#I’m so sorry I’m asking for fucking help again

[luveline]

pls spencer and bombshell reader where she like sacrifices herself for him or does something outrageous for him. i love your weiting!! 💝

You don’t have any other choice, Spencer’s on the other roof being held in a chokehold by the UnSub —rational thinking goes out the window. He sees your face and, though he’s starting to look a little blue, gestures wildly for you to not do what you’re thinking. 

You jump. 

You take the landing hard —you ran hard, jumped harder, cringing as the grit of the rooftop tears through your shoulder. You roll into it. In one moment you’re standing, and then you’re knocking the assailant off of your boyfriend just before he falls unconscious. 

You forget everything you’re supposed to remember, flipping the UnSub without care onto his front, yanking his arms back, and cuffing him tightly. He’s a serial child murderer, so it’s kinder than he deserves. 

“Stay down,” you warn, cuffs so tight you can see the perp’s hand changing colour. You’ll have to fix that soon, but you have more important matters at hand. “Spencer?” 

His answer is hoarse, “Yeah.”

You leave the UnSub where he’s laid down and rush to Spencer. You drop to your knees beside him, alarmed that he’s still curled up and gasping. “Hey, hey, what can I do?” 

He grabs your arm and sucks in another breath. 

“Spencer?” 

“Why did you do that?” he asks. 

“What?” 

“What did you do to your arm? Does it hurt?” 

Spencer can barely breathe and he’s asking you if you’re okay. You can see the spots in his eyes. Fuck, he scared you. 

“I’m fine,” you say softly, holding him by the shoulders. “Take a deep breath, can you do that for me?” 

Your shoulder stings like you’d landed on glass and there’s an ache in your bones from the impact, but the source of your racing pulse is the look on his face, as though he might still pass out. You cringe at the sound of approaching footsteps, but it’s Morgan and Hotch making their way across the gravel top to help you. You turn back to Spencer in relief. 

He takes another huge breath. “Good job,” you say quietly, but saccharinely, rubbing his poor chest. “Do you want to sit up?” 

“I can’t.” 

“Okay. Alright. Just take a breath.” 

“Maybe you should take your own advice,” he croaks, putting his hand over your heart. 

“I’m fine.” 

“Just breathe.” He says your name like a secret. “Just breathe.” 

Of course. He’s lying on the ground panting for his life and he’s telling you to calm down. 

Morgan has the UnSub up and moving. Hotch kneels beside you both, face lined with poorly concealed stress. “You okay?” he asks. “Spencer?” 

“She jumped across the roof.” 

“Spencer.” You’re half wounded, half humoured. 

Hotch raises his eyebrows at you both. “Well, that’s ridiculous. Are you alright?” 

“I’m fine. Spencer almost got choked out.” 

Hotch looks as though he might give in and rub his face, but he pats your arm instead. “Okay. Reid, can you stand up?” 

“Tell her she can’t– can’t jump across rooftops,” Spencer says, suddenly full of indignation as he pushes up onto his elbows. He looks like he’s been hung upside down and shook. 

“Well, clearly I can.” 

“L/N shouldn’t be jumping across rooftops for any reason, but you’re both…” Hotch smiles wryly. “I almost said unharmed.” 

Spencer flops down onto his back. When he speaks, he sounds in a strange place, close to tears and laughing alike, “You have to look at her arm.” 

“I think you both need to see a medic, but first, why don’t we all calm down. Let’s regain our senses, and prevent any further unnecessary pain.” 

Spencer gives your leg an uncharacteristic whack. He’s so messed up from the chokehold that it’s more like a stroke, but you feel the tap for what it is. He’s saying Don’t do that to me again. 

“He really was gonna kill you,” you say, sorry. 

“I had it.” 

“Respectfully, baby, you did not.” 

[skeltnwrites]

The Shape of Family ‧₊˚❀༉

As a single dad, Steve’s world revolves around school drop-offs, bedtime rituals, and tee-ball practices—and he's struggling to keep up. But you're always there, happily lending a hand when he needs it most. / masterlist

part one - you find out your work crush is a dad and offer to watch his mischievous little girl so he can get some work done 5.2k

a/n - penelope is a little shit and i love her dearly, general warnings/tags here

── .✦

“Hey, sorry to bother you, Steve. I just had a quick question– but before I forget, there’s this little girl in the lobby knocking stuff over. Do you know if her parents are here?” 

“Fuck– sorry. One sec.” 

He brushes past you with an urgency that is typical of Steve. As the community outreach coordinator, he’s naturally a busy man. You haven’t known him long– just the couple of months since you became a volunteer for the local rec center– but it’s clear he’s dedicated to his work. Always zipping from one end of the building to the other, juggling class setups, organizing meetings, or hunting down the next thing that needs fixing. He tends to add more to his plate than he can carry, at least according to another staff member, which is why you’ve been assigned to help him. 

You strain to match his long strides and nearly take out a trash can when he turns a corner unexpectedly. But you can’t lose him now– someone is always nearby to steal him for paperwork or performance reviews and all you have is a quick question. 

The lobby unfortunately looks like a tornado blew through the front doors. Cabinets are thrown open, papers are scattered like leaves across the floor, and a chair has been toppled over. And said tornado has her cheek pressed to the vending machine glass, an arm twisted inside the dispenser box to reach for a loose pack of Skittles. The scene is almost amusing until you remember you’ll likely be the one to clean it up. 

“Penelope!” Steve scolds, not loud but stern enough to surprise you. He’s consistently an embodiment of gentleness– always accommodating and rarely assertive. And while he’s still gentle with her, his tone carries a weight and firmness that’s a stark departure from his usual demeanor. 

The girl, Penelope, retracts her arm and spins around to face Steve. And if it wasn’t for the shit-eating grin pinned to her face, you might’ve felt bad for getting her in trouble. 

Steve’s hands snap to his hips. “I asked you to wait in my office.” 

She shrugs, “Need a snack.”

Steve huffs and rakes a hand through his hair– a habit when he’s stressed, which is most of the time it seems. By the end of the day, his hairspray will have been combed out and Steve will argue with the strands that curl over his forehead. 

“You can have one after you clean this up and if you stay in my office.” 

“Candy?”

“No, no candy. There’s snacks in your lunchbox.” He bends to scoop up a few pamphlets to hand to her. “Or I have pretzels. Do you want that?”

She pinches a page between her nails, weighing her options. 

Steve pries tiny fingers off, “Don’t rip those. Put ‘em away please.” 

And she listens for maybe the first time ever, it seems, cramming a stack of them back on the shelf. 

You gather your own stack of handouts and press them into Steve’s sleeve. He recoils a step, his eyes widening before rapidly shutting in a moment of realization. “Sorry! You had a question- I’m sorry.” 

Penelope abandons her organizing to plant herself at Steve’s left like a sidekick– anything to get out of cleaning up. She gazes at you with a familiar pair of almond eyes and then it clicks. Her hair is the same shade of brown and her jaw, though softer, is square shaped like Steve’s. The resemblance is indisputable. 

You redirect your stare to answer Steve. “Um, yeah– I just needed to borrow the storage closet key to grab some more chairs.” 

“Oh, of course.” He pats the front pocket of his jeans. “Keys are in my office– I hope.” 

Steve marches past you once again, a new mission in mind, tugging Penelope by the wrist and toeing a cabinet shut on the way out. Penelope’s poor little legs must be tired if he always walks this fast. 

“I don’t want pretzels,” she eventually decides. 

“Then you can have what’s in your lunchbox.” He glances over his shoulder to confirm you’re in tow, “This is my daughter, Penelope, by the way.” 

“Nice to meet you, Penelope.” You wave, not that she sees. 

A braid sits high on her head, swinging like a horse's tail with each hurried step. Her faded denim overalls ride up slightly, exposing just enough ankle to show off the bubblegum pink Converse on her feet. She’s a cute little thing, button-eyed and puffy-cheeked like a cabbage patch kid. 

Steve nudges her with his hip, “Say hi.”

She throws you an impartial glance. “Hi.” 

When Steve’s office is in sight, Penelope wriggles away from his hold to sprint down the hall. On her tip-toes, she flicks on the light, letting the door slam in Steve’s face. You catch him rolling his eyes as he stops the door with his foot for you. Penelope is clambering onto his chair like it’s a race and pushing off the desk to spin as soon as she’s seated. Steve steers her out of the way to search the drawers, passing you a set of keys when he finds them. 

“Just bring ‘em back, please. Dottie found them in lost and found last week.” 

“Thanks, I will,” you promise, eyes falling over Penelope again. 

It’s your cue to leave, but your feet remain anchored to the floor. Your mind is buzzing with questions that neither of you have the time to discuss. The rational part of you knows you should exit before you let your curiosity win. Yet, you find yourself lingering in the doorway, stalling just long enough for Steve to lift an eyebrow in silent inquiry.

And before you can rule whether or not it's a good idea, you blurt out, “I can keep an eye on her if you want?” 

Penelope peaks over the back of the chair, perched on her knees so she can see. 

Steve shakes his head, “No, it’s okay. You’ve got stuff to do. And Penelope is going to be a better listener for the rest of the day, right?” He ruffles her hair, earning him a glare. 

You bite back a smile. It’s a funny thing, seeing that frown and furrowed brows that resemble Steve’s so clearly because you can’t imagine him making that face at anyone ever. It’s cute, even if it’s meant to be mean, but you would never tell her as much. 

“I really don’t mind. She could help me tape the flyers up– If she wants something to do?” You direct the last part at Penelope. To a kid, being trapped in their dad’s dusty old office is probably boredom purgatory. 

Penelope blinks at you and then Steve for permission. 

“You want to?” He asks.

She nods, then adds, “Snack too?” 

“Yes, honey.” He sighs, faint but deflated, burdened by the guilt of not feeding her sooner. Steve fishes her backpack out from under his desk. A vivid shade of pink with a Barbie patch sewn to the front. Her tin lunchbox is similarly themed and only harbors a bag of fruit snacks. 

“Fruit snacks or pretzels?” 

Penelope’s features pinch in a way that says neither but she snatches the fruit snacks anyway. Decidedly dismissed or over the conversation, she hops off the chair and sees herself out. 

You can’t help the smile that finds your lips as you turn back to Steve.

He chuckles, “It’s been a day. Bring her back if she doesn’t listen. Good luck.” 

Penelope leans against the wall outside, popping a gummy in her mouth lazily. 

“We’re gonna make a pitstop at the supply closet and then you can help me with the flyers.” 

She doesn’t say anything, but she follows as you start walking, and that’s all you need from her. She’s strangely silent for a kid, especially Steve’s kid. Conversation seems to come easy to him, he likes to talk, which is one of the reasons you still can’t believe you didn’t know he had a child. On your first day as a volunteer, he’d crammed that he was on the swim team in high school, that he's from Indiana, and that he prefers the warmer months all in one conversation– the guy is an open book.  

And you’re quiet too because you’re focused on recalling where they put that damned supply closet. The rec center halls all sort of look the same still, bleeding into one jumbled image of wood paneling and old carpet in your mind. The building is practically a maze; constructed in the fifties, it still carries its historic charm—stubborn doors, leaky faucets, and all—issues the city claims they 'can’t afford' to fix. 

Penelope must get tired of going in circles because eventually she tugs on your sleeve and points down the opposite hall you were planning on going. When she leads you right up to the door you beam at her. For a second, she forgets to be brooding and smiles back. 

“You’re a smart little cookie, Penelope. How’d you know it was here?” You ask, unlocking the door. 

She shrugs nonchalantly, “I just know things.”

You laugh loud enough to draw eyes from a nearby meeting and determine Penelope is the funniest kid you’ve ever met. 

She holds the door open at your request, munching on her fruit snacks as you maneuver a stack of chairs into the hall. You make it back to the classroom without her directions, not to toot your own horn. She tosses her empty wrapper in the trash as you unstack the chairs. 

“Here,” you pass her a roll of tape. “Rip some pieces off for me?” 

She nods, ambling over to the wall with you.  

“So, Penelope, how old are you?” You ask, pressing a flyer against the wallpaper. 

She debates, flipping fingers up and down on her free hand before concluding, “Four.” 

“Ohh, very cool. You’re almost ready to go to school with the big kids, huh?” 

“Yes, at the big school. I’m in pre-school.” 

“Mhmm. Do you like preschool?” 

She hums no and strains to tear off a piece. 

“Here, like this,” you demonstrate, pulling in the proper direction. She copies you, ripping a neat line. The corners of her lips raise as she views her handiwork. 

“You don’t like school?” You ask, peering down. 

She hands you the slice of tape. “Only sometimes.” 

“Why only sometimes?” 

She shrugs and heaves a hefty sigh for such little lungs. She’s too small to be sighing like that, you think, and she definitely acquired it from Steve. 

“I only like work sometimes too,” you admit. 

Her eyes chase yours– all innocently wide and filled with disbelief. She rips off another square of tape, “Are your friends not nice?” 

You consider her question, answering truthfully, “Well, maybe sometimes, I guess.” 

“Meg was not a kind friend today.” Her tone is hilariously chastizing for a child. Kids are just like mini adults sometimes– collecting random phrases and mannerisms like trading cards.  

“No? Why’s that?” 

“She wouldn’t share. Daddy always says sharing is caring.” 

“That’s true. Did you tell your teacher?” 

Penelope shakes her head, tilting on her heels.

“Why not?”

“Meg told the teacher on me because I wasn’t being a kind friend either.” 

“Oh. Why weren’t you being a kind friend?” 

“Because I wanted to play with the dolls too,” she mumbles, upset wavering in her voice. To a child, these seemingly trivial matters really do feel like the end of the world, so you can’t help but empathize, even as you wish your worries were confined to sharing toys.

You crouch in front of Penelope, “We still should be kind, hmm? Even when our friends don’t want to share?” 

Penelope’s unconvinced, picking at her nail like the dirt underneath is a more important issue. But you’re at the end of your stack of cardstock and it maybe isn’t your place to have this conversation anyway. 

You get her set up at a table with printer paper and a box of crayons from the closet. She dumps them out immediately, spraying rainbow across her paper so she can find the “bestest” colors.  

“I can share,” she declares, sliding her extra sheet over to your end of the table. 

“That’s very sweet of you. Thank you.” You catch a crayon before it rolls onto the floor. “What should I draw?” 

“I’m coloring my family.” 

“That’s nice. I think I’ll draw a dinosaur.” 

“A dinosaur?” She cocks her head and giggles, bubbly and pure in the way that kids laugh. Your heart aches with happiness. “That’s silly!” 

“What? Why’s that silly?” 

She cackles like this is the funniest idea anyone’s ever had. “They just are!” 

“Hmm. Should I draw a serious dinosaur then?” 

“All dinosaurs are silly– Trevor says so.”

“What! Why does he think that?” 

Her words fuse into one smear of a sound as she shrugs, “I dunno.” 

“Well, my dinosaur is very serious. See?”

She presses into your arm to examine your quick sketch. “That’s not a dinosaur!” 

“It is! You can’t tell?” 

She nibbles on her lip, smile growing as she shakes her head. 

You pull the paper closer, as if a better angle might somehow improve it. “Hmm, I guess it does look a bit like an alien, doesn’t it?”

Penelope giggles and nods enthusiastically before returning to her work. Her crayon moves methodically across the paper, lips pressed together in concentration. After a long spell of silence, she kindly requests, “Can you draw a house?” 

“Of course,” you reply, “On my paper or yours?”

“Mine,” she says, her pointer finger tapping the corner of her sheet with emphasis.

The drawing is a riot of color, blending bold strokes of crayon to create two people and an animal. The taller, presumably Steve, is painted with orange and yellow hues– true to the the warmth he represents. Penelope, doused in cooler tones, carries their floppy-eared pet– a bunny or a dog, maybe? 

“Wow, Penelope! This is amazing!” You genuinely mean it; despite her young age, her talent shines through in little details like eyelashes and a set of heart-shaped earrings. “Is this you and Daddy?”

“Yes, and Cinderella!” she adds proudly.

“Oh, that’s wonderful,” you say, admiring her work. “Is Cinderella your pet?” 

She bobs her head animatedly. 

“Wow, she looks like a very pretty… animal in your drawing.” 

“She is a very pretty cat,” Penelope affirms and you are relieved not to have guessed incorrectly. She stares at you for a long moment. “Is Cinderella family?” 

“Well, does she live with you?”

Penelope scrunches her nose and tips her head, “Sort of?”

“She sort of lives with you?”

“Yeah. She lives outside mostly but sometimes I let her inside.” Her pitch fluctuates as she talks, the words lilting in a strange, almost sing-song cadence that kids do. 

“Ohh,” you smile. “Do you feed Cinderella?”

“Yes, Daddy buys her food in a can and it’s really stinky!” 

Penelope joins you when you laugh. Not because you are but because stinky things are just funny at her age. 

“Do you love Cinderella?” You ask. 

“Yes– except when she bites me.” She sobers quickly, forehead wrinkling. 

“Oh,” you chuckle, “Well, I think she’s family then.” 

“I think so too,” she states seriously, swapping a blue crayon for a green. 

“What color should the house be?” You claw through the rainbow spread.  

“White!” 

“Well, the paper’s already white but how ‘bout I outline the house in black so you know where it is?” 

“I guess so. There’s two windows and the door is red– Oh, and there are lots of flowers outside.” 

You nod, sketching her vision into existence. “Is this your house?” 

“Yes, and Daddy’s. And sometimes Cinderella’s.”

“Just you three? Is that your whole family?” Admittedly, it’s a self-indulgent question. You’re curious about Penelope’s mom. And you noticed Steve doesn’t wear a ring, checked multiple times in the last few weeks even. But that doesn’t refute the possibility he might be seeing someone. 

“Yes, Daddy and Cinderella is my family. Daddy says families come in all shapes and sizes.” 

You’re glowing with a fondness that’s impossible to hide– because everything about her is adorable– her chubby cheeks, her tinkling little laugh, even her attitude, though Steve would probably disagree with the latter. She’s different than Steve in a lot of ways: grumpier and more aloof, but, at her age, it’s cute. And still, she feels like his carbon copy. An echo of everything you’ve come to like about him. 

Him being a dad makes perfect sense in retrospect. To have overlooked such an important part of his life seems silly. A tenderness radiates from Steve, the kind only a parent could possess. He’s full of love– too much not to share. He pours lots into his work: late nights at the center, taking on more than he can chew, always with a smile. And the rest? It must go to Penelope. 

“Your dad is very right about that.” 

She smirks confidently, holding up her artwork, “I’m going to give this to him.”

“I bet he’ll love it so much, Penelope!” 

And his dad senses must be tingling at the mention of his name because his face appears in the door’s slim window not even a minute later. His lips curve into a grin as he realizes he’s been caught spying. 

The door clicks and Penelope turns. “Hi, Daddy.”  

“Hi, baby,” Steve strolls over to the opposite side of the table, “Are you being a good listener?” His attention flicks around the room, searching for any signs of misbehavior. 

Penelope shimmies up tall in her seat and nods until he meets her pleased gaze. 

Steve must believe the girl because he doesn’t press further, but you praise her anyway, “Very good. Penelope’s been an amazing helper this afternoon.” 

“Is that right?” He orbits the table to stand behind her. “What are you drawing, Nell?”

She flips over her paper, clapping the front against the table. “It’s a surprise!”

“Oh, sorry!” He paces back, redirecting his attention to you. “I didn’t see it.” 

Penelope twists around to confirm his eyes are elsewhere before proceeding to squeeze in a final set of details– grass blades and sun rays. “Here,” she thrusts the page into his hands. “For you.” 

“For me?” His face lights up like a Christmas tree before he’s even seen it. She could hand him a pebble, and he’d treasure it like a gem. And when his eyes do fan across the drawing, he melts. 

“This is so lovely!” He coos. “Where did you get all this talent from? This belongs in a museum, Nell!” He keeps his heart from bursting with a steady palm to his chest. And with his free hand, he flashes it at you just long enough to catch a glimpse before he reels it in to study some more. “And you got Cinderella’s stripes too. Wow.” 

He squats behind Penelope’s chair, throwing an arm around her middle, “Thank you for this. And thank you for being a good listener. That makes my heart very happy.” 

She slumps into his chest, peering up at the reflection of her own features. “Is it time to go?” 

His eyes leap to the clock hung on the opposite wall. “Couple more hours, babe.”

Penelope huffs. 

“I’m gonna hang this in my office. I love it so so much!” He sows a couple of kisses on her temple, straining to stand with achy knees. “You wanna come hang out with me or stay here?” 

She looks at you like you might object. “Here.” 

If Steve’s offended, he doesn’t show it. He’s still grinning like the Cheshire cat, high on the parenting win that is receiving willing affection from your child.  “That okay?” He asks you. 

“Of course. I’ll put her to work,” you reassure. 

“Good, keep her busy. It keeps her out of trouble.” He raises the drawing for another look. “I’ll be in my office, doing paperwork, yay.” 

You snicker, as he retraces the path he came. “Have fun with that boss!”

Just before the door slams shut, he yells back, equally playful, “I told you to stop calling me that!”

Penelope doodles some more, gifting you a vibrant rendition of the night sky– a collection of stars and circles and swirls. You’re so grateful you tell her it’ll go on your fridge, and it does as soon as you’re home. She sorts through toys and equipment in the gym closet and even holds your dustpan when you sweep. Her role as your helper is taken very seriously. 

The two hours pass faster than you expect. Time flies when you're having fun, as Steve would say. All his little phrases and cheesy jokes suddenly make sense in the context of him being a dad. 

She takes your hand on the way to Steve’s office, escorting you when you pretend not to know which direction it’s in. It’s as comforting as it is validating; winning the kindness and attention of four-year-olds, especially this one, is difficult. You knock on the wood frame even though the door’s propped open. 

Steve peaks up through a rare pair of reading glasses. Round, wireframes that match the golden shade his hair assumes when it catches the light. They highlight his eyes—warm and gentle as a summer breeze. But he swipes them off his nose, folding them with practiced care. 

A smile mends his frown as Penelope climbs into his lap. “Hi, sweetheart.” 

She wiggles into a comfortable position, nudging his chest until he reclines further to make space. “Hi.”

“Are you having fun?” Steve cradles her shin to keep her from slipping. “What have you been up to?”

“Cleaning.” Her tone is casual, dismissive even, like it’s nothing to fuss over; but her eyes are fixed on him, waiting for a reaction. 

Steve gasps, “No way! You were cleaning? I don’t know if I believe it.” 

“I was!” Penelope whines, tickled with glee. 

“Hmm, is this true?” He arches an eyebrow at you. 

You nod, delighted to play along. “It is. Penelope here is excellent at handling a dustpan. She even organized the dodgeballs by color.”

“Really? Because you never-ever want to clean at home.”

“I do!” She squeals, bending backward over the arm of his chair.

“Yeah right.” He blows a raspberry on her belly where her shirt has pinched up.

She shrieks, squirming and kicking her heels into his thigh. Steve’s dad reflexes must clock in because he blocks her knee just before it drives into his cheek. And he takes it as a sign to ease up before someone gets hurt– craning back up and scooping Penelope into a baby cradle against his chest. Her legs are long and lanky, dangling over his arms like uncooked spaghetti. 

“Do we need to invite them over every time you make a mess in your room? Will that solve the problem?” He teases, squishing her arms against his shirt so she can’t escape and peppering kisses from temple to temple. 

Eventually, Penelope comes to terms that no amount of writhing will succeed against his strength. She slackens in his embrace, surrendering to the terrible thing that is unconditional love. 

“Oh, here are your keys!” They rattle against the desk where you drop them. 

Steve nods into Penelope's crown, poking her side. “Can you say ‘thank you for hanging out with me?’”

Anticipating another round of tickles, she grins before parroting, “Thank you for hanging out with me.”

“Thank you for helping me clean!”

Her eyes sweep back over to Steve, “Can we go home yet?” 

His fingers tap rhythmically on the desk, a small sigh escaping as he glances at the paperwork drowning his workspace. “We’ll leave as soon as I’m finished.” He pecks the top of her head. “Promise.”

She rolls her eyes, moaning, “Daddy, come on it’s taking, like, a million years!”

“A million? Surely not.” 

“It is!” She elongates the sound until it’s less word and more noise. 

His shoulders droop, tension slipping from his frame as he agrees, “Okay. I’m ready to go too.” 

You don’t blame him for giving in so easily, Penelope’s puppy eyes are powerful. Her chunky little hands smoosh his cheeks– molding and kneading like it’s play-doh, “Is that why your face looks so sleepy?”

A hearty laugh bursts from his throat, “Yes, that’s why my face looks so sleepy.” He pats her arms, “Come on. Up.” 

Penelope scoots off his knees, gripping his wrist for balance. Steve ducks under the desk for his backpack and shoves the stack of paperwork inside. 

“Hey, I meant to ask you, is the new schedule working okay for you?” He asks you, always so thoughtful. 

You nod earnestly. “Yeah, actually, I like doing Fridays better I think.”

“Yeah, Fridays are fun. Fitness Friday has been a big hit with the high school's soccer team.” He slings his bag over his shoulder and lifts Penelope’s by the strap. 

“Oh, good! Did the new jump ropes come in?” Conversations like this, as mundane as they are, are fleeting– the next interruption always around the corner– so you savor it while you have him. 

“Mmmm, not yet. I think they’re coming next week– shipping delays or something.” 

You turn to leave but stop in your tracks, attention stolen by Penelope’s drawing. As promised, it’s hung up– a few pieces of scotch tape secure it to the wall across from his desk. 

“I’m gonna get a frame for it,” Steve passes you with a toothy smile, flicking off the light. 

Penelope chimes in before you can respond, “Can I play jump rope?”

“I don't know if you know how, babe. I can teach you.” 

“I can! I did at school!”

“You did? I didn’t know that.” Steve waves to a passing coworker. “Maybe we’ll buy one for home too then.” 

Penelope nods, hopping the last stretch to the front door. 

“Any fun plans this weekend?” Steve asks you outside, bumping the back of Penelope’s hand until she takes his. The parking lot is almost empty at this time of day, but a few stragglers remain inside after hours. 

“If you think laundry is fun, then sure.” 

“Oh, I know all about that, trust me.” He nods at Penelope, “This one goes through more clothes in a week than I do in a month.” 

Steve approaches a BMW, only a few spots over from your car. An older model, but well taken care of. It’s a nice shade of burgundy with a stick-figure family on the back windshield. It feels so him. 

You hum a happy sound. “What about you? Any plans?” 

“Besides laundry? Well, we’re actually going kayaking at Red Fleet tomorrow,” he unlocks the passenger door, tucking the backpacks in the footwell. 

“Oh, fun! Are you excited?” You ask Penelope. 

“I’m gonna look for frogs.” 

She wrenches the handle a few times before her door flies open. Steve intercepts mid-swing to prevent her from denting the neighboring truck at the expense of his fingers. 

“Ow– shit,” he grimaces, shaking his wrist. He visibly swallows any other swears when he sees Penelope gawking, “Nell, I’ve told you to be gentle with the door.” 

“You said we can’t say that word,” she points out, climbing into her car seat.

You scrub your mouth, not so inconspicuously erasing your smile. 

“I– yes,” he nods, “You’re right. We shouldn’t say that word. I just–”

“Even when we’re frustrated; that’s what you said!” 

Steve takes a deep breath through his nose, choking down his several feelings. She’s right, he did say that, to hopefully stop her from swearing at preschool, but the profanity policing is comical coming from a four-year-old. And he can’t be laughing right now– he has parenting to do– but he’s on the verge of breaking when he catches sight of your face.  

Steve collects himself as he buckles her in. “Yes, Penelope. I shouldn’t have said it. I’m sorry.” 

She pats his head, “It’s okay. We all do mistakes.” 

Steve softens. The irritation evaporates instantly, replaced by a surge of satisfaction. This is one of those rare moments where he can so clearly recognize the lessons he’s instilled taking shape. 

He lets himself chuckle then, “We do. We all make mistakes and that’s okay.” 

She nods as he tightens her straps, “Like when I spilled my juice this morning.”

“Exactly.” He triple-checks that all her limbs are safely out of the door’s reach before shutting it.  

He faces you, scratching his cheek– rosy and round with joy. “How much you wanna bet she swears at me tomorrow?”

“Hey, I don’t doubt it!” Your elation mirrors his. 

“If she can’t find any frogs at the park I can almost guarantee it.” 

“Better help her look then.” 

“Yeah, yeah. I’d invite you but it’s reservation-based. And I’d be surprised if there’s any spots open still… But we can sneak you in if you really want to go.” It’s meant to be a joke, but something in the way he holds your gaze suggests a level of seriousness. 

“No, that’s okay,” you grin. “The pile of laundry on my bed awaits.”

“Well, maybe next time.” 

You try not to read into it. Steve’s a friendly guy, he probably invites his coworkers out to things all the time. 

You nod, idling at the hood of his beamer. 

“I really appreciate you watching her today. You’re a lifesaver, truly,” he shakes his head, peeking at Penelope through the window. “She’s been a handful lately– I mean, I had to pick her up early today because she bit another kid, can you believe that?” 

“She’s a kid,” you shrug, “All kids do that at some point.”  

“I don’t know,” he pinches the bridge of his nose, “I’m honestly at my witts end. This is her third warning and if she gets kicked out of school— I don’t know what I’ll do.” 

“From what I saw today, she’s a really good kid, Steve. I can’t imagine they’d do that.” 

“I’ve just been so busy, you know, sometimes I wonder if she acts out because of that– and it’s just me so I can’t–” he pauses, wiping his face, “God– I’m sorry, you’re… I’m just dumping all of this on you when you’re trying to leave.”

“No! It’s okay, I don’t mind, really.” 

“It’s– Well, it’s a lot and I,” he’s cut short by Penelope knocking on the glass, impatience strewn across her features. 

He throws up his pointer finger to tell her one second. “We can talk next week. You’ll be here Friday?” 

“Yep. I will see you then,” you nod, backing up a step so he can cross over to the driver’s side. 

“Okay, thanks again,” he says, opening his door. 

You wave goodbye, “Of course. Have fun kayaking!” 

“You too!” He yells, then mumbles, “Shit.” 

“Dad!” Penelope’s voice scolds. 

A warmth simmers in your chest as you walk away– a fizzy feeling that had been bottled up and crammed into a forgotten corner of your body. But as soon as you’re settling into the privacy of your car, it boils over into this rush of giddy exhilaration, electrifying every inch of your skin. Giggles cut through the silence as your smile stretches wider, completely untamable. There’s no stopping this, not when you’re already fantasizing about a next time with Steve.

[dollarbils]

i like you better with me | b.e.

billie eilish x fem!reader

context. billie’s tired of chasing you to break up with him. what happens when you do, but struggle to regain her trust?

warnings. smut, angst, mean billie lowk, hella teasing, strap 🙈

part 1, part 2

your desperate. pathetically desperate. she’s been dodging your calls for days. you’d do anything to get her back which is what prompted the hasty drive to her house. the knock on her door was surely quieter than the continuous thump of your heart.

“billie!” you called, noticing the kitchen window was open so she could hear you. after a long pause, the door opened. but it wasn’t an invitation to come inside.

“what?” she asked, seeming unsurprised at your surprise turn-up.

“can we please talk?” you pleaded and she hesitated opening the door wider, for you to come in. she hesitated forgiving you without an apology like she’d done so many times.

“it depends. are you here to apologise?” you furrowed your brows, confused.

“for what?” she widened her eyes at you, as if you were stupid, and shut the door in your face. you knocked on it incessantly for the next thirty seconds before she gave in and opened it again.

“would you stop that?” she huffed, you could tell she was tired of your shit. it made you feel awful, and revealed all the reasons you should be here to apologise.

“I’m so sorry bils, genuinely. please let me in so that we can talk.” you were a rejection away from getting on your knees.

“i don’t wanna talk.” she said childishly, but however waiting for a response instead of shutting the door again.

“please give me another chance, i really need you to hear what i have to say.” it took her a while, but she was as weak as you. and she opened the door, letting you into her house, but back into her heart as-well.

“well?” she shut the door and perched herself up on the back of her couch.

“i miss you billie, and i’m so sorry.”

“are you now? because i’ve heard that before.” she wasn’t taking you seriously and she had every right not to but it was frustrating.

“come on billie, you know i still love you, i told you. i want to be with you. properly. we didn’t do it right last time. give us a chance to do it right.” you approached her, her position meaning she was a few inches beneath you. her eyes were wide and behind them, her head was spinning with contradictory thoughts. you looked at her in adoration and she folded.

“i fall for this shit every time.” she reached for your face and brought your lips to hers in a soft kiss. it wasn’t what you expected but when she smiled into the kiss, a weight lifted off your shoulders.

“ask me the question.” she stood up as you spoke, pulling you into her arms. she smiled, knowing exactly what you meant.

“did you break up with him?” her words were a whisper on your lips. a silent promise you made to her that you’d failed to keep for too long. she held her breath as you spoke, drowning in anticipation.

“yes.” her smile slowly began to widen, chuckles coming out because she couldn’t believe it. her lips leaped onto yours, this time more passionate, more desperate.

“for you.” you added in between kisses and she groaned into your mouth, it was sweet. so sweet, but you couldn’t help but want more.

“mm, you taste so good baby.” she commented when she pulled her tongue out of your mouth, licking your swollen lips.

“need you so bad.” you whined into her ear as her mouth did unholy things to your neck. she pulled you harder against her waist, wanting you to feel her. you quickly became aware of what was underneath her jeans and it made you tingle.

“been waiting to fuck you properly for so long.” she kept her mouth on the skin of your jaw while she spoke, devouring the taste of your skin.

“finally can,” she blabbed on, “my girl.” her words made you grow more desperate for her, feeling the ache in your heat. it’d been present for days.

“billie.” you repeated her name every time she sucked your skin, snaking her arms around your lower body, caressing your ass.

“i like you better with me.”

“me too.” you confirmed when her hand came to the back of your neck, providing warmth and comfort.

“mh, you like the sex.” she chuckled on your skin. and you grabbed her face bringing it up to yours before speaking.

“so do you.” she tilted her head looking upwards in animation of thought. “only with you though.” you added.

“i see what you’re doing, it’s too late to act cute.” she took your bottom lip in between her teeth, biting down softly. she pushed her hips into yours again, reminding you of her position. you couldn’t stifle the groan it caused. you were pulled into her bedroom as she removed your shirt. her hands were never in the same place as she let herself discover your body all over again. she leaned on you, the strap beneath her jeans digging into your heat. you were whining for her to do something other than kiss you.

“patience baby.” she smiled kissing your face.

“you always say that shit.” you whined when she made no move to satisfy you. you rolled your hips back and forth on her clothed dick and she laughed on your skin, her teeth grazing sensitive places. she let it happen for a while before gripping your hips to stop them from moving. she slid your sweatpants off, along with your underwear. she was painfully slow with it too.

“please billie.” she kissed across her stomach, finding every last bit of skin she hadn’t touched yet, before finally moving lower. her breath was on your heat, her lips inches from your clit. she made an effort to blow softly as she watched you squirm and clench on nothing. your whines were getting louder as she still refused to touch you where you needed her. she was so turned on watching you writhe at nothing but her breath. she moved away completely and came back up to your face.

“you’re gonna look so pretty sitting on me.” she whispered seductively before pulling you close to her and flipping you over, having you straddle her. she spread her legs so that you could feel her through her jeans.

“you’re making a mess on my jeans baby, are you gonna take them off?” you looked at her hesitantly, before pulling them off quickly. your eyes widened at the size of her and she smirked.

“can you take it?” she asked, watching your eyes wander the strap. “baby?” she called for you again and you nodded.

“what are you waiting for? do you need me to do everything?” she teased before you gathered the courage to line her up with your entrance. she watched your face as you sunk down on her, the strap disappearing slowly. you got half way before you stopped and she raised her eyebrows.

“i thought you said you could take it? is it too much?” she said in a condescending voice, it made you flush in embarrassment.

“no.” your voice was reduced to merely a breath, her affect on you evident in your expression.

“then take it.” she pulled your hips down onto her as your vision became blurry and your head started spinning. you’d never felt this full. the weight of your body pressed down on her perfectly as she groaned. you felt incapable of moving your own hips.

“move or i’ll do it for you.” she threatened as you looked at her.

“i thought you wanted me to be patient.” you replied, a slight rasp in your voice, and her mouth was agape, in shock of your clap back, as she rolled her tongue across the inside of her cheek. she showed off her strength as she lifted her hips until you were fully off of her. she ignored the fact you were wincing and whining before she pushed you back down on her strap, filling you up again without any warning. the moan that left you was guttural and she bit her lip as she heard it.

“fuck, billie.” a few tears spilled free from your eyes as she rolled your hips back and forth.

“you look so pretty crying on my dick. i like you a lot better with me.” her words were a ruse for what was to come. and the sweet undertone wasn’t about to fool you.

[daceydeath]

I Want to Watch (part 7)

Pairing: Wooyoung x reader x Yeosang Word Count: 2.2K Genre: Pure Filth 🔞 Warnings: 18+, MDNI, Swearing, Explicit Activities

a/n: not as spicy as the last one but they cant all be that spicy x

Since sharing you with a few of the members Wooyoung discovers yet another thing that he likes with the help of another guest

“I’m sorry, did you want to repeat that?” Yeosang coughed violently as you wandered out of the bedroom into the kitchen, his phone discarded on the seat beside him.

“Hey Sangie, are you ok? Did you need some water?” you asked concerned as you watched him cough and turn tomato red, his eyes wide.

“I’m ok” he reassured you, dropping his voice to whisper sharply at your boyfriend. Shrugging you just continued into the kitchen turning on the kettle and getting out a cup for the hot chocolate you were going to make.

“I said are you interested in fucking my girlfriend? I mean if you don’t want to that is totally fine neither of us will be offended”. Wooyoung cackled as you rolled your eyes and kept your back to them both hoping to give Yeosang the impression that he had at least a little privacy while they had this conversation.

“She is right there you idiot” he hissed trying to keep his voice down “Why would you even ask me something like that?”.

“Oh well, it’s sort of a thing we are trying out. Like a kink we're exploring” Wooyoung started to explain, obviously unsure of how to get Yeosang to understand. You continued making your hot chocolate stirring the mixture noisily as possible to cover their voices.

“Eww, I didn’t need to know that!” Yeosang interrupted hastily.

“Shut up. Anyway she has already fucked San, Yunho and Jongho so it’s not like you are the first one I’ve asked also I’m not going to fuck you she is so don’t get all stroppy” Wooyoung continued.

“It is entirely up to you Sangie, I would never be offended if you aren’t interested or too weirded out by the whole thing” you smiled softly leaving the room to go back to Wooyoung’s room sipping the chocolate concoction happily.

“You’re both serious? Like this isn’t a weird friendship test or anything?” Yeosang cautiously asked his voice closer to normal at this point which made you breathe a sigh of relief, you were going to have to tell Wooyoung that he couldn't just ask his friends by dropping the old do you want to fuck my girl on them.

Returning to your book you continued to sip and read for another two chapters before there was a tentative knock on the open door. You looked up to see Yeosang standing there nervously with an excited looking Wooyoung behind him.

“Would it be ok if I kissed you to see if I want to go through with this?” he asked gently, stepping into the room but not coming any closer to you.

“I would like that if it would make it easier for you to decide” you nodded, getting off the bed to meet him in the middle of the room swaying your hips just enough to get his eyes to dart down your body. Placing your hands softly on his chest you waited to see if he was ok with you touching him. After a moment his hand moved to cup your cheek stroking your cheekbone with his thumb carefully, you couldn’t help but smile at how sweet he was being, looking up at him through your lashes you almost thought he was going to turn you down until he swiftly pressed his lips to yours causing you to gasp and tighten your grip on his clothes.

Delving his tongue between your lips he licked into your mouth sensually letting his tongue dance with yours before tightly gripping your hip and pulling you closer. The involuntary whine that left your throat made him groan deeply as you let him continue to take what he wanted from you if it would lead to him being able to make a decision. Breaking for air you couldn’t help feeling a little dazed at how intense Yeosang had kissed you when he seemed like such a sweet and soft boy.

“So what can’t I do again?” Yeosang asked, turning back to Wooyoung who was watching on with a shit eating grin.

“Anything she wants you to except eat her out only I get to decide if you can taste my pussy” Woyoung ground out his voice much deeper than before. A shiver running up your spine in anticipation of what Yeosang was going to do to you.

“I’d say it’s about to be my pussy” Yeosang snorted his hand sliding down to squeeze your arse before kissing you again roughly his teeth tugging your lower lip teasingly. Walking you backwards towards the bed the kiss only ended when your calves collided with the bed frame and you fell backward Yeosang catching you at the last moment to prevent you crashing into the mattress. Yelping in surprise he gave you a devilish grin pulling his shirt over his head before grabbing your pants and tugging both them and your underwear off before he climbed over you his hands slipping under your shirt to squeeze and tease your breast as his lips found yours again his tongue tangling with yours.

“Shit” Wooyoung breathed huskily. You could hear him moving closer to the bed but you couldn’t concentrate with the way Yeosang was kissing you your fingers tracing the beautiful planes of his chest.

“This needs to come off” Yeosang mumbled kneeling up so he could pull your shirt over your head immediately latching onto one of your nipples through the fabric of your bra, biting it carefully before suckling on it.

“Fuck Sangie” you gasped your hands clutching at his biceps to keep yourself grounded your hips rolling again him with abandon.

“Good girl let Sangie treat you like the good little slut you are” Wooyoung cooed, unzipping his own jeans and tugging at his cock. 

“Can’t taste you but a can get you wet” Yeosang smirked darkly moving so that he was kneeling back on his heels his tongue running over his teeth before he leant over your core a fat drop of saliva falling from his lips landing on your clit and making you jolt smearing his spit all over your folds he continued to stare another glob of saliva dripping from his lips onto your entrance he began pushing it inside you with two of his fingers stretching your walls roughly as he pumped them into you.

“Sanigie, holy shit” you gasped your body responding to him faster than your brain could catch up. 

“Wooyo, get her shirt and bra off. If you’re going to watch, at least be helpful” Yeosang grumbled his eyes piercing you to your spot on the bed as he continued to drag his fingers against your walls, his thumb now pressing against your clit pressing and circling your bundle of nerves your hips rolling against his fingers.

“I will kick you out Sang don’t test me” Wooyoung snapped even though he followed Yeosang’s request to get you completely nude for him.

“You won't, you want to watch me own her” Yeosang grinned pulling his fingers from you to show your boyfriend how your arousal almost dripped from the digits. “Open your mouth for me pretty girl” he raised his eyebrow at you challenging you to disobey him but you were more than happy to let him do whatever he liked with you holding your chin firmly he dropped a thick hot sting of spit onto your tongue making Wooyoung hiss from his spot on the bed. You swallowed with a flourish opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out to show him that it was gone.

“Dirty little baby” Wooyoung whined, his voice already higher than usual you preened under their gaze.

“On your front pretty girl I want your boyfriend to watch me destroy your messy little cunt” Yeosang instructed you smoothly, his smokey voice making you groan in anticipation as you faced Wooyoung, his face already looking dazed while he pumped himself rhythmically. You heard Yeosang unzip his jeans before his hand harshly pressed your shoulders down leaving your arse in the air as he placed one hand on your hip to hold you in place. Without warning he sunk into you his cock stretching you more than his fingers had and punching the air from your lungs as he bottomed out. Pounding into you roughly his hips slapping against your skin loudly with each thrust, the power of them almost pushing you forward if not for the tight grip he had on your hips making you flop your head to the bed starting to feel dizzy from the feeling of his cock splitting you wide open.

“Fuck you're going to split her in half” Wooyoung complained halfheartedly his hand moving in time with Yeosang’s hips.

“Does she look broken?” Yeosang snickered, the only other sound in the room besides skin crashing together and Wooyoung’s heavy breathing was the constant string of moans and mewls falling from your lips.

“Ah… Ah… Sangie” you gasped in between the noises you couldn’t help but make you heard him grunt his fingers digging deeper into the plush flesh of your hips another glob of saliva landing on the tight ring of muscle that wasn’t being filled slowly once of his thumbs began circling it pressing against you until he could sink it inside you. 

“Doesn’t your boyfriend look like he’s enjoying himself?” Yeosang rasped his voice shaking with his exertion as he continued to relentlessly bury himself in your wet plush walls.

“Woo… Wooyoung” you whined lifting your head to meet his eyes, his hooded eyes dark and his lips pink and swollen from biting his lip as he watched you. You let your eyes drag down his body stopping at his rock hard leaking cock that made your mouth water. 

“Look at you baby looking so pretty” he slurred while Yeosang huffed out a short laugh letting his other hand fall around your waist to tease your clit mercilessly making you keen loudly, your eyes squeezing shut while your legs began to shake. “Open your eyes baby”.

“Do as your told pretty girl” Yeosang ordered his voice low as he waited until Wooyoung grunted again before his fingers returned to your puffy and abused clit each sharp movement of his fingers making it hard for you to focus on anything other than the way his cock felt dragging almost painfully against your walls as your arsehole tightened around his thumb.

“Oh my god Sangie… Fuck it’ too much” you keened pushing yourself back against him to force him deeper inside you. Your mouth fell open as his angle changed and he was now kissing your cervix with each thrust of his hips pulling his thumb from you he held you hip again bruisingly pulling you back to meet each snap of his hips.

"At least have her suck you off Wooyoung! Don't waste such a pretty little mouth" Yeosang grunted as you tightened further around him the smoldering in your belly beginning to spread.

“Shit baby, shit, shit, shit” Wooyoung wailed his hand furiously pumping his length, the precum on the head of his cock glistening in the light as he fucked his hand faster only moving to shove himself down your throat when you opened your mouth and let your tongue fall out over your bottom lip. You could taste the salty musky tang of his nearing release as he harshly fucked as deep as he could into your throat you jaw relaxing instinctively to fit him.

“You take me so well pretty girl, fuck I could get you pregnant like this” Yeosang moaned his voice deep and smokey “would you like that? Like me to fuck a baby into this tight little cunt”.

“Yes…Yes Yeosang… Please. Please ” you sobbed desperately letting your boyfriend's cock fall from your mouth, coming undone around him, the muscles in your legs shaking violently as your walls fluttered and pulsed with almost painfully intense pleasure. Yeosang kept his pace to prolong your orgasm, your eyes rolling as your entire body felt like you were crackling with electricity. You felt him stiffen slightly before his hot seed flooded you, his hands holding your hips flush to him as he groaned loudly, rolling his hips with less urgency as you milked him dry. Wooyoung followed only a moment later thick ropes of his cum dripping down your throat and flooding your mouth as he continued to slide himself along your tongue.

“Fuck” Wooyoung mumbled carefully pulling himself from your swollen lips and wiping the few droplets that escaped the corner of your mouth “I think I just discovered I have a breeding kink”.

“Of course you have Woo” you swallowed panting, feeling the cool air hit your tender and sticky folds as Yeosang pulled away from you and reached for the tissues beside Wooyoung’s bed. 

“To be honest I assumed he already had that one” Yeosang scrunched up his nose, helping you to lay on your back and also clean you up being careful to be gentle with you.

“I’d be more surprised if he found a kink he didn’t like” you shrugged, making room for Yeosang to lay down to recover and bask in his post nut glow for a moment.

“Actually fair” he agreed, both of you looking towards your still spaced out boyfriend “Is he alright?”.

“Um, probably? If he doesn’t move in the next fifteen minutes we will worry” you sighed, closing your eyes for a moment.  

“Have to admit I didn’t expect this was going to be happening today. But you are incredible” Yeosang yawned softly.

“You aren’t so bad yourself Sangie” you mumbled shyly pulling the sheets over the both of you so that you could keep warm until you got the energy to get up and shower. Wooyoung finally moved handing you a bottle of water that sat beside the bed Yeosang helping you to sit up and sip slowly.

a/n: Thank you for reading lovelies I adore you all and I am so grateful for your likes, reblogs, comments and support you are amazing xx

Taglist (open): @christopher-bangnaldoskzz @armystay89 @damnyouficc @roamingpolar

@tara-skyhold @bakedlilgoonie @krishastumblernow @mrsseals16 @fawnpeaks

@leeknowinggg @tanzen-ist-gold @taz-97 @ocean-dreamer-sky-chaser @everythingboutkpop @tunafishyfishylike

@londonbridges01 @bkimrose @pancake-freckle @pansexual-and-eating-pancakes

@skersey33 @jintastic-day @hwxbibi @onmykneesforateez @skittyneos @thjksnsh

[slut4hee]

please please please. Sunghoon x blk chubby reader. And a breeding kink! Please.

DOWN BAD FOR YOUꕥ

{Paring: College Jock Sunghoon x Chubby Blk Fem! Reader

{Genre: smut, kinda fluffy college au, 18+ so (mdni).

{Synopsis: Just a little cute scenario, where Sunghoon is down bad for his adorable chubby blk queen, and he loves to stuff her full with his cum.

{Warnings: explicit scenes, softdom sunghoon, sub reader, rough sex, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), fingering,, dirty talk, pet names, breeding kink, corruption kink, creampie, hoon is lowkey obsessed with reader, hoon kinda has a fetish for your thighs, slight age gap (reader is 21 and hoon is 23), mentions of insecurities, mentions of reader being called names.

Sunghoon, remembers it like it was yesterday, when he first saw you, you were running through the halls lost, looking at your schedule frantically, as you try to find out where your biology class was. Not looking ahead, you bumped into him, causing your books and papers to fall to the ground, along with his gym bag. “Woah, slow down there princess” he grinned smugly, leaning down to help you pick up your books. “S-Sorry, I’m new to campus, so I’m kinda lost” you apologized as you hurriedly drop down to your knees, helping him pick up the books, while trying to keep your glasses from falling off your face. You didn’t notice the lingering gaze that Sunghoon was giving you, until you looked up and met his gaze, you immediately grew flustered, grabbing your things and running off before he could even get another word in.

From that day forward, you’ve completely taken over Sunghoon’s mind, he couldn’t stop thinking about you and wanting to be in your presence. Maybe it was the way he found you so adorable and innocent, he loves seeing you walking around campus with your friends, clad in your white mini skirts that hugged your curves in all the right places, and your cute little pink crop tops, that barely covered your chest area, showing the outline of your voluptuous breast that spills out in your too little bra, but what really got him worked up was your plump thighs.

Sunghoon was losing his mind, trying to come up with ways on how to approach you, and how he was going to make you his. One day you decided to volunteer for tutoring, and Sunghoon couldn’t thank the heavens enough, once his ice hockey practice was over, he rushed to the counselors office, finding the clip board and signing his name on it with no regrets.

A couple days later Sunghoon found himself, sitting at a table in the library, staring at the biology book, that sat untouched in front of him. He jerked up in his seat, fixing his posture, when he sees you walk through the doors of the library, with your usual cute little innocent look, god she’s so fucking beautiful and pure, he thought to himself, as he watches you look around the library, trying to find the table he’s sitting at.

As the tutoring session went on, Sunghoon only grew more infuriated with you, not only were you so gorgeous, but you were so smart, and passionate about your field of study. Sunghoon on the other hand, couldn’t care less about schoolwork, his life evolves around playing ice hockey, and being known around campus for his role as the devoted team captain, and of course, fantasizing about you, when he’s all alone in his dorm room.

Sunghoon, never thought he would fall for a girl like you, you were so different from the other girls he usually messed around with, so easy to give it up, and so easy to feed a bunch of bullshit lies to, but you, No, you knew your worth and that’s what turned him on the most. One day, he grew the balls to finally ask you out on a date, and Sunghoon felt like a teenage boy all over again, when he jumped up in his room out of excitement, when you sent him a text agreeing to see a movie with him Friday night.

The whole time, during the movie, Sunghoon couldn’t help but stare at you in awe, the way the brightness of the screen, illuminated your pretty brown skin in the dark theater, and the way you had to cover your mouth, to keep yourself from laughing too loud, every time a funny scene came on.

You, couldn’t believe someone like Sunghoon was interested in you, when you first bumped into him on your first day of college, you couldn’t deny that he was one of the most handsome man you had ever seen.

You always been a little insecure about your weight, being that you always been on the chubbier side, you been bullied and called names, back in your early years of school, but every since you met Sunghoon, you found yourself wanting to show off your body a little more than usual. You couldn’t deny that, you loved seeing the way Sunghoon stared at your body with an intense hunger facial expression, causing you to grow wet between your legs all the time.

It had been months, since you had been getting to know Sunghoon, and finally, for what felt like forever, he asked you to be his girlfriend on your 21st birthday, he was little older than you, by two years, you were a sophomore and Sunghoon was a junior.

Fast forward, it has been three months, since you and Sunghoon had been officially dating, and just like any other day you were in class, jotting down notes and paying attention to what the professor was saying, until your phone buzzed, knocking you out of your focused thoughts.

Hoonie💙⛸️: Hey baby girl❤️, practice just ended are you still in class?

You couldn’t help but feel giddy and smile so brightly at your phone, when you see the message from Sunghoon, he never fails to make your heart skip a beat, when he calls you pet names.

You: Hey, my handsome ice prince🥹😍, umm I’m still in class but it should be over soon, meet me after?

Hoonie💙⛸️: love when you call me that 😩and I’m already on my way to your building, I’ll wait for you at the bench🫶🏽 don’t keep daddy waiting tho

You feel your cheeks warm up, when you read the last words of his text, you’re still getting used to his very flirty nature,

You: See you soon my love🤭🫶🏽

ミ★

Finally your class ended, and you never been so happy to leave a classroom until you started dating Sunghoon, you quickly grabbed your things, and made your way out of the classroom. You speed walk down the lecture halls, with anticipation, wanting nothing more than to hug and kiss your handsome boyfriend, whom you haven’t seen for two days straight, due to both your tight schedules but finally you’ll be able to be in his arms again and hopefully do a little more.

You push through the double glass doors, the outside welcoming you, and the sun beams bright, in your face and the breeze from the wind makes your fluffy thick hair flow naturally. As you’re walking down the steps, you spot Sunghoon sitting on one of the benches, looking fine as fuck, you feel the butterflies erupt in your stomach as you stop in your tracks, to admire how attractive he really is and wonder how someone like you were able to pull him.

You being in a trance, you didn’t notice when Sunghoon got up from the bench and started walking towards you, until he came and pulled you into a hug, wrapping his big strong arms around you. “Hey my baby” he says muffled, as he snuggles his face into your neck, you smiled adorably at him, rubbing his head lovingly.

“Missed you so much hoonie, can’t believe we haven’t seen each other for two days” you pouted, wrapping your arms around his neck, as he pulled his head from your neck, wrapping his arms around your waist. “I know baby, I’m sorry but I’m here now, I missed my pretty mama so much” he murmured softly as he leaned down to place a kiss on your soft plump, two toned lips. You smiled Lovingly at him before intertwining your hand with his, as you both made your way to your dorm.

What started off as a, cute little romantic movie date and cuddle session, quickly turned into something more heated, as you found yourself sprawled out on your mattress, legs spread wide as Sunghoon eats you out like a starved man. “Oh s-shit hoonie, fuck right there feels so good” you whimper loudly as you feel his experienced tongue, lapping up all your arousal, that drips from your wet cunt. You gripped his hair tightly, when you feel his wet muscle licking inside your hole, causing him to let out a muffled groan.

“Ugh yes yes yes,daddy please don’t stop I’m gonna cum for you” you moan loudly, arching your back, as he explores your insides with his tongue, you’re literally on cloud nine, every time Sunghoon eats you out, his tongue just feels so damn good. “You gonna be a good fucking girl, and cum on my face yeah?” He said muffled, not wanting to detach his mouth from your sweet melanated pussy. “Y-yes i will, baby I wanna cum so bad ugh please make me cum daddy” you begged desperately for your release, and your legs are trembling from the intense pleasure you’re feeling from his mouth. He continues to devour your pussy like it’s his last meal on earth, he looks up at you with half lidded eyes, as he inserts a finger inside your tight throbbing hole.

“Ahh, f-fuck, oh my god yes hoonie” you cried out, as you feel your climax approaching dangerously, he licked and sucked on your puffy clit, making your eyes roll back to the back your head, when you feel him finger fucking your hole. It only took a few more strokes of his long finger and another harsh suck of his tongue, to your sensitive bundle of nerves, to send you into frenzy, as your orgasm comes crashing down on you, causing your legs to shake uncontrollably as you make a mess on his face.

“Fuck baby that was so hot, you’re so damn sexy squirting for me like that” he groaned, licking his lips tasting your cum on his lips. You whimpered, when you watched his put his digit up to his mouth, licking your arousal off of it. “Fuck baby look what you do to me, shit look how hard that dick is for you” he grunted as he palmed himself through his boxers. “Hoonie please, need your cock” you said whiny, your mouth watering at the sight of his very obvious bulge in his boxers.

“Awe does my pretty little slut want daddy’s cock in her tight pussy” he said teasingly, smiling smugly at you, as he watches you squirm and act like a desperate bitch in heat. “Yes daddy please, I need it so bad I been such a good girl for you” you pleaded, wanting nothing more than to feel his thick girthy dick inside you. You can feel the arousal leak out of your pussy, onto the seats as you watch him rid himself of his clothes, his leaky hard cock springs out, standing tall and proud.

“Fuck just look at you, looking all sexy and submissive, waiting patiently for daddy to give out orders, shit such a good fucking girl” he let out a deep groan, as he stroked his cock slowly, watching your sexy chubby exposed body laying on the bed, looking fucked out as ever. He climbed on top of the bed, hovering over you, as lifts up your legs and positions them on his shoulders. “Gonna let breed this fat juicy wet cunt yeah?” He asked, voice coming out low and husky, and his dark eyes stare back at you, full of lust and desire. “Yes please, breed my pussy, I’m your good little slut, so use me as you like”

He groaned in response, leaning his body on yours as he aligned his tip at your hole, he started to push his cock inside your wet pussy, hissing at the tightness of your quivering walls, “Ahh Shitt, pussy so fucking tight and wet” he grunted pushing the rest of himself inside, you let out a pain moan, when you feel his dick so deep, the head of his cock is touching your cervix. After he letting you adjust to his size, looking at your face for any signs of discomfort, when he sees on pleasure written on your face, he finally bottoms out.

“Hoonie! Ugh fuck, y-your dick it’s so big, feel in my stomach” you let out a whiny moan, clawing at his back with your long acrylics, as he sets a brutal pace, fucking into you hard. “Yeah? You like that huh, like feeling me deep in your guts precious girl” he pants as he delivers relentless pounds to your tight we pussy. “Yes daddy, love it so much, love your cock so much” you slurred your words, tears filling your eyes, from the overwhelming feeling of being drilled by your boyfriend’s big cock.

“Holy shit, pussy so fucking good, gonna fucking stuff you full of my cum, like you my pretty little slut deserves” he lets out a deep grunt when he feels you clench around his tighter, his cock twitches uncontrollably, letting you know he’s close and you are too. “Baby baby baby, oh my gosh, I’m gonna cum please let me cum for you again” you screamed out, feeling the band in your stomach threatening to snap. “Cum for me baby, cream on daddy’s cock” he whispered in your ear as you wrapped your legs around his waist, feeling him deeper than before. The bed is creaking loudly and the headboard is slamming against the wall, as he fucks you into an oblivion.

“Shit shit shit, I’m not gonna last lost baby, pussy too damn good, fuck I’m so obsessed with you baby love you so much” he lets out a loud moan, chasing his high, wanting nothing more than to fill you up with his cum. After three more harsh strokes, you’re seeing white, as your orgasm hits you like a speed of lighting, squirting and creaming all on his dick. Not long after, he follows behind you, spurting his thick ropes of warm cum inside your spent pussy. He collapses on top of you, both of you panting and trying to catch your breaths. He goes to get up to give you aftercare, like always does after he fucks you real good, but you stopped him, pulling him back to bed not wanting him to leave your side.

“We can take a shower in the morning, right now I just want to hold you close hoonie”

Tʜᴇ ᴇɴᴅ

A/n: Whew, this is so hot😩, I need him so bad and I enjoyed writing this so much. Thanks, to anon who requested this🫶🏽 reblogs are appreciated 🥰.

[queenshelby]

The Accident (Part One)

Pairing: Reader & Cillian Murphy

Warning: Accident, Child Birth, Abuse, Religious Themes

Thank you @blondie-22 for this amazing idea!

The streets of Dublin buzzed with life. Cars were honking, pedestrians chatting, and the distant sound of laughter echoing against the stone buildings.

As you navigated through the chaos to attend one of your medical appointments that day, your thoughts were cloaked in a heavy fog of fear and regret.

With each bump of the road, you felt the weight of your current situation settling deeper into your chest, an anchor pulling you down.

“Is this all there is to my life?” you muttered under your breath, the question steeped in resignation as you were pregnant again and due to deliver your second child. You had dreamed of freedom, laughter, and love, dreams that now felt like whispers of someone else’s life.

The cityscape blurred as you maneuverer through the crowded streets, a painful reminder of all you had sacrificed.

“What if I run away from all this?” you thought to yourself, but just as quickly as this thought appeared in your mind, fear clutched at your heart. “Was it even possible and, if it was, where would you go?” you questioned yourself. You weren’t even meant to be here, in this country and you had no insurance, no visa, no rights.

Suddenly, a blaring horn sliced through your contemplation.

Bam! The jarring collision jolted you as your car jerked to a halt. "Fuck!" you cursed as you gripped the steering wheel, a wave of pain radiating from your abdomen. A moment of shock enveloped you. You glanced up to see the other driver, a sharp-dressed man with striking blue eyes, scrambling out of his car.

“What the hell were you thinking?” you shouted, pushing the door open and stepping onto the asphalt, your heart racing. Every nerve in your body was tingling with adrenaline and distress.

His voice was raised over the noise of traffic. “I’m sorry! I was—” He ran a hand through his gray-streaked hair, obviously flustered. “I was distracted!”

“Distracted? By what?” you retorted, biting back your anger as the stranger looked down at your swollen stomach, not bothering to answer your question.

“Are you okay?” the stranger asked as he took a step closer, his eyes widening. "We should probably get you to a hospital," he said, seeing how you were at least seven or eight months pregnant. "You need to get checked out," he told you but you shook your head.

"That's not necessary, just give me your insurance details," you snapped, feeling no worse than you did earlier that day.

He hesitated, clearly conflicted. “Look, I’m really sorry,” he said, his voice softer now, the concern in his eyes apparent. “I will give you my insurance details, but I think you really need to get checked out because you are pregnant," you could hear the tremor in his voice.

“I am fine, but I am also in a rush, so can you just give me your details," you reiterated as frustrations poured out like a dam bursting.

“Please, I—” he began, but you cut him off, the rising pain in your abdomen drawing your focus. A tightening sensation gripped you, radiating outwards like ripples in a pond.

“Shit!” The breath left your lungs as what felt like an actual contraction surged through you. You doubled over slightly, clutching your belly, eyes wide with panic.

The stranger’s demeanor changed instantly. “I will call an ambulance," he announced, but you grasped his wrist and shook your head.

“No!” You spat out, rising back to your full height, anger battling with the pain. “No ambulance," you insisted, your voice strained. “I can’t...fuck," you cursed as, suddenly, you felt a pop inside, a desperate prelude to the reality settling in. You were going into labor—now, and fast.

“What do you mean, you can’t?” His voice was insistent. You caught a glimpse of genuine concern twisting with urgency in those piercing blue eyes.

"I mean I can't!" you shouted, throwing your hands up in frustration. “You have to help me!”

“Help you? How? I’m not—” he stammered, fumbling with his phone, glancing back and forth between you and the device as if it could conjure a solution as he watched your water break, your breaths coming out in labored breaths.

“Just focus, will you?” you snapped, the urgency in your tone stopping him mid-thought. “You hit me! You deal with it!”

"I am calling a fucking ambulance, if you like it or not," he insisted, the panic pushing through as he stepped closer again and guided you towards your car. “You need to stay calm,” he said, trying to exude a confidence he didn't quite feel. “Just breathe with me, okay?”

You snatched your gaze up to meet his and for a brief moment, the emotional chaos unfurled like a ribbon between you; there was fear, pain, and something that echoed with unspoken possibility. You swallowed hard, trying to chase away the rising tide of panic.

“Don’t you dare leave me alone” you started, but another layer of pain sliced through you, cutting off your protest as you watched the stranger call the ambulance.

"Yes, she is defiantly in labor. Corner of O'Connell and Abbey Street. You need to hurry!" he spoke into the phone, his voice steadying with purpose. As he hung up and turned back to you, determination flashed in his eyes.

"It hurts so fucking much," you gasped, gripping the side of your car for support. Your knees felt weak, and the pavement beneath you was cold and unforgiving.

"I know it does." There was a calmness in his voice as he moved closely again, scanning the alley around you. "Can you walk? We should get out of the street."

You nodded slowly, though every step felt like trudging through molasses. The tightness in your abdomen ebbed and flowed, and before you could respond, another wave of pain surged through you.

“Breathe, just breathe. In and out,” he instructed softly, eyes locked onto yours. “I’m Cillian, by the way.”

“Great, now we’re on a first-name basis, huh?” you retorted, but there was a small semblance of humor piercing through the tension.

"I am Y/N," you gasped as he guided you towards a nearby alley, away from the cacophony of the street. The shadows cast by the old buildings felt oddly comforting, a temporary sanctuary from the chaos outside.

"Y/N, listen to me," Cillian said, his voice steady despite the circumstances. "You’re strong. You can do this."

You let out a weak laugh as another contraction rolled through you, shoving down the warmth rising from the connection you felt in those words. "I’ve never been strong," you gasped, clutching your belly. “I’m just… scared.” The truth slipped out, raw and unguarded amidst the chaos.

"Being scared isn't such a bad thing," Cillian replied, his brow furrowed in concentration. "It just means you're about to do something incredible. Let’s focus on what we can control. Can you tell me what you feel?"

Another wave hit, harder this time, sending a shudder down your spine. "It feels like…I can't explain it," you stuttered, struggling to keep your composure. “Like I need to push," you shook your head, tears threatening to spill over. "I can’t do this here. Not here! Please… I can’t."

He took a deep breath, grounding himself amidst the turmoil. “Y/N, look at me. We don’t have a lot of time. If you need to push, let’s get you in a position that helps.” His voice was calm, but it bore an urgency that broke through your fear.

“What do you know about childbirth?!” you practically yelled as another contraction washed over you, not even sure why you were so mad—perhaps it was instinct, or the result of the situation spiraling out of your control.

“Not much, but I've done this before, about sixteen years ago, when my wife went into labor unexpectedly," he replied, pretending to be confident even in the face of your escalating panic. He was a good actor, that's for sure, and he knew that what you needed the most right now was someone who alluded to calmness.

"Alright, fuck! Let's do this," you gasped as you reached beneath your dress to remove your undergarments and reposition yourself against the cool brick wall of the alley.

Cillian knelt beside you, his presence steady and reassuring. With a few quick breaths, he murmured "push when you need to okay?"

You nodded, and with each contraction, you could feel the reality of what was happening. The walls of the alley faded, and all that existed were the sounds of your heavy breaths and the warmth of Cillian’s encouragement beside you.

“Y/N, you’re doing great,” he said, a note of admiration creeping into his voice. “Just keep breathing. I’m here, okay?”

“Okay…” you gasped, trying to focus on his voice rather than the overwhelming pain. The sharp, twisting sensations rolled through your body, and instinct took over. You pushed.

“Good! Just like that!” Cillian encouraged, eyes fixed on you.

You gritted your teeth, squeezing your eyes shut as you bore down, feeling the fire behind the pain intensifying. “Shit! This hurts!” you cried out, the sound echoing off the brick walls.

“I know, I know! Just a bit more, Y/N,” Cillian urged, his hands steadying you as you leaned against the wall, the coolness against your skin somewhat soothing. “This is it! You’re doing it! Keep pushing, you’re almost there!”

The tension in your body coiled tighter as the next wave came crashing in, and with a primal instinct, you pushed again, feeling a surge of energy mingled with agony. A strangled scream tore from your lips.

“Come on! Just a bit more!” Cillian’s voice broke through the chaos, a beacon of hope.

With each push, you could feel the world narrowing down to just you and this moment, this life you were about to bring into the world. Finally, with one last, gut-wrenching effort, the pressure exploded outward.

"I can feel the head I think," Cillian encouraged, his voice barely a whisper as he leaned closer, intense focus etched across his features. “You’re almost there, Y/N!”

You gasped, struggles ebbing into a wild, raw energy that pushed through the exhaustion. “I can’t… I can’t,” you cried out, tears pooling as the sense of impending life overwhelmed you.

“Yes, you can,” he coaxed, unwavering.

With a determined breath, you clutched at the cold brick wall, grounding yourself as the pain peaked again. You pushed. A shout echoed down the alley, raw and primal, fueled by an instinct far deeper than the immediate ache.

Cillian’s hands were there, ready, steady. “That’s it! One more strong push, Y/N!”

This was the moment you had been waiting for, the glimpse of a brighter future despite the past's shadows looming over you.

“Push!” His voice rose with urgency, pushing you along with him.

And then, with a final forceful cry, you pushed once more, feeling the world blur around you. Darkness crept in at the edges of your vision, but you could hear Cillian’s voice, vibrant and reinforcing amid the chaos.

“Breathe, Y/N! Breathe!” he urged, and somehow, that single command kept you anchored.

Suddenly, you felt it: the unmistakable release as your baby slipped into the world. A rush of warmth enveloped you, and for a moment, the pain faded into the background, replaced by a wave of power and wonder.

With a final surge of energy, you felt your daughter’s small body leave yours entirely. A loud wail pierced the alley, sharp and full of life, echoing off the walls like a celebratory shout. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, your heart racing not just with pain but with overwhelming relief.

"You’ve done it!” Cillian exclaimed, his voice breaking as he gently cradled the newborn in his hands. “It’s a girl!”

Your heart swelled as you glanced at the tiny being. Tears streamed down your face, a mix of exhaustion and joy flooding through you.

Without words Cillian took off his jumper and wrapped her up in it, having instantly recognized the importance of warmth. “She’s beautiful,” he said, his voice brimming with awe. You marveled at Cillian in this moment, so focused and competent, a stark contrast to the chaos and fear you knew from the life you were trying to escape.

You then broke out in tears , the full weight of everything crashing over you. “I…I can’t believe I just did that,” you whispered, struggling to catch your breath.

Cillian knelt beside you, cradling the swaddled newborn in his arms. “You did," he said softly, his eyes bright with admiration. “And she seems pretty perfect.”

As you gently touched your daughter’s cheek, a warmth spread through you, a flicker of hope igniting in your heart. “What do I…what do I do now?” you asked, your voice trembling with uncertainty.

“First, let’s get you both some medical attention. I am sure the ambulance is on it's way and they will take you to the hospital." Cillian said but that was not what you were thinking about.

“No hospital,” you said firmly, your heart racing at the thought. It was an instinctive refusal, a protective urge that coursed through your veins.

“Y/N, you need to be checked out,” Cillian replied, his voice a mix of concern and insistence. “You just delivered a baby in an alley. You’re going to need care. For you and her.”

“No hospital,” you repeated but the wail of sirens echoed through the streets already, drawing closer. Relief washed over you despite the circumstances. You turned your gaze back to the baby cradled in Cillian’s arms, her little face turned towards you, tiny fists waving in the air.

“She’s so perfect,” you murmured, awe weaving through your voice.

“She is,” Cillian confirmed, his eyes sparkling with pride. “What are you going to call her?" he asked and you quickly responded.

“Mika.” The name slipped out of your mouth before you fully realized it was the one you had secretly cherished. “Mika… it means ‘new moon ,’” you whispered, hoping that with your second daughter having been born, you would find a way to new beginnings.

Cillian's gaze softened, understanding the significance. “A beautiful name for a beautiful girl,” he said gently just as the ambulance screeched to a halt at the mouth of the alley, its lights flashing an urgent dance of red and blue.

“See? Help is here,” Cillian said, glancing up as the paramedics jumped from the vehicle, faces serious but efficient.

You held your breath, part of you hesitant to let go of this moment—the intimacy of the alley, the fragile life cradled between you, and the bond you had formed with this stranger less than an hour ago. But reality swirled around you, heavy and looming.

“Okay,” you conceded, your voice barely a whisper. You took a shaky breath, rejuvenated by a flicker of spirit. “I’ll go with them to get checked out," you told Cillian who seemed instantly please.

“Good,” Cillian said, a small smile breaking through the worry etched on his face.

The paramedics approached, two women with kind but focused expressions, as you shifted from Cillian to their care. One of them knelt beside you, her tone warm and reassuring. “Hi there! You did such an amazing job. Let’s see that little one,” she said, her hands expertly taking Mika into her arms before turning to you, “and let’s make sure you’re feeling alright too.”

Cillian stepped back slightly, allowing the paramedics to assist. “It was nice meeting you Y/N,” he said, the pride and relief in his eyes shining through before he asked the paramedics which hospital they were taking you to.

You glanced up at him, the weight of everything beating hard in your chest. “Thank you, Cillian,” you said softly, ache filling your voice as you realized how much more than just a stranger he had been to you in the chaos. "I couldn't have done it without you," you said and Cillian held your gaze, his blue eyes flickering with an intensity you couldn’t quite understand.

“You did everything, Y/N. I just happened to be there,” he replied, his tone earnest and protective. "I will visit you and Mika at the hospital later if that's okay," he then added, his words filled with genuine concern.

"Really?" you asked, a mix of surprise and gratitude washing over you. It felt strange to have someone who cared, especially after everything you had endured.

"Of course. I want to make sure you both are okay," he nodded, his expression serious.

The paramedic gently placed Mika into your arms, a fresh wave of overwhelming emotion coursing through you as you cradled her. She was so small, so fragile, and full of life. “You’ll be okay, little one,” you whispered, tears brimming again as you gazed down at her while the stranger quietly disappeared from the scene, attending some matters relating the accident as police too arrived and began to take statements from those involved and you wondered whether you would ever see him again.

"It's not every day an Oscar winner delivers your child now, is it?" one of the paramedics said teasingly after Cillian had disappeared and you did not know what she was talking about.

"What do you mean?" you asked she was already helping you into the ambulance with Mika swaddled close to your chest.

“Cillian Murphy? The guy who just helped you deliver your daughter," the paramedic explained, her voice tinged with excitement. “He’s a big deal around here. You're lucky!"

You blinked, momentarily stunned but didn't really care. You haven't watched a movie in years, and you most certainly did not feel lucky about the situation you were in.

Your life was a mess. It was awful and complicated, but as you sat in the ambulance, the warmth of Mika against you felt like the first tender thread pulling you from the darkness.

Tags:

@sunbeamseas @saint-ackerman @oatmealisweird @naxxsstuff @amanda08319 @r-m-cidnah @elysiannook @cillshot @infireddabdab @tastycakee @harrysbestiee @lilybabe22 @adalynlowell @henrywintersdearestgirl @ietss @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @ryiamarie @axionn

@nela-cutie @futurecorps3 @delishen @nosebleeds-247 @thirteenis-myluckynumber @gills-lounge @hjmalmed @lost-fantasy @tiredkitten @sidechrisporn @smallsoulunknown @charqing-qing @hopefulinlove @aporiasposts @shycrybaby @me-and-your-husband @hjmalmed @lacontroller1991 @galxydefender @aporiasposts

@galxydefender @hunnibearrr @saint-ackerman @lunyyx @gentlemonsterjennie1 @ihavealotoffandomssorry @nadloves @lost-fantasy @nolucesn@mcavoy-girl @hjmalmed @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @blushykiss @tatumrileyslover @teawithsatanx @orijanko @rhaenyra4ever @xcinnamonmalfoyx @budugu @nadloves @kmc1989 @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @forgottenpeakywriter @smailaway @sophiaaguirred @blondie-22

[bunnis-monsters]

Good morning, I hope you're doing well.

I've been a shy onlooker of your work for quite some time, however as of recently I've been noticing with a couple of the bee-hybrid ficlets that you've been writing, one or two of them that involved (specifically) child/infant characters were tagged with the 'monster fucker' and various such related tags..?

I love the bee stuff, I do! Please don't take this as a hate message because I really don't mean for it to come off as such. But if you're going to include infant/child characters under the age of 18 in your fics, please don't include them in NSFW scenarios, fics, or situations or put them in NSFW tags. I don't think that's entirely legal in some places and I say that out of the goodness of my heart for your protection and your readers.

There was a woman banned off Youtube who was criminally charged for breastfeeding her child and uploading it and I know this is in no way as severe but I honestly don't want to see you get banned and all your fics wiped off tumblr because you put 'minor characters' in NSFW situations/tags. :(

You could try maybe just not tagging the stuff with baby bees?? You have a huge follow base and a discord (that i'm too shy to join) so I'm sure people would still find that content if they're following you.

I'm sorry for bothering you, I hope you have a good day.

Uh.

I tag all of my fics as monster fucking… because that’s the genre. The baby bees are a result of said monster fucking.

I specifically use monster fucking on all of my posts so people who don’t like the monster fucking genre can easily filter my posts out.

I do not include any smut tags like I do on my other posts, and SPECIFICALLY tag them as “monster sfw” or “monster fluff” when I remember.

Not only have I never sexualized or plan on sexualizing the baby bees, if you or anyone else sees anything regarding them as sexual… idk what to say. They’re the most innocent posts on my page.

Read my REQUEST INFO so you can understand that I do not write for pedophilic relationships or situations. The baby bees are children.

I think you’re reading a bit into it. I’m not sure about that case of a YouTuber being banned for breast feeding, but that’s a real person with real children. These are fanfics. There could have been more behind that, and I know for sure there are cases where parents exploit their children on the internet in ways that are in the grey area, like for example, breastfeeding them and sexualizing it purposefully(breastfeeding isn’t inherently sexual, but it can be sexualized and sold as such to an audience) or having them do things that are suggestive for their pedophile audience to continue using them as a cash cow.

This is not that. The baby bees are fictional, and not once have they been sexualized. I am not interested in doing so. They’ll still be under the monster fucker tag because the baby bees are tied to the bee hybrids which ARE very NSFW. It’s a genre.

I use tags that relate to my post and can help them be easily filtered by those that DON’T want to see my content.

Never ask something like this again, it made me deeply uncomfortable.

[luveline]

hey love! first of all: i have to admit i started watching criminal minds for the first time earlier this year only bc of your spencer fics! can we get more stripper!reader and spencer? love your writing!!!

thank you!! It’s a slow routine. You begin in a crouch in your underwear, just like at the club. Chest to your knees, arms twisted with the backs of your hands touching. But, unlike at the club, this underwear is comfortable. There’s nobody watching, and you won’t make any tips. You don’t have a pole nor a stage. 

You run through the routine but forgo any pole tricks. You stretch for long, slow minutes, dancing from one space to another. The music in your head isn’t anything you’d play at home, but it works to keep time. You end on your knees again. 

It’s not fun. 

You stretch toward your phone and pick it up. Spencer’s texted you twice in the ten minutes you weren’t on it. 

Hi gorgeous, the first begins, do you want to sleep over? I can make you dinner. 

The second, Sorry, I don’t think I’ve ever called you gorgeous before, is that weird? Please come over and pretend I didn’t say that if it was weird

A third pops up while you’re reading. Can I come get you? 

You text him back with pleasure. He’s the only guy in your life who talks to you just to talk, without thinking he could fuck you if he says enough right things, even though he has fucked you. Hi babe you can call me anything it’s not weird, I’ll come over! Not working this week, maybe I can stay two days(?) let me know so I can pack enough clothes 

You can stay all week, if you want to. I miss you 

You imagine him holding his phone, his cheeks pink with blush. 

I miss you too, you text back. 

Just bring what you want to and we can work it out later

Working it out later could mean anything with Spencer. He’s silly enough to try and put you in his clothes, and generous enough to take you shopping if it saves the time it takes to drive you home. 

You’ve packed a bag of clothes and shower things when your phone rings. Spencer’s contact photo covers the whole screen, the two of you together with your face cut out, his smile wide. You were both a teeny bit tipsy. 

“Hello?” you answer, bringing the phone to your ear. 

“Hi!” He sounds nervous. “I’m outside. Am I gonna get towed?” 

“Not if you stay in the car. I’m on my way down right now.” 

“Okay, see you in a second,” he says. 

He never looks comfortable behind a steering wheel. You aren’t sure why he doesn’t sell his car, maybe because it’s dirt cheap to maintain. He never seems happy to be driving is all. 

He smiles when you approach his door, which is better. He rolls down the window. 

“Are you okay?” he asks. You bend at the knees to see him better. 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” 

“I had a weird feeling about you, like you weren’t alright.” 

You lean down further. “I’m okay.” 

He grins. You’re waiting for a kiss he doesn’t give, finding yourself a subject for his staring, completely still as his gaze follows around your face. He makes no move to kiss you, and for a moment insecurity blossoms. 

“Well, you look okay. Are you getting in? It’s cold,” he says, nodding toward the passenger side.

“No help with my bags?” you ask, closing the door when he tries to open it. “Kidding.” 

You round the hood and climb inside. Then Spencer kisses you, polite but emphatic, one on your lips and another just under your jaw as he squeezes your shoulder. You feed into them lovingly.

“Maybe you can stay at my place forever? That way I can stop missing you all the time,” he says, pulling away slowly. 

“And when the mystery is gone?” you ask. 

“I don’t want mystery with you.” 

Spencer takes your bag from your lap and shoves it into the back seat. You drop the smaller one on your shoes. 

“Do you wanna get pizza or something?” he asks. 

You hold your jaw where he’d kissed you. “Sure,” you say, tingles of his kiss lingering under your hand. 

“Or Chinese? What do you want?” 

You want more kisses, but you love that he always gives you options. “Pizza for sure. Curly fries, too. Hold my hand?” 

Spencer takes it with gusto over the gearstick, and whatever felt like it was missing earlier fills itself in. “Wait,” you say softly, before he can take the car out of park, “just…” You grab his side and drag him toward you for a hug. Holding hands wasn’t gonna be enough —Spencer doesn’t know it yet, but you love him, love how safe he makes you feel, love how fun he makes your life. You can be yourself with him, no matter who that really is.

Spencer holds you, his hand across your shoulder blade rubbing soft lines. 

[justanothersanjilover]

One Piece Modern Gym AU Wip (Part 16)

After Sanji’s nosebleed stopped, they finished eating in silence - both a little lost in their own minds. Zoro thought about the possibility of Sanji getting a nosebleed because of him and not because of high blood pressure. Sanji, on the other hand, thought desperately about anything different than Zoro, saying he has a vagina paired with his very hot body! Fuck he always knew he was into guys, too - maybe even more than into women. But if a guy had a vagina? He felt the tickle of another nosebleed and thought about dead dog puppies and sad things like that to stop it.

“What’s for dessert?” Zoro asked with an impatient smile.

Sanji looked up. Fuck him; if he were a bit more confident, he’d say “me”. But he couldn't…He couldn't say that, right? He didn't even know if Zoro was into him.

“Vanilla ice creme with hot Raspberries, if you want? Since you don't like sweets too much, I thought the sourness of the Raspberries would be a good pair with the ice cream.”

“Never tried it, so why not?”

Sanji beamed at Zoro, and honestly, that was enough to endure a bit of sweet food. Zoro helped put the dirty plates into the dishwasher and sat down on the bar chair again. He already loved watching Sanji cook - even if he just heated a bunch of frozen Raspberries. He took out two fancy-looking bowls and put the ice creme into it - topping it off with the Raspberries. They took the bowlers over to the table again and sat down. Sanji’s eyes were glued to Zoro as he took the first spoon.

“Aaaand?”

“It's…not as bad as I thought?” Zoro offered - despite the sour Raspberries it was still too sweet for his taste.

“You’re a bad liar!”

“I just don't want to make you feel bad.”

“Thanks for that,” Sanji smiled. “If you want, you can leave this for me and take the rest of the Raspberries.”

“You sure?”

Sanji nodded, and Zoro pushed his bowl over to him. After that, he went to the kitchen again and grabbed the pot with the warm berries. Coming back over, he heard Sanji snort and look at him unquestioningly.

“Seems to be delicious when you can't even get another bowl but eat straight out of the pot.”

“Am I not allowed to?” A tint of red colored Zoro’s cheeks.

“You are! I just found it funny, that’s all. To me, it’s just such a single live behavior to do that. You don't worry about a plate just because it seems unnecessary to dirty it if the pot is already dirty, and you can also eat out of it.”

“That is exactly what I tried to explain to Nami for years!”

“Well, you don't have to explain it to me.”

They both smiled and ate in comfortable silence again. It was Sanji breaking the quiet atmosphere with a blurred-out question that made his face red as a tomato only a second later.

“Are you single?”

Zoro choked on a spoonful of Raspberries and started coughing.

“Sorry! I shouldn't have asked out of nowhere! You don't have to answer! Sorry!” Sanji’s voice became more and more shrill as he spoke.

He shot up from his chair, his face now completely red, took the two bowls, and headed to the sink. Busining himself with washing the dishes as Zoro stared holes into his back while coughing.

“I…” Zoro rasped, clearing his throat a few times - choking on Raspberries wasn't pleasant; it stung and burned.

“You really don't have to answer,” Sanji said again.

Why did he even ask? The possibility of Zoro being in a relationship was so high! He didn't want to hear that he was taken. Not knowing at least meant he could pretend that this was a date. A bit fucked up, but that was what his mind was set on since Zoro agreed to come over and let Sanji cook for him.

“I am.”

Zoro’s voice came from behind but not from way back at the table. He stood behind him, Sanji realized. What did he say?

“Hm?” Yeah, such a brilliant way to ask him to repeat his words…

“I said I am, Curly. I’m single - for a while now, actually.”

“O…kay…Great…” Sanji blurred out - again without really thinking about his words. “I mean, not great! I’m sorry! Should…should I be sorry?”

Zoro chuckled behind him, and Sanji blushed an even deeper red.

“Sorry, I’m not good at this…fucking shit, this is so embarrassing…”

“I think it’s cute,” Zoro laughed - his voice even nearer to Sanji than a second before.

Sanji felt his heart taking a leap, and he felt breath ghosting over his hair. Shit, Zoro was standing close. Another breath, and he shivered so much that one of the bowls slipped out of his hand and splashed water onto his shirt as it fell into the sink.

“What about you?” Zoro asked casually.

“W…what?” His brain seemed to be turned off.

“Are you single?”

“Yes…”

Another breath, a deep one directly at the back of his head. Hell, what was Zoro doing to him?! His whole body shook, his heart seemed to want to break his ribcage, and his cheeks were burning like on fire.

“Good,” Zoro said. “Otherwise, this would be a bit awkward.”

“What do you mea…”

Sanji swallowed the rest of his question as Zoro’s arms wrapped around his body. He could feel his face pressed against the back of his head, inhaling deeply. A low sound - almost like a grumbly purr - came from Zoro and made Sanji shiver. At first, he was stiff as a plank, but he relaxed quickly and let himself sink against Zoro’s body.

“Go on a date with me, Curly?”

“I…”

“Please?”

Sanji wanted to tell him that, at least for him, this was already a date. But maybe it wasn't for Zoro? He didn't say anything about it, just smiled as he felt Zoro’s hand softly brushing over his belly.

“Yeah, I’d love to do that.”

Prev/next

First part

[forwhump]

a/n; sorry !!!!!!!!!!!!! (either for the delay or the fact that I’m posting again depending on how you feel about me)(I’m from mountains, canada and I drove to prairies, canada & at one point completely out of nowhere my friend was like “you could hide a military base out here so easy” I was like 👀)(silas could literally be in flatlands, manitoba we don’t even know)

anyway LOL this is for the anon that asked for more outside pov !! I was actually looking for smth hal ‘cause I have a lot more lighthearted stuff & sort of caretaking healing things from hal’s pov BUT !!! I felt partway through june needed more screen time & I went back and wrote a lot of early stuff from her pov & this is some of that & it is TOO GOOD not to post !! more wren backstory 😏 but nothing good has happened to wren in his life so y’know

tw/cw: sexual violence, rape, noncon, transphobia, misgendering, graphic depictions of violence, serious bodily harm, forced imprisonment, captivity, mentions of kidnapping, sexual slavery, medical torture

outside pov, military whump, mentions of super soldiers

June has been in the unit for about two years — she thinks — when Point comes to escort her from the common room, and it isn’t unusual. Not at first.

She safely assumes it’s for combat or field training, which are two of the only three things she ever gets escorted from the unit for. The third is medical. She’s never seen anything else, she’s never been taken to any other part of the district, and the hair on the back of her neck starts to rise as Point leads her deeper and deeper into the labyrinth, farther and farther from familiarity.

“Sir?” She tries, and he doesn’t even look at her.

He leads her to a door at the end of a long, empty hallway. He stands with his back to it, finally looking at June. Something in his jaw twitches. “Against my better judgment,” he says, and has to stop, to calm himself, closing his eyes, breathing in slowly through his nose. When he opens his eyes again, he looks at her and says, “if I had another choice, you would not be here. You are about to become privy to information only my most trusted men have been entitled to. It is contraband. If, for any reason, my superiors find out, and she is taken from me, I will not be happy. And if I’m not happy, your employment with me will be terminated by means of your life. Do I make myself clear?”

June had never seen any farther into the district than the arenas, even further underground. This is a single, armoured door, at the end of a long, empty hallway, at the junction of more long, empty hallways. “She?” June asks.

“Do I make myself clear?” Point repeats, and June’s body nods with no help from her brain.

“Sir,” she says.

Point clicks his tongue, irritated, before he unlocks and unarms the door.

It opens to the worst thing June has ever seen in her life.

“Fuck!” She says, and she doesn’t mean to, taking a quick step back. She can see Point watching her, blank, from the corner of her eye, but she can’t look at him. She doesn’t want to look anymore but she can’t pull her eyes off the body laid flat on its back on the concrete.

The costume dress is ripped and stained, tulle and gingham soaked through with blood. The body is so emaciated that June can clearly make out every bone in its leg beneath its waxy, bruised skin.

She fixates on the long, white hair. Robin has the same hair.

“Oh my fucking god,” she says.

Robin speaks of him, still, but he hasn’t been the same since this place got to him. None of them are. He isn’t frantic in the same way, but he still talks about him. When Robin talks, it’s most of what he talks about.

When he’d been taken, escorted here, his brother had been with him. The artist. They’d taken him, too. The soldiers all staunchly denied him ever even having a brother with him, so June had always assumed he’d been killed at the scene. Robin had insisted as long as he’d been there — they’d taken his brother, too. He was here somewhere.

He was right.

June feels cold all over.

“I think her pelvis is broken,” Point explains, and she has never experienced the rush of emotion she feels now, wet and hot, like a tide that breaks in her chest.

“You think her —“ she starts, and it almost makes her gag. She has to take a long breath in through her nose. She still can’t look away. “You think his pelvis is broken?”

“No,” Point admits. “Her pelvis is definitely broken.”

“Oh my fucking god,” June says again, and her voice sounds really far away. Robin’s brother has been real this whole time and Point’s been keeping him as a pet. “Oh my fucking god. You raped him to death.”

“She’s still alive,” Point says, and he says it like she’s dumb. He steps closer to nudge him in the side with the toe of his boot and Robin’s brother makes a quiet, wet sound June has only ever heard from dying men.

She reacts without thinking, shoving Point away from him. He moves, but he sneers as he looks down at her. “Stand down, January.”

“Get the fuck away from him!”

One of his eyebrows lifts, menacing. She doesn’t like Point, and she’s never liked Point, but one of the things she’s growing to loathe is his almost cartoonish villany. His mood swings are goofy and violent and it sets her teeth on edge. “I own her,” he says, low and dangerous. He leans in close. June is a big girl — Point is a massive fucking man. She doesn’t want to be intimidated by him but he speaks like a threat and his breath is hot against her face. “I can do whatever I want to her. That’s not why I brought you here.”

June would be shivering if she let herself, which is interesting because she’s actually as hot as if she’s running a fever. The sweat is cold as it trickles down her spine. “Why did you bring me here?”

Point looks down at the blood dried on the concrete, at Robin’s bleeding, broken brother, and says, “I don’t know what to do.” He looks at June slowly and his face is completely void of any emotion that June knows or recognizes.

“What?” She says.

He looks down again, back up, and she still can’t read his face at all. “I don’t want her to die,” he finally admits.

“Oh my fucking god,” June says, and she doesn’t mean to. She doesn’t know what else to say. She knew Point was a mean bastard but she never would’ve thought he would’ve been capable of this. “You should’ve thought about that before you raped him to death.”

“She doesn’t have to die,” he says.

“What do you want me to do?” June cries.

He looks at her like she’s a little stupid, which is just mind blowing, and motions to Robin’s brother with one arm. The other is held at his back, at ease.

Wren.

The name comes to her out of nowhere.

Robin’s brother is Wren.

“You’re also female,” Point explains, and kind of tilts his head, “I think.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” June says. “So?”

He motions at Wren again.

June looks at him, too, and it’s so much more horrible now that he has a name. He’d had family before, loved ones, somebody who was worried about him, and that was bad enough, but now this small, bleeding thing, broken down the middle, has a name.

Wren.

What was their last name? Some other kind of bird, wasn’t it? Was it Heron?

“I don’t know why you think I can help him,” June says.

Point’s eyebrows lift. “I figured you would’ve dealt with your share of female hysteria.”

“Female hysteria?” June repeats. “He was raped to death!”

“She isn’t fuckin’ dead!” Point snaps.

“He’s dying right now!” June cries. “You know that or you wouldn’t have come for help. What the fuck do you expect me to do? Really?”

Rage simmers in Point’s face for only a second. It’s gone just as quickly, replaced by something shier, almost more bashful. “Word is,” he says tightly, “you were a big…female advocate during your time. I thought you might’ve —“ and he cuts himself, exhaling sharply. “I thought you might’ve known somebody who’d been…hurt like her before. I thought you might know what to do.”

“They died,” June says.

“No,” Point says.

“Yes,” June corrects. “I worked around a lot of men like you. They were always civilians, always young, and they always died. Always.”

“You just let them die?” Point says, like he’s horrified by that.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” June says. “He needs a doctor. Have Medic —“

“No.” When he’s not speaking with too much emotion, Point doesn’t speak with a lot. Still, this is the flattest June’s ever heard his voice.

“Oh my god,” she says. “I know what to do and that’s what I know. If those girls in the field had been allowed access to a doctor they might not have died. They would’ve had a fucking chance, at least. What do you think is —“

“No,” he says.

“You’re really just gonna let him die here?” She protests.

“She’s contraband,” Point says, flat. “I thought I made myself clear.”

“So?”

Point looks her up and down once, lip curling disdainfully. “On paper,” he says, “she was terminated on site.”

Something shivers in June’s chest and makes her breath rattle. “Oh my god.”

“She is an unsanctioned pet,” Point says, “and —“

“Oh my fucking god,” she says. She takes a step away from him and she isn’t sure when she had gotten so deep into this room. She doesn’t like it, but she’s standing between Point and Wren and she can’t bring herself to stand anywhere else.

He kind of rolls his eyes at her. “And —“

“So he was always going to die here!” June cries, and the spike of hysteria in her voice surprises even her but this is fucking unbelievable. This is unreal. This place was a hellscape when these men were just working guard detail at a fucked up mad science program making super soldiers.

She should’ve known better. She was in the military, and she knew what those men were like. Point was right, kind of; she didn’t really work as an advocate, she just got a nickname. She used to fight, physically fight stationed doctors to try and get them to help the girls the soldiers always left behind. But they were always locals, civilians; the military’s doctors weren’t authorized to help them.

She should’ve known they’d never just be working guard detail.

She just never would’ve thought they’d be keeping a fucking sex slave in the basement.

What the fuck?

“What the fuck!”

Point exhales through his nose. “Yes,” he agrees.

June puts a hand to her chest and her heartbeat is like gunfire. Robin had been so hysterical about his brother when he’d gotten here, but he’d been going through withdrawals. June had never doubted that he was real, like Hal had, but she really thought they’d killed him, and that Robin had probably just blocked it out. That he’d completely forgotten it after the lobotomy, or whatever the hell they did to him.

He’d been real this whole time and Point had been keeping him as a pet.

“Oh my fucking god.”

“I don’t want her to die,” Point admits again, and June can feel it under her hand, the way that makes her chest constrict.

“At this point it’s probably the least you can do,” she spits, and her head is spinning.

“No,” Point says, and she hates that she agrees with him, but he’s right.

She can’t let him die down here. Not like this. “He needs a doctor,” she says.

“No.”

“That’s all you can do!” she protests. “There’s no other way to help him! You broke his fucking pelvis. He probably needed a doctor six months ago but if he doesn’t get one now he’s going to die. If you don’t want him to, tell Medic.”

“They’ll take her from me,” Point says.

June throws her arms up. “Then he’ll just be dead!”

Point looks down at her for a long time and she looks right back. She thinks he’s probably trying to intimidate some hidden medical prowess out of her, but she’s serious, and at some point he sees it in her face. His lip curls back from his teeth and he leaves. Without a word, he leaves, and he locks the armoured door behind him.

“Fuck,” June says out loud, and she doesn’t mean to. Her voice breaks.

But they’re alone. At least they’re alone.

Slowly, she turns to Wren, and slowly, she sits beside him. “Hi, Wren,” she whispers. He doesn’t respond and she doesn’t really expect him to. Slowly, she reaches out to him, brushing bits of crusted hair out of his face. He looks like he’s probably really beautiful, and he looks young. He looks so young that it makes June nauseous and she has to do everything in her power to keep her voice soft and calm and sweet. She wants to scream for him. She wants to cry.

She starts to push his hair out of his face and his eyes don’t open but he flinches with his whole body. “It’s okay,” June whispers. “It’s okay. I’m not gonna hurt you. My name’s June. I’m a friend of your brother.”

It stirs something in him. His head turns slowly against the concrete and his hair is so white the parts dried with blood look like they’re rusting. Blinking open his eyes, he looks up at her, and he has eyes so much darker than June was expecting. He has really, really dark, really wide eyes, bloodshot and bruised underneath, and he looks up at June from beneath wet eyelashes and it makes him look even younger and she cries with him, then. She can’t help herself.

“Robin?” He asks, but just barely. His voice is really small, but when June strains to hear it, she can hear Robin’s accent, softer and sweeter. “He’s alive?”

“Yeah,” June agrees, smiling wetly, “and he’s clean. He’s all big now, looks like a real cowboy. They fixed his teeth, too. He’s got a great smile.”

He chokes out a wet sound that June only realizes is a sob when a tear clears a track in the grime on his face.

“I know,” she agrees softly. “Really seems like you got the shitty end of the deal here.”

He makes another choked sound and June likes to imagine that in another life, he got to laugh towards the end. “I’m gonna die,” he says, and June can hear it in how thin, how wet his voice is, that yeah, he probably is, “aren’t I?”

“I think so,” June whispers. “I hope not.”

He chokes out another sound, another sob. “I think I want to,” he whispers, and his brittle voice breaks. “I don’t wanna do this anymore.”

“I know,” she agrees. “I think I would, too.” He moves his head, tips his face up towards the ceiling, and strips of flesh have been peeled from the side of his throat. She takes his hand so carefully, and she doesn’t look at the bruising around his wrist or every one of his broken fingernails. “I don’t think I’d want to be alone,” she explains.

He makes a choked sort of sound. “I’m never alone.”

“I’m sorry,” she says softly. “Do you want to be alone now?” His fingers tighten around June’s, almost frantic, and she says, “it’s okay. I’m not going anywhere.” She squeezes his fingers as much as she’s comfortable, which is just barely. “Couldn’t get very far if I wanted to.”

She’s crying, but that feels rude. What does she have to cry about? She tries to wipe her eyes with the back of her other hand and says, “I’m really sorry this happened to you.”

He doesn’t say anything but his fingers are still shaking so June knows he’s still alive. He’s so cold she thinks it would be hard to tell, otherwise. She doesn’t think she’d let go of his hand either way.

They sit there for such a long time that June thinks that Point’s left them both to die. She holds Wren’s hand and cries for him when he isn’t conscious to hear it. When the door is finally opened again, she jumps so hard it feels like it throws something out in her back.

Jumping to her feet, she keeps Wren safely behind her as Point filters back in, face blank. Close at his back is Medic and June sobs out loud.

She would go as far as to say she likes Medic. A trauma surgeon, Medic is a good doctor and he’s kind to them. He’s a prisoner, too. He doesn’t want to be there, either. Him and the entire rest of his team are fitted with collars, flickering at all times with dangerous red light. Insubordination will lead to electrocution which will lead to death.

Medic is a prisoner and he’s one of if not the only person down here with any sort of humanity left. He reacts to Wren like any normal person would — with horror.

He recoils so hard it makes him take a step back, and he bumps into June. Neither of them acknowledge it. “What the fuck?”

Point opens his arms, dismissive. “Fix her.”

“Who is this?”

“Who cares?” Point says. “Can you fix her?”

“What the fuck?” Medic repeats, ragged. “What did you do to her? Who is this?”

“Robin’s brother,” June says, and Medic looks at her with eyes blown wide with horror.

They blow even wider with realization. He looks at Point slowly. “What the fuck?”

“You’re wasting time,” Point says. “She’s dying.”

“His pelvis is broken,” June tells him quietly, and Medic sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth.

“Fuck me,” he says. He rubs his face slowly, but if there’s one thing June likes best about Medic, it’s that she respects him. When he lowers his hands, he looks at Point. He says, “get the fuck out. Take June back to the unit, and stay the fuck away. If you try to see him at any point while he’s in my care, I will fucking kill you. You understand?”

Point’s lip curls back from his teeth. “You’re in no position to tell me what to do, doc.”

“Then maybe we’ll have Weaver come down here and take a look at him instead,” Medic says.

Point snarls, actually snarls, like some kind of fucked up beast, and the way the sound reverberates through the room is deeply unsettling. But he takes June by the arm, and he turns.

June turns to look over her shoulder, but Medic closes the door between them. As she turns back around, she sees it’s because Point tried to look back, too.

She doesn’t say anything to Robin. Maybe that’s the wrong choice, she isn’t sure. What would the right choice be? Would she wanna know, if it was her? What if she’d been lobotomized?

She doesn’t say anything and she doesn’t see Medic for months. When she does she’s sitting in a bed in the medical bay, trying to peer around for any sign of him. The medical bay, unfortunately, was designed for privacy; the size of a large airplane hanger, there are enough beds for a small army but spaced out far enough that June can’t peer end to end.

When the door is pushed open and Medic lifts the corner of his mouth at her, she has a bullet in her arm but she forgets that it hurts and blurts, “is he okay?”

Medic smiles a little more properly and the relief that crests in June’s chest almost makes her start crying out of nowhere. “No,” he says, “but he’s getting there. He’s alive.”

“Oh my fucking god,” she says, and he laughs. “Can I see him?”

“Let’s get this bullet out of you,” he says, “and we’ll see.”

A few months after that, somebody new is introduced to their unit. Like every other time, they don’t know until the guards show up with them. The new guy, this time, has long white hair, the same colour as Robin’s.

June cries pretty uncontrollably.

Robin doesn’t cry — can’t, maybe? — but June cries enough for him, too.

[midsommarbearsuit]

👓📖Closer Continuation-a Ford Pines x Reader Fic (18+)!📖👓

Hello loves!

Recently I read this fic and I found it absolutely delicious but criminally short, so I wrote a continuation! In order to fully enjoy my part, please read themysteryshackk's first part on ao3! Thanks! She/her pronouns used throughout. WARNING-THIS FIC IS 18+! Enjoy!💘

Stanford continued his work on you, huge hands grappling for any piece of flesh they could find. 

“I’m sure this is exactly what you wanted, hm?” he said, voice low. “Coming down here dressed in such a way…trying to distract me from my research.”

“I’m sorry,” you whined as his hands found your breasts again, molding them.

“You have no clue how often I’ve stared at these, y/n.”

You couldn’t help the wry smile that came to your face. “No offense, doctor, but I have noticed…”

He bristled at the shift in power. As if to rebalance things in his favor, he hoisted your legs up and forced you flat on your back on the sofa so he loomed over you. He pulled your panties off, immediately plunging a finger inside. You groaned, feeling so full immediately.

“Slow down, Doctor Pines…please,” you said, thighs already shaking. 

“Tell me more,” Stanford said. “Tell me what you think of me, dear.”

“Y-you’re the most intelligent person I’ve ever met,” you managed, his fingers fucking into you at a stuttering pace. “It’s such an honor to work with you, sir.”

He growled, taking his leaking cock in his other hand. “Jesus, y/n…”

Even though you could barely handle his finger, you still wanted more.

“Let me make you feel good, sir, please…”

Something darkened in his eyes. “Are you sure you can fit me?” he said, smugness dripping from his voice. He was clearly full of himself, but you didn’t care. You longed to stroke his ego even further. 

“Yes! I’ll do good, I promise…” 

Even with your confident words, your stomach still twisted with nerves. He had a point; could you fit him? Judging by the look on Stanford’s face, it was too late to question it now. 

“You said you wanted to worship me, yes?” he said, lining himself up with your entrance. You winced at the feeling. “Go on. Worship me.”

With that, he thrust himself nearly all the way inside you. The noise you made was far from attractive. You attempted to take all of him, but it wasn’t easy. 

“Are you a virgin?” he asked, stroking your clit casually with his six fingered hand. 

“No sir.”

“Fascinating. You’re incredibly tight, y/n.”

Determined to make him feel good, you pushed your hips down, then up, then down again, attempting to bounce on him. 

You watched as his eyes took in your breasts. “Lovely…” he muttered. One of his hands reached forward to rest at your throat, and your eyes widened. 

Stanford chuckled at your feeble attempts to take all of him in as you writhed beneath him. “Let me help you,” he said. His hand around your neck tightened, his other hand grabbed your hip, and he pulled you down harshly so you were filled completely. 

Tears pricked at your eyes at the sensation, mouth dropping open in a silent scream. 

He took in the look on your face. Jesus, the cocky bastard was practically grinning. “Tell me how it feels, sweetheart.”

Your cheeks heated at the nickname. “Big…” you gasped. “So big…”

He thrusted, pushing against your g spot over and over so you were in a near constant state of orgasm. You felt yourself tighten around him involuntarily. 

“You’re taking it rather well, y/n,” he said, voice only slightly strained. It was almost infuriating how cool he was acting. You would expect such an intelligent, reclusive man to be more awkward with women, especially when one was half nude beneath him. “Such a good research assistant, aren’t you?”

“Please sir…” you whimpered.

“Use your words girl,” he commanded, slowing his thrusts. 

“Don’t stop,” you said. “It would be an honor to have such a genius cum inside me.”

That comment had its desired effect. A growl ripped through Stanford’s throat as he thrusted even harder than he did before. “Good fucking girl…”

You blushed; you had never heard him curse before. 

“I’m close,” he warned you. His grip on your throat tightened until you saw stars. “Take it, sweet girl.”

You felt him pulse inside you, and the sensation had you following right behind him as you groaned his name. 

Embarrassment flooded you immediately. Stanford leaned over you, attempting to catch his breath. He removed himself from you, sighing and pulling his pants back on. You felt glued to the couch, your legs cramping from the vulnerable position he had you in. 

“I’m so sorry Doctor Pines,” you said, finally standing to gather your underwear and put it back on. You felt his large hand on your back, and you turned to face him. 

“You did well,” he said stiffly. Even though he had just come undone in front of you, you still found him as frightening as ever. “Now back to work.”

With that, he left the room, leaving you alone with your spinning thoughts.

[batwynn]

I hate that I’m here… again. I’m so sorry that I’m here again. But once again I’ve been trapped in a difficult situation that I’ve tried literally every way to avoid, prepare for, and roll-up-my-sleeves and do it myself. But at every turn we’ve been ignored, let down by professionals, etc. until I’ve been forced to go into debt just to heat my home because others can’t seem to take any responsibility for things that they’re responsible for. This is genuinely my last ditch effort to find even a little help. I can not go through this again. I’m exhausted, sick, and trying my best to scrape together some commission work while dealing with a really bad flare up of my autoimmune disease. (Hooray) I’m coming up short no matter what I do, and I’m desperate.

Please, if you can, donate and/or signal boost this!

For every donation received, there is a ‘anything goes’ offer of art! Please contact me here or anywhere on social media/email if you’d like to request something!

[sinnbaddie]

JJK Spoilers (Chapter 143)

I love both of their reactions here for opposite reasons

With Megumi, he’s consistently taking responsibility of the consequences of Yuji being alive. He has no regrets about it because he knows Yuji to his core is a good person

So when Yuji says this, Megumi looks absolutely disgusted and angry with him. He knows firsthand Yuji would never willingly kill someone, he’s too kind for that. So he shares the responsibility that Yuji feels is weighing him down instead of telling him “it’s not your fault” because he knows he could never convince him otherwise, he tells him it’s their fault so Yuji can lean on him, so he knows he’s not alone in this

Yuji on the other hand believes vehemently that he’s the one to blame because he harbors Sukuna. He saw the aftermath when he reverted back. Which is why he looks so desperate here, he wants – needs to convince Megumi that he’s dangerous and being around him will get you killed. He doesn’t want anyone but especially Megumi to end up hurt or dead, which is why he’s trying so hard here to make him understand that

That’s why Megumi was so incredibly smart for telling Yuji to save him. He knew too well that arguing with him would be pointless. He gives him solutions, distractions so Yuji wouldn’t sit on if he deserves to die or not.

The way they view Megumi saving Yuji that day is fascinating.

Megumi sees him saving Itadori as a good thing. He saved a good person who can change the world for the better. Yuji sees Fushiguro saving him as a ticking time bomb of destruction. His existence now is going to make the world worse off

The relationship between these two is so well done because really, they work phenomenally together. They care deeply as well as respect one another, especially their opinions. However the angst and tragedy of their writing falls within their own view of themselves and how they view each other, but even then, it’s not because they hate the other, it stems from a place of caring and love.

Megumi not only saved Yuji’s life, but he gave him a purpose when he truly thought his existence was evil. It all boils down to protecting the other.

[elysiumcalled]

Next time somebody at work asks if I can help I’m just saying no idfc anymore

[briar--rising]

My mom stopped doing therapy a few years ago and I wish that she hadn’t. I mean, a therapist isn’t going to help the fundamental issues, esp not at this point. Heck she was in therapy throughout my entire childhood and it’s not like that made her not abuse me. But her dad just died and she’s having lots of feelings about it and if she took those feelings to a therapist instead of me that would be great. But she flat out refuses every time my dad or I bring it up.

[why-the-heck-not]

hate hate hate the feeling of turning in a part of an assignment and being hella embarrased abt how it is :3 like, feeling someone’s just gonna email me like ”hey?? what the fuck ??? what are u doing here this is garbage” like yeah dude i dont know what to tell you, things did not go well this week