#who also helped me through it more than they know

[gotta-winwin]

nana tour seungcheol x reader

a/n: this was a request asking for seungcheol during nana tour - it deviates slightly but i hope it'll still satisfy the itch! we love ourselves a loyal man who knows what's up.

(1)

You supposed Seungcheol not being able to follow his group mates to Italy was a blessing in disguise. Of course, you knew how disappointed he was, watching as he bid farewell to them as they boarded the bus, waving goodbye with a melancholic look on his face. 

“I’m sorry you can’t go.” You mumbled against his shoulder as you leaned against him, looping your arms around his waist, careful not to knock against the crutches on either side of him. “Italy sounds fun.”

Seungcheol had always been the sacrificing type. “It’s okay.” He assured you, pressing his lips against the top of your head as he spoke. “It means I get to spend two weeks concentrated solely on you.” 

(2)

You could tell Seungcheol was taking full advantage of his two week break, trying to do anything and everything he couldn’t with his busy schedule. Lounging on the bed as you watched him game, you couldn’t help but snap a few photos to commemorate the moment. It was rare to see Seungcheol this relaxed, with nowhere to be and nothing pressing to do. He was purely just Seungcheol, your gentle giant of a lover and protector of your heart. 

(3)

Seungcheol makes it his own personal mission to complete your checklist of places you’ve never been with your boyfriend. It doesn’t matter if the two of you will be recognized in public, he’ll rent the damn museum if he has to. The two of you spend the two weeks doing every cringey couple activity Seoul has to offer, as he tries to make up for all the times he’s had to choose work over you.

(4)

You find it hilarious when Na PD calls you instead of Seungcheol for one of his quiz games, quietly shushing the boys on the other line as you flip the camera, Seungcheol asleep with his arms draped over your stomach. He’s snoring away without a care in the world as his members laugh through the screen. You answer whatever silly question they had been given to guess, thanking Na PD for bringing the boys on their first real vacation since debut. 

(5)

You’ve always said that your boyfriend also had a boyfriend. Since you had ever known him, Seungcheol and Jeonghan had always come as a pair. One could not exist or function without the other, this being evident as you would often walk into Seungcheol facetiming his other other half. Jeonghan had also cheekily given you the job of sending him what he deemed as a ‘Cheol selfie’ per day, claiming that it wasn’t fair you get him all to yourself and that he deserves compensation. 

(6)

The night before his members were due to return to Korea, Seungcheol had pulled you aside, distracting you from your book as the two of you laid in bed, the sky outside already a dark shade of blue. 

“You know I love you, right?” He whispered, snaking his arms around your waist like second nature. 

Of course you knew. He never once gave you even a moment to forget. 

“You know I love you more than anything, right?” Seungcheol nosed against your stomach, his face pressed against the bare skin of your waist. “And that I’d quit this job in a heartbeat if you ever asked.”

He knew you’d never ask that of him though. “I started loving you knowing that your job and its odd hours came with you.” You reminded him. “I know what I signed up for.”

“These past two weeks made me realize I want more.” He mumbled. “I don’t want to never be home when we start a family.” 

Your lips curled into a smile, looping your fingers through his hair. “You’ve thought of that?”

Seungcheol nodded against you, tugging you closer. The vows you had made each other, even silently, echoed soundlessly around the two of you. 

Seungcheol would choose you over anything in the world. 

[sideblog-side-b]

I don't live on my reservation nor do I live in the state its in so I miss a lot. But I just found out like-okay let me give some context.

I haven't posted about this a lot because it's been incredibly rough on my family, my mom especially and also because honestly, the internet isnt kind to natives.

I havent even mentioned this except for maybe once or twice on my old blog in fact. But I feel like in honor of my cousin and to showcase how you can push support for MMIW locally and federally, I should do more than just mention her.

I've been so focused on world events and my own mental health that I just saw this news and I'm sobbing. She was my cousin and she deserved so, so much more than she got. She should've raised her baby. Her death shouldn't have been what it was. It shouldn't have been made into a true crime videos.

But her birthday is a holiday after pushes from her family and not just within the tribe, but for her city.

She also has an act that was created in her name to help make sure other indigenous women, girls, and two spirits don't go through the same thing.

More than 4 in 5 indigenous women have been subjected to violence, and Alaska Native women report assault rates 12 times higher than the rest of the U.S. On some reservations, Native women are ten times more likely to be murdered.

[...]

Savanna’s Act clarifies federal, state, tribal and local law enforcement responsibilities with respect to missing or murdered Indians; aims to increase communication and coordination between federal, tribal, state, and local law enforcement agencies; improves tribal access to resources and information such as the federal criminal information databases needed to respond effectively to missing and murdered Indian cases; requires data collection related to missing and murdered Indian people, regardless of where they reside; and directs U.S. attorneys to develop regionally appropriate guidelines for responding to missing or murdered Indians.

All that said, please educate yourself on MMIW. This site is a good starting place. And mark May 5 (the official day of awareness for MMIW) & August 9th on your calendars for me and all the indigenous women who can't use their voices anymore

And for anyone like me who's been waiting for some kind of progress after learning about her, heres an update from just yesterday (Jan 11 2025)

[wendichester]

Can I request cute Dean fluff of him realising he’s in love with you when you take care or save Sam from something bc we all know that man would know he’s found the one when she cares just as much for Sam as he does

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆ 🩹｡˚ aftercare,

summary. taking care of sam is also taking care of dean ‹𝟹

pairing. dean winchester x reader

wordcount. 782

notes. the softest boy sigh

You’re kneeling next to Sam, your hands moving quickly as you press a clean rag against the gash on his arm. The hunt had gone sideways—too many moving parts, too many variables—but you’d managed to keep it from going completely off the rails. Now, the three of you are holed up in a shabby motel room, the faint smell of antiseptic mixing with the metallic tang of blood.

Dean stands a few feet away, his hands gripping the back of a chair, watching as you work. He should be helping, should be doing something, but all he can do is stare. There’s a look of determination on your face, tempered by the kind of gentle care that makes his chest ache.

“Hold still, Sam,” you murmur, your voice soft but firm. “I know it hurts, but this needs to be cleaned.”

Sam winces but doesn’t argue. “I’m fine. It’s not that bad.”

You glance up at him, arching an eyebrow. “Oh, really? Because you’re bleeding all over my jeans.”

Sam chuckles weakly, the sound turning into a hiss of pain as you dab at the wound. “Okay, maybe it’s a little bad.”

Dean’s lips twitch at the corners, but he doesn’t say anything. He’s too busy trying to process the strange, overwhelming warmth blooming in his chest. It’s not like he hasn’t seen you take care of someone before—you’ve patched him up more times than he can count—but this feels different. Watching you with Sam, seeing the way you’re willing to get your hands dirty to keep his brother safe... it does something to him.

“You’re gonna need stitches,” you say, your tone matter-of-fact as you reach for the first aid kit. “Dean, can you grab me the thread and needle?”

He snaps out of his daze, nodding quickly. “Yeah, yeah. Got it.” He rummages through the kit, pulling out the supplies and handing them to you. His fingers brush yours, and for a second, he forgets how to breathe.

You don’t notice—or maybe you do, but you don’t say anything. Instead, you focus on threading the needle, your hands steady despite the tension in the room. “This is gonna sting,” you warn Sam, your voice gentle.

“Just do it,” Sam mutters, bracing himself.

Dean watches as you work, your movements precise but careful. You talk to Sam the whole time, distracting him with small jokes and reassurances, and Dean can see the way his brother relaxes under your touch. It’s like you’ve got this magic about you, this ability to make even the worst situations feel manageable.

When you finally finish, tying off the last stitch, you sit back on your heels and let out a sigh. “There. You’re all patched up. Try not to rip it open again, okay?”

Sam gives you a small smile. “Thanks. You didn’t have to do all that.”

You roll your eyes. “Of course I did. What kind of person would I be if I let you bleed out in a crappy motel room?”

Dean’s heart stumbles in his chest. He can’t remember the last time someone cared about Sam like that—someone who wasn’t him. And it’s not just the act of taking care of him; it’s the way you do it like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Like Sam’s life is just as important to you as it is to him.

You stand up, brushing off your hands, and glance at Dean. “He’ll be fine, but he needs rest. And food. I’m guessing you haven’t eaten since this morning?”

Dean blinks, caught off guard. “Uh... no. Not really.”

You sigh, shaking your head. “Alright, I’ll order something. You two sit tight.”

As you step into the adjoining room to make the call, Dean looks over at Sam. His brother’s eyes are already closing, exhaustion pulling him under, but there’s a faint smile on his face.

When you come back, carrying your phone and rattling off a list of takeout options, Dean feels it hit him like a freight train. This is it. This is love. It’s not just about how he feels when you’re around—it’s about how you make everything better. How you make him better. How you’d do anything for Sam, the way he would.

You catch him staring and raise an eyebrow. “What?”

Dean shakes his head, a slow, disbelieving smile spreading across his face. “Nothing,” he says, his voice warm. “Just... thanks. For everything.”

Your expression softens, and you give him a small smile in return. “Always.”

Dean watches you for a moment longer, the realization settling deep in his bones. He’s in love with you. And if he’s honest, he doesn’t think he ever stood a chance.

want be part of the taglist.ᐣ ⋆.˚ ★— @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing ⋆ @deans-daydream ⋆ @ariasong11 ⋆ @ambiguous-avery ⋆ @krabog ⋆ @itsdearapril ⋆ @nymphet-quenn ⋆ @bluemerakis ⋆ @titsout4jackles ⋆ @lyarr24 ⋆ @hauntedrose555 ⋆ @chevroletdean ⋆ @dulcescorderitas

[zepskies]

Headcanon: Body Insecurity/Appreciation

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Reader, Beau Arlen x Reader, Soldier Boy/Ben x Reader

AN: This one was requested by one of my lovely Patreon members, @roseblue373. 💜 It's a special one to me personally, being plus-sized myself and having gone through my share of insecurities. Wish I had one of these guys to make it better lol!~

Prompt/Request: Great job with the latest Dean/Beau/Ben reacts vignettes! I'd love to see one where reader has put on weight and isn't happy with their body, and how each would make her feel better!! IF the muse agrees, of course! ❤️

HC: How Dean Winchester, Beau Arlen and Soldier Boy (Ben) would react to your body insecurity.

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Established relationship, body insecurity (but also body appreciation), thicc thirty, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, spiciness/smuttishness.

Dean Winchester

You've started breezing past mirrors when you get out of the shower.

Because if you catch sight of your own reflection, you can't help but utter a sigh, your lips dipping into a frown.

In the privacy of the room you share with Dean in the bunker, you take a risk in unwrapping the towel from your body in front of the mirror.

You inspect yourself with growing dejection, noting all the places that are rounder, heavier, less firm than they used to be.

Looks like no amount of running down leads and killing monsters has been enough to keep you in shape.

Too much shitty fast food, too many times you indulged yourself with snacks and dessert alongside your foodie boyfriend.

"What'cha doin', sweetheart?" Dean asks. He steps into the room while wiping donut icing from the corner of his mouth.

Speak of the devil.

When Dean finally catches you frowning at yourself in the mirror, you inhale sharply and close the towel back up.

"Nothing. Just need to get dressed," you reply quickly. "Shower's open."

You try to offer him a smile, despite the pang of jealousy when you eye him.

He gave you the first chance at the shower after the latest case wrapped up, so he's still wearing most of his FBI suit, sans jacket. The white dress shirt is rolled up to his elbows, a few days of scruff neatly trimmed across his cheeks.

The man can cram an entire pizza down his gullet and wash it down with three slices of apple pie, not to mention countless beers. And still, Dean stays looking downright edible.

By comparison, you feel...fat. Like you've let yourself go.

You turn away from him to grab your well-worn sweatpants and an oversized shirt; you plan to change alone in the bathroom, but Dean grabs your arm.

"Who says you need to get dressed?" he says, popping his brows with a suggestive grin. He slips his arms around your waist, but your instinct is to shy away from his hold. You chuckle awkwardly and avoid his now curious gaze.

"Sorry, babe. Um...I'm wiped. I just want to get to bed," you say.

But Dean isn't fooled. His spidey sense is tingling, and his gut is almost never wrong.

His hand slides down your arm and grasps your hand, tugging you back into his arms. You utter a little gasp, but you ultimately smile at his familiar grin. There's a perceptive gleam in his eyes though.

"You know, seems like you've been pretty wiped lately," he says, raising a brow. "It's been a while since we, uh..."

He waggles his brows playfully, squeezing your hips. You want to smile, but you can't let yourself. You can't quite look at him either.

For Dean, it's another glaring red flag. His lips form a frown, and he dips his chin to find your eyes.

"Hey," he says. "What's goin' on? Talk to me."

His tone is so sincere, you have to blink against the sting of tears. Your lower lip wobbles, and Dean frowns in earnest. He presses a hand to your cheek and gets you to look at him with your watery eyes.

"Sweetheart, you gotta tell me what's wrong," he says, more gently, but serious.

Eventually, you're able to get it out. You can't bear the thought of him touching you, because lately, you can't even bear looking at yourself.

"I know I've been gaining weight, I just..." your voice breaks, and you gesture haphazardly at your body. "I'd get it if you're not really into this right now."

Dean's heart clenches. He's downright shocked at your confession, and more than a little disheartened. He presses a hand to your cheek and guides you to look at him.

"All right, hold up just one damn minute."

His calloused fingers gently brush away your tears, but his hands keep moving, slowly traveling down your body. They slide down your bare arms, skimming the sides of your breasts.

Your breath hitches. Your hand is still fisted over your beating heart, keeping your towel closed. His hands continue to move, molding to the curve of your waist over the fuzzy fabric.

"I'll admit, we've been pretty busy lately with everything we've got going on. But if you think that means I'm ever not into this delectable, sexy, voluptuous, goddess body you got rockin' the house?" he says, grinning that utterly Dean grin of his.

You bite your lip against a bubble of laughter. He's too fucking much sometimes.

Dean tugs you closer, until your hips fit snugly against his through his slacks. His tall, broad frame crowds you. His lips skim your cheek, then over your lips in a tease.

He squeezes the flesh of your hips, tender and sensuous.

Your heart flutters at the feeling.

"Mmm, I like you nice and soft," he murmurs against your cheek, close to your ear. "Feels that much better when I fuck you."

A small gasp gets trapped in your throat, while the gravel depths in his voice go straight to your pussy in a pulsing throb of warmth.

By the time he claims your lips in a devouring kiss, you're all too willing to let him peel your towel open, drop it to the floor, and guide you backwards onto the bed.

There he'll take his time, forging yet another mental map of every plush square inch of you.

Beau Arlen

Beau is a busy man. You understand that.

As Sheriff, his job demands a lot from him. He's also a father and has an ex-wife to contend with. (You knew that going in, and you've come to love Emily too.)

However, you can't help but start to take it personally when your sex life begins to suffer. He's often claimed being tired...but there's another suspicion that's been taking root in your mind, feeding your doubts and insecurities about how your boyfriend sees you, and about how you see yourself.

When you slip into bed at night, a kiss goodnight is all he gives you lately, before he's sighing deeply and closing his eyes, his soft snores soon filling the room.

One night, you try touching his shoulder, leaning in to kiss his bearded cheek. He hums at the pleasant feeling.

"You wanna...?" You trail the question in his ear, pressing more sweet kisses down his neck.

"Aw, sweetheart," he groans. "I'd like to, but I think I'd just smother you. I'm about to pass out."

You huff a laugh. You teasingly walk two fingers across his chest. "What if I make it easy for you?"

You shift onto your side. Resting a hand on his chest, you lean down to kiss him. He hums at the softness of it, but the more passion you try to imbue into each new kiss, Beau isn't as responsive as you would like. Eventually, you stop all together.

You frown, becoming disheartened. "You're not into this, I guess."

He opens his tired eyes, gazes up at you in apology. He opens his mouth to reply, but you beat him to it.

"You know it's been a month since we've had sex," you say.

Beau frowns, sliding a hand up your back. Only now does he notice, with appreciation, the familiar silky négligée you're wearing.

"Nah, that doesn't sound right," he says.

"Well, it is," you say. "I know you say you're tired, but I mean, you've had this job for as long as I've known you, Beau." Your eyes fall away from him. "So is the job, or...is it me?"

Beau's brows furrow. "Now wait a minute."

The mere thought dredges up what's been plaguing your mind recently, and it has your throat tightening. Tears of embarrassment and upset well up in your eyes, no matter how much you try to push it down.

You push away from him and turn away, crossing your arms. You try not to look at yourself in what used to be your favorite lingerie.

You can't stand the extra weight you've put on, mostly in your hips and ass, but in your middle and arms too.

You've gone through your own stress at work this year, with less and less time to try and take care of yourself, along with making sure Emily gets to and from school, cooking for the three of you, going to PTA meetings when Carla can't make it (since Beau often can't), and every other proverbial hat you wear.

Beau follows you, sitting up and laying a hand on your back. "Sweetheart--"

"I know I've put on a few. Hell, more than a few," you admit, hastily wiping under your eyes. "God, I can't even look at myself right now, let alone have you--"

"Hey. You stop right there," Beau says, more firmly. He gets you to turn around with his hand on your shoulder. He doesn't like the way you're curled in on yourself, as if hiding your body from his gaze.

That, and the sight of your tears damn well break his heart.

He cups the side of your face gently and presses a tender kiss to your forehead, followed closely by your lips.

You don't want to melt, but you just can't help it. You cling to the front of his shirt and lean into his kiss, like you've been lost in the desert, and his lips hold the breath of life.

You almost don't realize it when his arms slip around your waist. He earns a surprised yelp from you when he gathers you close against his chest and rolls you underneath him.

You land against the pillows in a huff. You stare up at his playful smile, his green eyes glinting with amusement, with fondness, and also with desire as they roam over your breasts, barely contained by dark green satin and lace.

"I've been neglecting you, haven't I?" he says. His voice is a low, earthy drawl as his gaze rakes over you. His big hand runs down your side and over your hip, then down your bare thigh, squeezing soft, tender flesh. He slips that hand under the satin night gown.

His hand can't span your entire thigh, but it's not for lack of trying. Your heart beats a staccato rhythm at the way he looks at you, your breath hitching when his thumb dips between your legs, brushing against the damp, silky fabric of your panties.

"It's not because I don't find you sexy as hell. Believe me, darlin', I do," he says. "You're so fuckin' beautiful, especially when you're all laid out for me here."

And he means what he says. You know it by the hardness you feel pressing against your hip. You slip your fingers into his hair with a sigh.

He bows his head to press kisses along your neck; down and down, he noses at the thin strap of your night gown. His path of kisses continue, and he indulges himself by dipping his tongue between the valley of your breasts.

"Filling out this lacy little thing so nice," he murmurs into your skin.

Your upset has turned to abject relief, but you still have to blink away the remaining urge to cry.

You let out a slightly tremulous breath.

"Oh, yeah?" you ask.

Beau pauses. He pulls away, just so he can look up and meet your eyes. He still finds insecurity in yours, so he meets you with a kiss filled with heat and intent.

He's now wide awake. He plans to take his sweet time taking you apart, inch by inch.

In fact, in the back of his mind, he also plans to do better about letting his deputies help him out more at the precint so he can have a better work-life balance.

(Because going a whole damn month without the taste of you is "no bueno," in his words.)

Soldier Boy (Ben)

The man may not be very patient, or particularly perceptive, but he's not an idiot.

At least, not about sex.

He knows that you've been feigning tiredness, and generally avoiding his touch.

What's strange is that you haven't been avoiding him. You still cook for him, still share conversation with him, still insist on having him spoon you on the couch while catching him up on the past four decades of TV shows and movies.

But when he begins to sneak a hand under your oversized shirt (an old one of Ben's), caressing your hip, then dipping down to your softer stomach on the way to your panties, breaking your concentration from the movie as unease laces down your spine.

You grab his wrist on reflex, instead lacing your fingers together.

"What's the matter now?" he asks.

You look over your shoulder at him and find him frowning at you, a divot between his brows. You don't manage to hold his gaze for long.

"Sorry," you say quietly. "I'm just, um, tired."

Ben doesn't believe you, and he's direct when he calls you out on it.

Reluctant to put what you've been feeling into words, you pause the movie and leave the couch (and him) behind.

Ben is annoyed enough to follow you (and underneath, he hides an edge of concern). The conflict leads into the bedroom, where you're still unwilling to open up.

He finally stops you from walking away from him, pinning you against the dresser by your hips. He practically looms over you as he demands an answer. He knows you're hiding something — something that's had you reluctant to let him touch you.

"Is there something you wanna tell me?" he says, a raw edge of warning in his tone. "What, are you fucking somebody else?"

Shock flashes in your eyes, making you angry. "What? No!"

"Well, you seem to be getting your fill somewhere, and it hasn't been from me--"

"Are you fucking serious? I'm not..." Your lips purse. You're actually hurt that he would hurl that accusation your way--and it couldn't be farther from the truth.

You tug your long shirt downwards and cross your arms, but it's more like you're hugging yourself, shielding your body away.

Ben's brows furrow a little bit more.

Eventually you get it out; you haven't been feeling up to being intimate because you're having a hard time even looking at yourself lately.

"I know I need to, um, get back in shape," you say, taking in a shaky breath to try and steady yourself. Your throat constricts, the beginnings of tears stinging your eyes. You want to look at anywhere but at Ben. "I just haven't had much time, with everything going on. But Annie gave me this guide on some different diets, like intermittent fasting, Keto--"

"Fasting," Ben intones. "What, you wanna fucking starve yourself? What the fuck is Keto?"

You sigh, barely resisting the urge to roll your eyes.

"No, not starve myself. And Keto's just..." The idea of trying to explain the new diet craze to your boyfriend is too daunting a task to consider. "Never mind. The point is, I have a plan. My hips, my thighs, my ass--"

Ben squeezes your hips at the mention of them. He happens to like the softness.

"Yeah, you've got a little extra. So fucking what?" he says, his voice deep and exacting as his gaze roams over your body. "Just gives me more to hold onto when I'm fucking you."

You utter a shocked laugh. "Ben!"

He grins lazily, and he turns you this way and that, admiring you from all angles. In his eyes, he doesn't find a side he doesn't like. You can't help but blush hotly under his gaze.

"Sweetheart, do whatever you want if it makes you feel good. But you don't need to starve yourself." His hands move to your ass, squeezing a bit harder on the plush flesh.

A yelp escapes you; he's pressing into you from the front as well, and you feel him heavy and already half-hard against you. You grab onto his arms for stability as your breaths quicken.

His attitude kind of surprises you, even though it soothes the frayed, insecure part of your soul that wants to be as beautiful and attractive in his eyes as he is in yours.

Ben is literally a super soldier. You're actually kind of jealous. The man can drug and booze hard and eat whatever the hell he wants, but his super metabolism just seems to absorb it into his washboard abs.

(The more you think about it, the more you want to smack him.)

Nothing about him isn't hard and lean, muscle and strength.

Only his hands have a measure of gentleless when they're holding you like this.

"I've just got so many stretch marks now," you begin to complain, in an emotional whisper.

He snorts. "And? You think it's anything I haven't seen? I'm not afraid of a little cellulite either."

At that, your head tilts in consideration. Butcher's Granny Fucker remark comes to mind. You bite your lip against a smirk.

Ben crooks a curled finger under your chin. He guides you to meet his eyes, before he lures you into a lusty kiss.

It's somewhat rough because of his beard, but you still smile afterwards, leaning against him now.

"Ain't nothing about you that I can't handle," he adds, all smirking and cocky. To prove his point, he hooks those strong hands behind your thighs and lifts you onto the dresser.

You gasp and cling to his shoulders. From there, he makes quick work of ridding the oversized shirt from your body, revealing you to the cool air and his hot gaze.

You take his face in your hands and bring him in for an even steamier kiss, your heart lighter and trembling with anticipation.

You've held yourself from him long enough, Ben thinks, and he has every intention of devouring you right on your old dresser -- before you two even get to the bed.

AN: 😮‍💨 I feel like each of these could've been even longer with their own one-shot loll. I wrote the Midnight Espresso-verse for Dean, partially to explore what his relationship would be like with a plus-sized reader. 💖💖

Let me know which one you liked most this time!

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[ptergwen]

im not sure if you’ll see this😭 but can i have reader being like maddy from euphoria, confident, bad bitch, short skirts and she’s dating peter and they have this secret relationship cuz shes popular and hes not so they both go to a party and makes out in the restroom and comes out together and then flash is making fun of them and then she just kisses peter right in front of everyone (im so srry this is long but i hope u see this

out of sight, on his mind ‎♡‧₊˚

ask box  |  taglist  |  blurb masterlist  |  main masterlist

w/c: ?

warnings: making out, suggestiveness, drinking, like one swear

a/n: oh i looooved this idea thank you very much for your service babes :D also don't forget to join my new taglist y'all i only got a couple of you so far & happy reading!

you down a shooter, gagging at the bitter taste of the alcohol. you giggle and stick the tiny bottle in your bra. you're dancing with a group of your friends. one of them takes your hand, the two of you moving to the beat of the music. peter watches you from across the room with the hint of a smile.

he wouldn't typically spend his friday night in the corner of a packed houseparty nursing a cup of jungle juice, but ned insisted they go. his best friend is determined they both up their social statuses this year. they're not too popular at midtown, with the exception of the academic decathlon team.

if people only knew peter was dating one of the most popular girls in school; you.

it was peter's idea to keep your relationship secret. you'd wanted to show him off, but he's too shy. you're always the center of attention, and peter parker doesn't do well with attention. he'd much rather admire you with everyone else in public and be yours in private.

"come on, peter! it's a party! shouldn't we be, like, dancing or something?"

"i don't know, ned. just... drink your juice."

ned takes a generous swig of his drink and cringes. peter chuckles, sipping from his cup.

"what's in jungle juice anyway?"

"um, everything i think. you might blackout if you have too much."

"dude, that's the goal."

you catch peter's eye again. you're holding your friend's arm that's wrapped around your shoulders, hips swaying. you shout along to the music with the rest of the girls in your group. you look so carefree, and so damn good.

the pink, strapless dress you're wearing is hugging your body in all the right places. your hair is styled to perfection, tiny gems dotted along your eyelids. your look is complete with a pair of knee high boots. peter loves your style. there's no way to describe it other than that it's you, who peter adores an insane amount. he wishes he could be as bold as you are.

peter's phone vibrates in his pocket; it's a text from you.

are u watching me?

before he even answers, you send another.

come to the bathroom

peter briefly locks eyes with you. you give him a mischievous smile before slipping away, making some excuse to your friends. he bites his lip to suppress his own grin.

"hey, ned? how about i go get us some refills?"

"bet! i’m gonna dance."

ned hands peter his cup and claps him on the shoulder, disappearing into the crowd. instead of refilling their drinks, peter makes his way to the bathroom. there's a few people waiting in line. knowing you, you've already claimed it from them. he knocks at the door. a hand reaches out and grabs at peter's flannel, pulling him inside.

"hi, baby."

your glossy lips capture peter's in a kiss. he instantly leans into it, but you pull back much to his dismay. his big brown eyes go even bigger.

"woah... hi."

you laugh softly.

"miss me?"

"seems like you missed me too."

"maybe."

you run a hand through peter's hair. his hands settle on your hips.

"sorry for watching you, couldn't help it. you look so pretty tonight."

"i always look pretty."

your tone is playful, but peter knows you mean it, and he couldn't agree more.

"whatcha been up to? you having fun?"

your manicured nails scratch lightly at peter's scalp. he practically purrs at the feeling.

"mm, just been hanging with ned. i don't really know anybody else."

"you know me."

"but you're with your friends."

"so?"

"so... you know i’m shy, princess."

you giggle.

"it's just 'cause you're not drunk enough, baby."

"oh yeah?"

peter's thumbs run up and down your sides, face only inches from yours. you retrieve the shooter from your bra. there's still at least half a shot left.

"open."

peter does as you say and opens his mouth. you take his chin between your fingers and tilt his head back, pouring the rest of the strong, sweet liquid down his throat. he swallows. you toss the bottle aside. peter gives you a look, one that says kiss me. you shake your head, smirking.

you want him to kiss you.

peter's lips smash into yours. his eagerness makes you giggle into the kiss. you grip the collar of his shirt in both hands, lips moving slowly against each other's. peter backs you against the door.

"did i already tell you how pretty you look?"

"mhm, but not enough."

"you're right. you're so pretty."

peter kisses down your neck, breathing in the scent of your perfume. you guide his lips back up to yours.

"you are too, y'know."

you peck peter's lips softly, letting your lips linger over his after, eyes searching his. they twinkle. you mesmerize him, truly mesmerize him. you kiss an awe-struck peter properly this time. he holds your waist, head tilted to deepen the kiss.

your make out session is rudely interrupted by someone knocking on the door.

"yeah, one second!" you answer. "let's get out of here."

peter groans and buries his face in your neck.

"but i don't want to. wanna keep kissing you."

"not here, baby."

"why not?"

he leaves more kisses on your neck. you coax peter away, laughing, his arms still wrapped tight around you.

"the line. wanna find somewhere else?"

peter perks up at that.

"okay, let's go."

you lead peter out of the bathroom. he follows, hand in yours. even though no one seems to pay any mind to the fact that you were in the bathroom together, peter can't help but blush. he doesn't make it out unscathed, though; none other than flash thompson notices him.

"penis parker, is that you?"

you stop walking, eyeing flash over your shoulder. peter lets out an exasperated sigh.

"what's up, flash?"

"you are."

peter looks down to see an obvious bulge in his jeans. his cheeks burn hotter, hand leaving yours to readjust himself. a few people turn around to look.

"y/n's a big step up from your imaginary girlfriend. where'd you say she was from again, canada?"

you narrow your eyes at flash, a hand wrapping around peter's bicep.

"do you know him?"

"yeah, we're... friends. sort of. we do academic decathlon together."

your gaze shifts to peter.

"friends?"

"oh yeah, we go way back. any friend of parker's is a friend of mine."

flash smirks at you. you look him up and down, face scrunched in disgust.

"ew."

more people are starting to watch the exchange. you glare at flash, who holds your gaze knowingly. peter can tell you're about to go into protective girlfriend mode. he squeezes your hand that's on his arm.

"anyways, just wanted to congratulate you on your first baddie," flash tells him. "try not to fumble."

before peter can process what's happening, your lips are on his, hands cupping his cheeks to keep him in place. maybe it's just because he's tipsy, but peter actually finds himself having the courage to kiss you back in front of everyone. you smile at this. he holds you by your waist, letting himself enjoy the kiss for a while longer.

peter's lips are puffy and covered in your gloss when you two pull apart. he draws you in closer to himself, giving you one more short kiss, then another. the two of you earn whistles and chatter from everyone watching. you giggle, thumbs caressing peter's cheeks and gaze meeting his.

there's something in his eyes that you haven't seen before; confidence. he might be shy, but not when it comes to you. not anymore.

you look over at flash smugly, his mouth dropped open.

"he won't."

tags (join my new taglist!)

@spidermans-gf @sacharinee

[cowboycherry]

🍒 :; slim pickins

summary!

bf! rafe x chubby! reader. you’ve been seeing the ‘slim pickins’ trend going around, and you beg your boyfriend to do it with you.

inclusions/warnings!

fluffy, fluffy, fluffy!! reading through it, i think it’s a bit rushed?? rafe is a cutie and loves his girlfriend. reader is referred to as ‘baby’ and ‘mama’. slightly suggestive at the end. reader is chubby and NOT insecure bc we love self confidence round in these parts. just a little itty bitty blurb bc i’ve been seeing so many people do this trend and it makes me want rafe to do it w me

word count!

400+

ˏ`୭̥*ೃ author’s note! :; dropping this before i finish editing a request for a sebastian stan fic! super excited for that, but have this fluffy rafe blurb for meantime. (also, i’m making a tag list since i’m going to start writing more, so if you want to be added to that lmk! you can request to only be added to certain fics and such, just lmk what you want, angels.)

i love you, and thank you for being here ♡

“raaafe,” you pout at your boyfriend, tugging on his bicep in a poor attempt to make him stand in front of your propped up phone. “it’s easy! already explained it t’you— you just gotta pick me up and, like, sit me on your shoulder.”

rafe glances down at your hands tugging his arm, an amused smile on his face even though he doesn’t want it to be there. he just can’t help it. “yeah, baby, and i told you that i don’t wanna be in any of your lil tiktoks,” he snorts, but he allows you to pull him in front of your phone.

“but it’s a couple’s trend! well, for the most part,” you hum to yourself, eagerly stepping away to get the timer ready. “okay, the lyrics are ‘a boy who’s jacked and kind’ and you’re just s’posed to lift me somewhere while she’s singing that,” you explain animatedly, definitely rambling more than is necessary.

“uh huh. got it,” rafe nods once, and even though he looks much less enthusiastic than you are, he’s still happy that he’s making you happy.

you start the timer, quickly padding back across the hardwood floor to him and standing in front of him. “three, two…” you count down quietly, more for yourself, and then mouth the lyrics along to sabrina carpenter’s voice.

you’re unable to stop the squeal that escapes you when rafe effortlessly grips your hips, hoisting you up and perching you onto his shoulder like it’s nothing. his hand moves to comfortably rest on your thigh, gently squeezing the flesh there.

the tiktok is done filming, the video playing back on a loop as giggles bubble past your lips- both from being a little flustered by your very attractive boyfriend and from awe that he didn’t seem strained in the slightest. “i didn’t expect for you to do that so easily,” you admit softly, your hand resting on top of his.

rafe scoffs, “the fuck does that mean?” he asks you, but you can hear the playfulness, the teasing in his tone. “think i’m weak or somethin’, mama?” he grips your hips again, but instead of planting your feet back onto the ground, he drops you onto the couch.

“rafe?” you murmur in confusion before shrieking when his fingers start to dance over your ribs.

“can’t believe it. my baby doesn’t think i can fuckin’ lift her,” rafe tsks in mock disappointment. “guess i need to start showin’ you better, huh?” he grins mischievously down at you, leaning in and starting to press kisses from your face down your neck, and you know you’re in for a long afternoon.

© cowboycherry 2025 — all rights reserved. do not modify, repost, translate, or plagiarize my content. all work is my own, and until further notice, will be proofread by only myself.

[megumismyhusband]

Heyo! Just saw your recent post and could u kindly do sassy blue lock men and a sassier s/o 🥺 imagine them just bantering 24/7

heloo!! i love this request oh em gee😖 also if u want more don’t be afraid to ask!!!

Isagi

You sat across from Isagi at a café, both sipping your drinks. He looked up, eyebrows raised, as you scrolled through your phone.

“You’re not even paying attention to me,” he said, mock-offended.

“Maybe because you’re not interesting,” you replied without missing a beat.

“Excuse me? I’m literally the most interesting person you know.”

“You think ‘Yoichi Isagi, professional soccer player’ is a personality?” you shot back, smirking.

He gawked at you, then leaned back in his chair with a dramatic sigh. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet here you are, sitting with me instead of practicing.”

“Okay, you win this one,” he muttered, hiding his grin behind his coffee cup.

“Like I ever lose,” you teased, sticking out your tongue.

Rin

“You know, for someone who says they hate distractions, you sure let me ruin your focus all the time,” you said, leaning casually against the wall of Rin’s training room.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Rin replied, not even looking up as he wiped sweat off his brow. “You’re more like… background noise.”

“Wow, it must be exhausting being this delusional,” you said with a mock-pitying tone.

He finally looked at you, eyes narrowed. “You’re the one who barged in here just to talk. What does that say about you?”

“That you secretly enjoy my company but are too emotionally stunted to admit it,” you replied with a grin.

Rin stared at you for a moment, then clicked his tongue. “You’re so annoying.”

“And you’re so predictable,” you shot back. “Now hurry up. I’m bored, and you owe me dinner.”

Nagi

You were trying to tidy up the living room when you tripped over something—Nagi’s ridiculously long limbs, sprawled across the floor as he napped.

“Seishiro!” you shouted, poking him with your foot.

“Hm? What?” he mumbled, barely opening his eyes.

“You’re literally in the middle of the room! Why are you like this?”

“It’s comfy,” he said, turning onto his side. “Why are you yelling so much? You’re so noisy.”

“You’re so lazy!” you retorted, picking up a pillow and tossing it at him.

He caught it effortlessly, smirking. “Lazy, but still better at everything than you.”

“Oh, really? Try being better at cleaning.”

“Pass.”

“You’re impossible,” you muttered, plopping down beside him.

“And yet, you’re still here,” he teased, reaching over to tug you closer.

Chigiri

Chigiri sat in front of the mirror, meticulously braiding his hair while you watched from the bed.

“You spend more time in front of that mirror than I do in a day,” you quipped, lying back with your hands behind your head.

“And it shows,” he fired back without missing a beat.

You gasped, sitting up. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Your hair’s always a mess. Just saying,” he said with a smirk, glancing at you in the mirror.

“At least I don’t cry if the wind ruins my ponytail,” you shot back, grinning.

“That happened once,” he snapped, turning to face you.

“And I’ll never let you live it down,” you said, sticking out your tongue.

“Fine. But don’t ask me to braid your hair ever again,” he huffed, turning back to the mirror.

“Please, you’ll do it anyway. You can’t resist my charm.”

“Debatable,” he muttered, though his smirk betrayed him.

Kunigami

You stood in the kitchen, staring down Kunigami as he tried to help you cook. He was currently holding a knife completely wrong.

“That’s not how you chop an onion,” you said, raising an eyebrow.

“Does it matter? It’s getting chopped,” he replied, slicing unevenly.

“Yes, it matters! Are you trying to lose a finger?”

He stopped, looking at you. “Relax. I’ve been through worse on the field.”

“And yet, here you are, losing to an onion,” you teased.

Kunigami groaned but handed you the knife. “Fine. Show me how it’s done, Master Chef.”

You grabbed the knife and quickly chopped the onion into perfect pieces. “See? It’s not that hard.”

He watched, arms crossed, before muttering, “Show-off.”

“Admit it. You’d starve without me.”

“Maybe,” he said with a sly grin. “But I could live off takeout just to prove you wrong.”

Bachira

“Bet you can’t score on me,” Bachira said, holding a soccer ball and grinning mischievously.

“Bet I can,” you shot back, hands on your hips.

“You? Miss ‘I trip over air’? Okay, try.”

You glared at him but took the ball, dribbling it toward the makeshift goal. He blocked every attempt, laughing like a maniac the whole time.

“You’re so bad at this!” he teased, dancing away with the ball.

“At least I don’t look like a hyperactive squirrel on the field,” you snapped, smirking.

“Sassy! I like it,” he said, tossing the ball aside and pulling you into a hug. “But you still lost.”

“Only because you cheat,” you grumbled, burying your face in his chest.

“And you still love me!” he said, spinning you around.

“Unfortunately,” you muttered, but your smile gave you away.

[zozosrozo]

in the dark (part 1)

Se-mi x reader

part two

this one is dedicated to my bsf, who’s obsessed with Se-mi

ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧

"Señorita, huh? What an idiot," Se-mi scoffed.

You were both sitting on one of the metal bunk beds crammed into the common room. The air was heavy with the scent of sweat and fear, a reminder of how many lives had been lost during the last game. Around you, other players were either huddled in small groups, whispering anxiously, or lying silently on their beds, too drained to speak.

Somehow, you had survived again. And somehow, you had also gained… a new friend? You weren’t entirely sure how it had happened. While you were frantically trying to find a group before the game started, a pretty girl had approached you, her voice calm despite the chaos. "Mind if I join you?" she’d asked, and you had accepted her without even thinking.

Now, as you sat across from her, you couldn’t help but steal glances at her. There was something magnetic about Se-mi. Her sharp features, the way her jet-black hair fell loosely around her face, and those piercing eyes that seemed to see right through you—all of it left you in awe.

It makes you couldn’t quite decide if you wanted to be her or be with her. The thought made your stomach churn, and you quickly pushed it aside, unsure if it was the tension of the games or something deeper stirring within you.

"Heeey? Are you even listening to me?" Se-mi waved her hand in front of your face, an amused smile playing on her lips.

You felt your cheeks heat up as you stared at her blankly, struggling to think of how to respond.

Her smirk only deepened as she leaned in closer, her voice dropping slightly. "What’s the matter? Am I making you shy?" she asked, tilting her head with an almost playful curiosity.

You opened your mouth to deny it, but no sound came out. The way her eyes lingered on yours made it impossible to think straight.

Se-mi chuckled softly, leaning back just enough to give you space. "Don’t worry, it’s cute. I like it when you get all flustered like that," she said, her tone as casual as if she were talking about the weather. "But try to keep up, okay? I’d hate to lose an adorable teammate like u”.

“Is she flirting with me?” u thought to yourself. You weren’t sure if you were reading too much into her words or if Se-mi was deliberately toying with you.

"I-I’m not flustered," you finally managed to stammer, but your shaky voice betrayed you completely.

Se-mi raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced, and her smirk returned in full force. "Oh, really? Then why are you blushing so much, huh?" She leaned forward slightly, resting her chin on her hand as she studied you, her eyes glinting with amusement.

You glanced away, desperate to change the subject, but the way she was looking at you made it impossible to focus on anything else. "I-it's just hot in here," you mumbled, although the cold, unwelcoming air of the common room was anything but.

Se-mi let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. "Sure, sure. Whatever you say," she teased.

"You know, you’re kind of fun to mess with. It’s a good distraction from all this… chaos."

Her words hung in the air for a moment, and you realized that, despite her playful tone, there was a hint of something more in her voice—something softer, almost vulnerable.

Before you could respond, she straightened up, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. "Anyway, we should probably figure out what’s next," she said casually, though her gaze lingered on you just a little longer than necessary. "I’m not planning on dying anytime soon, and I’d rather not do it alone. You’ll stick with me, right?"

The question caught you off guard, but there was no denying the warmth in her voice, even if it was buried beneath her usual confidence.

"Yeah," you replied softly, surprising yourself with how certain you sounded. "I’ll stick with you."

Se-mi grinned, satisfied. "Good. You’re smarter than you look, cutie."

A voice echoed from the speakers mounted on the ceilings, announcing that the lights would be turned off in five minutes, signaling the start of nighttime.

Players began retreating to their beds. You noticed a group that had set up some sort of "base," huddled together in one corner and using mattresses as barricades. Were they being paranoid, or did they know something you didn’t?

Could something really happen during the night? The thought sent a shiver down your spine. You glanced around the room, suddenly hyperaware of the tense atmosphere. Whispers filled the air, some players exchanging nervous glances while others silently adjusted their positions, keeping their backs against the walls.

Se-mi seemed unbothered—or at least she hid it well. She stretched her arms lazily before leaning back against the cold metal of the bunk bed.

"You don’t think…" you hesitated, lowering your voice to a whisper, "…someone might try something, do you? Tonight?"

“Hmm…” Se-mi glanced around the room, her eyes briefly scanning the other players.
“Nah,” she said at last, her voice laced with a mix of amusement and indifference. “They don’t have the balls to do anything outside the games.”

Her casual dismissal didn’t sit right with you. “Oh, okay,” you mumbled, but the unease in your chest only grew.

You’d seen what these people were capable of. Especially that purple-haired maniac. He was killing people in the games like it was nothing. Even worse he seems to had fun doing it. It made your skin crawl. What was stopping someone like him from doing it again now, in the dark, where there were no rules?

Se-mi must have noticed the way your hands fidgeted nervously, or maybe it was the faraway look in your eyes. “Hey…” she said softly, moving closer to you.

Before you could react, her hand was on your cheek, her touch gentle yet steady, grounding you in the moment. “It’s gonna be okay,” she murmured, her voice softer than you’d ever heard it. “Just stay close to me, alright?”

Her thumb brushed lightly against your skin, and your breath hitched. The simple gesture, so unexpected and tender, made your heart flutter in a way you couldn’t ignore.

For a moment, the tension in the room faded into the background. All you could focus on was her—the warmth of her hand, the way her eyes held yours, and the faint trace of a smile tugging at her lips.

[ice-man-goes-bwoah]

Match maker||Franco colapinto x fem!norris!reader

Summary — Lando takes Franco under his wing and sets him up with his sister

Word count— 2826

A/n another one form my old account

“You did what?!” You asked your brother Lando who stood on the other side of the kitchen bar scratching the back of his neck sheepishly.

“Invited Franco over for dinner,” Lando repeated.

“I get that but why? And why to my apartment?” You asked, looking at him.

“Because I want the guy to know that he has a friend. F1 is lonely sometimes and your apartment is more homey than mine” Lando said as a matter of fact.

“Lando my apartment is a mess, look at the state of the place,” you said gesturing around the apartment.

Lando looked around your apartment looking for the so-called mess. The only thing he saw was the cat toys striding all over the floor and a couple of yellow dying leaves on one of your plants. Raising an eyebrow he looked at you skeptically holding up a finger as if he was saying one second.

You watched as he picked up the cat toys and tossed them into the basket before turning his attention to prune your plant gently taking off the yellow leaves.

“They're all clean,” Lando said, smiling proud of himself.

You couldn't help but smile and roll your eyes, "you didn't have to do that, you know?" you say, crossing your arms as he returned the gardening scissors to their place in the kitchen drawer.

"I know but now Franco won't see any mess, problem solved," he said with a grin, clearly proud of his work.

You shook your head gently, "you're a mess sometimes, you know that?" you teased, sticking your tongue out at him, gently swatting his arm.

Lando laughed good-naturedly, "hey, I'm just trying to help," he said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. He leaned against the kitchen counter and looked at you with a smile.

"But, thanks for letting me have Franco over," he said, his tone suddenly more serious, "I just want to make sure he feels less lonely around here, you know?

“F1 life can be pretty isolating at times," he said, running a hand through his messy hair. You felt a wave of empathy towards Lando, knowing that the F1 life wasn’t exactly a walk in the park. The constant traveling, media scrutiny, and being surrounded by people yet often feeling alone wasn't a piece of cake.

“I completely understand,” you said gently, moving to lean next to him against the kitchen counter. "I'm happy to have you guys over, just maybe a bit more notice next time?" you teased, nudging him playfully with your elbow.

Lando chuckled, "I promise to give you a heads-up in the future," he said, holding up a hand as if he was swearing.

A silence fell for a moment before Lando glanced at you, a mischievous glint in his eye.

"So tell me, you're single right? Do you mind if I play matchmaker for you tonight?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

You felt a mixture of surprise and amusement wash over you.

"Lando, are you serious?" you asked, trying to hold back a smile.

Lando just shrugged, "What can I say? I love playing matchmaker. Besides, I think you and Franco would get along great," he said, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

“Also what should I make for dinner?” You asked Lando.

“Ooh Make your Chicken Parmesan and my life is yours,” Lando says dramatically falling on the floor. Lando scrambled off the floor, a wide grin on his face.

"You're a goddess" he declared, exaggeratingly bowing down to you.

"Now if only Franco is as easily pleased as me" he teased, wagging his eyebrows. You shook your head, trying to hide a smile. "Lando, will you shut up and help me cook?"

He laughed and saluted you. "Aye, aye captain," he said, pushing himself off the floor.

As you both moved to the kitchen and started prepping the ingredients, Lando couldn't help but keep bringing up the thought of you and Franco together.

"You know, Franco is a nice guy," Lando said, chopping away at a pile of garlic "I think you two would get along great," he said, his eyes never leaving the chopping board.

You hummed in response, stirring the marinara sauce.

Lando glanced up at you with a smirk. "He's single too, you know" he teased, clearly enjoying this a little too much. You shot Lando a stern look, trying to suppress a smile. "Lando, I know you like to play matchmaker but slow down a bit, will you?"

Lando feigned surprise, a hand coming to his mouth in mock shock. "I have no idea what you're talking about," he said innocently, going back to chopping the garlic.

You rolled your eyes at his act. "You're the worst," you said, shaking your head.

Lando chuckled, "But you love me"

You couldn't deny that. You did love him, as annoying as he could be at times. But you weren't about to give him that satisfaction.

"Sometimes," you said with a grin, shaking your head.

Just then, the buzzer for the front door rang throughout the apartment - signaling that Franco was there. Lando's face lit up, like a kid on Christmas morning. "I'll get the door," Lando said quickly, jumping up from the counter before you had the chance to respond.

"Lando, wait-" you called out, but he was already rushing out of the kitchen.

Sighing, you tried to refocus on the marinara sauce. But the thought of meeting Franco for the first time started to make your nerves flutter.

Lando quickly crossed the living room and opened the front door. Franco stood there with a smile, holding a bottle of red wine in his hand.

"Hey mate, glad you could make it," Lando said, stepping aside to let him in.

Franco stepped through the door, his eyes immediately taking in your apartment. "Wow, this is a nice place, thanks for having me," he said, handing Lando the bottle of wine.

"Ah, thanks for bringing the wine," Lando said, taking the bottle in his hands and studying the label.

"And no problem, my friend," he said, giving his shoulder a firm pat.

You picked that moment to stroll into the living room, curiosity getting the better of you. At the sight of you, Franco gave a charming smile.

"Hello there," he said, his deep voice sending a shiver down your spine for some reason. You offered him a warm smile in return, trying to ignore the way your heart skipped a beat at his words.

"Hi, I'm (Y/N)" you said, holding out a hand.

Franco took your hand in his own, giving it a gentle shake. His hand was warm and firm against your own, and you found yourself blushing a bit at the contact.

"Franco," he said, his smile still in place. Lando watched the interaction, his smirk growing wider. Lando cleared his throat, breaking the moment.

"Come on, let's head into the kitchen, (Y/N) just about finished preparing dinner," he said, gesturing to the kitchen.

Franco gave you one more smile before following Lando into the kitchen. You stayed a step behind them, taking a deep breath to calm your nerves.

As you entered the kitchen, you went back to stirring the marinara sauce. Lando started to pour some of the wine into three glasses, handing one to you and one to Franco.

As the three of you drank and joked around with casual small talk, you found yourself getting more comfortable in Franco's presence. He was polite, witty, and had a smile that could melt even the iciest of hearts.

When it came time to eat, the three of you sat around your kitchen table, laughing and enjoying the delicious chicken parmesan.

As you all talked, you realized that Lando was suspiciously quiet - watching you and Franco intently, the ghost of a smirk on his lips.

Lando continued to silently observe you and Franco, occasionally chuckling to himself. You noticed this and shot him a few pointed looks, trying to signal for him to behave.

But Lando just smiled innocently, sipping his wine.

Meanwhile, you and Franco continued chatting, discovering mutual interests, and sharing stories. The conversation was easy and natural, and you found yourself genuinely enjoying his company.

As the meal came to a close, the conversation started to die down. Lando set down his fork and leaned back in his chair, a satisfied smile on his face.

"Well, that was bloody fantastic," he said, patting his stomach.

Franco nodded in agreement, also leaning back in his chair. "Yeah, best chicken parmesan I’ve ever had," he said, looking over at you with a grateful smile.

You felt a blush rise in your cheeks at the compliment. "Oh, it's nothing really" you said, waving a dismissive hand.

Lando smirked into his wine glass, watching you two interact. He was enjoying this far too much.

"Nonsense, it was absolutely fantastic" Franco said, his eyes never leaving yours.

Suddenly, Lando cleared his throat, interrupting the moment.

"You know, (Y/N). Franco here is single" he said, feigning innocence. You tensed up at Lando's words. Here we go.

Franco coughed awkwardly, his cheeks tinged a light pink.

You sent Lando a sharp glare, warning him to back off. Which also resulted in you kicking Lando in the shin underneath the table. Lando winced in pain, "Ow!" he exclaimed, rubbing his shin as he shot you a betrayed look.

Franco chuckled beside you, clearly enjoying your playful banter. "Sorry," you said to Lando, not sounding at all sorry. Lando just grumbled something under his breath as he continued to rub his shin.

Glancing at Franco, you found he was looking right back at you, an amused smile playing on his lips. "Hey, I’m just trying to help you guys out" Lando said, holding up his hands in mock surrender.

Franco shook his head, "It's alright, I think it's quite funny actually" he said, glancing between you and Lando. You chuckled, mentally cursing Lando for his attempts at match-making.

“You’ll have to forgive him, he’s a bit of a meddler” you said, giving Lando a pointed look. Lando let out a huff of protest, "I’m not a meddler, I prefer the term matchmaker".

You rolled your eyes at his comment, shaking your head. "More like a pain in the ass" you muttered. Franco chuckled beside you, clearly amused by your banter.

Lando clutched his chest in mock offense, "I'm hurt. Really hurt." You just rolled your eyes again, used to Lando's melodrama. “Well would you look at the time I should be going” Lando said looking at his bare wrist as he got up sprinting to the door.

“You’re not even wearing your watch!” You called out to him. Lando ignored your comment and quickly made his way to the door in a few long strides.

"Bye guys, have fun!" he called out over his shoulder before exiting the apartment. The door slid shut behind him, leaving you alone with Franco.

You let out a sigh, shaking your head. "That boy, I swear he never knows when to stop" you said, rolling your eyes.

Franco chuckled, looking over at you. "He seems like a fun guy" he said.

You shook your head, "Yeah, fun and a massive pain in the ass" you replied, a smile tugging at your lips. The two of you stood silently for a moment, the weight of Lando's words hanging in the air.

Trying to break the tension, you cleared your throat. "Well, would you like some more wine?" you asked, gesturing to the bottle on the table.

Franco smiled warmly and nodded. "Yeah, why not" he said, holding out his glass for you to refill it. You poured the red liquid into his glass, your hands slightly shaking with nerves.

As you refilled your own glass, you snuck a glance at Franco, taking in his sharp jaw and kind eyes.

God, he really was handsome. You quickly averted your gaze, mentally scolding yourself for ogling him like that.

As you set down the bottle, you decided to break the silence.

"So, Lando mentioned you’re single?" you asked, trying to sound casual but failing miserably. As soon as the words left your mouth, you mentally smacked yourself. Of course you would ask that.

Franco let out a chuckle, his eyes flashing with amusement.

"Yeah, I'm single" he said simply, swirling the wine in his glass.

A silence fell over the two of you for a moment, the only sound being the ticking of the clock on the wall.

You fidgeted with the hem of your shirt, not knowing what to say next.

Franco glanced up at you, his gaze suddenly intense. "And you? Are you single?" he asked, his voice low. You felt your breath hitch in your throat as you met his gaze.

"Y-yeah, I’m single" you manage to squeak out, your voice betraying your nerves.

Franco nodded in response, his eyes studying your face intently. The tension in the air was suddenly thick enough to cut with a knife.

Despite your nerves, there was something about the way he was looking at you that made your stomach flutter.

The air was charged with a tension you couldn’t fully understand, and it made it hard to focus on anything except his gaze.

After a few moments of silence, Franco cleared his throat. “Can I…ask you something?”

Franco took a sip of his wine before continuing, his eyes never leaving you.

"Did Lando set us up?" he asked bluntly.

You were taken aback by his bluntness, but after a moment of surprise wore off, you chuckled.

"Yes, he did" you admitted sheepishly. Franco chuckled as well, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

“I had a feeling he was up to something” he said, his voice low. “But I wasn’t expecting him to be quite so…forward”

You nodded, a smile on your face. “Lando can be a little reckless at times” you said, shaking your head fondly. “Clearly” Franco said, his tone amused.

He stared at you for a few moments, his eyes boring into you. You fidgeted nervously, unsure of what to say or do next.

Finally, he spoke again, his voice quieter than before. “Can I tell you something?”

Your heart rate picked up speed as you swallowed heavily. "Yeah, sure. Go ahead" you said, bracing yourself. Franco took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving yours.

"I actually..." he trailed off, suddenly looking nervous.

Your heart was pounding in your chest as you waited for him to continue, holding your breath. "I...I actually find you very attractive" he said in a rush, his cheeks turning a light tint of pink.

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, your mind suddenly going blank. Did he just say what you thought he said?

"I, uh..." you mumbled, your mind scrambling to come up with a response.

Franco chuckled, sensing your surprise. He ran a hand through his hair, looking suddenly sheepish.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to blurt that out like that” he said, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

You shook your head, still trying to process what he had just said.

"No, no, it's alright" you finally managed to say, your voice shaky. "I, uh...I find you attractive too" you admitted quietly, feeling your cheeks flush.

“Would you like to go out sometime soon with me?” Franco asked nervously.

Your heart thumped in your chest as Franco's words hung in the air. He wanted to go out with you.

"Yes" you said, without hesitation. "I'd love to"

A smile slowly spread across Franco's face. "Really?" he asked, looking pleasantly surprised.

"Yes, really" you laughed, the nerves finally gone.

Franco's smile widened, his eyes sparkling. "Great" he replied, the relief evident in his voice. "How about this Friday? I'll pick you up at 8?"

Your heart fluttered at his suggestion. "That sounds perfect" you said, a smile on your face.

Franco let out a sigh of relief. "Great, it's a date" he said, looking genuinely excited. The two of you continued talking for a while longer, the previous tension replaced by a lighthearted chatter.

Eventually, Franco looked down at his watch and winced. "It's almost midnight, I should probably head home" he said, reluctantly standing up from his chair.

You stood up as well, feeling a pang of disappointment at the thought of him leaving. But you knew he was right - it was getting late.

“Yeah, I guess it is pretty late” you said, glancing down at your own watch.

Franco gathered his jacket and slung it over his shoulder. You walked him to the front door.

As you opened the door, Franco turned to face you. He looked like he wanted to say something, but he was hesitating.

Finally, he spoke up. "Tonight was really nice" he said, his voice softer than before.

You smiled, feeling your heart flutter. "Yeah, it was" you agreed, holding his gaze.

[leftoverghosts]

✩ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ · every champion was once a challenger.

hiiii loves! here's a whole bunch of art, pat, (1) tashi and challengers rafe bots! as always let me know if they're misbehaving! i'd also love to see what you do with them xoxoxoxo - nori

who’s got the power in your mind · · ─── · crownprince!art x powerhungrylady!user

A crown prince, consumed by his unrequited love for you, the power hungry daughter of a prominent family, seeks validation and approval through devotion and defiance. His unrelenting devotion and defiance only intensify as he faces rejection, leading him to relinquish his morals in face of his pursuit of you. (aka kneeling art! me when i forget to change the title lol)

i'm not your hero but i got his desire · · ─── · crownprince!art x softlady!user

Prince Art, devastated after a harsh argument with his father, sneaks into your quarters, vulnerable and broken. Fearing that his father plans to replace him with his bastard brother, Patrick, he confesses his feelings of inadequacy. In your embrace, he seeks comfort, overwhelmed by the pressure to prove himself worthy.

looking for somеbody to put out your fire? · · ─── · bf!art x gn!anxious!user

In the quiet sanctuary of Art’s Jeep, his calm presence became a lifeline as a panic attack threatened to overwhelm you. With his arms encircling you and his steady voice guiding your breath, he anchored you to the present, helping you navigate the storm within. There was no rush, no judgment—just Art’s quiet strength reminding you that you didn’t have to face it alone. (tw: panic attack)

what happened, oh, last summer? · · ─── · amnesia!art x fakegf!user

After Art wakes from a coma with amnesia, he believes that you, his best friend, are his girlfriend. Stricken by guilt over accidentally injuring him, you go along with it, unsure if your friendship would be able to survive the truth.

lady luck, pay no mind, this will leave you crying · · ─── · prince!patrick x betrothedlady!user

You, a young noblewoman promised to Prince Patrick in an arranged marriage you cannot accept, attempt to flee your fate. During your escape, you are ambushed by bandits but are saved by none other than your betrothed himself. With no time to return to the castle, you seek refuge at a nearby inn, only to find that there is one room left—with one bed.

are you free tonight? 'cause i think i found it? · · ─── · exbf!patrick x m!childhoodlove!user

Patrick, forced to attend a lavish party at his family’s manor, unexpectedly runs into you, his first boyfriend whom he ghosted years ago. Overcome with guilt, he pulls you aside and admits that he struggled with his bisexuality, terrified of being different and how others would perceive him. He confesses that it was never just a phase and that he never stopped thinking about you. (in the end, i combined this with the 'bleeding out slowly' request!)

well i'll wait all night for you · · ─── · boyfriend!patrick x actress!user

After the Oscars, you and Patrick hit a 24-hour diner, still dressed to the nines. Patrick brags about your win, soaking up the attention as he calls himself your "best hype man." Meanwhile, he's secretly waiting for the perfect moment to propose, the engagement ring burning a hole in his pocket.

baby, i can shift shapes but i can't deny · · ─── · oliverquick!patrick x gn!felix catton!user

You invite Patrick, a charming yet troubled tennis player, to your family’s villa for the summer, hoping to enjoy an escape from the city. What starts as a whirlwind romance soon feels too easy—too perfect. Patrick has his own hidden agenda, and what seems like a genuine connection is slowly turning into something far more complicated.

the weight of it all · · ─── · divorcelawyer!patrick x divorcelawyer!wife!user

Amid the mounting tensions of a high-stakes divorce case, you feel the cracks in your marriage with Patrick deepening. Work consumes your life, leaving little space for intimacy, and frustration builds between you both. As emotions boil over, the line between professional conflicts and personal battles blurs, threatening to unravel everything. (this triggered the filter like crazy, so good luck! xoxo)

i'm in another body who's in somebody else · · ─── · rookietennisplayer!rafe x f!protégé!user

A rising tennis star, still adjusting to life on the pro circuit, you find yourself drawn to a new, unpredictable teammate—Rafe. His playing style, reminiscent of Patrick's, and his volatile temper create tension with Art. Despite this, you find yourself torn between desire and loyalty to the team.

you're not a poet, you're a liar · · ─── · tennisplayer!rafe x gn!protégé!user

Following your triumphant US Open victory, the air between you and your brooding, volatile teammate grows unbearable. His silence at the afterparty was deafening, his dark gaze following you like a shadow, a constant reminder of everything unspoken. Back in your hotel suite, the tension explodes.

i cut you slack, you cut me minе · · ─── · queen!tashi x gn!consort!user

Queen Tashi, the sole survivor of her ambitious and treacherous family, rules alone, burdened by betrayal and loss. Chosen as her consort for your unwavering loyalty, you become the one person she trusts. Can you ease the pain of a queen who has lost everything, yet remains unyielding?

[catofgooddecisions]

Hey, I'm going through something not quite the same but similar. I had long COVID and developed severe brain fog during the height of my freelance writing career. I began missing deadlines, dropping communications, getting confused in the middle of writing sentences, and developing migraines from trying to write assignments.

It was devastating, and I've never met someone else who was in a similar position until now. Bucket is right, take time to grieve. I spent years crying and feeling like someone had died. But after that, I slowly began getting back to writing. I agree with everything that's already been said, with some additions and comments.

1. I switched how I communicated with my developers. Instead of email, I learned that Discord was way easier for me because chatting was FAR less strenuous than email-speak. Nowadays, professionalism in general is draining, so maybe something to think about. What KINDS of writing tire you out most?

2. I save my energy for when it matters. If I know I'll be writing today I treat myself extra gently and ask for extra help. That even includes asking someone to help grab snacks for me so I'm not getting up and down as often (mind you, I also have physical limitations).

3. I'm open about my limitations. Feeling like I can not only share my struggles but feel a measure of control in managing expectations helps my anxiety and imposter syndrome a lot.

4. I basically changed everything about my writing process. I use mindmaps and braindumping instead of outlines. I write my first drafts in bullet points. Yes. Bullet points. I type in Google Docs instead of Word. And I spitball my writing ideas out loud with people more often the process.

5. Feed your brain. I only started seeing major improvements after I cut a lot of processed foods out of my diet, drank water as my only drink at home, and worked with doctors to address vitamin deficiencies and mental health.

6. Might not fit your situation, but I also started co-writing with my husband. It's been really fun and effective!

7. This one might be weird, but DON'T push through brain fog or processing issues if you're having a lot of trouble. Step back, rest, try again later. Yes, practice, persistence, and patience are key, but I was hurting myself trying to push against the resistance like I was exercising a muscle. Our situations aren't identical, but the brain is an amazing organ. Take care of it, exercise it with variety instead of intensity, and enrich it. See if that helps.

This past year I was able to enter and complete and writing competition with my husband, and it was really fun! So don't give up trying and be kind to yourself. Let's show the world what we can do! 💙

Hi, this is a really specific situation, but I'm at a loss. I had an accident that left me with lasting brain issues, and my writing has taken a hit. I went from being able to churn out a 3k word chapter in a day to needing an hour to write 50 words. I have so many ideas but can't express them, and I hate writing as a result. I know practice and just pushing through are going to be the main pieces of advice, but do you have any other suggestions or resources for someone who is having to re-learn how to be a writer?

Hey there! First off, I’m so sorry this response took me so long. Your Ask really stuck with me, and I wanted to give it the thought and care it deserves.

I can’t imagine how frustrating and heartbreaking it must be to go through such a big shift in your writing process. Losing that ease and flow—especially when you have so many ideas—is a huge adjustment. It’s a testament to your creativity and drive that you’re still thinking about how to keep writing despite the challenges.

You’re absolutely right that practice and pushing through are often the go-to advice, but I think it’s equally important to give yourself permission to grieve what’s changed. Writing can feel like such a core part of who we are, and when it’s harder than it used to be, it’s natural to feel a sense of loss.

Here are a few suggestions that might help as you navigate this:

1. Try Different Mediums: If typing feels like slogging through mud, maybe experiment with dictation software or voice-to-text tools. Speaking your ideas aloud could help you capture more words without the same strain.

2. Focus on Smaller Goals: Instead of trying to write full chapters, set tiny, manageable goals—like jotting down a single image or one sentence that excites you. Those little wins can add up and feel more achievable.

3. Explore New Ways of Outlining: If you’re struggling to get the words out, focus on the ideas instead. Create bullet points, mind maps, or even doodles to capture the essence of your story without the pressure of fully fleshed-out prose.

4. Be Kind to Yourself: This is the hardest one, but it’s so important. Writing isn’t just about the final product; it’s about the joy of creating. Even if the words come slower, every step you take is progress.

And don't forget to give yourself a ton of credit! Re-learning how to write in a way that works for you now is an incredible act of resilience. You’re still a writer, and your stories are still worth telling, even if the path looks different.

Hope this helps!

Bucket

/ / / / / / / / / / /

@theliteraryarchitect is a writing advice blog run by me, Bucket Siler, a writer and developmental editor. For more writing help, download my Free Resource Library for Fiction Writers, join my email list, or check out my book The Complete Guide to Self-Editing for Fiction Writers.

[fan-a-tink]

Character Appreciation Week: Edwin Payne

Edwin Payne is the kindest & bravest soul I have ever come across in fiction. He found the courage to forgive his killer, he dedicated his afterlife to helping other people, solving their cases and giving others the help he never received when he was alive. He endured decades of torture in literal hell and it only made him kinder, more desperate to help others, to protect others from the same fate. He brought Charles so much more than just a lantern, but warmth and light and comfort in his darkest hour, and Edwin was ready to let Charles move on, completely selflessly offering his friendship for a few hours thinking that's all it was ever going to be.

Edwin is also an incredible detective, and I love that he can spend his afterlife pursuing his interests, using his intelligence and analytical abilities to solve cases, and becoming like the great detective characters he always loved reading about. He takes his work seriously, but I know that he also takes pleasure in it, reveling in the questions and motions of detective work. He's actually the biggest nerd who made his special interest his profession and I love how much joy that brings him.

I love Edwin for how protective he is of his own space and for how he adopts a quiet confidence in himself as he discovers more about himself, his queerness, his relation to others. He is always very aware of the space he takes up in the world, the ghostly body he's been given, the version of himself that exists in the world as a testimony to his escape from hell and the endless cycle of being ripped apart over and over again. It's no wonder he is conscious of his body, and careful about who he lets into his personal space. But I also love that that never stops him from adding little flourishes to his movements, small gestures that become part of his very unique style of existence. By the end of the eight episodes you can really see in his movements that he is comfortable in his ghostly skin and confident about who he is. It is beautiful to see.

And finally, I love Edwin for how he loves Charles. His journey of discovery, not only of his sexuality but also of his feelings for Charles, of learning how to love and let other people in was so powerful and really hit a nerve with me. Out of all the incredibly brave things he's done throughout his after-life, confessing his feelings for Charles is by far the bravest one. He poured his heart out and made himself completely vulnerable in front of the person who had the power to hurt him more than anyone in the world. And I am so glad it was Charles, and that Charles responded with so much gentleness and acceptance. My heart sings when I think about how much Charles and Edwin care about and for each other, how gently they hold each other, how precious they are to one another. Their relationship is the definition of the secret third thing and I will forever be grateful to Edwin for being a part of that. I feel so hopeful knowing that he is finding his way through the great labyrinth of sexuality and romantic attraction, hopeful that I can navigate it too.

Edwin Payne, my precious boy, my beloved ghost detective, my favourite character to ever grace the realm of fiction. You are so loved.

[sulumuns-dootah]

hear me out(possible fic idea but also just something I need to get off my mind…) female reader on their period with the sorest breasts know to man, but thankfully we have big handed demon to the rescue for a nice lil massage 🙂‍↕️(Beleth and Mammon were the first two that came to mind, same with Morax, his hands looked HUGE in that Lucifer card.)

WHB demons w/ fem!reader who has sore breasts

⟡ Masterlist ⟡

A/N: Decided to add some more boys and put it into HC format bc i rarely get to do those for the nobles ^^

Characters: Amy, Mammon, Glaysalabolas, Beleth, Ronove, Morax, Marbas

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Amy, being the good boy he is, will gladly do anything for you to make you feel better

Just give him the word and he'll be eagerly all over your chest

Silently hopes that you also get cramps bc it's a known fact that orgasms help relieve those

The thought of you forcing him to eat you out is enough to make his horn-fluid start dripping from the tips of his horns

Maybe if the massage doesn't help, he could try sucking on your tits instead?

       ༺☆༻

Mammon on the other hand...

No funny or alterior motives here

You ask for a massage and he hapily delivers

But if you also need a massage somewhere else, make sure to let him know ;)

Henestly, he's the top pick to go to

His hands are perfect for this

He's a gentle giant through and through which translates amazingly into his touches

       ༺☆༻

When you ask Glasya to massage your breasts, he'll have to think about it, btu say yes in the end

But under one condition:

You lay as still as possible... or he can give you his special kiss (H-scene reference)

But knowing him, there's no guarantee he'll keep his word

Though, I do feel like once he's done with you, your painful boobs will be the last of your concern

       ༺☆༻

Ooh just sitting in Beleth's lap while his free hand takes turns on each of your tits while the other one is busy with bringing the cigarette to his lips

And if you're smoker too, occasionally he'll let you take a drag too while you're bouncing on his lap

What? Don't look at him like that! You really thought he'd do it for free?

       ༺☆༻

Asking Ronove is potentially even more riskier than asking Glasyalabolas, but(!) this man definitelly knows what he's doing with his hands

And there's something about seeing the hands that usually rip angels apart making you feel good instead

I can imagine him whispering sweet praises or filthy remarks as he does so

       ༺☆༻

Morax is actually a little bit shy when you ask him, but he's obviously down for the job

Making others feel better is his main job description afterall

He'll even offer to take on your pain so you don't suffer that much

I think Morax is the only demon to actually make the pain fully go away

       ༺☆༻

Somewhere between Ronove and Morax

The risk of asking Marbas is great, given his constant urges, but the payout is even greater

He may not get rid of the pain fully, but instead he'll turn it into a pleasurable pain

And yes, it is really ahard for him to restrain himself from just turning you into his fleshlight

Especially when you start letting out the sweetest moans of relief

[chxnsgirl]

창빈 ─── let me take care of you

♡ pairing ៸៸ gym trainer!changbin x afab!reader genre ៸៸ angst, fluff, smut ៸៸ cw ៸៸ vanilla , praise kink (if u really really squint), oral (f. rec) , shower sex , there's also a link hidden in the fic c; ♡ synopsis ៸៸ literally no plot just smut a/n ๑ here's a lil bini fic since someone requested this ! [ 3.2k words ] ♡ masterlist

smut below the cut - minors gtfo.

another day, another gym session.

except this wasn’t just any gym session—it was with changbin, your personal trainer, and quite possibly the most attractive man you’d ever met. you first crossed paths a few months ago when you decided it was time to pull yourself out of the post-breakup slump and hit the gym again. changbin had been scanning for potential clients when he noticed you, and from that moment, your fitness journey took an unexpected turn.

from the start, you found him absolutely captivating. his physique was the stuff of admiration—a flawlessly sculpted body that practically exuded strength and confidence. but it wasn’t just his physique; his face was just as alluring. full lips, a radiant smile that seemed to light up the room—it all worked together to make your heart skip a beat.

still, it was more than just his looks that drew you in. changbin’s kindness and patience stood out. he truly understood the challenges you faced, encouraging you every step of the way with unwavering support. and given your single status and lack of intimate company for months, he was the only person who had come to know your body as well as you did—albeit in a very different way.

but lately, things had begun to shift. each training session seemed to carry a weight that went beyond fitness. the tension between you had been growing steadily, layer by layer. subtle touches lingered a second too long. his warm, tender smiles felt more personal. and the compliments—sweet, sincere, and unexpectedly intimate—hung in the air like a charged whisper, leaving you wondering where this might lead.

you had just wrapped up a grueling workout and were now easing into your stretches with changbin by your side. today’s session had been particularly intense, focusing heavily on lifting, and you’d pushed yourself harder than ever. the ache in your muscles was proof of your effort, and you couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride. clearly, changbin was proud of you too.

“you did great today,” he praised, his voice warm and encouraging.

he knelt beside you, helping guide your leg toward your abdomen as you stretched. his touch was firm but careful, his movements precise, yet you could sense the restraint in him. his eyes flicked to your form briefly, but he quickly refocused, clearly trying to remain professional. it wasn’t easy, though, considering the snug spandex leggings that clung to every curve of your lower half and the sports bra that, while functional, accentuated your breasts, which were pressed against the fabric with every deep inhale you took.

“thanks,” you replied breathlessly, switching to your other leg. changbin shifted to adjust his position, his pelvis hovering just above your ass as you lay flat on the mat. the closeness of his body, combined with the strength in his arms as he pressed your leg toward your torso, sent a wave of heat surging through you.

it settled deep in your core, and you fought to push the feeling away. determined not to let your thoughts spiral, you turned your head and focused your gaze anywhere but on him, desperately trying to ignore the way his touch and attention was making you feel.

as changbin adjusted his position, his touch lingered just a little longer than necessary. his hands were warm and strong, holding your leg securely as he leaned in to guide your stretch. you could feel the tension in the air thickening, subtle but undeniable. the faint scent of his cologne mixed with the musk of your workout, making your senses hyperaware of his proximity.

“relax into it,” changbin murmured, his voice softer now, almost coaxing. his breath brushed against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine despite the heat coursing through you.

you exhaled slowly, trying to follow his instruction, but the pressure of his hands and the way his body was aligned with yours made it difficult to focus. as your muscles stretched and lengthened under his guidance, your thoughts began to wander to places they shouldn’t.

his hands moved slightly, adjusting the angle of your leg. the contact was innocent enough, yet it sent a spark straight to your core. his thumbs pressed gently into your thigh, massaging the tension there, and you couldn’t suppress the faint hum that escaped your lips.

“you okay?” he asked, his tone low and careful, though there was a hint of something else in it—a slight rasp that betrayed his own composure.

“y-yeah,” you managed to reply, your voice unsteady.

but changbin didn’t move away. instead, his gaze flickered down to you, his dark eyes studying your face. “you’re holding tension here,” he said, his hands sliding down slightly to work at the tight muscles in your hips. the motion was slow, deliberate, and his fingers pressed firmly yet gently, igniting a slow burn deep within you.

your breath hitched, and you couldn’t help but glance up at him. his face was so close now, his lips parted slightly as though he was about to say something more. but no words came. instead, the moment seemed to stretch endlessly between you, the space between your bodies almost nonexistent.

you could feel the heat radiating from him, the firmness of his hands, the way his body hovered just above yours. and then, as though caught in some invisible pull, your eyes locked. the air crackled with unspoken desire, and suddenly, all the restraint from earlier seemed to crumble.

changbin’s hands stilled against your body, and you felt his grip tighten slightly, as if grounding himself. his throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, and he glanced away for a moment, exhaling deeply. “i-i don’t… we shouldn’t…” he began, his voice low and uneven, though it lacked conviction.

you reached out instinctively, your fingers brushing lightly against his arm. “it’s okay,” you whispered, your voice soft but steady. you leaned up slightly, your body arching toward him, driven by a pull you could no longer resist. “i don’t mind, if you don’t.”

and in an instant, you two were in the back of the gym, messily making out inside the employee showers. you had the curtain covering you both as you kissed each other, as well as the water running so nobody could hear the sinful noises of you two claiming each other.

the water was cascading down both of your bodies, getting your workout attire drenched. changbin let out a moan as he pressed you against the tile wall, grinding his length against your thigh.

you eagerly tugged his shirt off, wanting to see more of him.

in the haze of passion, your hands trembled slightly as you pulled changbin’s drenched shirt over his head, tossing it onto the wet floor without a second thought. the sight of his bare torso under the dim, steamy light took your breath away—every muscle, every defined line glistening under the cascade of water.

your hands roamed his chest, fingers tracing his abdomen before sliding up to his broad shoulders. his skin was warm beneath your touch, and he shuddered as your nails lightly grazed him.

“god, you’re so beautiful,” you murmured, your voice breathy and full of awe.

changbin’s lips found yours again, this time more urgent, more fervent. his hands gripped your waist firmly, pulling your soaked body flush against his. you gasped into his mouth as the rough texture of the tile wall contrasted with the heat of his touch. his hips pressed into you, and the friction sent waves of pleasure coursing through your core.

he broke the kiss momentarily, his forehead resting against yours as his hands slid up, fingers brushing over the fabric of your sports bra. “are you sure about this?” he asked, his voice husky but tinged with care.

you cupped his face, your thumbs brushing over his cheekbones. “i’ve never been more sure,” you whispered, pulling him back into a searing kiss.

his hands moved with purpose, tugging at the hem of your sports bra. you raised your arms, helping him remove it, and the cool air of the shower hit your exposed skin before the warmth of his hands replaced it. his palms cupped your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your hardened peaks, drawing a gasp from your lips.

the steam swirled around you both, cloaking the scene in a veil of intimacy as changbin’s lips left a trail of kisses down your neck and collarbone. the sound of water hitting the tiles mingled with your quiet moans and his deep groans, creating a symphony of passion that seemed to echo in the small space.

your fingers fumbled with the waistband of his shorts, eager to feel more of him. he let out a shaky breath as you pushed them down, your touch exploring the contours of his hips and thighs. you could see the outline of his thick, hard cock through his briefs, and your core ached so intensely you could feel a heartbeat between your legs.

the tension that had built between you for weeks was now unraveling, every kiss, every touch, bringing you closer to a point of no return.

changbin’s hands slid down to your hips, gripping them firmly as he pressed against you. his breath was hot against your ear as he whispered, “you have no idea how long i’ve wanted this.”

you smiled against his lips, your fingers threading through his damp hair. “then show me,” you whispered, and with that, he captured your mouth again, his fingers curling under your leggings and yanking them down as well as your panties without hesitation.

you blushed, feeling bare and exposed in front of him. it had been a long time since you had been bare before a man, and changbin could sense your anxiety. “you look fucking gorgeous,” he growled, yanking them off your legs fully before kneeling in front of you and lifting one of your legs over his shoulder. you responded with a tiny gasp, realizing what he was preparing to do. changbin's dark eyes locked with yours as he knelt before you, the water cascading over his sculpted frame. his hands slid up your thighs, strong yet gentle, as if reassuring you of how much he wanted this—wanted you. the heat of his breath contrasted with the cool tile against your back, and the intensity of his gaze sent shivers down your spine.

“you don’t have to be nervous,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing but laced with hunger. “let me take care of you.”

before you could respond, he leaned in, pressing a kiss to the inside of your thigh. the sensation was electric, a mix of tenderness and desire that left you trembling. his lips moved slowly, trailing upward, each kiss stoking the fire coursing through your body.

when his mouth finally reached your core, your breath hitched. his tongue was warm and deliberate, exploring you with a confidence that left no doubt he knew exactly how to drive you wild. your hand flew to his hair, gripping the wet strands as your head fell back against the wall, a soft moan escaping your lips.

he moaned against your cunt, his tongue swirling and flicking over your sensitive flesh with relentless determination. the wet sounds of his mouth on your skin were just barely audible, driving you to new heights of pleasure. he savored every inch of you, the scent and taste that he had craved for so long.

a sharp cry escaped your lips as he wrapped his lips around your clit, suckling and lapping at it with fervent desire. his face was buried between your thighs, his breath hot against your skin as he devoured you without restraint. your body arched and quivered under his skilled touch, each wave of pleasure building higher and higher until it consumed you completely.

“bin…” you whimpered, your voice barely audible over the sound of the running water.

he growled in response, the vibrations sending waves of pleasure through you. his grip on your leg tightened as he pulled you closer, his mouth working you with an intensity that made your toes curl. the sensations were overwhelming, the combination of his touch, the warmth of the water, and the way his tongue moved against you unraveling you completely.

your free hand pressed against the tile, trying to steady yourself, but it was no use. the tension building in your core was too much, too fast. “oh my god,” you gasped, your voice breaking as his name tumbled from your lips like a prayer.

changbin glanced up at you briefly, his eyes smoldering with desire as he watched you come undone above him. his lips curved into a small, cocky smile before he doubled down, his tongue and lips moving with a precision that left you breathless.

your body arched involuntarily, the sensations overwhelming as the pleasure built to a crescendo. your grip on his hair tightened, and with one final, broken cry of his name, the tension snapped, waves of ecstasy crashing over you. your legs trembled, and the one leg you were using to keep yourself standing in the shower was barely holding you upright.

as you came down from the high, your chest heaved, and your legs trembled. changbin stood slowly, his hands steadying you as he cupped your face and kissed you deeply, letting you taste the passion you’d just shared.

“you taste so fucking good,” he whispered against your lips, his voice rough and breathless, as if he’d been just as affected by the moment as you were. you two made out again, lost in the shared taste of each other, until you broke it. “fuck me,” you panted, your voice soft and breathy.

“please, fuck me.”

changbin’s breath hitched at your words, his hands gripping your hips tighter as if grounding himself. he pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes burning with desire yet softened by a hint of hesitation. “you want it?” he murmured, his voice low and rough, barely audible over the water.

you nodded, your lips brushing against his as you whispered, “please, changbin.”

something in him shifted, the tension and restraint he’d been holding onto dissolving. his lips captured yours again, this time with a hunger that left no room for doubt. his kiss was fervent, his tongue sliding against yours as his hands roamed your body, every touch igniting a new wave of heat.

with a slow, deliberate motion, he freed his thick, pulsating cock from its confines. it was girthy and heavy, throbbing with an almost painful urgency that sent shivers down your spine. just looking at it made you nervous for what was to come, but also filled you with a primal desire you couldn't deny. the veins along its length were prominent and promising. you could feel the heat radiating off of it, making your own body flush with anticipation.

with a fluid motion, he lifted you, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he pressed you against the tiled wall. the water cascaded over both of you, amplifying the intensity of every sensation. you could feel him, hard and ready, pressing against your core, and the anticipation made you gasp.

his lips trailed down your neck, leaving a heated path of kisses as his hands gripped your thighs to steady you. “you’re so beautiful,” he murmured against your skin, his voice dripping with reverence and need.

“bin…” you whispered, your fingers threading through his wet hair, tugging lightly as your hips rolled against him, seeking more.

he groaned at the friction of his cock grinding between your slick lips, the sound deep and guttural, as he adjusted his position.

one hand slipped between you, and you shivered as his fingers teased your entrance, his touch deliberate and confident. “i need to feel you,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire.

“then do it,” you urged, your voice trembling with need. “i’m yours.”

his gaze locked with yours for a fleeting moment, the intensity in his eyes sending a fresh wave of heat through your body. slowly, he entered you, the stretch and fullness drawing a gasp from your lips as your nails dug into his shoulders.

his thick length filled every inch of you as he pushed deeper and deeper. the weight of him pressed against your skin, the sensation almost overwhelming but also intoxicating. his fat cock stretched you to your limits, each movement sending electrifying sensations coursing through your body. you could feel every ridge and vein as he plunged into you, claiming you completely.

“fuck,” he groaned, his forehead pressing against yours as he stilled, giving you a moment to adjust.“you feel incredible.” he moaned breathlessly, his brows knitted together as he fought the urge to cum right away.

“so do you,” you breathed, pressing a kiss to his lips before rolling your hips against him. the movement sent a shiver through him, and he began to move, his thrusts slow and deliberate at first, building in intensity.

lost in the moment and completely overtaken by his desire, changbin's grip on your hips tightened as he began to lift you effortlessly, moving your body up and down on his cock with a strength that made you feel weightless. his motions were powerful and unrelenting, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through your body as if he was claiming every inch of you.

the sounds echoing in the steamy shower were shamelessly erotic—your bodies colliding with wet, rhythmic slaps, punctuated by the increasingly loud moans spilling from your lips. it was such a stark contrast to the tentative quiet you’d both maintained when you first slipped into the shower, and yet now, the tension between you had unraveled into something raw and untamed.

you couldn’t help but glance down at him, the sight alone making your head spin. the way his strong arms supported you, his muscles flexing with each movement, and the determined, almost primal look on his face as he drove into you—it was intoxicating. the intensity of it all made your walls flutter around him involuntarily, earning a deep groan from his lips that only fueled your desire further.

your back arched against the tiles, the sensation overwhelming as waves of pleasure coursed through you.

your body tensed as his cock repeatedly hit your g-spot with relentless force, causing a deep pit to form in your stomach and your clit to pulse uncontrollably. the pleasure was overwhelming, almost bordering on pain, but you couldn’t help but crave more of his intense thrusts. after a few more thrusts, you were trembling, your core fluttering with impending release.

“changbin… i’m so close,” you gasped, your voice breaking as the tension in your body built to its peak.

“me too,” he rasped, his lips brushing against yours as his movements grew faster, more erratic.

with one final thrust, the tension snapped, and you cried out his name as the pleasure consumed you, your body trembling in his arms. he followed moments later, his groan vibrating against your neck as he held you tightly, riding the waves of ecstasy together.

the water continued to cascade over you both as you clung to each other, your breaths mingling in the steamy air. changbin pressed a soft kiss to your temple, his voice warm and tender as he whispered, “i’ve waited so long for this,”

you smiled, your fingers tracing the lines of his jaw as you replied, “so have i.” and as the water continued to fall around you, you knew this was for sure the start of something between you two.

tags: @ritsmith @bluesungology @jeonginsleftcheek

©chxnsgirl do not repost, translate, or copy my works in any way, shape, or form.

[midnight-bay-if]

Hey, just want you to know that I absolutely love this IF so far. I also wanted to ask how would the RO's react to an MC who's been hiding a really unhealthy coping mechanism from them? Something like an addiction or even self-harm. For the purpose of clarification let's assume they walked in on MC doing this act.

(TW; Self-Harm. I went a little deep with this... it helped heal a little something inside of me, though. I hope it's okay, and thank you.)

S: The hustle and bustle of the workday had left them impatient to return home and bask in your company. Manners momentarily set aside in their eagerness; they push open the door without forethought to knock. For once, they are grateful for their lapse in judgment when they see the blade against your skin. Their heart stutters in their chest, and they are momentarily stunned into silence. The spell breaks with the whimper that escapes your lips. Hands shaking, S storms over, blinking away tears and grasps your hand in theirs.

“Drop it.” The command is soft but assertive, the same tone they use when directing a mission; it’s a tone that demands a listening ear. You unfurl your fingers, watching as the blade clatters to the ground. You stand in shock, staring at your hand rather than the marks your hand had dealt. S feels shattered at the image.

Slowly, they reach out until the tips of their fingers glide against yours, down and down until only their hand is visible over yours. It’s enough to snap your attention to theirs. “Keep looking at me,” their voice is even softer now, no longer commanding but encouraging, “I am going to wrap these marks, and we are going to talk. Say as much or as little as you like, and I will listen. But do not ask me to leave because I cannot.”

They take great care with the bandages, treating each step with a rare gentleness. S allows you to speak as they work, hoping their divided attention will help you feel less perceived and be more open to conversation. Once all is said and done, S takes your hands once more. “I am here and asking you to lean on me. When you feel adrift, come to me, and I will be your anchor. Together, we can weather any storm.”

Rain: Rain’s eyes are set on the glint of metal against skin; their body turns stone cold. They hadn’t meant to wander in without announcing themselves, but as they grew more comfortable with you, so did their habits. It’s only now they realise there was still so much about you left to uncover. Some of it may even hurt.

Emotion takes over, and Rain does the only thing they can think to; they rush over to you, wrap their arms around your waist, pressing their cheek against your chest. If you are to hug them back, you have to drop the blade, so you do. Rain breathes a sigh of relief as your arms encompass them back, reciprocating the gesture rather than turning away from it. It was a brave thing to do.

“I don’t know the right words to say,” they whimper, clinging to you tightly. “I’m supposed to be a mediator, to know how to offer words of comfort when needed. But when it comes down to it, in moments of crisis, I turn to Selby; I always have done. So, I’m going on instinct right now.”

“You are not alone.” Their voice barely escapes through the shakiness of their breath; they just hope the words reach you. “This pain you inflict upon yourself because it feels better than… nothing; It’s not everything. It’s not eternal. It will end. The chasm in which you have isolated yourself has a door. Find it. Take the first step, and I will walk beside you the rest of the way, I promise.”

Taj: At first, the sight seems perfectly ordinary. Perhaps you did something that you felt you needed to punish yourself for. Then, they stop. Shame forces the thoughts down to the deepest dredges of their mind. Punishment is for them, not you. Their ears twitch, their tail swaying to demonstrate how their heart stirs.

Unable to stay in their sadness a moment longer, Taj storms towards you, batting the blade out of your hands. You startle, not having heard them enter, and shame fills them once more at the fear in your eyes. “Damn it, MC,” they mutter, although their chastising is aimed at themselves.

There is a long silence as they wonder how much of a wound they should open for you. How much do they dare?

Then, before they can talk themselves down, they pick up the discarded blade, shove up the sleeve of their oversized hoodie and bare their skin to your eyes: the long line of old and new scars, some white with time, others still healing, bring tears to your eyes. Taj presses the knife into your hand, guiding it to their skin without even twinging in hesitation.

“Do it to me instead. If you can do it to yourself, this should be no problem, right?”

It’s cruel. Insensitive. It’s all they know.

“If you can’t do it to me, you shouldn’t do it yourself.” Taj takes the blade once more, places it down, and then presses a warm hand to your cheek, brushing away a stray tear with their thumb. “You have no idea how much you hurt me…” The words are a whispered confession as beautiful as ‘I love you’. “We both have a lot to learn about what it means to be kind. So, let’s start now. Together.”

N: It can be difficult to ignore your moments of distress. More often than not, they hear your voice screaming in their head, a desperate call to nobody because you dare not hope someone will answer.For too long, they chose not to because they were not brave enough to believe you would be satisfied with them. They regret their indecision now.

Upon entering the room, their eyes zero in on the movement of your hand against tender skin, and they feel the moment their heart breaks. Gentle isn’t an action they take well, but they try. For you. Carefully, and without judgement, they reach out to you and pry the blade from your knuckles. The sharp edge catches their thumb, but they do not care. Better something so cruel touch them rather than you.

“If you wanted my attention, my dear, you needed only ask,” they joke, though the humour never reaches their voice, staying lost in the tension. “I do not know where you have lost yourself; there are too many places to hide in that head of yours. But let me in, and I will always find you. This, I swear.”

Umbra: It doesn’t make sense. At first, they are convinced you are readying yourself to confront an attacker. Umbra readies themselves, too, never letting you jump into the fray without them by your side. But then you bring the blade to your own soft skin, and it feels like Umbra’s heart truly stops. No. This isn’t right. It hurts. It hurts so much more than the pain in their chest that reminds them what they are.

Without thinking about it a moment longer, Umbra disappears. Black smoke reappears right beside your person as they grip the blade end in their hand before tearing it out of yours. They reform into their full figure, tears spilling from their eyes. You panic, turning their hand in yours to see what should be a fierce cut, only to find a thin, bloodless line.

It sickens them. You cut, you bleed; you mar your skin, undeserving as you are, and the only thing they can do is die. They crouch down in front of you, dropping their head in your lap to hide how they hurt. “It’s my job to protect you,” they proclaim, voice quivering. “I’m supposed to bear the pain so that you can breathe. Please, I can withstand everything; I can protect you from anything… but I can’t protect you from yourself. Tell me how to take this away. I will do anything.”

[freezerbrldes]

onanist - s.r. (teaser)

PAIRING. Vampire!Spencer x Fem!reader

SUMMARY. Overcome with intense loneliness, you seek solace from any spirit that could hear your prayers. An ancient dark entity answers those prays, only his obsession with you is more than you can handle…

WARNINGS. lots of mentions of blood, biting, dom!spencer, slight somnophilia, fingering, oral (f receiving), pnv sex, spencer is extremely possessive (none of these warnings are in this teaser)

AUTHOR’S NOTE. This is a teaser for my newest fic which is heavily inspired by Nosferatu (2024)! The title is from one of my favorite songs off ethel cain’s newest ep, which I listened to a lot while writing this. I’ve never written dom!spencer or anything this dark so I had some help from @primomover. She helped me get this started and I left in a section that she wrote. The full fic will be out this friday as an early bday present from me to you.

credit to @cafekitsune for dividers

For as long as you can recall, you’ve had this recurring dream where the most captivating and beautiful man you’ve ever seen appears in your room late at night. This man embodies all your deepest, darkest, and perverted desires, and he brings out a side of yourself that you never knew existed.

He revealed to you once that his name is Spencer Reid. You know nothing else about him, yet you’re irresistibly drawn to him.

You shouldn’t even entertain these thoughts. You were married, and you shouldn’t be dreaming about anyone except your husband. However, the enigmatic man from your dreams haunts your every waking moment.

All is quiet in your empty townhouse, save for the soothing sounds of the creaks and groans of the house settling into the night.

Your husband is away on a six-week business trip, and you can’t help but feel a mix of emotions: fear of having to face the intensity of your dreams alone, but also excitement at the possibility of giving yourself up to the darkness you so desperately craved.

As you descend into a deeper sleep, the familiar dream starts. You’re standing by the balcony door as it swings open, and the curtains sway gently in the wind. A large, dark figure enters the room, towering over you as the smell of decaying flesh fills the room.

“Why do you keep visiting me every night? Who are you?” you asked, your eyes memorizing every feature of his gorgeous face, your eyes stopping at his sharp, razor-like teeth.

Spencer chuckles at your words, his loud voice reverberating through the house, causing it to shake slightly.

“Don’t you recall me? Don’t you remember calling out for me?” He spoke, his icy fingers gently caressing your face, sending shivers down your spine.

"I do remember,” you replied. “I prayed to the Lord to end my solitude." I said gently. "To send me an angel."

"Is that what I am? An angel?" He asked. As cold as his lips were, his breath set you on fire.

You looked at him - his eyes seemed to glow as they looked at your supple flesh.

"I fear you are not." You told him. He let out a huff of a laugh.

"What is to say l am not an angel that was cast out by an unforgiving god?" He swept you around in a twirl, one arm keeping your waist pulled tight against his.

“No,” you replied, your voice trembling not out of fear, but with an overwhelming sense of desire. “You are something far more sinister than a fallen angel.”

His laughter turned into a low, menacing chuckle as he spun you back around, pinning you against the wall with his body.

"Darker?" He repeated, his voice dripping with seduction and danger. "Perhaps... but you find yourself drawn to it, don't you?" His hands roamed down your sides, fingers trailing along the curves of your hips and thighs.

"This darkness within me, it stirs something primal inside you," he whispered, his breath hot against your skin. "A desire to be consumed, to surrender to the shadows."

He leaned in closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear.

"And I will devour you whole, my child. Body and soul." His words sent shivers down your spine, both from fear and exhilaration.

You knew you should resist, but the pull towards this dark, mysterious being was too strong to ignore.

OUT JANUARY 17TH!!