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[thegeminisage]

i just read broken road and i enjoyed it immensely. i just see it differently (not exactly negatively) now knowing you once(?) shipped sam and dean. does that have any influence into it🤔 just simply wondering not interrogating u. i’m interested in that essay even

(prev ask)

ok, my essay is under the cut. it's very, very long. everybody please consider this your warning for inc*st ships if you'd rather not get into it

first point: actually, broken road was not in any way secretly influenced by any previous love of sam/dean, if that helps you any. i wrote it in post november 5th mode and you better believe i was not remotely capable of thinking about anything else. thank you for enjoying it! it's very very special to me and the time i spent working on it and posting it are genuinely some of my fondest memories. cringe <3

second point: to just honestly answer your question, since you're not interrogating me and not being an asshole (thank you and i'm not saying that sarcastically, i have gotten sooo many rude asks about this), my answer is, "eh." my favorite was sam/dean/cas (once he started being on the show) because i'm a cas girl first and foremost. and if i come across a fic where the premise looks good i might check it out, but i basically never actively seek it out bc my preference rn is strongly for destiel.

(that said i do like sam and dean's relationship a lot as brothers or as...whatever else, i'm mostly neutral as long as we don't leave cas out of things, AND i'm perpetually bitter about sam getting left out in the cold, so if i wanna read good sam fic, sometimes people who ship him with the other main characters will do a better job than making him the perpetual longsuffering butt of the slash joke. same goes for early seasons spn fic: sometimes the sam/dean writers just do a better job. i very rarely get the hankering though because i like late seasons, such as season 13, who is my best friend. i think sam got pushed to the side SO STRONGLY that sometimes people sometimes subconsciously associate him being written well or mattering at all to dean beyond functioning as dean's accessory and/or proof/the catalyst of dean's traumatic upbringing with w*ncest. because otherwise they see him as a minor character (?!?!), and why are you bringing this minor character up so much if you're not secretly shipping him with dean, The Main Character? god, does anybody remember when SAM was the main character?? sorry there is truly not enough punctuation in this paragraph.)

now for the actual essay: i do get a little irritated/confused with how much pearl-clutching people do about sam/dean. like, this is EASILY the most harmless of the "problematic" ships. they're consenting adults, barring some tropes and genres i would not like to read nor discuss. and before cas came into the scene (and sometimes even after) we got baited just as hard for the two of them. it was weird and unsettling because the nature of inc*st is that it's often weird and unsettling. their dynamic is unhealthy and codependent and that's part of their appeal in whatever form. people who get the heebie jeebies because it's "problematic" are missing the point. there are also weird and unsettling vibes between dean and john, because that was part of the abuse. that actually played into broken road way more than any sam/dean stuff. he was a bad father and he made dean his backup wife and there was probably some emotional inc*st happening CANONICALLY. we all watched that in the show right?? but for some reason talking about that is fine and talking about whatever sam and dean have going on gets you put on block lists. because sometimes sam/dean fics are just for fun and whenever we talk about john we have people in fics punching him out or killing him. like we have to point our fingers at john and go "THAT'S BAD" loudly enough to ensure everyone else that we're above moral criticism. it's like. weirdly thought police-y. (and tbh, that's part of what inspired broken road - i was looking for nuance re: john and couldn't fucking find any because of this weird black-and-white mentality fandom has developed.)

and it's so hypocritical sometimes! i remember deancas stuff used to have "w*ncest fans dni" banners all over it, in the guise of protecting and standing with survivors, but when actual survivors would say things like "actually those banners just remind me of everything all over again" they would mostly get ignored?? it was so performative, like this kneejerk reaction of promising everybody YOU know what's bad so you won't get ostracized. my tastes don't usually run very dark so most of the sam/dean i wrote or read was way less unhealthy than, say, whatever lestat and louis have going on in iwtv. but nobody's making blocklists of iwtv enjoyers because that would be insane? there's just a little bit of cognitive dissonance happening i think.

like, obviously, yes, in real life inc*st pretty much always speaks to something having gone extremely wrong in someone's life and a dynamic being extremely unhealthy at best, but in fiction it is possible for it to be consensual, even if it is a little fucked up or the people involved are a little damaged.

(warning for discussion of rape fic from here down) i'm not actually totally anti-censorship though. i do firmly believe there are some types of fiction people shouldn't write! i wouldn't read parent/child anything, or any kind of rape fic unless it's tastefully engaging with the aftermath of something like that. sam/dean just seems so, so tame to me in comparison to some of the other stuff fandom has come up with. in 2014-2016 people used to write a thing called hydra trash party, which was just porn of bucky barnes being gang-raped by hydra agents. ie nazis. and half the time he was headcanoned as jewish. like??? can you even GET more tasteless than that??? i hated that shit (and i still do, deeply). i talked about how much i hated it all the time and people would come after me like "well who are YOU to censor other people? what if the authors are survivors working through their own trauma? you can't ask authors to disclose that kinda stuff if they want a license to write graphic nazi rape porn!" i got literal hate mail about it. equal but opposite energy of those dni banners - both people claiming it was "about survivors" to justify doing, uh, whatever they wanted. it's just fucking wild to me that in less than a decade my stance of "i don't care what people write if everybody is a CONSENTING ADULT," while not changing at all whatsoever, moved from being too prudish to being too problematic.

another side tangent (sorry, you did ask) is that i was a slash writer on FFN in the video game and anime fandoms during the late 00s (ironically, quite a lot of straight men there) and holy mother of god...the kind of shit comments i would get for putting two dudes kissing in the same fic, even though it was PLASTERED with disclaimers. i felt like the mob was after me sometimes lol. and that's sort of the way i felt once those w*ncest asks started. i remember back in the peak of post nov 5 stuff if i like, reblogged art or gifs from certain blogs people would write in to tell me that person was a sam/dean shipper so i'd take down my (gen, non sam/dean) post. i felt paranoid (and still feel paranoid) reblogging GEN sam & dean content because i'm worried people will take it the wrong way. i actually deleted one from my drafts earlier today - i'd been thinking about it but then i got your ask and decided against it, lol. what a way to live! especially in fandom, which is (and i hate to politicize it this way but it's true) a queer-adjacent space that's supposed to be free of the kind of judgment you'd get for not being a normie irl.

on FFN, one of the many pairings i wrote for actually involved an underaged teenager and and an adult. but as i was the same age as that teenager at the time, and had a crush on that adult character and toootally wanted to marry him, i couldn't see what was wrong with pairing them together. like i quite literally did not know better. it's a pairing that actually disgusts me now, lol. if people now could send me asks about what i did back then to try and "gotcha" me (they can't because it's all been deleted) i'd be really pissed about it, because you can't continue to punish people after they've learned and grown. everyone's been so terribly kind about broken road, and there's this real fear of losing or tainting something so special and wonderful just because people have a problem with the fics you read or wrote a decade ago. it sucks. i do think there's a line (like, maybe don't write nazi rape porn, also whatever was going on with that j2 haiti fic), but i also think we've got to try at least a little not to reinvent puritanism on fandom websites of all places. that's wack.

and man, i know i said it already, but i just keep coming back to w*ncest being SO TAME? like it doesn't compute that someone would get icked out over CONSENSUAL sam/dean and meanwhile ship for example rowena/ketch like he didn't torture her or sam/lucifer because they like mark pellegrino like lucifer isn't sam's fucking rapist. and not even get "in trouble" for it. it boggles the mind.

and like, idk. i initially got my hackles up at your ask because it's 1 of a million, and i could dodge the questions by taking down the one sam/dean/cas fic on my profile ig, but that fic is how i met a good friend of mine and she'd be sad if i were to take it down, so i don't want to have to, and i shouldn't have to. you know??

my final thought: i've been writing fanfic for 20 years. 20 years ago when i started writing fic sam/dean would have been unacceptable because it's two men. 10 years ago it was fine because they were the ONLY two men, and every woman in supernatural got bullied off of the show, and people writing het got hatemail. now it's unacceptable again because of the inc*st. 10 years from now, who knows what will happen? so i try to base my morals on what i feel i can live with as a person rather than what a bunch of people on the internet (i'm not including you in that) tell me what i can or can't do, or should or shouldn't do.

i really hope this answer doesn't like, ruin broken road for you, or anyone else. i don't think of myself As A W*ncest Shipper at all, but neither do i deny that i used to be, and i certainly don't have any problem with (again) keyword CONSENTING keyword ADULTS in fanfic now, even if they do happen to be siblings ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ i just hope that like someday we find a middle ground where we can live and let live but also have enough sense not to write nazi erotica. if that's problematic of me, so be it 😔✊

[starboundsingularities]

good lird they did not make a gimmick blog about a real life murder

#someone fucking DIED but whatever who gives a shit it's funny i guess

7 notes

🥚 eggvidenced Follow

honestly with how suspicious and confusing everything on the dl-6 case was i wouldn't be surprised if it came out that it was that prosecutor guy tbh

🌟 rockliker270 Follow

date posted: june 23, 2010

1,834,853 notes

⚖️ courtofpublicopinions Follow

🌟 rockliker270 Follow

ok hear me out. what abt winston payne though

🧊 just--ice Follow

okay now they're just making lawyers up

#also didn't mvk die or something?

28,932 notes

🔥 triedbyfire Follow

why the fuck are you people still posting about the gavinners as if theyre not copaganda. didn't the guitarist get convicted of murder

🎸 guiltiest-lovers837 Follow

so fucking tired of this "um um didn't daryan get convicted of murder" YEAH AND HE'S LITERALLY NOT IN THE FUCKING BAND ANYMORE. dipshit

🔥 triedbyfire Follow

are you gonna address the copaganda thing or

1,092 notes

🌻 attorneybout Follow

he's so. 😳

📂 trialanderror Follow

why is he defending

📂 trialanderror Follow

OP WHY IS HE DEFENDING???

24,374 notes

🦈 giantlakemonsters Follow

i just wanna hear about another gourdy sighting thats all

🥜 liberdeez Follow

op. i'm so sorry op. gourdy isn't real you have to let her go. they had a whole trial about it.

🔐 wrightorwrong Follow

hi!! so this isn't actually the case as while gourdy was briefly mentioned in a trial, said trial had nothing to do with whether or not gourdy was "real" per se as much as. well. murder, actually. while gourdy WAS found out to be an inflatable steel samurai this was not brought up in the case at all as the veracity of gourdy wasn't really as relevant as the fact that the witness was looking for gourdy rather than at the murder she claimed to have seen. plus this was also a relatively small part of a MUCH larger trial which for those interested not only solved the dl-6 case but ALSO marked the end of prosecutor von karma's ~40 year long record and the court records are really a fascinating read through!!

🦀 mad_libz_87 Follow

net 0 information post

#thanks again lawblr

94,834 notes

🍒 cherriescoola Follow

btw i was at the park the other day and klavier gavin (of gavinners fame) was there and obv there was a huge crowd but this guy was there with him and at some point he (the other guy) waved to the crowd and someone still screamed like it was klavier??? who was that guy ive never seen him before in my life

2,284 notes

🩸 has-dl6-been-solved-yet Follow

December 28, 2016

YES!!!

702,947 notes

🪙 tellerlikeitis Follow

guys help i'm a bank teller and this guy just introduced himself as robin banks what do i do

🔪 violencekilling Follow

you gotta let him rob you that's the law

302,948 notes

👻 ghostesswiththemostest Follow

look if i ever get convicted of murder im just hiring the lawyer with the coolest sounding name

💼 courtofwaw Follow

bestie if you already got convicted it is Too Late

62,193 notes

📋 lawandwhoreder Follow

guys i know it's real fun to think people just can predict whatever but if you look at the earliest reblogs of that post that "guessed" the true killer in the dl-6 case it was actually a post about how they didn't want to go to the store. clearly edited

#stg nobody bothers to factcheck anything anymore

7,293 notes

🐺 lawnewolf Follow

i am NOT homophobic or whatever the fuck you guys are saying now i just think its weird to write fanfiction about realass people?? go touch grass ffs

🌈 lawsbian Follow

the fun police (this guy) putting me in yaoi court but the lawyers (phoenix witrght and miles edgeworth) just keep trying to make out (real court is like this too btw)

🐺 lawnewolf Follow

YOU HAVE SOMETHING WRONG WITH YOU.

#look idc what your enemies to lovers fic bullshit says #they're straight. and more importantly REAL PEOPLE. #there's TENSION because they are in COURT and there are LIVES on the LINE. #not because they wanna fuck. god.

12,293 notes

🔮 inhighspirits Follow

why dont they just ask the spirit mediums to ask the victims who killed them this law shit is easy

837,495 notes

💞 lawveyourself Follow

seriously i cant believe they gave this guy a law degree

💞 lawveyourself Follow

what do you mean evidence fraud

503,893 notes

🎧 instrumentalillness Follow

fuck you *unguilties your love*

384,568 notes

🎀 copiicat Follow

perjury isnt illegal btw in fact if youre one of tge witnesses youre legally required to lie on the stand. thats why everyone does it. trust me

[thewidowsledger]

Gratitude

© thewidowsledger 2024 - DO NOT REPUBLISH AND PLAGIARISE

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader

Word count: 2.3k

Tags | Warnings: +18, AMAB!Natasha, MILF!reader, Natasha is 28 and reader is 36, beefy and nerdy Natasha (she has glasses and is a good cock cook too😩), blowjob (Natasha receiving), mommy kink (?), Natasha calls r 'mama'😩 r came from an abusive relationship before meeting Natasha, r has a son, mentions of cheating, physical abuse, Natasha and r met on a dating app

Author’s Note: I came up to this interview where this artist said, “When I came downstairs and the kitchen is clean and you’ve done it all, all the dishes, you better be ready to get your dick sucked.” And I was like I need to write something out of this, lol enjoy :p Nat + acts of service=😩🤲💗😜🍆 (I'm so nasty, I'm sorry bye)

Navigation | Masterlist

⧗

“Thank you for accepting me.”

Another kiss.

“Thank you for taking care of me.”

Another kiss.

“Now, let mommy show you how grateful she really is.”

⧗

You had always envisioned yourself pursuing law school after graduation, but life had other plans. You unexpectedly became pregnant right after graduating, when you told your boyfriend of 3 years that you were pregnant, he was ecstatic to become a father. However, once your son was born, his true colors showed—he began to lash out at both you and your son and it became a living hell for you. 

He was the main provider when you were pregnant and for the first couple of years after your son's birth, he continued to support you. However, when your son turned 2, he provided less and less for you and your son, and that’s when you started looking for a job again.

You quickly pivoted to finding a job that would allow you to support yourself and your son. Luckily, you found a job as an advertising specialist, which provided you with a stable income that was enough to meet your needs and even help contribute to the household. When you had to work long hours, you would leave your son with your lovely neighbor, who was a grandmother and loved taking care of him like her own grandchild. She would always try to talk to you about leaving your boyfriend every chance she gets, she even tried to set you up with her amiga’s son. Of course you knew she meant well, but you would just offer a forced smile and a coffee she told you was her favorite to try and change the subject everytime she talks to you about it.  

Over time, your relationship with your boyfriend continued to deteriorate. He stopped helping you around the house and you would come home to find dirty dishes piling up in the sink and no food in the fridge. If there was food, it seemed like he only prepared it for himself. It felt like he was becoming more and more selfish and unthoughtful, leaving you to take care of everything on your own while he prioritized his own needs. 

He showed little to no interest in caring for your son too, often expecting you to handle all the parenting, household…everything! If your son cried, he wouldn't bother trying to comfort him and would just give him his phone while he watches TV. You didn't even know if he listened to you when you tried to talk to him about keeping your son away from gadgets.

If there was a mess to clean up, he always expected you to take care of it. He even went as far as shouting at you like a maid to do everything, showing a complete lack of empathy or willingness to share the responsibilities of raising your son.

As if it was only you who made your son? He literally put him inside you?

The breaking point in your relationship came when your boyfriend laid a hand on you. He was drunk when he got home, you asked him where he’d been and he told you, he went into a bar, out with friends—after that he told you not to ask any further questions. But the sickening perfume clinging on his shirt didn't stop you from asking if he was cheating on you and out of nowhere he came up to you and slapped you across the face. You knew at that moment that you had to leave him to protect your child from further harm. Yes, it was you who got hurt by him and if he could do it to you, he would do the same to your son. So you gathered your things and left that very night, never looking back. You also decided to leave the job you were working at, wanting to put as much distance between you and him as possible. Surprisingly, your ex-boyfriend never made any attempt to contact you or even ask about your son, as if he was relieved to be rid of you both.

Now, meeting Natasha felt like a breath of fresh air after the toxic relationships you had experienced. She was kind, empathetic, and genuinely interested in your well-being. Not to mention that she was almost a decade younger than you and was a beefy woman that has godly arms, that made you literally swipe right on sight. And behind that godly body she had a geeky side—she wore glasses, framing her intelligent green orbs, sparkling as she literally rambled about Greek mythology during your first date.

You were having a great time with her and you think you both clicked and you know that eventually that night during your date you have to tell her about your son which you were hesitant about, fearing judgement or rejection.

What if after you told her she will excuse herself to the bathroom and never come back and leave you with the bills? Or what if she will suddenly tell you that her dog is sick even though she doesn't even have a dog? Well, you don't want to assume already but these are the things you had experienced in the past when you started dating again—a lot of stupid excuses that led you to expect rejection or disappointment when you mentioned you had a son. 

However, as you gathered the courage to reveal this information, Natasha's reaction took you by surprise. 

“You have a son? That's wonderful. I hope to meet him soon.”

And you knew from there that you would let her take you to bed…not just to sleep though.

And speaking of bed you are now stretching yourself around your own bed, the memories of the night before came flooding back to you. You could still feel her lips on yours, her hands skimming over your body, her inside you. But then, the sheets where she had been laying is now cold, she is no longer beside you. You tried to look around your room but she's nowhere to be found. 

You immediately get yourself dressed soon, your mind shifting to a familiar routine—cleaning the house. Having come from an abusive relationship, you have become accustomed to cleaning as your ex-boyfriend had placed the burden of household chores on you, demanding that you clean the house, iron his clothes, and prepare his breakfast before he left for work and it has been an ingrained habit on you.

Though you were saddened by the thought of Natasha actually leaving, your instinct to still do the things you usually do every morning is a priority, and after that, you are planning to call Darcy to pick your son up and cry to her that you feared yet another date failed.

Maybe she was just embarassed to say it in front of your face, that she's not into single mothers and she was just being kind and she thought that you seemed like you haven't been laid for like what? Two years now? So she just slept with you and immediately fly off afterwards. Maybe you have to start putting a single mother warning on the dating app you have been using or maybe stop using it at all.

As you descended the staircase, a tantalizing aroma wafted through the air, causing your stomach to rumble. You strained your nose, trying to identify the source of the mouthwatering scent. Was it a rich pasta sauce or perhaps a delectable baked mac and cheese that was cooking in the kitchen? The mystery deepened your hunger, making your stomach growl even more insistently.

Wait, who was cooking in your sacred kitchen?!

Entering the kitchen, your gaze fell upon a delicious delightful sight —Natasha, clad in your strawberry-patterned apron, her beefy arms flexed as she skillfully stirred a pot on the stove, her strength and cuteness on full display. Sensing your presence, Natasha turned around, her smile widening as she laid eyes on you. 

“Good morning.” Natasha greeted you with her deep and velvety voice. 

“H-hi…”

“I hope you don’t mind me being here in your kitchen.”

Well, you literally let this woman take you in your own bed and be inside you the very same night you met…where else couldn’t she be in?

You looked around, taking in the immaculate state of your house. It was as if a cleaning fairy had come in the night and transformed the place. The floors were spotless, dishes were washed and put away, the couch cushions were fluffed and there were beautiful freshly cut roses arranged in a vase on the countertop. Your gaze fixed on the vibrant petals as you admired its simple beauty.

Natasha, noticing your gaze, commented shyly, “I brought some...for you, a while ago. I'm sorry for getting out of bed, I wanna prepare something for you before you wake up.” She smiled sheepishly, her fingers playing with the straps of the apron as she removed it out of her godly body.

Your eyes now darted to the vacuum, neatly tucked away in its usual spot and a frown creased your forehead. “D-Did you vacuum?” Natasha with her glasses slightly fogged up, nodded affirmatively, her hands busily wiping away the condensation.

“You know you don't have to do all this, right?”

“Yeah but I want to.”

“I'm sorry if my house is really that messy that you have to clean it yourself.”

“That's not what it is mama.”

You bit your lip trying not to moan right then and there with the nickname she gave you as you slowly walked up to her, thinking of some ways on how to thank her. 

Your eyes locked onto her figure as she prepare two plates for the two of you, “Thank you,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. You reached out and cupped her cheek to get all her attention. You gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, your fingers brushing against her cheek.

“Baby…it’s nothing, alright?” she giggled.

“Let me thank you for doing all this.”

“Well, your welcome.” She kissed your forehead but when she was about to turn and go back to plate the pasta your hands gripped her tighter and you pushed her gently against the kitchen counter, pinning her in place.

“I thought you will let me thank you for you doing all this for me?” you frowned, looking at her with best puppy eyes you could give.

“Y-yeah…and I said you’re welcome didn't I?” Natasha’s cheeks flushed with a rosy tint, her breath hitching in her throat unaware of what you’ve been meaning to say or do.

Her eyes widened in shock as she watched you slowly kneel down in front of her, your hands reaching for the waistband of her joggers, not even wearing a boxers. She didn't fight, her body seemingly frozen in place as you pulled them down, revealing her erect cock springing free.

You smiled up at her, your gaze fixed on her cock and she felt a heat spread across her cheeks. You wrapped your hand around the base of her shaft, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Thank you for doing all this, baby,” you murmured, leaning forward to press a kiss to the tip of her cock.

“Thank you for tidying up the house.”

Another kiss.

“Thank you for cooking for me.”

Another kiss.

“Thank you for accepting me.”

Another kiss.

“Thank you for taking care of me.”

Another kiss.

“Now, let mommy show you how grateful she really is.”

Without a second, you wrapped your lips around her thickness, taking her into your warm, wet mouth. Natasha’s head fell back against the cabinets, a soft moan escaping her lips. Her fingers tangled in your hair, guiding you as you bobbed your head. 

You continued to suck on her cock with fervor, your mouth stretching to accommodate her girth. Natasha’s hips bucked slightly, pushing her dick deeper into your throat. You gagged softly, but didn’t pull back, determined to show her just how grateful you were.

You looked up at her, your eyes meeting hers as you continued to suck on her hard length. Her glasses were fogged up, her eyes hidden behind the blurred lenses. But you could feel her gaze, intense and unblinking, as she watched you pleasure her.

“Fuckfuckfuck baby, sh—shit!”

As you continued to suck on her dick, saliva dripped from the side of your mouth, a small smile attempting to form on your lips despite the awkward position. You tried to grin up at her, hoping to catch her eye again through the fogged lenses.

Natasha's breathing grew ragged, her hands gripping tighter onto your hair. “B-baby I-I fu—!” she panted, trying to pull you off. But you tightened your grip on her thighs, keeping her in place as you continued to bob your head.

“Babybabybaby I’m going to…” she warned, her voice strained. You hummed in response, the vibration pushing her over the edge. She came with a low moan, her hips bucking forward as she spilled into your mouth.

You swallowed every last drop, your eyes watering slightly from the intense sensation. You slowly pulled back, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. Natasha sagged against the cabinets, her legs shaking as she tried to catch her breath. You slowly stood and she sighed, leaning against you for support, trying to steady her nerves. 

“If there should be someone who needs to be thankful, that’s me,” she buried her face in your shoulder, her breath warm against your skin. “Fuck, mama is-is there something I could still do around the house?” her voice coming out a little bit raspier and low.

You took a hold of her face and giggled, “Someone wants to be rewarded huh?”

“Mhm,” she nodded with a puppy dog eyes, her lips pouting at you.

You bit your lips at her being so cute and placed a kiss on her plump lips, “You have to stop before I let you fuck me to every corner you've cleaned around here.”

The red head then blush at your blunt words, “That's what I want,” she whined as she put her face back at your shoulder, embarrassingly admitting the reason why she wanted to help you around the house. And you just can't help but giggle and place a comforting kisses on the side of her face.

“Pasta’s getting cold, let’s eat?” She offered weakly as she pull back after clinging from you for support after the lingering aftershocks of the orgasm you gave her.

“I don't think I'm hungry for food anymore, I just had my breakfast,” you said with a smirk written on your face. You wiped the remaining evidence of her from the side of your mouth, sucking your thumb clean with a satisfied expression.

Natasha’s gaze intensified, her eyes locked onto yours, in a swift second you yelped as she effortlessly lifted you onto the kitchen counter. 

“Well, I haven't had mine, mama.” 

[enhaheeseung]

BREAK UP - L. HEESEUNG

Pairing: heeseung X fem reader

Warnings: crying, break up, angst, cursing, heartbreak, arguments.

Word count: 2,072k

Note: I'm just writing a few drabbles for now, hoping to get my engagement up a bit. This is really rushed, so it’s not good, but oh well.

Part 2 Part 3

-

“Babe, when are you coming to bed?”

It’s twelve am, and you have been waiting hours past your bedtime so you can finally go to sleep with your boyfriend for the first time in literal months.

It’s been a while since he started working from home, and you thought that would free up some space for you both to spend time together.

You thought you guys could go back to normal like how you used to be but now it seemed like he worked even more after being able to work from home on top of his promotion.

You received no answer, and you sighed. This had been going on for months, him ignoring you and solely focusing on work. You disappointedly slipped under the covers so you could patiently wait for him to be finished.

Staring at the clock, you counted down every minute until a full thirty minutes passed.

You decided to give it another go thinking half hour may have been enough time for him to conclude his work. “Honey, it’s so late,” your voice is groggy, eyes half opened, and you’re still worried about your boyfriend’s well-being. How could you not be when he barely ate and barely slept anymore? The last time you two spent quality time together was so long ago you couldn’t even remember. “Please come to bed. I know you’re tired.”

He snaps at your words, only increasing the annoyance that he currently feels. “Can you just stop talking, damn?!” He agitatedly shouts out of nowhere, turning his head in your direction with an angry expression plastered on his tired features.

Startled by the sudden loudness of his tone you jumped a little bit not used to him speaking to you that way. “S-sorry I was just worried” you tucked back under the covers your heart aching in your chest cause of what he said to you.

He was always on edge lately, but you never received that type of treatment from him. Ever even in your five years of dating, he has always been respectful to you.

“You’re sorry?” he scoffs. “You should be sorry I’m the one working hard every day to provide for you and all the frivolous bullshit you buy, and this is the thanks I get. Do me a favor and stop fucking bothering me while I’m working,” he rubs his temples, turning his attention back to his computer.

It most certainly wasn’t the first time he’d said such harsh words to you after your constant nagging for him to eat and sleep more, but this was the first time you felt pure anger from him, and it worried you cause he was never this bad before and you feared that as time went on like this it would just get worse.

“O-okay.” You looked at his stressed back, noticing how tense his shoulders were, and you felt bad knowing he was taking on all of the work to provide for you both. Apparently, all you were doing was bothering him, but you weren’t doing it intentionally. “I guess it’s a crime to care about my boyfriend.” Your voice broke a little, and you turned your back to him, calling it quits for the night. He could come to bed whenever he wanted.

“You know what?” He shuts the computer and sighs. “I think.” he pauses for a moment, the silence getting the best of your nerves cause you were scared about what he was going to say. “We should just break up.”

His words dangle in the air for minutes, and within those minutes, you feel tears pricking your eyes and your heart breaking into little tiny bits. “Hee-“ you sat up now, looking at him with your bloodshot eyes.

“I know you’re going to run down every reason why we shouldn’t, but I’m done. I’m tired of this, and I’m tired of talking. I can’t do it anymore, and nothing you say can ever change my mind.”

You’re left absolutely speechless too stunned to even say anything not to say he would want to hear it or listen now anyway.

You’ve spent so many long years of your life with him that you couldn’t see yourself being with anyone else besides him you thought that he was your happy ever after and to hear him say he wants to break up felt like a dream a very bad dream never in your life did you ever think he’d say the words but he did and it came out so easily like he’s been wanting to say it but only now decided to.

And the thought made you upset because if he’s been feeling this way for this long why did he even bother to string you along knowing he didn’t see a future with you anymore after your guys relationship went downhill?

In the midst of your thoughts his voice brings you back to the present. “I’ll call your mom in the morning so you can get all your stuff and be out by tomorrow.” You don’t respond, and the only thing you hear for the next few hours is typing on a keyboard.

You would go to the sofa, but you’re literally glued to the bed, paralyzed by grief.

The tears wouldn’t stop flowing, and they definitely didn’t stop once he came to bed. If anything, they got worse when you felt his warmth so close to you but yet so far away.

He tried slipping his hand around your waist, but you slapped it away. “Don’t touch me,” you say through your heartbroken cries.

He immediately retracted his hand, a little surprised at first by how quickly you rejected his touch.

He didn’t care really he just thought it might comfort you a little so you could sleep since you’ve been up crying for literally hours but it didn’t matter one way or the other to him as he turned on his side and shut his lamp off.

Heeseung slept soundly while you lay awake, crying every last tear you had left in you.

-

When morning struck, heeseungs alarm woke him up. His eyes shot open, and he quickly grabbed his phone, turning the awful sound off.

He turned towards your side of the bed and patted the soft material in search of your warmth, but he found none.

His eyes opened, and he was met with a few luggage bags that looked to be packed already. He sat up confused for a moment until memories of last night flooded his mind.

He heard a rustle coming from the closet, and you appeared a second later, already fully dressed this early in the morning. Usually, you would still be asleep when he started work.

But obviously, today was different.

His eyes shifted throughout the room. Most of your stuff was already gone.

As you walked to each end of the room collecting your stuff, his eyes followed you, watching your every movement.

The moment he saw you grabbing all your ornaments, he felt an ache in his chest.

You didn’t have much in the bedroom, but those little ornaments had you written all over them, and it was one of the few things that made it obvious to him that he wasn’t living alone, and seeing them all getting wiped out made him feel sick to his stomach. “Y/n?” He mumbled out while nervously picking at his nails.

You didn’t answer. Of course, you didn’t. He said he was done talking, and so were you. Last night, you came to terms with this. It took hours, but you just accepted it.

You had to.

Were you going to miss him?

Yes.

Was it going to hurt?

Yes.

But you didn’t want to be in his life if he didn’t want you to be in his.

You continued to pick up the little porcelain cat decorations, and that’s when he decided to slip out from under the covers and walk over to you, standing behind you and taking the figurine from your hand, setting it back down where it had been sitting for the last couple of years. “I’m sorry,” he whispered in your ear while back hugging you, the warmth of his bare chest sending electricity throughout your body. “About last night, sweetheart, I was just tired and said a lot of things I didn’t mean, and I know that it sounds like a shitty excuse, but I really didn’t mean it, baby. I’ve just been so stressed lately, and I hate myself for taking it out on you. I’m so sorry I made you cry.” he closed his eyes, inhaling your scent, the one he’d been missing for months.

You hated yourself for the way you melted into his arms after all the things he said to you last night, but it’s just been so long since you felt his touch on you that you couldn’t help it.

You leaned into him, his body pressing flush against yours. It felt so good being in his strong arms again.

But as fast as you melted, you hardened up even quicker, slipping out of his grasp.

You started packing up your things again, keeping a good distance from him because right now you know you could easily forgive him, but you didn’t want to because there’s no way he could say what he said to you last night and change up so quickly in the morning you weren’t falling for it.

When you walked by him, he quickly extended his hand, grabbing you by your elbow, pulling you into his chest, and hugging you closely. “Little one, please forgive me.” he rested his chin atop your head, stroking your back softly. “I need you. Love, without you, I don’t have anything, you know that. Remember, I’ve told you so many times everything I do is all for you. I know I made a mistake, but I’m sorry. Please forgive me, please?” His voice shook slightly, and you could feel just how fast his heart was beating against your chest and the words were on the tip of your tongue, but for the way you feel right now, you think breaking up would just be for the best.

You two were living different lives, and the compatibility wasn’t aligned anymore. As much as you hated living a life without him, the thought of living a life where he was working and you were being neglected was something you hated even more.

Your breath got caught in your throat the moment his lips pressed against your neck. “Please,” he begged in between each soft kiss he left on your neck. “Say something, please,” he sniffles softly and rests his palms over your stomach.

You peeled his hand off your body, turning around to tell him that you were done straight to his face, but it was so hard cause he looked absolutely distraught. “Heeseung, I’m leaving, and that’s final.”

The sob he let out almost made you break down in tears yourself. He tried to cover it by cupping his mouth, but it was too late. It was one of the most heartbreaking things you’ve ever heard from him, and you had to leave now before you ended up forgiving him.

You quickly grabbed your things, wheeling them to the front door with him close behind you. “I can’t let you go, y/n. I-I love you.” his arms were secured around you again, and you stood there, trying to remain as emotionless as possible until he finally let go of you. “So that’s just it? What am I supposed to do without you, baby?” He asked warm tears running down his cheeks he looked so sad and vulnerable.

“You said you were tired of talking, and at this point, so am I. Goodbye, heeseung. I hope work treats you better than I ever could.” You unlocked the front door and opened it.

“Y/n-“

“Enough!” You shouted at him, losing your patience finally and letting all your months of pent-up anger get the best of you.

He stood there completely stunned by you raising your voice at him, and it left him speechless.

Even though his mouth was parted like he wanted to say something, the words just never made their way out.

The last thing you saw before slamming the door was his sad, tearful expression, but this was what he asked for, and he got it.

-

Thanks for reading likes comments and reblogs are always appreciated sorry for any typos or errors I hope you all have a good day/night♥️

[whocaresstillthelouvre]

Tide

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Female Reader Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI) Summary: Frankie Morales is capable of almost anything... except not cumming in his jeans when he thinks about you, the pretty clerk at the grocery store he always buys his giant jugs of laundry detergent at. Warnings: Smut thoughts, Frankie's POV and internal monologue, premature ejaculation, so much cum talk, addiction recovery, laundry detergent, this is so ridiculous but I also tried to make it super sweet. Words: 1,200

A/N: I'd probably classify this as a crack fic... but with heart. This is SOOOOO indulgent and ridiculous. I don't know what @luxurychristmaspudding unlocked in me but this is what's released. I know this is my *4th* story in a week, but I couldn't help myself. Also, shout out to the JM Discord and all of the tenants who join in the luxuriousness of this level of depravity.

Masterlist

🚁��🤍Frankie🤍👖🚁

It keeps happening to Frankie over and over and over again. Recovery has been a challenge, abstaining from all of his previous vices means he’s no longer numbing his mind… and body. 

Nobody should ever cum during a prescription commercial and yet… he does. The swimsuit hugged the woman’s curves a little too close, plus she had the same color hair as you. His mind couldn’t help floating to thinking about you in a swimsuit.

Aye dios mio, get a hold of yourself man.

He’s too embarrassed to bring it up to his doctor. The notion of ever mentioning it to the Delta Force boys terrifies him, although he knows deep down they’d lend a sympathetic ear. They’ve killed, fought wars, and climbed out of the lowest points of their lives together… but the thought of letting his secret out? Awful. He shudders at the thought of telling his fellow Narcotics Anonymous attendees: “Hi, my name is Frankie, I’m an addict and I can’t stop cumming in my pants.”

He tries to think of the worst things, mental images that should scar even the scariest of humans, thoughts about death, rotting produce, weird looking insects, and yet, it still happens.

___

“Hi, how’d you find everything today?”

He blinks towards your tag though he’s already memorized your name, it repeats through his mind whenever he climaxes… he wonders to himself how your sweet voice would sound repeating his name. 

Uh oh, quick, think of a bee sting, everyone’s going to die, burnt pizza. 

He shakes his head, the thoughts of you wrapped around him flying out of his head with each subtle knock. 

“Sir, are you okay?”

Fuuuuuuck, you really had to call me sir, didn’t you?

“Y-yeah, sorry, long day. My name’s Frankie by the way.”

Focus, don’t look at how her hand wraps around the shampoo bottle, soldier. 

“Hi Frankie, nice to finally have a name to the face.”

Of course you say his name in the sweetest way. He presses his fingers into the flesh of his palm as hard as he can withstand, he prays you don’t see the way his nostrils flare.

Be strong.

He’s been captivated ever since he first saw you working in the mom and pop market across the street from his apartment. You’re always friendly and smiling, he swears he feels your eyes on him every time he leaves yet he’s too scared to look back and confirm for himself. He wishes he knew how to small talk and somehow step over the threshold of this case of shyness he has with you. 

Why bother? I’ll just end up disappointing you, never leaving you fulfilled. 

He’s so ashamed. 

“That’s a big bottle of detergent, you must do a lot of laundry. You have kids?” 

“I do… a four year old, but she lives with her mom,” he answers, lifting the giant jug into his cart, his cock twitches when he feels your eyes on his biceps. 

Stay cool, you can do this, you’ve literally overcome worse… and cummed over less.

He wonders if you notice just how much laundry soap he buys… he’s confident that you have no clue you're the only reason why his washing machine is constantly working overtime. 

“Oh, I love that age,” you mindlessly muse scanning a cereal box. “Is she as cute as her dad?”

His spine turns to jelly… he feels the phantom getting closer. 

Trash compactors, mom and dad’s divorce, elephant seals.

“Everyone says she has my eyes.”

“Then she must be,” you wink.

Not a wink, not a wink, not a goddamn wiiiiink. 

He quickly pulls his head down, sticking his card in the chip reader, resisting the urge to think of his now aching cock pushing into you. 

STOP. STOP. STOP THINKING FRANKIE.

Focusing on the pin pad breaks his spiral. Relief spreads through his tense body knowing this run in will be over soon, he can go home in peace, his pants surviving this moment.

Your fingers brush against his hand when you hand him the receipt, his favorite part of buying groceries. He’ll stand in your checkout lane no matter the size of the line for the split second of skin to skin contact. It’s all he can afford to let himself have, any more would surely stain his jeans. 

___

“Hey Frankie!” 

He turns at your voice, his breath hitching when you walk over to him while removing your name tag.

“Want to go next door and grab a drink?”

“I’d love to… but I, uh,” he lifts his hat nervously tussling his hair, “I’m in recovery.” 

“Oh,” your voice and face falter, “I’m sorry, um–”

Don’t let this moment pass, you can do it.

“I know a really good ice cream place, a few blocks down, I can meet you there?” 

Ice cream means licking. Frankie, you're an idiot.

“Oh, um, that sounds amazing but I don’t drive.”

“I can take you… if you’d like.” 

“Yeah?” your smile grows wider. “That sounds amazing.”

“I just need to drop these off, and then I’ll meet you outside in twenty?”

“Awesome!” You squeeze his hand wrapped around the cart handle. “I’ll see you soon.” 

Your touch scorches his skin, he blinks watching your ass sway while walking through the doors to the backroom. 

1-2-3, a gush of hot liquid releases against his jeans, his knuckles turn white as they clutch the cart handle.

Jesus Christ.

Frankie picks up his bags, holding them close to his crotch and leaves the grocery store. He better hurry. Thank god he just bought more detergent. 

___

In hindsight, he’s thankful for his little grocery store indiscretion. He’s carefree and relaxed as he falls even harder for you over chocolate sundaes. You ask for extra rainbow sprinkles and laugh at all of his jokes. 

This must be what it’s like to live normally.

___

“That’s me,” you point to a small bungalow unbuckling your seatbelt. “Thanks for the ice cream Frankie."

“This was really fun,” he turns towards you, shocked at how close you’re leaning towards him. 

Kiss her. No, wait, don’t kiss her. Yeah, definitely don’t kiss her. 

“It was,” you lick your lips and lean even closer. 

He can smell you now, you smell divine. Like ice cream and floral perfume. 

You place a soft kiss against his lips and pull away.

Frankie’s body tenses, a pathetic whimper escapes his mouth, he spurts against the cotton of his briefs. Doe eyes rounded with embarrassment stare at you.

“Sorry,” whispers out of his downturned lips. 

“Oh,” your face fails at hiding a smile, “Frankie, it’s okay. Really.”

His head knocks against the headrest, face frozen in a grimace, his eyes squeezed shut. 

“Frankie,” your hand clasps his chin forcing him to look at you. “Honestly, it’s okay. It’s actually… kinda hot.”

Right then and there he knows he’ll never shop at another grocery store again. 

[its-time-to-write]

OMGGGG WELCOME BACK QUEEN!!!!! honestly you can write quite literally ANYTHING (esp hurt/comfort pls pls pls) with jamie bc all your fics are simply immaculate 🫶🏼

THANKS QUEEN. I’m starting off with the most open-ended prompt and let me tell you, ya girl is RUSTY. This took way longer than it should so pls forgive me😅

But yeah requests are still open so ask away!

birds of a feather

The lights are off when you get home, but you don’t bother turning them on. You’re familiar enough with Jamie’s house that you can make your way upstairs and to his bed without looking. You drop your bag, kick off your shoes, and trudge upstairs.

The light’s on in his room but he’s passed out. You smile to yourself despite the day and switch off the lights.

You weren’t going to cry again, really you weren’t, but by the time you’re brushing your teeth, they’re sliding down your face.

But it’s dark, so no one can see.

You slip into bed where you can (hopefully) cry yourself to sleep when a sob escapes your throat.

Another slips out, then another, making it hard to stop and harder to breathe.

“Babe?” comes Jamie’s hoarse voice. “You alright?”

You can feel him reach for the light, so you blindly grab for his arm. “Don’t,” you gasp, “Please, just leave it off.”

Jamie understands what you mean. You’re trying to say, I don’t want you to see me cry.

He shifts so his face is two inches from yours. He’ll be awake in a few hours, but it doesn’t matter at the moment.

“What happened?” he whispers, but he already knows the answer. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but Beard had been running the team ragged in training.

You take a shuddering breath and Jamie’s eyes have adjusted enough where he can wipe away a tear. “Went exactly as expected, didn’t it?” you say. “She did what she always does. Asked for money, was furious when I said no. Asked for advice, was mad when I gave her an answer. Asked me to listen, was upset when I wasn’t giving her solutions. She stormed out after an hour, but not before throwing her wine on me. I ruined the dress you got me, I’m pretty sure we got papped, and I’m really, really sorry.” That’s going to be a lovely article to wake up to in the morning. If Keeley were here, she would be able to come up with a catchy headline for it, rhyming “Tartt,” with something about sisters and WAGs and thrown wine. 

But Keeley isn’t here, it’s just you and Jamie, and you can’t help but think it’s too early in your relationship for this.

Really though, you haven’t been together long enough for your name to tarnish his. That’s a milestone that should be passed in ten months. A year, even.

Jamie barely catches himself from asking, “Why do you still see her?” just like everyone has asked him about his father.

Instead he says, “I’m not fuckin’ worried,” and wraps you in his arms. 

You exhale and snuggle as close as you can. 

It’s times like this where you remember exactly why you’re with him. He just- gets it.

You met him through Keeley. Keeley had been your sister’s friend first, met at a photo shoot, but it was hard to stay friends with your sister. You and Keeley became close while your sister accused you of stealing all her friends.

“Keeley would love to see you,” you had tried to tell her one time in an attempt to keep her from shouting.

“The fuck I would,” Keeley had snorted when you relayed the story hours later.

Keeley’s a genius, really. She took a horrible a vitriolic viral tabloid story about Jamie’s dad and a charity gala, and managed to create this, whatever “this” is.

Jamie’s running his thumb up and down your arm as your breathing evens out.

“Want to go on a run with me and Roy tomorrow?” he asks. “I’ll get you breakfast.”

You whisper back, “I can buy my own breakfast,” and Jamie’s grateful that it’s dark so he can roll his eyes without getting smacked.

“What if I fucking want to get it for you? What then, ey?”

You respond, “Hm,” and then you’re asleep.

—

If Roy’s surprised you’re with Jamie in the morning, he doesn’t show it. He grunts and says, “Don’t think I’m going fucking easy on you, Tartt,” but he sets the warmup at a pace you like before saying, “You’re doing fucking sprints today and I don’t want to hear fucking shit about it.”

He’d never admit it, but Roy’s excellent at reading people. The sprints are so you don’t have to have a single thought inside your head. By the time the sun rises, you’re enjoying coffee on a bench with Roy while Jamie completes his eighty-second pushup.

“Don’t fucking read the fucking Sun,” is the last thing Roy says before leaving to go to his actual work. You grimace, but Jamie takes your hand and swings it the whole way back to his house.

“I’m not going to see her again,” you tell him. He knows you’re lying. He said the same thing about his dad month and a half ago, but he’s going to see him in rehab next week.

Jamie hands you a credit card on his way out the door “to get something fucking hot, babe.”

It won’t change anything and it won’t even fix anything either, but that’s not the point.

The point is he’s looking at you. He sees, he understands, and he’s still there.

You do end up reading the article. It’s complete shit, a made up story about you being a bitch whose newfound celebrity has alienated you from your loving family. Nowhere does it mention that said “loving” family only comes crawling around when they need something. That what they take from you will never be enough.

The fuck did you read that shite for? comes Jamie’s text after you’ve ignored his last five. ik that’s why ur not responfing

Why is your autocorrect never on? you write back instead of answering.

Jamie’s reply is quick: for the aesthetic

You: So you can write “aesthetic,” but have trouble spelling “responding?” Seems strange

Jamie: Sma helpd

Then: *Sam.

You smile, despite yourself. Sometimes you wonder how much of this he does just to get a rise out of you. You suspect it’s more than he lets on, but you’ll let him pretend to be stupid for now.

You check the time. If he’s texting at this hour, it means training’s done. Your finger hovers over the call button for a fraction of a second before pressing it.

Sam picks up on the second ring. “Your boyfriend is hitting Isaac with a towel,” he says, no preamble. “It is chaos.”

“He was just texting me a second ago,” you say.

You can practically hear Sam shrug through the phone. “It escalated quickly. Do you need him? I’m sure they will stop since you’re calling.”

He doesn’t sound too sure, which makes you laugh. “No, it’s all good, can you just tell him-”

You’re interrupted but the muffled sound of the phone being wrestled away from Sam.

“Jamie’s a dickhead,” comes Isaac’s voice far too close to the speaker before there’s vague wrestling again and you hear Jamie, very much out of breath.

“What’s up, babe?” he asks and you don’t even remember why you called him in the first place because you’re smiling too wide.

“I really fucking love you,” you tell him and even though it isn’t the first time you said it, you feel nervous. The good kind, where you know he’s going to say it back and mean it, and that his words are just for you.

Jamie says, “I love you too,” and tries his best to convey a thousand meanings into four words.

“Great,” you say, “because the top Google story for you is me with a giant wine stain on my dress. So I think we should go out tonight and look so hot that everyone forgets all about it. Thoughts?”

Jamie says, “Fucking mint,” then, “fucking ow,” and you can tell by the sounds in the background that Isaac’s gotten him again. 

“GottagoloveyouheresSam,” he says in a rush before you hear him practically hurl his phone.

“You have some strange coworkers, Sam,” you comment.

“You have a strange boyfriend,” he retorts, and he’s right. But Jamie’s strange matches your strange, so you think it’ll last.

[charliedawn]

Can you write about the slashers finding out the nurse has a stalker? (That isn't them lol)

(Hi ! Sorry for the absence everyone. It has been a really busy year for me. But here you go ! Thank you for the request !)

Jack is usually pretty chill. He wouldn’t do anything at first if he saw the stalker didn’t bother anyone. But, if he saw that the stalker was starting to get a little too annoying ? He would make him get the message.

Jack would drape an arm over your shoulders and give the stalker the ‘Get out of my face’ look.

And if he still didn’t get the message ?

Then the stalker would unfortunately find his way down a flight of stairs—the express way.

You were sleeping when you heard someone open your window. You immediately turned on your lamp, but was surprised to find Patrick Bateman standing in the middle of your room.

He was covered in blood and lit up a cigar.

He took a deep puff and exhaled loudly.

You waited a few minutes before asking what he was doing here and why he was covered in blood. To which, he took his time to answer.

Patrick: "I apologise. I found a cockroach at your window."

You *look him up and down suspiciously*: "…Must have been one hell of a cockroach, huh ?"

Him *smirks* : "One BIG cockroach."

Bo: "Ssh…You the one who likes followin’ Nurse Y/N around, huh ? Ssh…Come on. We wouldn’t want to wake them up with your pussy screams, right ?" *proceeds to bust the stalker’s kneecaps*

Bo is the type of man to take action. He wouldn’t wait or warn you about the problem—but he would take care of it. Because he likes to be the man of the situation, the one who takes care of business and makes sure no one would be stupid enough to bother you.

So, let us just say that the stalker unfortunately didn’t make it.

"Oh oh oh. Naughty naughty stalker. You are one fffffunny human, ain’t ya ?!"

You woke up the next day with a pool of blood next to your bed. When you asked Penny about it, he replied with a large smile that he had a midnight snack.

You told Norman and asked for his opinion on what to do. He asked you to explain exactly what was happening and remained with a polite smile on his face as you proceeded to explain everything.

Once you were done, he still had a smile on his face. He wordlessly stood up, rolled up his sleeves and left for a couple of minutes before returning with an axe.

Your eyes widened and you tried to stop him, but too late. He stepped outside, knowing your stalker was probably waiting for you to get out of the house. The stranger was surprised when he saw Norman leave. It didn’t take Norman long to spot the stalker and without his smile leaving his face, he walked towards the stalker and swung his axe—barely missing the top of the stalker’s head.

"…If my baby girl/boy ever tells me you have been following her/him again…I won’t miss."

And with that, Norman went back into the house—humming a happy tune…while the stalker was left on the ground with his pants soiled upon having the scare of his life.

Pennywise was being his usual annoying and sarcastic self when he noticed someone following you from a distance. He didn’t care at first…not until he read the guy’s thoughts. And what he found in there ? It was enough to make his usual smile falter.

After that day, he decided to teach the guy a lesson. He hence took your appearance for a day and lured your stalker away from anywhere where they could be seen. And when he was sure there was no one around ? He took back his appearance and in one second, gulped down the stalker.

Literally.

No more stalker. Pennywise didn’t even leave the bones behind.

Brahms noticed from the start. Of course he did. Brahms used to be a stalker himself. But, your stalker was not a professional stalker and Brahms didn’t take him all that seriously at first. Besides, who was he to judge ?

But then…He hurt you. He took pictures of you. He kept them to himself, and Brahms felt as if it was getting exhausting for you.

And Brahms could not take it anymore.

One night as you were sleeping, the stalker crept into your room as per usual, but Brahms was waiting for him this time. And before he could approach your bed, Brahms took the stranger by the neck and held him above the ground. The stranger’s feet kicked the air…until they didn’t move at all.

Brahms let his body fall to the floor. He then proceeded to drag him out of your room—unaware that you had been awake the whole time. You closed your eyes and let go of the knife you had been clenching in your hand.

…

Jason noticed that one of the nurses was following you around. At first, he didn’t do anything as it seemed that you weren’t all that bothered by it. But then, he realised that you weren’t smiling as often anymore and that you would occasionally take pills to help with the tiredness (having a stalker meant really little sleep since you knew they were watching you.)

And finally, the stalker hurt you. He saw a bruise around your wrist and that…That he couldn’t handle.

At his arrival in St Louis, his machete was confiscated, but he was hired by a domestic furniture company to do mandatory work. And guess what is in high supply in his place of work ? That’s right. Wood and nails. Jason built himself a wooden mace with nails. Poor stalker ended up in a ditch around the hospital…his whole body smashed and mushed.

The moment Michael Myers would get a whiff of that stalker near you, he would become a permanent wall between you and the stalker. Your own watcher and bodyguard. The stalker would become the observed. Michael wouldn’t sleep or eat while the stalker is still there. And the moment they would meet ? Myers would make him regret ever being birthed into the same world as him…

[hoshigray]

Anon said: I hope it's okay.. wondering if you could write something for ushijima where he's married with kids and the mc is starting to feel insecure about her body and ushijima shows to her how much he still gets turned on by her (now more than ever too). Also I'm really happy I came across your blog! Absolutely love your writing! 🤗💕✨️

Omg another Ushi request!! Stop this is so cute, has me grinnin' and shit!! Tysm for the kind words, noonie, happy to have you on my blog as well~ ;w; ♡ (also, I'm so so so SO sorry for deleting your ask before, plz forgive me bc the draft wasn't finished AT ALL, lmao)

Cw: Ushijima x fem! reader - soft and then smutty, so minors DNI - reader is chubby + has stretch marks cuz I said so - kisses on body (f! receiving) - cunnilingus/oral (f! receiving) - implied breeding kink - praise - biting (Ushi nibbles on your tummy, cheeks, and nipples) - clitoral play (swiping and sucking) - ends with implied insertion - slight overstimulation - reader feeling self-conscious about their body but Ushi coming in for the rescue - you and Ushi have two-year-old twin sons!! Wc: 2.8k

There's nothing you would want to change about your life.

You already thought you hit the jackpot when you stumbled upon and started dating THE Wakatoshi Ushijima, a man you never — in your WILDEST dreams imaginable — could see yourself with. And the fact that he proposed and took you as his spouse is shocking enough. But now, as you see him on the couch with two small children asleep on his lap as the man watches the television, it's hard to conceal the smile that sneaks past your comprehension, and you silently walk upstairs to your shared bedroom.

It's been three years since you and Ushijima tied the knot, and you expectant with two boys immediately after. Since then, your life has gotten brighter and brighter by the day. Not only has Ushijima been a great and supportive unit as he has been since he first met you, but watching your sons grow into such beautiful bundles of joy never fails to make you beam with glee. And it's so cute because they're literal carbon copies of their father! Aside from being much more expressive and bubbly than their silent parent, he says they get from you.

For the past three years, every day in the Ushijima household has been grateful. Having a loving husband and two wonderful children is evidence of such. Because of this happiness you bestow and witness, there's absolutely nothing in this life that you'd want to change or replace…

...But that's a lie because there is one thing you'd wish to change. And it bothers you as you stare into the bedroom mirror.

Turning your figure to the left and right in your underwear, you're the only one here who can point out the critiques of your body that you've noticed since pregnancy. Your brows crease as you bore holes at the plumpness of your abdomen that wasn't this curvy before, the detailed streaks of your stretch marks indicating the changes your body's undergone through the years. And your appearance comes off plumper than you've remembered prior; memories of your "perfect" figure from your wedding night flood your mind.

The mirror doesn't display a "you" that you recognize. It's a "you" that has long replaced your old self — the old self who was distinct compared to now, the old self that would model cute outfits and pose with their friends, the old self that grabbed the attention of a well-renowned volleyball player and would soon bear his children.

That old self is long gone, fueling your dismay about who you're looking at as your reflection. This is you, but this isn't your body, is it? It can't be. A body like this shouldn't be able to experience the happiness you're experiencing...should it? The more you stare at your reflection, the blurrier your head is clouded with your thoughts, and an uncomfortable bob strangles your throat.

KNOCK!! KNOCK!!

You jump at the sudden sound, turning to face the ajar bedroom door. Your husband, Ushijima, entering halfway. "Can I come in?"

"Uhhh, yeah, come in!" You stutter as you grab an oversized shirt (Ushijima's) to cover up. It's funny: being together all these years and you still wish to be modest around your partner. He closes the door behind him once you sit on your side of the bed. "Put the boys to bed."

"Mhmm." He hums in response, walking to the mirror you were using, touching up on his hair before taking off his shirt. He stretches in front of the glass, and you observe him as he does so. His reflection depicts the gorgeous lean physique as his breathtaking back muscles captivate you. Even when he goes into the closet to fetch a more comfortable tee to sleep in, your eyes never leave him.

Strong. Stoic. Incredibly athletic. And a cadence that engulfs anyone in his path. There are many ways people in your surroundings have depicted your husband. And with a front-row seat, you understand what they mean. Ushijima is a rather unusual breed of man, both mind and body; it's a fact you've known before you two dated. And it's a fact that grasps your attraction to him constantly. All these years, and he's still the handsome man you fell in love with.

Makes you wonder if he thinks the same for you. Even with your current body...

"Y/n." A voice snaps you back to the present, turning to the other side of the bed to see Ushijima look directly at you. You blink with a shiver; he must've been calling for you while deep in your thoughts. "You okay?"

You cough before answering. "Ahem, yeah, yeah! Sorry, I'm fine."

The man trenches his brows. "No, you're not." He cuts you off before you can say an excuse. "This is the third time this week you've been thinking up a storm to yourself. Not to mention you've been doing it for the past few months."

"Am...Was I that obvious?"

"That, and I saw you looking at yourself earlier." It's bad enough his blunt answers shoot arrows to your heart, but to know he did see you eyeing yourself at the mirror? Your mind goes rampant thinking what he'll say next. "So, what's wrong?"

You could try to dismiss the topic again and just retire for the night, but you know Ushijima well enough to know you can trust him with what you're thinking. You sigh heavily, turning to your fingers that fidget amognst themselves. "Toshi...Do you...like my body?"

One second goes by. Three seconds. The silence gnaws you, you chew on your lip to distract yourself until the man answers. "...What do you mean?"

"Like...before I had the boys, I felt real...confident? With myself?" Your fingers now toy with the comforter covering your lower body, the awkward atmosphere eating you alive. "I'm not saying I was the most gorgeous person alive or anything, but I liked how my body looked. And now, after being pregnant and everything, I just feel like.....I don't know. Forget about it; good night!" You swiftly turned off the lamp on your bedside and patted your pillow. But before you can situate yourself to sleep, a hand comes to your cheek, prompting you to look at your spouse again.

"Y/n." The way he says your name is so calm and comforting. You lean to his touch. "Is that what's been bothering you?"

You nod, a thumb stroking the soft flesh of your cheek. "Yeah, it's just me with my stupid thoughts bullying me, really..."

Ushijima hums, his free hand freeing your lower half from the warm comforter, exposing your legs to the air-conditioned space. "You shouldn't let those thoughts take the best out of you. You're an adult; it's only natural that your body changes as you grow. And as a mother, it's not guaranteed you'll look like your old self." Once again, the man obliviously scolds you with his curt response. Although, you know he's not wrong, nodding to his words.

"I know, I know. It's just..." Another sigh leaves your fatigued lips. "Every time I look at myself, I just don't know...how can such an amazing and wonderful guy like you still want to be with me looking...different. I get it: it's just my head being mean. But still..." And you leave it at that, withdrawing your face from his warm palm.

Ushijima, though, kept his eyes on your solemn expression. He tries again, bringing his hand up to your chin to look at him. "To answer your question: yes, I do like your body. The reason why is that it's your body. I keep mine in the same condition — if not better — simply because I have a job that requires me to do so. But that's just for me, not you. I didn't date you just because of your body alone. I sure didn't propose to you for it either. I married you — all of you. I love everything about you, and that love hasn't changed since I said my vows." The hand on your chin returns to cupping your cheek. "And it won't change just because of some natural changes to your body. Otherwise, I'd be a terrible husband and father for thinking so."

"Toshi..." Just when you thought your love for this man couldn't get any significant, he always finds a way to bring it up to substantial levels. Your heart swoons to his words, making you fall unquestionably in love with him again. Now you bring a hand to his cheek, "You're such a wonderful man, you know that? So lucky to have you as my husband." He averts his gaze from yours, a sign you know is his way of accepting praise.

"I'll say this, though," the tall man places his other hand to seize your small one on his cheek, olive eyes boring into yours: a sign of honesty. "Ever since you had the twins, I think you've become more beautiful than before."

His face draws in close, and your breath hitches. "Toshi—"

"I mean it. You're so beautiful..." His lips rest on your plump ones, and you're gently pushed to your back with your head on the pillows. It doesn't take long for you to melt into his kisses, small gasps when he leaves your lips to set sweet smooches on your cheek and neck. "So beautiful for me....."

The feeling of his lips on you has you under his spell, and you mean when a hand snakes under your shirt. Ushijima lifts the material to expose your body to him; humility still runs over you as you use your hands to cover yourself. But the man before you doesn't let that happen, moving your hands off your body and onto his shoulders. "Don't do that. Let me see it all." His mouth goes back to your neck, sucking on your skin that'll surely leave marks for you to see in the morning.

He then ventured down, kissing and sucking on every piece of insecurity that caged you. Every stretch mark, from your shoulders to your tummy, kissed with love and gratitude. Your plush thighs were rubbed by his hands before his mouth came down, giving the fat above your panties a teasing bite, causing your legs to jerk. Ushijima removes your underwear, discards the lacy material to the cold wooden floor, and spreads your legs to have your bare genitalia out for him to see.

Your face is now hot from the exposition. "Toshi..." you say his name in a whisper, not wanting to get loud as your bedroom is not too far from your sons'. "Please, you don't have to—Ooohhh..." You're cut off when you feel his tongue lap on one of your nipples, licking on the bud while using his hand to toy with the other breast.

"No, I do have to." He says in between licks to your nipple before taking it wholly into his mouth; your whimpers fail to cooperate on wanting to be stifled by your lips. The heat between your legs starts to flourish, having you grind your thighs together to ease the throbbing sensation. And Ushihima notices, releasing your mound from his hand and slithering it between your soft thighs, protruding his fingers between the folds of your vagina. A sharp cry comes out of you at the sudden contact of his forefinger brushing your clit.

"Ahhhh! Toshi, right there, right—Mmmmm..."

"Not yet, Y/n," your husband coos to your ears, his voice so hot to hear. "Need to warm you up first..." He lays kisses on your neck while pushing his finger into you. You bring a hand to cover the shriek from exiting when his digit enters your chasm, your inner walls adjusting to the size. And when he inserts his middle fingers, you find purchase on the tee he's wearing.

"Oooh, hooohh...Jesus Christ, Toshi, your fingers," you whine to him. He brings his face up to glance at yours. "Feels so good, so—Ahaaannn!!"

"Shhhh, keep feeling good for me." He coaxes you with a kiss on your forehead, the pace of his fingers quickens, and the squelching noises coming from your cunt burn your ears. Your hips buck whenever his digits scrape the velvety walls, and your mind slowly descends into a lustful haze. You want him so bad — want him right now.

And Ushijima takes this time to examine your body while he works on your leaky slit. Watching your figure quiver to his touch, your mouth agape for cute moans to fill the space, and your eyes screwed to an expression of pleasure. Here is where he treasures you more than ever: having you like this with him and only him. It turns him on. It's a raunchy thought, but it's true.

Beauty stirs many images in Ushijima's mind. But nothing triumphs over the true definition of beauty when it's about you. You are the most beautiful in his eyes, both body and soul. Every time he looks at you, the memory of your first smile to him flashes before him, a moment he cherishes till his last breath and is the moment that cemented his wish to have you by his side. And now married with two bouncing boys, there has not been one instance where his light for you diminishes. If anything, it grows brighter and brighter.

However, when it comes to his attention that you don't see yourself in the same light as he does, it's only befitting for a husband to fix that. Because, in his eyes, even through all the changes throughout the years, your body still drives him insane. Especially now, when he's the reason that transformed you with his youths. And seeing you writhe on the bed with his fingers in your vulva, that switch that once flipped before has twitched something inside him...

"Ahhhn!! Nnnmm!! Toshi, Oh God..." The tall man snaps to your disheveled look, your eyes watery and lips puffy from frequent chews. "Haaah!! It's coming, I'm gonna—Ohoooo!!"

"Go ahead. Cum on me, Y/n." He kisses and nibbles your cheeks before putting his mouth on your nipple once more, sucking and lightly biting the nub while pushing his fingers in and out of your cunt at a sporadic rhythm. He places his thumb on your clitoris, swiping and grinding on the tender button. And that was the final piece for your orgasm to overtake you, the walls of your slit clamping around his digits while your body quivers with the crawl of your spine.

Your cries fill the bedroom, riding out your climax until the last tremble. Toes curl as your pussy flutters on him, and they relax when your body is sheathed with a soothing silence that calms you down from the aftershocks. Pants exit swollen lips, too distracted in your bliss to catch a glimpse of Ushijima moving downward to your southern lips, his tongue running on your slick-coated folds.

A forced wail comes out at the motion of his mouth on your chasm. "T-Toshi, stop! I'm too sensit—Iiieeee!!" Your hollers return with an ecstatic vigor as your husband drinks your essence.

"Y/n," his voice was loud enough to draw your awareness to him, licking your fluids from your inner thighs. "You drive me crazy, you know. Your body, it turns me on so much."

"Mmmm, hmmmm, r-really?" Even though Ushijima is sucking on your most delicate areas, you're able to carry on with the conversation.

"Really. Actually, I've been turned on throughout the entire pregnancy. Something about making you big and swole with a baby — the thought about it makes me go wild." He finally removes himself from your cunt, licking remnants of your fluids from his lips. He then takes off his tee, his well-built physique for your eyes to ogle.

Hooded olive eyes stare at you as he undoes the drawstring of his sweatpants, bringing them down to reveal his erection. The image of his cock springing has your sweat run to deep ice cold. You know where this is going, and you can't tell if the pulses of your chasm are out of fear or mutual excitement. "Toshi—"

"Hey, Y/n, I've been thinking" he brings you close to him, your legs spread for him. He then aligns his dick to your wet cunt, using your slick to lubricate the tip of his length before pushing it between your folds. You have to bring a hand up to conceal the mewls. "Maybe we should have another baby. Let's try a girl this time." His mind clouded with aroused thoughts; you pregnant with his child again, all big and round and swole with his child. The image sends shivers up his since. He gets so fucking turned on by it. But as long as it's you, it's all good. Even now, when the tip is finally inserted with a muffled cry from your covered lips, Ushijima doesn't want to turn back.

"Want them to be cute and beautiful like you..."

[grlsinterrupted]

Hi can you do a Dallas x fem!reader where they're dating and she wears glasses but he doesn't know because she doesn't wear them outside of school (literally me😓) and one day she wears them around him causes she's gotten used to it but he's like so confused cause he's never seen her wear them or mention them ty💗💗 (sorry its such a long request😭)

i wanna kiss, kiss your eyes again .. wanna witness your eyes lookin’ ‧₊˚ ✧

wait, you wear glasses ?! | dallas winston x glasses wearer ! reader ⋆｡˚

-

it’d never occurred to you that throughout the 6 months you and dallas have been dating, he’d never seen you with your glasses on. then again, you only ever wore them while you were at school, where the writing on the board was impossible to decipher all the way from your seat. despite the number of times you’d asked your teachers for a spot closer to the board, they denied your request every time.

after school, you never quite bothered with your glasses. sure, you’d have to suffer the consequence of blurred vision, but a little squinting’s never hurt anybody. your glasses made you look like a nerd, anyway.

a few nights prior, dallas called you to ask if you wanted to go to the cinema with him. ponyboy wouldn’t stop rambling on and on about a new horror movie they’ve been playing in the theater, and as annoyed as dallas was having to deal with pony’s constant ranting, he figured he’d take you to go see what the rage was all about.

you were in your room, adding the final touches to your makeup as you swayed your head to the beat of lesley gore’s new song. right as you were looking for your blush palette, your eyes stumbled across a pair of baby-pink cateye glasses. for a second, you glared intensely at the glasses, almost as if you were in a staring contest with them. you were conflicted between wearing them and leaving them in your room for the rest of the night. even though you knew dallas would find it strange, you also realized that you wouldn’t be able to see anything playing on the screen.

you let out an deep exhale, lightly grazing your hand against the lenses before finally slipping the glasses on. what could be the harm in wearing a stupid pair of glasses, anyway? your boyfriend has seen you at your highs and your lows, the best and the worst parts of you, so your decision to wear them tonight was really nothing compared to everything the two of you have been through together.

you step out of your house, knocking on the window of buck’s car. dallas nearly dropped his cigarette, startled from how sudden the knock was. just as he leaned over to unlock the door, he paused, squinting his eyes at you. he raises a brow, then unlocks the door for you.

as you’re slipping into the car seat, he tosses his cigarette out the window, his gaze practically glued onto you— more specifically, onto your glasses.

“those are new.” he rubs his finger along the plastic, chuckling.

you lightly swat his hand away. “no, they aren’t,” you sigh, slipping your glasses off to wipe the frames. “i’ve just never worn them around you.”

“so they’re new, ‘cause i’ve never seem ‘em before.”

you shake your head. “they’re not new, dal. i’ve had these for years, now.”

“let me try ‘em on. wanna see how blind you are.” he reaches his hand out, opening up his palm.

you purse your lips, reluctantly handing him the glasses. “don’t break them, okay?”

“‘course not, princess,” he slips your glasses on, pushing them up by the bridge in a mocking manner. “do i look all nerdy like you, now?”

“hey, you calling me a nerd?!” you pout, snatching your glasses back and slipping them on.

he shrugs. “maybe. but i gotta admit, ya look real cute with those on.” ‘i don’t wanna talk about anything, i wanna kiss, kiss your eyes again, wanna witness your eyes lookin’ .ᐟ ₊˚⊹♡

-

[etherealising]

chapter one | a berzatto family christmas

masterlist | next chapter ↣

pairing(s): carmen berzatto x fem!reader : platonic!michael berzatto x fem!reader : platonic!richie jerimovich x fem!reader

summary: you reunite with carmy years later at the berzatto family christmas party.

warnings: language (cursing), blasphemy, angst (maybe?), spoilers kinda (if you haven't seen season 2 don't read), the berzatto family, not dialogue heavy, very subtle hints to mikey being suicidal, probably ooc!characters, idk what else but if you find something let me know please! not beta’d and minimal editing so sorry for any mistakes. i also wrote this overstimulated on caffeine so if it doesn’t make sense or it’s repetitive then we know why : )

semantics: no use of Y/N: reader goes by the nickname Baby it has a backstory and its literally so simple, if this bothers you idk what to tell you, sorry : (

wc: 4.7k

You were standing on the sidewalk, nerves filling your body as you hyped yourself up to take the few steps left to the porch and ring the doorbell. You shouldn’t have been so nervous, you knew that but your mind was spinning with the myriad of scenarios both good and bad; that could play out once you stepped foot past the threshold. In all honesty, it wasn’t so much that you were nervous to enter the house itself, it was the fact that you’d be face to face with your childhood best friend for the first time in you didn’t even know how long. Maybe childhood best friend was a stretch you had only been introduced into each other's lives due to circumstance, and because of that forced proximity, you both took comfort in having someone stable around.

The two of you weren’t friends because you had chosen each other, or because you had met in kindergarten and shared toys in the sandbox because the other kids were stingy. No, you met because as a single mom, your mother needed all the shifts she could get even if that meant working the graveyard shift at the hospital, and only seeing you a handful of hours throughout the day because most times she was too dead on her feet to be conscious for more than a few hours. And when she could no longer pay the babysitter her next best option was the eccentric woman across the street who had children close in age with you.

Enter Donna Berzatto, a woman who came to feel like a second mom to you. It's not that she replaced your mom, no one could ever replace her, but she was the only real mother figure you knew for a time in your life. Who took you in as her own when your mother needed a new babysitter, and not just you but integrated your mom into the family as well, when she was spared the time off from nursing. Donna Berzatto who never sent you home empty-handed, and always made enough food for you and your mom to last throughout the week, just so your mother wouldn’t have to worry about fitting grocery shopping into her already hectic schedule. Donna Berzatto who, even when you were old enough to no longer need a babysitter, would send Carmy across the street to fetch you for family dinner, or even just invite you over because she thought you needed company.

Now that you were thinking about it, it seemed like you were more friends with his mom than you ever were with Carmen Berzatto. But then that would be a lie wouldn’t it?

You and Carmen Berzatto were friends due to circumstance, maybe even best friends. You weren’t just friends at his house, but you were school friends, you were everywhere friends. He really was your only true friend, of course, you had school friends, but that’s just what they were. You saw them Monday through Friday for a mandatory education, never an hour before school started or a minute after the final bell. Which didn’t necessarily bother you, but sometimes you longed for a weekend invitation to hang out, not that it ever came. And it wasn’t like you were shunned or unpopular in school, you were just average, you didn’t see a point in making friends with people you weren’t actually interested in befriending.

That’s what made Carmy so different, yes maybe you were only introduced due to circumstances but that didn’t stop the two of you from latching onto each other for dear life. Your mom always wondered how you two even established the friendship you did, with both of you being shy and never feeling the need to go out of your way to make friends. Include the fact that you had been neighbors practically your whole lives and never once taken an interest in each other aside from shy waves and curious childlike staring when either of you would be outside.

Your relationship with Carmen progressed as any childlike relationship would, you befriended each other, had your incessant petty arguments and fights, nothing ever serious enough to actually cause damage just childish antics. And it continued to progress through middle school and high school, the two of you were each other’s person, you just understood each other, the two of you let the other understand you, and wanted to be understood by each other.

You could also recall what you explain as a minute change in your friendship. As Senior year approached and you and Carmy continued to grow into yourselves, you developed a slight crush on the boy you had grown up with. It obviously wasn’t as small as you thought it was if you were standing in front of his childhood home giving yourself a pep talk just to ring the damn doorbell though was it?

The unsolicited card and wrapped present weighed heavy in your tote bag, as your breath was made visible by the chilly Chicago weather.

It was Christmas and for all intents and purposes you had been planning on mailing the present to Carmen’s New York address, but after visiting The Beef on your way back into town Mikey and Richie had let it slip that indeed the infamous Berzatto sibling would be gracing everyone with his presence this holiday season.

It was moments like these you wished you had picked up on the Berzatto family’s horrible smoking habit, thankfully your mom had taught you just how vital having functioning lungs was.

Your head shot up as the sound of loud rambunctious voices drew your attention to the front door opening and closing revealing a face you were all too familiar with and actually relieved to see. The oldest Berzatto brother stood on the porch, hands on his hips as he gave you a goofy smile. You could feel your lips stretching into a smile of your own, the infectious aura that Michael Berzatto exuded doing wonders to calm your racing mind.

“I know you didn’t come all this way just to stand outside staring at my family home like a fucking weirdo Baby.” Mikey’s smile grew in size as he teased you.

You rolled your eyes at the childhood nickname you wish hadn’t stuck as Mikey opened his arms to wrap you in one of his signature hugs. The two of you stood on the porch embracing each other for what felt like hours, you needed this hug as much as he needed it, you knew it and Mikey did too. That was the thing about you and Mikey although not blood-related it was as if your souls knew each other in a past life. Of the Berzatto siblings, Mikey was the last sibling you developed a relationship with. Growing up he was always just Carmy’s older brother but as you grew up surrounded by him, he became your surrogate older brother as well. And when Carmy dashed off to pursue his culinary dreams in New York, you and Mikey grew even closer.

You stepped back from the embrace, your eyes finding Mikey’s as he looked at you with a knowing glint in his eyes. “You not standing out here cause of a certain Chef in that house are ya?” Mikey asked, smirking down at you.

You chuckled “The only reason I come around anymore is for Mama Donna.” You joked doing a poor job to convince Mikey.

He nodded, tossing his head back with a laugh, “You were always a shit liar Baby. Carmy’s an idiot, don't let him ruin your Christmas.”

You let out a sigh head resting against Mikey’s chest as you tried to let his words soothe you even more, “He’s not ruining it, you just know things have been kind of stilted between us, and I don’t know this whole situation just feels awkward.”

You raised your head to look at Mikey again, “It’s awkward right? Am I making things awkward? I don’t wanna ruin Christmas Mikey, I know how your mom is and I know how Carmy is, I don’t wanna ambush him.”

The worry in your voice was evident as Mikey stood there listening to your ranting. His hand reached out as he used his thumb to massage away the frown between your eyebrows. “Calm down Baby, you know Ma is expecting you, and she wouldn’t take it well if you missed Christmas. She looks forward to seeing you every year, you give her a piece of Carmy when he can’t be fucking asked to come home and visit.” His hand moved down to cup the side of your neck rubbing soothing circles where his thumb rested, “Do it for Ma okay? Let Carmy be fucking wonder boy Carmy a’ight.”

You laughed nodding your head as best as you could with Mikey’s hand holding it, he smiled giving you one last hug before dropping his hand to grab your wrist and tug you into the house. You stopped him by placing a hand on his arm that was connected to yours.

“Hold on Mikey, I got you something.” You moved to start rummaging through your tote bag stalling because you were too nervous for his reaction to the present.

“Awe you didn’t have to get me nothing.” You turned back to him with the present in your hands as he held his own hands over his heart mockingly. You knew Mikey didn’t do well when it came to sentimental things and the best you would get out of him was a joke as opposed to anything else.

You laughed holding the rectangular wrapped present out to him, “I wanted to Mikey, don’t think of this as a gift, think of it uhh…as a show of appreciation yeah?” You nodded feeling your face heat up as you dropped your head so he couldn’t see how unsure you were about the gift.

He smiled, finding your shyness endearing before tearing into the neatly wrapped paper and revealing a frame, his hands engulfing it from end to end. He smiled looking at it before you saw confusion etch across his face, “This is great Baby, yeah but uh what the fuck am I looking at?”

You shove his shoulder before laughing at him and grabbing the frame out of his hands but holding it in front of your chest so he could still see its contents, “It's a trademark certification you dumbass, can’t you fucking read Mikey.” You joked to try and underestimate how big of a gift this was.

Mikey’s brows furrowed before he snatched the frame out of your hands to get a better look at the certificate sitting behind the glass, eyes snapping back up to your face with a look you couldn’t read. You shuffled your feet feeling like you overstepped a boundary you didn’t even know was between you and Mikey, “Don’t worry though I-I, put it in your name, it’s not like I trademarked it for myself or anything. I just know how much this means to you and I, I know shit has been tough lately and I’m sorry if you feel like I stepped on your toes but…Mikey, you deserve good things too okay?” You hadn’t meant to go on a rant, but you could feel the apprehension leaving you as you became passionate in every word you spoke.

“You deserve to be fucking happy Mikey, and I, I want you to know I fucking believe in you and I’m always in your corner. If it's-” You were cut off by Mikey clearing his throat, causing your eyes to snap back up to his, all the emotions he didn’t know how to translate into words swirling in his brown eyes, a small smile resting on his lips.

“Mikey-,” Before you could get another word out you were once again trapped in his comforting embrace, this hug conveying something completely different from the earlier one you shared. Mikey’s head tucked into your neck as you felt his uneasy breathing through your hands clutched around him. Mikey wasn’t the type to get emotional in front of other people, and feeling a tear of his smear against your cheek as he raised his head from your neck and settled his bearded cheek against yours, you weren’t sure if you had done the right thing by giving him the gift or not.

The two of you stood in silence as you allowed Mikey his moment, not wanting to make him feel insecure about you being present while he was being emotional. When he finally pulled away you could see the leftover sheen in his eyes. He tucked the framed certificate under his arm as both his hands reached up to grab your face in both of his hands, eyes finding yours, a whispered “thank you, baby,” leaving his lips as he placed a kiss on your forehead before he grabbed the frame again and wrapped you in another hug.

His head rested atop yours as your face rested against his chest, ear pressed against his beating heart. You lied, you thought the last hug was different, but no it was this hug that was different, while the second hug you shared in the span of 20 minutes was a hug of love and gratitude. This hug felt heavier, like there were things Mikey wanted to tell you but couldn’t, things he only felt he could convey through a hug, things you weren’t sure if you wanted to question or not.

It had been almost 20 minutes since Michael had escaped the house to do whatever the fuck it was he was doing outside. Carmy didn’t know and in all honesty he didn’t actually give a shit either, too busy helping Donna out in the kitchen to try to give any thoughts to whatever had grabbed Mikey’s attention.

He was focused in the corner of the kitchen making Tiff Sprite to help alleviate her nausea symptoms. Anyone else would have done their best to block out the rambunctious noises going on throughout the house, not Carmy though, the chaos fueled him, it grounded him. If the house was quiet it would have been too much for him, to be alone with his own thoughts ping-ponging around in his head, waiting for a chance to drown him. So if he had to listen to his mom list a plethora of things he needed to make sure happened for Christmas dinner to go off without a hitch while he was making Sprite from scratch, he welcomed it.

He finished his concoction just in time for Richie to walk through the kitchen, the older man trying to figure out how the fuck it was even possible to make Sprite from scratch. Gratefully taking the glass Carmy had offered to him, marveling at the carbonated drink in his hand.

Carmy nodded in his direction, “Yo Cousin, where the fuck is Mikey. He just fucking disappeared.” Carmy’s head swiveled around the kitchen double checking whether his brother was there or not, coming up empty in his search. Richie glanced up before settling his eyes back on the drink in his hand still doing the mental math to wrap his head around what the fuck Carmy just made.

Richie jutted his head in the direction of the front door, “Outside talking to Baby.” His eyes finally focused on Carmy’s in time to see the frown grace the younger man’s face, his eyebrows pinching together in agitation, annoyed that his brother was on a phone call rather than inside. Though that’s what Carmy told himself subconsciously he knew he was just annoyed at the fact that Mikey was even talking to you at all. Carmy didn’t think he was possessive but as you and Mikey grew closer through the years, he couldn’t help but feel miffed about the ever growing friendship between the two of you. You and your friendship with Carmy was the first thing in his life that he felt like was actually his and his alone.

It’s funny really for Carmy to think he has any sort of claim over you, or like the two of you were even really friends anymore. When he left Chicago to pursue his culinary dreams, he left you behind to, essentially ghosting the one real friend he did have. It’s not like he meant to, you two just went your separate ways after graduation, and he wasn’t even sure if there even was an “Us” when it came to the two of you anymore. If that was the case the only person he had to blame was himself, it was no fault of yours that your friendship had hit a plateau, Carmy hadn’t responded to a text of yours in years, and the fact that you still texted him to this day caused a slight pain in his chest as he stood in the middle of his mother’s kitchen, frown still etched into his features.

“He’s outside on the phone with Baby?” Carmy questioned the ache in his chest doing nothing to alleviate his irritation. It was Richie’s turn to frown reciprocating the same confused look Camry wore.

“What - No dickhead, he’s talking to Baby, like she’s right in fucking front of him and shit.” Richie swatted the side of Carmy’s head like a child. “Your moms invites her to every holiday, Cousin, and she comes every time.” Richie knew the last bit wasn’t necessary but felt Carmy rightfully deserved it, all anyone wanted from the youngest Berzatto was a visit.

“Dudes been out there for fucking ever though, those to idiots just standing outside like a bunch of fucking jackoffs.” Richie left the kitchen not waiting for Carmy to follow him before heading to the front door. He stopped moving the curtain on one of the side windows to spot two of the people he considered family. He let out a low whistle nudging Carmy’s shoulder who had finally joined his side nodding his head to the window.

“Get a load of these fucking losers hugging on the porch like they’re in some fucking Hallmark movie or some shit.” Richie laughed pointing at you and Mikey through the window. Carmy leaned closer to get a peak at what Richie was going on about.

Carmy hated to admit it, but Richie was right, the too of you looked like the happy couple who just saved a small town’s Christmas or whatever the fuck Hallmark movies were about. Mikey had finally separated himself from you long enough for Carmy to take in your features. He’d be lying if he said the years apart made him forget what you looked like. You were still the same girl he left in Chicago all those years ago except the wand of maturity had touched you, and in his opinion he thought you looked more beautiful than you had in high school.

Carmy was never one to pay too much attention to a woman’s features, and not because he didn’t care, it's just that he didn’t think it mattered. But as he drank in your form he learned in that exact moment why a woman might want people to notice the small things. Like the haircut you were sporting that Carmy felt shaped your face well, not that he knew shit about stuff like that, but he could appreciate art when he saw it. The outfit you picked out doing wonders to compliment your tall form and accentuate your legs. Carmy could look at you all day, scratch that he wanted to look at you all day.

He was torn from his reverie as Richie narrated the scene happening in front of them, “Aw look at these fuckers lookin all in love an shit.” He joked watching as Mikey slung his arm around you and led you towards the door, what looked to be a frame held in his other hand. The two of you walked side by side, your arm wrapped around his torso, hugging him into your side, Mikey’s head leaning slightly down to whisper something in your ear a small smile gracing your face as Mikey pressed his lips onto your temple lingering there for what Carmen swore was forever.

The tightness in his chest intensified tenfold as the realization of just how close you and Mikey had become sank into him. He didn’t know how to feel, his brain not even allowing any emotions to process, saving himself from any conclusions he might come to from a split second interaction.

Carmy left, he chose his path, he knew this, and he had no regrets he would pursue his dream every time the opportunity was presented. He just wished that, maybe if he held onto you as tightly as you still held onto him, it would’ve been him greeting you on the sidewalk on Christmas Day, being the sole object of your attention holding you close to his longing body. He knew overall the decisions he made regarding you were wrong, while he ignored your daily text and calls enough times for you to just resort to monthly check ins asking him about his endeavors and congratulations as you heard about his achievements in the culinary industry, he knew deep down that Mikey answered every text and call you sent his way, made it his mission to connect with you anytime you were back in Chicago.

Carmy couldn’t admit it to himself but deep down he knew his family saw spending time with you as a way to stay connected to him. You were the closest thing any of them still had to Carmy, and even though he had essentially cut you off from his life, his family loved you too much to allow Carmy’s shortcomings to affect their relationship with you.

He was broken from the recesses of his mind as Richie threw the door open stepping over the threshold raising his hands in the air to welcome you and Mikey into the house. The glass of Sprite still clutched in his left hand, a broad smile spread across his face as you left Mikey’s hold to greet Richie eyes not having spotted Carmy who was hidden behind Richie’s small frame.

Carmy’s first up close look at you in years were your hands wrapped around Richie’s torso as he pulled you into a hug, rocking the two of you back and forth, Richie let you go quickly turning his body back into the house “A’ight fuckers you can all stop pretending you care so much about Carmy and his little rat in the chef hat bullshit. We got the real deal here now, Baby's gracing us with her journalist presence.”

Carmy’s brows furrowed at Richie’s dig only slightly offended about being compared to a fictional character named after pasta, too caught up in allowing the sound of your laugh to grace his ears for the first time in what felt like forever. Mikey had finally caught up to you standing behind you with a hand placed on your shoulder, Carmy watched as his brother’s hand glided up and down your arm before giving your bicep a slight squeeze and nodding his head in Carmy’s direction.

If Carmy was being honest it was becoming increasingly difficult to quiet his mind that was eagerly trying to piece everything together. From yours and Mikey's prolonged moment on the porch, to the kiss he placed on your temple, add in Richie’s jokes and the almost constant physical contact between you and Mikey and Carmy was sure he figured shit out.

You looked to where Mikey motioned his head finally noticing Carmy’s figure standing there while Richie ran off towards the stairs after his impromptu introduction. Looking at Carmy was like being in a Time Machine, nothing had drastically changed, he looked more exhausted than what you remembered. But overall he was the same Carmy you parted ways with all those years ago.

A small smile graced your lips as you took him in, he was still your Carmy appearance wise, and right now for you that was all that mattered. You lifted your hand in a small wave gaining his attention, your smile growing wider as your eyes locked with his.

The clearing of a throat broke you from your thoughts, Mikey’s hand giving your shoulder a squeeze as he walked you two into the house before shutting the door behind him. As he finished he stood in front of you so that Carmy was partially covered from view by each brother in your line of vision though your focus was taken up by the eldest. He gave you a reassuring smile before gently knocking his fist against your chin and presumably turning to leave you and Carmy alone.

As Mikey walked past Carmy he gave him his signature grin and a wink before patting his shoulder as left to check on Donna in the kitchen and mingle with the other guests.

Carmy’s face was still set in the same frown it had been in when he first asked Richie where Mikey ran off to. You took a deep breath to settle your nerves before taking a step to close the gap between you, your hand reached out to gently squeeze Carmy’s arm though stopping in midair as you watched him subtly flinch. Your smile faltered, your hand finding its rightful place at your side. You looked up to see the apology in Carmy’s eyes, you did your best to brush the moment off, maybe you came on too strong, maybe it wasn’t fair that you were still pushing for a friendship when Carmy had given you all the reasons to stop trying, maybe the Carmy in front of you was a different Carmy to the one you used to know. Maybe the life where it was you and Carmy had finally taken its last breath and you were just too clingy and desperate to realize.

You cleared your throat trying to alleviate the lump forming from the thoughts that were racing through your brain. The small placating smile on your face there to stop you from having a full breakdown in the Berzatto’s foyer. “Its good to see you Carmen, I hope New York is treating you well.” You lips wrapped around the generic greeting forcing yourself not to say anything you might regret.

Carmy nodded his head rapidly accepting your lackluster words, his lips parting and closing all in the same breath. The man obviously had nothing to say to you, and maybe you just had to accept that. You stayed a moment longer cursing yourself for doing so as the air between you two filled with palpable tension.

“Baby, is that you? My goodness you look fucking gorgeous.” Half of Donna’s body had popped out of the kitchen finally gaining a spare moment to greet you. Her words mumbled through the cigarette between her lips, a ladle held in her right hand while the left was occupied by tongs. Her apron covered in all sorts of sauces and whatever the hell else your brain couldn’t even begin to discern.

You laughed half in amusement and half in relief, you weren’t sure how much longer you could stand there as Carmy burned holes in your body. You waved at Donna quickly, beginning to head towards her to join her in the kitchen. It wasn’t your first choice as an escape from Carmen but you’d rather try and help Donna finish preparing Christmas dinner than be around Carmy for another minute.

Donna waved the tongs in Carmy’s direction, “Jesus fucking Christ Carmen, take the girls bag and coat. Don’t just fuckin stand there.” She huffed eyes glaring the longer Carmen stayed glued to the spot. You handed him your tote as soon as his arm shot out and began hastily shimmying out of your jacket. You gave him a soft smile before laying the jacket on his awaiting arm.

You began to leave the foyer as Donna motioned for you to follow her, mentally preparing yourself for what you were about to walk into. A sudden thought occurred causing you to gently grip Carmy’s bicep as you were walking past him, “I uh, I actually bought you a Christmas present. So um, find me later yeah?” You smiled tilting your head slightly in questioning.

Carmen Berzatto graced you with a small smile, nodding back in agreement as you sent him one final nod and turned to enter the kitchen. The first positive emotion he granted you since you walked back into his life 30 minutes ago.

next chapter ↣

a/n: this is my first fic that i’m publishing and i genuinely have no clue what the fuck any of this is, : ) but nonetheless hope you all enjoy! or don’t i’m just a stranger on the internet. constructive criticism would be greatly appreciated though. please like, comment, reblog if this behemoth tickles your fancy!

also i write for fun/hobby and i'm such an inconsistent bitch so don't get your hopes too high, but this will potentially be a series idk yet though lol.

[luvrxbunny]

hii sorry to bother you im just gonna request something for ethan landry idk if youve written for him before i havent seen. but im legit obsessed and can you do something about like him being in econ and then getting all flustered from reader sitting next to him and just talking and then after that idk you can make something up hahaha but they go to like readers dorm and SmUt and hes all whiny and subby and maybe mommy kink goirhetlghrtglrhtg :))) dhbckudhfxkd

can you tell im going a bit insane for this guy

if you cant do it its okay also i love your work so much it gets me shuddering like legit

Thank you so so much for requesting! Unfortunately, I have no clue who this character is, (i literally thought he was evan peter's character in ahs before this) so I’m sorry if anything isn’t character-consistent!

Pairing: Ethan Landry x F!Reader

Summary: You find out that Ethan has a little crush on you.  

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, some dry humping, handjob, overstimulation, f!mastrubation, mommy kink (lmk if I forgot anything)

WC: 4.3k

A/N: idk how this got so fucking long idek this guy. also y'all see the compliments in the request?? flattery will get you very far w me

You walk in just as the bell rings, breathing a sigh of relief as you sit down and the professor begins his mind-numbing lecture. You place your bag on the ground and get out all the supplies you’ll need for this god-awful class. 

You’ve finished setting everything up when you realize that you’ve sat down next to someone. You try and see who it is through the peripherals of your vision, hoping you didn’t just sit next to some random person when you realize it’s him.

You’ve been going to school with Ethan for a few years now. He’s always been pretty quiet so he doesn’t have many friends. You guys are friendly, a level a bit higher than acquaintances because you’ve known each other for so long but you don’t really talk that often. You developed a crush on him back in high school. It never grew into anything more because you could never seem to hold a conversation with him... But it never fully left either because he’s still adorable.

You were shocked when you saw him in class on the first day, unable to believe that you were lucky enough to end up with him in the same class, at the same college. You try to talk to him more when you both are paired up in class but he’s not the best conversationalist. 

“Oh! Hey, Ethan! I didn’t even realize you were sitting here!” You try and be extra friendly, knowing how hard it is for him to communicate with others but you’re still met with silence. “Uh- I was almost late again! Did you see me? I got here like- just in time. Maybe I should start walking with you, you’re always on time!” You open your notebook and start taking down the notes on the board as you speak. 

Ethan is still silent. It’s getting a bit rude at this point. You thought the two of you were friendly but maybe he just doesn’t like you at all. You turn to look at him, hoping you’d get an explanation but all you’re met with is his alarmingly red face, fixated on the board. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion. He has sweat lining his hairline and his back is unnaturally straight. “Hey… Are you okay? Are you sick?” Your voice is laced with concern as you speak, hoping this is the one thing he responds to. 

Ethan is trying so hard to act normal, be normal around you but he can’t. It would’ve been fine if you just hadn’t spoken to him. He could’ve easily pretended you weren’t there if he also ignored the smell of your perfume that was all but suffocating him with its ungodly sweet scent.

He’s been hard since you walked in, he always is. He can’t even help it at this point, he doesn’t try. In every class you’re in, his blood is in his dick. He used to try and prevent it, feeling like a pervert for being turned on at nothing but your presence but he’s given up. No one ever notices and he can just get off in the bathroom during lunch if he’s desperate enough. Only this time you’re sitting next to him.

He’s already leaking in his pants. 

To make it worse you were being so nice to him, too nice, and now you’re concerned about his health? Not even realizing that you’re the one who’s got him so hot, not a fever. 

“I’m- I’m fine. Thank you.” His voice is entirely flat as he speaks, trying to keep all emotion out of it in fear that you’ll be able to decipher what they mean. He doesn’t look at you, he’s scared he might cum on the spot if he does. 

You take these as signs of dishonesty. “Ethan… Are you sure?” You bring a hand up to feel his cheek, you’re so zoned into whether his skin is too warm or not, that you don't even notice when his eyes dart to your face. You move your hand to his forehead, deciding that his cheek isn’t reliable enough and your eyes meet his. 

You can hear his breath hitch at the eye contact and breaks it. It confuses you for a moment but you try and focus on the task at hand. “I don’t know, you feel kinda warm, Ethan. I don’t know if there’s a nurse on campus but we can check? I’d assume that-” 

His chest warms at your concern and he thinks it over. 

I can spend more time with her this way, and get to know her better. Can I handle spending all that time with her though? What if she notices my- Yeah. Maybe I just shouldn’t…

“Madame Late Pass?” Your eyes are already rolling into your head and you’re groaning quietly as the professor calls you out. You pull your hand away from Ethan’s face and give him the most distasteful stare you can manage. “Is there something wrong with Mr. Landry that’s distracting you from my lesson?”

“Actually sir, I think he might have a fever or something. I should probably take him to the nurse.” It’s an obvious excuse to skip his class but it isn’t technically a lie so he lets it go. You quickly pack your things up with a smile and motion for Ethan to do the same. 

You hold in your giggles until you guys are outside the classroom. “Okay! Do you wanna go to the nurse? We don’t have to- I don’t even know where it is, honestly.” Ethan is facing away from you, silent. 

Anxiety creeps in. “Hey. S- Sorry if you didn’t want to leave class. I- You could probably head back in a little bit… I should’ve asked I’m sorry. I just assumed. I mean wh- who likes econ y’know? I’m- I’m sorry.”

Your stuttering has his blushing even harder, the thought that anything he does could get any reaction out of you makes him smile. “I’m fine and I-” He lets out a light laugh that gives you butterflies “I kinda hate econ.” 

You place yourself in front of him with a huge smile. “Great! So do I, this will be great!” You lock your arms with his, a risky move, it has your heart pounding as he stiffens up with a sharp inhale but he never pulls away. You guys stroll down the corridors and talk. You have to slow your pace to keep up with Ethan and you’re doing most of the talking but you don’t mind one bit. 

You guys stop at the cafeteria for snacks and Ethan gently insists on paying, bringing the butterflies back to life and forcing a smile to your face as you thank him. You’re both sitting in a corner booth, away from most people, you’re talking and he’s squirming. 

Every few minutes he repositions himself and it was starting to get on your nerves a bit. It felt like he was uncomfortable being here, or that he was anxious for you to stop talking. You ended your story early, letting your voice die down, waiting for him to move again before questioning him. “Why are you so squirmy.?” 

He stops his movements instantly, and his eyes hesitantly look up to meet yours. “I’m not squirming.” He watches your feature turn into one of complete skepticism. “Ethan. I have eyes. If you want me to like… be quiet, or talk less or anything you can just say that. I won’t get offended or anything, I know I talk a lot.” You giggle at the end, Ethan twitches in his pants and has to suppress a whimper at the sound. 

“You’re not talking too much. You’re fine, it’s okay.” He’s struggling not to press his palm into his bulge again, needing any relief after being hard for almost half an hour now. Everything you do is making it worse and he doesn’t know how to escape the situation. 

The way you keep touching him is deadly. The way you linked arms with him when walking, the way you rubbed his back and thanked him as he paid and even now, the way you’ve placed your feet right next to his under the table, something about the action has his precum soaking through his jeans.

He doesn’t notice that you finished your food already and you’re now getting up and gathering the trash. He doesn’t have time to tell you he can do it himself before you’re crossing to his side. “I can take this for-” 

His hands cover his lap but you’re already staring. He doesn’t say anything, hoping that you’re staring at his crotch for a reason other than the fact he’s hard as a rock and soaking his pants. Your head tilts in confusion before you sit down, right next to him. Your scent wraps all around him like a blanket, his eyes fall shut as he breathes in your scent, his hands subconsciously massaging his dick gently. You feel the butterflies in your stomach turn to molten lava as you watch him. 

His breathing hitches as his hands stop moving and his eyes snap open. “I’m s- I’m so sorry. I’ll-” He’s gathering the abandoned trash and getting up but you place your hand on his arm softly and pull him back down. 

“You have nothing to be sorry about, Ethan. Although I’d like to know it’s um- origin.” Your heart is racing at the thought that you were the one to make him this hard, that you- just going about your day- could make him this hard. He answers you without saying anything, his face turns piping red again and he looks away. That does it. 

“Ethan, do you wanna come back to my dorm? I have something to… show you.” 

He’s following close behind you, his shirt pulled down over his crotch and one hand in yours. You’re basically dragging him into your dorm, pressing him into the door the second he closes it. You’re leaning into him, your hands on his chest as his float awkwardly above your hips. 

“I wanna kiss you, Ethan.” He gasps sweetly at your words and leans into you instantly. 

His lips are soft and wet when they meet yours. You whine into his mouth, he moans loudly into yours in response and pulls away. “S- sorry.” His eyes are downcast and he sounds embarrassed. You couldn’t be more confused. 

“What?” You run your hands up his arms, over his shoulders, and to the back of his neck so you can play with his curls. His eyelids flutter at the action and you watch his adam’s apple jump before he speaks. 

“I don’t know. I was- I was loud. I didn’t mean to be…” You can’t help yourself. You smash his lips back into yours, forcing a beautiful moan out of his mouth, followed by a whine before you pull back. “I want you to be loud, Ethan.” 

You whisper the words to him, low and seductive. A little whimper slips out of his mouth and you kiss him again, walking backward towards your bed and he’s stumbling like Bambi as you do. 

His hands are finally on you, wrapped around your waist, trying to pull you in. You maneuver him around to push him onto the bed and straddle him. He’s moaning the moment your weight drops onto him, his hips bucking up into yours against his will and he’s apologizing again. 

You silence him with your lips, attacking his neck, and melting his words into groans and whines. You lift your weight off him, pushing onto your knees and cooing at how he whimpers and tries to follow you with his hips. You push him down to the bed, laying him out for you to admire. You run your hands down his arms, over and down his chest to the bottom of his shirt. Your eyes leave his body to check if he’s okay with this but his head is thrown back, pressing into your pillows with his knuckle between his teeth. 

“Ethan? Are you okay, honey?” A ragged half moan, half sob, shoots from his mouth as his hand leaves his mouth, gripping your arm desperately. He’s still not looking at you and his hands are shaking as they grip you.

“I-It feels s- so fucking g- good. You’re ma-aking me feel so good.” He’s incredibly breathless as his hips grind up into the air, searching for your warmth. You can feel heat explode in your stomach at his words, at his desperation from you just kissing and running your hands over his body. 

You drop your weight back onto him for a moment, to tease him and relieve yourself a bit. He rewards you with a shuddering gasp and his hands come to grip your hips as hard as they could. He can’t even get any words out as your clothed pussy slides over his sensitive cock. Your eyes are shut tight in concentration as you try not to make any noise, wanting to hear his noises instead. You grow a bit frantic in your movements, grinding on him harder, angling yourself a million different ways to try and get the perfect pressure on your clit when you feel his hand on your cheek. 

Your eyes snap open- you hadn’t even realized you closed them- and he’s pulling your lip from between your teeth with hooded eyes on you and a shy smile on his lips. “I wanna hear you too.” His voice is timid and breathy and you can tell he’s being genuine in what he says but all it does is turn you on even more. 

You moan as you dive for his lips, his hips follow yours up and his hand presses your head into his. He’s thrusting into you more forcefully, determined to cum against you but you lift your hips away from his again with a moan as he separates from your lips. “Why? I was- I don’t understand.”

He sounds like he could cry and his hips are still searching for any friction as you watch him, looking into his eyes and admiring all the emotion they hold. You can’t help the smirk that splits your face as he begins to whine for you, begging you to touch him, to make him feel good but instead, you fully remove yourself from him. You sit beside him and tell him to remove his pants, and he excitedly complies. He’s trembling beside you as you stare at the bulge in his briefs, in love with the way he’s leaking through the fabric. “Would it be okay if I touched you, Ethan?” 

You’re fixated on his bulge but you still hear the way his breathing picks up at your question. You crawl in front of him, your thighs laying over his, sitting between his spread legs with your pussy inches from his throbbing cock. Your hands run along his pelvis, tickling the skin just above the band of his underwear, and smiling at the way his stomach tenses under your minstrations. “P- Yes, please. Please- Oh-” 

He gasps prettily as you stick your hands into his underwear and pull his cock out. He hisses when it hits the cold air but falls into a moan as you start pumping him, wasting no time in getting him the pleasure he deserves.

“So. You got hard because..?” You prompt him, wanting to hear the real reason, and deciding this would be the perfect time to tease him. You’re not even sure he heard you, his eyes are still wide and staring at your hand as it glides up and down his cock, extra lubricated from all the precum his dick is spewing for you. 

You watch his face contort in pleasure, his head falling back as his eyes roll back and he begins to whine out your name on repeat. His hands start to shake and grip the sheets tighter, twisting the fabric in his fist before shouting out. “NO-”

You stopped. “Why are you- Why did you s- stop again? I was so- I was so c- close, I was gonna cum-” His voice pitches up at the end into a whine and he tries to fuck himself into your fist. You giggle at him.

“I asked you a question, baby.” He gives you a bitten-off groan at that. “You didn’t answer, which was quite rude but you do that all the time huh?” Your fingers run delicately over his length, watching it twitch as he struggles to respond. “I- don’t m-mean to.” You start jerking him off again, slowly. 

“You- You’re so pretty, I lo- I like y- you so- shit. I can’t speak- you turn me o-on.” He’s barely making sense as his hips fuck into your fist, trying to force you to get him off faster. He keeps cutting himself off with moans and debauched groans. His whole face is red, it’s spread down to his neck and up his ears too.

“I turn you on? That’s why you ignore me?” You stop again, your hand frozen in the middle of his dick. A broken wail shoots from him and his hands shoot up from the sheets to your face, pulling you in for a kiss. He’s licking up and into your mouth while letting his moans spill from his lips into yours. You’re shocked at the desperation and force of the kiss, your lips bruising themselves against his. He’s pulling at your hair gently and moaning as your tongue brushes along the inside his mouth. He pulls back and falls to your neck, whimpering quietly. 

“I can’t think- You make me so- I get so hot around you, mommy.” 

Your heart stops, every molecule in your body getting overrun with arousal at the words- at the name that just left his mouth. He’s pressing kisses into your neck and explaining himself further, as though he’s called you this before, like this is a normal thing between the two of you.

“-And everything about you just makes it so much worse. I just wanna cum for you, I want you to make m- me cum but you keep s-stopping and it hurts so much. I- please, I want you so bad, mommy.” He gasps at the end of his sentence that time and pulls his head out of your neck. 

His lips are wet , soft, and trembling, his eyes are terrified as they scan your face trying to decipher your reaction. He’s breathing fast, in a more panicked way at your silence. “I’m so sor-”

“So you want mommy to make you cum, baby?” His eyes widen with a gentle gasp but he keeps scanning your face, looking for anything that doesn’t feel genuine. His eyes lose focus though, as you begin to stroke his cock again. “I think I can do that… What do you think?” 

He’s nodding at you deliriously as his hips begin to roll themselves into your fist, his hand slides over the sheets until it finds yours and interlocks your fingers, causing warmth to bloom in your chest and stomach. You lean in to kiss his cheek as he moans your name but he turns his head so you catch his lips instead, his moans filling your mouth again. He’s barely kissing you, more like pressing his open mouth against yours, exchanging his breaths for yours as you smile at him. “That feels good, baby?”

His eyes open to meet yours and instantly roll back into his head. “Y- Mommy, don’t stop. Oh- You know it d- does. Please.” He’s interrupting with his own sounds again and his hand is wrapping around your waist, trying to pull your body closer to his. His moans are becoming more frantic and he keeps taking deep, stuttering, breaths in an attempt to calm himself down.

His bottom lip is being bitten red by his teeth, his eyelids are fluttering, struggling not to let his eyes close and roll to the back of his head. You can see his thighs tensing and jumping beside you, they press against your body, tense and stiff as his legs try to shut. 

“So cl- Mommy, I’m so- s-so- please. Oh, fuck.” His eyes snap open to meet yours pathetically. There are little tears that have gathered in his eyes and he looks so out of it, fucked out beyond belief, his head far up in the clouds. “Please don’t stop. Let-” You tilt your head at him as he collapses into a trembling sob, his hands beginning to shake where they hold you, his eyes shut again, and his eyebrows press up into each other. “Let me cum for you, let me cum f- for.”

His sentence is ruined by his orgasm and you can feel the force of it. Not by the way he all but screams your name, or by the way his body folds into yours. You can physically feel it. His cock pulses aggressively in your hand and you can feel each rope of cum work its way up his shaft and spurt out of his tip, running down your knuckles and dripping onto your bed. 

His thighs are trembling at your sides, trying to crush you as he humps your fist the best he can. He’s so loud against your neck, releasing passionate shrieks and wanton whines of your real name or your awarded one. He brings a sweaty hand to your cheek and pushes your face in his direction so he can smother your lips in his saliva, not waiting until he’s connected to your lips to start trying to taste you. You have to suppress a fond giggle at the action, letting him lick into your mouth instead. 

You’re still pumping him, trying to get out all the cum that’s been collecting in his dormant sac. His whole body is shaking now, repeated and choked moans falling into you as he crosses the line of overstimulation. You kiss him languidly and start to slow your hand, not wanting to overwhelm him too much. His fingers untangle from your hand and wrap around your other. 

He pulls away from the kiss and looks at you with hooded, clouded eyes. “I can c-cum again if-” 

He uses his hand to run yours over his shaft, jerking himself off with your hand. “If we- Can we k-keep going?” His eyes begin to cross as your hand establishes a rhythm, you’re not even doing anything, letting him get himself off with your hand. His hips are thrusting up erratically as he moves you frantically over his cock. “I wanna cum f- cum for you a-again.” 

Overcome with arousal, you slide your hand into your pants and start toying with your clit through your panties, your eyes falling shut at the pleasure. You’re already impossibly close, overly sensitive from all the neglect while being pummeled with stimulants; the way Ethan is reacting to you, his trembling body desperately pressing itself against yours, his moans, and the way he calls you mommy.

You hear his moans pick up and your eyes open back up to see his gaze between your legs before snapping up to meet yours. He stops pumping himself with your hand in favor of placing his hand over the one that rests inside your pants. He’s moving his hand in the same motions you are while you start jerking him off again, relishing in the way he’s twitching against your palm.

Ethan knows he isn’t doing anything, he knows that he’s not actually touching you but the way you moan his name makes him feel otherwise. The way you’ll moan at your own movements while his hand moves the same way, has him tricking himself into believing he’s the one making you feel good. The thought has him teetering- tipping over the edge. 

“Gonna cum.” He mumbles against your lips before dropping his head to your shoulder. You move your fingers faster over your clit, your hips beginning to cant up into your hand as your orgasm approaches. 

"Me too, honey. Fuck it feels so good, Ethan.” He moans brokenly as he cums again, thrusting weakly into your hand as his cock twitches pathetically, letting out tiny streams of cum onto your sheets. He’s gasping out a plea into your neck as he cums but you can’t make out what it is.

“-please. Oh, please. Cum, mommy. Cum. C-cum. Please cum. Fu-uck” You can’t help the way your body convulses against him or the shouting moan of his name that shoots out of your mouth as your eyes roll back. You can feel yourself soaking your panties as you shudder against him. His hand is still over yours, moving your finger over your clit in the midst of your orgasm, prolonging it as long as he can before you’re pulling your hand away and kissing him as passionately as you can. 

Both of you have your arms wrapped around the other as you guys kiss, dopey smiles on both of your faces when you pull back. He has a shy blush over his features that makes you giggle and press a kiss on the tip of his nose. You’re both lost in the moment, giggling and kissing each other, love-struck when you hear your dorm room open. “Oh god, what’s that smell?”

You hear your dormmate behind you and cover Ethan as best you can, with your body. “Sidney, fuck off!” You shout at her, hoping she’ll get the memo and leave but instead, you hear her speak again. 

“What?.. Oh eww.” You roll your eyes at her and look at Ethan, his face is red, obviously embarrassed at the presence in the doorway. 

“Oh my god! Shut up and just leave!” She finally leaves and you apologize to Ethan for the interruption. You kiss softly along his jawline and down his neck to calm him down, you fall for him the moment you pull away.

You get to see- for a moment- the face he had while you were kissing him, content and pleased, his eyes shut with a pretty little smile resting on his lips. 

Thank you so much for reading! and thank you even more for requesting!! Please please please give any feedback you may have! I want it all!

[penkura]

Hello! I really like your writing! I've been on an angst kick (with a happy ending, I'm too soft) if it's alright can I request female reader getting annoyed at how flirty Sanji is with other women, because she likes him, he hears her calling herself ugly and when he compliments her, she just says "You literally say that to every woman, I'm not special to you." Or something along those lines? Thank you<3

Mmm I love angst with Sanji, he fits it so very well.

I've chosen to make this a two-parter with a happy ending, so keep an eye out for that once it's done and posted! 👀

Special [1/2]

You understand how Sanji is and you’ve accepted it for the years you’ve known him now. He flirts and fawns over and dotes on every woman he sees, he’s chivalrous to a fault, is willing to forgive the lies other women tell him, and always wants to take care of others through food especially. You’ve become so endeared to Sanji over time, having developed a crush on him that you can finally admit to yourself is real, after swearing to Nami up and down that it wasn’t a crush, just admiration for your crewmate.

You never thought it was more than that despite the envy you felt when you’d see him flirting with another woman, whether they reciprocated or not. If they did you had to excuse yourself from the scene, but if they didn’t you felt relief yet disappointment for Sanji. You wish he’d see you that way, like someone he could like and flirt with, even if it was never real. Just knowing he sees you in a positive light, outside of being a crewmate, would be enough.

So why doesn’t he? Does he view you too much like a family member now to do that? Is it your looks? Robin says you’re prettier than any of the girls Sanji seems to gravitate towards, but maybe she’s just being nice to make you feel better. You had to leave the bar your crew was at when you got too annoyed seeing Sanji trying to woo another woman, it got to be too much for you after you thought you were making progress with him the other day. It led you to the bathroom on board where you’re picking yourself apart out of annoyance and maybe some hurt.

“Is it my hair…?” You stare at yourself in the mirror, pulling a piece of hair and letting go back into place, “Maybe my face is just ugly to him…or I’m too short…”

Staring for so long you lose track of time and hear everyone coming back, sighing to yourself before you make another comment that you must just be ugly then, leaving the bathroom. You only notice Sanji is there when you bump into him, he grabs your arms to keep you from falling just in case.

“Oh, Sanji, hey, sorry about that, I—”

“Who said you’re ugly?”

“…huh?” You tilt your head seeing the look on Sanji’s face, his brows furrowed and looking like he wants to kill someone, “Oh…oh! No, no one said that to me! I…just…think I realized something is all.”

He's so confused, how could you ever think you’re ugly? He thought he’d made it clear that he thought you were lovely, both looks and personality. Has he not shown or stated it enough?

“You’re not ugly at all, [Y/N]! You’re so beautiful, I can’t help but be blinded by you! I feel so lucky I get to see you every day and—”

“Enough, Sanji,” you pull his hands off your arms and push him away which surprises Sanji, you normally don’t mind when he’s so close to you, “You don’t mean that.”

“Of courseI—”

“No, you don’t. You say that to every woman you meet,” Sanji shuts his mouth as you sigh and smile sadly before you start to walk back to the women’s bunks, “I’m not special to you, I get it. I won’t bother anymore.”

Sanji knows when not to chase after people, so he lets you go off to bed on your own. Maybe he should’ve stopped you, explained himself and how he’s been flirting with other women simply due to his belief you have no feelings for him. He was convinced you didn’t like him back, never mind the few times he’s caught you giving him shy smiles or laughing at him while you help him cook. Sanji only thought you were like that because you’re friends and you liked hanging out with him, not that there might be some romantic feelings involved.

He feels terrible, how could he let you think it’s because you’re not attractive? It’s not true at all, he’s always thought you were the prettiest girl he’s ever met, but he was drawn to you for the fact you’d stay up and help him in the kitchen, you’ve stayed around when he's had his nightmares and fears of his past come to surface, helping him through them even if it kept you both up all hours of the night.

You’re honestly the most special person to him right now, and he’s made you feel so terrible about yourself.

I’m sorry, [Y/N]. I’m going to fix this.

[lowkeyrobin]

Hi, i was curious if you could do a fic where reader is the sister of thor and loki (loki is ofc apart of the VKs) and reader has something for both hades and hook. If that’s ok since marvel is apart of Disney, but they didn’t have to based off marvel.

okay I can definitely try although I don't write for Hades, but I will try! ; I also know nothing about Thor or Loki (not a big marvel fan) so I did some googling... also i couldnt really work loki in so were gonna pretend its an uliana-ursula situation im sorry ; also I do only write gn / they/them readers only so sorry ab that ; thanks for requesting, hope you enjoy! ; also this is lowkey awful I'm sorry writers block has been killing me and I'm prob going on a break soon :(

HOOK & HADES ; god

summary ; you, sibling of loki & thor, attend merlins academy. two of your friends are sadly becoming more than friends

warnings ; language

word count ; 1k

masterlist

"Don't think about it," you roll your eyes, sensing that Hades and Hook were behind you, planning something devious. "It's like you forget I'm telepathic," you speak, spinning on your heels to face them.

James, widely and awkwardly, smiles, Hades a blank expression on his face, holding his ember.

You slowly blink, awaiting an explanation.

"We weren't doing anything!" James quickly denounced.

"We were gonna scare you into teleporting away"

"Again"

You chuckle, spinning on your heels once more as they join you at your side. You rest your arms around their shoulders, a devious smirk on your face.

"Wanna play a game of Telepathy Telephone?"

"Oh, I do!"

"Yeah, sure"

The three of you sit at a metal outdoor table, Hades poking his fingers through the little holes. Hook spreads his hand out, pretending his hook was a knife -at least it's as sharp as one- as he taps it between the space of his fingers.

"Who wants to start?" You ask

"I do!"

"No, I want to. You went first last time"

"I'm Y/n's favorite"

"I'm literally a God. I'm they're favorite"

Never in a million years would you admit that you didn't have favorites because those two had you wrapped around their fingers. You'd be taking that to the grave.

"I rule the seas-"

"I rule the entire Underworld, James"

"Y/n, who's your favorite?"

"Dude, what's wrong?" You whisper to Hades, who sits next to you.

His eyes don't leave the person whom they're glued to as he mutters an answer back. "They were mocking you"

You furrow your eyebrows, "What?"

"They were mocking you" He repeats, raising his voice to normal as he speaks to them. "Hey, do you wanna say that to their face? Or no?"

The kids turn around, looking at you and Hades. He leans back in his chair casually, arms crossed, as you look confused beside him.

"Yeah. They're annoying. Maybe shut up sometime" one of them answers.

Hades flicks on his powers through his ember, his hair burning a bright blue flame, his eyes lightly glowing the same color. In his attempt to scare the kids, it kind of makes you stare at him for far too long.

Okay, that's kinda hot.

Even if you are the bullies, it was nice he was sticking up for you. It didn't bother you practically at all, as you could handle it yourself, but yeesh, this side of him was hot. You couldn't lie.

The kids turned back around, silencing themselves for the rest of the class, not wanting to be scorched to bits. He flicks his powers off, looking at you staring at him with hearts in your eyes.

"Whatcha looking at?"

You quickly look away, trying not to focus on the heat rising in your face. "Nothing," you mutter. "Thanks"

Hades rolls his eyes, knowing you found him attractive. It wasn't because of his ego, no, he'd known for months now. Though, he couldn't shake his head that someone else was in the equation as well.

"Uh, no-"

"Please. Just one date!"

You look around, trying to find a way out of this situation. You didn't want to go out with this random AK, and they wouldn't take no for an answer. You were bad at telling persistent people no.

Hook approaches, wrapping a hand around your waist. "Can I help you?" He speaks to the person.

"Who are you?" They question.

"Their boyfriend" He quickly answers, pulling you a little closer. He can feel your silent sigh of relief, the tension in your shoulders quickly dissipating. Butterflies storm your stomach to replace those awful feelings though.

The kid looks between you and Hook before quickly scurrying away. He turns to you, an eyebrow raised in confusion.

"So..."

"Very persistent" you answer, rolling your eyes.

"I see" He nods, removing his hand from your waist, butterflies still swirling in your stomach. "You alright?"

"Mhm" You quickly answer, the feeling inside slowly dissolving as his hand was removed.

He sees the look on your face, taking it as you were uncomfortable after the interaction, maybe because of him.

"Would you want to go get ice cream with me?" He asks, wanting to make you feel better.

"Uhm, sure" you smile lightly, accepting the kind gesture, temporarily staring at him a little too long in a friendly way. Eugh, you seemed to do that with everyone now.

He holds his hand out for you, awaiting for you to take it so he can lead you away. You smile kindly, taking his hand.

"Think I may love you, James," you speak, knowing he'd only take it as platonic.

"Love you too"

You, Hades, and Hook were in the Black Lagoon, messing around and chilling out during the night. Uliana, Morgie, and Maleficent were God knows where, probably having a sleepover or prank calling people.

You sit on a shell-shaped couch, all sprawled out and comfortable.

"If you don't shut up-"

You use your magic to silence Hades, not wanting to listen to him ramble on and on even more. He slaps your shoulder, trying to yet you to un-silence him.

You and Hook giggle and laugh, and do even more as you shape-shift to look like the blue haired friend, mocking him. You return to your natural shape, allowing Hades to speak again.

"You're not funny" he grumbles

"If you say so" you levitate off the couch, lazily making your way over to a little box where you kept snacks. "You guys want anything?"

"Nah"

"I'm good"

You return to the couch with some snacks and drinks, continuing the conversation about random things. Hades eventually gets up to wait for the others to get here, as they'd contacted thay they'd actually be on their way.

That leaves you and Hook on the couch, awkwardly sitting around.

He eventually speaks up, a thought wracking his mind.

"Did you mean that I love you the other day in a romantic way?"

You quickly turn your head to look at him. You think about your answer for a moment before attempting to shoot your shot. "What if I did?"

"I'd kiss you" He quickly replies.

You blink for a moment, deciding to be upfront and honest before you get yourself stuck anywhere. "Okay, uh, to be honest, I'm into you and Hades. So, uhm.."

"Ew." He quickly speaks, but then corrects himself. "Not because you're into two people, I couldn't care less. But Hades?"

You stifle a laugh. "Hades"

He shrugs. "You do have awful taste"

"Are you roasting yourself?"

"No?!"

[overtrred28]

So high school | Jessie Fleming x reader

Summary; The story of how you and Jessie were brought together one fateful night in college and didn't leave each others side ever again.

Words; 2050

Pairing; Jessie Fleming x UCLA reader

A/N; Mother Taylor has inspired me and a tiktok that paired a footballer with an academic girl and I had thoughts. Then I was wondering who to do it with and THEN… UCLA J FLEM. I hope you enjoy this as much as I do because I’m in a Jessie mood rn. Btw this has been sitting in my drafts for literally like 2 months and I haven't had the inspiration to finish it until today. Enjoy loves xx

Jessie was more than kind of uncomfortable right now.  She was tired after a full day of classes and an early morning training session, wanting to flop into bed after her long day and sleep away most of the weekend. But here she was, nursing a cup of coke in the corner of a frat house and wishing she had declined the invitation to come out with half of the soccer team. 

“You good?” Teagan had made her way over, leaning against the wall and looking down at the midfielder who was seemingly lost in thought.

“Yeah, fine.” Jessie nodded her head, hiding the fact she desperately didn’t wanna be here anymore. 

“Why don’t you try and go talk to someone? I’m sure there are plenty of pretty girls catching your eye right now.” Teagan nudged her shoulder with a smirk, downing her drink before walking away again. Jessie sighed before taking another sip of her coke and walking to another section of the house where more people congregated. 

Her eyes filtered through the room, trying to take the goalkeeper's advice but giving up after noticing every pretty girl making their way over to someone else. Eventually her feet mindlessly walked her over to the back door, the glow of the pool under the moonlight catching her eye first before she spotted you. 

Your friends had practically dragged you from your dorm, insisting you had to come and party with them, but where were they? Probably inside making out with frat guys and forgetting you actually came with them. That’s how you had found yourself sitting on a deck chair outside, avoiding the loud music and heavily intoxicated 20 year olds celebrating the start of their senior year, after your friends ditched you early on.

It didn’t bother you, them leaving you alone that is. And you could have gone home but you wanted to stay and make sure your friends made it home safely. 

Jessie only saw the side of your face from how you were positioned on the chair but immediately found herself drawn to you. People may have called her crazy for falling with just one look, but when you know, you know. 

You didn’t hear the sliding door open, too busy looking up at the moon and wondering what else you could be doing right now if you stayed in bed. It wasn’t until you heard the chair beside you creek that you finally noticed her, snapping your head at the noise and becoming encapsulated by her big brown eyes and freckles immediately. 

“Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you.” She apologised, her eyes somehow getting bigger and more beautiful. 

“I-it’s okay.” You let out a breath. “Just wasn’t expecting anyone else to be out here.” You shared a soft giggle and she finally smiled. 

“Yeah, not really my scene.” Jessie shrugged and began sitting back in the chair, copying her movements and turning your head to face her.

“Me either.” You smiled before reaching out a hand to her. “Y/N.”

“Jessie.” She connected your hands, ignoring the tingling she felt in her fingers while you pushed down the butterflies fluttering around your stomach. 

You two spent the rest of the night talking before she offered to walk you back to your dorm, after finding out your friends had already left with guys and you were left alone. Well, not so alone now. 

The next few weeks would find you and Jessie with each other as much as possible, save for your individual classes, and you were happier than ever. You weren’t dating, no but it began to feel like it, especially when you ran down the bleachers after she won her next match, Jessie catching you as you jumped into her arms with pride. 

After almost two months since meeting you finally had your first kiss. It wasn’t super romantic but exactly how you would have wanted it to go. You and Jessie were hanging out in her dorm, you studying for an upcoming exam and her pretending to catch up on classwork but really spent the whole time staring at you. 

“Jessie.” You were focused on the millions of highlighted poems and texts that sounded you on the floor but could feel her eyes burning in the back of your head. “I can feel you staring.”

“What?” Jessie acted dumb, biting her lip to hold back a smile as she watched you turn your head, raising an eyebrow.

“You know that if you don’t get this work done you’re not playing this weekend. And I already cleared my schedule to watch you soooo.” You sat up fully, leaning back on your arms to look up at her on her bed.

“Can we not just take a small break? We’ve been at this for hours!” She whined, tilting her head at you, a fake pout accompanied by some puppy dogs eyes. 

“It’s literally been 45 minutes.” You deadpanned as you got up and jumped up to sit next to her. 

“45 minutes too long.” She huffed and you stifled a laugh as you looked at her. 

“What would you rather us do then?” You asked while shaking your head at her, letting out that laugh but stopping when her silence was noted. You looked up to find her staring, no, gazing into your eyes, a look on her face she had many times but this was the first time you noted it. She looked lovestruck. 

Your mouth opened to speak again but you were cut off when she was suddenly moving forward, one hand reaching up to hold your cheek and the other moving down to hold your waist. Before you could process anything, her lips were on yours and it was as if you had been transported into another world.

After that kiss your relationship didn’t seem to change that much, still spending almost all of your time together, though this time spending it a little closer and with a lot more kissing. Something about your relationship felt so young and naive, like you were back in high school making out at parties and never spending more than a couple hours apart from one another. 

You now went to all her training sessions, sitting in the bleachers finishing homework while she prepared for their next match. Jessie loved you just being there but was getting a little annoyed that you weren’t fully paying attention as she ran rings around her teammates in an effort to impress you. She knew the perfect way to get your nose out of your books. 

“HEY BABE!” Jessie shouted up to you across the pitch. The sheer volume and urgency of her voice caught your attention instantly, looking up to find her waving her arm comically in your direction. 

“What?” You laughed alongside her teammates who were standing on the pitch waiting for something to happen. 

“WATCH THIS!” She yelled again before running back to her starting position, eyeing up the cones and dummies she meticulously laid out and the ball that laid in wait for her. You bit back a smile at her excited nature, waiting for her to begin whatever trick she was about to show off. 

She began dribbling the ball skillfully through the first few cones that were placed closely together. Yourself and her remaining teammates watched her feet intensely, quite impressed with how precisely she was keeping the ball in and under her feet. She made it through her round of cones and looked up towards you in the stands, making sure you were in fact watching her and whether or not you were impressed. But what she failed to notice was how close she had positioned the steel dummies that were part of her second skill test. 

Everyone saw it happen before she did, running straight into the dummy, too distracted by you to realise she was running into it. You heard the ding from halfway up the bleachers and within seconds you were racing down to her on the pitch, trying to keep your laughter at bay so you could seriously check on her. 

“Jessie, are you okay?” You knelt down to where Jessie was now sitting up, legs splayed across the grass and a hand to her temple, soothing where she hit her head. 

“Don’t laugh. I was just trying to impress you.” Jessie finally spoke, avoiding your eyes and producing a pout, meanwhile her freckled cheeks were getting redder than they already were. 

“Oh baby I know. It was very impressive till… you know.” You directed her eyes back to you with a soft smile, biting your lip again to hold back your laugh. 

That night Jessie continued to pout, even when you were giving her all your attention, laying between your legs as you held an ice pack to her temple and babying her all night long even though you didn’t put the dummy there, she did. 

After graduation you moved with Jessie to England for her contract with Chelsea, you managed to land a position at the University of London, teaching in the English department, a great start to your life together in a new country.  

Jessie proposed to you in January of 2022 after three and a half years of dating, keeping it private and personal by dropping down on one knee as you were getting into bed one cold night. 

Clad in flannelette pyjamas and fluffy socks, just having got out of the shower, you walked back into the bedroom expecting Jessie to be curled up in bed and waiting for you. But as you turned the corner she was bent down on one knee and holding a ring in her shaking hands. Jessie had prepared a whole speech about how much she loves you and wants to spend the rest of her life with you but in true Jessie fashion she got nervous and the only words that came out were. “Marry me? Please?” 

You both took the next year to plan the wedding for Spring 2023 before the world cup, wanting to make sure you knew what you wanted and to enjoy being engaged before being married. 

The big day finally arrived and you hadn’t seen Jessie in more than 24 hours, both of your bridesmaid groups separating you from one another for practically the first time in almost 5 years. 

It was a beautiful ceremony filled with all for your close family and friends to celebrate your love and unite your families. You cried, Jessie cried, everyone cried. The reception though was one massive party. Everyone danced, everyone drank and most of all you got to have fun with your wife like you did back in college. 

At the end of the night, after the party ended and everyone went home, you and Jessie were sipping champagne on your hotel room floor, giggling with one another in the silent room while wearing matching pyjamas. 

“I love you.” Jessie said as she stared, no gazed, in your direction. “You’re so pretty, will you marry me?” Her words were slightly slurred as her tipsy frame swayed back and forth every so slightly. 

“Too late, already did.” You laughed as you brought your left hand up to her face, showing off both of your shining rings. “Look.” You brought her hand up too, showing her own ring clad fingers to her, shock adorning her freckled face. 

“We’re married already?!” Jessie shrieked and you knew it was time for bed. 

“Yes, now come on. Time for bed my love.” You placed a kiss on her lips before putting your flutes down and pulling Jessie up with you from the floor. You dragged her over to the large bed, crawling alongside each other to then assume your regular positioning. Jessie waited for you to get comfortable against the pillows before laying herself across your chest, her pillow. 

“Baby?” Jessie spoke after a few minutes, tilting her head to look up at you. 

“Hmmm?” You respond as you begin to stroke her hair gently. 

“Tell me about the first time you saw me.” Jessie asked before setting back down against your chest. You let out a small breath, a smile donning your face as she asked you. 

“Well, I was sitting at a party next to the pool…” 

THE END

[messydiabolical]

i’d once read a Mass Effect take that has been stewing in my melon ever since, about Wrex and him demanding a cure for the genophage during the war in 3. (I think it was on twitter but I can’t remember for sure. Just the idea of it stuck with me.) The general sentiment was that this was a dick move on his part, that there were “bigger problems” and this wasn’t the time and it was cruel and manipulative of him to put Shepard in that position. He should have helped out first and Shepard would have helped him back once the war was over. A lot of people chimed in agreeing, saying how they stopped liking Wrex after that. It bothered me for a bunch of reasons I didn’t feel I could adequately articulate, but i’m gonna try now. Prepare for my meandering thought style! The governing bodies of the Mass Effect Galaxy have repeatedly proven that they believe themselves superior to other species and know what’s best for everyone. They don’t let all species have a say in the council, always look out for their own species’ interests in so much as it pertains to keeping things as they are, and will happily go along with literal genocide to aid this. They approve of secret police and biological warfare espionage tactics. They weaponise bureaucracy to hide their cruelty behind ‘oh red tape has us bound, sorry uwu’.   I’m going to try to remain pertinent to the Wrex subject but as one great example of these governing bodies ways of dealing with percieved outsiders: The first contact war is a great example of how ludicrous and fascist things are.. ‘It’s ilegal to use this thing so we’re going to kill you for it’ without so much as a heads up. How were humans supposed to know that, exactly? The governing bodies of this place do not care about anyone outside their own self interests. Fall out of line and they will work to end you. Until you prove you might be useful or of interest to them in some way (or a threat). And then of course we later learn the asari were breaking these laws themselves, hoarding this tech to stay superior. Classic. Anyway, back to Wrex. Wrex knows this. Wrex has seen how the krogan are regarded and treated, the dangerous monolith species, outsiders who can never be let in, never forgiven, never given a chance to grow or change. For a long arse time. “But the krogan were getting out of control and also committing genocide, the genophage was a last ditch resort to stop a galactic war” … And it’s been hundreds of years since then. That 'last ditch resort' wasn’t used as a stop gap, a reset to even out the playing field so that new negotiations and relations could be developed. It was used to end the krogan, and has been actively maintained to continue that, ever since. Do you really, truly believe that if Wrex petitioned the council/ world leaders to negotiate reversing the genophage, they’d even let him have an audience with them? And if they did, do you really think these people, with their history and all the shit they pull, would listen and be reasonable? I can already hear the responses, that weaponised bureaucracy (“you raise an interesting point Mr Wrex but unfortunately we are recovering from a war don’t you know, please come back in 300 years for review, we are very interested in discussing this further then!”) Wrex is old, wise and knows exactly what is up. The only way the governing bodies of power were ever going to have a listen, was if he had something they needed. The war with the reapers provided that. And even then, he knew that they wouldn’t listen outright; having Shepard’s voice was a way to get the foot in the door. It makes my heart hurt to think about that honestly; how dehumanising (dekroganising?) it must feel to be the ruler of your people and know that you have to rely on your alien friend to even get someone to listen to you, when what you want to say is an extremely reasonable “hey committing genoicde against my people sucks, stop that now”. Anyway, Wrex was right, this was his one chance to save his people and he took it. Good for him.

[siriusblackloml]

Day 7 - Tom Riddle (Kinktober 2023)

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩: 1700+

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: swearing, smacking, derogatory terms, oral sex, TOM BEING VERY, VERY TOXIC. LIKE MAD TOXIC BRUH. MDNI (18+)

Kinktober 2023 Masterlist┊Day 8

Never in a million years would you ever intentionally try to do something that would piss off your boyfriend. That is the very last thing you would want to do. Therefore, it should be understood right off the bat that you never, ever meant to upset Tom today. Simply put, you made a small mistake.

Sure, a part of you knew that you were breaking the rules, but it was only meant to be brief. The contract that Tom had you followed in order to keep a clean, pristine relationship between the two of you included many…rules. These rules varied among different topics and areas of intimacy. However, one of the biggest rules that Tom insisted that you followed at all times was that you could never be seen with boys by yourself. It didn’t matter if they were your friend for a few days or even years; he was your boyfriend, therefore he was much more important.

Tom knew that he couldn’t completely separate you from boys at this school, there were literally everywhere you went. However, he figured it looked better if you were only around boys other than himself if you were in a large group with other girls. He has always been such a firm believer that if you were to be seen hanging around boys by yourself that it looks bad on your relationship. It would appear to the remaining students of Hogwarts that you had a lingering eye. Or, in his own words, it would make you look like a whore.

You didn’t want that, of course. But this simple little mistake you made today was never meant to blow up into something so big. You were innocently studying at the library, or at least had been for some time before you realized you were growing hungry. As you were just about to exit the library, a classmate stopped you in the middle of your walk. A boy, whose name you weren’t quite sure you could place, asked you, “Hey, Y/N! Sorry, I don’t mean to bother you, but do you remember how many scrolls long this paper has to be? I can’t remember for the life of me.”

In an instant you stop in your tracks at the question. Turning your head towards the voice, you share a soft smile and respond in a cheerful voice, “Yeah! It’s supposed to be three scrolls long. Good luck with that.”

The boy says, “Thanks, you too! I really can’t stand these papers. They’re such a pain in the ass sometimes.”

This should have been your cue to leave. Then again, you’d been at the library for what felt like hours now. You deserved a quick interaction, and how likely would it be that Tom would be coming in here anytime soon anyway? You take a step towards your classmate and chime in agreement, “Yeah, I totally agree. I have so much trouble trying to get to three scrolls, and I know it’s going to be even worse later in the year when we start getting assigned five scrolls minimum.”

“I’m sure you’ll be fine though. You always do so well on assignments.” He tells you.

In a matter of seconds, your cheeks are tinted pink from the compliment. You appreciate the boost of confidence. Maybe it was dumb that you were so easily flattered by a boy that was clearly not your significant other, however you didn’t seem to care. You liked that he saw you for your talents within the classroom and made sure to tell him such. “Thanks! I really appreciate that.”

“Y/N.” A familiar voice echoes in the library.

Your heart drops instantly. It was as though the air around you was sucked out of your lungs from the sound of your boyfriend catching sight of you breaking the rule. You knew damn well you were in for a punishment later that night, there was no doubt about that. It was unfortunate that he was going to treat you like you had cheated on him when clearly you hadn’t…it was even more unfortunate that the thought of Tom’s cruel, toxic behavior made your panties wet beyond belief.

Later that night, you’re glued to the floor by your knees. Tom’s trousers were already pulled down while his girth was shoved down your throat. Eyes watery, spit pooling from your mouth, you groan around his length as he pummels himself into your wet cavern over and over again. You moan around Tom, “Hmpf! Ah, T-Tom!”

It was perverted the way Tom’s face alters so proudly to see you flail around from the strength of his thrusts. Your hands were holding onto his thighs like it was a lifesaver from the massive blows to your throat. The sensation of your warm tongue licking at his cock makes him groan. Without missing a beat, Tom continues thrusting into your mouth. “Such a dirty girl. You deserve this, Y/N. You deserve to be used after today. Need to make you feel like the whore you are.”

Your hearts rapidly racing like crazy. Despite the disgusting words that spewed from Tom’s lips, you continued to moan around him and attacked his cock with quick motions of your tongue. You were enjoying every moment of this, though. While he could be overbearing sometimes, there was nothing about this situation that was scaring you. If anything, it only turned you on even more.

Your eyes meet Tom’s as you look up at him through wet eyelashes. His grin flickers into something more sinister as he continues to watch you cry over the force of his length. “Such a whore. You can’t even stop yourself for one second, you need the attention of some boy in the library. Wonder what he would think if he saw you now. Choking on my cock like some dumb slut.”

Suddenly, Tom has pulled out his length from your mouth. He smacks the tip against your cheek a few times as a reminder that you are still beneath him, that you’ll always be beneath his power; but that was fine by you. You loved the way he treats you even if it is degrading. You knew you deserved this. Because after all, you’re a dirty whore for sitting alone with a boy that wasn’t your boyfriend.

Coughing from the burning sensation in the back of your throat, you look up at your boyfriend and tell him, “I-I’m sorry, Tom. I really didn’t mean-”

“Get on the bed, now. Hands and knees.” He commands you in a dark voice.

Not wasting another second, you strip off all clothing and get onto the bed without a second thought. The cool air of the bedroom hits your glistening cunt. In the midst of all the dirty talking and face-fucking, Tom had managed to find a way to make you soaked wet. You feel his hands trail along your bare bottom. Goosebumps run up and down your thighs. Tom seems to take note of this behavior and allows his fingers to dig deep into the plumpness of your legs. He squeezes the fat and gives it a quick jiggle, right before pulling his hand back to slap the flesh hard. You yelp out of pain, “Oh, fuck!”

“My naughty whore. You should be able to handle this, right? It’s what you deserve after today.” He says huskily, getting into position between your legs. He smacks your thighs once, twice, multiple times in a row. Your skin stings in pain, red and hot from the blows.

However, you loved every second of it. You know Tom loves it when you apologize, so you continue with your begging. “I’m sorry! I love you, Tom, I do. I only want you and your cock.”

At the mention of his girth, the boy instantly grabs the base of the member. He guides the head of his cock to spread your wet lips, barely grazing your clit. Your entire body shudders and you let out a soft moan. He tells you, “If you really do want me, you’ll have to prove it. Take me like a good girl.”

Looking back at Tom, you stare at him intently as you feel the tip of his member push past your lips and enter your wet hole. You comply immediately to his wants and push back against him so that he can enter you easier. As scary as he sounds, you know you two have a safe word that you could blurt out at any moment if you truly were terrified. Which you weren’t, and he knew this. Without prep, it burned like hell to feel Tom push himself inside you, but felt satisfying nonetheless. Your mouth is open wide as you let out a whine. He inserts himself all the way in, making you gasp loudly. “F-Fuck, Tom. F-Feels so good.”

“That’s fucking right.” He growls, hands finding their ways to your hips. He pulls out and slams inside you harshly, thrusting into your sweet pussy with enough force to make you fall forward onto the bed.

Face pressed against the mattress, you scream loudly. “Yes! YES! Fuck me, you feel so good! Such a big cock!”

You can feel your breasts rock back and forth violently from the intensity of his hips slapping against your bottom so harshly. You can feel his balls slapping against your ass as he continues to fuck you relentlessly. He hammers into your cunt with deep, long strokes and nearly laughs at how hard you squeeze him like a vice. “You’re so damn tight. Damn, I love fucking your pussy.”

You arch your back and can feel your ass ripple from the force of his thrusts. Not long after Tom pistons his cock in and out of your hole, you feel an orgasm rocket through your body and leave you a moaning mess. Juices leak out of you and onto his member, and the sight makes your boyfriend fall apart.

He pounds you into submission, groaning loudly as the knot in his stomach grows tighter and tighter. Tom spanks you with the emphasis of each word, telling you, “Take. My. Fucking. Cum.”

He pulls himself out of your leaking cunt, stroking his cock to spray his warm seed all over your thighs. You sigh blissfully at the feeling of his liquid covering your bottom. It was incredibly hot and made you smile wide. You turn your head to Tom, watching him grin at the artwork he left on your legs. You ask him, “Are we good now?”

He nods his head, wiping sweat from his brow and tells you, “Yes. You did well, honey.”

And that’s all you need to hear to be able to fall asleep happily later that night.

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