#being able to go anywhere in my own house without being on edge constantly is gonna make me

[littlesheeneffect]

Bow Tied Love ❤️

Aziraphael x Reader (AFAB Genderfluid)

Rating: At your discretion.... maybe T

Warnings: Mentions of smutt, mostly fluff, low self esteem, angst, medical issues, slight language

...... Yesterday.......

I made my way to the back of the book shop with a stack in hand, my stomach constantly in butterflies at the thought of Aziraphael. His beautiful eyes, that round face, his fluffy curls, and that sweetly soft body- oh I wished I could just curl up with!

I had to do something, the infatuation was just going to kill me.... it already was killing my blood sugar, blood pressure, and nervous system with that constant state of the feels. Gosh, there he was again!

"Darling, would you mind bringing me the Hidden Hand by-" cut him off by placing E.D.E.N Southworth's novel in his hand. "Thank you love", ugh, he did it again....

I couldn't take it, my health felt like it was being thrown out the windows by my stupidity. Why would he even think something as human as I was? It wasn't possible, and if if it was- it was probably for Crowley that he would, not me. I'm mean, just look at me!

"You know what I've been thinking darling, we should reorganize the far bookshelf on the northeast side of the shop this week. If we get half of it done before Thursday, crepes it is!" He beamed out without looking anywhere in particular.

Suddenly I got the courage, or rather cowardice, to mutter out, " Um, Zira I think I'm gonna head home for the day. It's been quite a week, an, an, and something came up. I don't know if I'll be able to come in on Monday." Crap It sounded to apathetic, so distant, so like this job was nothing and I could careless! Why did I?!?!

"Oh", he said with a simplicity that broke me even more because of my being the cause of it. "Well," he started and I attempted to redeem myself once more. "I mean Zira, I just don't know if it's the right way to say this but I, I won't come in." Crap! "I mean, because I have someone important to care for, and if they go down..... we'll, let's just say it's not,.. you know" Mental Facepalm.

With a near blank expression and wide eyes, Aziraphael replied, " Well, if you refuse to help me, then of course.... you're at liberty to go." Quickly he stood from his seat and exited to a back room. I felt awful. Why did I have to be such a nitwit, so afraid to faint in his arms, that I would make him think I was an ungrateful prig. Ugh!!!!

In fact, I had no idea that I was so heartwrenched by my own actions that I was still seated on the edge of the desk near fifteen minutes later. Right in the same place.

Everything I'd done wrong in life had been swirling about in my mind. Everything that was completely complicated pushed it's way forth. Why was I kicked out of my family's house... cuz I was Genderfluid? Why did such an Angel like Aziraphael take a lowlife like me in.... cuz that who he was, not because of me. Why did I just dis the crush of my life... coz I'm selfish? Why was I so, so- ME!!!??

Little did I realize that AZ had reenterred the room with a concered and surprised look. "Ughm" he cleared his throught. When I didn't look up, he began concerned, "Y/n, weren't you going home?" I finally looked up slowly, yet not fully at him. Just into the distance.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm going" I said in a slurred tone as I wearily stood. Yet the flush drained from my cheeks and I felt entirely weak. As I began to crumble to the floor, Aziraphael's arms caught me.

"Oh darling," he called, " You're having a faint, stay with me dear. Stay with me." As he held me partly propped on his squatted knee and with his arms, I slowly turned my pale face to his. "Zir, zzira?"

"Yes, dear, I'm here- don't worry" he consoled, looking at me to check if I was fading off anymore. "I'm such a terr, terrible person", I moaned in dellusional angst, "I'm so, so"- suddenly the tears just broke forth. "Shhhhhh, shhhh, now my love. That's not true, shhhhh. You're just fine. You are a wonderfully beautiful person, y/n." His voice softly echoed into the weak sobs, as one hand rubbed my back. "Don't you listen to those voices darling, you are perfect. God loves you more than you can ever imagine darling, and so do I. Shhhh now dear, shhhh."

Gradually, a peak of color returned to my blush once more, and I looked up to his gorgeous face. Yet everything was still blurry and off.

In a true delusional and blissful state, I reached a hand up to his greenish checkered bow tie. Tugging it gently, I smiled in a lightheaded elation, " You make this bow tie so handsome, my sweetiepie!"

Then I fully swooned.

(And he may have too, I don't fully know that part. I just remember the lightheaded look he had before it all went black.)

....... Today ......

I was upstairs getting out of Aziraphael's ridiculously soft bed, and noticed it was well past 12 in the afternoon, when I heard a swift nock on the door.

"Hey Angel, oh" I turned to see Crowley stanting in the doorway, surprised as heck. "Umm", he trailed, "Did u and him, are you two, this is, ummm. Morning!" He then quickly turned and left, leaving me nearly caving over in laughter.

Downstairs, Crowley found Aziraphael who was retrieving a tray of crepes in the store. " Angel!" "Oh, Crowley, helloe" Zira turned smiling. "You and y/n slept together?" He blurted out, causing an elated and innocent sway to erupt from Zira. "Mm-hum" he replied on cloud nine.

Crowley paused for a second, hardly believing the angel's reply and reaction. Then shaking it off, he continued in this dirty way. " Well, how was it?" "Oh, it was marvelous!" Zira beamed exuberant. "Did you, was it, was it oral?" Crowley asked, still surprised.

"Was it oral? Whatever on earth are you talking about? How could sleeping be or-" Aziraphael's face suddenly blanked. And Crowley pushed though already seeing Zira realized, "You know, the sex?". Aziraphael straightened with near offense, "The what!?" He then hushed his tone hearing my light singing from upstairs, "How on earth did you draw such a conclusion?" Crowley shook his head knowing nothing of the sort happened between us two, and irritatedly explained, "I seen her in your room and you siad you two slept together! At an adults age that typically means something more that sleeping."

Aziraphael, back in his dellusional state beamed, "Y/n slept in my bed last night because she, she, she-" Crowley's eyebrows raised high above his glasses brim with expectation. "- She loves me and I love her- and, and she likes my bow tie."

With that, I suddenly approached the two in a similar state of euphoria. "Morning Zira!" He smiled back as I grabbed one of the crepes, and he played a soft kiss on my cheek, "Good morning my love!".

Crowley just crinkled his brow at the innocence of it all, before just shugging it off. I myself was such a fool to doubt the love of Zira all those years.

I mean looking back, what else should one expect of an Angel. 😇❤️💍

[eric-cartman-my-beloved]

To the Anon who sent the ask above, I'm so sorry - I was trying to answer it so I saved it to my drafts but then Tumblr wouldn't let me edit it for some reason and I ended up accidentally deleting it😭 I'll be answering it here, hopefully it's not too much of an inconvenience...

Thank you for asking about Tenormancest headcanons though, Anon! I always have more to share, those two are just inexhaustible.

Random🐷🦊

-Alright, so this and the next one are two of my biggest headcanons: Scott gets adopted by Liane sometime after 201 happens because she feels responsible towards him.

-Before that, Scott was constantly stalking Eric without Eric knowing. He would sneak inside his room at night (like we saw him do in Tenorman's Revenge), show up in various events with crowds without Eric noticing, sometimes even follow him around from a distance. (He eases down on that a little after he moves in with Liane and Eric because...well, he can learn where Eric is at any moment and what he is doing much more easily.

-Occasionally, during the winter months, they might actually"cuddle". Or, it might be more accurate to say that Scott puts a headlock on Eric and forces him to stay close to his body. (It's because Eric is warm, okay?)

-Being that they obviously have very different body types, they each experience temperature quite differently. So while Scott gets easily cold, Eric gets warm more easily during the warmer months of the year. As a result, they argue constantly about the heating in the house (among other things).

-You know those "contests" some couples have where one says "I love you", the other says "I love you more" and they argue over who loves the other more? They have those too. Except that they say something along the lines of "I hate you more", obviously.

-Eric is clearly not obsessed with Scott in the same way that Scott is with him, but he is not as indifferent as he claims to be. After living in the same house with Scott for a while, he gets...used to Scott bothering him, in a way, so he will notice if Scott stops harassing him or if they don't have as many fights, and he will wonder what might have caused Scott to stop paying as much attention to him. He never admits to anything though.

Beach 🏖️😎

-Scott likes to destroy the sandcastles Eric builts when he's not looking.

-They don't really go swimming together often but when they do Scott loves dragging Eric underwater and holding him there until Eric is sure he is going to drown. (He lets him take air at the last moment though, so don't worry. Much.)

-Eric loves making fun of Scott for not being able to stay under the sun for long periods of time (since, you know, pale redhead and scorching sun don't get along that well).

-Since Scott has to sit under the shade most of the time, he doesn't get as many chances as he'd like to bother Eric, much to his own misfortune.

-If Scott happens to get a sunburn, Eric will laugh at him and won't stop from trying to pat him on the spot that got burnt. He finds it tremendously funny.

-If Eric is standing anywhere near a relatively short cliff where there's water under it, Scott will definitely sneak up behind him and push him off the edge to get a few laughs.

-Generally, if they settle on not bullying each other too much temporarily (it doesn't happen often), Eric will be off to the sea swimming near the shore and looking for fish to observe, and Scott will be under an umbrella, either on his phone or reading a book.

-Liane buys them ice-cream before they leave but Scott usually has no appetite for it, so Eric ends up eating ice-cream for the both of them.

Amusement Park🎡🍭

-Liane gives the money for the rides to Scott before letting them roam freely and tasks him with managing it because he's the older one.

-It pisses Eric off to no end and he never stops trying to distract Scott in order to steal it.

-If he manages to get the money, Scott will have to chase him across the park to get it back. He's learnt the hard way that chasing Eric is far from being easy.

-Of course they argue about which rides they should go to first.

-Scott makes fun of Eric for not being able to access certain rides because of his height.

-Lines, lines, lines. We all know how much Eric hates them. Scott is also not very fond of them. So they work together on figuring out creative ways to trick people in order to take their places. Keeps them both busy and happy.

-Something they both agree on wanting to visit are the variations of a "haunted house" you'd find in amusement parks. Eric because he wants to prove how brave and awesome he is, Scott because he's curious. Scott barely flinches every time something throws itself at them (seriously, he's next to impossible to jumpscare) but Eric gets obviously startled every time, even though he denies everything afterwards.

One time, he got so scared that he basically ran and hid behind Scott. Later, he claimed it was so he would prevent Scott from running away in case he was "being too much of a wuss".

-Eric constantly asks for snacks (popcorn, cotton candy, etc.) but Scott tells him that if he has too much, then they won't have enough money to go on more rides, and Eric just...loses it. He can't grasp the concept of placing his needs in a logical order.

-Liane comes back to pick them up with the car and by the time she does, they're both exhausted. Eric ends up falling asleep on the ride home. If Scott is too tired from chasing after him, he might doze off a bit too, so they end up kind of leaning against each other in the backseat. Liane thinks it's very cute how they're "bonding", so she secretly snaps a picture of them.

Sorry for taking so long to answer this Anon, I wanted to write some fun headcanons :D Also, sorry again for not responding to this directly...

Anyways, thanks for the ask again...!

[etheriaaly]

Just The Two Of Us [C! Tommyinnit x GN! Reader]

FLUFF TO ANGST (PLATONIC)  WARNINGS: Mentions of suicide, suicidal thoughts, character death, cursing

Reader pronouns: They/them 

A/N: Hi, this is my first DSMP fanfic so uhh I hope u enjoy lmao. There might be grammatical errors so pls do not mind it :D

ɴᴀᴠɪɢᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ∣ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

—

[Y/N] already lost count of all the pranks and chaos they made with Tommy. They didn't like causing havoc or pulling pranks on people but if Tommy asked them to tag along, they would. Tommy is their best friend after all. Plus, where's the fun in life without a little risk?

[Y/N] was just at their Cottage house, peacefully making the potions that Quackity ordered just hours ago. Since [Y/N] is a skilled witch, it was no shock when they owned a Potions business. Everyone in the SMP server knows about this and they usually come and buy their potions. 

They were about to finish the last set of potions that Quackity ordered until they ran out of ingredients. "Dammit." [Y/N] muttered under their breath. They turned around and immediately went to find if they have any stock ingredients in their barrels or chests.

When they saw no stock ingredients, [Y/N] sighed and decided to do some last minute ingredients grinding. It was until they opened the door and saw Tommy standing in front of their house door.

[Y/N] knew that his presence is no good because that motherfucker is grinning ear to ear. They playfully groaned and asked, "What is it this time child?"

"Hey, I told you not to call me a child anymore!" Tommy suddenly protested, feeling insulted but went back to his sly grin and said, "Let's prank Skeppy and Bad." 

"That's a horrible idea." 

"Come on, bitch. It'll be fun." 

And they did come with Tommy. A couple hours had passed and [Y/N] had already forgotten about the ingredients they were gonna get for Quackity's potions. Tommy said that Big Q's order can wait but the prank can't. 

It wasn't long after Bad and Skeppy saw the two teenagers doing their little harmless prank on them. 

[Y/N] caught sight of the two and immediately tugged on Tommy's shirt. "Fuck, Tommy we gotta go." 

Tommy, unfazed and still focused on the prank, said, "Just a little longer." 

[Y/N] nudged Tommy's side using her elbows as the two teenagers can now hear Skeppy and Bad's incoherent yelling drawing closer and closer to them. 

"RUN!" [Y/N] yelled as they both left the things they used to try to prank BBH and Skeppy. 

The two let out a laugh as they ran away. Tommy constantly turned his head back to see if Skeppy and Bad are still after them. 

[Y/N] and Tommy continued to run even though Bad and Skeppy stopped coming after them. It wasn't until the two teenagers finally stopped running so that they could catch their breath. 

"What now?" [Y/N] gasped, who is still out of breath from both running and laughing at the same time. They looked at Tommy. 

Tommy grinned again and then grabbed their arm, "I have something pog to show you." 

[Y/N] didn't question Tommy and just let him drag them to a mountain. 

Once they have reached the destination, [Y/N] let out a 'wow'. The view is breathtaking and it is very peaceful. The mountain isn't that very far from the SMP but it looks like very few have come across this part. 

"So, what do you think?" Tommy asked, looking at the view. The view consists of the calming ocean waves and a peaceful sunsetting with birds passing by. 

[Y/N] turned to Tommy and smiled, "This could be our secret spot." They slowly walked towards the edge of the mountain cliff but were immediately stopped by Tommy. 

"Oh, [Y/N] wait. Be careful, the edge of the cliff looks really faulty." Tommy warned. 

[Y/N] immediately stepped back a little and took note of what Tommy said. But, they were still curious and looked down at the edge of the cliff, only to see the water from below. 

If someone would fall from this cliff and took a heavy impact on the water, that person wouldn't survive due to how high the mountain cliff is. 

[Y/N] then proposed, "You know, when things are stressful and stuff. We can just go here, sit in silence and look at the view as the wind or the waves takes away our problems for a while." 

"Just the two of us." The blonde haired lad said and then they both stood in silence, admiring the view and beauty of the server. 

Oh, if only you could turn back in time and relive this memory. If only things are still the same the way it was before. 

It's been so long since [Y/N] had fun and peace. Probably so many months since Tommy first showed them their secret mountain hangout area. 

[Y/N] currently stood still, gazing at the view that was once calm and peaceful but was now replaced with sounds of flying TNTs, fireworks and screams from the background.

They were in no state of mind as of the moment. They don't even know what to do anymore. A lot has changed ever since the wars, the exilation of Tommy. 

[Y/N] sniffed, wiping their tears using their now mangy sleeves caused by the current chaotic event. They continued to stare at the ocean, a potion of poison glistening in their hands. 

[Y/N] looked at the Potion of Poison that they were holding and pondered whether to drink it or not. 

Maybe it's best to end it once and for all. They don't have anywhere to go anyways. They don't have any friends or family to turn back to since everyone is against them or thought badly of them now. 

[Y/N] can't even go back to L’manberg as well since they're now a wanted criminal for breaking the laws and escaping from their house since they're supposed to be on house arrest for the crimes they didn't even do. 

They opened the cork of the potion, but they didn't drink it yet. They let their mind wander for a while and process everything that has happened. 

Maybe Dream was right. Maybe the people they loved never even cared for them at all. Maybe it was all just a lie. Maybe—

"[Y/N]." A familiar voice that they haven't heard in a while. 

It was windy. The cool breeze of air touched their skins. But along with the wind, there are particles of TNT or fireworks dusts. 

The [H/C] haired person turned around and saw their best friend for the first time in months. 

"Tommy." [Y/N] replied. Their voice were hoarse and dry. "What are you- What are you doing here?" 

"I could ask you the same thing." Tommy glared at them.

[Y/N] quietly groaned, closed their eyes for a while and pinched their nose bridge, still holding the potion on their other hand. "So, you believe all that shit?"

"Enough for me to believe the fact you tried to murder Tubbo, burn my invites and team up with Dream." 

Tommy added, "Maybe they were right about you. You're Dream's sibling after all." 

[Y/N] scoffed and threw their available hand around the air, "He may be my sibling, but we are never alike." 

"Why, [Y/N]? Why did you do it?" Tommy asked, hands gripping tighter on his sword. "Did Dream finally get into your head for you to commit these crimes? Or did you just do it because it's in your blood?" 

"You don't know a thing that happened," [Y/N] harshly spit back, completely trying to avoid the topic of Dream. "Of course you don't. You were exiled."

Tommy never understood why. Why had they turned like this? He felt rage and betrayal. During his exiled time, Tommy thought that they were gonna be that one person who would try to find him. Comfort him or even send him secret coded messages. But no, he received nothing. 

It hurts. Hurts like hell to know your best friend turned their back on everyone. A best friend that he has known for years. A part of him wants to believe they didn't do it but the proofs are enough for him to believe it was really them. 

"Well, you really can't blame me can you? You can only blame yourself," [Y/N] said. "This all started because of you and your stupid discs. All you ever care about is the FUCKING DISCS. Wars started, lives were lost, relationships were destroyed, all just because of those discs." 

They had never done this before. This was their first time just being angry and shouting at each other. Although this might be new to each other, it was obvious that they have been bottling up their emotions way too long. 

"You know what?! Things would be so much better if only you didn't exist." Tommy instantly regretted what he said as soon as he saw a potion glisten from [Y/N]'s hands. 

He may not be an expert but he knew well enough of the potions due to him hanging out too much with them before. "What are you doing?" Tommy immediately asked. "Is that a potion of poison?" 

"Nothing for you to care about." [Y/N] turned back towards the cliff and stared at the view once again. 

"Just the two of us again here, huh?" They said as they pulled the potion towards their mouth, just inches away from the lips now until Tommy hurriedly ran towards [Y/N] and tackled them. 

"What are you, an idiot?!" Tommy scolded as they both fought each other while trying not to fall from the cliff. He tried to pull the potion of poison away but it was hard since they kept gripping on it. 

It wasn't until Tommy was finally able to remove the potion from [Y/N]'s grasps. He threw the potion far away as it got smashed on the ground. 

The two of them were too busy fighting over the potion to notice that one of them is now standing on the faulty edge of the cliff. 

[Y/N] was on the edge of the cliff and accidentally backed away from Tommy, thinking there was still space. A loud shriek came out of their mouth.

Tommy immediately ran towards the edge, scrambled on his feet and looked down. Luckily, [Y/N] was able to hold onto the edge but their hands are shaky and tired from all the things that just happened. 

"I got you, I got you." Tommy frantically muttered, his breath increasing as to not knowing what will happen next. 

[Y/N] grip is slowly failing. Once their hands slipped, Tommy instantly grabbed their hands and tried to pull them back up. But, he too was tired from everything that has been happening. 

He tried to pull them up again but it was no use. Stress was adding up even more the moment they both felt the edge of the cliff shaking once more. 

Tommy can't do it anymore. So, he let out all the tears he's been trying to fight back. 

"It's gonna be okay, Tommy. Let me go." 

The blonde haired teen's eyes widened at [Y/N]'s statement. He can't do it. He can't bear to lose another loved one in his life. 

"I can't lose you too, [N/N]." Tommy croaked. 

The two might've fought just minutes ago but this is now a life and death situation. Problems and angst aside, they still care for each other. 

"You already did." Tommy's eyes widened in confusion and sadness. [Y/N] forced their hand to slip from his as Tommy tried to tighten it even more. [Y/N] had a few energies remaining, so they used it to push themselves off the cliff with their foot, making Tommy let go. 

For Tommy, everything is going so fast that his mind almost stopped working. 

But everything was in slow motion for [Y/N]. The fresh wind was so refreshing, almost making them forget what is currently happening to them. 

They closed their eyes, not wanting to see anymore reactions from Tommy. This is their end. This was meant to be. 

The moment [Y/N] chose to fall out from Tommy's grip, the blonde panicked and set aside all items he had with him. Without thinking properly, he lunged himself off the cliff. The only goal he had in mind was to save [Y/N] before it's too late. 

But he was, indeed, late. 

Everyone's communicator beeped. They all took at least some time to look at what the message could be on the communicator. As soon as everyone read the 2 words, their jaws dropped. 

[Y/N] drowned. 

[erimeows]

Intervention, Baby

Unlike many of his Autobot counterparts, Prowl adored organics- especially the ones on earth, whether that be the plants, animals, or humans.

His favorite, though? You. You by far. 

After arriving on earth, Prowl had become obsessed with people watching, usually taking long strolls around the city or going to public parks to watch how humans lived their daily lives. Something about the human species by itself was captivating, but when he’d seen you for the first time, (e/c) eyes and (h/l) (h/c) hair shining under the bright sun as you walked into the local flower shop, he had been completely and utterly enthralled. He’d known that he was supposed to avoid interactions with humans that weren’t necessary according to Prime, but he hadn’t been able to help himself that day. So, he’d gone into the flower shop and sparked a conversation with you to figure out exactly what it was that had him so interested; what it was about you that was so different than the other humans he watched.

You had just moved to Detroit from your hometown for a new job, which explained why he hadn’t seen you before that, and as he’d talked to you that day, he became more and more intrigued. You’d started renting a house nearby, with your very own flower garden, which you showed him that day. He hadn’t been able to tell you much at the time about Cybertron for security reasons, but what he did tell you about himself, you listened to intently. You were a great listener, with kind eyes and a bright smile that made his spark stop at times.

Prowl had been a cautious bot. Whatever caution he had maintained since being on earth had flown out the window with you, though, as he fell quickly, often sneaking away from the Autobots to spend time with you at your house or visit you at your job. A strong friendship was quickly formed, and with how much he was gone, his teammates quickly became suspicious.

It started with questions, the others asking where he was all the time and why he was suddenly so interested in stopping by flower and gardening shops whenever they were out. Naturally, Optimus was the first to figure it out, asking if he’d met someone and then leaving the subject alone when Prowl avoided the subject. However, Bumblebee was the next to catch on, and he had no sense of personal boundaries, so he dragged Bulkhead along to follow him to your house. While it wasn’t the best first impression, that was how you met Bumblebee and Bulkhead, and eventually Optimus and Ratchet as well- since the secret was out in the open now and no one seemed to disapprove of you, Prowl had started bringing you around the Autobot base.

The rest was history, but the more Prowl developed his relationship with you, the more fearful he became for the future. He was a wise and emotionally mature bot, he figured, but he didn’t know how to handle his feelings for you. He had fallen in love. He was cybertronian, you were human, and it wouldn’t be fair to you to initiate anything- not that he thought you returned the feelings anyways. No, you were too pure and sweet, kind and beautiful, fragile and soft. He feared hurting you most of the time. He feared falling deeper. He feared starting something he couldn’t finish and leaving you hurt in the end, but each day he spent with you only made it worse.

Why did he love you? Why couldn’t he have fallen for another Autobot? Why a human? The thoughts plagued his processor constantly, but when you reached over to grab one of his digits and pull him along to show him something in your garden or smiled up at him, he couldn’t help it. You were so soft and delicate, but you still treated him like you would anyone else. You weren’t scared of him, you always offered a listening ear when he needed it, and you opened up to him in return.

Warm, bright, radiant- Prowl felt like you were all of the things that he wasn’t, and as he returned to base and walked into the main room, he couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief. Spending time with you seemed exhausting nowadays. He always left with a troubled processor and an uneasy feeling. Was it right to keep seeing you when he knew it wouldn’t go anywhere? Would his unresolved feelings get in the way of your friendship? What was he to do at this point? As much as he’d tried to simply make the feelings go away, he couldn’t; couldn’t develop an interest in anyone else, couldn’t think of anything he didn’t like about you to kill his attraction, couldn’t will it away. Nothing worked, so he drowned himself in it, and while he would have loved to sulk for a little bit, his attention was captured by his team.

He’d walked into... Something, though he wasn’t quite sure what that something was yet. His entire team was crowded onto the living room couch, silent, staring up at him. Seeing them all in one room at the same time was rare when they weren’t sharing energon or working against the Decepticons, but seeing them all in one room and quiet? Something was wrong. 

“Where did you just come from, Prowl?” Bumblebee, who was sitting in the middle of the couch with Bulkhead to his right, crossed his arms as he asked the oddly accusatory question and leaned forward.

“(y/n)’s, why?” Prowl answered. He was so uneasy that he found himself shifting his weight from one pede to the other and averting his gaze. While he wasn’t normally avoidant like that, when it came to you, he couldn’t help how nervous he got.

“Don’t worry about it, but-” Bulkhead started, letting out a nervous chuckle.

The atmosphere was tense and awkward. Optimus Prime, next to Bulkhead on the edge of the couch, wouldn’t even look at him. Meanwhile, Ratchet, who was on the other side of Bumblebee, appeared to be growing increasingly agitated with each second that passed. 

“What is the meaning of this?” Prowl finally demanded, which made Bumblebee stand up and point right at him with a huge grin.

“Intervention, baby!” The yellow bot cheered.

“Intervention? I’m not abusing substances if that’s what you’re-”

“No, no, that’s not what we’re getting at, you bucket of bolts!” Ratchet groaned and face-palmed. “We’re here to talk about you and (y/n)!”

There were two ways this could go, and Prowl wasn’t sure which one he hated more.

One, his team could be concerned about him spending so much time with a human who had nothing to do with their cause. It was a valid concern and he knew it- spending so much time with you put you in at risk of getting involved with the Decepticons like Sari, and unlike Sari, you had no key or Cyber-organic powers to protect you. You were simply human, and it wasn’t fair to you to put you in danger the way he was. But he was selfish.

Two, his team could be concerned about his feelings for you. Whether for the aforementioned reasons or because they had to watch the two of you interact all the time, he wasn’t sure, but it would make sense. He certainly hadn’t expected them to call an intervention over either issue, though, so all he could do was stand there.

They were staring at him. 

It was... Embarrassing, to say the least.

“I don’t see why this would be considered even remotely appropriate- And Optimus, Ratchet,” Prowl glared at the two older bots, knowing damn well that they knew better than to do this to him. “I expect it from these two, but you? I thought you were more mature than this, but I see I was mistaken.”

“Don’t come at us with your maturity spiel when you can’t even mech up enough to tell (y/n) your true feelings,” Ratchet spat.

“Ratchet, you could have phrased that with a bit more tact, but I do believe you are correct,” Optimus agreed with a small nod and offered a smile, glancing at Ratchet and then at Prowl. “While we don’t have the right to dictate what you do, Prowl, it’s become obvious to everybot what’s going on, and... We all support you. You should be honest with (y/n) and tell her the truth. Love is something that should be appreciated and cherished, not hidden away.”

“Yeah! Plus, it hurts to watch you two dance around each other when it’s so obvious what’s going on,” Bumblebee argued. “She likes you back-”

“No, she doesn’t, and even if she did, how would this work?” Prowl raised his voice without meaning to, and the moment he heard how loud his volume was, he paused to take a deep breath and reflect. His team had good intentions, they wanted him to be happy and enjoy a relationship for once, but he was so scared. Why couldn’t they leave him alone? With a sigh, he spoke again, not daring to look at any of his friends. “I’m Cybertronian and she’s organic, and we could have to go back to Cybertron any day now- or, even worse, the Decepticons could kill us. Would it not be selfish of me to confess my feelings for her, start a relationship, and then leave or die? Assuming that she wants anything to do with me, that is.”

“Listen, I get where you’re coming from, but you’ve heard the saying here on earth that it’s better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all, haven’t you? (y/n) would be more upset if you left or died without telling her the truth than she would be if you told her beforehand. No matter what happens in the end, at least she’d have some closure that way, because she does love you too,” Bulkhead insisted.

“No, she doesn’t,” Prowl mumbled, not having any other defense. Did he think you loved him like that? No, but did he have definite proof that you didn’t? Also no, so he was left without a solid defense, but too stubborn to concede to his friends’ (valid) points. “You’re wrong.”

“Yeah she does, dude, you’re just wrong,” Bumblebee walked over to him and put a servo on his shoulder, meeting his optics, uncharacteristically intense- borderline angry. “How can you even know if you haven’t talked to her about it?”

“How can you know?” Prowl defended and jabbed a digit into the younger bot’s chest plate. The two continued to stare each other down for a few moments before Bee finally sighed and looked away.

“Because I’ve talked to her about it.”

“...Oh. I see,” The black and gold bot took a step back and fidgeted with his servos. He had never expected for you to confide in Bumblebee about such a matter, but then again... Aside from Prowl himself, Bumblebee was your best friend and always had been since he’d started bringing you around. The two of you were similar; innocent, kindred souls with similar interests. Unlike Prowl, the yellow bot brought out your more energetic, fun side, making you laugh constantly, but... He hadn’t been aware of the fact that Bumblebee was a confidant for you, too. Part of him was jealous, but he tried to shove that down with a tense swallow. “I’m going to take my leave, then.”

“That’s what I thought,” The smaller bot smirked, earning a glare from Prowl in return.

“Get bent.”

~

That entire night and the day after were spent locked in his room reflecting upon everything; his feelings, you, the advice that his teammates had given him during their little “intervention”, the potential consequences of what he was about to do.

Whether he wanted to or not, he knew that he needed to confess. What if one of you died without ever saying anything? What if he went back to Cybertron without ever having the chance to tell you the truth and regretted it? What if you had to leave Detroit someday? It was too big of a problem to leave unresolved given how chaotic and unpredictable your lives were, even if he was scared of what could happen. Plus, half the battle was you loving him back, and if Bumblebee told the truth the day prior, you already did.

So, Prowl sat on your roof. Waiting. You were outside for whatever reason despite it being midnight on a Tuesday in human time, laying in your backyard and admiring your flowers. Since it was a warm fall, they were growing quite well, your pumpkin crop in particular thriving. He’d been watching you for a while; (s/c) skin glowing as the moonlight shone upon your body, (f/c) shorts and a black sleepshirt hugging your frame. Your (e/c) eyes were currently trained on your rosebush, though he was sure you had noticed his presence- even though he wasn’t visible behind your chimney, you had an amazing knack for being able to feel when he was there, visible or not. 

“(y/n)?” The Autobot finally spoke, emerging from his hiding place and jumping down into your backyard to stand next to where you lay. 

You sat up to look at him with a tired smile. It was late and you had work tomorrow... Something must’ve been on your mind, too. Perhaps the two of you were in sync with your recent concerns.

“Hey, Prowl, you’re up late. Why don’t you lay with me?” Unable to say no to you, Prowl did just that, joining you on the grass and laying with his back on the ground. The stars that littered the sky were fogged up by the city lights, but while he normally would’ve been agitated by it, you were better to stare at, so he didn’t mind too much. “You sat on my roof for a while and didn’t even talk to me. What’s keeping you?”

“Ah, it’s nothing, I just-” The ninjabot started, close to denying everything flat out and ignoring the subject of his feelings yet again before realizing that’s what the problem was. He couldn’t open up to you and it was making everything convoluted, so with a sharp breath, he gathered all of his willpower and spoke to you again. “No, you know what? I’m tired of this.”

“What?” You looked shocked at the sound of his agitated tone, eyebrows furrowing together as you sat up and glanced at him, making him sit up as well. Your (e/c) eyes burned into his ocean optics in that moment, and a brief silence washed over the two of you before he spoke again.

“I’m tired of us hiding from each other,” Unable to help himself, Prowl leaned closer to you and reached over to rest a servo on one of your hands. “Be honest, what are your feelings towards me?”

You stopped, your breath visibly catching in your throat. The black and gold bot could immediately tell you were nervous, terrible at hiding your negative emotions like you had been since he’d met you, but he let you have as much time as you needed.

“Prowl, it’s a bit sudden for you to ask something like that out of nowhere. You know we’re friends-” You started, but when you looked closer at his face, you gave him a defeated sigh that made him realize; you knew he knew. “Who told you?”

“So it’s true,” He stated, holding your hand tightly and giving a soft frown. Your face was painted with the same fear and anxiety that he’d felt over loving you for so long now. 

Part of him was happy that you loved him back. The other part almost wished you didn’t, wished you could live your life happy and blissfully unaware to avoid the risk of getting your heart broken.

“I’m sorry,” You apologized.

“What do you have to be sorry for, sweetspark?” Prowl asked, tone gentle as he used his spare hand to caress your cheek and leaned in to rest his helm against yours. “I’d be a fool not to reciprocate, but I want to hear it for myself before I do anything. Tell me how you feel.”

“I’m in love with you, Prowl,” You admitted. A couple of tears welled up in your eyes and flowed down your cheeks, those of which Prowl wiped away with his thumb. “I’ve been captivated since the moment I saw you, and I never planned on telling you. I’m afraid of you getting attached to me and not being able to handle it if we ever have to separate because I’m sure there will be a day when you have to go back to your home planet. You can’t stay forever, and I can’t go with you.”

“I feel the same way... I love you too, (y/n)- so much that I don’t think you understand. I held off because I fear having to leave you someday, but I realized that we should take advantage of what time we have left and try our best to make this work,” In between his words, you let out what he assumed was a sigh of relief, making him do the same. Prowl quickly felt the weight of his anxieties leaving his chest and shoulders. He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss against your plump, warm lips, then withdrew to press a few more against your cheeks and forehead. You giggled; a sound he would listen to for the rest of his life if he could. “I think we’ll be alright in the end.”

“I...” You grinned and leaned into him with another laugh. “I think so, too. But who told you?”

“That’s... Quite the story. You see, yesterday afternoon, I got back to the base after visiting you and...”

Prowl smiled as well as he started his story. Things were complicated, and he knew this was risky, but you wrapping an arm around one of his and gripping his hand made him realize just how worth it you were. 

Maybe that intervention hadn’t been too bad of an idea after all.

[heli0s-writes]

lights up*

A/N: Stucky (primarily Steve)/Reader. 2k words of idkwhatthisisi’msorry. There was a prompt from six months ago that I wrote this for but I lost the message and I can’t remember! All mistakes are my own, please stop reading if you are not 18+

brooklyn after dark masterlist

You wake up in scattered shock.

Knee-jerk reaction to fast hands sliding between your thighs, fingers carelessly ticking sensitive skin.

You wake up to a groggy voice, slurred with sleep and raspy-raw.

“Baby,” it croaks from between your legs, “Honey, sweetheart, sugar. Please, please, please let me eat your pussy.”

Wha—

A few disbelieving blinks as you scrabble for your bearings—can’t see shit—still dark—head throbbing.

“Oh god, I wanna sosososo bad,” and then hands are between your knees, spreading your legs apart. “So… damn... tasty. Uh-huh… Come to daddy.”

Who the fuck is—damn it, Bucky.

In the dead hour of four-something when nothing should be moving so intentionally, an unsteady moan tumbles out of him when he starts groping for your ass.

“Buck!” You whisper, kicking your leg to shake him off. Grabbing the covers with one hand, you reach under with the other, swatting his head and trying to get a firm hold on him. Slippery fucking man.

He pauses for a second before his body goes limp, half hanging off the foot of the bed and you groan at his weight. Idiot boy. Two hundred pounds of horny somnambulist dropping like an anchor on your poor legs.

Fiddling now with how to get him back up to his regular spot, you try to do it quietly, the warmth radiating next to your left shoulder a compelling incentive. Even with your wits barely about you, you know better than to wake—

“Whassit? Whas goin’ on?”

Steve. Ah.

“Nothing,” you sigh, reaching over and stroking his arm absently, one foot tapping against Bucky’s waist to urge him upward. “He’s just sleep-talking again.”

Steve makes a groggy noise of comprehension. “Sleep-talking or sleep-fucking?”

“Just sleeping now. Ugh… didn’t mean to wake you.”

He’d come in late again—meetings and paperwork keeping him well after hours. Not even able to do it from home, which would have been nice. At least here you could make sure he was eating, or drinking enough water, or at least be in the presence of good company.

Instead, you and Buck watched a movie, took a few rounds of shots (because he likes the taste and how you look dancing all over the coffee table), fooled around in the kitchen, and turned in around two—Steve nowhere in sight. Some jobs were Captain-Only, which meant you’d have to make peace with being useless.

That’s generally not a task that goes over well. The amount of untamed energy Bucky exudes without Steve’s guidance is… close to being categorized as a natural disaster and trying to stay up with him is always a double-edged sword. Lots of fun, sure, but he requires less sleep than you do and can finagle you into getting piss drunk with a single smirk.  

“Wish you’d been more responsible.” Bone-tired and Steve’s still bossy. His arm is heavy as it snakes over your tummy. “You know he needs direction.”

“Hey, I tried.”

“Issat right? That why your panties’re on the counter? Shirt in the sink, too. Come home close to four and still gotta clean up after the two of you.”

His raspy breath tickles, plump lips crushed just below your ear—enough to start a chain reaction of shudders.

“Go back to sleep,” you huff, embarrassed. It was only a few hours ago so your head’s still a bit fuzzy—vague memory of playful touches before hearing, hop up, baby, from Bucky. And you, tittering and zealous the whole way, kissing him like he’d never been kissed before.

YouTube blinking on the T.V., stuck on some ad because the streaming’s a snail’s pace from when Steve set up the internet and tried to pinch pennies at the same time. Bucky’s specially crafted “Wine, Dine, and Sixty-Nine” playlist refusing to load even half a song afterwards so neither of you could spare your neighbors from hearing all the noises.

Hopefully the laughter was loudest, and not the primal fucking, or the crashing when you slipped off the counter and knocked Bucky on his ass.  

You giggle at that. Years and years together and some nights still feel brand new.

“Have fun without me?”

There’s no real jealousy in Steve’s voice, but there is greed behind the question. A single night away and he acts like he’s never been kissed either.

Your eyes start fluttering when his fingers curl around your hipbone. Je-sus. Hell. It’s too late—early—for this.

You grumble his name, asking him to save it for a couple more hours when your brain doesn’t feel pried free, but, Captain-Only mode activated and he’s not deterred. A bloodhound on a fresh trail.

The hand on your hip turns inward and you’re suddenly aware of him pressed against your body, that hot line of him, pulsing on your upper thigh. He tilts forward, one knee rubbing up your leg. Bucky stirs a little and makes another declaration about how he’s fit for the CEO position of Eating Your Ass, but nothing more after that.

“He do you good?” Steve wonders, apparently not giving a fuck about whether Bucky’s dead or alive down there and instead only worried about repositioning you, rolling you on your side, “That why you’re so happy to get me out of the house? So you two can fool around unchecked as much as you want?”

“Steve, you know damn well—"

His hand slips around the side of your neck, four thick fingers drumming over the ridges of your throat. “Watch your mouth,” he whispers, “before you get yourself into any more trouble.”

He gets mean without enough sleep. And no one would ever guess, but other than working over some poor punching bag that’ll never see the light of day after he gets his hands on it, Captain America likes to fuck it out. You and Buck have properly come out of a few sessions barely alive, feeling like two ends of a slinky that’s taken one too many tumbles down a flight of stairs.

You squirm as he palms your bottom with his free hand, kneading the bare flesh a flimsy pair of sleeping shorts can’t cover.

“Gotta be quiet,” he tells you gently, “Can’t wake him, can we.” Christ help you. What a time to play a game. You mumble under your breath, “Do I have a choice?”

A prod at your already sore entrance, and Steve says, annoyingly convinced, “I think you’ve already made your choice.”

He stills for a second when Bucky flops around on the mattress and then he starts pressing his mouth to your back, your shoulder, other hand holding you steady with expertise. It’s Steve’s favorite position when he wants to be in charge—you, writhing and turned away, usually leaned about 50 degrees and pawing at Bucky’s chest—this morning, feebly snatching sheets instead.

It doesn’t take any buildup. He’s achingly ready; you’re willingly wet. Clothes moved just enough out of the way and his two fingers slide upward, pushing barely to spread you before he quickly replaces it with something much thicker. It’s only been a few seconds. He’s too fast for you to get a word in edgewise, your brain still muddled, body cooperative.

“Huh,” Steve mumbles, slowly feeling his way into position, “A bit fucked loose, aren’t you?”

“Steve,” you hiss in reply, clenching up reflexively the same time mortification bursts across your scrunched- up face. “Don’t say that.”

“Hush, baby.”

“I’m trying—”

“Try harder.” And he’s evil incarnate, you swear. Satan himself packaged up in the neat body of a demigod. He rolls his hips slowly until the tops of his thighs are pressed against your ass, fingers holding so tight you think he’s going to spear right into bone. “Stay still or you’re gonna knee Buck in the cheek.”

You twist your head around, instead, shaking your chin free from his hand, hoping that once he sees your pitiful expression, he’ll find it in his heart to maybe not pound you into oblivion with bells on.

Of course, Steve’s not looking anywhere but down the line of your back and further to where he’s opening you up, bottom lip tucked into his teeth.

You constantly rib him about how he’s making up for all the years he spent with the two working eyes of a mole so now he’ll break his neck to watch. Bucky’s confirmed it multiple times to Steve’s chagrin, cackling at the way Steve goes purple defending himself. You love the stories they tell and retell; you try to spend most your time making up for all those years you weren’t there to find out.

Who isn’t in this relationship? Violently horny like teenagers, the three of you, spending every idle hour mishandling for each other like it’s the first time. Excitement primeval like animals in heat, apparently instinctual enough for one of you to do it in his sleep. Years and years and it still feels brand new.

The bed’s rocking surprisingly moderately for Steve’s usual pace, and it’s a bit heartwarming to know that he’s doing it because he really doesn’t want to wake Bucky, but he ramps up his game. He starts whispering again, meaner, hotter, the damn mouth on Steve Rogers continuing to give you hell this early morning.

He pinches your nipple hard, letting you gasp at the brief sting before he goes back up to your chin, your mouth, and then he puts the entire hand over it.

“Quiet. Not another fucking word out of you. Gotta teach you how to behave this morning, don’t I?” He’s working himself up, working you over, even pulling you back on him by the hips and then wiggling you up and down on him like he’s adjusting you on a saddle. Motherfucker.

Your toes curl, knees grinding, legs folding up to get simultaneously closer and away from him and it feels—it feels so excruciatingly good—the effortless glide of his cock, the burn of friction dragging itself out the more you wriggle. Whatever indelicate sounds falling out of your mouth are getting mashed back in, Steve ramming himself into your body, shaking your brain further loose.

He’s probably louder than he intends to be—you know how he gets when he’s close— bombs could be dropping two feet away and Steve Rogers would hear nothing but the roar of his own wanting, chasing it until he crashes into bits. You’re chasing too, both hands clamped around his wrist, arching your back to near breaking.

“Yeah,” he rasps out, “That’s it, that’s good, baby. Ugnn—back up on me, stay—right there.”

More uneven jerking, he releases your face and starts rubbing your clit, saying, you like it like this? Like me givin’ it to you good like this? And you’re shaking in his arms, the both of you tipping over the edge.

-

“I wasn’t serious,” Steve says later after a few moments, lips all soft and gentle on your neck, rather than fierce like before, “Bout you bein’—” you can feel him shrugging, “Y’know… fucked loose.” He whispers the last part like it’s a sin.

You snort, “You turning decent on me? After railing me to death?”

“You sound pretty lively to me.” He pokes your side, “I just… woke up and remembered how much I missed you last night.”

“I’m not going anywhere. You’ve got both of us here—shit!”

“Steeeeeve,” and the sound of it slaps both you back to reality. Sleep-smashed, more tipsy than any alcohol could make him, Bucky’s giggles break the steady pattern of muffled conversation. His vibranium hand pats around for a new destination, undeterred by the disruption of his previous mission.

You can’t believe it. He’s still asleep.

“Steeeevie,” Bucky mewls again, “Lemme— lemme suck your dick, sweetheart.”

What a menace. Your shoulders start quivering as you poorly hold it back, pfffftppblffpt’s kickstarting Steve into a tizzy right alongside you.

Bursting laughter finally wakes him up. Bucky yelps once, twice, flailing like a cat caught unawares and rolls himself right off the goddamn bed.

Two hundred pounds of newly conscious pervert wallops the hardwood floor and you’re sure the entire apartment complex—if they didn’t hear the ruckus last night—certainly heard it this morning.

[angelicspaceprince]

NSFW Alphabet Heisenberg Headcanons

For obvious reasons, this contains smut and is for 18+ only readers. Again, I’m posting only my headcanons onto tumblr, both can be found on my AO3

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Very grabby, has a tendency to be a little softer. Loves a good cuddle after sex, definitely praises you constantly. He loves to wash you down with a cloth, wiping away all of the cum, the sweat, the blood, the tears, as he murmurs soft words of praise and encouragement, pressing a small kiss here and there as he does so.

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

I’m not entirely sure if Heisenberg would like any part of his body - it's just a vessel to him I believe. I think his favourite part of himself would be his discount magneto powers because that gives him the ability to create so many new tools to play with when it comes to having sex with you, some even on the spot.

For you, he loves your hands. He sees them as soft and gentle and he loves the feel of them in his work-worn, rough hands as he pushes you down into the bed, or them cupping his face as you pepper his face with kisses, telling him what a good boy he’s being for you, or when their wrapped around his dick as you jerk him off in a way that has him melting against your back and rolling his hips up into your palm.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

He loves cumming inside or on you, there is no way in hell he’d ever wear a condom. It’s a marking thing, he needs to make sure you know that you’re his. He doesn’t have a preference for where he cums, just as long as it’s somewhere on you. If you spit and not swallow, he thinks it’s a waste of his seed and gets huffy about it - he’d much rather see it across your face than down the sink.

He cums a lot and it’s ungodly thick as well.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He’s fucked a lycan, been fucked by a lycan, and he fucking loved it. Was tempted to fuck a soldat but that was a little too much for him.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing? )

I’d say pretty experience, if anything, he fucks the girls at the village mostly to spite and in an attempt piss off Miranda. He’d mellowed out about a decade before you met him, but definitely he’s had the time to gain quite a lot of experience.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

Lotus, or any position where you’re on top of him. He enjoys grinding up into you and watching you come undone on top of him, but also means it's easier for him to grab at different parts of you - this goes for eating out too, he loves it when you sit on his face and ride him to completion. Loves mating press too, when he’s feeling particularly primal.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

By ‘goofy’ for H, I more think of sadomasochism or teasing you when you cum so hard you can’t see straight. I think he’d crack a few jokes here and there to make you laugh and you’d definitely have fun but for the most part, I think he’s more all about getting you riled up until you’re a trembling, begging mess.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

He is a hairy, hairy man who doesn’t give a shit about his grooming - he would have a thick and large amount of pubes that are wiry just like his beard. If you asked, he’d probably tame it down a little, but if you don’t care, it wouldn’t even cross his mind.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

Only after leaving the village will he 100% let his guard down to be intimate during sex I think. There would be a lot of praise and stuff whilst you’re at the village, but it doesn’t really become too intimate until after everything has washed over. I fully believe the first time he says ‘I love you’ was in German and whilst you two were having possibly the most intimate round of sex you’d ever had in your life the first night after your escape from the village. After sex is usually where he’s the most intimate - where he will murmur softly against your skin about how good you are to him and how he adores you and can’t believe that you’re in his life.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

I feel like he’d jack off quite frequently before you were around and even then, it probably doesn’t change much once you’re there. If he has no time for sex with you and it’s literally just an urge to deal with so he can concentrate on his work? Then yeah, he’ll pull out his dick and stroke himself off as he continues to work without a care in the world. It’s just to clear his mind so he can focus on the task at hand, to him it's no different than eating or sleeping. Just something he has to do to get by.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

It’d be a lot easier to list the kinks he doesn’t have - shit, vomit and death. Beyond that, anything else is on the tables. His favourites would definitely include pred/prey, bondage, overstim, bloodplay, watersports, knife play, choking, cumplay/breeding kink, cockwarming, exhibitionism/voyeurism and marking/biting. He does have a preference for an active and willing partner, that being said CNC is also something he would enjoy as long as it was clear that both parties wanted it prior to the scene being played out.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

Loves fucking at his desk - cockwarming especially. Loves cockwarming during inappropriate times too, like during family meetings. Or fucking you at Lady D’s house, edging you on and reminding you not to make a sound whilst making it impossible for you not to moan or scream his name. Anywhere and everywhere is an option for Heisenberg, but the riskier it is, the more he seems to love it.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Literally, anything and everything. A breeze hitting him the right way will get him horny. You could be walking past in sweatpants and a baggy jumper and he will want you bent over the bench with his dick railing into you. It doesn’t take much, the man ain’t fussy.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Killing someone during sex would be a big turn off. Involving any talk of Miranda or Lady D would also be off limits.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

Doesn’t really have a preference. Is a master at getting you off with his mouth and will gladly spend hours dedicated to mapping you out and causing you to cum again and again with his just tongue. By the time he’s finished with you, you won’t be able to walk and you definitely will have a number of bruises and bite marks against your thighs as well as a pretty decent beard burn going on. His favourite thing to do once he’s pulled away is to put his cold hands against your thighs specifically where his beard burn is, just to feel you squirm and attempt to kick him away.

Receiving - he loves throat fucking you, or having you kneel under his workbench, tied up nice and tight, with his dick resting heavy on your tongue as he works, occasionally reaching down to stroke your hair, scratch at your scalp or fucking his hips up into you so you don’t get too cozy down there. Your jaw and throat always aches afterwards and he loves hearing how hoarse he’s made your voice - he will always have a drink waiting for you afterwards, but first he needs to hear how well he’s fucked your voice out.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

It’ll depend on the mood - definitely after leaving the village there is more of an opportunity for Heisenberg to reach a more romantic, slow and sensual pace (although it definitely happened whilst in the village, it was just rare as often Heisenberg used sex as a stress release as well as a way to feel like he’s achieved something or made someone proud), but his more natural pace will always be fast, deep and on the rougher side.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Good way to scratch an itch and was, for a good portion at the beginning of your relationship, the only way you’d have sex as the only reason you were having sex was to scratch an itch or for stress relief. As time went on, things changed and although ‘proper’ sex and longer sessions became the norm (especially because he loved to dedicate the time to map out every inch of your body and see exactly what makes you tick), he still loves a good quickie during the day.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

He will try anything once, after all it’s how you figure out if you like something or not! In terms of risks, if it's a risk of getting caught, he is more than happy to take it. If it's a risk to your safety? Not on his life.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

It doesn’t take long for Heisenberg to recover - unless you’re having a quickie, you best be ready for multiple rounds. Even if he can’t get it up, he will plaster his mouth between your thighs until your voice is hoarse and you’re squirming and weakly tugging at his hair in a vain attempt to pull him away. He loves feeling your strength pull away with each orgasm, seeing how weak and tired you become because of him. He’d never go too fair without prior warning, and if you safe-word out he will pull away instantly and be straight into aftercare mode. As for how long he lasts…..it really does depend on the situation, but if you have enough time and are in an environment where he feels safe, who knows how long he’d last. You have sat in his lap, cock buried deep inside of you for the entirety of many a family meeting, having to hide the fact that he was hard and throbbing inside of you. So, you know for a fact, he can last that long under stressful situations.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

He’d make his own and have a little collection. He’d definitely think of something whilst working on his metal army, make it and instantly turn to find you to test them out. If it’s something a bit more intense, he’ll test it on himself first before seeking you out.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He loves to tease you and keep you on edge of your first orgasm, making it out that he’s close to making you scream only to pull back and watch you pout, beg or even scream in frustration. His favourite place to tease you, though, is in a place where you can’t protest or beg, where you need to be silent or keep whatever you’re doing a secret. That’s definitely when the worst of his teasing will come out.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

It will depend on the situation (see wild card for submissive!H), but usually? He wants to drink in the sounds he has you make - he’s all short grunt and growls and soft murmurs of praise against your skin and dark promises that merge seamlessly with general dirty talk with small groans and moans peppered throughout. If he’s had an awful day, however? He’s much louder, much more aggressive. He needs to fuck his emotions out - and this is definately when his pred/prey kink comes into full swing. He will chase you throughout the village, throughout his factory, wherever he can, and is nothing but growls and snarls, every sound coming from his throat animalistic. He also bites a lot more too, claiming you as his, and it’s the only time that his sounds are muffled slightly.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

If you get him worked up enough if you get the chance to dom him (he will sub for a selected few), he will always end up babbling out his begs in German. If you ask nice enough, he may order you around in German or Romanian, but the only time it naturally comes out is when he’s so far gone into subspace, so needy and desperate, that it’s just natural for him to speak his first language. In general, if you get him to sub for you, he will not shut the fuck up - all moans and whimpers and broken groans, small promises to be good for you if you would just touch him already . Bratty sub for sure, definitely into pet play. Will only ever be able to handle a gentle dom for obvious reasons, and has a major, major, major praise kink, both giving and receiving but get this boy into subspace and praise him and just watch him whine and squirm and ask for more. If he’s misbehaving at home and you jokingly say ‘behave pup’, he will get flustered so quickly.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

Body wise, he is quite muscular but has a nice layer of fat to soften things out - it actually surprises you how strong he is from brute strength alone because he definitely doesn’t look it at first glance.

Cock wise - he’s more thick than he is long, average length but with a good amount of girth that has you feeling that stretch for hours afterwards.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

I’d say pretty high, but he is also good at distracting himself from it? During his tenure at the village, he’s so focused on escaping that it looks like his sex drive is low to normal. But the moment you get out of the village? Have your own place where it’s safe and no one is there to stop you? All bets are off, he cannot keep his hands off of you. Half of it is catching up for lost time, half of it is just the fact that the man is permanently horny.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

When domming: He doesn’t fall asleep often, but he will doze or rest his eyes for a second and enjoy the afterglow. He won’t leave to go back to work until you’ve fully conked out though, unless something desperately pressing comes up and he has to go. He’d rather spend this small amount of quality time with you and making sure you’re okay before leaving you alone and even when he does leave when you’re asleep, he has his eyes on his monitor with a live feed of you sleeping, just in case something goes wrong and you need him.

After subbing: He usually passes out pretty quickly. Subbing takes a lot more energy out of him than domming does, so once he’s cleaned up and has received his dose of praise and love, he usually falls asleep with his head in your lap, on your tummy or on your chest. He can’t wake up alone after a sub scene, even the very idea of it freaks him out, so you better make sure you have something to do as he naps because once he’s out, he’s asleep for hours.

[writing-in-april]

Helping Hands

Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Reader

Summary: After a bad case Spencer needs help shaving after getting injured, he gets help from the least likely person to help in his life.

A/N: Day two of my 750 follower celebration is here! This was totally supposed to be a blurb and ended up being so much long lol. Thank you @imagining-in-the-margins for this idea and letting me write it! And thanks to @spencers-dria for helping me out as always! This fic wasn’t originally going to be Gender Neutral I just ended up writing it that way on accident which is cool, I want my blog to be as inclusive as possible! I’ve had someone check it over for pronoun mistakes but please let me know if you spot any! This is also my first time writing in second person for Spencer!

Warnings: 18+, Enemies to lovers, Knife kink (use of a straight razor), Dry fucking, Humiliation, ONE slight nick to the skin- there’s just a very small bit of blood

Main Masterlist Word count: 1.68k

Your friendship with Spencer was shaky at best, the truth was you two were barely able to work together without biting each other’s heads off. It’s not that you wanted to butt heads with him almost every day, but when he picked apart everything you said constantly you always felt the need to bite back.

Emily just had to put you as roommates for this case so you guys could ‘work out your issues.’ Of course the case then ended up becoming one of your longest cases all year. The tension between you and Spencer ran high throughout the entire case, the petty arguments grew in rate as the team got less and less sleep each day. The case combined with the sleeping arrangements was definitely making you feel miserable.

Unfortunately these hellish two weeks didn’t even end with a completely good outcome. We had caught the unsub, but not before one of your own had ended up injured. Spencer had been securing the perimeter around the suspect’s house when the suspect (who ended up being the unsub) attacked him. Luckily, you hadn’t been that far away from him and were able to help him apprehend the man. You may butt heads with him almost every working day, but he was still a part of your team. You would never want him to be seriously hurt or worse. His knuckles ended up getting bruised and bloodied from his unexpected scuffle with the unsub today although he insisted he was fine.

The sight you were looking at now directly contradicted his words. His fingers were shaking badly as he tried to move his straight razor along his jaw that was coated in shaving cream. When he let out a frustrated grunt when he couldn’t get the right angle you decided to try and lend a helping hand. He seemed to get even angrier when you walked into the hotel’s bathroom, this wasn’t new however, he always seemed to get more agitated when he sensed your presence.

“Let me help you.” You snapped while reaching forward to grab the razor, your movements were in stark contrast to your words, only doing that softly as to not cut the both of you.

“Why do you want to help me?” He snapped back with just as much bite in his tone and jerked his hand away so you could not reach the razor.

“Does it matter? You need help and I’m offering to help. So sit down and let me help.”  The real reason that you wanted to help didn’t have to be known by Spencer, he didn’t have to know that you felt guilty. His injuries were from no fault of your own however, you could not help a little bit of guilt pool in the bottom of your stomach. You may not like him very much, but again you did not want to see him hurt.

He finally acquiesced to your request sitting down on the edge of the tub that just had enough of a ledge so he could sit rather comfortably. You reached out and gestured towards the razor letting out a little sigh of relief when he handed it to you, glad that he was finally letting you help.

The handle of the razor was simple in design with no ornaments adorning it and it was made of a dark wood, perhaps mahogany. The simple design of the handle and blade did not mean that it was inexpensive, the weight in your hand alone was a testament of how finely made it probably was. You suspected it might have been one of the only things Spencer splurged his money on.

Soaping up his cheeks again, you then straddled his thighs so you could get as close as possible to him. He squeaked a little in surprise at your sudden willingness to be close to him. In all honesty, you didn’t really want to be that close to him, but you had promised to help him, this just was the only way you could get the correct angles.

Besides the initial squeak the fell from his lips Spencer had become strangely quiet as you got to work shaving off his stubble.

His silence was then replaced by something else, the inability to sit still. Each time you started to scrap the razor against his jaw his hips shuffled under you, making it extremely difficult to get a close enough shave.

“Stop squirming.” He of course felt the need to again not listen to you and he continued to squirm underneath you. You ran your fingers through his hair then tugging on the stands to crane his neck backwards so you could get full access to the underside of his jaw. He defiantly squirmed again, causing you to falter with the razor again, this time accidentally nicking the underside of his jaw.

Instead of hissing and pulling away from you would expect; Spencer threw you for a loop when he let out a loud moan while jutting his hips up into your own. A look of mortification came over Spencer’s face at his actions, he looked like he wanted to be anywhere else, but with your body straddling him he couldn’t quite escape your grasp so easily.

You weren’t going to lie, Spencer was an attractive man, your favorite part of his looks being his fluffy locks and the scruff he left behind after shaving. You weren’t going to pass up the opportunity of having an attractive man underneath you and begging. Experimentally you reached up with your free hand to brush up against the small nick that had only let out just a little drop of blood. Pushing down slightly on it you then rolled your hips to grind against his hardening cock in his slacks. His response to your actions pleased you, his slacks becoming more strained and another moan left his lips, this one much more high pitched.

“Are you ok with this? I won’t be gentle.”

“Yes, please do whatever you want.” You were pleasantly surprised how quickly a plea fell from his lips. It was going to be so easy to ruin him.

“Tell me if you want me to stop. You may infuriate me, but I do not want to make you uncomfortable.” He nodded quickly in understanding before tentatively moving his hands to rest on your hips lightly to make sure you were ok with his touch and so that his hands didn’t suffer from any unnecessary pain.

You were right, it was extremely easy to ruin him. It only took a few short minutes of grinding your hips into his own before you could tell he was getting a little close to his release.

“Is this all it takes for you to get off? That’s a little pathetic.” The humiliating words only made Spencer’s moans louder though at this point they had devolved into high pitched pitiful whimpers. You were glad he was keen on the idea of some light humiliation and decided to continue with some more harsh words, “I haven’t even gotten a chance to use it anywhere near any more exciting places yet. You’re so needy, Spencer.” The evil smirk that made its way onto your face at the thought of getting to use the razor in more, exhilarating places, made Spencer visibly gulp hard.

You shifted a little forward which brought more pleasure to you, enough to push you to teeter on the edge. As you felt your release begin to wash over you surged forward to mark up Spencer’s neck with a hickey to go along with the other slight mark you had left. The rocking of your hips sped up as you worked yourself through your blissful release. Spencer may have been one of the most infuriating people you knew, but you couldn’t deny that even with a few swirls of your hips together he gave you a stronger orgasm then most men ever had. After a few gasps of your breath into his neck after your release you began to focus on his own. You could just leave him hanging and force him to take a cold shower to alleviate the straining in his pants, though you couldn’t deny how good he had been for you.

“Beg me. Beg me to let you finish.” Carding your fingers through his hair once more you yanked hard so you could get to catch a glimpse of his gorgeous neck again. You brought the razor up to rest at the underside of his jaw close to the previous cut you had accidentally given him.

“Please!” Even though his begging was only one word, you were satisfied with how desperate he sounded for you. You had completely ruined him without even taking off a single article of clothing.

“Cum for me Spencer.” As soon as the words of permission fell from your lips, his hips started to meet yours with more vigor. His groans came impossibly louder as he neared his finish, so you surged forward to capture his lips with your own for the first time. Immediately you slipped your tongue into the cavern of his mouth, swallowing all of the noises that tried to escape. He rocked his hips forward once, twice, three times before feeling the front of his slacks dampen with his own release.

When you had both calmed down and slightly processed what you had both indulged in you separated from him to help clean up the nick on his jaw and to grab him a pair of sweatpants to change into. You returned to help him finish shaving making sure to leave the little bit of scruff you liked. As you finished he moved to rub slight circles into your hip, you didn’t let him do it for very long until you made sure that it wasn’t hurting his hands too much. You were both extremely content with your current position. Maybe he wasn’t as infuriating as you once thought. In any case you had enjoyed lending him your helping hands, maybe you could help him again if he was willing.

——

Tag list (message me if you want to be added):

Spencer Reid/CM taglist- @calm-and-doctor @destiny-tsukino @safertokiss

Sub!Spencer taglist- @thatsonezesty13- tags are not working for you for some reason!!

[luxwritesfanfic]

Right Where You Left Me

Reader gets déjà vu in a way she never expected. Or, the one where Sherlock is the gift that never stops giving. AU!Bucky because he always has your back. Enjoy!

Author’s Note: There is a lot of angst and multiple different aspects that could be very triggering for some within this work. Please be mindful of the trigger warning below and if you see something that you feel should be listed, message me and I will edit accordingly!

Trigger Warning: Severe depression, suicidal ideations, suicide attempt (overdose), forced vomiting, talk of death in general, angst with a happy ending

Sherlock Holmes/Reader

You couldn’t really tell how long you’d been lying in bed for. Time was such a foreign concept to you now. It was either before the fall, when you were happy and he was with you, or after the fall, where you were all alone. You weren’t alone physically because your friends would never allow for that. Since the fall, you’d been staying in Sherlock’s flat, and Mrs. Hudson would always bring you a plate of whatever she was cooking and put it in the fridge. And like clockwork, she’d come every Sunday and clean the fridge out from where you didn’t touch any of the plates. She never seemed to mind, though, and she never stopped bringing you food.  

Bucky would come by every day and check on you and help you do things around the house. And by help you, he did everything for you. Mrs. Hudson would let him stay in John’s old room whenever he needed, and he’d make sure you showered and that your laundry was done. He would tell you he does this because he loves you and that even though you weren’t born his sister, you would die that way.

John had moved on and moved out and you were happy for him. Mary was lovely, and you wished you could move on with your life, but you couldn’t. You knew he was taking it just as hard as you and that you both just had different ways of coping with the pain.  

When you had to quit your job, Mycroft was immediately there and offered to take care of you financially. “Please, allow me to do this for you. It’s what my brother would have wanted. He couldn’t stand me when he was ali—here, so the least I can do is make him happy where he is now,” he said quietly. Pigs must’ve been flying in the window behind you because when you reached to hug Mycroft, he met you halfway. You cried nonstop for days after that.

You had tried to be better after the scare, not for you, but for your family. You don’t remember much from it, but you do know that no one brings it up around you and you haven’t been left alone for longer than a few hours since.

You woke up with your face propped up against something cool, but you could barely open your eyes to see where you were. Your stomach was in the most pain it had ever been in and everything around you sounded so far away. You remember being yanked back and fingers were shoved down your throat and someone, Bucky, was standing over you and holding you up saying through tears, “I know it hurts and I’m sorry, but you have to throw it up, Y/N. You have to. I can’t lose you, too.”  

Everything hurt and in between gags you could hear Mrs. Hudson crying and begging whoever was on the phone to get there faster. You had never heard anyone scream like that and you were sorry you were the one who caused it.

Even though you’d promised Sherlock he would never lose you, Fate stepped in and you lost him. When you thought about the turn your life had taken, you just told everyone you were keeping your end of the deal.  

Bucky knocked on your door and stuck his head in. “Mornin’, Y/N. I’m gonna start some laundry and make us some coffee and then I’ll be back, okay?” You could tell he was worried by the tone of his voice, but he did a good job of hiding it. You didn’t say anything back to it and he didn’t expect you to.  

Bucky came in a little later with some towels in his hand and a coffee in the other. “I know you’re not feeling real good today, so I was thinking I could wash your hair for you? You can just bend over the tub and I’ll do all the work. I’ve even been watching some videos on how to braid and then you won’t have to worry it matting up either.” He set the coffee down on the nightstand and sat on the edge of the bed next to you.  

By this point you were already crying into the pillow because how could the people in your life love you this much when you had nothing to offer them anymore?

“I love you so much,” you cried, and Bucky’s heart broke at the sound, “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry and I love you.”

He brushed the hair away from your face. His hands were warm, and it made you feel human again. “You don’t have to be sorry. I love you and I will take care of you for however long you need me to. God knows you would-- and have, done the same for me. So, let me wash your hair for you and I can tell you all about how Lestrade constantly shits on Anderson now as an eternal tribute.”  

You smiled and although it wasn’t full of life, he was just as happy to see it. You ended up just getting a shower and Bucky rushed next door to get you a sandwich in hopes that you’d eat for him, too.  

As you were brushing your hair out, you heard multiple voices. You heard Bucky, and he sounded… shocked? And then there was John and then just as you were about to reach for the door you heard it. You would know that baritone voice anywhere. Barging out of the bathroom and almost tripping over your own two feet, you came to a full stop.

“Sherlock?”  

There he stood in the middle of the room with John a few feet behind him, and Bucky with his back to you, seemingly always ready to protect you. It looked like him and it sounded like him, and hell, it even smelled like him. You couldn’t believe it.

“Y/N.” He went to make a step towards you but seemed to have think better of it. It was better if he assessed your reaction to seeing him first. It had been so long since he had last seen you and while he silently fought the raw want he had to hold you, he knew you were seeing red.

“I don’t even—I can’t-- can’t even comprehend this. Where do I start? Where the fuck have you been? You were dead, Sherlock! I watched you…” You squeezed your eyes shut, steeling yourself the best you could. You weren’t going to cry. You had too much to say. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw John and Bucky slip through the front door. You were sure that was their best bet.

Sherlock said nothing as you went off because there was really nothing for him to say. He understood why you were so mad with him, even if he wasn’t generally self-aware when it came to his own feelings, he wasn’t that daft. He had come prepared for this and he was going to make it right.

“No, you know what? Don’t say anything. I don’t even want to hear it. I have been fucking rotting in this flat while everyone else was able to move on with their lives. I was here, because I couldn’t live without you. My world stopped. I do nothing, Sherlock, nothing but sit and lay in your bed and cry into your old shirts!” You were yelling now, hands running through your hair as you tried to make sense of it all. Somewhere in the back of your mind you made a mental note to thank Bucky for making you get up and shower this morning.

“I quit my job, Sherlock. Mycroft has been paying to keep me alive and Mrs. Hudson and Bucky take turns to make sure I’m still breathing every other hour because they’re scared that if I’m left alone for too long, I won’t be. And poor John, I see him and start fucking bawling because then all I see is you. I stopped caring about everything, and everyone else, because the only person I cared about looked me in the eyes and walked off a fucking building!”

Sherlock opened his mouth to say something, but you quickly cut him off.  

“Seriously, don’t speak. You don’t get to just waltz in with John after all this time—you know what? There’s the million-dollar question. Was I the only one who didn’t know you were alive? Because so help me God, Sherlock, I’m this close to losing it.”

He didn’t know whether or not he should actually speak, but he took the cue after he started to physically feel the heat from the deathly glare you were giving him. You quite literally looked deranged but that didn’t stop him from taking a step towards you. He always seemed to chase danger, and you were no exception.

“No… you weren’t the only one. John only just found out a few weeks ago, and only a few select people knew the whole time.” Sherlock was careful with his words. He knew he was walking on thin ice.

You didn’t say anything to that, and Sherlock found that even scarier than when you were yelling.

“Hah, select people, huh? I like that one. So, where were you staying? Were you in London this whole time? Shit, you could’ve been downstairs for all I know. I guess I wouldn’t be a select person to know that, though, would I?”

Sherlock grimaced. Things were going worse than he imagined, and he already figured it would be pretty bad. That was an understatement. “I had to jump around often for everyone’s safety, but I stayed in London for the most part. I stayed with Molly when I could.”

You laughed in his face at that, and you clamped your hand over your mouth, turning your back on him lest you start laughing again. He watched you with furrowed brows and you knew he wanted to speak but you couldn’t do it right now.  You took a few steps towards the kitchen window and looked out at the bustling London streets beneath you. For months your world stopped, and it seemed so real when in reality nothing stopped at all.  

“Great, great. That’s so great. Splendid, really.” You murmured to yourself and perched your free hand on your hip. Drumming your fingers against your lips, you began again.  

“Bucky had to glue the windows down because he thought I was going to jump, and you were staying with Molly.” The tone of your voice was venomous and if looks could kill, Sherlock Holmes would be dead for real this time.

Sherlock winced. “Y/N, please, let me—” You cut him off, speaking louder this time. Your face was void of emotion, but your eyes betrayed you as the tears started to fall freely and your voice cracked under the weight of everything that was being said.

“Bucky had to glue the windows down because I thought I was going to jump, and you were staying with Molly! Damn you, Sherlock Holmes! I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!” You grasped at the kitchen counter to steady yourself as you gasped for air between the sobs that you couldn’t contain anymore. Your heart ached so badly that you actually clutched your chest, afraid that it was going to break through your ribcage and abandon ship. You could barely register Sherlock coming up behind you through your tears and as he willed you to face him, you noticed that his eyes were brimmed red and glossy. Even sad, Sherlock looked as beautiful as a doll.

“I always come when you call, why didn’t you come for me?” You cried, fisting your hands in his shirt so tightly that you thought heard buttons pop. Your head was swimming and you had never felt more betrayed in your life. How could Sherlock turn to anyone but you? Had you not made it clear that you would do anything for him?  

“I called for you every single night, Sherlock! Begged for you, mourned you, I—” The tears wouldn’t stop flowing and your voice was starting to crack from its sudden and harsh overuse.

It was then that Sherlock wedged himself so close to you that you didn’t even have the space to move your head and look up at him. A pair of strong arms wrapped around your back and you were being squeezed so hard to him that you thought you’d either die from a heart attack or suffocation. And even now at the hands of Sherlock, neither seemed that bad. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He whispered against your forehead again and again as if he was repeating a chant he had been practicing for some time.

“I love you so much and you didn’t even call! Why didn’t you call?” Your words were lost to the both of you now, spoken into his shirt and distorted by your sobs. Sherlock held you as you cried and tried to contain your shaking body against his as you let out months of sadness and pain and despair. You were so overwhelmed that you couldn’t think straight.  

“I know, I know you do, and that’s why I couldn’t call. I couldn’t call for you.” He held onto you as he spoke like you would disappear. Sherlock had decided before he even stepped foot into the flat that he would not lose you again. In his time away from you, he was subjected to feelings he could only describe as both love and heartbreak in equal measure. Being apart from you had left him feeling a void that nothing could fill, but it was his love for you that he relied on to keep you safe and away from him.  

Sherlock pulled back from you and while it was only by a few inches, you suddenly felt worlds away. You go to pull him back to you when he gathers your hands in his and leaves a trail of ghostly kisses along the spread of your knuckles.  

“I have never begged for mercy in my life…” He murmurs, eyes never leaving yours. He was determined; that much you could tell. Your eyes widened as he lowered himself to one knee, and then two. “Until now. I have hurt you in ways that are beyond comprehensible. Please, grant me the mercy I do not deserve to explain myself. I am willing to bare myself before you if you’ll have me.”

You were in shock at the sight of Sherlock on his knees before you. You had heard him apologize maybe twice in your time of knowing him and here he was, begging for you to hear him out. All you could do is nod.

You expected him to stand up again, but he sat in place and looked up at you with so much love in his eyes that felt all the anger you were harboring dissipate under his gaze. He took a deep breath and prepared himself. If you were ever going to forgive him, he knew that he would have to be honest. And he knew that if he was going to be honest, he would have to admit the feelings he had for you and hope that he could express them in a way that you could understand.

“There were constantly people watching you, and John, and pretty much everyone else who held any value in my life,” he explained, rubbing his thumbs over your fingers as he spoke absentmindedly, “they knew you would be suffering, they counted on that. And if you weren’t, they’d know something was going on. Your suffering had to be real, or else it wouldn’t have been believable. I didn’t want to keep you in the dark. But I had no choice. When I faked my death, I had some help. I stayed with Molly here and there because she already knew, and my relationship with her is is…different for ours.” He paused.  

You were hanging on every word he said. You could tell he was being sincere, and even though you were upset, you understood. If leaving Sherlock meant protecting him, you would do it too.  

He cleared his throat and started again. “Molly was a safer option. They would have expected less of a reaction from her. And if things were to go wrong…” Trailing off, Sherlock squeezed your hands. You knew what he was trying to say, and you didn’t dare breathe. “You were not someone I could lose. It couldn’t have been you. So yes, I stayed with Molly, but I worked constantly to make it so that I could come home to you.”

You couldn’t take it anymore. “Sherlock,” you whimpered, pulling him to his feet by his collar and back to you where he belonged. He followed suit quickly like he was reading your mind.  

For what seemed like the first time today, you were truly taking him in. He was just as beautiful as he was the day he left you. You reached up to brush away a stray curl from his eyes and smiled at the way he seemed to try and follow your touch.  

There were so many things that you couldn’t be sure of, but this is something you’d always know to be true. You loved Sherlock, terribly, terribly, so. If loving him was the only purpose you ever found in this lifetime, you would be sure not to fail him.

You were lost in other when the sound of footsteps climbing up the stairs drew your attention. Sherlock followed your gaze as you watched John enter the flat from the living room.

“Is everyone okay up here? There was a lot of yelling and then it got pretty quiet…” As he rounded the corner to the kitchen, he stopped in his tracks at the sight of you braced against the counter with a small amount of space between you and Sherlock that he must’ve recently graced you with because you could barely move before. His hands rested on your hips and your hands had found solace on his shoulders. John looked like a deer caught in headlights before he covered his eyes with his hands and made to walk back out, determined not to ruin the moment that all of London was waiting on.

“Fuck, I’m sorry! Don’t mind me, pretend I was never here!” He called out as he dashed back down the stairs so quickly you thought he had fallen and you were sure you heard him say to someone, “I told you so!”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the whole situation and when you looked back at Sherlock, you realized he was already looking at you. Even after everything today, you still caught yourself feeling nervous under his heavy gaze.  

“So, it’s okay when you stare but not when I do?” You teased, hoping that he couldn’t see the blush you could surely feel. Sherlock squinted his eyes at your comment as if he didn’t understand what you meant but gave you a devilish smile all the same.  

“I’m sorry.” He wasn’t. “But you are confirming that you do stare at me, right?”  

You were torn between smacking the smirk off his face or kissing it, whatever compelled you the most and right now it was a tie. Rolling your eyes, you brought your hands down to his arms and gave them a squeeze. Not even realizing you were thinking out loud, you whispered something about having déjà vu. This caught Sherlock’s attention, and he moved tiniest bit closer to you. “Déjà vu? How so?”

Cursing yourself under your breath, you laughed and dipped your head down between the two of you, laughing at how ridiculous all of this was. “Jeez, it’s been years now. I had the most realistic dream that’s stuck with me all this time.”

Sherlock tsked at you and moved to bring your head back up so that he could properly see your face. He cupped your cheeks and in the most familiar way and just like in the dream, you were breathless.  

“Go on,” he urged, voice like velvet, “tell me what happened in your dream.”

You all but melted under his gaze. Sherlock, in any form, would always have this effect on you it seemed. His thumb brushed along your lower lip as his own parted. Physically he was with you, but mentally he was far away committing this memory to only a place he could see.

“Use your words. I’m paying raft attention, aren’t I?” Once again you thanked Mrs. Hudson and her choice in countertops because if it was any less sturdy you were sure you would collapse and bring him down with you. On second thought—

Any coherent thought was lost to you when Sherlock nosed your cheek, and you couldn’t help the gasp that left your lips or the words after.

“I told you I loved you, Sherlock. That’s what happened in the dream.” Your words were spoken so quickly in the effort to chase after his lips but he held you still, waiting and wanting in front of him.  

You whined like a child. None of anything that happened today was fair to you, but one kiss and you would forgive all of London for keeping your detective’s secret.

“Well, I guess the only proper response to that is for me to tell you that I’ve loved you for ages, my dear girl.” He smiled against your skin and you thought that this was it. You had officially lost your last marble, and this was the delirium finally setting in. You welcomed the insanity happily.

“Say it again, please. I need to hear you say it again.” You begged, everything hitting you at all at once.

“I love you,” he murmured, his eyes never leaving yours. “I love you, and it’s only ever been you. It couldn’t be anyone else but you. You…didn’t you know that?” His eyebrows rose up and you stopped him in his tracks. That was Sherlock for “are you dumb?”

It was then that you decided you were done with talking before he had the chance to say anything smart. You pulled him down to you so quickly that you missed the shock that flashed in his eyes when your lips finally met. After years of yearning and pining for the man in front of you, you finally had him right where you wanted him. There were so many things you wanted to say to him, but no words would express how you truly felt about him and lucky for you, Sherlock was more of a hands-on learner.  

When you finally broke apart, you got to admire the man of your every hour in all his glory. The mussed hair and kiss swollen lips really added to his already suave look and you couldn’t help but smile like an idiot. “You’re handsome. So handsome, seriously, it should really be a crime. I can finally tell you that without any shame.”

He returned your smile tenfold, and you thought if you could make his eyes crinkle like that just one more time in your life that it would be a life well lived. He acted as if he was mulling your statement over, rolling his bottom lip between teeth. “You could’ve mentioned it before. It might’ve helped me make my deductions much sooner.”

You slapped him on the shoulder but then worked on smoothing his shirt out while he watched you with a gentle fondness that he reserved just for you. You still had so many questions that you wanted answered but you knew those could wait. Something had been generous enough to answer your most asked prayer and you weren’t about to be ungrateful for even a second.  

Placing one last (for now) kiss on his cheek, you led him to the door to the flat and swung it open. “Hey, has Mrs. Hudson seen you—”

As if on perfect cue, Mrs. Hudson shrieks so loudly that any bad memory you have of her yelling is now a good one.

“Sherlock!”

[sakurology]

queen, how about a kenma nsfw alphabet if you haven’t 👀

Haha- hah- yeah 😌 yeah let’s do that....

NSFW Alphabet: Kozume Kenma

Gn!Reader like always

Nsfw below the cut, you should know this drill by now... 😘

𝕬 - 𝕬𝖋𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖈𝖆𝖗𝖊

He needs it just as much as you do. He has a tendency to drop afterwards, so he finds it comforting to spend time coming down from it all with you. Lots of cuddling and definitely food and knocking out together, both making sure to constantly reassure each other.

𝕭 - 𝕭𝖔𝖉𝖞 𝕻𝖆𝖗𝖙

Does- does hair count as a body part? You know what fuck it its my blog I make the rules. He’s into hair pulling, both doing the pulling and having his pulled. He’ll give it a rough tug when he's behind you, but also expects you to take hold of his hair from time to time as well- with a very tight grip.

𝕮 - 𝕮𝖚𝖒

Facials. That’s really it. It’s facials. He isn’t a fan of super messy, but he always makes an exception when it comes to painting your pretty face. It;s a reminder that you belong to him so intimately in this sense.

𝕯 - 𝕯𝖎𝖗𝖙𝖞 𝕾𝖊𝖈𝖗𝖊𝖙

Kenma doesn’t only spend his money on video games. He actually has spent a significant amount of money on a very lavish collection of lingerie and little costumes for you to wear around the house. He’s always buying new pieces and adding them to your playroom- oh yeah... you have a playroom.

𝕰 - 𝕰𝖝𝖕𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖓𝖈𝖊

I feel like Kenma’s experience comes solely from porn and stories Kuroo has told him that he never wanted to hear in the first place. But- that is a good enough teacher. He knows enough of what he’s doing to get you there, and prefers the challenge of trying various things on you until he realizes what really works to get you there fastest- like a game.

𝕱 - 𝕱𝖆𝖛𝖔𝖗𝖎𝖙𝖊 𝕻𝖔𝖘𝖎𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓

8/10 times he’s going to want you on top. It doesn’t matter how. He likes you on top because of the pressure your weight provides. Since he’s so little he likes to feel surrounded.

He also loves to fuck your face. The sight of your face getting lost in his pubes while you gag and get all teary-eyed as you struggle to meet his gaze drives him insane.

𝕲 - 𝕲𝖔𝖔𝖋𝖞

He’s not really the type to make jokes or anything in the moment. He’s focused on making sure you feel good and nothing else.

𝕳 - 𝕳𝖆𝖎𝖗

I’m so sorry- but like…. no lol. It’s almost a jungle. It’s not that he doesn’t care but he can’t be bothered. If you ask him he’ll definitely clean up, but you have to ask him or it’s just gonna stay that way.

𝕴 - 𝕴𝖓𝖙𝖎𝖒𝖆𝖈𝖞

Likes cockwarming for the closeness. You two can be laying in bed or chilling on the couch and he’ll just slip in, rutting into you every once in a while but mostly staying still and enjoying your warmth and tightness. You both enjoy it when you’re to tired to have sex, but still want to feel something

𝕵 - ��𝖆𝖈𝖐 𝕺𝖋𝖋

He doesn’t like to do it himself, but instead opts for you to do so sometimes while he streams. You mostly do so because you want to though, he’s pretty indifferent. It’s just not really his thing. When he feels like he just has to- he’s 100% a pillow humper.

𝕶 - 𝕶𝖎𝖓𝖐

Roleplay: Anything that’s an escape from his normal he enjoys, and that also comes with your sex life too.

Breath Play: Kenma is 300% into breath play, and no I will not explain it he just is and I won’t take criticism. He holds his breath when he feels you start to get close- he doesn’t allow himself to breathe until you cum all over him- he’d rather let his lungs completely burn out before he leaves you unsatisfied. He holds his breath when he cums too, it intensifies his high.

Edging: that being said, you also have to work for it. If he's in a more domming mood, he’ll bring you to the brink and rip it away for hours… sometimes even days. If he’s being really mean, he’ll fuck you until you’re practically sobbing, but he won’t let you cum. He’ll cum and just leave you there, and don’t you dare touch yourself or you’ll just add to your punishment later

Voyeurism: you love letting him listen to/ watch you shower. He thinks you don’t know he’s there, but you can faintly hear the way his breath shudders over the water hitting the tiled walls. You can only imagine what he’s thinking of doing to you, and it turns you both on.

𝕷 - 𝕷𝖔𝖈𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓

If you think he’s going to do it anywhere but a space with a bed/something to sleep on after- you’re wrong. Sadly this limits you to the confines of your home or the occasional hotel. The baby just exhausts himself too easily and needs to recharge after you’re done.

𝕸 - 𝕸𝖔𝖙𝖎𝖛𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓

He’s encouraged by you begging for him. Every time you moan out his name- every time you plead for him to let you cum- it makes him feel powerful. He’s not just a subby baby! He gets off on the power dynamic between you. He knows how apathetic he comes off at times and he uses that to his advantage- loving nothing more than for you to beg for him to touch you. He likes to ignore you on purpose to build up the tension.

𝕹 - 𝕹𝖔!

Ken loves to watch, but that’s it. That being said, he doesn’t like being watched. So he’s not much of an exhibitionist. You’re the only real exception to the rule.

𝕺 - 𝕺𝖗𝖆𝖑

He never lasts long when you do go down on him, so he prefers to wait it out until he’s close, or he’ll let you suck him off when he really needs to cum. He loves it but he can’t control himself, so he doesn’t ask super often, but he does like an occasional morning surprise bj- it’s made him a morning person

𝕻 - 𝕻𝖆𝖈𝖊

If he’s fucking you- its so slow its painful at first. Since he wants you to beg, he’ll coax it out of you slowly, building you up until you’re a hot mess, but he never goes faster until the last second. If he’s the one getting fucked, he’s all about you being even and setting a good pace for him. He prefers it when you start slow and gradually get faster, slowing down again once he gets close, and milking it out of him.

𝕼 - 𝕼𝖚𝖎𝖈𝖐𝖎𝖊

Absolutely not. He wants to be able to take his time. Like any gamer, he’s not going to be satisfied until he gets a perfect score. So that means he needs time. Its the same thing when you take control. He wants you to take your time exploring him, he wants you to take the time and care to make him fall apart slowly and meticulously. If you’re particularly needy, he’ll give in to hold you over- but expect it to be lazy and sloppy, and a bit unsatisfying. He’s going to leave you wanting more.

𝕽 - 𝕽𝖎𝖘𝖐

Again, not much to see here. He’s not vanilla in the slightest, but he knows what he likes, and he knows what works. Instead of trying a bunch of new things, he prefers to try different combinations of his tried-and-trues, with a sprinkle of something else here or there- that’s how he keeps you on your toes.

𝕾 - 𝕾𝖙𝖆𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖆

Prefers quality over quantity, so most of the time his rounds are one and done. But that one and done can last hours- he has a lot of control over himself and will hold off until he’s sure you’re spent. He’ll give in to a few more rounds of you ask him nicely- he can’t resist when you bat your pretty eyes his way… but he’ll probably get you off with toys or his hands instead.

𝕿 - 𝕿𝖔𝖞

Likes to use toys on you, especially when he’s tired or feeling particularly lazy that day. He likes the fact that you can still get off by his hand without him having to do much. He will use it to his advantage though, which means you need to be prepared to be edged for awhile most days...

𝖀 - 𝖀𝖓𝖋𝖆𝖎𝖗

He’s VERY easy to tease. Gets flustered by the smallest actions, no matter how innocent they are. Can’t really control his boners so you have to be careful with him. He hates being teased but lives to tease you.

𝖁 - 𝖁𝖔𝖑𝖚𝖒𝖊

Very breathy, very shaky. He’s not necessarily super quiet, but there’s a lot of deep breathing and exhaling as opposed to outright moans. When he does actually moan it’s so delicate and pretty. He does talk to you as well, he tells you how pretty you look in your lace, and how much he likes pretty things like you.

𝖂 - 𝖂𝖎𝖑𝖉𝖈𝖆𝖗𝖉

His favorite post fuck meal is mac n cheese. Kuroo fed it to him in celebration when Kenma lost his virginity and he has now been essentially pavloved to associate sex with the Kraft blue box.

𝖃 - 𝖃-𝕽𝖆𝖞

It's not like, pretty- it's cute- Under the mess of hair anyway. Very uwu cute. He’s not a shower but he has maybe 5-6 when he’s ready to go. It's pink all around and chubby. Honestly it looks like those adorable little smiling mushroom plushies- you know the ones.

𝖄 - 𝖄𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌

His sex drive isn’t low, but instead its moderate. You’re a lot more needy than he is, so you tend to always be the one initiating- but he’ll also never be shy about asking you when he wants you.

𝖅 - 𝖅𝖟𝖟

He’s out before he even hits the pillow most times. He loves to fall asleep in your arms, resting his head on your chest to time his own breaths with your heartbeat. The only drawback of how cute this sight is is that kenma snores like a 70-year old man in dangerous need of a cpap.

Taglist Starseeds (link in nav to join):  @honey-makki @acciobrooms @sen-brainrot @the-3d-sky-sister @minato-hoe @strawberrymakki @prettyforpapiiwa @dxddykeiji @arixtsukki @freyafolkvangr @ukaisgratefulwhore @tetsurolls @milanapolitana​ @notjasmin​ @velvesagi​ @keishinsuke @amanda0121gg @bluntkingkuroo @ellapurineko

If ur url is in bold- shoot me a dm ✨

[shysneeze]

good enough (draco malfoy x fem!reader)

Good Enough

Draco Malfoy x fem!Slytherin!Reader 

*based loosley on the song ‘line without a hook’ by ricky montgomery*  

Request: can I ask for Draco x reader where the reader is sassy, but also kind Slytherin (like one of the kind Slytherin)?? And Draco has a huge crush on her? Super fluffy? ~ @lennylangdraws 

Warnings: low self-esteem, angst, smidge of house stereotyping, i don’t know the meaning of fluff im so sorry 

Authors note: you asked for fluff and I have no excuses for how this turned out except this song has been stuck in my head for weeks now. I hope you like it anyway despite the angst... i tried to make it fluffy make up at the end?

Also, I’m not saying this is a prequel to vulnerable love, but it kinda fits... pretty sure it makes vulnerable love hurt more though.)

.

Draco wasn’t sure it was possible to want back what he’s never had.

He never knew being stuck in the awkward phase of being an ‘almost couple’ is something he could miss, that he’d ever long to feel the heat that would creep up his cheeks when their eyes met, to feel the nauseating butterflies flap in his stomach when she smiled at him or the jolt of nervous energy that would rip through him whenever their fingers accidentally grazed each other’s under tables or in corridors.

Yet now that those little things are beyond his grasp, he’s desperate for them again, desperate for her. It might be easier to miss her if she were gone, rather than just sitting at the other end of the Slytherin table, or across the room during classes, it would be easier not to see her, the constant reminder of what he’s allowed him self to ruin.

They weren’t supposed to get along, every conflicting personality trait dooming them to a life as enemies. Everyone knows her, the ‘nice’ Slytherin. It’s a title given to her by her classmates, the too-cocky Gryffindors who can’t see past Slytherin’s bad reputation as bullies and snobs, a bad-reputation fuelled by Draco Malfoy himself.

No one could have expected them to end up the way they did, dates in Hogsmeade or hushed conversations by the common room fire in the early hours of the morning and afternoons spent by the lake. No one could have expected them to get along so well.

Draco knows that everyone has expected this though, for them to fall apart before they’ve even had the chance to begin. It’s what they’ve expected of him all along after all, to break her heart.

He’s pretty sure he hasn’t got the right to be looking for her like this, seeking her out desperately to get her back, once again deluded into believing he ever had her in the first place. He’s the one who called it off in a moment of certainty that it was the right thing to do, a selfless act. And so it’s wrong for him to be here right now, back in their secret spot.

She’s exactly where he assumed she would be, curled beneath the tree she was always affectionately calling theirs. His entire body tenses painfully at the sight of her, face hidden in her palms and body shaking, not from the cold, but from the trembling of barely silenced sobs.

He wonders if it’s his racing heart that she can hear that alerts her to his presence and has her looking up from her hands, teary eyes meeting his in surprise. Then, she pulls her brows into a well-justified scowl and a lump forms in Draco’s throat that he can’t seem to swallow.

“What are you doing here?”

An incredibly valid question for which Draco can only provide selfish answers. It seems silly to tell her that he’s hear to win her back, and futile given her growing anger. Yet he won’t be able to live with himself if he doesn’t, miserable without her.

“I miss you.” He gulps honestly. “Truthfully, I’ve been a mess without you.”

“Merlin, Draco.” She gasps out a laugh of disbelief. “Maybe you should have thought of that before you started ignoring me. Frankly, that isn’t really my issue.”

“I know.” He sighs apologetically. “I know, I didn’t mean-“

“Just get it over with, Draco.” She rolls her eyes. “Say your piece and leave me alone.”

He nods, taking hesitant steps forward towards her, the frost coated grass crunching under foot. She avoids his eyes as he takes a seat beside her, staring determinedly at her lap and making a conscious attempt to hide the quickly accumulating tears.

“Aren’t you cold?”

She lets out a loud exasperated sigh and refuses him an answer. He agrees with the sentiment of it, regretted the stupidity of it the minute it left his lips. Still, he leans forward to pull the Slytherin scarf from his neck and twists himself to allow him to wrap it loosely around hers, fussing with it until he’s reassured that she’ll be warmer for it.

“You looked cold.”

“Tis’ the season.” She mumbles sarcastically.

Her sarcasm is another thing he’s missed from her, and it draws a momentary smile to his face. Then, the moment is over, and his eyes have fixed on the tear stains painting her cheeks, proof of his own fatal mistake.

“I’m so sorry, (Y/N).”

She scoffs.

“Two weeks overdue.”

“I know.” He agrees sheepishly. “I know, (Y/N).”

“Then why are you only here now?” She questions. “Why did you do it in the first place? You can’t just act like you have feelings for someone then disappear and ignore them for weeks!”

Her voice wobbles and cracks at the end, much to her own dismay, and each breath she takes is jagged in the way one’s always is when trying to conceal tears. He watches her press the balls of her palm to her eyes in frustration, letting out a small whimper that has every inch of him aching with remorse.

Part of him, a self-preserving part, tells him to lie. It’s a side of himself he’s grown to hate recently, the side that pushed him into this mess in the first place, and so he knows better than to bargain with it again. So, with a deep breath, he chooses to tell the truth, he chooses to be vulnerable.

“I’m not good enough.”

Although exhaled in a whisper the revelation is startlingly loud. Perhaps its due to the serene quiet always felt on crisp cold days like today, where the sun hangs low in the sky and the lake lies unimaginably still, or perhaps it’s the raw honestly in the statement that makes it seem so alarmingly bold.

She blinks at him, lips parting in surprise and brows furrowing in confusion or concern, Draco isn’t sure. He can hear his pulse in his ears, a slight trembling in his hands that he knows has nothing to do with the chilly breeze. He’s done something profound, terrifying even, and opened that vulnerably part of himself to someone, with no control over what happens to it next.

“What?” She manages.

“Everyone knows it, (Y/N).” He explains nervously. “I’m a terrible match for you.” 

“Who the hell is everyone” She frowns. “Since when did they matter?”

There is a certain protective edge to her voice that he doesn’t deserve, but it replays itself in his head over and over, clinging to it for hope. It takes him a moment to let it go again, to push it down and answer.

“They’re right.” He sighs. “You’re too good a person for me, I’m too Slytherin.”

The concern instantly leaves her eyes, she sits forward with an urgent look of disbelief and another of her signature scoffs. She’s giving him an inspective look, trying to figure out if he’s serious, or if he’s suddenly picked up a new, strange sense of humour.

“You’re kidding, right?”

He isn’t quite sure what to say and his silence fuels another disbelieving shake of her head.

“I am a Slytherin, Draco.” She exclaims. “No matter what those big-headed Gryffindors are always saying, I was sorted into Slytherin and I’m proud of it- you’re supposed to be proud too, not agreeing with those stupid stereotypes.”

“It’s different.” He exhales in frustration. “I am those stupid stereotypes!”

Draco Malfoy has never been considered modest.

Self-confidence isn’t a trait earned in the Malfoy family clan, but rather inherited between generations, a birth right bestowed upon them the minute they are old enough to understand. It’s a confidence Draco has always been comfortably protected by, unwaveringly sure of his own self-importance gifted to him by his ancestors

Yet something about the infamously kind (Y/N) (Y/L/N) has him constantly falling apart at the seams with the need to be good enough for her. He’s never met anyone like her, no one so capable of making him question the unwarranted self-importance he was raised on as a Malfoy.

Even now, wrapped unceremoniously in his scarf, late falling orange leaves lying in her hair and her cheeks stained with tears, he’s never felt so undeserving of a person in his life. She’s a lady, and he’s just a boy, he’s heartbreakingly inadequate.

“I just want to be someone you can be proud to call yours.”

With his eyes solemnly fixed on his lap, anywhere other than her reaction, he jumps slightly at her cold fingertips on his hand, prying them from the tightly curled fists he has no recollection of clenching and slipping her fingers into his.

“Draco, look at me.” She pleads softly. “Please.”

He does so slowly with her encouraging squeeze of his hand, she’s smiling at him, sympathetic, but unpatronizing.

“I am proud.” She states softly, but confidently. “I don’t want some perfect golden boy, I want you, Draco.”

Three words he never knew he needed from her, ‘I want you’, and they fill a space in his chest that was gaping for reassurance. She’s amazed him again as she always does, she has a talent for making him speechless than no one else has ever mastered.

“You’re so harsh on yourself you haven’t even realised how much you’ve grown, Draco.” She informs. “You’re not the bully you used to be, you’re not the carbon copy of your father anymore, and I’m sorry that no one has allowed you to move on from your past to see your present.”

She smiles sheepishly at his dumfounded expression and gives him the moment he needs to collect his thoughts and process it all. Then, slowly, he’s shaking his head in surprise, letting out a soft sigh.

“You’re too good to me.”

“Don’t make me repeat myself.” She jokes. “I think I straightened that misconception out already.”

“No but- you’re just so…”

The heat burning his cheeks is worse than ever before, he feels almost overwhelmed by it all, her compliments, her smile, that genuine look in her eyes that convinces him she’s unwaveringly sure of every word she’s said.

“Thank you.” He blurts finally. “Especially after I- well I ruined it all.”

“Yeah, I won’t lie, you really fucked up.” She admits. “But you’ve made an honest recovery…”

“Thank you for giving me a second chance.” He exhales gratefully. “You didn’t need to do that.”

“I was going to tell you to piss off after the ‘are you cold’ bit to be honest.” She chuckles. “Stayed because you gave me your scarf- which I’m stealing by the way.”

“Take it.” He urges, a smile finding his lips for what he’s sure is the first time in two weeks, since his misguided decision to end their almost-relationship. “Take whatever you want from me, it’s yours.”

She lets out a shaky breath and gulps. She purposely drops her gaze momentarily to his lips before retuning them to his eyes again, a gesture that has his eyes widening and the tips of his ears turning scarlet. Slipping her fingers from between his, she tentatively cups one of his cheeks, fingertips grazing the red colour blossoming on his pale skin.

“Can I kiss you?”

“I-“ He chokes. “Yes.”

She smiles nervously, reassuring him that he’s not the only one flustered. Then, curling her free hand around the lapel of his jacket, she pulls him closer with eyes shut. Their lips are cold when they meet, and slightly chapped by the cool air, but neither care. Draco places a hand on her waist, pulling her somehow closer as their lips begin to move hesitantly together. She lets out a soft content sigh, sending a breath of warm air into the kiss and causing him to positively melt inside. She’s done it again, completely incapacitated him with such a simple thing as a kiss.

“You’re going to be the death of me.” He exhales.

She lets out a giddy laugh as she pulls back, forehead still pressed to his and eyes still shut.

“There are worst ways to go than my lips.”

He knows, he’s very quickly decided that’s the only way he ever wants to go.  She presses her lips to his again for a split second before pulling back completely, he aches for the feeling again, greedy for it now that he’s felt it once.

“Next time, talk to me.” She pleads. “If you ever feel like you’re not good enough, I’ll be there to convince you otherwise, but don’t just disappear.”

“I won’t.” He assures. “I never meant to hurt you.”

“I know that, Draco.” She smiles sadly. “I just want you to know that you can talk to me.”

“I do.”

The hard part, that initial step, is over. He’s leapt into the unknown, flung himself into the terrifying depths of vulnerability, and there is no going back, but he never wants to, he never wants to leave her again.

“Also if I ever hear you speaking shit about our house again I swear to-“

She’s cut off by his lips once again on hers, startled only for a minute before she’s grinning, grateful to see his confidence returning. She can feel his own grin on her lips and the vibrations of a light laugh before he’s pulling back again.

“Consider me warned.”

“Good.” She exhales. “Or I’ll be confiscating your tie next.”

. 

(Authors note: its not my favourite but if i rewrote it one my time i was flinging my laptop out my window... its not particularly proofread.)

[peaceoutofthepieces]

Tracing Time

Saturday, 08:10

Song: Her - Five Minutes

The sun comes out.

It had risen hours ago with Sander, but also like him had then tucked itself away, making its ascent behind a flurry of dense clouds. Now Sander watches as the last wisps slither aside and reveal the full circle.

It hasn’t been up quite long enough to warm the concrete roof Sander sits on. He’d thought, rightly, to grab his jacket before slipping out around an hour prior, and he’s grateful for the tough leather now. He hadn’t bothered bringing his camera, so his hands are also safely tucked into his pockets. He doesn’t need any more photographs of this view than he already has.

He likes it fine like this. To just sit and see. He doesn’t need to capture it. To have it exist in this moment is enough.

Being so high up likely doesn’t help with the chill, but this is one of Sander’s favourite spots. He’d been pleased, the day one of his professors took their class to one of the older buildings in the academy and climbed the back stairs right to the top. They’d had to capture this scene that day. The sun glinting amidst the clouds, the clouds obscuring the tops of some of the area’s highest buildings, and all the life going on down below. Even now there are a few students milling around there, heading to their studios early or meeting fellow classmates, and interspersed is the honk of morning traffic, the hustle and bustle of a world just beginning to wake.

Sander is apart from all of it. The sun is slanting a ray solely for him; the beings below are tiny specks of colour splashed amidst the gray; the level of the world he’s entered is quiet, aside from the music lilting lightly in his ears.

He had been even more pleased that day to notice none of his fellow classmates had paid much attention to the roof itself, but simply focused on the task at hand. He had wondered how such a perfect place of solace wasn’t already constantly occupied, especially when it could be so easily accessed by a whole school of art students. He hadn’t thought he would be able to make it his own.

But sitting on the lip of the building, legs hung over the edge and arms resting on one of the lower bars stopping him from falling to his death, it does feel like the rooftop belongs to him and him alone. The thought is enough to bring a smile to his face.

He’s the only one seeing this right now, the only one capable of capturing this exact image at this exact time. It doesn’t—like many things do—make him feel as isolated or small as he expects. It reminds him that he has his own vision and his own mind and his own existence, and this must mean he is meant for something. This eagle-eye perspective of this universe in this exact moment is made just for him.

His smile widens as he ponders on how Robbe-like that thought is.

It’s this thought that eventually draws him away. He slides his legs back onto solid concrete and hauls himself to his feet, wincing at the twinge in his ass and brushing stone crumbs off the back of his jeans. Then he slips back through the doorway and down the stairs and begins the trek back to his number-one solace.

His feet cry out in relief as he quietly lets himself into the house and pulls off his Docs. They aren’t the best walking shoes. His feet feel achy and sweaty and he curls and rolls his toes on the wooden floor as he hangs his jacket back on his usual hook. Then he climbs another set of stairs.

He’s relieved to find Robbe exactly how he left him, only now lit in a more golden glow. The boy is curled on his side, facing the doorway Sander has just crept through, curls splayed on the pillow and mouth slightly agape. Fast asleep. Beautiful.

Sander tugs off his jumper and steps out of his jeans, then rounds the bed and crawls back in next to his boyfriend.

The sheets have chilled since he vacated them, unhelpful against his already-cold skin. He shifts towards the middle of the mattress and already feels warmer. The heat emanating from Robbe beckons him closer, and he doesn’t fight it, slipping right into the dip behind Robbe and sliding an arm over his waist, pulling the boy back against his chest. Robbe moves easily, snuggling back into Sander with a sigh, and Sander’s whole body blooms with heat.

As much as he likes his rooftop, there’s no doubt that this is his favourite place to be. ‘This’ being anywhere within Robbe’s orbit.

He doesn’t quite drift off again, but his body goes pleasantly lax and his mind quiets. The longer he listens to Robbe’s soft breaths the more his own heart eases.

Then Robbe starts to shift, and Sander worries he’s woken him. He wriggles in Sander’s arms and Sander loosens his grip, but Robbe simply rolls over in his embrace, turning to face him and immediately curling towards his chest. Sander’s lips turn up in a smile as he draws him in, pressing his nose to Robbe’s soft curls and inhaling slowly. Robbe’s arm curls over his waist, tucking around his back and denting his skin.

He traces patterns over Robbe’s bare shoulder in the few minutes it takes for Robbe to stir again. His grip tightens on Sander for a second as his eyes scrunch, refusing to succumb to the sunlight as he presses closer to Sander’s chest.

Sander presses a kiss to the top of his head as he lets out a tiny, whiny hum, still half-asleep as he stretches his toes against Sander’s ankles and blinks.

Robbe’s doe eyes, even while squinty and crusted with sleep, are the most mesmerizing things he’s ever seen. The corners of them crinkle as Robbe leans back far enough to smile up at him before burying his face back in the crook of Sander’s neck. “Morning,” he mumbles. Then he kisses the closest patch of Sander’s skin.

Sander hugs him tight and returns, “Morning. Sleep well?”

Robbe hums again. “Wha’ time is it?”

“I don’t know. Still before nine, I think.”

“Okay,” Robbe sighs, giving him a squeeze. “We still have some time then.” After a pause, he pulls away from Sander again and looks up at him curiously. “Did you go out? You’re cold.”

This last bit comes out as a whine, and Sander huffs. “Yeah. Just for a walk.”

Robbe hums, smiling as he snuggles back into him again, pushing Sander onto his back so he can sprawl out over his chest and lock their arms together. “Taking photos?”

“No. Didn’t take my camera or anything.”

“But you took your phone, right?”

“Of course, I needed music.”

Robbe huffs, but accepts this response without further questions, leaving a smiling kiss on Sander’s chest. He repeats the motion, then starts up a lazy trail, mapping his way across Sander’s collarbone until Sander tugs his hair. Robbe tilts his head up and lets Sander connect their lips, shifting up on the bed and pressing a hand to Sander’s cheek. Sander’s hand moves to cup the back of Robbe’s head, fingers tangling in his curls and drawing him closer. Robbe’s hand moves up his chest to settle in the crook of his neck and he feels suddenly warm.

He skims a hand down Robbe’s back, tracing the divots and dents of his spine, breathing slow under Robbe’s lazy kisses. He palms at Robbe’s hip, and Robbe quickly takes the hint, lifting his leg over Sander’s and settling atop him before letting out a happy hum.

“Good morning,” he says, amused and cheeky, and Sander bites his lip in retaliation.

Robbe giggles and Sander swallows the sound down, tucks it away in the lower part of his chest to be dug up later. He has made up a whole portfolio of these precious sounds, along with a plethora of the most stunning images and a sad imitation of Robbe’s touch. It’s hard to beat the real thing.

Sander soaks up as much of it as he can now and still begs for more, splaying one hand over shoulder-blades and letting the other slide down, curling over the curve of Robbe’s bottom, drawing him down while tilting his own hips up. Now Robbe’s hum is lower, coming from a more guttural place as he bears down on his own, only requiring that initial permission.

He breaks away to gaze down at Sander, tracing light fingertips over his face as he breathes heavily. Sander smooths his hand back up the line of Robbe’s back to tangle both in his hair. This time he makes his way along Robbe’s cheek, feathering kisses against the stubbly skin until he can brush his lips against the shell of Robbe’s ear and nip at the lobe, free of his earring for the moment. Robbe makes a small, mewling noise and tightens his grip on Sander’s shoulders.

“What time are you leaving?” Sander asks, keeping his voice at a murmur so as not to spoil the mood entirely.

“Jens is meeting me here around ten.”

Sander groans. “You can’t make that ten-thirty?”

Robbe huffs gently. He places his hands on Sander’s chest and pushes himself up to sitting, still astride Sander’s hips. Sander would be more upset with the new lack of contact if it didn’t give him such a nice view; Robbe is all clean-cut lines and lean muscle, with skin glowy and soft under Sander’s fingers. “Jens wanted to be gone yesterday,” Robbe reminds him, not unkindly.

“Why didn’t he just go with Lucas, then?”

“Because he agreed to wait around so I could spend the night with you.” Robbe raises his brows. At Sander’s permanent pout, he huffs again, shaking his head. “You can still come with, you know. We’re going to get a break before the end of school. Couldn’t you do with a break, too?”

Sander groans again and pulls Robbe’s pillow over his face. “I can’t,” he moans. “This project is due on Monday. Unless I stayed up all night tomorrow, I wouldn’t have time to finish it.”

Robbe hums. “You’re usually the one begging me to keep you up all night.”

Sander gives him a sour look, even as his stomach flutters.

“I’m sorry,” Robbe laughs. “I really am. But you know Lucas never asks for anything.”

“And you want to go.”

Robbe hesitates, but he never lies to Sander. He gives a tiny nod and an apologetic smile. “I do. And Jens really needs it.”

Sander considers him for a moment, the lovely curve of his lips and the gentle doe-eyes, and blows out a sigh. “You deserve it,” he says softly. He gives Robbe’s ear a tug and allows himself to smile. “And I suppose I’ll survive.”

It only takes Robbe’s grin to prove he’s done the right thing. Robbe leans down to leave him a kiss, light but lingering, and then turns it into a dozen different pecks instead. “You better. Thank you.”

Sander can only lie there and accept the onslaught of affection, laughing as he settles his hands on Robbe’s thighs and squeezes. He meant what he said—Robbe does deserve it. They hadn’t managed to get away over the break as initially planned, so when Lucas invited them back to Utrecht this weekend they had jumped on the offer. Sander had shared the excitement initially, but then had quickly been reminded of his reality, in which he had stupidly chosen to leave things to the last minute.

“I feel more sorry for you, anyway,” Sander mumbles, emitting a low whistle. “I’ll be alone, but at least I’ll have a quiet night.”

Robbe immediately pushes himself up again, wide-eyed. “No. We’re staying at Lucas’s house, with his mom. Surely they won’t…”

Sander snorts, waving at the space around them and raising a brow. “Where are we right now, Robbe?” At Robbe’s blush, he purses his lips together, making his own eyes big in suggestion. “It is a stress-relief getaway.”

Robbe buries his face in his hands and groans. He rolls off of Sander even as the elder protests, peeking through his hands to stare up at the ceiling. “I’m going to come home traumatised. It’ll be worse than the time I walked in on him and Jana.”

“Not if you don’t walk in on them,” Sander laughs. Seconds later, a pillow smacks him in the face. He makes a muffled protest as he’s attacked again, grabbing at the soft material and wrestling it out of Robbe’s grip to whack him back, hearing Robbe make an ‘oof’ sound before breaking out into giggles.

Eventually, Sander tosses the pillow aside and wrestles Robbe instead, getting him flat on his back and moving over him. He slots a leg between Robbe’s and presses their tangled hands down either side of Robbe’s head, and Robbe’s eyelids droop. Then his fingers flex around Sander’s as his lips part. His neck strains as his head tilts up. Sander ducks down, but forgoes Robbe’s lips to lick a stripe up his neck.

“Sander,” Robbe whines, squirming underneath him in protest even as he lets out a breathy laugh.

“What?”

“We haven’t got long.”

Sander hums, pulling the patch of skin he’d been kissing between his teeth to hear Robbe gasp. “We’d have longer if you were going to stay.”

“Sander,” Robbe repeats, this time in sullen protest.

“Sorry, sorry,” Sander soothes. “We still have enough time though, don’t we?”

“Did you hear my mom when you got back?”

“Nope. I assume she’s still sound asleep.”

Robbe smiles at that, pleased, and Sander finally grants him a kiss, slow and sensual until Robbe makes a needy little sound and squeezes his hands. Sander releases his hands and Robbe immediately tangles them in his hair, tugging at the strands.

“How many minutes do we have to make up for?” Sander asks him.

“Too many to waste time calculating now. We just have enough time to make sure you don’t forget me while I’m gone.” Robbe winks at him, and Sander huffs and goes in for another kiss, but Robbe is already moving. Sander half expects to be rolled over again, but instead Robbe just shimmies down, licking and biting his own way along Sander’s neck before heading lower.

Sander’s arms tremble with the effort of keeping himself up when Robbe’s lips close around his nipple. He draws his pillow over to bury his face in it as Robbe works a mark into his chest, rolling the opposite nipple under his thumb. Once he’s pleased with his work and Sander’s mumbling his name, he makes his way further south.

The following minutes are quite memorable indeed.

~^~

next

[rain-anonymous]

Hi I'm not sure how happy I am with this but here it is anyways

This is for the pirate au because I have brainrot dskfjdlfkj

It’s chaos at the docks.

You know because you and your mother had gone there to do some shopping. It had been a fairly peaceful day at first, people flitting around from stand to stand to do their own errands, picking up foods and ignoring the stench of freshly caught fish.

As usual, you were miserable. The mundaneness of it all weighed on your shoulders heavily as you followed alongside your mother, who was carrying a basket and humming to herself. Just as she typically does, the woman had practically dragged you out of the house, claiming that you needed to do something useful instead of reading your “stupid tomes.”

Books: the one thing that let you escape the miserable life you lived. Your home life had been awful for as long as you could remember; full of shouting in the other rooms and parents who constantly smelled of tobacco and mead. The only times they seemed to pay any mind to you were when they needed something from you, seemingly annoyed by the fact you didn’t know what they wanted without them telling you.

So of course you turned to books. They helped drown out the shouting when you could immerse yourself in the ink scrawled across the pages, taking you to someone else’s life. The more you read, the more you wanted to put yourself in the main character’s place. You started to imagine yourself in the pages, befriending the characters and slaying monsters, being important.

The more you imagined it, the more you longed for something to interrupt your routine life.

Of course, this wasn’t really how you expected it to happen.

It started with crows. It was only two, circling over the docks and cawing loudly. After a few minutes, murmurs had started. Everyone had heard about the pirate crew that ventured from town to town, the captains almost always having crows with them. Some laughed at the prospect of the infamous pirates coming to such a small town. Surely they wouldn’t bother with ransacking this place, even with as wealthy as most people were here. Others started to cautiously walk away from the docks, not wanting to be there if a ship did pull up to the pier. You tried tugging on your mother’s sleeve, wanting to point out the crows, but she waved you off with a “not now” before returning to her conversation with one of the stand owners.

Suddenly, your head turned to the sound of shouting. The docks went quiet for a moment as they looked towards the man shouting about a ship approaching the town.

“I promise you,” he shouted, pointing off into the sea. “I swear, it was their ship! There’s no way it could’ve belonged to someone else.” A few people laughed at the man, making fun of his panic. Sure enough, in the distance, you could see the distinct shape of a large ship quickly making its way towards the docks.

You would recognize the octopus emblem anywhere. One of your favorite stories was of the Gloop Pirates (an admittedly strange name for one of the most formidable pirate crews), appearing in books and spoken tales where children were kidnapped from their parents. The memory of these stories fills your head, and suddenly you’ve never wanted anything more than to be picked up by the ruthless captain trying to escape the navy.

As you stare towards the rapidly approaching ship, a hand tightly closes around your arm.

“We need to leave, let’s go,” your mother says, apparently recognizing the ship as well. You open your mouth to protest before you’re jerked forward in the direction your mother is walking.

More shouting erupts behind you as your mother pulls you along, talking to you about something. You can’t hear her over the sound of your own thoughts rushing past your ears.

What would happen if you were to pull back? If you were to turn around and run towards the ship? Would the captains pick you up and take you? Would they ignore you? Would they try to do something else?

“Could you move any slower?” you somehow hear your mother say as she shoves you in front of her. Anger swirls in the base of your stomach-- of course that would be the thing she says to you in this situation.

You stop moving. “What are you doing?” she sneers, running into your back abruptly. “Let’s go, I can’t deal with you right now.” Bravely, you shake your head.

“No,” you hear yourself protest, looking up at your mother.

“No?” she repeats incredulously. “We don’t have time for this, we need to go.” You take a step back from her and look towards the docks. There, you can see the ship. It was just barely coming to the edge of the pier, and a tall figure had jumped off the boat and onto the wood with a thud. Your mother’s head turned towards the figure momentarily.

You realize that her attempts to get you to move weren’t to protect you, they were to protect herself. She wanted to get out of there for herself, not for you.

With that realization in mind, you find yourself able to move, running past your mother and towards the boat.

“What are you doing!” Your mother shouts from behind you angrily, but you pay her no mind. Your eyes are set on the figure grinning ear to ear, looking around the docks with a hand on faer dagger. One of the crows swoops past you and lands on the captain’s shoulder, cawing loudly.

Finally, you slow to a stop. The captain’s eyes fall on you, then to your clothes, then to the bruise forming on your arm.

“You!” the woman shouts, the frown that had developed on faer face smoothing to a grin, “are you looking for a place to stay? Maybe a way to leave here?” Your eyes widen and, without hesitation, you nod. She takes a few strides towards you before dropping a knee to the wood below you, making herself eye level with you.

“How about,” fae starts, “we do a little stealing, and then we can move onto the sailing part.”

“Hey!” you hear the familiar sound of a woman’s voice approaching you. “Get away from my child!” A scoff erupts from the pirate.

“No,” fae responds, faer voice booming throughout the docks.

“T-that’s not how this works!” your mother stutters. “You give her back, or else… I’ll…”

“Do what, call the navy?” The pirate laughs before stepping away from you and towards your mother. Brandishing the dagger fae had faer hand on moments ago, fae points it towards your mother. “Leave,” fae warns, “unless you want me to slice your chest open.”

You watch as your mother glances between the dagger and you before backing up, turning on her heel, and speed walking away.

The pirate turns to you, slipping faer dagger back into its sheath. “Rain,” fae introduces faerself, holding a hand out. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Later that night, as you’re laying on a cot, looking up to the wooden planks of the ship, you can finally relax to the sound of waves hitting the edge of the boat. You smile to yourself as your hand comes to rest on the bandages wrapped around your arm, grateful that, for once, you didn’t do what you were told.

[miyanom]

NSFW ALPHABET (j.kirstein)

▸ masterlist

▸ warnings: 17+, fem!reader

▸ notes: bless @oblxvion’s beautiful brain for helping me out with some of these. anyways I swear I edited but if there’s mistakes that’s just me being blind and stressing abt posting this

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Jean is a king of aftercare. No matter what happens in the session, he’s so soft afterwards, helping you get cleaned up and then offering to get a drink or some food for you, or even just cuddles if that’s what you want.

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

On himself, Jean likes his hands for a variety of different reasons. But especially because of how quickly he can get you squirming beneath him with just his fingers.

On you, he loves your boobs, no matter how small or big. Even in a non-sexual way, he loves laying his head on your chest to rest.

He has a habit of leaving a trail of marks across your chest, and gets off on the fact that only he can do that.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically)

His preferred place to cum is inside you. It’s such an intimate thing, which is why he prefers it.

Plus the sight of his cum dripping out of you as he gently presses against your abdomen is enough to get him ready for another round.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

It’s not too much of a secret, but he loves seeing you brought to tears as you struggle to take his cock.

“Look at you princess, crying over my cock.”

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

He’s not too experienced when it comes down to it, but he learns really fast! He’s very attentive, and can easily pick up on what makes you feel good and what doesn’t.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

Missionary mostly, but Jean also loves cowgirl. He just likes positions where he can see your face, so he can see how much of a mess he’s making you, especially if you’re so fucked out that you’re on the verge of tears.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

He’s fairly serious, but there are times where he won’t hesitate to crack a few jokes just to see you laugh before he starts pounding into you.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc)

He’s well groomed, as in he trims down there but isn’t completely hairless.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect...)

Sex with Jean is always intimate, he likes making you feel good.

He’s a giver, he just wants it to be all about you, and honestly wouldn’t mind spending hours in between your thighs if you let him.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

Jean doesn’t tend to get himself off very often, why would he need to when he has you? But in times where the two of you can’t see each other, he’ll look to videos or pictures you’ve sent, imagining you’re there for him.

If you were to send videos where you’re touching yourself and begging for him, he swears he could cum right then and there.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Size kink: Now this doesn’t necessarily mean his height only, but he does enjoy that too. No but this also counts for his cock and how he enjoys watching you struggle to take him fully.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

Majority of the time he likes to keep it private, anywhere around the house he doesn’t mind. But sometimes, when he just can’t help it, he might just pull you aside and try something if you’re comfortable with it.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Something that manages to turn him on without fail; seeing you wearing his clothes. There’s something about seeing you with one of his shirts that just awakens the possessive side of him, knowing no one else will get to feel that way about you.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Jean would never do anything that could really hurt you. He’s also not into anything involving bodily fluids except for cum.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

As I said earlier, Jean is a giver, and he’s good at it too! He could spend hours between your legs, coaxing orgasm after orgasm if you would let him.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and Sensual?)

He prefers things to slow and sensual, so he can really spend time focusing on you and your pleasure. But sometimes, especially if you two haven’t seen each other or done anything in awhile, things will be fast and rough.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions of quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc)

Jean likes quickies, but they don’t happen too often. And when they do, it’s typically him just making you fall apart on his fingers.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc)

He’s up to taking risks, but again, he would never do anything that could hurt you.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last)

Jean can last a few rounds, around 4 before tiring himself out! And he’s able to pull orgasm after orgasm from you before he finally chases his own release.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Before you two started dating, Jean didn’t own any toys. But after, he bought some just to use on you.

U = Unfair (How much they like to tease)

Overall, he’s a gentleman, he wants you to feel as good as you can. And bringing you as close to the edge as possible before pulling away, wanting to hear you beg for him before he finally gives you want you want, is all part of making you feel good.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

He doesn’t care too much about being loud, and often groans or moans to let you know how you make him feel. He’s also constantly praising you, reminding you how good you are and how amazing you feel around him. He’s definitely got a praise kink.

W = Wild Card (A random headcanon)

While he’s definitely more on the dominant side, Jean is actually a switch — something he never willingly admits, but the blush spread across his face and the beautiful whines falling from his lips whenever you dom makes it obvious.

X = X-Ray (Lets see what’s going on in those pants)

Let’s just say the horse jokes definitely weren’t only about his face. About 7 inches, and on the thinner side.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Jean tends to have a pretty high sex drive when he’s not stressed out about something, he just wants to be feeling you up whenever he has the chance. But he would never pressure you into anything.

Z = ZZZ (How quickly do they fall asleep afterwards)

It takes him awhile to knock out after sex, his first priority is taking care of you after all. Jean also loves cuddling after sex, being able to hold you close and talk about whatever comes to mind until you fall asleep in his arms.

[mindofharry]

Garden Song

chapter 2 - motion sickness - garden song.

It’s been two years since the divorce between Julie and Grayson. A lot has changed. Grayson wants Julie more than ever. Will she take him back?

TW: some of the stuff mentioned in this series might trigger some people. please don’t read if you get triggered easily!

“i’m pregnant?”

Julie asked sarah, fear already taking over body. She had definitely done into some sort of shock. Julie placed a hand over her mouth and sat down on the toilet slowly, trying to comprehend this. Sarah had put the pregnancy test in the sink, and bent down in front of her friend.

“Is it graysons?” Sarah asked, no judgement evident in her voice. Julie looked down at her hands and let out a sob and nodded. “Hey, hey. It’s ok, i’m here” Sarah said pulling her into a hug.

“Everything was going ok” Julie paused letting out a breath. “The boys are so happy, Grayson has changed, really he has. He’s such a good dad and he’s been good to me. This baby, fuck, This baby would just ruin everything” Julie said, feeling so guilty. Sarah nodded and ran her fingers through julies curly hair. “We’ve been having sex for a couple weeks. We’ve been acting like we’re married, but it feels so good sarah. I feel so loved and happy” Julie cried pulling out of the hug.

“Why can’t god just let me be happy? Why did he decide that i didn’t deserve it?” Julie asked and sarah’s eyes filled up with tears.

No one deserved to be this sad, sarah thought. Julie is too good for this world, she deserves so much more.

“You’re deserve happiness, julie. Out of everyone i know, you deserve it so so much. Don’t let a man or a baby get in the way of that” Sarah said standing up. “Now, do i need to book an appointment for a scan or an abortion?” she asked and julies eyes widened.

“Sarah, i love you” Julie said and sarah’s eyes softened.

“I love you too, jules”

“But, um i need to tell grayson. He’ll be happy to do whatever i decide i think, but if i’m going ahead with an abortion he deserves to know before i go and it” Julie said and Sarah nodded.

“So you’re not worried about him leaving again?” Sarah asked and julie bit her lip shrugging. “I mean, there’s a part of me that’s preparing myself for it to happen. He’s so unpredictable lately. He may not leave the boys, but i have feeling he might leave me” She said and sarah cleared her throat and grinned.

“Well, you’ll always have me. I’m not going anywhere, whatever your decision is, ok?”

After cleaning herself up a bit, julie opened a bottle of wine for sarah to have. “I’ll drink twice as much for you” Sarah teased, Julie giggled and opened up a diet coke for herself.

Sarah left shortly after leaving julie to her own thoughts. Is this really happening? Would she be able to parent and look after three kids? And as she said, Grayson is unpredictable. The worst kind of unpredictable. She doesn’t know if she’d be able to parent three kids by herself. She’s too tired. Julies always wanted 5 kids when she was younger. Grayson agreed with her, saying they’d have their own little soccer team. They’d have 4 boys and 1 girl. Julie always wanted older brothers to look after her. She’d wonder would this baby have a good life, considering the boys’ life has been a bit rocky.

Is she emotionally and mentally able to have another child? Even to give up for adoption, is Julie able to go through a pregnancy right now? There was too many questions swimming around her brain, and it was overwhelming her. She needed to be calm and collected while talking to grayson. She didn’t want him to leave without having a full conversation.

Fuck, where did everything go wrong. The boys were both dropped home and tucked in no time. Grayson came to collect them early that morning for a boys day. The spend the day out in the park and in a nice restaurant.

“Julie? I’m home!” Grayson called out, the boys tumbling in. “Take off your shoes” Grayson told them hanging up their coats. The boys sat at the end of the stairs taking off their shoes, as told. They lined them up at the end of the stairs, grayson smiled at them.

“Go on and get some chocolate. Don’t tell mama” Grayson teased and the boys squealed running to the kitchen. Grayson walked into the living room to see julie laying on the couch. “Was gonna go out and do the food shop, but if you’re feeling too bad i can stay?” Grayson offered and Julie nodded.

“We can just get take out” Julie said rubbing her stomach, Grayson thought nothing of it. He just thought it was comforting her and helping her through the pain.

“Can we talk later?” Julie asked and Grayson furrowed his brows in confusion, but nodded anyways.

What could julie want to talk about?

“Mama!” Sebastian and Alexander yelled running in and basically sitting on julie. Julie, even as nauseous as she was, put a smile on her face and pulled through for her babies. Graysons face softened and sat down at the edge of the couch smiling at the interactions. The boys climbed all over julie kissing her face repeatedly, enjoying the sound of her laugh (more like cackle). Grayson never wanted this time to end.

He just had a feeling this wasn’t going to last forever.

Julie remembered times like this when grayson wasn’t around. The house was a little blue, but her boys smiling and laughing lit it up. The house was still a little blue, and she had a feeling it was going to stay that colour for a little while longer.

At least she’d always have her boys.

After dinner, the boys went upstairs to watch a movie before bed. They’re new obsession is the harry potter series, weirdly enough they’re actually able to stay away for all three hours that the movie goes on for. Sebastian is more interested than alexander, but they still both love it.

“The boys are upstairs, you want some wine?” Grayson asked pulling out a wine glass for himself. Julie shook her head and grayson smirked. “You never say no to a glass a wine, are you pregnant?” He teased laughing loudly, pulling out another wine glass expecting julie to laugh along too. When he turned around he saw julie about to break down. He could tell she was holding back a sob.

Fuck.

“You’re pregnant?” He asked putting down the glass. He rested his hands on the counter.

It was silent.

“Julie, answer me” Grayson said loudly, making her jump. Grayson sighed and placed a hand over his eyes. Julie cleared her throat. “I’m pregnant, took the test yesterday. I haven’t gone to the doctors yet” Julie said and grayson sighed feeling himself become really angry.

“Are you sure it’s mine?” He asked before he could even think about what he was going to say. Julies eyes widened and let out a bitter laugh. “Grayson i’ve been having sex with you for nearly months. Of course, it’s yours” She let out and grayson nodded.

“It’s just a lot to take in, Jules” He said and Julie nodded.

“I understand that” She said and let out a sob. “Please don’t leave me. I can’t handle being alone again” she cried and grayson sighed and walked around to pull her into a hug.

“I’m here to stay, julie. I’m not leaving again. But i don’t know if i can be a parent to three kids, i don’t know if you’re able to either. We’re really good right now, we’re in an amazing place with the boys. This baby would just ruin things” Grayson said rubbing his hands up her back.

“This baby would ruin us”

Julie pulled back and her brows furrowed. Ruin us? Their relationship?

“What do you mean?” She asked and grayson sighed leaning against the counter. “If you have this baby, it’s the end for us. Whatever this is was never going to last, Julie. We were just having fun. So if you have this baby, i’m not gonna be here for the booty call side of things. I’m a dad only” He said and julie took a step backwards.

“Booty calls?” She asked her eyes widening. “You fucking begged me take you back into my bed. You were practically crying the first time we have sex again” Julie seethed.

“It was never a bit of fun, Grayson” Julie paused looking up at grayson. “At least it wasn’t to me” she said and grayson tried to touch her again, to comfort her. But she shook her head “I don’t know what i’m going to do with the baby yet. But i do know whatever relationship we had before, it’s gone and done” she said. “If i go ahead with the abortion, do not come crawling back. You had your chance” Julie said and began walking of the kitchen.

“Yeah, go ahead just leave” grayson yelled after her. “Like you always do” He mumbled. Julie turned around and glared at him. “Me? Leaving like i always do?” she asked and grayson nodded with a horrible and disgusting look on his face.

“You LEFT me!” Julie yelled pointing at grayson. “You cheated on me, you lied to me, you gaslighted me, you left your sons, you did this all grayson dolan. You LEFT ME!” Julie cried and she was beginning to walk away but she stopped and turned around once more.

“But i guess it’s me that feels stupid now. i gave you another chance, after you fucking destroyed this family” Julie said and turned around to walk out of the kitchen once more. “Lock up when you’re leaving” she mumbled walking upstairs.

The boys were still watching their movie, which was good. She didn’t want them go through this again - so julie would keep this to herself. It’s better for everyone else if grayson and julie just kept their problems to themselves.

She gave a lifetime giving him her heart, and grayson constantly broke it. Constantly.

Julie sighed and sat down on the bed. Her phone dinged, she was guessing it was grayson. Julie picked it up and read the message.

ethan: coming home soon. i hope i’m still welcome in your home. i love you.

oh fuck.

Julie is pregnant, with her ex husbands baby. Her ex husband doesn’t want this baby or her for that matter - her ex boyfriend, that happens to be her ex husbands brother is coming home after breaking her heart in two.

Everything is going great.

[inactive-luv]

Normal

normal

normal

TW: depression, gender dun dUN DUN

word count: 2216

a/n: i’ve got a lot more gender neutral Spencer Reid fics loading :P

(Spencer's POV)

On a normal day, I would set my alarm for five in the morning and wake up slowly. I'd pour a cup of coffee and make myself some toast. I take a shower and brush my teeth and maybe listen to an audiobook on my way to work. I got this recommendation from Garcia, Ready Player One. I listened to the narrator's voice at a pace 'normal' people would read.

A part of me always felt self-conscious about myself, how I was different compared to everyone else. My mom called me special but that just made things worse. Special still sounds like there was something wrong with me. And that was just my I.Q, later on, I constantly got made fun of for the way I dressed, how I wasn't 'normal' enough. Never 'masculine' enough.

I haven't had a normal day in months. I started to wake up naturally around three am, if I ever slept. My thoughts kept me awake, thinking about the insults and taunts I got. I lay in bed most days. I told Hotch I was sick and stayed in a comatose state for most of the day. I would stare at the ceiling and wonder about myself.

I couldn't do anything. I couldn't eat, I couldn't breathe, I couldn't use the bathroom. The thought of having to stand up in front of the toilet. Washing my hands in a men's restroom, everything just made me sick. I hadn't gone to work in a week. It sounds odd but I didn't feel safe there. Work used to be where I could concentrate and use my abilities to my advantage, I watched and analyzed people's emotions for a living but now, it became so hard to think about myself.

I felt exposed in the workplace, at home I felt more comfortable using my own bathroom and I could wear my own clothes. I felt like someone else in the bullpen, someone different. Having to hear my name makes me feel imaginary. I didn't feel real in my body.

Getting out of bed this morning exhausted me. I dragged my feet across the wood and looked down at my sweater. The temperature in my house was always hot, something with the thermostat, but I couldn't stand looking at my own skin. I wore a thick sweater and a robe on top of it, long pajama pants and big socks. I knew I had to take off these clothes if I wanted to go to work today. I really did, I missed my friends, I missed having to do something.

Having a purpose meant a lot to me. I lost sight of what I was meant to do with my life, I would just mope around my apartment without doing anything and I still felt exhausted. I hated being here, I needed to do something. I couldn't just stay here for the rest of my life. I so desperately wanted my normal life again, but I couldn't even think about stepping outside my house.

I hate thinking about having to do normal things. I hated using public restrooms and wearing my normal clothes. Life becomes meaningless if you can't even look at yourself in the mirror.

A while back I put towels over all of my mirrors, this morning I lifted the one in my bedroom. I looked at myself for the first time in a long time. I looked at my eyes, the bags underneath them screamed tired and disgusting. My whole face looked blue and purple. I saw the veins in my neck, and when I touched them I winced.

Taking a deep breath, I started to remove the robe in front of me. I watched the fabric fall to the floor when I felt the ends of my sweater. A burst of energy filled my gut and flooded through my veins, causing me to haphazardly lift the shirt fully over my head and shimmied my pants off. I felt angry. Angry at myself for not being able to do the easiest things. And sad watching my body shake and my skin crawl.

I forced myself to stare at my chest. I stared long and hard at the flat shape and bare skin. I started to run my hand over my abdomen and I could feel my ribs protrude out of my skin. Tears started to fill my eyes when I glazed over my underwear. I could see the outline of my legs and the thought of what was between them made me sick. I felt like throwing up.

I rushed to the bathroom and clutched at the sides of the toilet. I quickly thought about all of the germs and bacteria and immediately lunged away from the seat. I washed my hands five or six times until my skin curled underneath the stream. I splashed the water on my face and began to sob. I ran my hands over my face and my eyes tinged from the tears.

When my hands roamed their way back to my chest I fell to the floor in a mixture of emotions. I felt depressed, gross, I felt cheated in my own flesh and blood. I felt contained to the bottom of my bathroom sink. The tears relaxed and I started to slowly lift myself off of the cold tile.

I wobbled back to my bedroom and tried to open my drawers. I reached for a dotted shirt and slowly buttoned the clothes on myself. With each button, I sniffed and let out a heavy sigh. I wanted to change my underwear but every time I slid my fingers past the waistband I cringed. I couldn't bring myself to look past my abdomen.

I just tried to pull on a pair of work pants without my eyes and slide a brown belt through the loops. I stared at myself in the dresser mirror and reached for another layer to put on over my body, a brown cardigan. I wanted to smile. I tried to force the corners of my lips to move upward but they only drooped a little lower. I swallowed my tongue and went to get my coat.

...

I walked into the lobby and saw people walking throughout the halls, I felt so out of place. I slowly slumped up to the elevator and pressed the button. It was halfway through the workday, a little after lunch. It was raining so hard outside I could hear it through the elevator walls, I heard the pat pat pat just outside the floors and I started to feel thirsty. I hadn't drunk much water in public because I didn't want to have to use a public bathroom. It wasn't a problem until one day I had to be sent to the emergency room.

I got nervous as the elevator doors began to open. I lifted my head and was relieved not to meet anyone as I stepped out. A sore feeling manifesting itself in my throat. I look up to see everyone in the conference room. I barely catch Rossi's eye when I start to walk up to the bullpen. Soon I can feel everyone's eyes on my back when I rest my bag on the edge of my seat.

J.J. walks out of the room to wave me over. I watch her walk back into the room, I look at her heels and her pretty blouse. I think back to what I'm wearing and feel gross. Why do I keep stressing about these sorts of things? Morgan doesn't worry about how he's dressed. Hotch doesn't care about shoes or what he has to wear. Rossi was the one who probably cared the most and even he didn't notice the things I do.

I rush up the stairs noticing how everyone is waiting on me. My pace slows down as I get closer and closer to the threshold of the conference room. "Hey, pretty boy's here!" I clench my jaw at the sound of that nickname. My stomach turns inside out and I think about just running out of the room and heading back home, or anywhere but here. "Why don't you sit down we were just starting." Garcia tries to talk to me in her sweet voice. I missed her so much, I missed everyone.

"No thank you," I whisper. I hadn't spoken words out loud in a long time. I don't talk to myself and I hadn't seen anyone else in days. I clear my throat gaining a sliver of strength from the anger in my gut. "No thank you I," I start stronger before pausing mournfully again, "I think I need to say a few things before I come back, officially. C- can you all please sit down." I choke in my breath and all of their faces turn worried when they look at me.

"Uhm, I know I haven't been here in a while but uhm," I turn my head to the floor, "I want to be able to come back, I do, and I uh," It gets really hard to talk without tearing up. I swallow hard when J.J tries to pat my arm, I don't mean to but I flinch and try to push her hand away. "I can't come back until," I'm afraid I'll start hyperventilating, "God I'm sorry." I move my hands up to my face and wipe away a few tears before swallowing and whispering again. "I can't come back until I figure out what's wrong with me."

"Kid there's nothing wrong with you-" "Yes there is! I- I- I can't sleep! I can't get dressed by myself! I can't even use the bathroom without feeling sick!" The words pool out of my mouth in a harsh tone and J.J. steps back when I flail my arms, "I can't look at myself in the mirror," Tears stream down my cheek when I turn my face around the room. "I need things to be different around here." Even Hotch's expression turns saddened and weak.

"I-" I choke and wipe my eyes with my sleeve. " I hate the name 'pretty boy'." I try to turn my eyes from Derek who's leaned over to see my expression, "I hate being referred to as 'Sir' or 'Mr.'" I bite my quivering top lip and draw my eyes back to the floor. "I hate hearing," I pause and clear my throat again thinking it would help stop my cracking voice, "he did this or it was him who," I sniff looking at Garcia whose eyes are also filled with tears.

"I'm not comfortable," I whisper and Emily gapes her mouth as if to say something then closes it rubbing her nose instead. "I haven't been comfortable for a long time. I don't know what I am anymore." The word 'what' sticks in the air for a minute before J.J. tries to pat my arm again and I let her. She eases in to hold me and I shut my eyes to stop sobbing.

"I- I- need," I start before shaking my head, "I'd like people to treat me differently." I furrow my brow thinking what to say next, "I looked online," I wipe my face again trying to slide J.J away from me, "and all the labels really scared me but uhm," I pause again "I think I'd like to try something I've been pushing down for a while." Rossi nods his head.

I feel awkward standing in front of all of these people, my friends. Years ago I could trust them with my life but now I felt so exposed and broken. I was scared of how they were going to react, I felt like screaming in my stance and running out of the room crying. I muttered out the first words before shaking my head and trying again. "I think," I clear my throat again, "I want to try different," I look at the group, averting my eyes off the floor while the edges of my lips curl into a saddened smile, before whispering the last word, "Pronouns."

I see Emily mutter a small "Oh," and Morgan's face turns confused. I slump into a hunched position and continue to cry softly when people start nodding their heads looking up at me. "Well," Hotch starts and people start to look at him. "I think that what you're asking for is," He pauses looking to the group then back at me.

"Perfectly reasonable and we will do or call you whatever you want" They all nod and mutter incoherent words. "Yes, yes of course we can." Garcia stammers wiping tears from her eyes looking at me from across the room. "What, uhm what would you like?" She asks rubbing her hands together, "To, you know," she shakes her hands before wiping more tears from her face.

I smile for the first time in weeks. It's not a toothy smile or a cheek to cheek grin but, it makes me feel safe knowing I can still do the things I used to. Come into work and smile. I catch my sighs and draw in a deep breath before looking at Garcia, "They/them." And the rest of the team smiles too.

...

[pay-with-your-kinks]

Frustrating

Summary: Seungmin and Hyunjin were constantly at each other’s throats, mostly fighting over you. So, you decided, that it was finally time to put them both in their place.

College AU

Photography-Major!Seungmin x Business-Major(Rich-Kid)!Hyunjin x Business-Major!Reader

Warnings: dom!reader, sub!members, Seungjin violence with each other, threesome, pegging, cum-play, slight pet-play(?), member on member, corruption kink, mommy kink, slight edging, also it was only quickly edited so there may be a couple mistakes

----

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“Shit!” Seungmin yelped, spinning around and being met with Hyunjin

Hyunjin rose his eyebrow, looking at the boy below him, Seungmin being crouched on the ground behind a bush, a camera in his hands.

“You look like a pervert,”

“I’m making art,” Seungmin squinted at him “Of course you wouldn’t understand that, though,”

“I have pieces you wouldn’t be able to afford if you sold everything you own,”

“Shit that your parents paid for that you don’t know a thing about,” Seungmin muttered, and turned back around “Damnit, I lost her!”

“Lost who?”

“Don’t act dumb. I know you were following Y/N too,” He said, still looking around for you from above the bush

Hyunjin pursed his lips and looked to the side, going quiet for a second.

“At least I wasn’t taking pictures,” He finally spoke

“You took too long to make a comeback. Now you not only look lame, but sound it too,”

“Only cause I’m not nearly as vulgar as someone like you,”

“Someone like me? You mean my money?” Seungmin turned back to face Hyunjin “Y/N may be taking your course, but she’s way closer to my ‘class’ then she is to your pretentious ass,”

“You don’t know I was talking about money!”

“You’re always talking about money. That’s your only personality trait. How rich you are,”

“I’ll show you a personality trait-” Hyunjin scoffed, and went to roll up his sleeves

“Hyunjin? Seungmin?” You asked from behind the two boys, and they both immediately swivelled around

“Y/N!” the two said in unison, Hyunjin’s hands automatically going to his hair to fix himself up, and Seungmin immediately hiding the camera behind his back and jumping to his feet

“What are you two doing?” You sighed “Looks like you were at each other’s throats,”

“Me? Fighting with someone?” Hyunjin’s eyes widened in what would’ve passed as surprise had you not just plainly seen the two fighting after having followed you

Seungmin took a deep breath in and clenched his camera in his hands, trying to keep his anger under control, especially in front of you.

“Right…” You nodded slowly “Well I was just heading to get bubble tea, wanna join?”

“I’d love to!” The two said in unison

They glanced at each other

“…jinx you owe me an hour alone with Y/N,” Seungmin muttered quickly under his breath

“Like hell,” Hyunjin muttered back

You raised your brow and breathed out a laugh, knowing that they probably assumed that you couldn’t hear them, like always, before beckoning them over and beginning to walk towards the bubble tea shop. They both went urgently to your side, and you couldn’t help but make a comparison of both of them to puppies.

 ----

Light shone in streaks through the blinds in your window, landing right on your eyes. You groaned and squeezed them shut before turning away from your window and blindly patting your hand on your bedside table, finally finding your phone and picking it up.

You sighed when you saw the time. Eight in the morning. Even on weekends you couldn’t catch a break. Squinting, you clicked on the message notifications and brought up the first one.

[Hyunjin]: Hey Y/N, can you help me study today? There’s something I can’t seem to get down

You clicked out of it, and onto the next one

[Seungmin]: Y/N! I know this is sudden, but could you help me with something? I’ll tell you what it is when you message me back

[Seungmin]: It’s okay if you’re busy, though. It’s something with my photography course

You yawned and sat up, leaning against your bed frame, and clicked back onto Hyunjin’s message

[Y/N]: What do you need help with? Seungmin’s asked for my help today as well, so maybe we could all hang out together?

Going back to Seungmin’s chat, you started another message

[Y/N]: I can try!

[Y/N]: Hyunjin wants my help with studying, so if we could all meet up together, I could probably try to help you both.

You suddenly got two more messages.

[Hyunjin]: Sure, he can come if he wants, but he might slow us down haha

[Seungmin]: Don’t think this is something Hyunjin can help with, but I can work with it if you really wanna study with him

You breathed out a laugh. They were so obvious.

 ----

After some time trying to convince Hyunjin, you finally arranged that you’d meet up at Seungmin’s dorm room, since that was where all his equipment was, and you and Hyunjin could just as easily study there as anywhere else.

“Hyunjin!” You called, and the boy in front of you turned around

“Hey Y/N,” He smiled, stopping in front of the dorm entrance and waiting for you to catch up with him “How are you?”

“I’m doing okay,” you smiled and began walking inside “Hopefully Seungmin can get what he needs while I’m helping you,”

Hyunjin noticeably huffed

“It might be really messy in there- you know, it’s much better to study in a clean environment-”

“Hyunjin we talked about this,” You raised your hand, and ruffled his hair, to which he practically yelped at, and began to fix it as soon as you took your hand away “By coming to Seungmin’s, everyone wins. Besides, your house is way further than the dorm rooms,”

Hyunjin pouted, and muttered a small ‘I guess so’

“You’re cute,” You chuckled

The boy immediately perked up, and his ears lit aflame with red. He tried to say something in response, but nothing coherent came out.

You eventually made it to Seungmin’s room, where you were about to knock, but were interrupted with the door swinging open, and a paint-stained Jisung came out

“Oh- hey Y/N!” He smiled at you, before looking at Hyunjin “Who’re you?”

“My name’s Hwang Hyunjin,” Hyunjin said, squaring his chest in a prideful manner

“Name’s Han Jisung,” The boy said in return, smiling lopsidedly “Oh, I’m kinda in a rush- there’s a painting I wanna get done today and I just ran out of a colour- Seungmin’s inside, catch you later!”

“Y/N!” Seungmin smiled, from his desk, looking at you from the open door “Thanks for coming, come in,”

“Thanks, Seung,” You started inside, followed by Hyunjin

“How do you know…what was his name? Han Jisung?” Hyunjin asked

“I’ve been to Seungmin’s dorm a couple times. The two are roommates as you probably guessed,”

Hyunjin blinked

“…You’ve never been to my house before,”

“Seungmin and I have been friends since high school, Hyunjin,” You laughed slightly “And like I said, your house is far away,”

The boy behind you scowled at Seungmin, who gave a smug, triumphant look back.

“This place is…” Hyunjin started, looking around for the first time “…cluttered,”

The room alone was full of supplies, most of which you assumed to be Seungmin’s, since they were more photography than visual arts, not like the two didn’t overlap, however. A large window was open at the back of the room, allowing in a lot of natural light. Seungmin ignored Hyunjin’s comment.

“You two can study over there,” He started, pointing to a desk positioned in front of the window “The lighting is good there, just sit on opposite sides, so I can get Y/N alone,”

 ----

You and Hyunjin had gotten settled and began to study. You mostly ended up teaching each other more so than just you teaching Hyunjin. Occasionally, Seungmin would bend down and snap a photo of you, or try to get higher above. It was hard to ignore at first, but eventually you started to not see it, especially when Hyunjin began explaining something that you’d been having trouble with for a while- he explained it quite well too.

“Y/N, could you face me just a tiny bit? Just your body,” Seungmin asked

“One second, Seung,” You replied, waving a dismissing hand and leaning more toward Hyunjin

Seungmin frowned and looked to Hyunjin, who only glanced back at Seungmin for a second before turning his attention back to you, but the entire second was so full of arrogance that Seungmin could’ve crushed his camera if it weren’t so expensive and he weren’t a broke college student.

Hyunjin would be lying if he told himself that he didn’t want to desperately see the photos that Seungmin was taking of you. You looked perfect in the lighting, and even though the room wasn’t his style, it did have a lot of plants that worked well with the scattered art supplies, and when you were put in the foreground, it was the most charming thing he’d ever seen. Seungmin, although Hyunjin despised to admit it, was also a pretty good photographer, and any photos he’d glimpsed of you taken by his enemy, he immediately fell in love with.

 ----

“Okay,” Seungmin said “That should be enough, thanks so much for helping me out Y/N! Couldn’t have done it without you,”

“Yes!” Hyunjin cheered, shutting his book “Can we leave now? This place gives me anxiety, we can study at your place?” 

You chuckled slightly as Seungmin glared at Hyunjin.

“Are you done work for the day, Seung? Or are you gonna edit those photos too?” You turned to Seungmin, and Hyunjin’s shoulders sagged when you didn’t reply to him

“No, I’ll just edit them tomorrow,” He shrugged “Why? Want me to come over and cook for you?”

“Cook for her-?” Hyunjin started

“Yeah, that’d be awesome,” You said, standing up and stretching “Come on, Hyunjin, we’ll study at my place then,”

“…and Seungmin’s coming?”

“Yeah, he’s actually a pretty good cook when he tries,”

Hyunjin pursed his lips, before beginning to gather his stuff, and slinging his bag over his shoulder, and you did the same.

 ----

The three of you arrived at your dorm just as the sun had started to go down

You let the other two in, both of them, and you, taking your shoes off before you walked to the couch pressed against the wall, and fell back on it, yawning.

“Oh-” Hyunjin started “Are you tired? Sorry if I was-”

“No no, don’t worry puppy,”

“Puppy?” both of them quickly asked, Seungmin, who was already heading towards the kitchen, snapping his head sideways in your direction

“You two are so uptight,” You smiled “Hold on, can I get changed quickly? I don’t like being in proper clothes when I’m in my own dorm,”

“Y-yeah- of course-” Hyunjin blushed, and looked back to Seungmin, who didn’t seem phased by the request, and he assumed that that’s what you would normally do

As soon as you were out of sight, Seungmin turned to Hyunjin, eyebrows furrowed harshly.

“Puppy’s my nickname,” Seungmin said, his tone accusatory

“What?” Hyunjin squinted “I’ve never heard her call you that before. Not my fault that I get the pet name,”

“You-”

Seungmin scrunched his nose and whipped out his phone, immediately opening your messages and scrolling up, stopping and shoving the screen into Hyunjin’s face, where it clearly displayed you referring to him as ‘puppy’ in casual conversation.

Hyunjin stared for a moment.

“That’s not-”

“I was her friend first,” Seungmin sneered

“At least is Y/N was with me I’d actually be able to support her. What do photographers earn?”

Seungmin suddenly jumped on Hyunjin, tackling him backwards, luckily onto the couch.

“You’re just a spoiled trust fund kid!” Seungmin growled, his hands pressed against Hyunjin’s shoulders, and Hyunjin opened his mouth to retaliate

“Geez,” Your voice came from the side, and they both turned to you, eyes wide “You two are really frustrating sometimes,”

You were wearing a black pair of sweat-pants, and a plain white t-shirt over-top, a view that made both of the boys’ thoughts immediately go to waking up next to you in the morning

“Y/N!” Seungmin gasped, and began to get off of Hyunjin, but you held up a hand

“No, stay there, puppy,” You smiled, and began walking up to them “It’s cute how you both think I don’t know what’s been happening. How dumb do you think I am?”

“We don’t think you’re-” Hyunjin began, talking off pure instinct, but you shushed him

“Wait- you know what’s been going on?!” Seungmin’s eyes became clouded with confusion

“You two are so loud, like, all the time. You don’t think I can’t hear you?”

“Then why haven’t you said anything-?” He continued, and Hyunjin just sat there, still trying to process the situation

“What do you want me to do? Choose between one of you?”

“Yes!” Seungmin started “Come on, Y/N, if you’ve known what’s been happening why didn’t you say anything sooner?! I’ve been having to hang out with this insufferable rich kid for too long!”

You sighed and began to walk up to the two of them.

“It’s a shame you two are both too prideful to let me choose both,”

“What-” Hyunjin’s eyebrows furrowed even further

“You’d look so pretty fucking each other...” You smiled, and ran your fingers through Seungmin’s hair, who was still on top of Hyunjin

Seungmin let out an involuntary whine from the back of his throat when you’d said that, and he immediately slammed his mouth shut afterwards, his entire face going red.

“Y-Y/N-” Hyunjin stuttered “Are you...offering to have sex?”

“Depends whether you two will let me play with you. Both of you,” You smiled at Hyunjin

The two made eye contact with each other, before they looked away, both their faces red now.

“You two are so frustrating. You always fight right in front of me like I can’t hear you. Maybe forcing you to look each other right in the eyes with one of your cocks inside the other’s ass will shut you up, hm?”

“Y/N...” Hyunjin breathed in “I...come on...you don’t mean that, right?”

“Yeah Y/N! You can’t expect me to- to fuck someone like him?!”

“You two have been real pains lately,” You shrugged “Don’t you think you should make it up to mommy?”

“Mommy-” They both repeated, their entire face, down to their necks going red

Once again, they met eyes.

“If we’ve really been inconveniencing her for so long...” Hyunjin muttered

“Now way!” Seungmin started, and he finally got off of Hyunjin, standing up properly and turning to you desperately “Hyunjin is-”

“Then you can just watch while I fuck Hyunjin instead?”

Seungmin paused

“...I’ll do it,”

You smiled, a devilish smirk that left both of the boys speechless, shivers going down their spine.

“Good,”

You turned around, and began walking towards the bedroom. Hyunjin sheepishly got off the couch and started following you, refusing to look at Seungmin, and Seungmin stayed still for a moment, before finally, he started walking too.

“I have a question,” You said, sitting down on the bed and turning to the boys once they were both in the room

They looked to you

“Have you ever fucked anyone the same gender as you?”

Hyunjin hesitated before shaking his head, and Seungmin stayed still, his blush deepening.

“...Seung?” You turned to the younger boy

“I-...” Seungmin started, shifting uncomfortably and glancing to Hyunjin, then back to you, before averting his eyes “I’m a virgin,”

You blinked

“Oh...oh no...”

“Really?!” Hyunjin turned to him, eyes wide “But you’re so-”

The boy paused, and then clamped his mouth shut. Both you and Seungmin turned curiously to Hyunjin.

“What were you gonna say, Hyunjin?” You asked, a smile finding it’s way onto your face again

Hyunjin mumbled, so quiet that you couldn’t hear, but Seungmin seemed to catch it, as his eyes widened and he sputtered slightly, as if trying to make sense of the words he’d just heard.

“What’d he say?” You turned to Seungmin

“...He said- he said I’m really pretty-”

You laughed

“Well he’s right,” You shrugged before getting up, and walking up to Seungmin “But we don’t have to do this. You shouldn’t have to have a threesome as your first time,”

“But I don’t want Hyunjin-”

“I won’t do it with just Hyunjin,”

Hyunjin turned to you, as if scandalised, but you glared at him, and he pouted, but didn’t say anything, still understanding that it would be unfair to Seungmin.

“...I’ve made out with guys before...” Seungmin muttered, and then added “and girls,”

“You can say you want some time to think about it,” You soothed, and cupped Seungmin’s hand in your cheek

“Uh...we can try...starting off small...” Hyunjin piped in

Your eyebrows instinctively raised.

“You seem eager, Hyunjin” You smiled “Before too, when I first asked you guys. Hyunjin, how long have you wanted to fuck Seung?”

Hyunjin immediately looked away.

“I just think he’s good looking, I still hate him!”

“What about you, Seung? What do you think of Hyunjin?”

“...his hair is nice...” He said, and opened his mouth, but didn’t say anything else

“And?”

“And...more than once I’ve thought about running my hands through it...”

You suddenly started laughing, and rather loudly too, as the boys both burned red.

“Then make out,” you said, finally calming down

Hyunjin and Seungmin squeaked at the abruptness of the suggestion, but before either could say anything more, you pulled Hyunjin and sat him on the bed, before pulling Seungmin and making him straddle the boy. You didn’t actually do much, just pushed them towards each other.  

You sat on the bed too, but up against the bed frame. Neither of them looked at you, just sat, seemingly staring at each other’s lips, before finally, Seungmin leaned in. You smirked as their lips locked. It started off timid, but got heated much quicker than you thought it would.

Hyunjin wrapped his arms around Seungmin, and pulled him closer, practically pressing their bodies together, and Seungmin’s hands went up to Hyunjin’s hair, where he not only ran his fingers through it, but tugged it, and not lightly either. Hyunjin moaned slightly, and Seungmin swore against the other boys’ lips in return.

They eventually pulled away, both of them already a mess, breathing hard.

“Made up your mind yet, Seung?” You smiled, and he turned to you, and, very slightly, he nodded

“Good boy,” You beckoned Seungmin over, and moved from your spot, directing him to sit where you were, up against the bed frame.

You went up behind Hyunjin, who was still sat on the side of the bed, and you leaned down, lips brushing against his ear.

“You were always so much meaner to Seung than he was to you,” You whispered

“That’s not true!” Hyunjin retaliated “He was only nice in front of you...”

“Yeah? Did he ever insult the way you lived, or your career choice? Those are pretty hard hits, you know?”

Hyunjin pouted

“No...”

“So, don’t you think you should apologise to him?” You kissed his ear, and your hands crept around him, where you grabbed the hem of his shirt, and lifted it up. Hyunjin lifted his arms up to help you get it off “Why don’t you suck him off like a good puppy?”

You went around Hyunjin and got off the bed, standing up and watching as, after taking a deep breath, Hyunjin crawled over to Seungmin.

“Holy fuck,” Seungmin breathed in sharply

“Please don’t say anything...” Hyunjin muttered, unable to take his eyes off the sheets and face the boy above him

“Jinnie, you should look at people when apologising,” You tutted, and reached to his hair, tugging it so that he was looking up to Seungmin “And Seungmin, its mean to be clothed when Hyunjin doesn’t have a shirt on, right?”

Seungmin nodded slowly, and took off his shirt.

Breathing out, Hyunjin reached to the fly of Seungmin’s pants, and slowly unzipped it, and he took out Seungmin’s cock.

Hyunjin shivered when he was met with the fully hard and angry red dick, and he leaned in, opening his mouth before you tugged him back.

“I didn’t hear an apology yet,” You condescended

“Mommy...” Seungmin muttered “It’s okay,”

“Didn’t it make you feel bad whenever Hyunjin criticised your choices? Being a photographer is what you’re passionate about,”

Seungmin opened his mouth to reply, but Hyunjin interrupted.

“I’m sorry Seungmin,” He whispered, and you could tell he meant it “I really didn’t mean to hurt you, I just...”

There was a short moment of silence, before Hyunjin attached his lips to Seungmin’s cock. Seungmin let out a surprisingly loud moan. Hyunjin paused, and you remembered that he’d never sucked a cock before, so, with your hand still on the back of his head, you slowly pushed him down, and once you thought he was far down enough, you brought him back up, so his lips were at the very tip. Hyunjin kissed it, before going back down again on his own.

“F-fuck- ah- Hyunjin-” Seungmin moaned, bucking up into the boy’s mouth

You could tell Hyunjin almost gagged from that, but he regained his composure quickly, and even groaned around it.

You got up from the bed, and went to the closet, quickly pulling out a box and grabbing a strap and a bottle of lube. Hyunjin couldn’t see, but Seungmin couldn’t help but watch you with lidded, pleasure-filled eyes. You smiled at him, and went behind Hyunjin, climbing onto the bed where Hyunjin momentarily paused at the dip in the mattress before continuing.

You reached to Hyunjin’s fly, and undid it.

“Mommy-” Hyunjin started, interrupting himself with a whimper when you pulled his pants and underwear down to his knees, exposing his ass and practically dripping cock to the air

“Jinnie, mommy’s gonna finger you, okay?”

“F-finger me-?”

You stayed silent, and Hyunjin nervously nodded before going back to Seungmin’s cock- he needed something to distract himself.

Seungmin intertwined his own hand with Hyunjin’s hair, and began controlling Hyunjin’s movements slightly, and Hyunjin made no move against him.

Grabbing the lube, you squirted some on your finger, and slowly pressed it against Hyunjin’s hole. Hyunjin let out an abrupt whine, and his body jolted. You rubbed his thigh before pushing inside him. He visibly tensed, and stopped moving his head while it was halfway down Seungmin.

“it’s okay, baby,” You soothed, and rubbed his thigh, before beginning to, very slowly, move

Hyunjin moaned some more, muffled by Seungmin’s cock, and Seungmin whined, seemingly getting a satisfactory amount of pleasure just from the vibrations of the other boy’s moans. You took your finger out, and added more lube, before sticking them both in, immediately starting to move them in and out. Hyunjin jolted again, and kept whining.

“Mommy-” Seungmin started “His eyes are teary-”

You paused.

“Fuck! A safe-word!” You slapped your forehead with your non-lubed hand “I’m so sorry puppies, I got so distracted,”

Hyunjin finally moved his head again, and took a deep breath in when he finally let his lips off Seungmin’s cock.

“I didn’t want you to stop...” He muttered

“It’s still important puppy,” You squeezed his thigh, and he whined

“What about ‘kitty’?” Seungmin asked

You breathed out a laugh

“Hyunjin? Is that okay?”

“Y-yeah-” Hyunjin stuttered

You nodded shortly before you started moving again, and Hyunjin immediately moaned. It was much louder than when he was muffled by Seungmin’s cock, you were almost surprised.

“You weren’t keeping your pretty lips on Seungmin’s dick just so you could quiet your noses, right puppy?” You asked, and Hyunjin gulped, sensing the threat within the question

“N-no mommy-”

“Try to purposefully hide your sounds again, puppy, and I won’t hold back, got it?”

Hyunjin nodded, before going back to Seungmin’s cock.

Seungmin swore and shut his eyes. You got off the bed, and quickly took off your pants and shirt. Grabbing the strap-on, you secured it to yourself and lubed it up generously. Hearing a sudden slurping sound, and a loud moan, you turned back to the two boys, where Hyunjin had started going much faster, and Seungmin was bucking up towards him.

“Fuck- Hyunjin that- ahh-” Seungmin whined, and you smirked, biting your lip at the high-pitched sounds

“Hyunjin, stop,” You said, and he did, ripping a loud whine from Seungmin

“Mommy-” Seungmin whined, turning to you, eyes glazed over and a pout decorating his face “Mommy why-”

“I don’t need you cumming just yet, puppy,” You shot an innocent smile at him, and climbed on the bed, lining yourself up with Hyunjin “Besides, I wanna hear Jinnie’s noises properly for a bit, don’t you?”

Seungmin quickly nodded, and his grip on Hyunjin’s hair tightened, making the boy beneath him whine.

Slowly you pushed in, and Hyunjin tensed, groaning and burying his face into the side of Seungmin’s bare thigh, somewhere along the lines, you noticed, Seungmin’s pants had completely come off, something you were disappointed that you missed.

Once you were fully inside, you stopped. Hyunjin shifted a couple times, moaning every time the dildo moved inside of him.

“O-okay,” He finally muttered, and you started moving

Hyunjin was immediately responsive, whining and trying to move back in time with you, but you could tell it also hurt. His fists were clenched so hard the were white, and he was biting into Seungmin’s thigh, made obvious from the way Seungmin was biting his lip, and struggling not to whine in pain.

You slowly started going faster, and Hyunjin began moaning louder. You leaned forward and grabbed his hair directing his head back to Seungmin’s cock, where he immediately began sucking again, bobbing up and down in time with your thrusts, and slurping loudly. Seungmin’s moans were whiny and high-pitched, and unlike Hyunjin, he didn’t make any attempt to muffle or hide them, something you dearly appreciated

Taking your hand off Hyunjin’s head, you grabbed his cock, and began jerking him off. Despite his moans still being muffled, they became almost as loud as when they weren’t barely a minute ago.

“M-mommy I need to- ahh- ah fuck- I need to c-cum-” Seungmin moaned

“Why don’t you cum on Jinnie’s face for me, hm?”

Hyunjin whined, and raised his head. Hesitating for only a moment, Seungmin started jerking himself off, aiming towards Hyunjin’s face, and with a loud moan, he came. You continued fucking Hyunjin harder and harder, annoyed that you couldn’t see Hyunjin’s expression, but you were sure you’d get another chance.

Seungmin stopped moaning, switching to breathing heavily, and staring open-mouthed and Hyunjin, who was now moaning shamelessly, occasionally kissing Seungmin’s cock, and you could see Hyunjin rubbing his cheek against the length of it, smearing around the cum that had landed there.

“Mommy-” Hyunjin started “I-”

You pulled out, and Hyunjin whined, moaning painfully and immediately turning to face you. His face was still covered with cum, some smeared and some left along, but he looked perfect, his lips even more swollen and red than normal.

“I wanna see you cum on Seung’s face,” You smirked “Seungmin, kneel on the ground,”

Seungmin followed your orders, and quickly went to the side of the bed, kneeling down and looking up to you with large doe eyes.

You turned Hyunjin so he was facing Seungmin, and went behind Hyunjin, immediately beginning to jerk him off again. Hyunjin bucked up into your hand and you attached your lips to the boy’s neck, biting down harshly. It was only another couple seconds before Hyunjin’s body practically started shaking, and stroked of white cum began decorating Seungmin’s face. Seungmin kept his mouth open, allowing some of it to land in there, while the rest went around.

“Fuck,” You growled, and Hyunjin’s breath seemed to hitch at the tone of your voice

Seungmin opened his eyes, and once again looked up to you. Hyunjin leaned forward slightly, and smeared his cum around Seungmin’s face with his thumb.

You moved back and took off the strap, and both the boys seemed to come out of a trance, and they glanced at each other before scrambling towards you.

“Mommy!” Seungmin whined “I wanna eat you out- please- hah-”

“I was better behaved!” Hyunjin shouted

“How?!” Seungmin yelled back

You rolled your eyes before sitting against the bed frame, and spreading your legs, revealing just how wet you were. The two boys gulped, watching intently as you ran two fingers over your slit, and brought them up, making a V-pose, showing the two the cum stretching between the fingers.

“See how wet you two both made me?” You smiled “You should both take care of it, hm?”

They glanced at each other one more time

“I wanna suck mommy’s tits,” Hyunjin said breathlessly

“Yes!” Seungmin cheered, smiling brightly

“Come here, Hyunjin,” You beckoned him to your side, and he followed

You placed your hand on his head, and guided his lips to your nipple, where he immediately began sucking, and you groaned. Seungmin crawled up to you, and you smirked before grabbing his head with your other hand, and guiding him to your dripping pussy.

Seungmin licked a long stripe up it, kissing it before taking your clit between his lips, and sucking softly.

“That’s right puppies,” You groaned “You’re making mommy feel so good,”

The two seemed to be fuelled by your praise, and they immediately sped up. Seungmin brought his fingers up to your pussy, and slowly pushed them in, immediately beginning to thrust them in and out, while Hyunjin started rubbing and groping the nipple he wasn’t sucking.

“Fuck fuck- ah-” You moaned

Watching the two cum-covered boys so eager to pleasure you, and having been worked up for so long, it didn’t take long for you to need to cum.

“I’m cumming Seung,” You moaned, and the boy immediately started going faster, along with Hyunjin

You let out a long, loud moan as you came, and Seungmin breathlessly started lapping up any cum he could. You calmed down, and both the boys pulled away, cum dripping down Seungmin’s chin.

There was a moments pause before Hyunjin leaned forward and cupped Seungmin’s face in his hands, and began kissing him, immediately sticking his tongue into the boy’s mouth. Seungmin kissed back, their faces pressed so close together that some of the cum started smearing against each other.

Finally Hyunjin pulled away, and licked his lips.

“See? Wasn’t so hard to make up right?” You smiled

The two boys sat there, breathing hard and burning red.