’t take it,” you leaned forward to kiss his cheek, “I want you to go full daddy on me, c’mon don’t you wanna teach me a lesson or something?” you teased.

Dwayne raised an eyebrow, “what do you say when you need to stop?” He asked seriously.

“Bats,” you responded.

“That’s right baby,” he caressed your cheek gently, “don’t be afraid to use it if it gets too much yeah?”

“Yes daddy,” you winked.

Dwayne smiled as he threw you over his shoulder before laying you in his bed next to David, whose eyes were still glazed over.

“You wanna watch first or you wanna play first baby?” Dwayne asked.

You pretended to contemplate his question, “isn’t Davey still in trouble? Shouldn’t he watch first,” you reminded Dwayne innocently.

David growled at you. You stuck your tongue out at him.

Dwayne took your jaw in his hand and turned your face towards him, his eyebrow raised. “Bratting around already? Keep it up and it’ll be a long night for you,” he warned.

“God I hope so daddy,” you replied.

His persona slipped as his lips turned up in a prideful smile. He pressed a kiss to your lips before moving to David.

Dwayne grabbed the belt he’d used to leash David and folded it into a pair of makeshift handcuffs. “Wrists,” he commanded David.

David, having fully regained his wits, raised an eyebrow at Dwayne’s creation as he crossed his arms, “yeah, fat chance,” David scoffed.

Dwayne kneeled on the bed between David’s legs and grabbed his jaw, holding his mouth open. Dwayne spit directly into David’s mouth.

David pulled back gasping but swallowed. Your jaw dropped.

Dwayne tsked, “thought you were gonna be a good boy Davey,” he sighed, “if not that’s fine, I have no problem disciplining you again, but if you want a chance to cum tonight you’re gonna be good for daddy ok?”

David’s defiant expression shifted, “yes daddy,” he replied as he held his wrists out to Dwayne.

Dwayne slipped the make shift cuffs around David’s wrists and fastened them tightly. He pulled on the tail of the belt, leading David to a chair in the corner.

As you watched him sit you could tell David was not happy about having to watch Dwayne wreck you first.

Dwayne strode back over to where you were kneeling on the bed, “I can still be gentle if you want baby just say the word,” he offered as he stroked your cheek lovingly, “it’s been a long night, you don’t have to do this for me.”

You rolled your eyes, Dwayne was sweet but he was starting to get on your nerves, “I don’t want gentle Dwayne, I want my daddy please” you clarified impatiently, “if I need to stop I’ll tell you, promise,” you kissed his nose.

He smiled, and leaned in to press his lips to yours, “ok baby,” he said as he began to undress you and himself, “you wanna ride daddy then?”

“Yes please,” you sighed wistfully as he manhandled you till you were hovering over him.

You reached down to place your thumb on the tip of his cock and give it a few gentle strokes.

Dwayne squeezed your thigh while looking at you sternly, “did I give you permission to use your hands?”

Your face flushed red and you sputtered, “I- I’m sorry daddy, I just wanted you to feel good” you pouted.

Dwayne reached over to his bedside table to rummage through the drawer, you still hovering above him. “I know baby, that’s why I’m not going to punish you,” he pulled out a pair of cuffs, “but we are gonna have to do something about your greedy little hands.” He clipped the cuffs in place, restraining your hands behind your back.

You pouted.

Dwayne raised an eyebrow, “what do you say?”

“Thank you daddy,” you told him as he took your hips in his hands and lowered you onto his cock.

You gasped as he pushed into you with slow and gentle strokes, allowing you to get used to him.

No matter how rough he got, he always started slow, his massive size splitting you open every time.

You placed your hands on his shoulders and leaned forward as he began to speed up, pulling moan after moan from your lips.

“So good for me baby, not an ounce of brat in you when I take you like this huh?” Dwayne whispered into your ear as he wrecked you.

David struggled against his restraints, forgotten in the corner and dying to get a taste of you as well.

Dwayne smirked as he heard movement coming from the chair he’d left his other lover tied up in. His lips ghosted against the shell of your ear as he thrust into you mercilessly, “let Davey watch you come undone on daddy’s cock,” he whispered as he stroked you, “can you cum for daddy?”

His words sent you over the edge as you let out one final moan, releasing all over him.

Dwayne kissed your forehead as you struggled to catch your breath, his length still inside you.

He brushed sweat covered hair back from your face as he maneuvered you gently till you were laying on the bed. He stroked your cheek as he looked over at David, who was straining in his boxers and biting his lip, makeshift cuffs still fastened around his wrists. Dwayne turned back to you, “you think David’s earned some time with you baby?”

You looked over at David whose eyes pleaded with you. You smiled, “yes daddy, I can keep going.” Dwayne returned your smile before moving in front of David, who looked like his fangs were going to sink directly into his lip and split it open.

Dwayne pulled off the belt cuffs and bent down to whisper in David’s ear, “don’t think this means you don’t have to listen, I won’t hesitate to spank you in front of them.” David gulped and nodded.

“Good,” Dwayne jerked his head in your direction, “don’t keep them waiting.”

David rushed over you and you sat up to greet him. He placed his hand on the back of your head and pulled you into a passionate kiss. As you returned his kiss, he reached around to take off your cuffs. “Want you to use these hands baby,” he purred as he rubbed his fingers in circles around your hips.

Dwayne leaned against the wall and watched with arms crossed.

David nosed at the pulse point on your neck, making you shudder. He chuckled softly to himself, “not gonna drink, just like the way you smell,” you sighed happily at his words.

He pulled back to stroke your face softly, “do you want just me or both of us?” David asked, still rubbing your hips.

“Both please,” you begged.

David smiled before looking to Dwayne as he pushed off the wall and walked over. “Please what?” David asked.

You bit your lip, “please sir.”

He kissed your forehead, “good baby.”

David turned to Dwayne, “can I take their mouth?” he asked.

Dwayne nodded, “go ahead.”

David took himself in his hands as you got on your hands and knees in front of him, “I got it,” you told him as you wrapped your hand around him and stroked gently.

You licked the tip of his cock causing a groan to fall from his lips. His fingers threaded through your hair as he pulled you forward impatiently.

You laughed as you took him into your mouth and began to suck, hollowing out your cheeks as moans fell from his lips.

You felt Dwayne pull your thighs back towards him from the other side of the bed, “ready baby?” He asked as he grazed his hands over your ass.

“Mhmm,” you hummed, your mouth full of David.

Dwayne pushed into you slowly, inching you further onto David as a result. The three of you let out a collective moan.

You rubbed your tongue along the underside of David’s cock as Dwayne fell into a rhythm behind you.

Every thrust sent David deeper down your throat.

David’s hands flew to the back of his head as his face twisted in pleasure while you moaned around him.

They were both so big and you felt so full. If you didn’t know any better you’d swear their tips were touching inside you.

As you felt your orgasm building you began to whimper. David looked to Dwayne, “shit me too,” he groaned, “can we cum daddy?” David asked.

Dwayne moaned, “yes baby, go ahead.”

Your orgasm washed over you as David came down your throat.

Dwayne thrust into you once more triggering his own orgasm and filling you completely.

David pulled himself from your mouth gently and collapsed on the bed.

Dwayne pulled out as well and placed you in his lap. He kissed your neck and held you tightly against his chest.

He stroked David’s hair with the hand not wrapped around your waist.

Dwayne nibbled your earlobe, “did you have fun?” he asked.

You smiled, “of course, as always.”

David propped himself up on his elbows, “I’m sorry I yelled in front of you baby, I was too harsh with Paul and I didn’t mean to scare you.”

You leaned over to kiss his cheek before Dwayne pulled you back into his arms, “it’s ok,” you assured him, “I know you just did it because you were worried about me and I know you won’t do it again.”

David smiled, “thank you baby.”

“I love you, all of you,” you promised them.

Dwayne tightened his embrace, “we love you too.” he replied as he peppered soft kisses all along your neck and shoulder.

🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇

Taglist❤️:

@misslavenderlady @pixielostboy @ghoulgeousimmaculate @6lostgirl6 @solobagginses @anna1306 @its-freaking-bats @riz-coolgirl @feardot-com @warrior-616 @sidefanficaccounttohidemyshame @flower-crowned-lady @bloodywickedvamp @dwaynesluscioushair @dwayxluvs @consuming-karma @vampirefilmlover @lostboys1987girl @cherryfrostbites

[tierra-paldeana]

Geeta had always been Rika’s friend since the day they met. Their bond was so strong that they told each other everything including Rika’s troubled past in the pond. But some days where harder for Geeta than others, she never knew how to handle their friendship especially in their adult years when it was made off a lie, she couldn’t tell Rika that she was bribed by the teachers and parents to be her friend to calm down the wild student and who else to do that than the smartest student in school? The plan was simple Geeta would be her friend for a year and from her Rika would branch out and make friends with other people and then she’d pull away but it never worked. They stuck together. That made the conversation Rika overheard ten times worse. 

Rika decided to head to the Medali gym to get some food and watch Larry fight trainers to see any note worthy ones she might face soon. Her booth was empty except for her and a few empty plates of food that’s when she heard the voice of one of her favorite people on the booth behind her. Geeta was here with someone else, she didn’t even notice her arrival. But something was off. The other person was comforting her? Why? Is she okay? Then she caught the reason why Geeta was being comforted “It’s been years Ge. You’ve gotta tell her it’s already been driving you crazy since graduation.” The other person said “I can’t just do that. The situation is more delicate than you think.” Geeta repeated for what felt like the hundredth time.

 “Just tell her about the parents and teachers she might understand. You can’t keep holding it in.”

“What if I lose her? What if she hates me and never wants to see me again?”

“That was the plan wasn’t it? Be her friend for a year then ditch her. For Arceus’s sake Rika has feral episodes you said it yourself. Didn’t she stop the whole Elite four process for a week after her most recent episodes?”

“Look I’ll think about it.”

“You’ve already said that a million times.”

On anon, pretend to be one of my muse's loved ones, but try to be as heartbreaking and anger-inducing as possible!

// i know i'm supposed to reply to this in-character, but instead i wanted to praise this anon for writing something that took so much of this blog into consideration agahgshdgs i really appreciate it-

the only criticism i can give is the fact that geeta's choice to help her when they were teens came out of a mixture of the teachers asking her to and her own volition. she could've declined to do so at any moment, and there wasn't really a set minimum time she was supposed to stay with her- something i like to drive home when it comes to this blog is that geeta's decision to help her in general was selfless, and something she decided to endeavour into all on her own.

of course, the academy saw her as fitting for the job of convincing her to come since she was a top student, but ultimately the decision to go with geeta was rika's, as while geeta would sometimes suggest and ask her about school, she never really pressured her into joining. geeta protected her and saved her life, and it was from that point on that rika decided that's where she wanted to be, by her side - the side of the one person that cared about her and wanted her to be happy and safe.

all of this ultimately leads into what i intent to get across with my version of rika's story: geeta helped her in a selfless manner, something she was never required to do but she did it anyway because she's empathetic with those who struggle, and this led to a friendship that stays strong to this day. she's always been understanding and patient with rika, even during her feral episodes, and is never annoyed with her 'flaws', as she fully knows and understands her past and everything that makes her up as a person, since she's practically the only one who knows every detail about it.

still, this was brilliantly written, and it made my heart hurt, so props to you anon ;;;;;; it also makes me warm and fuzzy inside when someone takes everything i've established here into consideration asgdhghgfs

[sytokun]

Introducing my super cool RWBY rewrite that is definitely better than literally anything

Hey guys, this is my RWBY fanfiction universe. All ideas are mine, I just think... I dunno, RWBY kinda sucks so I'm making my own, better version. I'll call it... RWBY: Rescued or some other vaguely pretentious title, idk. Hey, John and Jane RWBYson! Thanks for subscribing to my project! Or anonymously stalking it? It's hard to tell sometimes.

Now I know I already introduced Team RWBY, and everyone loves them, I'm happy! I'm just gonna add a little dude here, no it's fine! He's like a side character, nothing more. Like an ally, Ruby's first friend, he leads the other team, it'll be really cool I promise. His name is Jaune btw, no, NO big deal. Just trust me on this. I'm the superior writer, remember?

...

Um... sorry guys. Over the weekend I just got a really big spark of inspiration, like... the Muses struck me from the heavens above. So I'm sorry, but... I'm going to make a quarter of the first Volume entirely focused on Jaune, the Volume that is crucially formative to the cast and entire series, which will cause a ripple effect so bad that a consistently large number of fans dislike him in my series 10 years later, but also find it hard to imagine the story without him at this point, like a lukewarm relationship you don't know how to feel about.

But it's fine! The show is still called RWBY and I plan to deliver on that, not like those hacks at Rooster Teeth stepping on Monty's vision. That's the rhetoric I'm supposed to use, right? To make you hate me? To make me into an easy strawman to hate and dismiss? GOT IT, just making sure, lol

I'm going to voice act as him too, btw. No big deal, I'm sure this won't affect my treatment of him whatsoever. Oh, but here's Neptune. He's voiced by the other dude writing this, and we're gonna write a love triangle between the characters we voice and Weiss, one of the main leads. That counts as a character arc for her, right? Right, glad you understand. Oh, Neptune? You actually liked him and wanted him around? What are you, fucking sexist? God. Make sure to tell your friends how cool my story is

Next, I'm going to have Pyrrha's entire screentime devoted around Jaune, and even after she dies, only Jaune is allowed to process his emotions regarding her death while Ren, an Asian dude, and Nora, another girl, prop him up. I'm also going to bring her death up every two years like 2-3 times to really milk that man pain. What does Ruby the main character feel about this? Oh don't worry, she'll talk about it with another character I'll add in. I'll even have her say Keep Moving Forward™ to really sell the audience's Ruby's pain and really stoke and stir your anguish. Her anguish. Moving on.

Eh, something feels off, there's not enough conflict... Let's have Cinder run Weiss through with a spear, for funsies ig, because I have this post-it note on my monitor saying Jaune's Semblance and this is the perfect moment. I'm also gonna give Jaune this whole ass emotional outburst, 1-on-1 fight and confrontation with Cinder since she killed Pyrrha and awakened all his angst.

Ruby? Uh... yeah, she can stand there I guess. I need to remind the goddamn audience that YES, I still remember silver eyes exist, gawd. I have to do it every few Volumes or I can sometimes forget the protagonist in my female-led story exists - man what a pain, I bet I'm gonna be pressured into creating an old lady to teach her or some shit in the Volume right after this one. Whatever, I'll have her disappear in 2 years, they'll never know she left. Anyway OOPS Emerald knocked Ruby out, thank god she's out of the way so I can squeeze in a shot of Cinder stepping on Jaune and really rub that pain in. God, Jaune really needed this, so glad I did that

Fuck it, Jaune kills Penny too. I dunno, it just feels right, y'know? Nah... I don't think Ruby or anyone is the right person for this, and I don't think we've really, one hundred percent explored just how deeply Jaune can angst over dead women; women who could have grown into full, complex people with rich arcs and relationships using all the screentime I parasitically extracted from them via sudden, unwarranted death. Penny, like, she really needs to fuckin' die for this. Her death is worth having to retread this same tired fucking emotional arc if it's for my boy, know what I'm sayin'? Good, glad you understand

Alright, it's the Volume finale. Team RWBY and Neo are falling into the next story arc. Great, people really wanted this - an entire Volume just focused on the title characters together. The fans have been on my ass asking for this since Volume fucking Four. It's alright, I GOT THIS. I FUCKING GOT THIS! It's simple! This is perfect. But... I mean, I shouldn't... but I really... SDGDSGDED FUCK IT, fuck you, Jaune falls in with them too

John and Jane RWBYson: "God, this is why I hate rewriters who think they can write a good story with RWBY. They love making white men the focus of their self insert fantasies while shoving female characters into the fridge and off to the side, all while using Monty's name to rile people into brainlessly supporting it. I hope they fucking disappear"

Wait. John. Jane. Did I say my RWBY fanfiction universe?

Oh. Oh god.

[imanes]

Dear Imane, hi! I would like to ask how you stay afloat in times of stress? I was invited to be a part of a research team in (redacted) late last year and we’ll be here until October this year. What started out as a dream job is now… well… the stakes are higher, there is little to no room for errors bc things can’t be easily fixed as we go further into the project. I am also stationed with two other nationalities we have nothing much in common but it’s my only form of socialisation for now bc we are located in (redacted) where only planes come like twice a week for supplies. Now I know all I have to do is hang on til October and I’m not a girl who breaks easy, but this is taking YEARS off my life. Constantly worrying about something going wrong and not so much other forms of recreation bc of where we are situated. Girl HELP 😫

hi angel! first off i'm so sorry you're experiencing so much stress at the moment :( this sounds like a really extreme situation like complete isolation for months at a time... i have a lot of admiration for your strength!!

i can't tell you what i do to relieve stress in my normal life bc the difference of context is too wide but if i were in your shoes i'd definitely rely on alternate modes of communication, i.e., talk to friends and family and just people in general online. like it might seem out of pocket but to channel some of that stress i feel like i'd try to learn chess in order to set my mind on something completely different and rather consuming brain-power wise (the learning of a new skill) and play online with other beginners. it doesn't have to be chess it can be digital painting, writing, ... something that makes sense to you and that takes your mind off of how much pressure you are under due to the nature of your project. i don't know how stable or sporadic your access to internet is but make the most of it as a communication tool!

there are also live reading sprints on youtube all the time, like you can read a book collectively (not the book itself but the time spent) and then have 15 min breaks to talk to one another in the chat. when I'm under a lot of stress and i don't have the intellectual capacity to actually read a story i usually turn to mangas and webtoons. check out what's popular on mangadex and give it a try! the perfect distraction for brain-fried people

another thing i'd do is HIIT training or something intense like that (basically not yoga) like whatever i have bad knees but i need the post-workout boost of endorphins MORE

and honestly when it gets stressful you can treat my inbox as your brain dump! i won't publish the messages if you don't want an answer but if you need to talk shit about your coworkers and detail the ways in which you're losing years of your life know that I'll read your messages and that basically there's another person who cares on the other side of the line

you got this!! do check in regardless of whether or not you actually want to talk to me ajdlfg I'm invested in your continuous well-being now. and sorry for the lousy answers honestly i wouldn't know how to cope under your circumstances either so props to you

[dracwife]

oooh oooooooohhh u wanna write 5 or 6 for ncis man so bad ooooooh (this ask was sponsored by mcgee) (ALSO ZERO PRESSURE ILY /P)

i do i really do i so do 😔 (ILY2!!!! ty for the ask im kissing u on the mouth nohomo)

5. by the fireplace. & 6. a kiss at midnight.

"This would all go much faster if you helped, you know."

"Papercuts are not my friend. Besides, last time I tried you banned me from doing anything except holding the tape, remember?"

Mickey sits legs crossed on the ground, Tim laying next to him propped up on one hand, the other scratching just behind Dina's ear, who took her spot cuddled next to him on the den's floor.

And while Tim was distracting their dog, Mickey was wrapping gifts. His phone buzzed a few feet away.

"Check that for me?" Mickey leaned down; He didn't particularly care for the holidays, but wrapping was one of the few areas he took great pride in participating in; Every gift was wrapped with precision, every crease narrow and every corner perfect. It was that inner scientist that made him, he thinks.

"It's Abby," Tim's voice was low, on account of him doing his best to not wake the oversized puppy next to him, "She says she'll be over an hour early the day of to help finish setting up."

"Perfect. Tell her she's a lifesaver."

"...Are you sure this is a good idea? I mean, it's a lot to put on a dinner for so many people. It could be just us, if you want, and --"

"Timmy, is that jealously I hear?"

"No -- No! Not...It's just, I know you don't care much for Christmas anyways," his voice trails off, he can feel his face burning with embarrassment, and he suddenly becomes very interested in the dark spots of fur on Dina's ears.

"You sure you don't want me all to yourself on Christmas morning?"

"I do, I just," Tim pauses, stutters, he realizes how what he's just said sounds, and swears if the light from that electric fireplace heater in Mickey's living room hadn't already casted a reddish glow across the room he fears what his boyfriend might have thought -- at the same time, he can hear Mickey's voice now, 'You're too cute when you blush,' in an all too familiar tone, considering the amount of times he's heard just that phrase alone before...

"Christmas is supposed to be spent with your family. And the team is my family."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean for it to sound like that."

"I know," Mickey slides the now wrapped gift towards the growing pile under the tree they've set up a few feet away. Something about it makes his heart beat a little faster, and a smile to grow across his face. He never had a Christmas like this to look forward to, one with the people he cared about, with the person he loved the most. He couldn't help but get excited, to go all out despite his many admittances in the previous years that he hated nothing more than the whole winter festivity season, "But it's our first Christmas together. Like, together together."

"I hope it's everything you want it to be."

Mickey looks over. He looks over at the way Tim's laid so comfortably next to him, even on the hardwood floor. The way he's so distracted by Dina, who's awake now and trying so desperately to catch Tim's hand as he ruffles her fur and grins. The way he still wears that blush that Mickey knows had his shoulders and chest as red as that poinsettia on the coffee table, and chuckles. Everything seemed to fall in place this year for him, for once he felt as if everything would be okay. Like it was worth the effort.

He moves a little closer, leans down and kisses Tim; He smiles into it for a second and breaks away only after he finds the words to say.

"I know it will be."

[luveline]

After reading your fic with the “you’re cheating on me prank” with James I was thinking how he would react with the “I think you could’ve been nicer to me today” prank.

No pressure btw in writing this but I just thought it would be cute <3

tysm for ur request! james being heartbroken at the prospect of hurting your feelings is my fave thing. 1k fem!reader

It starts as most of your bad ideas do — a video on the internet. Sent to you by a friend, the video shows a man being recorded covertly by their partner, a feminine voice in the background that says, “I think you could’ve been nicer to me today.”

The young man turns in confusion. “What?”

“I think you could’ve been nicer to me,” the feminine voice repeats forlornly. 

“What did I do, babe?”

And so on. It’s harmless and looks fun enough, plus the man in the video tries very hard to give the person recording a cuddle, and you like hugs from James. You reckon he’ll give you one pretty quickly. 

Or he might be totally clueless. Either way. 

“Jamie,” you call out softly, stretched out in his bed. 

You're waiting for the water to warm up for a shower, and he’s trying to fit in one last load of laundry before bed. It’s a normal Sunday night. 

He appears, dark eyes wide with enough affection to make you consider cancelling this whole thing and pulling him in for a kiss. You stay strong. 

“What?” he asks when you don’t say anything, hip propped against the doorway, arms crossing over his chest. “The water should be hot now.”

“I have something I want to say.”

He raised his eyebrows amusedly. “By all means, shortcake.”

You feign nervousness, sitting up off of his pillows. 

He straightens in turn. 

“I think you could’ve been nicer to me today,” you say, meeting his eyes. 

His face flickers, expression changed from curious to unhappy. “What?” he asks. 

“I just… I don’t know. I thought you could’ve been nicer.” Your voice trails into a murmur toward the end. It’s hard to sustain your facade when there’s real heartbreak dawning on his pert features. 

James crosses the short distance from the door to his bed, tossing aside a big throw cushion so he can sit by your hip. He offers his hand to you, palm up. 

You take it without thinking. 

His other hand closes around your wrist. He bracelets your forearm and starts to rub warm lines up and down. 

“Explain it to me,” he says. “I’m not disagreeing with you. Tell me what you mean.”

You search your memory for an example. It isn’t easy to find something, so you dramatise. “This morning,” you say slowly, putting the words together just milliseconds before you say them, “when we were getting ready, you didn't say anything about my choices. Usually you have something to say, and you didn't say anything." He'd been half asleep at the time. Poor boy. "And you didn't help me with the dishes earlier, either." That's true. Sorry, Jamie. 

"I'm sorry," he says, and here's where the boyfriend you'd seen on the video starts spouting excuses. James doesn't do any of that, only pulls your arm closer to his chest looking unhappy. "I'll make it up to you, I promise." 

You're quiet. It's hard to know what to say — the prank hadn't come with a script to follow. 

James leaps to fill the gap. "I really loved what you wore today. I love how you dress. And I'm truly sorry about the dishes, you cooked, you shouldn't have had to do them too. I'm so grateful for all the things you do for me, I swear I won't- I don't take them for granted, shortcake." 

"James," you say awkwardly. 

"M'sorry," he says, leaning in to kiss your cheek. 

You steal your arm from his hands and wrap your arms around him before he can move away. He sighs in relief and reciprocates fiercely, his face pushing eagerly into the crook of your neck. 

You have to hype yourself up to say it, worried you've embarrassed him. "James, I'm so sorry-"

"Don't be." His arms tighten around you. 

"No, I'm sorry, I saw this video on my phone and I thought it would be funny but you're being way too nice about it and-" 

He's a smart boy. James pulls his face back from your neck, hands sliding to grip your hips. "What video?" 

"Pass my phone," you say in defeat. 

James' brows start to lift as the video plays. Understanding plays on his lips, and by the end of the video he's suppressing a smile. 

"You're gonna kill me," he says, fixing you with a half-hearted glare. 

You drop the phone and cradle his pretty face. "I know. You were being too gooey, I couldn't make you stop." 

He smiles at you sweetly. Dark brown eyes, brown skin, he's the handsomest guy you've ever met and you're far from immune to his looks. 

"Is that so…" he murmurs. 

You get your hands behind his ears and drag him down for an apology kiss. "Sorry to trick you," you say. 

His laugh is warm against your lips. "Between you and me, I think I'll get over it. Maybe." He works his hand under your t-shirt to squeeze at the soft dough of your hip. His hands move slowly like he's savouring the touch, fingers spreading and then coming together as he sighs into your mouth. You're thinking maybe you've gotten away with it when he pulls back. 

"I'm still sorry for the dishes- for both. I should've told you how nice you looked this morning, and-" 

"Baby," you say, thumb stroking his jaw, "you didn't have to. You wolf-whistled at me when I was coming down the stairs. And you," — you laugh, practically snort — "called me 'hot stuff' in Tesco's." 

"You looked hot." 

"That old woman didn't think so. She looked scandalised." 

"She should be scandalised. The prettiest girl in the world was right there in the biscuit aisle."

You dissolve into lovesick giggles and tug him down with you, happy when he drops his weight into your chest, arms needling under your back. 

"I'm gonna be so nice," he threatens. 

"James." 

"I'm gonna be the nicest. You're gonna be sick of it in no time." 

"M'sorry," you say. 

His stubble scratches your collar bone as he gets comfortable. "I love you. I love you." He kisses your throat. "You're beautiful. And you dress like a fox." 

"A fox," you repeat, near giddy. 

"And you won't be doing dishes again." 

"...Ever?" 

[erin-bo-berin]

ok ok I just randomly had another thought. Reader and Steve have always known they'd have kids eventually, but Steve's been trying to convince her to start trying for ages and she keeps being like yeah soon soon just not yet. so Steve's casually mentioning it the morning of his X birthday as he and reader snuggle in bed, and she's giving him the same old story later later--they've developed this whole routine so it's not a big deal when it happens. he has such baby fever it just comes up at any opportunity these days.

so they have his birthday party with the whole gang. and I don't know how you're going to do this but maybe Robin brings her niece?? and we get to see Steve interact with this little baby and his baby fever is just getting worse. and obviously he's adorable and so good with this baby and doesn't want to give her back.

and after everyone finally leaves the party you have two presents for him. first, some very sexy lingerie (you've never worn anything like this before and Steve is going to have to work very hard not to tear it to shreds when he rips it off of you) and so you're getting busy and you're about to really get into it but you have a second gift for him... you're finally ready to start trying for a baby so you give him something that signifies that. I like the idea of giving him your IUD in a velvet jewelry type box but maybe that's anachronistic? I have no idea I just want him to look up into your eyes and know exactly what that is and be like babe? are you serious?

and then we watch this poor boy lose his fucking mind going to town on you (opportunity for breeding kink but not necessary)

I know you have lots of other fic ideas you're working through Erin. I mostly wrote this bc I thought you might like it--no pressure to actually write it if it's not interesting to you!

ok love you bye 🔥🏀

YES HOLY YES. I love this so much I can’t wait for you to read this. Just IMAGINE the disbelief and happiness!

Yes, I’m using another gif of him shirtless in the upside down. Am I sorry? No.

Birthday Wishes

Steve Harrington x Reader

Warnings: Smut

“Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to yoooouuuu!”

Steve groaned, opening his eyes, seeing you laying next to him, head propped in your hand. You were beaming and singing at the top of your lungs.

“Happy birthday dear Steeeeeve,” you continued.

“You’re a horrible singer, you know,” he mumbled sleepily.

You didn’t let that deter you from finishing the song.

“Haaaaappyyyy birthday toooo youuuu!”

He chuckled, amused by your performance.

“Thank you, baby,” he smiled, kissing your nose.

“Did you like the song?” you beamed.

“Eh. 5 out of 10,” he joked.

You gasped dramatically.

“Five out of ten? You hurt me.”

You knew good and well that you couldn’t carry a tune to save your life, so you didn’t take the teasing to heart.

“The look on your face when you woke up was priceless though. You looked like you were in pain.”

“I was. At least my ears were,” he grinned.

“Asshole,” you laughed, hitting his chest.

He laughed, pulling you closer to him.

“So, are you looking forward to your party today?” you asked, laying your head in the crook of his arm.

“I am,” he said, “I don’t know how I got so lucky to have such great friends and a girlfriend to throw me such an extravagant party.”

“Only for the best birthday boy,” you beamed.

“You know what would really make it the best birthday ever?” he asked, nosing your cheek.

You had an idea where he was going with this and you snickered.

“Hm? What would that be?”

“If you finally agreed to start trying for a baby.”

You felt his pout against your collarbone and you laughed inwardly.

Starting a family was something you and he had discussed many times before. It was something you wanted to, but you’d been putting him off, telling him soon. At first, it was because you wanted to wait a bit, but for last few weeks, it had been for a different purpose.

“Soon,” you promised.

He frowned, though didn’t look upset by your answer, just looked like a puppy trying to convince its owner to drop a piece of meat. He was literally giving you puppy dog eyes.

“You’re going to deny me on my 21st birthday?”

His pout deepened and you couldn’t help the giggle that escaped your lips.

“What’s so funny?” he huffed a laugh, all smiles again.

“You just look so cute when you give me the puppy dog eyes,” you smirked.

“Cute enough for a baby?”

“Ah, nice try,” you grinned, wagging your finger at him, “Someone better be a good boy if he wants his presents later.”

“Like at the party later?” he questioned, brow raised.

“Like in private, later.”

Your smile was devious; his interest was piqued.

“I like the sound of that,” he hummed, leaning in for another kiss.

You stopped him with a hand to his chest.

“You need to get ready for your party, big boy. You can’t be late for your own birthday party.”

He relented, sitting up in bed. He threw you a smirk as he headed to the bathroom.

“Who cares? I’m the man of the hour anyway.”

•

“I don’t know which birthday song was worse, yours or all the kids’ screaming version,” Steve muttered to you, taking a bite of his cake.

“You love them,” you laughed softly.

“I do,” he grinned.

“Look who I brought!” came a singsong voice.

“It’s about time Robin showed up,” Steve rolled his eyes, “Always late for something.”

“This time you’ll be thrilled when you see why,” you said, pointing over his shoulder.

Robin had brought her niece, Anna with her. The little girl was just barely six months old, full of curiosity and spoiled rotten already by her auntie Robin. You and Steve absolutely loved Anna.

“Better go get you some baby cuddles,” you told him, “Before Joyce spots her and hogs her for the rest the afternoon.”

Joyce was so maternal and a great mom to her two boys, Jonathan and Will and her adopted daughter El. She loved deeply and fiercely, willing to go to bat for her kids at any time. She was starting to get anxious for grandkids though and you were positive whenever you and Steve had kids, she was adopting them as her own grandkids.

“Already on my way.”

You laughed, watching Steve make a beeline for Robin, taking Anna in his arms. He smiled at her, talking to her and booping her nose with his finger.

Seeing Steve with the kids and babies especially, did weird things to you. You felt a bit of a longing, wanting that to be your own baby. You felt love, seeing how good he was with them. You felt desire, the desire to want to have his babies.

You took a sip of your drink, eyes still glued to your boyfriend.

All in due time.

•

“I’m not sure who spoils her more, you or me,” Robin watched Steve with a grin.

“Definitely me,” he affirmed with a nod, “But she’s just too sweet not to.”

He pretended his hand was a tickle monster, it attacking her tummy making her squeal with laughter.

“Is that funny, is that funny?” he cooed to her, kissing her head, “Uncle Steve loves to make you laugh.”

“You have such baby fever right now,” Robin shook her head.

He groaned.

“I know. I can’t help it.”

“Y/N still hasn’t changed her mind?”

He frowned, shaking his head no.

“She says she wants to. At least she has before, but she just keeps saying “later” or “soon”. What if she’s changed her mind and doesn’t want kids? Or worse, doesn’t want kids with me?” he frowned, brows furrowing at the thought.

“I think you’re just overthinking it,” she said plainly.

“Why do you say that?”

“One, she’s crazy about you Steve. She loves you so much. I doubt she doesn’t want to have kids with you. Two, it’s a big deal, Steve. It’s a big responsibility and maybe it still scares her. Just give her time. Although,” she smirked, peering over his shoulder, “The smolder of her gaze is enough to set your entire outfit on fire, which I’m sure she’d welcome right about now.”

He turned around, seeing you staring at him. You smiled, waving at him innocently before turning to a conversation Max and Dustin were having.

“What are you talking about?” he asked, bewildered.

Robin was just giving him a knowing smirk.

“Just the way she was staring at you just now, while you’ve been holding Anna? She’s practically screaming “let me have your babies!” Steve.”

“I think you’re exaggerating.”

“And I think you’re blind,” she retorted, “I’m telling you, all you gotta do is seduce her a little cause she looks ready for it.”

“Ugh, ew, Robin. I am not discussing my sex life with you.”

“Thankfully,” she shot back, dryly, “All I’m saying it that you should keep trying. I think you both are going to make great parents.”

Steve smiled, handing Anna the toy that had fallen out of her grasp.

“You think so?”

“I know so.”

•

Before the party wrapped up, you’d excused yourself claiming you had to prepare Steve’s present from you. Technically, you were.

You left specific instructions with Robin to let Steve know where to find you when the last person left. You squirm anxiously when you hear his footsteps coming down the hall.

You sit on the end of the bed, waiting anxiously, chewing on the bottom of your lip.

“Babe?”

“In here,” you called back, sweetly.

The door opened and he froze in the doorway, jaw practically on the floor. You hadn’t done anything like this before, so you were a tad nervous at his silence.

You’d bought a matching lingerie set—rose red. It was a sexy, lacy bra and panties set that you felt extremely self-conscious when you’d slipped it on earlier, but his reaction looked promising.

“Damn,” he breathed, “Happy birthday to me.”

You giggled.

“You like?”

“I love.”

He was already pulling his shirt over his head and it was left on the floor by the time he reached you, hand sliding into your hair, kissing you roughly. You moaned appreciatively as his other hand squeezed your breast through the lacy thing, so thin he could feel your nipple pucker through it.

“I’m gonna…” he managed between kisses, “Rip this…” Another rough kiss. “Fucking outfit off you.”

“Please don’t,” you grinned, tilting your head, eyes closing as his lips feasted on your neck, “It was pricy and I was hoping we might be able to use it again.”

His teeth sank into your neck and you gasped at the sensation, his tongue licking over the bitten area, soothing it.

“Hell yes. You’re never getting rid of this.”

Your laughter turned into moans as his hand dipped into one cup of your bra, fingers pinching at your nipple. The slight pinch sent sparks of electricity straight to your clit that had quickly began throbbing, your need for him multiplying in every passing second.

His mouth was back on yours, as you fell back on the bed, him hovering over you. His knee was situated between your legs and you subconsciously ground against his thigh as his tongue moved with yours.

“So needy already baby?” he whispered, hands gliding over your stomach, hooking it into the waistband of the red, lacy panties then snapping it gently against your skin.

You didn’t care that he’d hardly done anything to you and you were already moaning for him as you answered him.

“Yes,” you groaned, “Need you so bad, birthday boy.”

You bit your lip at the growl came from deep within his chest. His hand rubbed over your now dripping pussy, positive he could feel just how wet you were through the material. Somehow, he also managed to unhook your bra with one hand, nimble fingers hard at work.

You slid the straps down your arms, slowly, seductively as he watched you with desire heavy eyes. You tossed it across the room and he took you in with an approving moan. He was hard and throbbing, you could feel it against your hip.

“Get those off,” you ordered, nodding to his jeans.

“Yes ma’am,” he mumbled, standing up long enough to rid of them, returning to hover over you in just his boxers.

“As much as I love these,” he said, leaning down, his tongue trailing over the skin right above the band of your underwear, “They’re gonna have to go.”

“Unwrap me, big boy,” you taunted.

You pretty sure you heard a tiny rip in the underwear as he practically clawed them off like a wild animal. His finger circled your clit, as he kissed your hip bone tenderly before sucking harshly on the area.

You arched in reaction, nudging him with the side of your knee.

“Steve,” you breathed, “Before I become too far gone. I have one last present for you.”

He looked up at you, heat in his eyes.

“What could be better than this?”

“Just wait. I think you’ll like this.”

You sat up, leaning over to pull open the drawer of the bedside table and pulled out a velvet jewelry box.

“Aw, you got me jewelry? You shouldn’t have,” he quipped sarcastically, sitting back on his ankles.

“Shut it butthead,” you laughed, “It’s what’s inside. Open it.”

You handed it to him and he opened it.

“Um your birth control pills?”

“Look closely,” you murmured, bringing your bottom lip in between your teeth, “I haven’t taken it for the last two weeks.”

His eyes snapped up to yours.

“What are you saying?”

He had an inkling of an idea, but he had to hear it come from your mouth just to be a hundred percent sure.

“I want to have a baby. With you, Steve.”

That was all it took. He disposed of the case on the nightstand, not caring if it made it to the surface or fell to the floor—although it was a thoughtful and a gift he loved, he had more important things to take care of in the moment.

His hands cupped your face as he kissed you hard, passionately, full of the fire and longing and happiness he felt. You were already tugging on his boxers, pushing them down as you kissed him back.

“Let’s put a baby in you,” he growled against your lips.

“Yes sir,” you teased.

The teasing lilt didn’t last long though when he thrusted roughly and deeply into you, making you moan in an unusually wanton way. His mouth found your pulse point, sucking on it. You were sure he could feeling your racing heart beneath his lips.

It’s like you’d unleashed something wild in him tonight as he thrust into you roughly, gripping your hips hard enough to leave bruises on them from his fingers.

His hands snaked under your ass and lifted your hips just enough that with every thrust his pubic bone hit your clit, making you see stars behind your eyes. Your legs were wrapped around his back, hands grabbing his own ass as you tried to push him deeper into you.

It was rough, sweaty and passionate sex. In fact, it was the most intense sex you’d ever had with Steve and it was hot. There was something primal about it as you let your body be completely lost in his, moaning without abandon.

Your moans had become a chorus of Steve, oh god and yes. His usually perfectly swooped hair now fell into his face, giving him a sexy, rugged look, the ecstasy written into every micro expression on his face.

His hips tilted the slightest, hitting a delicate spot so perfectly, it made you arch into him with a whine. Your body was buzzing and you couldn’t get enough of him.

“So good, baby,” he groaned, eyes falling shut, “Gonna fill you up until you’re leaking my cum.”

His words were as good as giving you an electric shock and your pussy clenched around him, your orgasm coming dangerously close to unleashing itself throughout your body.

“Steve,” you whined, chest heaving as you reached between your connected bodies to rub your clit.

With a growl, he knocked your hand away, replacing it with his own. Your mouths met in a sloppy kiss as you both got closer to undeniable bliss.

His mouth attacked your neck, sucking hard enough that you knew there’d be bruises left later. His moans were muffled by your skin, but somehow that made it even better as he worked you until you were trembling.

“Cum for me, baby,” he uttered just as you could no longer hold back.

He was throbbing inside you and the feeling became too much as you squeezed around him again, fireworks going off in your head, whole body arching into him.

You cry was pleasure filled as your fingers and heels of your feet dig hard into his skin, the orgasm powerful and swift as it swept through your body. Within a few more thrusts, he was following you, his eyes squeezed and lips parted in such a beautiful sight.

Your soft moan was met with a kiss as you felt the warmth of his release dripping down your thighs. You loved feeling him cum within you, but it was even more special tonight after your gift.

He thrust a few more times, pushing his cum back inside you and smirked against your lips as you squirmed at the sudden sensitivity.

“Gotta make sure it keeps, babe.”

When he pulled out of you—even as sensitive and sore you were—you missed the fullness, the stretch and kinda immediately wanted him back inside you.

He grabbed a pillow from the head of the bed, sliding it under your hips and elevating your lower half. You watched, amused, even in your half dazed and sated state.

“I read somewhere to keep your legs propped up for at least half an hour after sex if you want to get pregnant,” Steve explained sheepishly.

You grin, obliging him as he settles next to you.

“You know, it’s a lot more fun if we don’t get pregnant right away,” you pointed out.

“Jesus,” he breathed, “You keep doing that to me and I just might die.”

“Well, people always say trying is the fun part,” you smirked.

“I’m definitely not denying it,” he laughed, rubbing a hand over your stomach, pulling you closer for a kiss.

“Thank you for making my birthday wish come true,” he smiled, his forehead resting against your own.

You had a devious smile on your lips as you pulled back so you could look at him more clearly.

“Oh honey, we’re only just beginning the celebration.”

He groaned as he captured your lips with his, once again climbing over you.

The birthday boy was going to be in for a night of celebrating, that’s for sure.

[wonlouvre]

four: awakening

pairing: doctor!mingyu x potter!female reader

genre: fluff, angst, mature 18+

word count: 3.6k+

WARNINGS: age gap (mingyu is 34 while oc is 27), mentions of food & eating, smut (nothing descriptive though), marriage and meeting the parents kind of talk (let me know what i missed please!)

💌: finally, part four. i sincerely apologize for the long wait. a lot has happened over the months that passed, but we are finally here. thank you for patiently waiting. please be mindful that their relationship has taken a leap on this part. i will probably write one more part, then an epilogue. we’re nearing the end :( please enjoy this part and tell me what you think about it! <3

—

You keep thinking about it. The last conversation you had with Mingyu, that is. You know he means well and he’s nothing but a sweetheart about it. He’s not necessarily putting any pressure on your shoulders to give him an answer immediately. But, in the past five months you have known your boyfriend, you know he’s going to want to move forward. Level up. And that’s a really good thing. In fact, you want the same thing. It’s just… you’re not yet ready. 

“What were you going to tell me again?” Seokmin asks, mindlessly flipping through the binder of artists that’s going to participate in one of his upcoming exhibits. 

You swallow the lump at the back of your throat and slowly release a breath. Your eyes look up from the floor and your lips finally answer, “Mingyu wants to introduce me to his parents.”

Seokmin’s hands pauses and by the way his lips purses, you know you got him thinking as well. He closes the thick binder, propping his elbows on top as he clasps his hands together. 

“He did?” He asks, needing some confirmation as if it would do any help. 

Well, Mingyu did not exactly say so, but it was along the lines of, “He said, “My mom would love you.””

“Oh,” Seokmin utters, cheeks blowing like a puffer fish as he nods. “Is there something wrong about that?”

You bite your lip and sigh, defeated. “Nothing at all.” 

“But, there’s something to be afraid of, I guess?” 

Bingo. 

“Y/N,” your friend calls for you and you’re quite aware of what he’s about to say next. “Introducing you to his parents doesn’t immediately translate to getting married in an instant.”

You frustratingly nod. You don’t disagree with him. But, what if you want to marry Mingyu? Isn’t introducing yourself to the rest of his family part of that? And now that your boyfriend seems to be giving you the signs that he wants what you want, why are you afraid? Why are you suddenly stuck and reluctant to move forward just like he does? 

You hear Seokmin finally stand from his desk and make a beeline to where you’re sitting. He exhales a breath as he pinches the bridge of his nose. You’re grateful for him trying to help you in the kindest way possible because he knows what you’ve been through. But at the same time, you’re dreading his next words because no matter how harsh nor kind it will sound, he’s always right.

“Talk to Mingyu,” he says, his tone final.

Your heart beats a hundred times faster at what he just said. 

Seokmin nods firmly as he sees the conflict in your eyes. The conflict in your eyes screaming about the hows and whats. The conflict in your eyes that’s fearing for the worst of them all. The conflict in your eyes that’s begging to not go through the same heartbreak all over again. The conflict in your eyes that’s protecting Mingyu’s heart.

Talk to Mingyu. 

—

Mingyu is simply the happiest man to be with you. Scratch that, he’s simply the happiest man to have met you. Maybe it’s what every person would say if they finally meet the one that they’re more than content with. Or maybe, it’s just him. He really doesn’t know.

That being said, he also just wants things to be simple with you. He trusts that you’re committed to the relationship you have with him. After all, you were the one brave enough to ask him to be his boyfriend. That’s why he’s also brave enough to mention, little by little, his intentions on introducing you to his family that he believes without a doubt would love you. 

It started when he went to your shop after his shift to pick you up. It became a routine for him whenever his schedule is free and even though you have insisted that you could manage to go home by yourself, the stubborn yet caring person in him disagreed. 

You were doing some last minute cleaning as he waited for you to finish. He obediently sat at the counter and just watched you fondly, eyes following your every single move. It wasn’t a moment of realization. It was a gradual thought that smoothly slid inside not only in his head, but in his heart as well. 

Mingyu wants to marry you. 

“My mom would love you.”

He said it, convinced that it’s the best way to start the conversation. To take the first step. Interrupting your quiet hums and busy hands. He said it and you stood up straight, eyes confusedly blinking, lips awkwardly smiling. 

And, he’s regretting it now because your reaction seems indifferent. 

“You two,” Seokmin grimaces as he sees his friend upon his entrance to the quiet coffee shop. “What am I? A friend that’s stuck between a couple that can’t seem to figure their shit out.”

“Hey!” Mingyu whisper shouts. “Who said we can’t figure our shit out?”

Seokmin rolls his eyes and sits on the vacant chair on the other side of the table. He doesn’t go to hospital coffee shops often, not that he has reasons to thankfully. But he must say, it’s fairly cozy. None of that though, he’s here to visit and help his friend who looks like he hasn’t showered or slept for two days. 

“You know what,” Seokmin says, “You’re the one who looks like shit.”

Mingyu almost decks his friend. 

“Alright, alright, geez.” Seokmin raises his hand, finally ready to take his friend’s dilemma seriously. 

“Has Y/N spoken to you yet?” Mingyu asks.

“She has and I won’t tell you anything about it.”

Mingyu groans, but he understands. It’s not like you’re not talking to him. In fact, nothing has really drastically changed in your relationship. You’re not saying anything about it, but he just knows that he put you in an uncomfortable position and he wants to fix it. 

“Don’t worry about it Mingyu,” Seokmin assures him. “Y/N will talk to you about it sooner than you think.”

Mingyu nods, understanding what he’s trying to say. “I just can’t lose her ‘Min.”

“I know and trust me, she doesn’t wanna lose you too.”

Mingyu badly needs to talk to you. 

—

Mingyu finds you sitting in front of your pottery wheel and he’s going to sound annoying, but you honestly take his breath away. Looking so gorgeous in his eyes despite the sweat trickling down your forehead and hair loosely tied to not get in the way. And when you pause what you’re doing to check who has arrived, he swears he could rip his heart out just to give it to you because of how bright your eyes shine upon seeing him. He’s smiling as he drapes his coat on the counter before rolling his sleeves up. 

Meanwhile, your clay stained hands hang in the air as you wait for him to come closer. He does immediately, though and that makes you smile just like him. You stand on your tippy toes to give his lips a sweet peck, a welcome of some sort. 

It’s only a brief yet sweet gesture and Mingyu already feels like he can take on the world.

“I could kiss you longer, but I’m in the middle of something,” you joke, making your boyfriend giggle. His nose nudges against yours, his lips giving yours another smooch. 

You sit back down in front of the wheel without noticing your boyfriend already rolling his sleeves further up to his forearms, getting ready to join you even without the invitation. As you continue what you’re doing, Mingyu is already taking the small stool behind you to sit on. 

“Maybe you should go first–” Your sentence goes unfinished, gasping in surprise at the sudden warmth engulfing your whole body. Mingyu’s lean arms wrap themselves around your waist while his thighs, which are as lean as his arms, settle on each side of yours. 

“Hmm?” He nonchalantly hums, nuzzling his nose on the crook of your neck. “You were saying?”

Your hands remain frozen as your heart pumps blood so fast, you’re sure your face is not the only part of your body that’s warm. 

“Babe?”

You’re not that strong, you realize. 

You take a deep breath and press on the wheel again, acting like you weren’t just about to melt into a puddle. “I was saying, maybe you should go home first. It might take a long time to finish this vase.”

Mingyu audibly whines, you can feel his lips against your skin. “I want to stay with you.”

“What’s gotten you so clingy today?” You tease, leaning slightly back to him, your back meeting his chest. 

“Nothing. Just really want to spend time with you,” he replies, bashful yet honest.

You have thought about it. The last conversation you had with Mingyu about meeting his parents. Again, he didn’t exactly say he wanted to introduce you to them. But, you’re more than aware of how your boyfriend became extra careful around you as if he committed a grave crime after that and you want to ease his mind from worries because he doesn’t deserve to feel insecure about anything at all. 

You have thought about it and, “Then, be useful and help me out with this vase.”

“What?” Mingyu asks, tone so lost and confused. 

Your smile is small and nervous as you continue talking. 

“What design do you think your mother would prefer? Flowers? Animals?”

Mingyu’s arms tenses, but doesn’t let go of you. When he doesn’t answer, he hears you continue still.

“How about colors? White would be good, right? Or would a pop of color be better?”

“Y/N,” Mingyu calls for your attention, voice suddenly stern. 

“Hmm?” Now it’s your turn to hum, bravely tilting your head to the left to meet his eyes. “What do you think?”

Mingyu knows you’re not one to play around his feelings, you having a hatred against such. But, he can’t help but wonder if you’re being serious with him right now because he swears he could go down on one knee and ask your hand for marriage with what you have been saying. 

“Are you saying you want to meet my mom?” Mingyu finally asks, his eyes lovingly gazing on yours. “How about my dad?”

You pause to think, biting your lip along the process. “I could ask Seokmin to find me a painting. You’ve mentioned your dad has a small collection, right?”

Mingyu smiles and leans closer to kiss your lips, but pulls away all too quickly. “I need an answer, babe.”

You smile back and kiss his lips as well. “I’d love to meet your parents, Mingyu.”

“Okay.” Mingyu nods once before kissing you again and this time, he takes it slow. 

He’s aware your neck is craned uncomfortably that’s why he carefully maneuvers your body to face his properly. Although you're still sitting on your stool, his arm is now cradling your back while his free hand caresses your cheek as he kisses you deeply. 

“Mingyu.” You try to pull away, but he’s relentless. “Let me wash up so we could go.”

Again, he’s relentless. Kissing and kissing you, rendering you breathless. You let him be, wrapping your arms around his neck but at the same time making sure you don’t let your hands wander anywhere else on his skin.

Your kisses become fervent under the dim light of the store and it doesn’t fail to cross your mind what if someone suddenly enters. Your store is yet to be closed after all. But, Mingyu’s teeth nipping on your bottom lip hypnotizes you, eliciting a whimper from you. 

Mingyu is no different, groaning at your moans and whines. It’s impossible for his body to not overheat, like it’s about to burst into flames.

“Mingyu,” you call again, leaning back. 

Your boyfriend whines and dives once again. But you move further back. That doesn’t stop him though, trailing kisses from your cheeks to your jawline down to your neck instead. It’s not helping that you can’t touch your boyfriend because of the drying clay on your hands. 

“Okay. I really need to wash up now.”

Mingyu pouts, but stops nonetheless. “Fine. But, be quick.”

You kiss the mole on his nose and nod. “Promise.”

—

The first time you stepped foot inside Mingyu’s apartment, you immediately told him that his taste is sexy. You actually blurted it out, but you needed to keep your dignity intact so you’re going to lie that you described it in a sophisticated manner. But, back to his apartment. He just chuckled embarrassingly at your words, touring you around and telling you the how abouts. 

This time around, nothing is different. You have been to his apartment countless times before, but rarely stayed over. It’s still sexy. He’s still sexy. You can’t help but ogle at him as he places your takeout dinner on the dining table and removes his coat to drape on the chair. 

It’s pretty late in the night and you hate yourself for having an impression that you will sleep over. It’s not that you don’t want to sleep with him. Mingyu’s mattress is the best mattress you have ever slept on. It didn’t take you a while to fall into deep slumber the first time you laid on it. Plus, it’s no secret your boyfriend’s arms are the warmest blanket.

It’s just that there’s something in you, something searingly hot and tense, that makes you believe you’ll do more than sleep tonight.  

“Babe?” Mingyu calls for you and you're snapped out of your trance. “Are you okay?”

You blink away your thoughts and nod. “Yeah. Just… I’m going to wash my hands first then I’ll join you.”

Mingyu smiles, proud that you already know the drill. If he knew what you’re going through at the moment, you think you’ll combust. But, if you only knew what he's going through, it would be a whole different story. 

You’re not the only one with the heart racing and whole body heating up. Mingyu thinks he’s about to lose his mind over the events that occurred at your store earlier. He knows he’s exaggerating when all you said was you wanted to meet his parents. Well, you kissed so that’s an added factor. But, the two of you always kiss! What’s so special about tonight that’s making him all anxious yet excited at the same time?

You return not more than five minutes later and you find Mingyu opening a bottle of wine. He even looks good by just doing such a simple act with his sleeves rolled up to his forearms, a few buttons of his loose. You’re most definitely gone.

You pinch your hip to wake yourself up. Now is really not the time to be hot and bothered. 

“Wine together with tteokbokki and fried chicken?” You ask, finally taking a seat. “Interesting.”

Your boyfriend playfully shrugs his shoulders, pouring you a glass before planting a kiss on the crown of your head. He takes the chair beside you, hands busy opening the containers one by one. 

Dinner is served and the two of you become preoccupied on making sure both of you are eating enough, mindlessly putting food on each other’s plates as you chat. Finally, the tension, although still lingering, relaxes a little. 

“Hey.” Mingyu tugs at your chair, pulling you closer to his side. “About our conversation earlier. I don’t want you to feel pressured into doing anything you don’t want to. I can wait, I promise.”

Your lips grow into a smile and you’re suddenly feeling warm all over again. You place your glass back on the table before gently holding his cheeks with your hands, chin tilting up to press a chaste kiss on the corner of his lips. 

“It’s nothing like that,” you assure him, thumb rubbing soft circles on his cheekbone. “It’s not like I’m introducing myself to them tomorrow. I just wanted you to know that I’m more than happy to meet them someday or… I don’t know. Soon?”

“Okay,” that’s all Mingyu says with an enthralled smile before leaning closer to your face, lips sealing yours with his. Your eyes close in bliss, basking in the feeling you’re sure only Mingyu can ever make you feel. You have figured it out, it’s just that you don’t want to go ahead of yourself.

You’re hoping Mingyu is feeling it too.

You return Mingyu’s kisses softly, but your boyfriend is eager. His kisses grow passionate, almost knocking your chair down with his body wishing to be closer and closer. You gasp, hands pushing at his firm chest to pull away. He’s as surprised as you are, you can’t help but giggle. 

“There’s sauce all over your lips,” you point out, wiping his lips with your thumb. 

What he does next is beyond your imagination. 

Mingyu holds your wrist, preventing you from having your hand back. You look at him confusedly. But when you catch the different glint of his eyes, you’re hypnotized. Once he senses you relax, he kisses your thumb. You swallow the lump at the back of your throat. You’re afraid you just liked what he did. 

Mingyu doesn’t engulf your thumb with his mouth, but his kisses, at least thrice, drops a heated sensation down to your body. 

“Stay over tonight?”

It scares you how quickly you say yes.

–

Mingyu makes you feel small from time to time. You don’t mean this in a bad way, you promise. It’s just that, sometimes, when he gives you all of his attention, you grow bashful. It makes you wonder about what’s so special that he sees in you that he never fails to maintain eye contact, regardless of what you’re doing. 

And tonight, right at this moment, he’s making you feel small over again with added warmth. You swear, your heart has never beat so fast. You keep on swallowing the invisible lump at the back of your throat as you try your best to scoot up on his bed. You're sure your palms are already sweating and it’s not helping that you’re still looking up to Mingyu’s eyes as he joins you. 

Mingyu’s huge hand smooths over from your knee to your thigh, making your breath hitch. He gives you a small smile, kissing your cheek lovingly. 

“We can just go to sleep. I don’t mind,” he says and that catches you in a state of panic. 

“No,” you immediately say. I want this. 

Your boyfriend tried to hold it, but you can see the smirk forming on his lips. “Will you tell me what you want then?”

“I–...” You barely utter, word failing to come out of your mouth. You bite your bottom lip and take a deep breath, closing your eyes. When you open them again, you see the patience evident on Mingyu’s face and that’s more than enough to give you the courage to say what you want. 

“Can you… can you take this off?” You whisper, toying with the collar of his long sleeves. “Please?”

Mingyu chuckles and you almost call him out on it, but he beats your open mouth from saying anything further by kissing you. 

You and Mingyu have had your fair share of intimate moments over the course of your relationship. Hot make out sessions that last who knows how long. Soft touches that are not slow to turn into something heavy, leaving the two of you a hot mess. They are all deeds not out of the ordinary for the two of you. 

Sex, however, is something that the two of you almost touched on. If it wasn’t for Mingyu’s emergency calls or Seokmin cockblocking the two of you, you two would have been far off right now. 

But, that’s the thing. You are here right now on Mingyu’s bed. Mingyu is also here with you right now, lean and strong arms holding his upper body up to not crush yours as he continues kissing you passionately. 

You didn’t even notice his long sleeves getting discarded, left to be on the floor. 

You’re panting when Mingyu pulls away briefly to make you sit up. Embarrassingly enough, your mouth waters at the sight of his toned chest and abdomen, your fingers tracing over them. 

Mingyu smiles, holding your cheeks to gently make you look at him and answer his question. “Can I take this off?”

He’s referring to your blouse and well, if he’s already without a top on, you might as well take yours off. After all, you do want this. 

You nod and that has Mingyu shaking his head. Your eyebrows furrow, knowing what he wants. 

“Take them off, please.”

“Good girl,” Mingyu praises, hands quick to their job. Your pupils blow instantly and before you could react, he’s kissing you again. 

The long night continues without knowing the passing time. It wasn’t your concern if you have to wake up early tomorrow nor was it your boyfriend’s, lips making sure covering every inch of your body with his kisses (of course, with love bites here and there).

You’re no different anyway. Stopping him from taking your pants off and pleading him if you could make him feel good before he takes care of you. Who is Mingyu to deny you? 

Mingyu was a panting mess after you made him cum, but that didn’t stop him from pulling you up and smashing his lips against yours. From then on, he took matters into his own hands, leading you to pleasure that has you writhing all through the night. 

—

tags:

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please do tell me if you’re not listed here! (some urls don’t get tagged and i really don’t know why :( sorry!)

[chiwhorei]

𝐂𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 (𝐑𝐞𝐝 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐝)

𝐚𝐤𝐚: 𝐌𝐲 𝐏𝐑𝐎 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐎 𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐞 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐬 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐬!!

pairing: t. amajiki x fem!reader

genre: smut, 18+ mdni

word count: ~1.3k

tags: pervy!tamaki, mean!tamaki, dubcon, degradation, voyeurism, masturbation, tentacles in all of readers holes, dacryphilia, choking

a/n: this is my very late contribution to the whorehouse porn compilation, the rest of this questionable browser history can be found here! strap in because this might be the grossest shit i’ve written so far. no plot, porn is the point here friends.

(cross posted to Ao3!)

hymn: gooey by the glass animals

The first time was an accident, genuinely.

He meant to text you he would be home early, ever the courteous roommate, but it truly just slipped his mind. Surprise would be an understatement when he swings the front door open to the high pitched whines coming from your bedroom.

Curiosity piquing, Tamaki lines his shoes up by the door and follows the noise. He can see the outline of light seeping through your open door and hears another round of cries. 

“Hey, are you ok--” His words flop lifelessly on the floor in front of him. Oh.

Oh.

His eyes trail up from the end of your bed. The open laptop propped in between your legs, the bottle of lube sitting next to your knee, your bare thighs and--

“Do you like what you see, Suneater?”

Tamaki flushes, heat starting at the bridge of his nose and spreading across every inch of skin. He should really say something, or better yet, close your fucking door and do the rest of his processing on the other side. 

He can’t seem to do anything but stand and stare at the dripping wet toy still being pumping in and out of your cunt. It seems to have completely hypnotized him, watching the way the silicone disappears in between your slick folds, he swears he can see the quiver.

“What do you think about my toy?” Purple and oblong, you pull it all the way out. Tamaki’s stare burns right into the suction cup ridges and slim, curved tip. You drag it in a wet line up your skin, meeting your lips with a pout. 

“I picked this one out with you in mind.”

* * *

First time, shame on you.

That’s what they say, but Tamaki finds himself pressing against your doorframe and peering into your room for the 3rd time this week. His feet pull him here like a nasty habit, the crack in your door is far too welcoming. 

You left it open just for him.

Tamaki’s ears twitch, forehead tacky with sweat as he presses against the frame. Every time he finds himself in this very same position, shame trickles down his spine like poison.

Every inch of your skin is exposed to his stare. Looking upon you is invasive and slimy and wrong but fuck, with every movement of your toy, pumping in tandem with the hand around his painfully hard cock, the more each stolen glance feels intravenous. Tamaki is addicted. 

All he wants to do is touch you. Wrap you in his hold and explore every inch. He wants to know what your skin feels like. 

What does your hair smell like up close? He’s only ever been privy to the occasional carryover of strawberry as you walk by him in the kitchen. How do your moans feel vibrating just above his mouth? Would you cry out for him to stop or to keep going?

He’s never stepped closer than the line between carpet and hardwood, but that's really only a technicality. 

You feel it, foreign but unmistakable. The touch of something crawling up your leg, soft and sticky. It wraps around your leg, crawling upwards in salacious vines. Your voice rings in Tamaki’s ears. He repeats every syllable like prayer, his invitation.

“I picked this one out with you in mind.”

There’s no movement to stop him, you don’t scream or tell him to fuck off. Your body seems to welcome him, back arching as five quirked fingers wrap around your arms and hips. The popping of suction cups trail from your belly button, dragging against your breasts before you feel pressure at your neck. Your skin will be covered in round bruises in the morning. The kindling in Tamaki’s stomach feels more like a wildfire, shy demeanor melting away. The man in front of you isn’t going to waste any more time hesitating.  

“You’re such a little tease. You like fucking with me don’t you, princess?” Tamaki’s question is sneering, his tone cold and unfamiliar.

The tentacle wrapping around your neck squeezes tight enough to make you gasp, he doesn’t waste the opportunity.

He doesn’t really want you to answer him.

As soon as your lips part, your mouth is invaded. The tendril reaches all the way to the back of your throat before it lets up, your jaw already hurting at the stretch. Your vision blurs, the taste of briny-sweet flesh mixes with the salty tears running down your face.

You’re given only a moment to sputter, catching your breath before it’s taken away again, the squeals and cries bubbling in your throat are wasted energy.

“Always leaving your door open, teasing me. I’m not playing your games anymore.” Tamaki’s voice is unwavering, he’s serious.

You wail around the rubbery texture as another tentacle wraps around your breasts, suctioning on the sensitive peaks of your nipples. Tamaki moves closer with each sound he can pull from you, finally breaching the last shreds of privacy and shuffling across the carpet. All five fingers on his right hand are busy probing parts of your pliant body and restraining others. Through the haze you can’t deny how dexterous he is while making a mess of you. 

It would be impressive if you could think straight.

Each arm and leg is caught in the reddish-purple web, writhing against his hold only makes Tamaki’s grip tighter.

“I could do anything to this sweet little body, what could you do to stop me?” His words should scare you, but only one thing runs through your foggy head. 

“Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.”

If you could, the scream pressed against your makeshift gag would definitely alert your neighbors to the depravity just a wall away. You feel attention turning to the toy still plugging your weeping hole, a tentacle wrapping around the base and pulling it free with a squelch. From the corner of your eye, you catch the shiny plastic as it’s thrown to the other side of the room, hitting your wall with a hollow thud.

The tip of one tentacle prods at your clit for good measure before poking inside. Fear runs through your blood, cooling when mixed with overwhelming pleasure. Tamaki can reach places you’ve never felt before.

“So tight, so fucking warm.” Tamaki can feel you with each clench of your pussy, sliding in until he can feel tight band of your cervix. He could ruin you if he wanted, he ventures to guess you would let him.

You’re crying in long, fat streaks around the apples of your cheeks. With the help of another set of weaponized fingers, your legs are spread further and pushed to your chest. Tamaki’s cock aches, now ignored in favor of manipulating your body into a new angle so your ass is propped up. Muscles tense as he swipes the tip of his tentacle to trace around your rigid ring of muscle.

“I’ll take every one of these slutty little holes. You’ll feel me on your skin for days.” He promises you, pushing past your resistant muscles, they’re no match.

Your head is swimming now, logic is replaced with the feeling of being so full.

Stimulation assaults your senses from every direction, Tamaki fucking into your body with fatal rhythm. Going farther, deeper, harder. All you’re left with is shaking limbs and muted whines.

It hurts, it feels so good. It’s so disgusting but so hot. You’re meek, bushy roommate has made you little more than a fucktoy with what seems like minimal effort. You’re hurdled to a sloppy wet orgasm faster than ever before. 

Tamaki can tell that you’re close, studying the way your eyes screw up and brows furrow before falling over the edge for weeks from the comfort of your door jam. The consuming bliss overtakes your body, every muscle tensing, shaking from exhaustion as the cord pulls tight and snaps with fury. If you could, you would scream out the name of your captor, all you can manage a garbled sound from deep in your chest.

The next few moments find you in pieces. The feeling of emptiness knocks at your hypersensitive body as you’re flipped to balance weakly on your hands in knees. You’re not left alone for long, Tamaki’s just getting started.

He’s never been one to play with his food, but you’re just too tasty.

all writing is dymphnasprose’s original content, please do not repost or modify. do no read my content as asmr.©️