#here. take it. *throws before heading to work*

[dollkuna]

the digest. clingy bf sukuna who can't stand when you go out without him :(

sukuna has a hard time taking no for an answer. so, when you told him your saturday date would have to be rescheduled, he wasn't exactly thrilled.

in fact, for the entire week leading up to it, he completely dismissed the idea, acting as if there was no universe in which you wouldn't be going out with him.

"are you wearing the black dress for dinner?" he’d asked, just a couple of days before, his voice a low rumble beside you. it was as if you hadn't already clearly laid out your actual plans. "you look nice in the black dress."

"i am wearing the black dress, actually," you hummed back, flipping to the next page of your novel. he was snuggled beside you under the warm sheets, comfortable and completely oblivious. "not for dinner, though. for the party. the one i'm going to. like i said."

in response, you’d gotten an grunt, which you’d taken as acceptance, or at least acknowledgement. that's why it struck you as so utterly odd, how completely shell-shocked he looked on said saturday, watching you get ready for an event that clearly wasn't a date.

"ryo," you sighed, seeing the storm brewing in his golden eyes. "relax." no, you weren’t betraying him, as sukuna so dramatically put it; you were just heading to a friend’s birthday party. "i really can't not go. it's a birthday. it only happens, you know, once a year. we can absolutely go tomorrow."

he narrowed his brows at you, arms crossed over his chest like a petulant child. "relax? this is treason."

as you carefully put in your delicate earrings, you shot him a quick glance. "jesus, baby. i'll be back before you even know i'm gone."

for a brief second, a flicker of hope crossed sukuna's face. "and… i can't come?" your boyfriend looked absolutely adorable, pouting like that. you didn't dare point it out, though, not wanting to risk dampening his already fragile mood any further.

instead, you reached out and gently pinched his cheek, and he responded with a playful nip at your finger. "no, i'm sorry. it's really just a girls' thing."

"you won't even know i'm there," he insisted, his voice surprisingly earnest.

you couldn't help but laugh softly, tilting your head at him. "you're a 6'5, pink-haired man, dude. i think i'll know."

"don't call me that. and you don't love me," he muttered, turning his head away dramatically.

just then, your phone buzzed, and you knew without looking it was your friend. a quick honk from outside confirmed it – your ride was here, and you needed to leave. "don't be like that. you know i do."

"then stay." his voice was firm, unyielding.

"no."

"i knew it," he declared, a hint of self-pity in his tone.

"stop. okay, fine," you huffed, walking over to where he was still seated on the edge of the bed. you stepped between his legs, placing your hands on his broad shoulders. "i'll be back thirty minutes early."

his expression didn't change one bit. "stay."

"one hour early," you tried, chewing on your bottom lip, hoping to appeal to his logical side.

"stay."

throwing him a look, you squinted at sukuna. "do you even know how bargaining works?"

"stay." sukuna's poker face held as steady as ever, completely unbreakable.

you ran your fingers through his soft, spiky hair, a heavy, weary breath escaping you. "alright, fine. two hours early, and we can cuddle and watch movies after."

he paused, a tiny flicker in his eyes, like he was genuinely considering this new offer. then, he shook his head slowly. "stay."

your shoulders slumped, and you let out a long, theatrical groan. "you can pick the movie."

"deal." he'd won, and he knew it, a smug, triumphant look spreading across his face.

either way, you ended up coming home three hours early.

[rcmclachlan]

tease tidbit tuesday

Tagged by @firehose118, @devirnis, and @ambernotember. Thanks, y'all 😘

Here's some more from the s3 alternate meeting au I'm working on.

+

Buck squints, because, "Wait, don't I know you?"

The guy, who looks like he competes in Steinstossen on the weekends, gives Buck a familiar smile—the same one he gave Buck a few years ago.

A four-alarm grease fire had consumed half an apartment building after someone supposedly tried to put it out by throwing a pot of water on it, and at least four stations showed up to beat it into submission. This guy had been climbing down one of the ladders with what must have been twenty kids on his back, and as he passed the window of the room Buck was in the middle of clearing, he smiled and waved at Buck through the glass like it was just another day at the beach.

"Hey, Buckley! How's the leg treating you, man? We were gonna send you flowers, but your buddy Chimney said you were a real weirdo so we sent that big box of whack-ass candy instead."

Amongst the explosion of flowers and wreathes and cards he'd gotten from people whose names he didn't know, there'd been a big box full of the strangest candy he'd ever seen: lollipops with ants frozen in the center, mints that tasted like roadkill, Carolina Reaper cotton candy, mac and cheese gummies, and chocolates shaped like dicks. He, Chim, Eddie, and Hen had laughed themselves to tears trying all of them one afternoon. Even Bobby couldn't deny the cactus candy was interesting.

Tied to one of the chocolate dicks—"cocklates," Chim cackled—had been a short note.

The bacon and cheddar cricket crunchies will get you back on your feet in no time. Get well soon! — Station 217

Buck bursts out laughing. "'Whack-ass' is right. Hey, Meyers, it's been ages. I-I didn't realize all of you were LAFD."

"Oh shit," one of them—a woman with broad shoulders and the most incredible mop of spiral curls he's ever seen—gasps. "You're the bomb guy! The one the engine fell on! I heard you were caught down the pier when the tsunami hit, too. I can't believe you're even walking around after all that. Don't even tell me you're back to work already."

"Y-Yeah," Buck says, eyes glued to a patch of the table top where the sealant is chipping away. "It's been an, uh, interesting year."

Tommy nudges one of his teammates further down the booth and then steps back so Buck can slide in. It takes every ounce of energy to actually do it, because even though he knows this woman means well, it feels like she's standing before a jury of his peers and listing all the reasons why he shouldn't don his turnouts again.

In all honesty, he should just call Chase and tell him to withdraw the suit wholesale. If a complete stranger thinks Buck shouldn't be back, then Bobby's definitely never going to budge on it. Eddie's never going to return his calls. Hen's never going to look him in the eye again. The days of daring Chimney to try a bacon and cheddar cricket are over. The 118's bay doors will never open to let him in again.

Thankfully, the din of the bar is so loud that no one can hear him sniffle as he glances toward the bar. Maybe they're hiring.

"Dude," one of the others chimes in. "I heard you were suing the department. I didn't know you could even do that. Maybe I can sue Cap for banning Mittens from the station, because that's just cruel and unusual. She gets lonely when I'm on shift."

"You bring your fucking snake to the hangar one more time, Nico, and I'll garrote you with it," the curly-haired woman snaps, then turns interested eyes on Buck. "But, are you? Taking the department to court, I mean."

Before Buck can excuse himself to the bathroom where he can have a good cry and then drown himself in a toilet, Tommy slides into the booth next to him.

"Actually, Jacinda, I can answer that one: none of your damn business," Tommy says sunnily. Without missing a beat, he reaches across the table to smack the guy with the snake upside the head when he opens his mouth. "Besides, I've got a better question: what's the deal with your kid, Benowitz? Did he finally ask what's-her-name to prom or what?"

Benowitz sighs, takes a long-suffering sip of his beer, and begins what sounds like a new chapter in an ongoing saga of his son Steven, who's been working on the world's greatest-slash-worst promposal for the last two months with no end in sight. Apparently trained doves are involved, and so is spcaLA.

Swallowing hard around the burr in his throat, Buck nudges Tommy's foot in gratitude.

Tommy nods at whatever Benowitz is saying, then nudges back.

+

No pressure tags: everyone who tagged me, plus @screamlet, @setmeatopthepyre, @beanarie, @geddyqueer, @freneticfloetry, @apollabarnes, @station18908, and @leashybebes

[dismalflo]

Hey! Can I request poly!marauders (or any one of them individually) with Reader who’s feeling anxious and just wants to be held because the pressure helps?

Thank you!

hi, darling! thanks for requesting! <3

poly!marauders x reader who is comforted while feeling anxious ✩ 900 words

“Alright, dove?”

Remus’ voice pulls you out of your haze, your eyes fixed blankly on the fireplace. You’ve been focused on your breathing – in for five, hold for five, out for five – hands balled deep into the sleeves of your jumper.

There’s a heaviness in your chest that settled there sometime after lunch, something tight and coiled, anxious and unmoving. You’d hoped it would ease once you got home. That maybe the familiar warmth of the flat, the sound of James’s laugh from the kitchen or the way Remus hums when he reads or Sirius’ lighthearted grumbling, might untangle it.

But it hasn’t.

You don’t look up. Just give a small nod and a non committal hum. 

Remus is quiet for a moment before you feel the cushion dip, he settles at the far end of the sofa. 

“S’funny,” Sirius says from behind you, where he leans in the doorway, an apple half-eaten in one hand. “That’s the same noise you make when you’re not alright.”

His voice is light, teasing, but there’s softness under it too. Like he’s offering you an out. Like he's saying you can say you're not fine, and I’ll still be here.

You try to smile, but it comes out crooked and small. Your shoulders are tight. Everything is tight. The sleeves of your jumper are twisted around your fists, and your lungs still won’t work properly, each breath catching halfway in.

Remus shifts again, the sofa creaking just slightly. You can feel his eyes on you even if you don’t meet them. When he speaks, his voice is low and careful.

“Dove… do you want a hug?”

You glance up, just for a moment. There’s no pressure in his expression, just calm warmth. Understanding.

You nod again. A little surer this time.

“Alright.” He opens his arms, patient and open, giving you space to decide. “C’mere, then.”

You move slowly. Anxiety makes your limbs feel leaden, like wading through something thick. But you go, inching closer until he can gently gather you in. His jumper smells like cedar and old pages, and the warmth of him is immediate. You press into it quickly.

“There you go,” Sirius murmurs, suddenly closer. You hadn’t noticed him moving, but he’s rounded the sofa, tossed his apple core in the bin, and dropped down beside you without fanfare. He throws an arm over your legs, pulling them over his lap as he shuffles closer, chin resting on your shoulder like it’s where he’s always belonged.

James arrives not with a bang but a door creak and the wet slap of bare feet on hardwood. You hear him before you see him, humming, off-key and content. It cuts through the fog like light.

“Without me?” he asks, mock-offended, when he sees you all bunched up together. A pair of joggers sit low on his hips and a towel is draped around his neck. His curls are dripping wet, water tracing a path down his throat you can’t quite focus on.

Sirius snorts, not lifting his head. “You’re slow, Prongs. Not our fault you shower like a bloody princess.”

“Oi,” James protests mildly, strolling in. “Rinsing conditioner takes time. This–” he gestures to the halo of wet curls–“is art.”

“You’re beautiful,” Remus says dryly against your temple, fingers tracing slow circles along your arm, grounding you, matching the rhythm of your breath. “Maybe bring all that over here, hmm?” he continues, with a subtle tilt of his head towards you.

James’s face shifts and softens. The theatrical pout fades, replaced by something gentler. He meets your eyes, and something in your chest settles. Their attention never feels too much. 

He crosses the room in three easy steps, tossing his towel toward a chair. He slides into the gap Sirius left, nestling in like he’s always belonged there.

“Hi, darling,” he says softly, brushing a cool, damp finger over your cheek. “Bit of a day?”

You nod again. But this one feels different. Your voice is still stuck somewhere behind your ribs, but your body answers for you, leaning into him. Sirius shifts, arm tightening around your legs just enough to remind you he’s still there. Remus’s hand never stops moving, steady and sure.

James opens his arms, mirroring Remus. “You want a squeeze, yeah?”

You hesitate for only a moment, then move into him. He wraps you up, warm and solid, chest still damp from the shower. Remus curls tighter at your back, and Sirius shifts to press in at your side, his knee bumping yours.

You’re cocooned now.

Held between them, it’s everything you needed. Compression. Containment. Warmth. The kind of holding that tells your body it doesn’t need to brace anymore. That you’re safe. That there’s nothing to run from.

Someone – maybe James, maybe Remus – starts humming low under their breath. Sirius mutters something about “sappy gits” but doesn’t move, he just tucks himself closer, forehead resting on your collarbone like he’s anchoring himself too.

You exhale. A real breath this time. Unmeasured, unforced. And it doesn’t catch.

The knot in your chest is lessening. 

“Love you,” James says into your hair.

“Mmhmm,” Remus echoes.

Sirius gives you a firmer squeeze.

You don’t speak. Just nod, curled safe between them.

And let yourself be held.

masterlist <3

[ssapphosviolets]

Atta Girl

Lovesick Puppydog Sevika x Reader

┈─★

Growing up in Zaun with not much money to spare usually means you either learn how to fix things yourself, or go into debt having someone else do it. So, when Sevika got her first car as a teenager, a busted up Subaru Outback, she'd quickly learned to fix things up herself. She mostly viewed having to fix up her car as a slight nuisance, annoying but necessary-

Until she met you, and came to understand the fun nuances of mechanical work. And while she never thought she would spend her off days in a car junkyard, it didn't take long for her to find enjoyment in it.

or; you and Sevika go on a date to the car pick-a-part yard

(i'm sticking to my hc that sevika drives a 1996 Volvo 850R Wagon and no one will convince me otherwise. this is my truth) ᯓ also ty to everyone who encouraged me to write this after this post i love all of you. ᯓ inspired by my most recent junkyard trip bc i snapped an ignition coil bolt on my honda and wanted an excuse to look for wheels for my celica ooops

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

You can't help but yawn as you pull up your pants, still not fully awake but wanting to get out of the house before the summer heat became too unbearable. When your eyes open to catch yourself in the mirror, you notice the lighting darken and create a shadow over you as Sevika steps up behind you.

"Morning, Sev." You mumble as her hands are placed on your waist. You reach your arms up to wrap around the back of her neck, leaning back into her strong chest and letting your head fall into her as she places a kiss on the side of your temple.

"Mmm. What's up with the cargos this morning, hun?" Sevika whispers. Her hands snake around to your front, carefully pulling up the zipper in front of your stomach before pushing the button through. She tugs a little on the belt loop as one of her arms comes across to hug your chest. "You already know, babe."

"Ah, that you're gonna leave me all by myself while you spend all day giving your attention to your car. You also have love for me too, ya know." You shake your head fondly, her teasing smirk letting you know she's not serious.

She doesn't get hung up on you spending your time on your hobbies. If anything, she likes it. It's an excuse for her to have time for her own, often joining you in the garage as you both do your own things, or if she's feeling up to it even helping you out.

"Come join me then?" You ask hopeful. She nods and kisses down your cheek to your shoulder. "Of course." She mumbles into your skin. She pats your waist before pulling away to get dressed.

"Oh also, can I borrow the Volvo again? Mine mighttt not have enough room." You ask in your sweetest voice as she rounded the corner from the bathroom. You don't have to see her to know she's rolling her eyes. "Of course you can." She sighs in defeat.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

"So what the hell are we actually here for again?" Sevika asks as you both get out of her car, shutting the doors. You catch up to her long strides as you make your way to the entrance of the pick-a-part yard.

"Uhh, well I need bolts for the Honda's ignition coils cause one of them snapped yesterday. I wanna see what wheels are here too. And whatever else seems like a fun souvenir." Sevika wordlessly takes the heavy bag of tools off your shoulder to carry it herself. "I think you have enough 'souvenirs', hun. You already have a collection of steering wheels." She teases.

"Okay but what if, in the next upcoming weeks I get, let's say a.. LS300. But the shady guy I bought it from took off the steering wheel. Oh look, I have one right here. You gotta think bigger, Sevika." You say as you tap the side of her head. She chuckles reluctantly, amused by your stubbornness, all the while deep down she loves it.

She throws a heavy arm around your shoulder, pulling you into her side. The sound of the gravel crunching under your guys's shoes follows the both of you as she hums, conceded. "You're right. Only cause it's you." She mumbles light-heartedly.

You smile up at her, admiring as the morning sun radiates onto her face. The patterns etched in the dark iris of her eyes glow in the light, and her dark tinted lips are relaxed into a slight smile. You love seeing her like this, especially when you compare this image of her to the Sevika you met for the first time, or the Sevika who's on the job.

The resting scowl she always wore turned to a content smile when she was around you. Her eyebrows didn't crease and her jaw wasn't clenched. Her eyes didn't look so pointed and mean, now they're soft and gentle. The way she carries herself is more relaxed, with her steps being lazier and clunkier as opposed to purposeful, and her shoulders aren't as tense.

She smiles down at you when she catches you staring, and you bashfully avert your gaze to the ground.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

While Sevika finishes checking in, you go off to grab a cart. She meets you and places the bag inside, and before you can continue she taps your hand holding the bar, gently shooing you away. You step to the side as she takes your spot, leaning her forearms on the handle as she pushes forward.

You lead the way with a hand on the side of the cart, ogling at the hundreds and hundreds of cars lined up in rows on jacks. Sevika stopped paying attention to the torn apart cars after the second row, instead finding herself fixated on you. This place really was like heaven for someone like you. And Sevika for that matter, who while not being into cars as much as you, had pretty sound knowledge of general mechanics.

Growing up in Zaun with not much money usually meant you either learn how to fix things yourself, or go into debt having someone else do it. So, when she got her first car as a teenager, a busted up Subaru Outback, she'd quickly learned to fix things up herself. She mostly viewed fixing up her car as a slight nuisance, annoying but necessary. Until she met you, and came to understand the fun nuances of mechanical work. She quite enjoyed it when she had to do maintenance or tune ups on her car now. And while she never thought she would spend her off days in a junkyard, it didn't take long for her to find enjoyment in it.

"The holy Honda land." You say as you and Sevika come up upon row 219. She stops behind you as you peek over one of the engine bays, rounding the cart to join you. "It's gonna be the bolt that goes into this little thing." You explain to Sevika, who nods intently.

Sevika knew the drill, and you both got to work. This car didn't have the bolts you needed, so you both continued on to ransacking the rest of the car in search of something that could be of use. Sevika rummaged through the interior while you checked around under the car for any spare bolts or screws that could be of use.

You startle when a car door lands on the ground just next to you, dust being kicked up in your face from the impact. Quicker than you could comprehend, Sevika's hand was covering your head while her other grasped onto the heavy metal before it fell further. Once your body recognized its safety, you couldn't help but burst out into laughter at the fallen door, a piece of the broken handle still in Sevika's hand.

"Well someone already got to the hinges." Sevika shrugged, followed by her own chuckles as she throws the door to the side. You guys repeat the same thing on multiple cars, engaging in conversation about your week or stories from Sevika's recent gambling stint at The Last Drop.

You cheer as the next car you come upon finally had the bolts still intact. "Found em?" Sevika said, amusement clear on her face. "Yes ma'am." She rolls her eyes at your response, but hands you your socket wrench. "Need a 10?" She asks as she searches through the sockets in your bag. You hum in response and she places the piece of metal in your outstretched palm.

You take off the bolts, handing them behind you to Sevika to hold onto until you were done. "Atta girl." She says as she takes them from you, not missing the shy and sheepish look on your face from her praise.

The both of you continue this for upwards of an hour, just rummaging through torn apart cars while talking. Eventually you retire the search of car parts in favor of hunting for wheels. Not even five minutes into rummaging through the piles of rims and tires, Sevika grabs your attention with a low whistle.

You look up and see her lifting up a chrome wheel, with what looked like almost brand new tires. "Oh my god, no way!" You trudge over the wheels on the ground to meet her. You inspect the little numbers on the tires on the rim, "right size and everything." You say happily. "Man I wish I lucked out this easily with mine for the Volvo. Had to pay out the ass for mine."

Sevika shook her head, effortlessly dropping the wheel in the cart as you picked up the other. Sure, Sevika was a gentlewoman; always holding your bags, opening doors for you, tying your shoelaces, any act of service she could think of. But she doesn't undermine your own strength either, instead watching with an ogling smirk as you load the last wheel into the cart, your t-shirt sleeves riding up and revealing your flexed muscles. "You're such a dog." You playfully hit her shoulder.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

"I'm glad you came with me today." You told Sevika as you made your way back to the car, this time covered in dirt, grime, and sweat, with pockets full of clanking of bolts and fuses. You continue, "I know rummaging around a junkyard isn't an ideal date idea, but it's one my favorite things to do with you." You both make eye contact, matching each others smiles.

"I'd do anything with you, hun. You know that." You stop at her car and turn around to face her, your arms reaching up to wrap around her shoulders. "I love you, Sev." She responds by pulling you in further by your waist, leaning down to catch your lips in hers. She squeezes your waist as her way of saying it back. "Let's get home and shower, yeah?" You nod, a cheeky smile finding its way to your lips at the idea.

[treeteaofversailles]

Fake Moaning? Not On My Watch…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

MDNI! This is my original work. Please do not post to another site or to AI. Thank you and happy reading!

Summary: You fake moan into Zayne’s ear, and Zayne shows you how that was a bad idea. This isn’t connected to the “Should Have Been Me” universe.

Tags/TW: Smut. No plot. Fem!Non-MC!Reader. Zayne is a munch and likes to get absolutely nasty with it :P. PIV smut, fingering, cunnilingus.

A/N: here's a Zayne *tosses and runs away*

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You leaned closer to him, turning your face and brushing your nose against his ear. Zayne thought you were going to give him a kiss on the cheek like you always had when you stopped by to visit him in his office while he was working. 

Instead, your lips nestled against his ear, and a shaky breath stuttered by his ear. 

And before he could ask you what you were doing, you exhaled the sweetest sound into his ear. 

“Ohh Zayne~!” You whined loudly. 

Your voice rang in his ear and sent shockwaves down his spine, settling low in his stomach. His cock twitched to life, instantly filling up the space in his cream-colored slacks. 

Zayne whirled around and glared at you, but you were already skipping out of his office. You even winked over your shoulder before closing the door behind yourself. 

He sat there for a few minutes, his ear still ringing with the sound of your saccharine sweet voice calling out his name like a siren. His face was so hot, he felt like he was going to ignite in flames. His fist tightened, and he clenched his jaw, trying to will the sound of your saying his name out of his head. 

He really needed to get back to work, or else he would be backed up for days. 

He took a steadying breath before he turned back to his work. Zayne pushed up his glasses and shifted in his seat, adjusting his slacks over his growing erection. 

Zayne kept typing, locking into the report so he could quickly get back to you. 

Meanwhile, you huffed, typing in the group chat with you, MC, and Tara. You tossed yourself on the bed, lying on your stomach as you texted your sister and your friend. Zayne’s t-shirt rose over your shorts as you kicked your legs in the air. 

“It didn’t seem to work, guys (╥_╥)” - You

“Told you it would take more than that to break the icy doctor (×﹏×)” - MC

“Don’t speak too soon~! Maybe he’s just finishing his work before he tends to you (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧” - Tara

“You could double down and send him a picture of you in lingerie or in his clothes. It worked for me and Caleb” - MC

“That’s cuz Caleb is already a freak (ಠ_ಠ)” - You

“(¬‿¬ )” - MC

“Usually, I just throw in that I have plans with another man, and then Xavier is all over me.” - Tara

“That’s cuz Xavier is possessive af bro Σ(°ロ°)” - You

“That’s cuz Xavier is a freakier freak… (┬┴┬┴┤(･_├┬┴┬┴)” - MC

You laughed at the conversation and continued typing away, completely unaware of someone creeping up behind you. It wasn’t until you sent another text, teasing Tara about the “bruise” on her neck last week, that you felt a pair of cold hands grab your thighs. 

You shrieked and dropped your phone before whirling around to see Zayne hovering over you, a dark look on his face. 

Your heart was slamming in your chest from the initial scare, and now it was beating harder from his eyes boring into you. The sweet emerald-gold of his hazel eyes was nearly gone, swallowed by the void of his pupils. 

“Had your fun yet?” he asked, his voice deceptively sweet, cooing in a faux innocent question. 

You tried to answer, but you shivered when his hands slowly slid up your thighs, going under the shirt you’d stolen from him. He massaged your hips and climbed on the bed, the mattress dipping under his knee. 

“You want to moan so badly? I’ll give you something real to moan about,” Zayne heaved breathlessly. 

You could only squeak in shock when he roughly dragged you to the edge of the bed. 

He kissed you roughly, drawing a soft moan from you. Zayne parted your lips and shoved his tongue inside, his giant hands grabbing at your body and tugging on your clothes. 

You crumpled under him, grabbing at his shirt. You kissed him back hungrily, ignoring your phone going off with texts from MC and Tara. You had more pressing matters to attend to. 

Like Zayne’s bulge pressing into your clothed cunt. 

You whined whenever the rough part of his slacks rubbed harshly against your increasingly soaking and aching pussy. 

“Zayne, please…” You whispered against his lips when he pulled back enough. 

“No. I’m going to have my fun first. You’re going to take it. And then, maybe, I’ll give you my cock,” Zayne’s gaze held your firm to the bed. “Understood?”

You swallowed thickly before nodding. 

“Good girl.”  

He yanked your shorts and underwear down in one go. Zayne spit on his fingers and brought them to your clit. He rolled the sensitive bud under his dripping fingers and smiled brightly at your squirming under his touch. “You’re so sensitive, aren’t you, sweetheart?” 

You could only gasp and cling to his arms as he circled his fingers faster. Your mouth fell open in a silent cry of pleasure, your breaths escaping in short bursts. Your nails dug into his shirt. 

Zayne began to flick the sensitive bud, and your thighs constricted his waist. You hastily grabbed the sheets with one hand and covered your mouth with the other. 

“No, no, no,” he tutted sharply. “Let me hear you, baby. Let me hear how good you feel.” 

He used his free hand to free your mouth. Zayne laced their fingers together and circled his fingers faster. 

Your stomach was fluttering with that demented heat of your impending orgasm. It clawed under your skin, stealing your breath away. 

“Z-Zayne, ‘M-!” You whimpered. Zayne pulled his hand away, and he gently made shushing sounds when you whined loudly, pressing his lips to yours. 

“You were always so sensitive… You always came so quickly… But not tonight, darling. Tonight, you play by my rules.”

Zayne knelt on the floor. “Just relax. I’ll take care of you as I see fit.” 

That shouldn’t turn you on as much as it should have. But you obediently lay there on the bed, your legs spread wide open for him as he undressed to his comfort level, loosening his tie and undoing a few buttons of his shirt. Your pussy was aching so badly and clenched under his intense gaze. 

“Now…” he grabbed the underside of your thighs, spreading your pussy open so reverently under his thumbs. His eyes were so dark, and his cheeks flushed a deep rosy shade. Zayne stuck his tongue out and licked a long stripe along your folds. His grip tightened when you squirmed. He only moved his tongue to your clit, flicking it a few times before he focused on your dripping pussy. 

You broke into a moan, breathlessly crying out his name. You pinched a needy whine in your throat, but earned a sharp slap to your thigh. 

“Louder,” he ordered, his cheek squished against your thigh as he lapped his tongue faster on your dripping cunt. He panted heavily, the short puffs of air making your cunt clench around nothing. “You wanted to moan like a needy little thing in my ear. Now you get to, sweetheart.” 

You squirmed even more against the bed, his shirt rising up higher on your body the more you moved. Your nails sank into the sheets, and your head fell back, his name ripping from your throat when his tongue wiggled its way back inside you. His name echoed around the bedroom walls. 

“Good girl,” Zayne cooed, his glasses bumping askew on his nose against your leg. He looked up at you with eyes so dark with lust, and a deep blush dusted across his cheeks. 

“You’re so beautiful,” He smiled sweetly at your before flicking his tongue against your swollen clit, watching with glee when you whimpered loudly, your knees buckling around his shoulders. 

Zayne went back to wiggling his tongue around on your aching clit. Her eyes rolled to the back of your head when he got his lips around it and sucked. You mewled as more of your juices were gushing down your legs. It was staining his face, and he was smearing it all over your face again. 

You choked air into your lungs and looked down, your stomach tensing tightly with the next impending orgasm. Zayne was still diligently on his knees and hungrily slurping up all of your juices and burying his tongue so deep inside you. His teeth bumped and ground against your puffy folds, grating your nerves raw with mind-melting pleasure. 

His glasses were fogged up from his hot breath and your juices covering the gold-rim lenses. 

Your stomach fluttered wildly, making your legs even weaker than they were now. You warned him of your orgasm by grabbing his hair and pulling the soft, raven locks tight between your fingers. 

Your hips bucked a few times before your body snapped like a bowstring pulled taut. Your rapid, high-pitched breaths came out in long whines and whimpers as you came all over his face, gushing on his pretty nose and his glasses. 

You rutted a few times on his face and obsessive mouth before you came to a halt, falling against the tree with your full weight. 

“Naughty girl…” he huffed despite licking his lips as if he had just finished savoring the finest sake in the land. Your head was spinning so fast you couldn’t catch what he slipped after that name, but you were able to catch his next part, “You dirtied my glasses.” 

Thick globs of your cum trailed down the gold-rimmed glasses. It barely hid the way his eyes bore into you. His eyes were dark, completely molten with his arousal. He pressed his face against your again, gathering up as much of your juices and cum off your body as he could with his tongue and smearing more onto his glasses. 

Zayne still held your quivering thigh in one hand and pulled his glasses off with the other. He stuck his tongue out and licked all over the lens before dragging it over the glasses' round shape slowly and tantalizingly. All the while watching your as he gathered up the thick globs of your cum on his tongue, painting it white. 

You weren’t able to apologize again when he got to his feet and kissed you hard. You tasted yourself on his tongue and mewled from your cum being smeared all over your tongue and lips. The heady taste of your arousal mixed with his lips caused you to squeeze painfully around nothing, the emptiness inside you suddenly, and agonizingly, unbearable.

“Ohh Zayne~!” you whined against his hot mouth, still fervently kissing your as if he were dying. Your hands went to his shirt and yanked it open, exposing his beautifully toned chest to the world. 

You undid his belt and drooled more at the feeling of his cock straining against his briefs. You barely got your fingers around the soaked fabric to expose his cock when he slapped your hands away. 

“Needy little slut,” he growled against your lips. “Turn around.” He slapped your still-exposed ass and you keened into his mouth. “Ass up.” 

You shuddered from his gruff voice ordering you around, your pussy clenching nothing. You quickly did as you were told, trying not to come again from how he was manhandling you. 

Zayne yanked your shirt up so hard that he shoved you deeper into the mattress. You stumbled to regain your hold. Her exposed pussy clenched from the cold air slapping against it and the way you felt his eyes boring into you. 

“Look at her,” Zayne purred. A thick and hot wet drop slapped against your cunt, causing your to flinch before you moaned when you realized he’d spat on your pussy. His rough fingers smeared his saliva more into your folds, combining his spit with your continuously dripping slick. 

  “A beautiful pussy for a beautiful lady,” Zayne kissed along your spine. One of his hands stayed on your cunt while the other snaked up your back and twisted into your hair, yanking your back when he got a good handful. 

You let out such a slutty moan that your cheeks flamed from how filthy you sounded. 

“All for me? Is this all for me, baby?” he cooed. 

You nodded instantly, pushing back against him and grinding up against his hard length. “Yes, sir! Yes! Yes, please! I want your cock!” 

Zayne moaned and hissed a breath in before slapping your ass, digging his fingers into your flesh before replying. “So needy for me… Gonna treat you right. I’m gonna make you feel so good.” 

You mewled eagerly. There was a soft shuffling of his underwear being pushed down and not much other preamble before he pushed his cock inside you. 

Your mouth dropped open and a long wanton moan was dragged out of your as each inch of his hard, throbbing cock was buried inside you. Your knees went weak instantly. 

No matter how much you had him inside you, you will never get used to his thick girth stretching your so taut around him. Every bump and grind of his veins running along his cock worked your walls open, stretching your so snugly around him. 

He was barely halfway in when you were already pushing yourself back against him. 

“Be patient,” Zayne grunted and slapped your ass again. But you knew he was equally as desperate from the strained timbre of his voice. He grabbed your shirt, twisting the fabric tight around his fist several times, pushing you into the sheets. “Stay fucking still.” 

“I’m sorry, sir!” You whined and looked behind you. “Just need you so bad!” You pouted a bit when he stopped, motivating your to push your hips back some more, pushing his cock deeper inside you. His drooling and obscene tip was so, so close to kissing your sweet spot that it was making your head spin even faster. 

“Come on, Doc,” you looked up at him from under your lashes. His jaw flexed as he glared at her, his hands tightening to the point of bruising the shape of his fingers on your skin. “Come on, I want you to fuck me alre—!!”

Zayne cut your off by ramming the rest of his cock into you. Her breath slammed out of your lungs. His name began to echo around the bedroom from your lips with each bullying hit. 

His cock pummeled your sweet spot, knocking your harder and harder into the bed. Your nails tore up the sheets, trying to grab for a stable hold. He wasn’t letting you catch your breath in the slightest. 

Every sound punched out of your body from his brutal thrusts and his own grunts and panting was pure music to your ears, filling you with a darker and hungrier need for the doctor. 

The rotund tip of his cock was grinding against your sweet spot. If you tensed your stomach enough, you could feel every drag and shove of his cock in you. 

Shit, he was going so deep you could feel him in your lungs. 

He let go of your shirt and found his way to your hair and yanked your back, sending thrilling bolts of pleasure down your spine.

“Feel me in your lungs, huh?” Zayne laughed hotly against your ear. You choked up a confused whine when you realized he heard her. “Feel me that deep?” 

He brought his hand to your front, pushing down on your stomach, making your feel his cock pummeling your insides even better.

You sobbed in ecstasy and squeezed the doctor’s cock tighter. 

Your thighs were quivering with each calculated hit against your increasingly overwhelmed bundle of nerves, shaking uncontrollably no matter how hard you dug your knees into the soft earth beneath her. 

The doctor was ruthless and unforgiving in his thrusts. His rough hands pressed hard on your body, molding you to a shape befitting his touch.

Tears streamed down your face, and you turned back to Zayne, his hand still wound in your hair. 

“Z-Zay…” 

Zayne turned his head and caught your lips in a heated kiss. You kissed him back, still whining and panting against his tongue as he licked into your mouth. 

“I’m so close! ‘M so—!” You shuddered. 

“Come for me,” Zayne pleaded, his hazel eyes locking with hers. “Come for me, my beautiful girl.” 

Your breath hitched in a sob and you cried out against his jaw as you came, your cunt convulsing around his throbbing cock. Her walls squeezing him did little to slow him down. Zayne milked you of your orgasm, securing your hips in his hands to chase his own orgasm. 

Zayne gave a few more deep thrusts before he spilled his hot seed inside you. He groaned loudly and lay over you, grinding his hips slowly to make sure his entire load was trapped inside you. 

You were breathing raggedly. You curled under him, humming softly whenever he pressed kisses to your face and exposed body. 

“Are you okay?” he whispered, his voice ragged. 

You nodded and turned around as best as you could, being pinned under him. You kissed his cheek. “Yeah,” you kissed him again, smiling when his lips were drawn back to yours again. 

“Had your fun?” 

You giggled and nodded, “Yeah.” You looked at him carefully, “It’s been a while. I missed you.” 

He hummed softly, his hands smoothing up and down your sides. “I missed you, too. Been too long.” 

You caressed his face for a few more moments, taking in the beautiful curve of his cheekbones and the slope of his nose. You kissed him, turning around slowly, carefully disloding his flagging cock from your cunt. You lay on the bed so your chests were pressed together and wrapped your arms around him, kissing him more reverently. 

Zayne’s hands traveled up and down your sides as he drank up your affection. You pressed their foreheads together, lying tangled in each other’s arms. 

[jaiwritez]

Phantom Pickpocket Part 2

You would think with all the cameras around that it would be easier for him to find ‘Bat Bait’ or BB as him and his eldest siblings have been calling him. After the kid turned invisible and ran off with the tires. He thought he was going to be able to be just track down the tires back to the kid’s little hideout but it seems the little ankle biter had critical thinking skills.

He tracked down the tires only for them to be on the roof top of an abandoned building. He checked the building from basement to attic for any signs of a kid or kids staying there. There was no signs of life. Its like the kid vanished without a trace……literally and figuratively.

Jason sighed as he kept checking his phone for oracle updates. He was sitting in a local coffee shop. Owned by an old Italian lesbian couple. They always made the best iced coffee after all nighters. Always throwing him and the local kids cookies on the house. Plus he always felt calmer in here.

There weren’t many people here today as it was raining outside. However that was fine by him as he was currently trying to unwind with a new book to get his mind and the pit off the kid. However given he’s been sitting there for 30 mins and hasn’t gotten past the second page, it wasn’t working. The pit was telling him something but he couldn’t decipher.

“Hun what’s wrong? I left yah a coffee cake on the table and you haven’t even noticed it.” Elena said walking over, throwing her towel over her shoulder. She was wearing a lightly opened white button up tucked into blue jeans. Her black curly hair was held up in her red bandana that matched her lipstick.

“Im telling yah. It’s that red head boy. If he dumped yah. I know a guy. We can have him sleepin in tha hahbar by mornin.” Her wife Cecilia called from the kitchen before coming out. She had her long brown hair tyed in a messy bun, wearing jeans, a black tank top and a white apron. Her hands and wrist were covered in flour.

He laughed at that. He was surprised that they even remembered Roy. He had only brought him by once. “No, it’s not about Roy. Who even said me and Roy were dating?” He said raising an eyebrow at the two women, who looked at each other then looked back to him.

“Honey you barely took your eyes off him.” Elena said sweetly.

“You were staring at his ass when he went to the bathroom.” Cecilia said bluntly causing her wife to laugh. “Listen kid I get it, he’s built well but let’s not lie.”

He could barely contain his blush at being caught out like that but smiled and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Me and Roy aren’t dating…. YET, but, I’m working on it.” He replied.

“I’m sure yah are. So if it’s not him. What’s eating yah.” Cecilia said walking over and bumping her wife in the rib at her joke. Elena smiled and rolled her eyes but looked back to him with the same questioning look. He felt the feeling of the pit pulling at him again. He sighed.

“Honestly. I’m worried about this kid. He stole the wheels off my bike and ran off. I’m just worried about him getting caught up in the wrong crowd. It also brought up old memories.” He replied.

“Ah. A fellow thief. Serves you right. I remember when you used to steal our metal spoons.” Elena said with no real bite. She looked up as if she was remembering the day with a smile.

“That was only one time.” He tried to defend himself.

“Three times and the last time you took fork. However I do remember you sneaking in and leaving a large wad of cash. After you got adopted.” Cecilia said crossing her arms and leaning on the counter. All he could do is chuckle.

“What does the kid look like? Maybe we can give you a clue or keep an eye out for him.” Elena said taking out a notepad from her pocket.

“Well. He’s not too tall. Very skinny for his age by the looks of it. He has jet black hair and almost unnatural icey shade of blue eyes. He was wearing a black hoodie but it looked like he had a scar on-“

“Hey I finished washing the dishes. Do you have anything else for me to do?”

THE KID?!!?

Part 1 , Part 2, Part 3 (pending)

[randomfandomswriting]

Mingi x Plus Size fem!Reader

When a secret crush on your friend leads to something more.

———

A/N: This came to me in a dream lol. I couldn’t help but think how Mingi would handle a bigger girl so I wanted to write something for us! (i am a bigger girl) So here it is! Please let me know what you think even if you’re Anon in my messages! and if you have any other one shot ideas (even fluff or angsty) im currently writing for Yunho/Mingi from Ateez and Yugyeom/Jackson/Mark from Got7… anyway i hope you enjoy!

Warnings: SMUT 18+ MDNI. unprotected sex (do not do this IRL this is fiction). Nothing too aggressive or rough, more passionate. in case it’s not clear: this is a work of FICTION.

Saturday night’s at Mingi’s apartment became a regular occurrence. It had been for months and tonight was no different. There were always snacks, drinks, and a good movie. The two of you would sit side by side and watch a familiar favorite and sometimes when feeling bold something new. You always looked forward to spending time with him, and if you were being honest you had a big crush on him. He didn’t seem to know, even though all your friends could figure it out. You wouldn’t dare tell him. How embarrassing would that be? To be rejected would mean things could or would change between you, and for now being his friend was good enough.

“That new girl at work asked me out.” He said sometime halfway through the movie, and your attention snapped to him. Watching as he put popcorn into his mouth.

“The one you were telling me about?” You ask. It had been a week or two since she started. Mingi told you all about how she’d follow him around the office and try to talk to him during lunch. He seemed unphased when he talked about it, but now it was interesting.

“Yeah.” He shrugged, placing the popcorn on his coffee table, “Tonight actually.” You felt your stomach churn.

“Oh” You managed throat going dry, sending you reaching for your drink, needing the alcohol to burn your throat so you didn’t say anything that sounded like a hint of jealousy. “Why didn’t you go? Can you still meet up with her? I can totally leave?”

He let out a short laugh, “Y/n, Saturday’s are our nights.”

You let out a short laugh too, your head spinning, “But Min… You could’ve skipped tonight if you wanted to go out with that girl… what does she look like anyway?”

He shrugged, “She has… blonde hair?” He furrowed his brows, “Honestly I don’t know… and besides that I didn’t want to go with her.”

You tried to mask the giant smile spreading across your lips, he clearly wasn’t interested in her, you tried to push, just to see. “Is she your type? Is she tall… thin? What color eyes?”

“Woah… I need to speak to my lawyer before an interrogation.” He chuckles, his deep voice rumbling. “I don’t like her.” he said, “She’s not my type.”

A silent cheer erupts inside of you, but now you have more questions. You’d seen girls who practically threw themselves at Mingi. He was handsome and tall. He was sweet and kind. You tried to think of a time he’d gone home with a girl, what she looked like, but you couldn’t think of one.

“What is your type?” You ask, the movie long forgotten though his eyes were fixed on the screen. He shook his head, a laugh escaping his lips again, his eyes moving over to you.

“God,” He sighs, “What's with you tonight?” his voice is playful so you don’t back track.

“I just thought about how I’ve never seen you with a girl… you never talk about it if you’re with them…”

“You don’t talk about guys you see…” He retorts, and you laugh.

“I don’t see guys.” You reply, finishing your glass of soju and reaching for the bottle.

“Why not?” He asks, you shrug taking a swing from your glass and looking back at him. You look for a lie, something so you don’t have to tell him because I like you stupid boy.

“I hate guys.” You muse, which isn’t a lie. He laughs. “Okay so now you.”

“I don’t see girls because the ones that throw themselves at me aren’t my type.” You raise your brows. Beautiful women have thrown themselves at him, you’ve seen it before, watched them flip their beautiful hair and flash pearly white grins. You let out another laugh, he had to be lying, you thought.

“So then what is Song Mingi’s type?” You ponder, and he blushes, your eyes widen. “Min!” You slap him playfully, “Is there something you want to tell me?” This whole time right in front of you it was clear, Mingi didn’t have a type of woman. He clearly liked men.

“You’re my type.” The words left his mouth casually, as he reached for the rest of the soju. You let out a short laugh, because, well, you were in shock. You watched as he finished off the soju. Your cheeks flushed more red, your skin burns hot. Maybe he was joking. He had to be right?

You hadn’t moved, you couldn’t even if you wanted to. You were frozen, and he made his way back. New bottle of soju in his hand. You just looked at him, and he took a few moments before looking at you.

“What?” He asked, “I- I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“I’m not.” you say quickly, “I’m not.”

“You’re the most silent I’ve ever heard.”

“I was just trying to see if you were joking.” He rolls his eyes, before they land on you.

“Why would I joke about that?” You sighed, maybe Mingi didn’t get it.

Growing up, in a bigger body meant things like that happened. You had to deal with people joking with you about dating or down right being disgusted by the idea. As you got older it became worse, with men wanting to keep you a secret, use you for sex, or meeting you and ghosting you soon after. That’s why you didn’t like to date. It was a mental torture.

“I just… I’m surprised.” You bring a hand over your face, “You’re just… You. and I’m me.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Mingi your a total babe.” You groan, “And I’m me.”

“You’re beautiful.” He snapped, “Every part of you. Including your sick little brain that tells you you’re not beautiful.” Your back to shock again, not to mention the butterflies he normally gave you felt more like giant birds. You had to pick your jaw up off the couch. “I like you. I’ve liked you for a while. And not just your looks either. Everything. You’re funny, smart, witty, kind… I just didn’t want to ruin our friendship, so since you don’t like me can we just please go back to watching the movie? We can forget I said anything, and just continue being friends.”

“And if I do like you?” The words leave your mouth faster than you can stop them, the soju giving you more courage that you would’ve had without it. He turns his head back toward you, now he’s in shock.

“Do you, really?” His brows furrow, and you hate how adorable he looks when confused. You nod, and watch as he closes the space between you, stopping to place his glass on the table, but his nose grazed yours. Your eyes flutter down and shut by the time his lips finally connect with yours, and it leaves you breathless. Still in shock it takes you a few seconds to take it in. The taste of soju on his tongue as it dips into your mouth leaves your head dizzy and your hands find his broad shoulders. Nails lightly digging into the fabric of his black t-shirt. His hands find the curves of your sides and more down to your hips, and though you usually hate it, you take comfort in the feeling of his big hands on you.

You had thought about what it would be like to kiss him for a while now, this was even better. He was good. He knew exactly how to move his lips and use his tongue, and you pulled him even closer to you, his body pressing against yours as your fingernails found the nape of his neck, gently running down his skin. He had done the same, daydreaming about kissing you, feeling your soft lips against his. He loved feeling your body, how soft you were in his hands, he loved feeling it when you even hugged him goodbye, this was heaven.

His hands moved up your curves fingers slipping under the hem of your shirt causing you to giggle, it tickled and you squirmed your lips parting from his.

“Is- Is that okay?” he asked and you nod, “We can stop if you want. Any time you want.”

“I don’t want you to stop.” You admit, blush creeping over your cheeks and he smirked, nudging you with his nose again, this time his fingers are hooking under your shirt, pulling it up over your head and you move to help him. Usually you’d feel like you needed to hide, but Mingi’s eyes on you made you want more of him. insecurity didn’t cross your mind as his lips met back with yours. He only lingered there for a few seconds, “You’re perfect.” he hums, his deep voice rolling out into your mouth making you move to kiss him. Your teeth gently nipping at his bottom lip, making him groan.

His lips only last there for a few more seconds before they’re moving down your neck and to your bare chest. His hands finding new places to grab and caress, your chest arching toward him involuntarily as he used his tongue to swipe against your warm skin. You couldn’t help but bite your bottom lip, his teeth sinking into the same spot he was kissing seconds ago. You moan as your body swells with heat. You notice the imbalance of clothes and reach to pull off his shirt, he moves to help you and clings back to your neck like two magnets snapping together. Your nails slide down his neck again, and over his shoulders and you can see the goosebumps that follow and he moans against your skin. You can feel him growing more and more hungry, his hands moving down your chest, a hand slipping under the waistband of your pants and between your thighs. You whimper your thighs parting to make room for him and his eyes find yours.

“So wet for me…” He rasps, “let me take you to my bedroom.” You nod rapidly, and he moves his hand to grab yours.

It’s a mad dash once you’re in there, your hands moving to his waistband as he moves to yours. He leans down to kiss you more, hungrier, sloppier than before. He gets your pants off and then his, before his big hands are back on you. He looks at you like a painting, and you’ve never felt more beautiful as his palms slowly move down your sides, every curve being caressed, his lips down your chest and stomach making you blush. He ends up on his knees in front of you and it makes your heart flutter to see his pretty eyes looking up at you. He looks so pretty on his knees, mouth ajar, lips swollen and pink, his tongue sweeping over them as he continues to admire every inch of you.

His fingers run up your legs and thighs and over the curves of your ass, where he gets a hand full and you giggle as his fingers hook into the waistband of your underwear, pulling them down. “Can I taste you?” He asks and you nod, blushing as he nods for you to sit on his bed. You sit back as he moves toward you, his lips finding your thighs, his hands hooking around and grabbing them apart, pulling you closer to his mouth. “I’ve dreamed about this.” He rasps as he begins to devour you.

One of your hands finds his hair, pushing it out of his face so you can see his pretty eyes, and he moans when your eyes meet his. His tongue laps at you, and he pushes further into you with his tongue as his fingers dig into your thighs holding you apart for him. He was good, and he was savoring the moment tasting you as he lapped at your arousal. His tongue moved up to your clit and his lips latched onto you making your moans falter into more of a cry, your head falling back onto the bed as you rolled your hips against his face. You couldn’t control yourself, and he was loving every second of being between your thick thighs. He was so vocal about it, his deep voice rumbled into you as he moaned and growled trying his best to keep you still. Your head is spinning when you feel a hand move from your thigh, and you can feel a long finger slipping into you easily, it makes you whimper and he adds another finger curling his fingers as he pumps them in and out of you.

“Mingi…” Your voice shakes as he continues to lap and suck on you, your orgasm starting to swell in the pit of your stomach, between his mouth and his fingers you weren’t able to hold it together. You were falling apart, your moans turning into squeaking whines, your voice shaking. He was hitting the right spot with his fingers and his tongue. He didn’t care to make a mess, burying his face between your legs, making sure he didn’t miss a beat in making you feel good.

“Come on, princess.” He growls, his fingers not stopping his relentless movements, “Cum in my mouth.” He rumbles and you didn’t have much of a choice, as you cried out a string of curses, your body shaking beneath him. Your vision was long gone as you squeezed your eyes shut your hands grasping for his bedsheets. He doesn’t stop his tongue, enjoying every last drop he can as you lay there your eyes closed.

“Fuck.” You breathe slowly pushing yourself up as he meets you halfway, red puffy lips still wet from you. You kiss him this time, sloppy, nasty, your tongue slipping into his mouth and when he returns his you suck on it, a hum from your throat. “My turn.” You pull away and he looks at you. Your hands reaching for the waistband of his sweatpants, you could tell he wasn’t wearing underwear, and it was confirmed as you pulled his long thick cock free. He’s hard already and you switch spots with him on the bed.

“I’ve dreamt about this…” He moans, as your hand wraps around him your eyes finding him as you lick a long wet line up his shaft, he bites his bottom lip, keeping his eyes on you. You stroke him slowly, using your saliva to keep him wet.

“Keep talking to me…” You say, “I want to hear how good I am.” You blink up at him before taking him into your mouth, just the tip at first.

“Keep those pretty eyes on me.” He rumbles, and you do as you use your tongue over his tip, swirling your saliva around him. “Take more, please.” He begs, and you oblige, stretching your mouth around him as he moans in a deep breathy voice, “So perfect.”

You start slowly, taking him as far back into your mouth as you can but making sure to pull all the way back. Your eyes still looking up at him as you take him further, into your throat, your eyes watering as you bob there, and he moans even louder. You moan too, around his length and the vibration makes him shudder. Watching his head fall back you take pride in it. You got him right where you want him and you take him until you gag but don’t pull off yet. You don’t dare as you bob your head more, and he growls a hand coming up into your hair, a tight grip on it as you suck in your cheeks pulling off him, your hands coming up to stroke him as you pull away, taking a breath his eyes finding yours.

You know you probably look rough, there’s saliva dripping from your lips, your eyeliner is definitely smudged from this or when he made you cum. But you’re watching Mingi lose control, his face red, his eyes fixated on you.

“You beautiful girl.” He rasps, and you wrap your lips around him again. His grip on your hair somehow grows tighter but he’s not pushing you, just holding you still. Then you feel his hips thrust up, his cock sliding into your throat easier now, and you moan around him. Your hands finding his bare thighs, your fingernails gently but firmly scraping into his skin as he fucks your mouth slowly. You’re expecting him to finish like this, you want him too, his brows furrowing as he lets deep moans roll from his throat. “Not like this.” He groans and you suck off him again, taking another breath he pulls you toward him, eagerly, his lips hungry.

“How do you want me?” You whimper, your lips still lingering on his. This ignited something feral in him.

“Turn around, grab that pillow… both of them…” You listen to him, following every instruction, “Under your hips, good.” You stick your ass out for him, without him asking and he growls at the sight of you, every single curve on display as you look back at him. A hand slaps your ass and you whimper and giggle moving your hips back towards him as he gets closer, lining himself up with you, and you brace yourself for him, your fingers curling into his sheets holding tight as he moves agonizingly slow into you. The stretch alone feels good, your mouth falling open as you moan. “So fucking good.” He groans, his palms gliding over your ass to your hips, grabbing tightly as he thrusts himself fully into you.

The feeling of him filling you is addicting, you need him to move but instead you grind back onto him, “Fuck.” You whimper, moving again. He lets you move, use him like a toy.

“Just like that.” He rasps, “Show me how good my cock makes you feel.” You throw it back harder, a little faster and you crave to hear him moaning more and more. His eyes admire the way your body moves, every jiggle and every bounce making him want more. You keep up a steady pace, the two of you just sounds of bodies crashing together and moans, whimpers, and growls. Your stamina starts to weaken as your stomach starts to flutter with the start of another orgasm, and you clench around him sloppily, sinking onto his cock until he takes over. His pace is relentless, energized, you don’t even move now, just trying to hold steady as he pounds into you. Your body trembles as he hits your spot and your brain gets foggy.

“fuck.” You cry, “Mingi…” you whine.

“C’mere. I want to watch you as you cum again.” He groans, and you hate the feeling of him sliding out of you, leaving you empty as you move over to face him, his hands scrambling for the pillows, “put these under your hips.” he instructs and you nod quickly moving them and he helps you into the perfect spot before slowly sinking into you, both of you letting out a shaking moan. He picks back up to the pace he was at, and you watch as his eyes fall shut, he uses his entire body to press against you as he grunts your hands reaching for his bare broad shoulders.

“Mingi—“ You cry, “I’m so close.” His hips slam into you faster, your words falling back into nonsense as one hand grips your hips, the other moving to your clit making your legs shake as both motions make your orgasm start to peak. Before you can feel him twitch inside of you, his own words become a deep growl as he releases inside of you. You followed behind, your eyes tearing as you cried out. Your body jerks away from him as your brain turns into mush, your body on fire as you continue to tremble beneath him. He stays inside of you, and you don’t want him to go yet as he leans toward you, his lips kissing yours lazily.

“Fuck.” He groans, and you nod in agreement.

“Yeah.” You breathe heavily, he slowly slides out of you, the two of you gasp in response. He doesn’t go far, immediately cuddling into your side, head nuzzling into the crook of your neck. His lips pressing against your skin, his hand coming up to turn your face toward him. “You’ve daydreamed about this?” You smirk, his nose nudging yours as he smirks nodding, suddenly sheepish.

“It was better than I’d imagined.” He grins. You laugh and shake your head before kissing him again.

“You should’ve told me…” He sighs. “We could’ve done this sooner.” You giggle again.

“Better late than never.” You shrug and he laughs now too. He sits up, and looks down at you with a smile on his lips. He looks so pretty now too, even with swollen lips and messy hair.

“Okay perfect girl, let’s get you cleaned up and get some food… and then we can do this again.” You let out a laugh as he puts his hands out to you, helping you up.

“We have all the time in the world now.” You smile, and he does too.

“I’m not wasting anymore.” He smiles before pulling you up with him.

[misayani]

someone has to say it .. and as a PROUD truther .. please give us your thoughts on bratty/sub jackie please and thank you, you are kind

thank you anon for this. sub n brat jackie coming your way <3 light nsfw

brat!jackie who gets aroused from the idea of people seeing her be so desperate for you, even after telling her to behave. can you blame the girl? the sight of you— furrowed eyebrows, jaw visibly hardening in annoyance—  was making her so wet, her cunt desperately clenching around air. 

ᯓ ➤ the both of you are currently waiting patiently for the cashier to scan the lingerie jackie picked out— well, you are waiting patiently. jackie— jackie decided to do something else. 

she's outwardly, shamelessly grinding her hips against yours. desperately trying to get that tiniest bit of friction, as her eyes stayed glued to the cashier, shooting an innocent smile towards the worker that looked like they wanted to give up on the job then and there.

your breath hitches— your right hand discreetly grabbing her waist to grip on it a little too harsh, making her freeze for a moment. "you going to behave, or should i leave you right here paying for your own stuff?" 

jackie's lips part, her eyes glinting with want. were you seriously expecting her to stop? it's jackie — jackie doesn't stop until she gets what she wants. 

thankfully, jackie detaches from your front and scoots beside you to finally behave. or so you thought. she slyly reaches for your hand, wrapping her fingers around your wrist, before guiding it lower, and lower— until your patience finally broke.

in the end, you paid for the lingerie. you payed for something you knew damn well you were going to tear off her body in a matter of seconds. but hey, it was definitely worth your money.

BRAT TAMING JACKIE TAYLOR. if someone else were to be in your place, brat taming jackie might actually be one of the worst things that ever existed in this world. if it weren't for your undying love and adoration for jackie, that girl would've been on your nerves 24/7. 

it's the way she doesn't back down. jackie likes toying with you—making efforts to think of ways to push you on the edge, acting annoyingly dumb most of the time, giving you the attitude whenever she got the chance to. she likes seeing her girlfriend all worked up. and just thinking of the things you would do to put her back in her place? it keeps her hot and going. 

ᯓ ➤ "what the fuck, jackie?!" you were dragging jackie along with you towards your parked car, before yanking her in front and letting go of her wrist. jackie furrows her eyebrows and started rubbing her wrist from how tight your grip was.

you watch her as she rolls her eyes while letting out a sharp scoff, "what?" she holds her head up high, propping her hands on her waist.

jackie was wet—literally. her top was drenched in booze shauna shipman showered her with. it was for a stupid reason. jackie just decided to act all bitchy to her bestfriend during the whole party, being loud and all, just enough to cause a scene. and to be honest? you couldn't even blame shauna for what she did.

you ironically let out snort, "what?" irritation was written all over your face. sure, jackie acts like a brat almost all of the time, you're used to it. but, it gets to a point. "you were being a total bitch to shauna for no reason!"

"hello?! she was eyeing you the whole night!" she retorts, throwing her hands up in the air dramatically. "are you dense? or maybe you're just blind. because how the hell didn't you see that way she was looking at you!"

wait what? how would you notice, when your whole attention was on jackie the whole night.

"i— i didn't see.." you murmur, trying to get hold of yourself.

jackie huffs, "course you didn't."

you sighed, "get in the car, jackie. let's go home." you stood still, waiting for her to move, but all she did was cross her arms against her chest and look at you challengingly. "no."

your jaw tightens, slowly taking a breath to try and not snap back. "please get in the car." the girl just shakes her head, holding her chin up. "i said no."

that was it. that's all that was needed for you to you lose your cool. you gripped her arm before leading her towards the passenger door. "fuck, you're going to be difficult?" your free hand reaches for the car keys from your back pocket before unlocking the door. you swing the car door open, before shoving her onto the seat. you slam the door shut, circling around the car to get to the driver's.

oh she's going to give you a hard time? you're also going to give her a hard time. the moment you both got inside the house and into your shared room (you practically dragged jackie's stubborn ass with you), you didn't spare her time for her to catch her breath. you grabbed ahold of her hair to tilt her head backwards.

jackie whines, arching her back so her body could reach you. "this is what you wanted, didn't you? huh?" you taunted, gripping her hair tighter. she quickly nods, opening her mouth to say something, only to let out a yelp when you hauled her towards the bed.

you sat down on the edge, before pushing her down and making her lay on her stomach above your legs. the damp fabric of her top pressed even harder on her skin, which made her feel sticky. "h—hey, wait—" she stutters. "shut up. i don't wanna hear anything else from you. you're going to count, you miss a number? we go back from the top, got it?" you clearly stated.

jackie lets out a soft whimper, slowly nodding her head to your demand. you softly caressed her ass, "you know your safe word baby."

spank—! "one." jackie breathes out. you smiled at her compliance, softly rubbing her skin before going again. spank—! "two—" she chokes out, her right hand reaching for her eyes to wipe away the tear that was threatening to fall. this was going to be a long night.

somnophilia with submissive jackie. the both of you had went over this, having a whole conversation about what you both can and cannot do in the relationship, setting boundaries, and having a talk about the sex. jackie consented to a lot of things, and the same goes for you.

but what mostly got her?

"—aside from that, it's also completely fine for me if you're needy while i'm asleep. i'm consenting to it." you shrug, leaning back on your hand that was propped up the backrest of the couch as you were faced sideways towards jackie. 

the fact that you just confirmed she could use you however she liked, even if you were unconscious. 

ᯓ ➤ jackie shimmies her underwear off, kicking it aside, the cotton fabric falling onto the floor. she looks at your sleeping state, noticing how some of your hair was on your face. she bites her bottom lip, crawling closer to you.

she then straddles your thigh, her hot core making contact with your bare skin. she needed this. a sigh falls from jackie's parted lips, before inhaling deeply. she's been wanting to do this—using you whenever she wanted. 

she starts moving her hips to slowly grind on your thigh. a soft moan leaves jackie's lips as she threw her head back, pressing her palms against your stomach. "mnnnhh— god"

a string of moans and praise leaves her lips, muttering how good you felt. "s'good— so good. please."

you were stirred awake. let's be honest, how could you stay asleep when your girlfriend's literally riding your thigh, no fabric separating the both of you, at two a.m. in the morning? you didn't open your eyes yet— you wanted her to continue with no shame. you tried so hard fighting back the smile that almost formed on your lips, so that you could let your girlfriend use your body to her own pleasure. it was undeniably so hot.

after feeling her body fall and shudder on top of you, you knew she came. you brought a hand up to caress her back, making jackie jolt up. "shit— you— you were awake this whole time?"

the girl got off your lap, staring at you with wide eyes. "you were so loud," you pushed yourself to sit up before running your fingers through your hair. "how could i possibly stay asleep? when you were whoring yourself out on top of me."

your expression was teasing, and it made the girl awkward— her cheeks flushed as she gulped. "i—well, you said you were fine with i—"

you cut her off by crawling closer and pressing your lips on her jaw. soft, wet kisses were planted, before you softly cooed, "mhm, i know i did darling. now be good for me and take what i give you, okay?"

𝒾. MISA'S THOUGHTS im so sorry this was lowk shitty <//3 was trying out new stuff (coughs—dom reader) thank you to the person who helped me out with a portion of this! ANDDDD !! thank you for 1 295 followers 🥹🥹 itsss crazyy amount! you're all appreciated lots 🤍.

[laceyluvver]

Summer Lovin’

summary: a hot one night stand ends in an unfortunate coincidence. wc: 2215 warnings: SMUT (mdni), piv, unprotected (wrap it), one night stand, riding.

____

The boiling hot florida sun beat down mercilessly, warming your skin as you relax back onto your beach towel, looking up into the blue sky. The beach was relatively quiet, only commuters and people who wanted a good spot. However, the sun was still shining and your tan was slowly building.

Slowly, more families filter onto the beach turning from a quiet peace where you could hear every bird chirp, to splashing, screaming and sand in between small toes.

You sit up, almost packing your bag and getting ready to leave when something catches your eye. He’s tall, dark hair and absolutely jacked. He kicks some sand behind him as he throws a ball to a small blond boy. He catches it and the man runs over to him, picking him up and spinning him around with a smile on his face. You were shameless ogling.

They go back to throwing the ball to each other. After five minutes, the man runs over to his bag, taking off his shirt. Suddenly, he looks up and the pair of you lock eyes. He smirked. Shifting your eyes back down to the untouched book in your lap, eyes moving over the words but not taking any of it in.

Then, a woman with blonde curly hair made her way over to the pair, hugging blonde boy. The wife, you assumed. Realising your fun was over, you pack up your bag and leaving the beach.

____

The night at the resort was much cooler, a light breeze pulls through the resort, making your hair sway slightly. The bar was busy, the dance floor was bustling and the music was loud enough to drown out your thoughts. Ordering some sort of tropical cocktail, you sip on it through the swirly straw, you hear a voice behind you.

“Aren’t you too young to be drinking that?” You spin around and it’s the man from earlier.

You smile. “Aren’t you too old to be drinking that? Might make you senile.” You nod to the beer he has in his hand.

He pulls out the bar stool next to you and sits down, leaning on the bar.

“How was your book?” He asks, a smirk on his face.

“Don’t you have a wife?”

Taking a sip of your drink you turn your head to look at him.

“No, the kid is my son, but the woman is his aunt.” He explains.

“Well then, my book was very interesting.” You reply, now turning your body towards him. “Came with a view too.”

“You are not shy.” He states, laughing and his shoulders shake. “How old even are you.” He asks.

“Twenty five, you?”

“Thirty eight.”

There’s a beat of silence between you, just staring at each other.

“Ten years, I hope i’m not too young for you.” You laugh.

“You’re not.” He responds simply.

“On vacation?” You ask, downing the rest of your drink.

“Yeah, I got two weeks off of work. What about you?” He ushers the bartender over and gets you another drink, the same as before, then a scotch neat for himself.

“I’m moving state, while the movers get my stuff to my new house I stopped off here.” You explain and thank him for the drink.

Suddenly, your favourite song comes on and you hop off of the stool. “Cmon you have the come dance with me.” You grab your glass and start walking backwards.

“Now that’s something I’m too old for.” He laughs and leans back.

“Well suit yourself.” You shimmy backwards onto the dance floor and stare at him and shook your hips to the beat. Spinning around, your skirt fanning out as you twirl.

“Come on.” You mouth to him at the bar and flap your hand towards him. Finally, he stands up and wanders onto the floor.

“I don’t dance.” He says from behind you, leaning down to your ear.

“Well too bad, I do.” You laugh and feel a hand slide up your ribs as you lean back into his hard chest. You can feel his pecs from under his polo and his other hand grips onto your hip.

"I like this dress." He murmurs into your neck, his nose pressing into you and his hand on your hip grips tightly.

“Thank you, it was expensive.” You giggle as the two of you sway to the beat, feeling the alcohol you take another sip of your drink.

The two of you sway and he spins you around so you’re now face to face. “Hey,” You whisper.

“Hey.” He responds, you look into his eyes and see that they are the same mesmerising shade of brown as his hair.

“Do you want to come back to my room?” You whisper, your finger running up the centre of his chest, feeling the soft cotton of his shirt.

“Yeah.” He nods, and you take his hand and lead him through the dance floor and into the hotel. The long winding and repeating halls of the hotel started to make you slightly nervous. Finally getting to your room you click open the door with the keycard and shove him into the room.

You are then quickly pressed against the closed door and he picks you up and you wrap your legs around his torso. Then finally your lips press against his and you let out a sigh, all of the previous nerves dissipating as your hands snake into his neat hair, leaving it a disheveled mess.

You pull away quickly. “I don’t know your name.”

“Aaron.”

You tell him yours. He reconnects your lips and you slide your hands downwards, and run a finger along his bulge, feeling the zipper on his slacks.

“You certainly don’t take things slow.” He sucks in a breath and now your whole hand cups him and you run your tongue up the length of his neck.

“Mm, why would I waste precious time.” You hum and start to leave a small hickey on the side of his neck.

He lets out a deep grunt and pulls you away from the door and quickly throws you onto the small bed. Your back hits the clean hotel sheets and you bounce lightly.

Crawling up the bed, he shoves a hand under your dress, pulling down your panties and shoves it into his back pocket.

Meanwhile, you pull up the bottom of his shirt and see the same sight from earlier on the beach. This time close up and personal. “Even better close up.”

You flip around and straddle him, kissing down his chest leaving light lipstick marks on his pecks and down through his abs. You can feel his fingers tugging gently at the roots of your hair, and you make your way back up to his face leaving another light kiss on his lips before pulling the top of your dress down.

“Holy fuck.” He whispers and his hands immediately branch out and massage you gently, his long fingers delicately brushing over your nipple, making you gasp.

As he gropes you, you slide your hands down to his slacks, pulling the button open and yanking down the zip. Then making quick work of his boxers.

“Oh my God.” You whisper in shock at the size of him.

“What?” He asks.

“You’re fucking huge.”

He gets shy at that and a light flush runs over his cheeks. “Well I’m not a small man.” He chuckles.

You feel his hands sliding down to your dress, then pulling off the bottom half. Leaving the both of now completely undressed and staring at each other.

Shuffling up, you grab him and start to slowly sink down onto him. He groans, you gasp and paw at his chest hair.

“So big.” You whisper breathlessly and slowly grind back and forth to get used to his size. He grabs at your hips and guides you slowly before you start to bounce up and down, your fingers digging into his shoulders.

You swept your hair back, tits bouncing in his face as you make small noises, trying to not disturb the rooms next to you.

Suddenly, he pulls you to his chest and starts fucking up into you roughly and you can’t help the loud, eye rolling sound that fell out of your mouth. “Aaron.”

You can almost hear the smirk in his voice. “There we go.”

He keeps up the rough pace and the headboard starts to bang against the wall and your moans and his groans start to get louder.

“Oh fuck.” You almost scream as you get close to the edge and you can tell he is too, by the faltering pace of his strokes.

Whimpering, your legs shake lightly and he pushes you over the edge with one more deep stroke hitting directly on your sweet spot.

Aaron pulls out, cumming inbetween the two of you and you both lay there for a second, before you start giggling.

“That was so fucking good.” You sigh and roll off of him.

“Agreed.” He chuckles, then shuffling off the edge of the bed and going into the bathroom then coming back with a wet cloth. Cleaning the both of you up he sighs. “I should head back, I’ll need to see Jack when he wakes up.”

You smile. “You here for much longer?”

“No, we’re leaving tomorrow afternoon. You?”

“Me too.” You can’t help but disappointed that you’ll never see him again. “Well, I’ll let you go.” Wrapping the hotel robe around your frame, he gets dressed and heads out.

“Thanks for the-.” He starts but you cut him off.

“Thanks for the..” You smile and give him a small wave before clicking the door shut and flopping back on the bed.

It wasn’t till the next morning that you realised that he’d stolen your panties.

“Motherfucker.”

____

“Hotch has a hickey.” Derek says as he watches his boss stride through the bullpen.

“What?” Jj spins around on her chair and whips her head around to look at him.

“Well he did just come back from vacation.” Spencer says, shrugging.

“Now what are you guys gossiping about?” Rossi comes up behind them placed his briefcase on the floor.

“Hotch has a hickey.” Emily explains.

“Well good for him.” Rossi answers simply then heads up to his office.

Rossi walks into Hotch’s office and slowly shuts the door behind him. “Well I guess someone had fun on vacation.” He laughs.

“So everyone knows.” Hotch replies simply and continues writing.

“Of course.”

Back in the bullpen, the rest of the team look through the window expectantly.

“So unfair Rossi gets all the deets.” Penelope sighs leaning on Derek. “We could give great advice.”

“I think that’s why he doesn’t tell us.” Jj smiles.

Before Penelope can respond the elevator opening catches their attention and out walks a woman, formally dressed carrying a file.

“Can I help you?” Emily asks.

“I’m looking for an Agent Hotchner, I have an interview.” You say.

“Oh yeah, I’ll take you up to his office.”

You follow behind her nervously as she knocks on the door.

“Hotch, your interview is here.”

She opens the door wider and you are greeted by an awfully familiar face. A flicker of shock flashes through your eyes but then you remember you’re surrounded by profilers, steeling your expression, you give a small wave.

“We will continue this later.” Rossi says pointing at him, filing out of the office with Emily.

“Take a seat.” He says, motioning to the chair infront of his desk.

“Here’s my credentials.” You say awkwardly and hand over your file, avoiding his eyes.

He flicks through it slowly and reads through everything thoroughly.

“You have great agent experience, lots of field experience for someone your age.” He states. “Show me your profiling skills.”

“What.” You stutter out.

“Look out the window and profile my team.”

You stand and look out the window.

“The blonde got ready in a rush this morning. Her clothes are similar but not from the same set. She is closest with the two women on the team, the other blonde and the woman who showed me in here.” You start. “The bald guy is the joker, he’s making everyone laugh, has a crush on the colourful blonde. And they’re also all wondering why they’re staring at them.”

“Good.” He says simply, turning and sitting back at his desk. “Expand on the crush comment.”

“His body is turned towards her, he wants to make her laugh the most and looks happy everytime she leans into him.” You sigh.

“I’m not sure if you’ll be a good fit for our team.” He starts.

“I think you should know I come heavily recommended by Strauss. And she wouldn’t be too happy if you turned me away from this role.” You respond.

You see his jaw clench. “Fine. You can have the position.”

“Thank you.” You say with a tight smile and stand up. “Let me know when you want me to start.” Walking towards the door of his office you pause and turn back.

“Oh and I want my underwear back.”

____

Hey gang!! i’m finally back and writing!! sorry if this is a bit shit as it’s been so long but i hope you enjoyed. PLEASE LIKE FOLLOW AND REBLOG!!!!!!

let me know if you want a part 2!! or leave requests in my inbox!

[rori-is-writing]

Conflict of Interest

A The Pitt Drabble Series.

Drabbles | Teen | Dr. Robby x Nurse!Reader | 669 words ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ Summary: An unwanted visitor walks into your E.R. ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ Tags: Angst, Doctors Behaving Badly, Implied Childhood Sexual Abuse, Nurse!Reader

Read on AO3 or below the cut.

[ A/N: Yes, this is longer than 500 words and I'm technically breaking my own rules about what a drabble is but this idea hit me like a freight train the other day and I couldn't not write it. So shhhhhhhhh. ]

You have always been a standout nurse. A tough nurse. You’ve been hit, pushed, spat on, and groped and all of it you’ve taken in stride and continued on like some stoic Buddhist warrior. 

But not today. 

Because today…he came in. 

The moment you walk into the room and see his face it’s like you’re an animatronic that had glitched mid-loop. Your skin feels hot. Your heart thunders in your ears. Your brain goes all staticky. 

“Oh would you look at that!” The older man says with a delighted smile. “I didn’t know you worked here sweetheart—“

But you don’t hear the rest because you’re already backpedaling out of the room and back into the hallway. 

You can feel your skin tingling like thousands of tiny spiders are skittering over it. You want to throw up. To cry. To run out of this hospital and never return. Instead, for possibly the first time in your entire career, you march up to Dana at the nurse’s station and say, “I need someone to switch patients with me.”

Dana frowns. 

“Excuse me?”

“I need a different patient. Any patient. I’ll even take Princess’s fecal impaction.”

“You will?!” Princess gasped hopefully. Nobody ever wanted the fecal impaction cases. 

“Why do you need a different patient? What’s wrong with him?”

You swallow. “He’s my uncle.”

If anything, Dana looks even more confused. “I know nobody is supposed to treat their family and friends but you know nobody here is going to rat you out to admin if you decide to do it anyway right?”  

But you’re already shaking your head. “That’s not why. I just…I can’t treat him. Please get someone else to do it.” And then, without another word you walk away, heading straight for the hallway that leads to the stairwell. 

You need some air. 

Now. 

Fifteen minutes later, Dr. Santos finds you. You stare up at her from your perch on the bottom steps, waiting for her to tell you to get back to work. That you’re pathetic for hiding back here instead of just doing your damn job and treating the harmless old man like you’re supposed to.

Instead, she surprises you. 

“He did something to you.”

You don’t say anything, but you don’t have to. It’s written all over your face. 

Her lips thin. 

“I thought so.”

You glance away, wringing your hands to keep them from shaking. 

“Want me to take him?”

You blink.

“…What?”

“As a patient. I’ll take him.”

Your eyes blink even faster. Did…did you hear her right? “But…why?”

“Because you need someone to be mean to him. And I’m amazing at mean.”

You don’t know whether to laugh or cry or throw your arms around her in an embrace. 

“Okay,” you croak instead. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.” She said, strangely kind, before a glimmer appears in her eye. “So…how mean we talking?”

You can’t help but laugh, a strangled, pitiful sound if you ever heard one. “Mean enough that he never comes back here again?” 

This time, she smiles.

“You got it.” 

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

It’s only later—when you’re finally off the clock and indulging in a greasy, well-deserved dinner with Robby—that you hear what happened. 

“Do you know anything about the patient we had today who stormed out of the E.R.?” 

“Oh?” You say casually, knowing immediately who he’s talking about. You hadn’t been there to see it—having been assisting with a complicated trauma case at the time—but you’d heard plenty about it afterwards from your fellow gossipy nurses. 

“Yeah, apparently Santos decided to do a rectal exam. Even though, according to his symptoms, he had no need of one.” He eyed you carefully. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that would you?”

“Did she?” You say innocently. “Well, she’s the doctor. She would know better than me.” 

He sighed. 

“Do I wanna know?” 

“Not today,” you tell him as you steal his french fry. “Let’s just…enjoy this. Okay?” 

His eyes soften. 

“Okay.” 

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Thanks for reading! 💙

[noctiva]

okay but how would the guys react to the reader breaking up with them?

aha! the flip side!

Toby: Goes through four stages of grief in the span of like, ten minutes. everything except for acceptance. he won’t ever truly accept it. it could be literal years later and he’d still be dreaming of you, still touching himself to the thought of you.

the day it actually happens, he’ll try to play it off at first. hit you with a ‘th-that’s not fuckin’ funny’ with a soft snort and a roll of his eyes. like you being serious wasn’t even an option. but of course, you’ll insist - and that’s when the dam breaks.

first comes the anger. his eyes sharpening into a glare as his jaw sets. accusatory in every word he spits at you. throwing every single thing that he’s every done for you back in your face. glossing over everything he’s ever done wrong. hoping that maybe you’ll fight back - maybe you two can just get into another fight like you always do, and end up tangled up together in his sheets by the time night falls.

but that doesn’t happen. you just take it. just listen silently as you pack your things - already detached. and that’s when it really sets in. the anger will simmer, and then he’s apologizing profusely. offering up things he can’t even give you, all in the hopes of changing your mind. and when that doesn’t work? he just breaks. a mess of ugly sobs and hands trying to pull you to him. pleading. begging. borderline grovelling at your feet.

you’ll leave him a mess of tears. he probably won’t move from his spot on the floor for hours. days maybe.

- “W-What do you want? What can I d-do to make you stay? Just name it - I’ll g-give it to you.”

-

Jack: Just so incredibly cold. Like the moment you utter the words, every ounce of affection he held for you fizzled into smoke. You can practically see it when the switch in his brain flips, how his entire body tenses up, how his lips set into a firm line. He won’t say anything for a good long while. He’ll just stand before you, waiting, like he’s giving you a chance to take it back.

‘Jack? Did you hear what I said?’ To which he’ll just reply with a snippy; ‘I heard you.’ And barely elaborate further.

He won’t let you in. Won’t let you pry into his mind in an attempt to figure out how he feels about all of it. He’ll keep it all locked far deep down, under a shroud of bitter nonchalance. If you didn’t know him better, you’d almost think he didn’t care - but the slight tremble in his fingers proves that otherwise.

He won’t fight you. He knows better than that. Though he loved you to the ends of the earth, he knew he wouldn’t be able to continue on with you after this. Knowing that you don’t wholeheartedly want to be with him.

He’ll leave silently. Give you short, simple answers to every question you ask. Leave you second guessing if this was even the right decision at all.

- “What? Did you want me to scream? Beg? Cry? I’m not giving you that satisfaction.”

-

Brian: Horribly toxic. Blackmail supreme over here. You sit him down, tell him you want to break up with him, and the first thing he’s saying is, ‘are you sure you want to do that? with all the shit I have on you?’

And you know he’s right. He has drawers full of tapes depicting you in the most compromising positions known to man. Taken with the promise that they’d only be for his eyes. But, that was on the basis that you’d stick around. He’ll be patronizing, cruel, dangling this threat over your head with a raised eyebrow - daring you to have the guts to still go through with it.

Promising you that no one else will ever want to be with you after him. A little too calm, a little too composed. Like he’s so sure deep down that you’ll cave under the weight of what he’s saying and just roll over.

But if you don’t? If you hold your ground? You can just barely see him crack. A little twitch in his jaw, his gaze hardening over. The way his eyes flick away from you like he just can’t the sight of you any longer. He’ll freeze over until you gain the courage to pack up and leave. All that confidence lost, swapped for a silent resignation.

Won’t say a single thing to you on your way out the door.

(And he probably won’t actually make true on his threats, he was just really banking on that working).

- “Fine. Leave. See where it gets you.”

-

Tim: Just resigned acceptance. He saw it coming from the start, never really expecting you two to be in it for the long haul. He hoped that maybe you’d go against the odds, but he was smarter than to bank on that. Your life didn’t mix with his. He took a risk letting you in. He had set himself up, and he knew it.

It’s his shoulders slumping. His expression dropping. The slight quiver when he lets out a deep sigh and lets his eyes flutter closed for a moment like he’s trying to shut it all out. He doesn’t ask why, because he knows why. It’s everything about him. And he’d rather spare himself the burden of hearing that fact come from your lips.

He’ll be silent for a good long while. Reach into his coat pocket with trembling fingers, pull out his pack of smokes, light one and take a few drags before he speaks a word. And when he does, it’s just all apologies.

Apologies for dragging you into this in the first place. Apologies for wasting your time. For getting your hopes up. For making you believe that you could be the cure for everything that plagues him.

He won’t look at you the entire time, because he just knows he’ll break - and he doesn’t want to burden you with that too.

- “‘Bout time you smartened up. Always knew you deserved someone better.”

-

Cody: Really doesn’t know how to handle it - and maybe that was the issue all along. His good with the physical aspect of humans. The blood, the flesh, the chemical reactions. What he’s not good at, is the mind. The emotions. The inner workings of relationships, and person to person connection. He really tried with you, broke out of his shell in an attempt to let you have that closeness you craved.

It feels like an insult to have it thrown back in his face. He’s not upset, he’s offended, a silently brewing anger simmering in his veins with every word you speak. It just feels like he wasted so much time. Put in so much effort into something that ultimately proved fruitless. Like a failed experiment, but this time it affects him deeply. Like you were taking one of his limbs with you when you left him.

Asks you so many questions it makes your head spin. Why are you leaving him? What specific thing did he do? What could he have done better? Do you really truly believe there’s nothing that can fix this? Why are you giving up? Why don’t you want to try?

He’ll let you leave. He won’t beg and plead, but he will borderline interrogate you before he stalks back to his lab and shuts himself in there for the next week and a half.

- “All that time wasted. Such a needless distraction.”

-

Habit: Laughs in your fucking face. Cruel and mocking. Near doubles over with it. The type of laughter that absolutely stuns you, with the way he wheezes and cackles, wipes a tear from his eye and shakes his head like you’ve just performed a comedy special for him.

To him, you have. Because that’s fucking rich. You leaving him? As if you had that choice. It’s comical to him how you’d even entertain that thought, that you thought it might just be as easy as showing him the door and expecting him to walk through it. It’s not happening. Not by a long shot.

In fact, when you call him cruel, he’ll show you just exactly how cruel you can be. You hate him now? Let’s see how much you hate him when he chains you to the bed and leaves you there. Chuckling under his breath about how stupid you are. How you should’ve just kept your mouth shut, and appreciated the fact that he was being easy on you this whole time.

So, no. You will not be breaking up with him. This relationship ends on his terms, and his terms only.

- “That’s cute. You think you get to make that choice?”

[gumilac]

"have you seen them?"

TSUKISHIMA walks over to kuroo who was getting his fill of grilled mackerel in the food table—weird, kei thinks. who serves that? then remembers that kuroo hosted this gathering, hence the variety of food.

"sorry, who?" kuroo looks at him, who stopped midway in placing the fish on his plate. kei says your name and kuroo squints his eyes, looking at the crowd before setting his amber hues back at his junior.

"oh, i don't think i have," he pauses, "have you not seen them?"

"do you think i would be looking for them if i have?" kei deadpans, and kuroo scoffs. a soft laugh leaving him as he shakes his head. "you have not changed."

"tch," kei's shoulders slump a little and it does not go unoticed by kuroo, but decides to not push any further.

"but, to answer your question, i have not seen them."

a knowing smile sets itself on kuroo's face as he looks at a slightly dejected tsukishima, who's trying so hard not to show the fact that he's bummed you're not around.

"i'm sure they'll turn up," kuroo nudges kei with his elbow, giving him a smile, "i did invite them here."

he hums in acknowledgement, and kuroo pats his back before waking away. kei lingers at the table and scans the food kuroo has prepared. he notices a bowl of strawberries in the desserts area and decides to grab a piece. taking a bite, kei crosses one arm over his chest as the other rests on it while he eats the strawberries.

as he leans on the table, his eyes scan the crowd, looks at the door, waiting for you to come in. he's unaware to the looks he's getting for staring at the air, his brows knit in thought. poor party-goers skipping the strawberry bowl, supposedly for their cakes.

he's already gone through half the bowl of strawberries when suddenly, he finally sees your smile amongst the crowd.

his eyes widen and he chokes as throws the leaf on the table—messy, he knows. but, you're more important than that—standing up straight, kei brushes the wrinkles on his shirt and walks over to you. his mind races, heart beating quickly like hooves of horses running, and he's so pumped to finally see you after so long. it takes a few quick long strides to get to you, and he greets you breathless.

"hey..." he nervously runs a hand through his blond locks as he meets your eyes, "you made it."

"hi," you greet cheerfully and his heart aches—how adorable.

"how have you been?," he pauses and suddenly remembers your trip, "how was italy?"

clasping your hands together at the front, you bounce on your heels, feeling the excitement run through you as you recall the events of the past three weeks.

"it was great!" you quip, eyes gleaming, "the colosseum's huge and hmm..."

kei looks at you, focuses on you and notices how you've never changed. you still do your little habits that has his heart in a hold. he lets his guard down and lets you in, allows you to melt his stone-cold of a heart.

kei's old enough to.

"kageyama's still amazing as ever, and–" humming, you raise a finger, "oh, i just remembered! the museum in vatican city is amazing! we should go there sometime!"

"we should, shouldn't we?" he smiles at you, and you laugh. your giggles making his heart jump in loops like a little kid in a candy store.

"mhm hmm," you smile and he literally feels his knees weaken. but for having years of practice, he's gotten so good at swooning for you that you'd never really notice. not unless he lets you to.

"you'd love it there."

he nods his head, and listens to you continue with your stories.

aki's notes. someone who would find you in a crowded room >>> quick tsuki fic before i go back to work bc i missed him a lot

[rinsnumber1fan]

Sae itoshi x reader

[Reader is sae's manager][nsfw content ahead!]

he can't control himself but he has to.

When you two get into a stupid fight and haven't been talking but one particular night he takes things rather personally.

You and Sae were closer than just manager and player, you were like friends. You'd tease him constantly and he'd pretend not to see you. Still he was better than most men you'd been friends with before.

Today was.. however a bit different. You and Sae got into a stupid childish fight about how you threw a pillow over his face to get his attention when he was ignoring you and then he crashed out on you.

You knew you shouldn't have!! But ugh, its not like he hasn't hit you with a pillow before!

Glancing at the time which hit 12:45AM You arrange your stuff in your office which ego designed specifically for you to do your work properly. The door that was closed had a familiar knock placed over it the sound echoing in a distance.

"You can come in!!"

You said as you tried to arrange the things on the top shelve and tried to get out a certain file.

The man had entered your room and placed some thing you considered to be a register down on your table without saying anything. You hummed in acknowledgement, "jus' keep it right there! I'll keep it in a min-"

the file you so desperately tried to reach at the top of the shelve was now being accompanied by saes hand, slowly drifting the file down the shelf was when you realized just how close he was to you.

Your back pressed against his chest, his hand right above your head like he was pinning you.

You quickly look back only to regret how close he was to you, "your file." He said in a voice which would be his usual voice but it wasn't. It was deeper, raspier.

His eyes were locked onto you like he was trying to focus on something else but he kept being drifted back on you.

You froze for a moment, "..thanks.." you replied shortly, but he didn't move.

Just stayed there not moving an inch.

His eyes half lidded as he looked down at you, unable to stop himself from leaning his head lower and lower. He wasn't even doing it himself it was like a.. magnetic pull.

"You know," sae started, breaking the silence.

You looked back up at him, he seemed to be,

Undressing you with his eyes.

Half-lidded trailing over and under your body, your lips, just thinking about how how you'd look if he could do all sorts of things to you in this office right here over the desk.

But he had to stop himself...

He tried to.

He gulped lowly, "you're too naive."

You blinked twice at his words, you expected 'can I kiss you?' Or something romantic after all that tension but he just insults you?!

"Naive? Please, you're still mad at me for-" the words caught in your throat are lost as thoughts only when he pushes you back against the shelf and pins your hand over your head making you feel unbearably exposed.

"You'd just let any guy in your office after midnight, hm?" He asked like he was mocking you.

"You really are naive." He fought back a smirk.

You scoffed, not making any effort to push his hand away from your wrist because you liked how it felt and shot back, "but I know you're not that kind of guy!"

You sounded so sure of yourself.

"Really?" He stepped closer and closer and suddenly friend didn't seem to good of a title to describe whatever this was. "You trust me, that much?"

He asked leaning closer and closer. Your heart races, you want this its all over your face and body. The way you look up at him so longingly and then he pulls back

He pulls back.

Putting his hands away, "im sorry." He said before turning around and going to rhe door to avoid you for the rest of his life but you grab his wrist, "dont be sorry!" You frowned but a rosy pink blush appeared on your cheeks as he turned back to see you. "....huh?" He deadpannned.

"I'm...I.. uhh.." you stammered having nothing to back it up.

"Nevermind! g-good-bye!!" And you slammed the door shut after throwing him out.

He might not avoid you after all.

I wrote this half asleep pls send help if anything seems stupid or wrong and also pls don't be mad there's no real smut because we'll he's supposed to control his urges and I thought it's hot when he's kinda holding back and shiii type shi 🤑🤑🤑🤑

[scary-grace]

The Yawning Grave - a Shigaraki x F!reader fic

Tomura and his friends might look like a team of paranormal investigators, but they're actually professional hoaxers -- every episode of their hit show has been faked. The episode they're filming in an abandoned town in a temperate rainforest is no different. At least at first. Rated T trending M in later chapters, found footage horror tropes, filmmaker!Tomura. Title/chapter headings based on The Yawning Grave by Lord Huron.

omens and signs

Tomura wakes up slowly, but he’d rather not be awake at all – and what he hears when the grogginess starts to fade doesn’t do much to change that impression. “I’m not pulling over again, Dabi. Take your Dramamine.”

“How am I supposed to take my Dramamine if I can’t stop hurling long enough for it to work?”

“Maybe we should pull over long enough for Dabi to take his Dramamine and then digest it,” Twice suggests. “No, that’s a bad idea. Let’s make him throw up until he’s empty and we don’t have to stop again.”

“How about we don’t do any of that,” Toga says. Her voice sounds sweet, but Tomura knows just as well as anybody what she sounds like when she’s about to cut a bitch, and it’s a little too close for comfort. “Dabi, keep your mouth closed. Spinner, don’t floor it around the curves. Jin, don’t laugh. Tomura, don’t –”

Tomura pretends he’s asleep. Toga reaches into the backseat and punches him in the arm, at which point he sits upright in a hurry. “What?”

“Tell Spinner to drive slower,” she says, smiling at him, “and tell Dabi to stop talking.”

“Stop talking,” Tomura says to Dabi. Dabi gives him both middle fingers, way, way up. “Spinner has to drive fast. We need to be there and setting up camp by nightfall.”

“Yeah. Otherwise our nighttime shaky-cam breakdowns won’t be anywhere near as scary.”

“Right.” Tomura doesn’t need to be awake for this. He can film a found-footage documentary hoax in his sleep.

Tomura used to be into debunking this stuff. Then he realized that he could make a hell of a lot more money faking it, and have a lot more fun in the bargain. Now, instead of trying to prove that reality really is as boring as it looks, Tomura and his friends have turned their professional skeptic side-hustle into a full-time business faking the stuff they used to debunk. And because Tomura’s still a skeptic at heart, he knows how to skeptic-proof his hoaxes.

First step: Pick a spot that’s no more than locally famous. Find some local legends – there are always at least a few. Case the joint, figure out what type of haunting or infestation would be the most believable, and then make it look and sound as real as possible. Sometimes that means wholesale making shit up, which is fine. Tomura and his crew have gotten called out plenty of times, but they’ve never been caught before.

“I don’t know, guys,” Twice says as Spinner takes another curve at slightly less than warp speed. “I feel weird about this one. That guy at the gas station acted like we were nuts.”

“Gas station guys always act like that.”

“Not exactly like that.” Dabi sounds like he’s speaking through clenched teeth. “He said it was a paper town. Named after that book. But I looked it up before Spinner started auditioning for fucking Formula One, and it’s been on the map since before the book was published.”

The book – ’Salem’s Lot, by Stephen King. Tomura read it, liked it, and then, when he was scanning maps looking for a place to plan the next hoax, he spotted it. A rain-drenched dot on the map, in America’s Pacific Northwest, labeled Jerusalem’s Lot. Same as the town in the book that gets overrun by vampires. “So he named the book after this place,” Tomura says, and Dabi twists around to glare at him. “Come on. Don’t tell me you’re getting spooked.”

“Twice is right. There was something weird about that guy,” Dabi says. “We spooked him, not the other way around. There’s something going on here that –”

Spinner zips around another bend in the road, and Dabi scrambles to roll the window down. “He does have a point,” Toga says, like there’s not rain and wind whipping through the car and Dabi gagging like a cat with a hairball. “There aren’t legends about this place or anything. We’ve gotten the dumb-college-kid treatment a million times –”

“Which is dumb,” Spinner puts in. “We’re not in college.”

Toga ignores him, too. “But that guy looked surprised at first. Then he looked nervous. And he said something weird.”

“Play it back,” Tomura instructs. Toga digs out the camera.

Gas station guy looks like every other gas station guy they’ve encountered, but as Toga plays it back, Tomura watches the same emotions she named cross his face. Surprise, then nerves. “Salem’s Lot is a paper town.” There’s a pause. “Ain’t nothing living up there that’s human.”

“Nice work getting that line out of him,” Tomura tells Toga, who was doing the interview. “It’ll be great for the promos.”

“Nothing living up there that’s human. He could just mean animals,” Twice pipes up. “The more rural it is, the weirder everybody talks. Remember those old guys with the accents?”

Even the films Tomura’s made in rural Japan has featured old guys with accents. They’re practically a genre staple. “It’s true. People use different syntax in rural areas than in the city,” Spinner says. “Still, though. It’s –”

Dabi pulls his head back in through the window and rolls it up. “It’s easy to hear that line as meaning that there’s something inhuman in ’Salem’s Lot.”

“Which is why it’s perfect,” Tomura says. “Don’t crack up on me. Any of you. If something had happened here, there’d be legends about it. Local myths. Something other than an old guy at a gas station talking about paper towns.”

“There’s one reason why there wouldn’t be legends,” Spinner says from the front seat. “If nobody made it out alive.”

Tomura doesn’t expect that kind of shit out of his crew, and for a split second, he wonders if there’s anything to what they’re saying. Then he spots the blinking red light of one of their pocket cameras, and a mic settled down in the hood of Toga’s jacket, and swears. “You all think you’re fucking hilarious, don’t you?”

“You should have seen your face,” Twice wheezes. “We got you so good –”

“How much of it did you just make up?” Tomura snaps. “Did you bribe that old guy while I was taking a leak?”

“No, he just said it,” Toga says. “All the stuff we said is true. And if it spooked you for a second, Tomura-kun, it’s definitely going to spook the audience.”

She’s right. Still, Tomura doesn’t like ending up on the wrong end of a hoax, and he’s pretty sure he knows whose idea this was. “Did you fake being carsick, too?”

“Did I fool you?” Dabi asks – and then Spinner whips around a corner too fast, and Dabi lunges for the window again. The carsickness is for real. Tomura wonders if he can convince Spinner to drive even faster.

They make it to Jerusalem’s Lot just past four o’clock, which leaves them enough daylight to poke around, record some B-roll, and get a few exterior shots in. The guy at the gas station was bullshitting them – there’s clearly a town up here. Houses, a main street, buildings, streetlights, all of it well on its way to being swallowed up by the rainforest. “How fast do you think stuff like this grows in?”

“These are all native plants,” Spinner says from where he’s crouched down, examining a nest of ferns. “This is their optimal environment. So if nobody was cutting them back, this could happen in – a few years, maybe. Most of these buildings are wood. If we came back fifteen years from now, there��d probably be nothing left.

Which means it can’t have been abandoned for very long – well within living memory. Tomura rolls his shoulders, limbering up. “Let’s find an establishing shot and get this done.”

Tomura calls the big shots, but everybody else fills in with smaller ones they think they might need in the editing process. Tomura puts up with two or three extra shots from everybody before they refocus. He should have written a script. What’s going to come out of his mouth is probably going to be pretty stupid.

“I’m Shigaraki Tomura. We’re the League of Villains. Today we’re investigating Jerusalem’s Lot, an American small town – which, according to the locals, doesn’t exist.”

They asked one local. They’ll go back with the camera on the way out and bother some people until they pick up enough footage to make it look like they’re trying to hide something instead of just trying to get away. This is where they’ll splice in Gas Station Guy with his creepy comment. “As you can see behind me, Jerusalem’s Lot is very real – or it was. Join us as we try to figure out what happened here, and if there’s anything alive in Jerusalem’s Lot after all.”

“Nice, boss,” Twice remarks. It’s a good thing it’s cold out. Tomura gets sweaty when he’s on camera, and he needs to air his armpits out. “The mic might have gotten fuzzy because of the wind, but we can dub over it in post, easy.”

“I like the lighting out here,” Toga says. “There are some holes in the canopy where sun will get through. If it’s ever sunny.”

“It’s supposed to be sunny tomorrow,” Spinner says, shivering. “It better be. I’ll freeze to death.”

Dabi rolls his eyes. “Sure you will.”

“I will. And then you guys will probably use my body to jazz up a shot, because you all suck –”

Tomura tunes them out and goes picking his way up what was probably the main street of ’Salem’s Lot. He’s visited a lot of small towns, even more ghost towns, but there’s something different about this place. Maybe it’s all the greenery. Ghost towns in other places fall to dust. It’s not usual to see one that’s actively being eaten alive – or dead – by the woods. People lived here. People either got up and left or they died here. The former, almost always. Tomura identifies a couple houses that look semi-structurally sound as potential filming spots for tomorrow, then makes his way back to the others.

Coming to Jerusalem’s Lot was the right choice, and as they set up camp and build a fire, the League’s mood is good. Unusually good, given the conditions they’re camping out in. “I think this one is going to be awesome,” Toga says, the firelight glinting off her teeth. “This place would be spooky even without the buildings. All the moss and lichen – and the fog –”

“We could do a haunting for this place,” Spinner suggests. “Ghosts and stuff. We haven’t done that in a while.”

“Yeah, the last time was that mansion in New Hampshire,” Twice says. Then he frowns. “We didn’t have to fake that one.”

No, they didn’t. They all saw things in that house, enough for them to scrap the episode and not come back. Tomura has a strict hoaxes-only rule these days. “Ghosts are easy to do in post-production, but for a town this size, we’d need to fake multiple ghosts,” Dabi says. “And if we have that many ghosts, we have to explain where they came from.”

“Maybe an epidemic?” Toga suggests. “We haven’t done disease in a while, either.”

“That would be tough to pull off, unless we invented something,” Tomura says. “They don’t have the Ebola virus up here.”

Nobody likes it when Tomura mentions the Ebola virus. He sees their expressions and decides to pay them back a bit for their bullshit earlier. “There’s always plague, though. Pneumonic and septicemic plague could both kill fast enough that they wouldn’t have had time to get help.”

“Then we should keep an eye out for skeletons tomorrow,” Spinner says. “And somebody’s gonna need to hold Twice’s hand so he doesn’t freak out and drop the camera. Again.”

“That was one time!”

“We can’t fake skeletons,” Dabi says. “We can fake creatures.”

Tomura rolls his eyes. “You know how hard it is to fake creatures. What would we even fake around here?”

“Vampires,” Twice offers. “Like that book.”

“That would be really hard to fake,” Toga remarks. “Isn’t there some kind of cryptid that’s native to this place? Something tall and furry?”

“Yeah, it’s like a –” Tomura thinks back on his notes. “Sasquatch. Or a Bigfoot.”

“We can’t use that,” Spinner says at once. “It sounds too goofy.”

“Yeah, the airport kiosks were selling it on t-shirts,” Twice agrees. “No vampires. No big furry guys. So that leaves – uh –”

“We could try crawlers,” Toga suggests, and Dabi starts to argue. “I know we’ve used them before, but – why can’t there be different subspecies? Crawlers in a temperate rainforest wouldn’t look anything like crawlers in the Andes mountains.”

It’s quiet for a second. “If you guys are going to make me wear the crawler suit again, I want overtime,” Spinner mutters, and Dabi grins across the campfire. “So what are we doing tomorrow, then – film documentary stuff in the morning, crawler stuff in the afternoon?”

“Works for me.” Tomura yawns. “I’m tired. Don’t forget to put the fire out.”

Inside his tent, Tomura sets up his personal camera to record. He’s not sure if everyone else does, too, but they’re supposed to – to pick up any weird things that happen during the night, any inexplicable sounds or shadows, whether they wake up to it or not. Usually it just catches him tossing and turning, and he deletes the footage in postproduction. Tomura unzips his sleeping bag, shuts off his camping lantern, and closes his eyes. This shoot is going to go well. There’s enough here for a solid hoax. Aside from Spinner in a crawler suit, they’re not going to have to make anything up.

Tomura sleeps solidly, straight through the night. He wakes up without an alarm, better rested than usual, and fumbles for his phone, which he’s pretty sure he left on the pillow next to him. The phone’s not there, but something else is, something small and cold and metal. When Tomura blinks sleep out of his eyes, lifts it to inspect it, he finds that it’s a heart-shaped locket, clinging to life on a frail chain.

Tomura’s friends are going to be on their bullshit for this entire shoot, it looks like. Still, the locket’s a nice touch, and if they fuck with the shot of Toga planting it on Tomura’s pillow, they can make it look like it appeared out of nowhere. Even if they’ve decided on crawlers, it won’t hurt to wave a red herring about ghosts.

But when he shows it to Toga, he gets a blank look and nothing else. “I didn’t put that there. I’ve never seen it before.”

Tomura’s about to tell her to cut the bullshit when he realizes that Dabi’s camera is on. No way is Toga dropping the story while she’s being filmed, and Tomura might as well play along. “Take a look at it. Maybe it’ll give us a clue about what happened here.”

“Hmm.” Toga lifts the locket out of Tomura’s hand and starts inspecting it between sips of coffee. “14-karat gold – not bad, but not over-the-top expensive. It’s on a box chain, which is interesting. They’re not as common as other varieties of chain, but they’re sturdy. See how tightly they’re interlocked? Something like this wouldn’t break easily. And the clasp’s still intact. The person who owned this took it off on purpose.”

She glances up at Tomura, eyes exaggeratedly wide. “What’s inside it?”

By this point, they’ve drawn Spinner and Twice over. They and Tomura hover over Toga’s shoulders as she pries the locket open. “There are photos,” she starts, and then her shoulders slump, her voice going small. “This was a kid’s. A little girl’s.”

Toga’s the best actor on the team. The rest of them need to take lessons. “How do you know?”

“On this side –” Toga holds it up, and Spinner digs up his phone to zoom in. “There’s a picture of two people. Based on their age, I’m guessing they’re her parents. And on the other side – that’s her dog.”

“Right. An adult would have photos of their spouse,” Dabi says from across the fire. “Or their kids. Parents and dog says kid. How do you know it’s a girl?”

“How many boys do you know who’d wear a heart-shaped locket?”

Dabi starts ribbing Toga for being sexist, and she argues back that he wouldn’t wear a locket if she paid him, and under cover of an argument that’s only half-staged, Tomura inspects the locket a little closer. It’s definitely a dog on one side of the locket, some goofy mutt-thing with bright eyes and floppy ears, and looking at it pulls Tomura’s vocal cords tight. He’d maybe have worn a locket as a kid, if his sister or somebody else had given him one. And he’d definitely have put a photo of his dog in it.

But Tomura’s got a couple screws loose. His family made that crystal clear. He snaps the locket shut, then cuts off Toga and Dabi’s stupid argument. “Hey. How old do you think this is?”

“Um –” Toga studies it. “Not an antique. More than ten years, less than thirty.”

“That’s within the time frame,” Spinner says. “How did it end up on your pillow?”

Tomura’s getting tired of this bit. He waits a second or three, then calls cut. “We have a lot to do today. Let’s get going.”

They have an evidence bin for stuff that shows up on shoots, but since the locket’s a joke his friends are playing, Tomura doesn’t feel bad about pocketing it. They left it for him, anyway. Tomura wonders what’s gotten into his friends. They’re a lot more into this shoot than they’ve been on other ones, but maybe that’s a good thing. If there’s one thing Tomura’s work has taught him, it’s that every good hoax needs a small piece of truth at the center of it. The expression Dabi’s camera probably caught on his face when he opened the locket is a good start.

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[hyacinth-in-a-haze]

Yandere Southern preacher! x fem reader!

You think you're alone when you step into the church, dress and coat soaked to the skin from the thunderstorms outside. You're just looking for a place to wait out the rain before going again, maybe you can rest a moment while it's still night.

Those thoughts depart when you see him. Broad and tall holding a cigarette against his lips with the collar still round his throat, he looks you up and down with a hint of curiosity in his eyes.

“Are you lost missy?” he raises a brow before going back to his cigarette.

“No sir, sorry sir I only wanted to wait the storm out.” you babble and stammer your wat through your words, it's obvious he's not convinced by anything you have to say and why would he. There's no sane reason for a girl your age to be traveling alone through unfamiliar land with only what she can carry on her, at best he probably assumes your a runaway, which is only part of the truth.

“calm yerself I ain't gonna throw you out of the Lord's house. What kinda man would that make me?” You can't tell if he's joking or not but the warmth offered is one you take as you walk in a bit further. Once you sit down he continues.

“Now tell me little lamb. What has happened to put you here in my church tonight?” His eyes crinkle with something close to concern as he leans down to your level. Fatherly and warm with the scent of tobacco and pine emanating from him. Maybe it's the semblance of care he presents to you that causes you to step into the lion's den so easily.

“I'm in big trouble,” you sob unable to hold it back any longer, he coos in response and helps you out your wet jacket only causing you to cry harder.

“and why are you in such big trouble for a small girl, you can tell me I promise I only want to help you out.” Maybe it was the first open hand anyone has offered you in a long time that made you accept it with eyes shut to the danger around you.

You shake your head not wanting to say the thing outloud to make it real. You expect him to force the words out of you but instead he smiles kindly, so kindly. Taking your hands in his

“You don't need to tell me anything you're not ready for little lamb, but at least allow me to put you in front of a fire and get someone in you? My home is only a bit more down, you can allow me to do this for you right?” His hand strokes your head with such tenderness you don't even hear what he says, you just nod along to anything he can tell you.

You don't know how you find yourself in his home, sat on his sofa, wrapped in a soft blanket and a mug of something sweet in your hands. He's sat opposite you, so close that your knees practically graze each other every time you breathe. The conversation stays light despite the weight you carry until it shifts again.

“Do you mind tellin’ me where you're headed next then? If you've made any plans?”

You look up to him, the hesitation a greater answer than anything you could say.

“I thought West, apparently there's more work to be had there.” You murmur and with the frown on his face its clear he ain't convinced.

“Lamb, you don't have any plans do you?” He stands up with a sigh, “well that settles that.” he makes his way to the door and you can hear the telltale click of the lock.

“Settles what Sir?” As the words fall from your lips you notice a growing numbness rise from your fingers and toes.

“That the Lord brought you to me for a reason, so who am I to refuse his gift?” He circles back to where you sit, taking your chin in his hands

“Especially when you have no other option, not if you don't want me to hand you over to the authorities.”

Your throat tightens as your tears rise

“I didn't mean to kill him please, he just lunged at me and I only meant to push him off me not down the stairs please.” You beg as though if you could convince him of your innocence then he would let you walk out the door. The mug falls from your hands, staining your lap,the hot drink should have had you screaming but you can't feel anything, can't move anything.

He shushes you with a hand across the mouth, more concerned with the mess you made of yourself then anything.

“Darlin’ news travels very fast around the circles I work within. It didn't take me long to realise the pretty little fool wandering into my church was the missing girl who killed her boss and ran away with his money a few towns back. Now that may not be your story but it's the story being told. Do you understand?”

His eyes narrow and you use the last of your strength to nod.

“Good I'm glad you understand, now I can't let a little thing like you be tried as a murderess, I can't let them hang you by that pretty neck of yours. So I'm gonna give you a way out,” his hand moves from your chin to the top of your damp hair as he strokes you.

“You'll be mine, you'll have a home to tend to and a husband to watch over you. And if anyone asks where you came from ill cover the story, so your pretty little head can't give itself away ever again.” His smile has moved far from fatherly, he looks ready to devour you as you slump forward into his arms. Unable to hold yourself up.

He chuckles, planting a kiss on your forehead as he takes you into his arms. While you drift into unconsciousness you can hear him mumble.

“I'll take care of you, pretty girl. That's all you need.”

[littlejoels]

I literally don’t have any ideas for a request other than I need more Jon snow x reader smut because he’s a favorite omg omg

notes: i was literally finishing this one up when i got this request!

your chamber isn’t normally this silent, especially when servants are murmuring beyond the stone or loud fire crackling in the hearth. but the moment you shut the door behind jon, it feels like silence.

his eyes don’t leave you, not once. not while you untie the ribbons at your throat, or as you walk toward him, knowing he’s watching your body sway beneath the silk gown. “i am leaving at dawn,” he says hoarsely.

you smile, “that is not a no.”

he doesn’t smile back, instead watching you intently. “you should not—”

“jon,” you say, stepping into him, chest against chest, lifting your chin, “do you really think i brought you up here for milk and poetry?”

he exhales like he's getting stabbed; even his hands twitch at his sides, the restraint in him could strangle an ox. maybe a couple of oxes. “i think,” he says, lowly, lust filling in his tone. “i think that if i touch you, i am not going to stop.”

“then do not stop.” you reach for his cloak, tug the heavy black wool down his shoulders. “if you leave me aching and untouched, i swear to the gods i will throw myself into the blackwater and haunt your sorry oath-breaking ass for the rest of your life.”

that gets somewhat of a half-smile from him. “haunt me, huh?” he backs you toward the bed, fingers catching your wrist. “maybe i should die here, then.”

“no,” you pull him closer. “you should live through it. remember it every fucking night on that frozen wall.”

he kisses you before the bed catches your knees. it’s rougher than usual. you break apart just long enough to drag your nightdress over your head—silk pooling to the floor—and his mouth parts like he’s seeing something almost forbidden.

“fuck,” he breathes, looking down at you. “you are...you are beautiful.”

“of course i am,” you smugly purr, dragging him down with you. “i am royalty, am i not?”

he lets out a raspy laugh and sinks between your thighs; you feel his breath before his mouth, ghosting over the inside of your thigh. his hands push your already open legs wider, fingers gripping firmly against your knees. “jon,” you whisper, already flushed. “if you tease me, i will have you beheaded before you leave.”

his grin is completely feral, “then i would die happy.” and with that, he dives right in.

his tongue moves slowly and certain, memorizing you with every stroke. he groans against you, hungrily as if he’s the one being undone.

“fuck,” he pants into you, his once steady voice now broken and ragged. “so good..i knew it.”

“do not—do not stop,” you choke out. “do not—gods, jon—do not fucking dare—”

thankfully, he doesn’t. his mouth works you open with passionate precision, tongue circling, then pressing harder, faster—unrelenting. each flick of the tongue lighting up your every nerve, pushing you closer to the moment you've been waiting for since you met him.

he looks up once, eyes almost black and watering with need, “watch me.” you lock eyes with him as he groans, circling you just right.

you cry out, pulsing around his tongue while he holds you down and rides out every wave of yours. when he finally lifts his head, his mouth is shining and his smirk was truly pure as sin. “bastard,” you breathe.

“mmhm,” he kisses your inner thigh, slow. “say it again.”

you grab his shirt, yank him up over you. “bastard.” he kisses you hard, making you taste yourself on his tongue. you moan into his mouth, hips rising to meet thick ones. “take it off,” you growl. “i want you naked. now.”

he strips fast. furs, leather, shirt—gone. his body is broad, battle-scarred, lean and strong and too damn beautiful for a man sworn to freeze himself celibate. you reach down between you, stroke him very slowly, just to see him twitch a bit.

“you want to fuck me?” you ask sweetly, palm circling the head, teasing with deliberate cruelty.

his jaw tightens, a flicker of heat in his eyes. “gods, yes.”

“then do it.”

but instead of plunging into you, he leans in close—breath scalding against your lips. “next time,” he whispers.

your glare could kill, “jon snow..”

instead of speaking, he pulls you into him, “i just want to stay here a while,” he murmurs into your hair, “just like this.” your heart punches your ribs. he’s hard against you, burning hot, and yet he still won’t take you.

he’s leaving for the wall in a few hours, and you wanted to fuck him so hard he’d never forget you. but now, with him just holding you, you lean into his warmth and decide to savor every quiet second before he’s gone.

special tags: @inbred-eater , @carmysdoll , @lowrisemiller, @bluemerakis