#but it’s too fucking dark for me to feel comfortable talking about online

[vaciena]

I really fucking wish I had someone to talk to about everything and get support other than my gf

[runa-falls]

something new

pairing: miguel o'hara x f!reader

rating: explicit (18+)

cw: smut, afab!reader, fluff :3, grinding/dry humping, pussy-job, creampie, 'outercourse', soft boyfriend!mig

w/c: ~2k

a/n: rewrite of my old fic bc i need it with miguel. if you read it before ignore it ;^) mig looks like this fanart by @xynnoix

----

You’re lounging on the sofa, legs resting in Miguel's lap and sitting in comfortable silence, when you decide to proposition him.

“I saw this video online and…I wanna try something with you.” He briefly looks up from his spider-pad, attention perked at your soft-spoken voice.

You beam at him from across the couch, an innocent smile slapped on your face as your lashes bat nicely against the tops of your cheeks.

Miguel simply shakes his head dismissively, “Cariño, we’re not doing any more MMA techniques.” He swiftly turns his attention back to his work, pointedly ignoring your childish pout. “You got hurt last time, remember?”

You let out an exaggerated sigh, “First, I didn’t even twist my ankle during the match! I literally slipped down the stairs when we left the training area. Secondly, that’s not even what I’m talking about!” 

“Ok, then what is it? WWE moves?” He asks teasingly, eyes still focused on the screen.

“Actually…I wanna try outercourse-- i-is that how you say it?” You talk about it so casually that he doesn't even realize what you’re saying until he plays it back in his head a few times. The finger that was working through several urgent emails slows down as you continue to ramble. 

“...Like pussy-jobs and grinding, I think. I don’t exactly know the technical terms that are involved, but it looked hot–” Your voice tapers off when you realize he’s looking at you.

His darkened gaze concentrates on your thighs that are unintentionally rubbing together as you recall your new interest. 

You know that look. His glaze-over eyes, furrowed brows, and tense body mean one thing: he’s interested too. 

Despite how worked up he is, Miguel manages to gently place his tablet on a side table before slowly wrapping his fingers around your ankles on his lap.

“So you want me to fuck you without actually fucking you?” 

“Y-yes...?”

He hums, turning his whole body to face you.

He fluidly pulls your body down to lay flat on the couch in front of him, barely leaving any room for him to sit. You feel his hand tap the side of your thigh.

“Open up for me, baby.”

Your loose shorts hike up your thighs as you obediently spread your legs for him, kneesbending to make space for him to scoot closer to you. The pale pink fabric displays a dark splotch over your center, evidence of your arousal and lack of underwear underneath. Miguel tauntingly raises an eyebrow when he notices.

“Aw, is your pussy already leaking for me?” Your breath stutters as he lightly glides his finger over your covered cunt.

“J-just a little.” Your thighs threaten to close when you feel him prod shallowly against your entrance. He groans, noticing how his movements encourage your slick to soak through the flimsy fabric of your shorts. 

You whine as you feel him pull away.

“Such a juicy slut for me.” He rasps, pushing himself closer to you so his head hangs over yours. Your head swims when you breathe in his comforting scent, he's so close, but you need him closer. Your body instinctively attempts to press up against him.

“Gimme a kiss, cariño.” 

You immediately obey, wrapping your arms around his neck and locking your legs over his waist, effectively pulling his warmth into your space. He leans in and gently brushes his lips against yours, taking time to breathe you in as your gaze locks with his. 

A breath is caught between you as you gaze into each other’s eyes, drinking each micro-expression on your face. Miguel lets out a soft sigh, "You're gorgeous."

And the intense mood breaks. 

You pull away to lightly giggle into his chest, a soft blush blooming from the edge of your neck to the tops of your cheeks. He matches your smile, watching with amused eyes as you react to his flattery.

Somehow he can still make you feel unbearably giddy despite the months you’ve been dating. 

You look back up with a crooked smile, “You’re pretty too, Spider-Man.” 

Miguel dips his head in and captures your lips in his. He’s gentle at first, slowly savoring your lips with small nips and caresses. He runs the tip of his tongue over the edge of your bottom lip, trailing a line over the sensitive skin, then pushing further against your mouth.

You whine when he licks into your mouth, coaxing your tongue to mingle with him, to taste your mixed flavor of lust.

Your back arches when he presses a finger flush against your throbbing clit. it simultaneously sends warm ecstasy down your legs and up your spine, and you can feel your center pulsing, craving more. 

Miguel leaves your mouth as he moves further up the couch to fit himself between your thighs. His forearms support his weight next to your shoulders as he gently lets his hips rest against yours. You can already feel his stiff cock twitching persistently between your bodies.

“Is this okay?” He asks, voice husky as he considers you under him.

Your eyes blearily blink up at him before you give him a shy nod, already looking thoroughly fucked out with your mussed hair and pink lips. He experimentally pushes down against you and starts to grind himself into your body with controlled strokes. 

The rough texture of his jeans digs deliciously into your softness, barely subdued by the thin fabric of your shorts. Pleasure zips up your spine as he involuntarily ruts against your clit with each shove of his hips. You nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck, attempting to smother your cries into his skin.

“This what you wanted?” He growls, body hot and heavy against yours. 

You feel yourself grow infinitely wetter, warmth spreading over your inner thighs. You whine as he twitches against you, your body hypersensitive to everything around you.

“Mm, fuck.” He feels your slick slowly travel through the thickness of his jeans. 

He can barely hear your wrecked voice over the sound of his jeans rubbing over you and the couch rocking against the wooden floors.

“Wait.” 

His hips stutter to a stop, “Wait?” Miguel's eyes look worried as he searches your face, wondering if something went wrong.

“I-I just want more.” You bite your lip nervously as you stare back at him, feeling guilty that you scared him.

The tension in his body slacks quickly, like cool water rushing down his back. “More?”

You nod sheepishly, “Uh-huh.” 

He climbs off of you and kneels on the floor to your side, “Ok, can you show me?” His voice is soft and patient as he speaks to you.

He watches as you shove your hips upwards to tug off your shorts before throwing them to the side. You do the same with your tank top, then settle back into the couch cushions.

Your legs squeeze together as your sensitive nipples tighten when exposed to the cool air. You look over at Miguel who’s admiring your bare body next to you, “You too.” He immediately pulls off his shirt and shoves down his jeans before rejoining you. 

Miguel kneels on the couch and pushes your legs up to reveal your dripping pussy, leaking messily from your rutting session a few minutes ago. He slaps himself over your warmth, spreading your slick over your cunt and watching it drip down to your ass.

“Such a pretty pussy.”

Before you know what’s happening, he positions himself against your entrance and tries to push into your cunt, tip slowly slipping into you with ease. He groans as your cunt instinctively sucks him in, walls fluttering as he begins to stretch you. 

 “No–wait, that’s not what we’re doing!” You simultaneously scoot away and squeeze your legs together once you catch on to what’s happening. 

“What-”

“Outside, Mig, remember? Only outside.” You push up and lean against the couch arm, hair poofed adorably around you. “Here, I’ll show you. Lay down where I was.” You direct, moving off the couch to give him enough room.

“Okay.” He takes your place, cock bobbing with his movements as it stays desperately hard for you. You bite your lip as your eyes trace the happy trail that graces his lower stomach. God, he's delicious.

You straddle yourself over his hips, admiring how delectable he looks below you, hot and ready for you to climb on. He watches you with anticipation as you position yourself his erection that rests against his stomach. 

His breath hitches when you sit your full weight onto him, the pressure makes him throb against the seam of your cunt. You experimentally rub yourself against the silken skin of his cock, barely holding yourself up on your knees to make it easier to move. He groans as you spread your warmth over his cock and the bottom of his muscled torso. 

“So wet for me, baby.” He looks up at you with heavy eyes, his top lip barely covering his protruded fangs. His hand squeezes the top of your thigh when you lock eyes.

A small piece of your hair sways over his forehead with each movement of your hips. As you grind over him, the head of his cock nudges delectably against your clit causing you to clench around nothing every time it hits you.

You pathetically puff out breaths as your stomach tightens in heat, eyes already threatening to roll to the back of your head. Lewd wet sounds lick between your bodies as you fluidly slick yourself against him.

Your thighs shake as you get closer to the edge, hips slowing down as the white-hot pleasure ripples through your body. Miguel licks his lips and takes initiative, canting his hips upwards in sync with yours, slipping himself more firmly against you.

He pulls your arms off of his chest and gathers them behind your back. Your spine arches prettily for him, ass stuck out behind you. In this position, you’re forced to surrender yourself to every push of his hips and slip of his cock.

It’s electrifying. You cry out when your orgasm pulls you under its firey wave. Your thighs clench around his hips as your body trembles above him. The sparks refused to flicker off as Miguel continues to rut against you, body tenses as he meets his end as well.

He thrusts one final glide of his cock through the soaked petals of your cunt before abruptly pushing into you, overwhelming your senses with the painfully exquisite sensation of being stretched all at once.

He growls as your warmth wraps around him, fluttering prettily as he shoves himself deep inside.

He stutters inside of you, pushing himself incredibly deep inside of you as he cums and cums, filling you to the brim. A satisfying warmth pools at the bottom of your stomach as he paints your walls, soothing your weak body as it recovers from your orgasm.

You collapse onto Miguel's body, ignoring how unbearably hot it is as your bodies try to cool down. His heart beats heavily next to yours and everything slows down. He hums under you, gently stroking a hand against your back .

You don’t know how long you lay there, enjoying each other’s company, but you're half awake by the time Miguel gets up, with you, boneless, in his arms. 

“How does a bath sound, mi vida?” You lazily look up at him as he carries you to the bathroom with ease. His voice is still so...sultry.

“Am just I weak or something?” Your voice rasps harshly, “How are you not fighting the urge to pass out right now?”

He nuzzles his face into your body, pecking a kiss against your sweat-stick throat. “I could actually go again if you'd like..."

[seeingivy]

late night talking

phd!student eren x f!reader

**part of my canary mate fic

--

[lizontopoftheworld]: do you ever think we’ve met in real life? 

[busstopbilly]: I’d like to think that I would remember that. 

[lizontopoftheworld]: what do you mean…

[busstopbilly]: I mean, I’d like to think that I would just be able to tell if I saw you out there in the real world. 

[lizontopoftheworld]: so you’re delulu…got it…

[busstopbilly]: Delulu? 

[lizontopoftheworld]: fun way to say delusional 

[busstopbilly]: It’s not delusional to think I would be able to recognize you. 

[lizontopoftheworld]: you don’t even know what i look like 

[busstopbilly]: Are you so materialistic? Is that the only way people can recognize one another?

[lizontopoftheworld]: are you insinuating that there is some alternative way unbeknownst to me that people can recognize one another? 

[lizontopoftheworld]: i must be living under a rock! 

[busstopbilly]: Or you’re just feeble minded. 

[lizontopoftheworld]: feeble is crazy btw

[busstopbilly]: :) 

[busstopbilly]: I like to keep you on your toes. 

[lizontopoftheworld]: OK OH WISE ONE. tell me how you would be able to recognize me with the very limited information you have… 

[busstopbilly]: Limited? I like to think I know you very well. You and all of your deep dark secrets. 

[lizontopoftheworld]: always one for theatrics…

[busstopbilly]: Nothing as theatrical as buying a replacement of the class fish you killed on the week you were supposed to take care of it.

[lizontopoftheworld]: THAT WAS ONE TIME OH MY FUCKING GOD 

[busstopbilly]: Are you insinuating that murder is okay if it was only one time? :)

[lizontopoftheworld]: im just a girl…

[busstopbilly]: I’d be able to recognize you if I saw you out in the real world because I’m pretty sure we knew each other in another life. 

[lizontopoftheworld]: :O 

[lizontopoftheworld]: :OO 

[lizontopoftheworld]: :OOOOOOOOOOOOOO

[busstopbilly]: Are you broken? 

[lizontopoftheworld]: ONLY MY HEART :((((

[busstopbilly]: Are you deflecting because you don’t want to say something serious in response? 

[lizontopoftheworld]: :/

[lizontopoftheworld]: ://////////

[busstopbilly]: Are you scared to say it back because I make you nervous? 

[lizontopoftheworld]: >:(((((((

[lizontopoftheworld]:: >:(((((((((((((((

[busstopbilly]: Liz. 

[busstopbilly]: Come on.

[busstopbilly]: Tell me what you really think. 

[lizontopoftheworld]: …

[busstopbilly]: It’s just me, you know. 

[lizontopoftheworld]: sometimes you say things that i’ve thought for a long time really out loud 

[lizontopoftheworld]: i live in my own head sometimes, so much so, that i think that most of the things that i think are outrageous or ostentatious – a complete figment of my imagination that i’ve just made up. 

[lizontopoftheworld]: that could never be real. 

[lizontopoftheworld]: it just throws me off when they’re coming out of your metaphorical online mouth. 

[lizontopoftheworld]: …it reminds me i’m not crazy…because you think those things too… 

[busstopbilly]: :) 

[busstopbilly]: Maybe that does make you crazy. But maybe the same type of crazy as me.

[lizontopoftheworld]: well either way it’s very comforting

[lizontopoftheworld]: i feel so out of place…almost all the time…it’s nice to know sometimes that it’s not an original thought…that other people do think like that too 

[busstopbilly]: So you think we’ve met in another life? 

[lizontopoftheworld]: ding ding ding 

[busstopbilly]: What do you think we’re doing there? 

[lizontopoftheworld]: something cool 

[busstopbilly]: I’d be a soccer player. 

[lizontopoftheworld]: didn’t u tell me a story about how u literally used to cheat in pe when you were in grade school?

[busstopbilly]: Hence the alternate universe. 

[busstopbilly]: Either way, I think we’d be the same as we are now. 

[lizontopoftheworld]: such a romantic notion for your canary mate. you know we only know each other bc of an algorithm right…

[busstopbilly]: Wrong. 

[busstopbilly]: Defeats the whole purpose of the “we knew each other in another life” notion. 

[busstopbilly]: We were always going to meet. It just happened to be an algorithm this time around. 

[lizontopoftheworld]: you know, you kind of get delirious around three am… 

[busstopbilly]: You love it. 

[lizontopoftheworld]: :DDDDD 

[busstopbilly]: Good night, Liz. 

[lizontopoftheworld]: good night billy boy!!!! <3 

--

“i hooked up with my canary mate.” 

you feel your eyes widen, as you shoot out of your desk chair and peek over the little divider, to where jean – one of the fellow phd students in your computational neuroscience program – is chatting with connie. 

you must make some measure of a strange noise because they look over at you, connie giving you a sweet wave, while jean smirks. 

“hear something that tickled your fancy, newbie?” jean asks. 

“you hooked up with your canary mate?” you whisper. 

“i wish i had a canary mate. we could have started a pyramid scheme together or something.” connie states. 

shiganshina university has a weird set of rituals that the student body engages in. dipping into each of the fountains during finals week to get good grades on your exams, eating breakfast at midnight the first day of classes in the student union, and an algorithm that finds you the perfect friend. 

canary mates. an old student in the computational data sciences had made it for his thesis project, a preliminary algorithm for a dating website, that would pair incoming students with someone they would be compatible with as friends. 

you filled out a simple survey – questions ranging from your favorite color to your philosophies on life. and at the end of it, all of the answers were scored and fed through an algorithm that found you your perfect pair, a fellow shiganshina canary to be friends with.

the usernames remained anonymous to protect participant privacy, though most people tended to reveal themselves upon first message – just to promptly never talk to one another again. 

unless you’re jean. you hook up with them instead. or unless you’re you – because you’ve been talking to your canary mate every day for the past nine months now. 

“they don’t do that for the staffers?” you ask. 

connie is the administrative assistant at the research lab you matched into with the program – the shiganshina interdisciplinary brain research group. he was a recent graduate from marley technical institute with a masters in business administration, who assisted with all the clerical aspects of the lab. 

you appreciated connie more than most people. only because the soft skills and things like that were lost to you – the type of things that you can’t google, like etiquette with visiting professors and why you need to network on linkedin — were always the ones connie remembered to explain to you, without shame.

you have a hunch that erwin had asked him to do it. he was freakishly intuitive in that way, though you suppose that’s what made him perfect for his job as the director of the lab. it was part of the job description – reading people, maximizing almost every thing for the best gain– which in his case, was making sure that his phd students knew what they were doing. 

“staffers don’t deserve sexy online hookups apparently.” connie states. 

a few feet way, you hear an irritated sigh, your line of vision treating you to the most annoying sight known to man – eren jaeger setting up for the day at his desk. 

“you know, one day you’ll get reported to hr connie.” eren states. 

“jean, are you going to report me to hr?” connie asks. 

jean shakes his head. 

“y/n, are you going to report me to hr?” 

you smirk.

“not without a big fat kiss on your cheek to go with it!” you joke, earning you a laugh from the two of them. 

eren rolls his eyes.

“what the hell are you even talking about?” eren asks, setting his bag down as he pulls up the stand up desk and starts connecting his displays. 

“jean was talking about how he hooked up with his canary mate.” you state. 

eren’s eyes widen. 

“you did what?” eren asks. 

jean nods, but not before immediately straightening up against the wall and sheepishly rubbing his hand around the back of his neck – a natural response to the sight of mikasa suddenly appearing at his side. 

mikasa ackerman was quiet, a cold kind of pretty, and the sweetest lab coordinators that you had ever worked with. she was one of the applicants in the previous round of phd students – and unfortunately, the only one from her close knit group who didn’t make it. 

eren, jean, armin, annie, and sasha were all members of the bridge program that linked with the neuroscience undergraduate degree. mikasa was apparently one of the brightest members of the bunch, but for some reason, wasn’t accepted when time came around. she was taking the year to pad her resume before she tried again.

“what are we talking about?” mikasa asks. 

“about how jean ho-” connie starts. 

“nothing! we aren’t talking about anything mikasa! how was your weekend?” jean asks. 

“it was great, jean! thank you for asking.” she responds.

“he was talking about how he hooked up with his canary mate that he got matched with when he linked with the graduate programs.” eren states, not even stopping to look up from his computer. 

you watch as jean visibly pinkens at the blunt nature of eren’s words and don’t miss how mikasa’s eye twitches in the slightest, before she presses her laptop closer to her chest. and you’re sure it stings – knowing the guy you liked hooked up with someone else or perhaps even worse, being reminded that you were left out of yet another thing, even something as arbitrary as a canary mate – because you weren’t the only one who was accepted into the program. 

the group of them awkwardly shuffle away, connie and mikasa heading over to their meeting in the fishbowl conference room, as jean walks over to the mri imaging room to test out the equipment. and you spare eren one glance – one glance – before he makes his very first irritating comment of the day. 

“do you have something you want to say to me, newbie?” 

you shake your head. 

“i can tell you do. so why don’t you just come out and say it?” eren asks, tone scathing. 

you brush the lint off the hem of your skirt. eren always seemed to intrude into space like that. if erwin thought that connie needed to teach you the sleight of hands to interacting with people in a professional setting, you figured that eren would probably need some lessons in keeping his thoughts to himself. 

“i thought that was a little bit mean.” you state. 

eren scoffs. 

“they obviously like each other. and it was clear that he didn’t want her to know, so maybe you should have just kept it to yourself like connie and i did.” 

eren averts his gaze from his computer for the first time, piercing green eyes that meet yours, but not as piercing as his words. 

“you don’t think mikasa deserves to know if they’re going to talk to each other?” 

you scoff. 

“they aren’t even together yet. he would obviously divulge that eventually if they were talking for real. you’re kind of nipping them in the bud before they can even get there.” you state. 

“why do you talk like that?” 

you feel your throat dry. 

“like what?” 

“the words you use. kind of…maybe…. you don’t sound very confident when you speak.” he responds, his voice flat.

eren hits a nerve. he hits a nerve like he always does, in the way that only he can, and it’s infuriating. so infuriating that you feel the need to fight back. 

it had been like that since you met him. on the very first day, you walked up to him – the only person in the phd program that you really knew, because he was the son of world famous neuroscientist grisha jaeger – and introduced yourself. and ever since then, he was always keen on showing you exactly who he was – an egotistical prick. 

it drove you crazy. everything about him drove you crazy. 

 “we can’t all be as arrogant as you, eren.” you state. 

eren’s eye twitches. 

“and we can’t all be pushovers like you either, l/n.” 

you roll your eyes, dragging your feet open to the cubicle as you quickly click to the open tab, fingers coming in fast and hot as you type, a burning sensation tingling in the back of your eyes. 

[lizontopoftheworld]: I’M GOING TO KILL HIM 

[lizontopoftheworld]: I’M GOING TO TAKE ONE OF THE SYRINGES IN THE LAB AND SHOVE IT INTO HIS EYE SOCKET TILL HE BLEEDS 

[lizontopoftheworld]: STUPID ARROGANT PRICK IM LITERALLY GOING TO BE ON THE NEWS 

[busstopbilly]: Good morning, Liz. 

[busstopbilly]: What a way to start the day. What happened? 

[lizontopoftheworld]: STUPID FUCKING IDIOT ANNOYING GUY I TOLD U ABOUT JUST HAD TO BE A FUCKING PRICK THIS EARLY IN THE MORNING 

[lizontopoftheworld]: HE WAS JUST DOUBTING ME LIKE HE ALWAYS DOES BC I KNOW HE DOESN’T WANT ME TO BE HERE OR HE THINKS I DON’T DESERVE TO BE 

[busstopbilly]: Hey. 

[busstopbilly]: You deserve to be there. What the prick thinks doesn’t matter. 

[lizontopoftheworld]: i’m so frustrated I WILL KILL HIM 

[busstopbilly]: I fear you’re incriminating me as an accomplice to murder. 

[busstopbilly]: So very flattered I’ve been chosen as your closest confidante. 

[busstopbilly]: I know that you think he has something over you because his family has ties to research and has been in the field for years. 

[busstopbilly]: That doesn’t make him better than you. 

[busstopbilly]: I’d argue that the spot that you hold is way more important. You actually bring something new to the table. 

[lizontopoftheworld]: yeah yeah i know i worked to be here im capable blah blah blah blah 

[lizontopoftheworld]: just doesn’t feel that way sometimes 

[lizontopoftheworld]: i guess i’ll just put my head down and do the work to prove myself 

[busstopbilly]: That’s my girl. 

[busstopbilly]: You’ve got this. 

[lizontopoftheworld]: i hope ur morning is better than mine…

[busstopbilly]: Quite the contrary. I fear I was told only a few minutes prior that the devil himself will be making an appearance today. 

[lizontopoftheworld]: NO WAY

[lizontopoftheworld]: YOUR DAD? 

[busstopbilly]: The one and only. 

[lizontopoftheworld]: you’ll get through it. it’s just one day. 

[busstopbilly]: Quite hopeful of you. We’ll see how it goes. 

[lizonstopoftheworld]: HE WON’T STOP U DOCTOR BILLY!!!! 

[lizontopoftheworld]: MEDICAL DOCTOR BILLY 

it’s the first time eren’s smiled since his early meeting with hange at the coffee shop. he should have known something was strange from the start – his weekly meeting being pushed up to the start of the day, being offered free coffee – sweetness like that only came from hange when they thought it was something that was warranted. 

and seeing his dad was no easy feat. unfortunately for him, word had somehow gotten out to his dad that he had deflected to a clinical study with the shiganshina medical school neurosurgery department – something that warranted him coming all the way down here to discuss it with him personally. 

he was anticipating the same problem as usual. another check in to make sure that eren was staying focused on his career – his career in academia – and that he was holding up to his family name. he came from a family of sixth generation neuroscientists and he wasn’t going to be the one to break the streak now. 

which killed his dreams of being a medical doctor in his tracks. all of the stuff that he got to do in undergrad was afforded to him because his dad thought it was just a phase – him working as a first responder, volunteering at free health clinics – before he was harshly put in line at the end of his senior year. 

it was looking rather bleak a year into his phd. but hange was trying to help him as much as they could. 

[busstopbilly]: Funny. 

[lizontopoftheworld]: :PPPPP 

[lizontopoftheworld]: you will do what you want to do or so help me GOD. 

[busstopbilly]: Not really how that works, Liz. 

[lizontopoftheworld]: eh. 

[lizontopoftheworld[: i’ll get you there >:) 

[lizontopoftheworld]: you will be a doctor, billy. 

[busstopbilly]: You’re very hopeful, Liz. I like that about you. 

[lizontopoftheworld]: MARRY ME! 

--

“what did you do as an undergrad for research?” gabi asks. 

every week, there are two mandatory in person days that everyone has to be present in the laboratory. monday for lab meetings, where everyone cycles through presenting their research or relevant papers, and wednesdays, for team building lab lunches. 

part of levi and hange’s grant money is allocated to pay for the lunches every week, as part of team building and more casual discourse about what everyone was working on. 

“armin, eren, and i actually did research here. armin and i had been here since our sophomore year but eren joined us when he was a senior.” mikasa states. 

“we actually used to be in your spot, if that gives you any hope.” armin offers, giving her and falco a smile. 

falco and gabi are the only two undergraduate students who are involved over the summer. there’s usually a set of five or six undergraduate students that assist during the calendar year, but the two of them had applied and been selected to partake in a competitive summer research fellowship, which afforded you their presence now. 

falco was going to be assisting you on the magnetic stimulation project that you were working on; you had taken on mentoring him, alongside levi, for the past few months in preparation for the fellowship and his eventual application to a phd program at the end of the year. he was a sweet kid, one that very hauntingly reminded you of yourself, and in a weird way – it almost made you determined to see him succeed. 

gabi was working with eren on the new clinical study that he was going to be doing under hange, since she had eventual goals to pursue a career in clinical psychology. she was a sneaky applicant, meaning she didn’t come into it as prepared as falco. and unfortunately enough, eren left her to her own devices to figure things on her own a lot of the time – and you appreciated that she had yet to be discouraged. she was determined to prove herself. 

“i used to do research under nanaba in the maternal health lab. i spent all of undergrad doing a research study on the neurological changes that different birth control brands cause.” sasha states. 

sasha is the person that you feel closest to in the lab, besides maybe connie. she was definitely the most personable of the group – the most of them being a little more awkward and reserved – and she was always willing to help you out when you needed it. 

she was a big personality. and you’re sure that it’s the part of you deep down that’s messed up – that gets jealous, that doesn’t work like a real person – but there are rare moments throughout the day that she makes you feel small. and consequently, disgusting, because you’re unsure how someone sweet could bring out something so sour in you. 

it said more about you than it did about her.

“annie and i worked with shadis over in the physical therapy department. they worked with technical eeg sometimes, which was mainly what we were focused in since we knew we wanted to come here eventually.” jean states. 

falco looks over at you, offering you a sympathetic smile, as gabi turns over to you, eyes expectant. 

“and you?” gabi asks. 

you shove your fork deep into the leaves of the salad. 

“i didn’t go here for undergrad. you wouldn’t know where i came from.” you state.

gabi gives you a nod, as she dives deep into asking sasha about her experiences with working under nanaba, as you feel your cheeks glowing under the heat. you weren’t embarrassed of it – in fact, very determined to not be embarrassed of it – but sometimes it felt like a stark reminder that you were the only one who got to the same place in a different way. 

you quickly type underneath the table. 

[lizontopoftheworld]: do you ever feel like you’ll never belong, no matter what you do? 

three feet way, at the very end of the table, eren’s having the most uncomfortable conversation amongst the crowd. nestled in between hange and levi, across from his dad and erwin, his brain feels like it’s heavy. 

“i just don’t understand the direction that we’re taking with his thesis. this doesn’t really match the psychosocial work that he was doing before.” grisha states. 

“he’s just trying something new. it doesn’t have to go in his thesis.” hange offers. 

eren watches as his eye twitches. 

“my fear here is that this will become the main focus of his thesis. i would just prefer for him to be focusing on his goal here.” grisha asserts. 

eren watches as levi clenches his jaw. 

“it’s a holistic program, dr. jaeger. we would be doing your son a disservice, as a researcher and neuroscientist, if we kept him so…razor focused on one thing.” levi responds. 

“i don’t think eren is even qualified to work with these patient populations. he doesn’t have a license or the experience.” grisha states. 

“we have the tools to help him here. that’s a non-issue.” hange offers. 

“we appreciate the advisement and the direction, dr. jaeger, and we will keep you updated as things will progress. eren is very bright and motivated, that much is sure, and i can promise you myself that he will be just as successful and fulfilled as you would like him to be.” erwin offers. 

it was ironic. but eren knew that erwin was just playing to the role that he had to play here – being the diplomat that he was trained to be. and while the words were laced with politeness, the message was there – that his call was final. and while erwin’s direction alway seemed to place people in the most ideal situations, eren always felt like he was going to get the short end of the deal wherever he went. 

he got a clinical study, but his dad will stop him from pursing it too much. the clinical study is close to what he wants to do, but not exactly. he’ll spend his entire life three steps behind where he wants to go and unable to do anything to stop it. 

he looks at his phone under the table and it softens the terseness in his chest. 

[busstopbilly]: All the time, Liz. 

he watches the little typing bubbles appear, before fighting the urge to smile fully. 

[lizontopoftheworld]: <3 

--

“do you have a minute?” 

you look up from the lines of code to find levi – your thesis advisor and mentor – peering over the wall of your cubicle, eyes expectant as they wait for an answer. you give him a nod, following his gesture, as you make the way down to the office. 

levi’s stoic. very stoic and sometimes you don’t know how to act. but in a weird way, sometimes that’s what you appreciate about him – that it doesn’t take a lot of effort, that you don’t have to rehearse what it is that you’re going to say to him for small talk in the mirror, because you can almost count on the fact that he won’t oblige to that anyways. 

hange and eren are at his desk, eyes pouring over a document on eren’s laptop, as you give them a wave and take the seat next to levi. eren swallows hard – and you note that the rims of his eyes are red – before focusing in on what levi is saying. 

“you do have that experience, right?” levi asks. 

you look over at him, before giving him an awkward smile. 

“sorry, what?” 

“you used to be a behavioral technician, right? back in marley?” levi clarifies. 

“oh! yes, yes, i did. why do you ask?” 

levi nods, before sliding a set of files over to you. 

“eren’s working on a clinical study. we talked with the administrators at the hospital and the college about it and they’d prefer if someone who had experience working with similar patient populations was working on this with him.” 

you open up the file to see the letters in bright bold lettering, staring back at you. and it makes your throat itch a little bit, as you look back up at levi. 

“right, so what do i need to do?” you ask. 

“you’ll just accompany eren when he needs to converse with patients, at the minimum. you’re welcome to take on more of a lead role with eren if you would like.” 

you look over at eren, who looks deeply unhappy that he has to succumb to getting help from the likes of someone like you, and it’s quite possibly the only reason that you decide you’re going to do it. 

and it irritates eren. irritates eren that his dad was able to butt in enough to convice everyone that he needed a babysitter, and that he’d need to be around you more than the allocated two  hours that he saw you every week.  

“of course.” you offer. 

and at the end of the very long day, when eren can finally quietly drive home and settle into his bed, he indulges in the only part of the day that he can enjoy. the one part of his day where he isn’t grisha jaeger’s son or a phd student or a neuroscientist – he was just eren. or billy, if he was going to focus on semantics.

[busstopbilly]: Liz. 

[lizontopoftheworld]: no hello? no good evening? no how was your day?

[busstopbilly]: Hello. Good evening. How was your day? 

[lizontopoftheworld]: hi billy boy! good evening to you too <3 my day was dogshit 

[busstopbilly]: Me too. 

[busstopbilly]: Did the prick do anything else? 

[lizontopoftheworld]: not rlly 

[lizontopoftheworld]: i just don’t get why he doesn’t like me and it drives me crazy. i don’t want to assume that it’s because of my background or anything like that, because i can’t fathom that people would actually be like that, but it can’t help but feel that way :/ 

[busstopbilly]: Unfortunately, I think he’s just going to be the first of a very long list of pricks that you meet in academia. 

[lizontopoftheworld]: yeah…just feels really bleak that my parents and i like…did so much to get me here and i still won’t ever belong 

[busstopbilly]: You’ll call the shots one day. 

[lizontopoftheworld]: how was the talk with daddy-o

[busstopbilly]: It irritates me that he can weasel his way into everything. I would like to have something that’s just mine. 

[busstopbilly]: Like, when I was in school as a kid, when I was an undergraduate student. Even the friends I had…

[busstopbilly]: I hate that he’s everywhere. 

[lizontopoftheworld]: was ur dad the guy who created the canary mate algorithm 

[busstopbilly]: No. 

[lizontopoftheworld]: boom. you have something that’s just yours. 

[lizontopoftheworld]: me. 

[lizontopoftheworld]: ;) 

eren feels his cheeks blush an embarrassing shade of red.

[busstopbilly]: Quit flirting. 

[busstopbilly]: I’m going to fall in love with you. 

you bite down hard into your cheek, before turning over in your sheets to the cool side of your bed. because this was definitively the best part of the day – the late night talking that you indulged in. because it was the one place where you weren’t you, where he couldn’t hold anything about your background or your past against you, and had to take what you were at face value. you were just you. 

[lizontopoftheworld]: that was the plan all along :)

--

next part linked here

an: sorry ive been going through a lot and haven't written stuff lately. I actually was being randomly very critical of how this came out and just decided to yolo and post what I have

lmk if you want to be on the taglist!

[gremlingottoosilly]

Lego still not sponsoring me (dark!Konig x fem!Reader)

Konig is a nerd who needs to get sprayed with water for being a fucking creep. You're an adorable cashier at the Lego Store in Berlin who doesn't know any better and is too nice to lose. He will have you. Mostly because he wants someone to do his Lego sets with.

Details count: 2922 AO3 TW and Tags: Dub-con/Non-con, age gap, size difference, kidnapping, awkward colonel Konig, nerd Konig, hurt/comfort, Konig's POV(mostly), awkward German, yandere Konig.

You didn’t want to build Millenium Falcon with him. 

You didn’t want to shower or eat, you didn’t want to do anything besides crying, and even though your tears, as he expected, were beautiful and adorable, it was kinda hard for König to take care of your mental and physical needs while he was rock hard from watching you cry so sweetly. 

König is patient, kind, and a model citizen through and through. Why are you upset? He is doing everything he can, just to make you smile! Seriously, Schatzi, the desire to make him as miserable as you possibly can doesn’t make you pretty or cute or even the least bit adorable. Good thing that he is used to feeling sad and kinda of bullied – you’re lucky he doesn’t even try to feel good anymore. Not in his destiny book to live a good life. — I brought food. 

You groan lightly, whimpering somewhere in the corner of his basement. To your justification, his basement is a bit dirty. He forgot to visit the house for months after deployment, which was never enough to fill out the blanks of loneliness in the empty rooms. His dogshits methods of choosing decorations also made the mere existence in the house a hard mission even in itself. He looked at the anime posters in the guest rooms, which made him want to sell the property to anyone willing to pay 50 Euros for the processing fees. The posters(Sword Art Online because why the hell not, he likes cool swords and a power fantasy about a loser getting the chick) and artwork of his queen and savior, The Busty Blond Lady From Fate because, unlike those waifu-obsessed freaks, he did have a life and not enough time to actually remember her name. Something about light sabers. Or cats. — Are you going to kill me? 

He sighs because you sound like a broken record. All the time – the questions about his intentions, like you can’t see the tent in his pants every time you open your eyes, about letting you go, about at least allowing you to text your family that you decided to change your country of residence and would need to revoke your German visa. You’re way more soft than he thought you’d initially be – no fighting, no arguing, just pure terror and desire to die every time his hands brush over you. König is a sweet guy, as sweet as someone like him can be – but he only has a few weeks until his next mission, and even a few days of your moping around is bound to make him not just blue-balled, but also very, extremely, offensively hot-headed. 

He spent two days with you chained up in his basement and, he thinks, that should be enough for foreplay. He is extremely generous and kind – usually, at this point, he’d already start breaking the fingers of whoever poor fuck is his torture victim for the mission. 

— I don’t want to kill you. 

You whimper – somehow, his answer didn’t calm you down. Fucking women and their inability to talk to their kidnappers – he considers spiking your food just this once, so he could have a nice session with your little drunk self and some roofies but, of course, he is a nice guy who brought you takeout in a reheatable container, with a cute plastic fork and some sparkling water in a glass, just so you won’t feel like he is making you eat some garbage. It’s good food, too – he’d love to cook like this, but the heights of his skills are runny eggs and burnt coffee. He hopes you like the Italian because it’s the most inoffensive stuff he could have brought you without resorting to pizza and cup noodles. He will never let you eat cup noodles on his watch. 

— Are you going to rape me? 

He can’t exactly say no because, as a matter of fact, pulling your cute body under his is one of his intentions. He wanted to do it since he was you in this fucking store, but, of course. saying this to a pretty girl is lame. And completely counter-productive. And would make him a villain in your eyes, even though he tries so fucking hard to be a hero. He can make you feel good if you were to just open your pretty legs for him and moan under his tongue – god knows, he wants to make you feel good. He wonders what would it take for him to please you. If he could have a full-time job at this. 

— Nein. Thought I told you already. 

— I don’t…I shouldn’t believe you. 

He shook his head, pushing the plate(he had to go out of his way to actually put the pasta from the tray to a proper plate, enjoy this, woman) towards you. You’re adorable like this – naked, trembling, a bit too weak to actually fight him over not eating anything for the past two days – you’re repeating the same conversation over and over again and König wouldn’t mind living in a groundhog day if the loop would end with his fucking you on that thin mattress each time. 

Speaking of mattresses – he needs to get you a thicker one. 

Speaking of thicker mattresses – he needs to relocate you into his bedroom as soon as possible. 

Speaking of his bedroom – he is fucking bricked. 

— If you don’t trust me, why do you ask? 

You bite your lips. He can see you’re hungry and thirsty – he doesn’t want to forcefully feed you, so, yeah, you better be very hungry very soon. He pushes the plate towards you, hoping you won’t launch it on his head. He survived worse, a 6’4 British dude in a ski mask falling on him with the speed of Brexit, but getting hit by a plate when your angry girlfriend is being an angry girlfriend is…the best thing that could ever happen to him, actually. Gott, he is miserable. 

— I…I don’t know. Don’t want to get killed. 

— I won’t kill you. 

— But you will hurt me. 

— I don’t have to do that, Liebling. 

No, he doesn’t. 

But he sees the way your plushy thighs are squeezing into that tiny corner where your mat is, your squishy body getting all shaky and trembly, your lips in a tight line with tiny blood droplets from biting on them too much – and, by his fucking god, you’re beautiful. He wants to make you wet, to make you squirm, to make you beg and cry for mercy as he pounds into the sweetness of your cunt. He wants to try you on the inside and out, lick you all over from the inside, and then make you lick your love juices from his lips. 

König knows he is hard and can’t really hide it – it’s useless now, really, he is being very nice and considerate to you. Changing your life is hard, especially with how quickly you moved to his place – like a good boyfriend, he should help you adjust. And aid you in recognizing that he is, in fact, your boyfriend and future husband. The perfect partner to ever exist. — What is it? 

— Pasta. It’s…it’s good. Should be good. He is nervous, anxious. Seeing a pretty girl in her natural habitat – a Lego store – is one thing. He was barely able to talk to you properly, especially right after his deployment, where the only female attention he ever got was Roze asking to cover her or additional female soldiers groaning in pain as he stomped them. But you…he shouldn’t be colonel around you – absolutely not. You’re soft and civilian, you’re as polite as a girl in a basement could be, and you deserve to have something nice for once in your life. Licking his lips, König gently picks up a fork and presses a small amount of pasta – rich, creamy, with some nice cheese that smells divine - -against your lips. 

You refuse.

A smart move, he could have poisoned it – so he thinks for a few seconds, staring at you like a smart girlie you are, and then – lifts his hood. If only barely, revealing his scarred chin and bruised lips. The initial swelling after getting his head bumped by a guy who was speaking like an edgy teenager in the Counter-Strike lobby was already gone by the time he managed to get you into his basement – but no amount of rest could hide all other marks from his job. 

Despite being a seasoned mercenary with hundreds of killed targets and completed objectives, he feels…insecure. You’re a nice girl, a good girl, the type that used to look at him with hatred while he was bullied at school. Hatred or pity – but you only look at him with fear, and it cements his understanding that you’re not going to give in to loving him so easily.

König sighs deeply, his lips, curved into that awkward, boyish smile that creeps on his face every time he as much as thinks about you, now transforming into a scowl as you proceed to whimper and try to get lost in the wall behind you. Like he wouldn’t be able to track your scent if you would disappear. He slowly presses his fork towards his mouth, chewing on the food – showing you that it’s not poisoned. 

He smiles again when he sees you slowly parting your lips, expecting him to feed you with less of a fuss. He’d propose something else – maybe even untying your hands and allowing you to actually for yourself, but something in your helpless state made his cock throb in his pants. God, König knows he isn’t his strongest soldier, but could he please make you less adorable? He doesn’t want to push you on your knees and make you suck on him until he whimpers, but the way you lick all of the cheese from your lips and try your best to look presentable in front of him… The process of feeding someone shouldn’t really be sexual, but König gently pushes the hair away from your face and lifts up the fork over and over, sometimes only changing to bring a glass of water to your lips. He can do this all day. Every day. Pleasing you already becomes second nature – and he spends most of his life thinking that the only thing he can take care of is his rifle and a few tortured enemies that need their teeth extracted. You require gentle handling – and he wants nothing more but to give you that. Just…a bit later. Preferably after the already came in your pussy at least two or three times and made you choke on his dick as a little thank-you gift. 

You finish eating after a short while, thanking him for bringing you a napkin to clean your lips. König gently caresses your head, enjoying the sensation of your hair under his palm – it’s like petting a cat. A soft little pet just for him and no one else – if only he could actually bring you to like him. He has a few bond activities in mind, though. — You liked it, ja? 

You lick your lips again, and his breath hitches. This is going to be hard, this is going to be impossible, it’s worse than having to work with high Krueger on a ship that made everyone feel like they were the ones doing crack in the backroom of their makeshift base. 

— I…I did. 

He pets your head again like you’re his pet – and you gently move your head to lean into his touch. Perhaps you’re dumber than he thinks. Or way smarter – a clever strategy to make him relax and nice to you without making him too suspicious. You slowly get back into your corner, but König wouldn’t have any of it – he drags you back by your arm, making you whimper and sob in his hold. It’s bad, he doesn’t want you to squirm from under him as much as you do, but…if you don’t want to be a good girl, he might as well force you to. 

You cry as he pushes you deep into the corner, his hands roaming over your body. Thank god he ripped your clothes before you woke up – now there isn’t anything protecting you from his hands, not even that adorable bra he ripped in pieces because, as much as he loved wearing a uniform with straps and buttons everywhere, he could not figure out how to take this thing off you without breaking it. The last time he was sleeping with a woman, she wore a sports bra that could be taken off easily. It’s your fault that you decided to be more girly, really. Not his. 

His hands cup your breasts roughly. Tugs and twists your nipples, a few shaky moans telling him exactly how sensitive you are – he might not have a girl in a hot minute, too busy with being the best freaking mercenary in the world, but even he knows how to take care of a pretty thing like you. Your tits fit in his hands perfectly, even more, reasons to believe you were just made for him. Not for some lame job at a Lego store counter – you should be waiting on your knees in his bedroom, with your mouth open wide and neat to fit his cock right in. With some sweet things lingering on your tongue as he bullies himself right in, getting what he deserves for protecting peace – and installing violence – while doing his job. He might not be the best freaking guy around, but he deserves something nice. 

He pinches your nipples until they’re firm and swollen, every little cry escaping from your lips is only encouraging him to proceed. Licks on the open skin of your neck until his eneve stubble makes you whimper from how sensitive you are – it should be painful, he thinks, with how bloody the little bite marks from his teeth have become. 

König marks you as thoroughly as possible, smiling each time you cry and beg for him to stop. You’re changing between bad German and good English, between loud cries and small whimpers, which he can’t determine from pleasure to pain. Not like he cares, too determined to make you cry his name – even though you probably don’t know it. All of his desires to claim you taking full power now, not listening to the way you plead with him. Whimper for him. Your skin is a clear canvas, allowing him to paint you with hickeys and marks, enjoying the little blood droplets covering your collarbones. 

— Quiet, please. Don’t…don’t move, Schatzi. I don’t want to hurt you. 

— Please, please, just…anything but… — Won’t take long. Promise. 

— I don’t want to- — Quiet. I know you don’t, Liebling. Just…Scheisse, you…fuck. 

— Stop! — Can’t. I apologize, Schatzen. Relax for me, ja?

He whispers, he whimpers, he is almost out of his mind when he can finally put his tongue on your swollen nipples. For some weird, depraved reason, he almost expects the milk to start flowing from your chest, allowing him to drink up as much as he wants. If he could get you pregnant, he might enjoy it for a few months – although having a kid on his hip isn’t as fun as it could have. He tried to babysit Hutch kids once when he brought them to base – and it was the worst fucking day of his life. Besides, little children can’t be around Legos – it's already a deal breaker for someone like him. 

Speaking of legos…

You wiggle in his grasp, as good as you can with your hands still in the handcuffs – he should give you that one, at least you aren’t just laying lifelessly in front of him. At least you’re putting up a fight. At least he doesn’t feel too bad about restraining you without proper reasoning. You lick your lips again, that cute tongue of yours going over all the bite marks. You take a deep breath, shaking in his hold. God, he can just look in your face the whole day – barely knows how to handle himself around you. — I…I thought you wanted to…build this set with me? Smart girl. Way smarter than he gave you credit for – you know how to make him stop in his tracks and finally look at you differently. Maybe, you’re too good for him. Maybe, he doesn’t really care about that. Millennium Falcon, still sitting in the box – König hoped you’d start slowly putting it together but, seemingly, you need a bit of encouragement. The only thing that could tug him away from your breasts is the expensive set sitting just next to him. 

Might start bonding with you as well. He tugs away from your nipples with a loud pop, an obnoxiously wet sound emerging as a thin line of saliva connects your breasts and his tongue. You whimper when he smiles, that scarred face of his twisting in a huge grin. Knows he’s not the most charming person around, but it’s not like you have any choice now – not with the limited options he gave you. Like a good girl, you’d probably pick doing Lego Sets with him than taking his cock in that tight pussy of yours. He’d be satisfied with any outcome. — J…ja. I’d like that.  He has to give this one to you – you really know how to get a man going.

Bu building this insane set with him, that is.

[icallhimjoey]

Here’s an idea: You’re out with Joe, and a couple of buddies. Joe’s immersed in a conversation but absentmindedly playing with your fingers. You notice. Maybe think of other soft shit he does unconsciously. Pure softness.

just... i know who you are, and you need to fuck all the way off, because how DARE you Wordcount: 2.2K

---

Love Languages

The best chats always happen at night. 

“Hey... hey Joe,” 

In bed, in the dark.

“Hmm?” 

When you’ve just laid down and turned the lights off and you’ve already kissed and said good night. When you’re meant to get comfortable, close your eyes and fall asleep. When there’s an alarm already set and when you’re not meant to be chatting. 

But you lead busy lives. 

These moments in bed are the most silent, undisturbed, and private moments you’ve got. When you’re alone, phones face down on bedside tables, and there’s no media to distract you from each other, darkness only fuelling the honesty.  

“Joe,” 

“Mmhmm,” 

You don’t fall into conversation every night. But when you do, they’re the best chats.  

“What do you think your love language is? Or mine?”  

Joe groans softly and rolls onto his back, eyes still closed, and he takes a moment to think as he inhales deeply. 

You’re on your stomach, facing him, both arms folded close to your body, hands underneath your pillow, and not tired at all. 

“It’s um...” Joe rubs a hand across his forehead, and for a short moment you think you’re annoying him. That he just wants to sleep and wants to be left alone. But then he says, “Yours is taking ugly pictures of me.”  

You immediately giggle, hiding your face into your pillow.  

“Ones where my hair looks fucking awful, and you’re not,” Joe stops to sigh, pretends to be all annoyed, then continues, “You’re not even taking ‘em, you’re finding them online and then save them onto your phone, I think that’s,” Joe breaks, can’t help but laugh himself now too. 

“Stop,” you try, grinning as you roll onto your side. “That’s not what I mean.”  

“No, I know, but I think that should be one of them. Because that’s definitely yours.” 

“No, but I mean from the–” you are about to delve in, list the five love languages, fingers at the ready for visual counting. But Joe interjects.

“That’s yours.” He says matter-of-factly, cutting you off.

“All right, thanks. Good night,” you pretend to roll over to go to sleep, and in turn make Joe laugh loudly.  

“No, okay. All right. What are they again? These love languages you speak of...” 

You’ve rolled back in an instant and feel like you’re a teenage girl at a sleep over, softly explaining the concept of love languages. The topic hasn’t just randomly popped up for you – you’ve been thinking about Joe’s love language all night. Or, well, love languages. Plural. You’re convinced there’s several. All of them maybe even.

Earlier that evening, when you went out for some drinks – just the quick one, Joe’d said, but it kind of turned into a slower three, maybe four drinks sort of situation – was when you’d started thinking about it.

Joe had been talking to a friend, a story you’d already heard, opinions shared that you already knew, so you weren’t really listening. Weren’t really participating in the conversation. Gave you the time to look around a second. To observe for a moment.

And Joe’s a fidgeter, you know that. Especially when surrounded by others, like right then, and evidently so.

You saw how he plucked at his jeans. How he kept playing with his sleeve. With his rings. How he kept slowly twisting the drink that was on the table in front of him. Kept rubbing at his chin and his cheeks. How his index finger scratched at the skin beside his thumbnail.

You’d only folded your hand over his to make him stop.

Without even breaking eye-contact with his friend, he moved his fingers to intertwine with yours and then just held your hand a second.

Then, he started scratching that same finger at your skin, and you’d tried to use your fingers to still his once more.

It worked.

Sort of.

It made him release your hand from his grip, but then instead, grabbed you by the wrist and held your hand there, on his lap, face neutral and attention not wavering from his friend.

His other hand found your rings to twist, your palm to softly move finger tips across, and your nails to push his pads under.

Touch.

It felt so obvious then that touch was Joe’s love language. He was always so tactile. Always reaching out, grabbing hold of you wherever and then holding on for however long you’d let him.

If that was a knee, then it was a knee. And if that was a foot, then it was a foot.

More often than not it was a hand though. A hand that got taken hold of.

It wasn’t unusual to wake up with a hand that curled around your neck. With an arm that rested across your collarbones, or had snuck under your T-shirt and splayed out on your back. With fingers that wrapped around a wrist, or the back of his hand that rested against your cheek.

Joe’s love language had to be touch.

“I think yours is touch.” you say softly, and you can see how Joe blinks a few times. Seems to think it over for a second, then raises both his hands to look at. Or to show you. Either way.

“I don’t think so?”

Um.

Excuse him.

What does he mean he doesn’t think so?

“I’m not touching you right now, am I?” he clarifies, and you scoff as you wiggle your leg that he keeps sandwiched in between his.

“I think this counts as touching,”

“That���s just,” Joe huffs, “That’s just me helping you out because you get cold feet.”

And it’s so silly, because it makes you laugh as you try to pull your leg out from in between his knees, but Joe just clamps down and fights against you. Uses his fingers to prod you in the ribs to make you laugh louder until you relax.

You know it’s touch.

But, what if it isn’t?

It could be gift giving too.

Not big gestures. No insane meaningful you-mentioned-months-ago-you-really-liked-this-diamant-ring-so-here-you-go sort of gift giving.

More the, I-got-myself-a-bottle-of-water-and-got-you-a-yorkie-because-you-like-those sort of gift giving.

Or the, I-got-my-dad-a-nice-bottle-of-wine-and-decided-to-get-you-one-too gift that he would then casually leave in your fridge.

Just little things that showed you that there were moments in the day where he thought of you.

And you had to stop telling Joe to surprise you when he asked if you needed anything from the shop, because the couple of times you had done just that, he’d just gotten everything he’d seen that he thought you’d like.

“Joe this is… this is just a full bag of ice cream?”

“Yes. And drinks.” he’d said as he let his body curl around you, arms strongly around your waist, chin planted on your shoulder.

You peeked into the bag and moved some things aside to have a better look.

“You got me- what the... you got me a whole bag of ice cream and alcohol…”

And he’d just shrugged a little sheepishly because, yea, he had. Because those were the things you liked, weren’t they? The premixed gin & tonic cans. The Häagen-Dazs caramel biscuit and cream pints.

Unbelievable.

But, could that count as acts of service? Because you’d asked him to surprise you, and just to satisfy your want for something unexpected from him, he’d gone and done just that for you... right?

Or did acts of service only count when you didn’t ask for them?

Like when Joe would see how you’d already curled yourself up into the corner of the sofa, all comfortable underneath a throw-blanket, phone in hand, but no mug of tea on the side table.

He’d just make you one then.

And exactly how you liked it too.

Would even silently take the empty mug after you’d finished it and make you a second one. Seal it off with a squeeze of your shoulder and a kiss on top of your head.

Sometimes it’d be larger stuff, like that one time he’d made you cry when you’d walked into your flat after work, expecting it to be in the messy state you’d left it in the night before. But when you’d left for work, Joe’d still been in bed, and before he’d walked out the door, he’d made sure to tidy the whole place.

He’d not done it right. Of course not. There were still things he’d misplaced that you considered lost, vanished into the ether.

But the fact that he’d put the effort in?

You walked in that day and immediately burst into tears. Had left him a crying voicemail in which you swore at him, called him all kinds of names and finished with a much softer and mumbled “I love you.”

Joe had just responded to it by sending a heart emoji and then that made you cry even more.

Idiot.

You knew your love language probably wasn’t words of affirmation. Obviously. Unless calling someone a dick for doing something nice counted as such.

Joe’s probably wasn’t words of affirmation either.

Although, sometimes... he just very randomly would say something so incredibly sincere and heartfelt, it would almost make you uncomfortable, would make you want to shut him up.

Like when you were out to dinner with your parents, and there was a short silence in conversation, like there naturally would be sometimes, and Joe felt it was the perfect time to let you know that he was proud of you, a hand sneaking under the table to squeeze at your thigh.

Or that time when you were sat in a cinema, everyone quiet, the room dark, all eyes on the big screen, and he’d leant closer to whisper how pretty he thought you were.

“Oh my God, shh,” you’d whispered back, already feeling the blush in your cheeks as he used careful fingers to swipe your hair behind your ear.

“Just thought you should know.”

Or sometimes, when you both had a bad day and were being short and snappy with each other, when you would kind of avoid each other, and would be stuck in sour moods, Joe would very suddenly let you know that he did actually still love you.

You once told him off for leaving all of his shit all over the place, nothing of it tidied away, and you had angrily started clearing things yourself. He joined you then, and it was just four angry hands throwing things around without much care until he suddenly stopped and grabbed your face in both his hands. Forced you to look at him, and God, you’d frowned so hard at him. Were so annoyed with him.

But then he had just said, “I love you.”

It made you look away, stubborn enough to want to hold onto the frustration, but Joe’d just followed your eyes, moved around to keep the eye-contact and repeated himself until you begrudgingly said it back.

“I love you too.”

“Good. Now go sit down. This is my mess to tidy.”

Although, all things considered, quality time was probably up there too if you had to choose one.

Like right now.

Chats in bed counted as quality time, surely. Just time spent together with no one else around. Silent conversations whilst faces pressed into soft pillows and bodies tangled under heavy covers.

“I think mine is maybe acts of service,” you say after some thought.

Joe has his eyes closed again and murmurs a soft, “Hmm.” as a hand snakes over your side and pulls you closer. You easily curl into him, nose to nose, breaths shared.

Yea, no. Touch. Joe’s love language is definitely touch.

“Maybe,” he then adds in a whisper.

You wait for him to explain himself, which he does. After a minute.

“Mmmno,” Joe slurs, and you know he’s about to fall asleep, everything slow and heavy, real effort needed to get the words out.

“It’s laughing at inappropriate times and then calling me,” he yawns, then continues, “And then calling me a dickhead.”

You huff a short laugh, and Joe can feel it on his face. He can’t help but smile, because he knows why that’s funny.

You only call him a dickhead when he is the one to make you laugh at inappropriate times.

And you would’ve fought him on it had you had the strength for it still.

But he’s sort of right.

“Hmm,” you hum, agreeing that laughing at his jokes and calling him names probably does count as your love language.

But his is definitely touch.

The proof is right there in the pudding, you think, as you feel a hand sneak under your top just to rest against warm skin for comfort.

And maybe yours is touch too, but on the receiving end.

“Hey,” you whisper so softly, Joe almost doesn't hear it.

He responds with a squeeze of his fingers.

The best chats always happen at night. In bed, in the dark. But this one, spoken in his love language might just surpass them all.

---

The Taglisted

@adoreyouusugar, @alana4610, @ali-in-w0nderland, @alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @barfightzanddiscolightz, @bettyfrommars, @cancankiki, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson, @chrissymjstan, @choke-me-eddie, @demonsanddemogorgons, @did-it-work, @dirtyeddietini, @dylanmunson, @eddies-puppet, @electricmunson, @emma77645, @emmamooney, @everythinghasafacee, @figmentofquinn, @frootvelvet, @ghost-proofbaby, @ghostinthebackofyourhead, @harringtonfan4, @haylaansmi, @jasminearondottir, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @kellyxo1, @kennedy-brooke, @lovelyblueness, @manda-panda-monium, @miserybeans, @nadixq, @notverywise, @pepperstories, @phyllosilicate-s, @roosterisdaddy36, @sherrylyn628, @sidthedollface2, @thebellenouvelle, @thewondernanazombie, @tlclick73, @werepartnersnow, @winterwakesthewolf, @witchwolflea, @yelyahcardella, @yunirgo

taglist currently full, sorry

[the-defendery-189]

ASTROLOGY OBSERVATIONS #1

Venus & Neptune square and aspects in general, especially negative ones - lazy, creative, and inspirational, yet so delusional and preferring their fantasies to the relatity in their relationships and often not even realise they're doing that.

Capricorn and Virgo and Aquarius suns are imo the ones to hate astrology the most, like once they learn there are also bad things about their signs, wow!!!, they immediately hate it and GOOOD, astrology is so TERRIBLE and UNREAL and FAKE... 🙄🙄🙄

Scorpio suns are very hypocritical. Once they say some things but when it's suddenly against them, you're just making it up, it never happened! Also gaslight people and are just generally very proud and irrational when hurt a lot. Blame others a lot. Get all defensive and icky when people actually try to accuse them of something they have done.

Geminis can use fake tears to make you pity them and then act like it's all your fault, anyways.

Also sags use their feelings to try to gaslight people and make them feel sad for them and excuse themselves when they just don't care about them anymore, and just make them seem like it's all the other persons fault, when they'll still go like "its not you, it's me" in the end.

Cancer suns are very quirky in a kind of disgusting way, personally I get very annoyed by them and they still think I think they're oh so cute.

Also cancer men are very manipulative and might want to seem like the prince charming and saviour of all the women. Often matriarchal and want women to have all the power. Also submissive to them in sex and generally want women to be the dominant ones in a relationship. Often grew up in a home without a father, who left them as a child, their mother ruling the household. Might be the youngest sibling. Bullied in school and bullying others, hiding behind the "but I'm a soft boy uwu 😩😣💖💖💖🫀🫀🫀❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥💔💔💔👈👈👈" excuse and trauma that have happened to them. Either metalheads or soft boys uwu discord kittens. Often joke about furries and cringe weird communities and their obsessions. Very chronically online and may have grew up as a YouTube creepy pasta or smth else child.

Also Cancer men - Will pretend to listen to a girl because they know this is what they want --- because of that mother relationship they grew up with. But seriously just not give a fuck for real in their heads, they just know how to be smart and manipulate women. Don't feel comfortable around men BCS of their too-much-comfortable being they happen to switch on when are with women. Often put on a mask in front of men and pretend to be someone who they aren't. Men might think they're cool then, which j really don't understand. Like what???

Also cancer men and women - mommy issues, if it wasn't obvious. Can be very backstabbing and distrustful and think of themselves as mega hot and the best. Often boring texters and talkers. Rant a lot and talk about their hyperfixations and how the world is cruel and shit towards them, but really sometimes you can't help but wonder if they don't deserve it.

Saturn in 7th - Abusive relationships, getting married later in life, husband/wife popular and maybe rich, so if they abuse you, nobody might believe you and everybody will be on their side because they might be just more charismstic than you.

My parents both have this placement and it is HELL.

Lilith in 10th, 1th - Women envy you, hate you and sabotage you, men think you're too dark and edgy for them. People thinking you think you're better then them, this hating you. Being too charismatic for your own good.

Leo Venus - again, as it is with the Saturn in 7th. Could be more popular and overall likeable so if they do terrible things to you, nobody will believe you. Might just be nobody believing me cuz of crazy people around me tho.

Neptune in 1st - people might find you very attractive and ethereal, but also project on you A LOT. Meaning connections and relationships with you are just really difficult to even happen BCS people are always so judging and mean towards you.

Chiron in 1st - Body image issues, partners might abuse you and body shame you, people thinking less of you and in childhood parents often telling you you look ugly. I'm sorry people, I have this placement too tho so its not like I'm shaming you too, just I can feel your pain.

Scorpio ascendant - Too assertive and proud of your uniqueness and too opinionated for your own good. You guys are so clear with your speaking and always speak your mind and aren't fearful to express yourself how you feel and how your think and are always so like colorful with the things you say if you know what I mean. People will despise you for that and try to shut you up. And as somebody who did this to my scorp rising friend before subconsciously,,, yep. It happens even from your trusted friends.

If your moon is in the same sign as your friends/anyone's ascendant... You might feel instantly understood by them. Like I have this with my friend and it's an absolutely great and fantastic relationship, I love her. She absolutely understands me and gets me on a spiritual level - maybe caused by the fact that we have this with Scorpio - like no one else. It's a great relationship, savour this.

If you have a moon sign same as somebody's sun sign, you might enjoy their cooking.

If you have a sun sign same as somebody else's rising, you might try to be more like them and adore them for no reason.

[spencerreidafterhours]

*.~The Best Kept Secret ~.*

•Warning: 18+ (kind of idk) Discussion of smut

• Spencer Reid x Reader

~*Penelope finds out about you and Spencer’s… ‘relationship’

_________________________________________________

The best kept secrets of the Bureau were mainly tucked neatly in the filling cabinets of basements, locked in protected online forms, and in the minds of their loyal employees. But despite the cesspool of government information that swamped the organization, the most shocking had to be that Spencer and Y/N were fucking, at least it was to Penelope.

“I can not believe it, Y/N L/N” Penelope gasped for what had to be the 10th time.

“Why is me having sex such a shock for you Penelope” You laughed equally confused and entertained.

You knew that Penelope was hyper intelligent, but you still couldn’t believe how’d she’d been able to find out about you and Spencer’s relationship. You both made an intentional effort to seem natural around each other and keep things separate. But according to Penelope, it was obvious you guys were doing something. With the quick glances, intense eye contact followed with blushing and the way everything Spencer said all of the sudden became hilarious to you.

“It is not just you having sex, it’s you having sex… with Spencer! You guys are having real sex right, like he’s been inside you”

“Stooppp Penelope!!” You wrenched “Yes, I don’t know how else to say it, we’ve had sex!!”

‘Had sex’ in the since that it has been a weekly ritual that has been going on for a month and will probably continue this upcoming Friday

You still do not really know how this became a regular thing. You guys weren’t friends with benefits, at least you didn’t think, and you weren’t a couple. The situation-ship between you and Spencer was a secret that was not exactly ready for the world to know; because quite frankly, you didn’t even know what the secret was.

Is it the fact they were having sex or was it because they were coworkers in an inappropriate relationship, was the relationship inappropriate because they had feelings, did Spencer actually have feelings for her, did she really have feelings for Spencer, and if so where would the relationship go?

The whole thing spiraled when thought about too hard. So keeping it just as blissful moments that you replayed every night before going to bed or the times you’d let you mind wonder away from whatever case you were busy on.

You liked thinking about the way he’d look at you with those big nervous eyes, hair draped in loose curls, breathing heavy. How’d he moan into every kiss. His shaky hands as he’d undressed you.

You crossed your legs getting excited just thinking about it.

“Penelope you can’t tell anyone, ok?!”

“I know Y/N, I’m not”

“Not even Morgan”

Penelope let out a disappointed sigh “not even Morgan… but you can’t just leave me in the dark about this. Like I’m curious” Penelope paused and leaned in and sort of whispered “is he good”

You face got flushed and you could feel your heart pumping out your chest. “Yes” you said smiling trying your best to keep eye contact with the floor. “Really good”

You both let out an almost school girl laugh. It was fun and a bit of a relief to finally talk to someone about your sex life.

“What have you guys done” Penelope asked with a playful nudge

“I don’t know. Just things” Penelope gave you a glare that was truly not satisfied with your poor description.

“We did it in his car one time”

“Ahhhh Y/N L/N you freak”

The car was just so convenient . You’d ask him to drive you home after work and he’d park in front of your apartment. You’d entertain his weak conversation that he’d start in attempt to make you stay, he’d talk about articles he’s read and science facts (really unsexy things that are only sexy because it’s Spencer). He’d stare at your lips and you’d catch him. Then all of the sudden you both were breathing hard and leaning in closer and making out. It might of been easier just to do it in the comfort of your own home but you thought it was hotter in the car (and so did Spencer).

Sometimes you’d act like you had to go or you’d say something real coy like ‘what if someone sees’ just to hear Spencer beg you to stay. You’d ride him, or give him a blowjob, or climb in the backseat. If it was really good you’d have a second round in your apartment.

You could tell Spencer wasn’t that experienced by the way he’d approach everything with so much shyness. It was like he had to fight himself just to ask you for something he clearly wanted. But his lack of experience didn’t seem to affect his performance.

You’d think he’s bruised your cervix with the amount of times he hit it. All you could do was gape your mouth open and grip whatever was near when he’d slide into you. He’d look at you with innocent eyes and breathlessly ask “does that feel good”.

It’s hard sometimes to come to work and look in the eyes of the man who’s dick was just in your mouth a couple of hours ago and act normal. But you found it kind of flattering when he’d make eye contact with you during one of his presentations and he’d start adjusting his boner.

It was nice to have Spencer, for sex yes, but to also just confine in. It’s hard to sleep alone after those hard cases and it’s comforting to have someone right next to you when the night seems extra long. Spencer also once gave you a whole spiel about how orgasms are actually good for sleep because of oxytocin or something (his pillow talk is getting better). Truthfully, you’d hope whatever you and Spencer had wouldn’t end.

“Oh Y/N your growing up” Penelope said “next thing I know you’ll be taking a pregnancy test with me”

“Alright Penelope let’s not manifest that” you said with a nervous laugh

A nock was heard on the door, you both turned and speak of the devil himself it was Spencer.

“Hey Penelope have you’ve seen the paper wo-” he stumbled over his words making eye contact with you and he cleared his throat “the paper work for the case last month”. The air in the room shifted and all of the sudden everything was really awkward and you were getting sweaty.

Penelope gave you a knowing smile “no, but I think Y/N can help you find it”

Spencer looked at you, scanning you face and body “do you know where it is Y/N”

“Yeah umm I think it’s down stairs” you said getting out of your seat trying to avoid the knowing eyes and smirk of Penelope burning through your skull.

“Will you show me…where it is …downstairs” Spencer said adding more awkward to this conversation.

You just mouthed yeah and tried your best to ignore Penelope as you exited. “Have fun” she said laughing maniacally as the door closed.

“What was that about” Spencer asked putting his hands in his pocket.

“Penelope’s just in a good mood” you said rolling your eyes.

“So are we still on for Friday?”

[myobsessionsspace]

"My last point is that I don't really see JK being a club going person."

I was going to say this a well. I quite don’t get why some people portray him as a party boy when he has shared several times that he’s more of a homebody and feels more comfortable chilling with friends or relaxing at home - which, for an introvert, isn’t surprising at all. He seems like someone who has a small close circle of friends and doesn’t really socialize outside of it. Sure we don’t know him in private and it’s not like he never goes out obviously but I’ve always felt he was pretty transparent and sincere with us. So I really don’t get the need for some fans to portray him as a person he hasn’t shown to be. It’s weird, it’s like he’s not enough for them so they have to twist his personality to make it fit the way they would like him to be. That’s not exactly what I call love, but well..

~Ask Anon is referring to~

Hi lovely!

Right?! Talk your talk 💪

Like how many times has Jungkook shown and spoken about his MTBI?! He’s an introvert through and through. From what we’ve seen he has his select few that he’s himself with and has fun with but we’ve seen him when not working like a dog, at home or working out.

Introvert in the wild

He drinks at home, due to sasaengs he works out at home, he sings karaoke at home, he cooks at home.

Of course he must do things with people that we don’t see or know about but the pervasive notion that he’s some addict fuck boy boils down to ta few things, the main ones in my mind right now, small mindedness and baseless rumours.

Small mindedness because according to the teen book, movie, tv, fanfic stereotype the dark clothes, piercings, tattoo, bike riding, quiet type can and only ever will be a ‘fuck boy’. He has a group of 97z idol friends that one outing, that made headlines, determined his character from that point forward. What else has he done that warrants such judgements? Drink at home in front of his phone? Have boxing as a hobby? Own a motorcycle alongside owning cars too?

The Wattpad f*ck boy of their dreams 😑 I’ve literally SEEN countless Wattpad covers, some actually entitled ‘f*ck boy’ or with a fuckboyjungkook! tag, no joke!!!

Rumours because his blonde foreign, dancer, idol, older actress, tattoo artist girlfriends all can attest under oath to his ways, no wait it’s the random online account holders that can attest under oath due to their inside knowledge

No matter how often he shows himself to be a homebody. No matter how often over the years the members and Jungkook talk about how Jungkook likes to stay in. Jungkook saying he’d rather join in on other people’s plans as he’s not one to do much of left to his own devices. Namjoon saying Jungkook likes to stay at home and Hobi saying ‘he’ll go for Jimin’. Jungkook saying he stays in and when given Netflix suggestions says he’s watched them all, used to stay in and play video games, draw and create etc it’s not enough to shift certain people’s mindset because his outward appearance sets it in stone for them. Oh that and his FICTIONAL music videos where he holds a woman’s hand and starts at another woman’s forehead

When the camera is rolling for the MV character, the pop idol

When the camera isn’t rolling for the MV character but to capture the man Jeon Jungkook

There are so many side to this young man who has an aesthetic expression that people will not get over.

Curteous

Kind and respectful

Loving

Tender and caring

Cute. Sorry Jungkook you are a grown man, yes, but still so damn cute!

You’re right in my opinion anon but I will say one thing…

You said: ‘It’s like he’s not enough for them […]’

I say: He’s too much for them, so they have to simplify him to a caricature because him as a whole is someone they can never appreciate, how he deserves to be appreciated. Him as a whole can’t be the person they’ve deemed their fantasy or enemy.

Thank you for your ask😊! As you can tell I needed to get that out and you gave me the opportunity 🙈

💜

[blossomwritesthings]

𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥

pairing: chan x curvy/plussizedfem!reader (afab)

genre: idol!chan. curvy/plussized!reader. hurt/comfort. angst!! slight fluff. smut - MDNI, 18+ ONLY. reader pov. established relationship.

content & warnings: explicit & strong language. mild thematic elements. the angst is real and raw in this. reader deals with a lot of online hate for many different reasons (this includes things like: age discrimination, fat-ph0bia, and online bullying). territorial/protective chan. smut warnings below cut!!

word count: 6.7k

summary: against your boyfriend chan's wishes, you had made a twitter account after many years - and what a mistake that was. now, you're left with the aftermath of the damage, and chan is the only person who can pick up the broken pieces of you.

18+ warnings: unprotected sex (stay safe out there, guys!) but reader is on birth control. chan has a fixation for reader's tits lmao. fingering. someone gets a handjob... 👀 DIRTY talk. youngerdom!chan. oldersub!reader. making out. manhandling and slight size kink. praise kink. nipple/breast play. body worship. riding. excessive hair pulling/scratching. BREEDING KINK!!! pet names (babydoll, babygirl, kitten, etc.). daddy kink. multiple orgasms is alluded to. someone gets fucked on top of a table.

a/n: OKAAAY- firstly, I just wanna give a big shout out to my dear, sweet friend Belle (@cb97breathing) for being so kind as to request a chan oneshot, and inspiring me to write this dumpster fire of a fic lmao!! 😂 I told her that my requests have been closed since may, but since she's such a wonderful friend, I've made an exception this time around~ 🫣 anyways, hope you enjoy this lil piece babe... you'll have to lmk what you think ehehehehehe... 😈 I wrote this in a single sitting last night, so it might make like, no sense at all but I seriously don't give a flying fuck at this point, so enjoy!! 💀

💙 - ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ other cool stuff ❜┊˚ ̥۪͙۪◌! ࿐ྂ

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. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ skz fic recs [sfw ver]! ࿐ྂ

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ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏsᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ sɪᴛᴇs (ᴛʜɪs ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇs ᴛʀᴀɴsʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴs). © ʙʟᴏssᴏᴍᴡʀɪᴛᴇsᴛʜɪɴɢs ⤐ ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛs ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ

Soon after the two of you had started dating, you had promised your boyfriend Chan that you would never go online to search for fans' comments about your relationship. Whether they were good or bad, he had made you promise him that you'd never read such things because it wasn't good for your health. 

And for the most part, you'd kept that promise to him. 

  For years, you had left social media alone. Avoid making any form of account to begin with, that way you wouldn't be tempted to read some of the shit that people said about you online. 

  You were a pretty strong woman and could withstand a lot of chaos. This had proven to be true after Chan announced your relationship, as some of the Stray Kids 'fans' hadn't taken to the news very well. Instead, they stormed the streets of his company, protesting against the relationship and making humungous threads online as they tried to expose you. 

  But lately, you could feel yourself slipping. 

  At first, it had just started with making a harmless Twitter account. You had wanted to follow your boyfriend's private one that the fans didn't know about. And for a little bit, everything was okay. He didn't know about your activity online, and you wanted to keep it that way. 

  It was one day though, when you were feeling especially shitty about yourself, that you happened to stumble upon some random Tweet. 

  The things that the anonymous person had said about you dug deep inside of you. Reached for your heart and squeezed it in an icy, vice-like grip. 

  Then, it wasn't too long before you found yourself on the wrong side of social media. 

  The one that was full of darkness and hatred and violence. 

  And everything that you saw was always about you and Chan. But mostly, the sick people focused on you. 

  Nitpicking everything about you. 

  Your personality, 

  Your words, 

  The worst things they talked about were linked to your body and age. 

  Sure, you were on the curvier side of things. But Chan had always made it crystal clear from day one that he found you absolutely beautiful. The first time the two of you had met at that random club in Seoul all those years ago, back when Stray Kids was newly debuted, he had told you how stunning you were - inside and out - and he had only talked to you for an hour at that point. 

  These people who hid behind their screens online liked to point out your age, too. About how you were a few years older than Chan. They called you all sorts of things and claimed that you were a golddigger for getting with someone so famous. 

  Chan had never mentioned your age gap before. He treated you like you were his peer and not someone who had quite a few years over him. Because that's the kind of man he was - he didn't care what you looked like or how old you were. All he cared about was you... and what you were like on the inside. So all of the frivolous things that other guys worried about were cast to the sidelines, as he only ever focused on your inner spirit. 

  Obviously, your boyfriend was a rarity. 

  Even still though, you could feel your self-esteem tanking with each comment that you read. Each thread, each video. They only unraveled you a little bit more with every day that passed. And you knew that they truly weren't fans. Because people who loved Chan would never hurt him and you the way some of them were doing. 

  But that didn't change the fact that it really fucking hurt. 

  You knew that you shouldn't have made the Twitter account. But now that you were on it? Now that you were constantly checking what others were saying about you? You couldn't seem to stop. 

  Like a drug that was slowly overtaking your system, you couldn't get enough of it all. 

  The hate, 

  The shame, 

  The ridicule. 

  It spread throughout your veins, making you feel exhausted and angry, and heartbroken. 

  But of course, your boyfriend could never know of such things. Sure, he checked social media to see what fans were saying, but he didn't have that much time to hang around and catch the shitty side of things. 

  No, you had promised him you'd never go on social media, so you intended to keep everything a secret. He had warmed you away from it all early on since he knew how horrible people could be online. 

  And to be honest, you felt a little ashamed, too. To become so affected by the abhorrence that you were losing sleep over it. That you were losing your appetite, too. You could feel your motivation tanking as your brain replayed countless things that people were saying about you. 

  So there you were, snuggled under a fuzzy blanket and tucked in the corner of the large, black leather couch that was in your boyfriend's studio. It was late on a weekend night, and he had called you over to the company to hang out with him while he worked. 

  Although, you weren't really focusing on him after a while. Instead, you were scrolling through Twitter in silence, taking in the newest things that random people were saying about you.

  User 570 - "nah that fatass could neverrr bag such a hot guy like chan, she totally seduced him or some shit."

  User 194 - "I heard that he's into like, a mommy kink and that's why he fell for her while he was still so young... didn't they start dating when skz was still newly debuted??" 

  User 006 - "bro don't get me STARTED- this dumb bitch is over here thinking that he genuinely loves her... gurl, he's probably cheating on you with one of the itzy members hahaha" 

  User 288 - "Not her thinking she actually had a fighting fucking chance with our chan-"

You were pulled from the comments by the sound of a voice talking. You looked up to see that your boyfriend was turned around in his desk chair, muscular arms folded over his chest as he stared at you. 

  "Y/N." 

  The way he was calling your name, so seriously and without any hint of playfulness, sent a ripple of unease to course down your spine. 

  "Y-Yes?" You asked, gently placing your phone face-first down on the couch beside you, that way he couldn't see what you had been looking at. 

  "Did you even hear what I was saying?" He rose a dark, perfectly-manicured eyebrow your way. For Stray Kids newest comeback, he had dyed his hair platinum blonde again. He did it in part because his stylists had said he'd look good with bringing it back. But mostly, you knew that he had done it for you, since him being a blonde had always been one of your biggest weaknesses. 

  "Oh- no, sorry, I was kinda distracted..." You mumbled, fingers playing with the blanket around your waist, palms digging into the soft fabric as you felt your heart beat against your ribcage.

  Chan threw you a deep frown before he placed his headphones down on his desk. He had been busy producing for the past two hours, and with a glance at the clock just above his head, you read that it was well past midnight. The company was quiet, signaling that everyone had gone home for the night. 

  Everyone except you and Chan, at least. 

  "I was asking if you wanna get takeout," Chan began, running a hand through his blonde locks and messing it up even more. "I'm pretty sure that fried chicken place just down the road is open 24/7, so we could get that if you'd like." 

  You felt yourself shaking your head. Because honestly, soon after reading the comments from that night, you had lost all form of an appetite. "I'm not hungry right now. But you can get something if you'd like, babe... do whatever you want." 

  Without saying another word, you picked up your phone again. And already, you were getting lost in a sea of new posts and comments that had appeared while you were distracted. 

  "Baby." Chan's voice came out softer than before, but it still didn't pull your attention away from the darkness that was seemingly at the edges of your fingertips. "Baby- listen to me." 

  That got your attention. Automatically, you were lifting your head again, blood thrumming in your ears as you watched the swarthy look cross over your boyfriend's face. 

  "What's going on with you lately?" He said, leaning forward in his chair and resting his elbows atop his knees, showcasing his bare forearms. If you were in a different headspace, you'd be turned on by the sight of him like that - light hair all disheveled, and loose-fitting black t-shirt beautifully showcasing his muscular arms. "You've been acting different these days, and it's making me worry."

  You tried to flash him your best reassuring smile, but you got the feeling that it looked a little more like a painful grimace than anything else. Because the only thing that was worse than all of the hatred was his finding out. No, you wanted to keep all of it away from him. Hide it inside yourself, that way only you'd be the one affected by the shadows. 

  "I'm fine, Chan. Don't worry, nothing's going on..." Your voice trailed off, as you caught his intense stare. Then his eyes were roving over your form, before stopping at your phone that was clutched in your hands, held close to your chest. You could feel the crimson blooming in your cheeks as he began to take notice of your secrecy regarding the device. 

  He was rising from his chair then, nearing you slowly. If he moved too fast, he'd scare you away irrevocably and there would be no comeback for him whatsoever. "What's got you so distracted, hmm?" His question came out hushed as if only you were meant to hear it. 

  The anxiety danced in the pit of your stomach, as anxious butterflies flitted around your system from his approaching nearness. "Oh, uhm- just a friend from... high school." 

  "Oh yeah? What's her name?" 

  "Uh- Vanessa." 

  "What're you guys talking about so late at night?" 

  You shifted uncomfortably in your position, limbs turning a little shaky at his closeness. If you reached out, you'd be able to touch him. "Just... girl stuff." 

  Chan laughed at that, but it held no humor. No mirth whatsoever. Instead, it was dry and sardonic and left a hole to begin widening in your heart. 

 He knew, 

 He knew,

 He- 

"Lemme see." 

  You knew it had been coming as soon as he had started grilling you about your phone. Even still, the two little words forced your eyes to widen frantically. Heart pushing against your ribcage in anxiety, you held on a little tighter to your phone. 

  "I don't really know if-"

  "Give me the damn phone, Y/N," Chan said, his voice a little more raised than before. The firm line of his lips pressed together and his eyes that were dancing with a myriad of feelings told you everything you needed to know. His hand was already outstretched, as he waited for your next move. "I won't ask again." 

  And you knew he wouldn't. 

  Because if you didn't comply, he'd force it out of your hand. 

  Chan was a gentle man, with a beautiful soul and a love for humanity. But if there ever was a threat to the people he loved, if he ever held any sort of suspicion that something was amiss, he wouldn't hesitate to take the reins. 

  And that usually meant it came out in the form of anger - of pure, unadulterated rage, as he battled against whatever force was hurting his loved ones. 

  So just like that, you were raising the white flag. You were admitting defeat, as you slowly placed the phone in his open hand. 

  Holding your breath, you leaned back against the couch, waiting, and watching. 

  At first, nothing happened. 

  He stared at the phone in silence, eyes scanning the bright screen. 

 But then, everything changed. 

  In an instant, his face was morphing into something dim and... scary. Eyes turning to slits as he read the obscene things that were right there on your phone, strong jaw ticking as he stood there. You saw the way his hand gripped on a little harder to the phone, knuckles turning white with his barely masked anger quickly rising to the surface. 

  You didn't realize you were crying until it was too late and the first sob was flooding from your mouth. Pathetically, a small whimper escaped from deep inside of you as your heart raced in your chest from the way your boyfriend's entire persona was morphing into a man who was beyond furious. He was probably seeing red at this point. 

 "Please- Chan, d-don't be angry with me!" You suddenly burst out in a tiny wail. Your desperate voice seemed to shake him from the laser focus that he had on your phone's screen. It yanked his eyes away from it and soon he was staring back at you. "I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-" 

  You had no time to react then, as he was throwing your phone aside haphazardly and dropping to his knees on the floor. In the next breath, he was upon you, reaching out with those strong arms of his and pulling you into him. 

  Like two puzzle pieces that were made to fit together, you melted against him. He wrapped his arms around your body, holding your shaking form close as you buried your face in the crook of his neck, the sobs racking through you. Your heart was beating so fast, you were afraid you were about to drop dead right at that moment. 

  But your boyfriend's hold on you saved you. Grounded you, forced you to take deep breaths slowly but surely. Relaxed your muscles until you were feeling a little light-headed from all of the exhaustion and pain. The entire time, Chan remained quiet, merely carding gentle fingers through your hair as he soothed your aching spirit.

  And when the tears finally subsided, you were pulling away from his form, peering up at him with pink-flushed cheeks and bleary eyes. "A-Are you mad at me?" 

  Chan stared down at you, taking in a deep breath before he was speaking for the first time in a while. His voice was gruff, but not as stony as it had been earlier. "Why would I ever get mad at you for the shit that psychos say online?" He reached up towards you, tucking a few strands of your messy hair behind your ear. "I mean, yeah, I'm disappointed that you got a Twitter in the first place, but I'm even more disappointed in the fact that you didn't tell me about any of this."

  You felt the tears prick at the corners of your eyes again at the mention of his disappointment in you. You hated the feeling that you had let him down. It tore through you like a painful slash, the icy blade digging into your soul and ripping open a cacophony of emotion. "I-I'm so sorry babe... I... I didn't want to worry you. I just... thought I could handle it on my own." 

  Your boyfriend fit a few fingers underneath your chin, tipping your head up so that you met his gaze again. "Babygirl, this isn't something you can handle on your own. You're not supposed to have such a heavy burden on your shoulders- no one is supposed to. But because we live in such a shitty world, things like this happen." His thumb moved up your face, as he gently swiped at your bottom lip. The gesture eased your racing mind, slowly calming your heart as you came down from the intensity of it all. "I'm just glad that I know about it now so that I can help you." 

  You went silent after that, searching his face as he looked on at you with soft fondness. The anger had completely dissolved out of him as soon as he had seen your tears. Because that's the kind of man he was. When things got emotional, all rage he once felt was left to the wayside so that he could help you through the pain.

  "Y-You have to know, that none of it is true, babe," you started, stuttering over your words from the dryness in your throat. "I... I didn't start dating you because I'm a gold digger or that I have a thing for younger guys and I-"

  Chan brushed his thumb across the corner of your lips again, offering you a soft, easy smile. "Honey, you don't have to explain yourself to me. I know full well that all that bullshit is completely groundless." You two had separated and he was back in his chair, with it rolled so close to you that your knees touched. Chan reached out with his free hand, grabbing yours and squeezing your palms together. "I fell in love with you at first sight because I saw what a genuinely beautiful human being you were. And I've continued to fall in love with you every single day since then. Your age- your size, none of it matters to me. You know I don't care about those stupid things... all I care about is you." 

  You roughly scrubbed at your eyes, willing the tears away so that you could get a clearer look at his face. "Y-Yeah, I know... it's just, it's hard not to believe the things they say, you know?" You gave him a weak, humorless smile. 

  "That's the exact reason why I didn't want you going on social media... I wanted to protect you," he began, raising your clasped hands to his mouth and pressing a few gentle kisses against your knuckles. "I love you so much and only want the very best for you. And I always want you to be safe, yeah? I'm not gonna let anyone - online or in real life - hurt you like that again. I promise." 

  This time, the grin you gave him was genuine and warm. "I love you too, Chan..." You whispered, as you leaned into him and gave his cheek a light peck. "So much. And I'd do anything for you - fight anyone to keep you okay." 

  "That's my sweet girl," Chan's praise forced the peachy-pink tinge to creep up the column of your neck, pooling in your cheeks and rising to the tips of your ears. "Now come over here and sit down, I wanna show you some of the stuff I've been working on." He pat his lap, and you felt your heart leap in your chest. 

  He was trying to distract you. He was trying to pull your mind away from the contempt and all of the turmoil that he knew was still brewing deep inside your mind. 

  So you let him. 

  You let him pull your mind away to softer, quieter things. 

  And soon, you were situated in his lap with the fuzzy blanket wrapped around your shoulders. With your spine pressed into his firm stomach, you watched him type away at his computer as he pulled up a sample. 

  "This is something I want to put on our new album... I think it'd suit Changbin's voice fucking well." He mused off, as he began to play an expert of the song. It was fast-paced and upbeat, with a subtle hip-hop vibe to it. 

  You slightly turned to the side, offering him a faint smile, "I really like it, babe... feels like a great song to play in a concert." 

  "I know right? I haven't shown the guys it yet, but I have a feeling that they're gonna love it." 

  Giggling softly, you turned around so that you were facing him. He titled his head up to meet your regard, and you reached out, carding a few fingers through his blonde locks. 

  "You're so cute when you're excited about music," you muttered, tilting forward to give his forehead a gentle kiss. And when you pulled away, you flashed him a tiny smirk. "Hot, too. Like, really fucking hot. Makes me so jealous when I watch those producing vlogs you make and I see all of the fangirls going batshit crazy over you." 

  You had never confessed to watching some of his vlogs, since you didn't want him to think that you were stalking his content. But automatically, you could see the switch flip inside your boyfriend's mind. 

  Instantly, he was mirroring your smirk. Sparkly white teeth pulled taut against his lips as he peered on at you with a suggestive light dancing in his eyes. "Oh really? Well, just wait until you hear this next track..." 

 He pressed a few things on his keyboard, and soon, a song with a deep bass was booming out of the studio's speakers. The sensual r&b feel of it vibrated around the room, wrapping around the two of you and causing something heated to stir in the pit of your stomach. It was quite dark in the studio, with the only light atop his desk casting a faint glow across Chan’s smooth, tan skin. 

  "I think I like this one even more."

  Chan's gaze was still locked with yours, as you felt his hands move away from the keyboard, instead resting on either side of your hips. "Good, because I made it for you- for us." 

  Brows furrowed in confusion, your heart skipped a beat at the admission. He had made songs for you in the past, but nothing quite so... alluring. "What do you-"

  He cut you off by his fingers digging into the fabric of your shorts, making you squeak out in surprise. "Made it one night when I was pumping myself dry to that picture of you- you know the one... black lingerie, in front of our bedroom's full-length mirror..." He ground out in a raspy voice, leaning up into you and nuzzling the tip of his nose into the exposed skin of your neck. He took in a shuddering, deep breath, and as you restlessly shifted against his lap, you could feel the growing hardness there, hidden just underneath his black sweatpants. "Imagined what it'd be like to fuck you to it... have you screaming my name as you ride my cock so perfectly- the way you always do. Was inspired by the thought of you taking me so well that you can’t talk anymore, that you go fucking mute and all wobbly-legged as I fuck that tight, little cunt of yours wide open with my cock." 

  "C-Chan, I..." But you were cut off once again, this time by his head moving downwards, as he pulled the neck of your oversized tee down so that your clavicle was exposed to the cool studio air. 

  Then his teeth were grazing over your skin, biting down softly, tongue swiping and soothing, and you already knew that violet and crimson would bloom from that exact spot when he was finished. 

  "You'd like that, huh?" His low voice rumbled against your skin, shooting freezing shivers up the entirety of your spine. "Like me to fuck you right here while this music is playing on in the background." 

  And the words were already leaving your brain, surging out of your mind as the fire began to blaze in your core. It made everything around you deep red, as you honed in on your boyfriend at that moment, and how he looked up at you with a sardonic kind of smirk. 

  You nodded quickly. Desperately. "Holy shit, yes- yes, please... I... need you to fuck me right now." Without even realizing it, you were grinding against him. In your heated frenzy, you hadn't even registered the fact that you were moving back and forth on his clothed lap. 

  Chan reached up then, running a few of his slim fingers through your hair, before he was grabbing onto your locks, pulling back slightly so that your neck was more exposed than ever before. "Such a good girl..." His lilting tone praising you so well made you squirm in your spot, your legs positioned on either side of his waist. "But you know what good girls do, right? They... ask nicely." He said the last of his words in a quiet whisper, his tongue lapping at your sensitive clavicle once more, sucking and kissing the expanse of skin there. 

  Then he yanked a little harder at your hair, forcing your eyes open in shock. You bit down hard on your bottom lip, as you subtly registered the sound of that new r&b track he had made repeating on itself. He had set it to that, already knowing how the night would turn out. 

  That devious little minx. 

"Please-" You breathed out, whimpering softly at the feel of his hardness hitting that one spot between your legs. "Daddy, please... want... want you to fuck me right now. Need it so bad, I-I can't breathe I need you so much, Daddy." 

  Chan was silent for a moment, and just as you were about to whine for him all over again, he was moving. Fingers grabbing onto the hemline of your shirt and slowly lifting it up your torso. "Well... I guess, since you're being so good tonight, I have no choice but to give in to you." He said in a low tone. 

  His fingertips grazed against your stomach as he made his way up your arms with your shirt, teasing you silently. You cried out at the feeling of him being so close to you, yet he wasn't even doing that much. He hadn't even started yet. 

  Once your shirt was off and cast to the side, he made quick work of your bralette, and soon, that was forgotten too. Chan pulled away from you to admire your topless form for a few seconds, shaking his head from side to side in approval and smiling like a maniac. 

  "Always loved your tits so fucking much," he purred, face nuzzling into the middle of your chest just as one of his hands came around one of your mounds, squeezing slightly. "Whenever I see them like this, it makes me wanna suck on them for days- fuck it, months." 

  Then his head was moving to the side, as he pressed fervent kiss after fervent kiss to your exposed breast. You clutched on tight to his blonde locks as soon as his mouth hovered over your hardened peak. His breath was hot against your gooseflesh, making you shake with unchecked want. 

  "I'd let you too," you sighed just as his tongue poked out between his mouth and came in contact with your bare skin. "If I could live the rest of my days with your face buried in my tits, I probably would do it in a heartbeat..." You felt yourself beginning to slip off the cliffside in that moment, as his teeth grazed your nub, sharp canines sinking into your skin while his hot mouth fit around your cleavage perfectly. 

  "Fuck- pretty sure you're gonna be the death of me, baby doll," his mutter jolted across your flesh, sending flashes of white-hot bliss to dance through your veins. His head was moving after that, focusing on your other tit while his hand played with the one he had just had his attention on. 

  Expert fingers pulled and tugged, twisting and soothing. You felt the warmth rising into your cheeks, and as you closed your eyes, you swore you saw little stars dance across your vision from the way that his head was buried so well between your cleavage. 

  "D-Daddy, I can't-" You were suddenly begging, hands wrapping around his locks and pushing his face closer to your skin. 

  He was drawing away from you at that, lips wet and a little puffy from the abuse that he was giving to your tits alone. Dragging a finger across the line of your jaw, he played with your bottom lip for what felt like the millionth time that day, all the while flashing you one of those smirks.  

  The one he only used when he was especially turned on. 

  "I know baby girl, I know..." He gave you a teasing pout, just before he was tipping into your form and his lips were nearing yours. "You want Daddy to make it all better, yeah? Want me to use my cock on you now?" His mouth fit around yours, his tongue dipping between your teeth and tasting you. 

  You moaned into him, loving the way he met your grinding midway. The two of you were moving in perfect sync to the music softly playing from the speakers. And as his tongue lapped at yours, you could faintly sense one of his hands leaving your hip, traveling to the waistline of your shorts and sliding down the front of them. 

  Chan swallowed whole the shuddered gasp that fled from deep inside of you as you felt his fingers toy with you, running along the line of your panties before he was dipping in. Then you were turned into a shaking mess of limbs and whines, as he slipped his hand close to your throbbing core, thumb circling your sensitive bud, pressing into it and drawing senseless figures while another one of his long fingers toyed with your entrance. 

  His lips moved away from yours, a string of saliva following in the wake of your separation. Slowly, his mouth came over the shell of one of your ears, teeth gently grazing your lobe as he said in that dark voice of his, "Hmm- already so nice and wet for me... you're gonna take me real easy tonight, yeah, dollface?" 

  Your head was bobbing up and down in silent agreement, a string of breathless cries flooding from your lips at the feeling of two of his fingers sinking into your essence. You moved around his hand, swiveling your hips in a rhythm that matched the beat of the sensual song playing in the background.

  Yanking a little harder at his bleached roots, you forced him to peer up at you. Catching the way his eyes were hooded and the shadows of the room danced across the sharpness of his cheekbones and nose, you could take a pretty good guess as to how close he was too. And he wasn't even inside you yet. 

"N-No more teasing, Daddy... please." You knew he loved all of the begging. He admitted to such a thing early on at the start of your relationship. If there was one thing you could get away with in bed, it was begging. Do a little light groveling for him and his cock, and he was all yours. 

  In the next beat, he was ripping his hand away from your soaking core, hands making quick work of his sweatpants and boxers. Soon, his shirt was off too, showcasing his toned abs and biceps. Once he was finished shucking off his pants, he turned his focus back on you, lifting a suggestive eyebrow your way. 

  "Go on, kitten- stroke it." He motioned with a single tilt of his head downwards, and your eyes followed his gesture until you came in contact with him. All throbbing seven and a half inches of him, tip already puffed red and leaking out precum. 

  You gulped around the lump steadily forming in your throat, your lips already parting in silent want as your eyes traced the long vein that ran up the length of him. He was utter perfection and a sight to truly behold. His half-naked form always left you breathless, no matter how many times you had seen him. 

  Without another word spoken between the two of you, you reached forward, hands coming around his rigidness. Instantly, upon contact, he threw his head back against his chair, moaning out in that husky voice of his. 

  Slowly, you began to stroke up and down, pulling and squeezing only slightly. You could feel him practically swelling underneath your fingertips, as he neared his release. And just when you thought he couldn't take any more of it, your boyfriend was clawing at your bare hips, guiding your body so that your entrance was sitting just above his cock.

  "Fuck- I love your body so much," he growled, as he helped you get into position. And as you began to sink down onto him, his eyes tore open and met your gaze. The emotion you found there - of pure love and adoration - did something funny to your stomach. Cast butterflies across your entire system, making you feel all floaty inside. "Love every inch of you- every curve, every dip, every dimple." 

  As the words fell from his lips, you were beginning to move against him, hips making languid circles, pushing back and forth to feel the tip of him hit that spot deep inside of you. Chan worked against you, thrusting up between your folds and steadily helping to build the rising release inside of you. 

  "Yeah- just like that," he groaned out, face flushed a dark red colour from the way you fit around him so perfectly. The wet sounds of the two of you moving together in tandem cast a whole new form of lewdness over the track that was playing in the very background. Made everything so much more hotter. "Taking me so well- this pussy was fucking made for me." 

  You clawed desperately at his shoulders, nails raking down his proud, muscular back. He met each one of your movements by plunging so far into you, you could feel your insides melting from how badly your orgasm was approaching. 

  "You feel so good, holy shit, I-" You began to say but froze up from the feeling of Chan moving the two of you again. And soon, he was frantically pushing aside the things on his desk that was just behind you, shoving his keyboard aside as he grabbed onto your hips and hoisting you up onto the lacquered wood. 

  You had no time to catch your breath then, as he was wrapping your legs around his torso and beginning to plunge into you on a whole different level. Before, riding him had been languid and sensual. But this new position was ravenous and wild.

  And as his cock reached all new places inside of you, you faintly sensed the feeling of a thumb pressing against your bundle of nerves, rubbing incessantly there to drive you closer to the edge. 

  "You said you were jealous of the Stays that fangirled over my producing form, right?" He ground out, pounding into you so irrevocably hard that you could do nothing but hold on for dear life. Nails digging into the muscles of his shoulders, you bounced against him with each push and pull. "But you know that there's no one else for me, kitten. You're still my favourite girl." 

  That had you crying out in white-hot bliss, as he fucked into you a little rougher, thumb rubbing at your clit a little faster. Your hips moved on their own accord, meeting his rocking halfway and driving you so close to the cliffside of orgasm.

  Your boyfriend bent down towards you then, tongue tracing the line of your lips as he gave you a feverish kiss. "Want you to say it, yeah? Tell me that you know." The tip of him hit into that gooey spot with every other breath that you took, and it was hard to even focus on what he was asking of you. 

  Even still, you managed to control your bearings. Over the curses and cries that had been flowing from your lips unbidden for the last half hour, you spoke up. "I-I'm still your favourite girl." You said in a desperate plea, head tipping back in pure ecstasy and eyes rolling into the back of your skull from how good he was making you feel. 

  "Say it again." 

  Another couple of frantic pumps. 

  "I'm still your favourite girl." 

  "Again!" 

  At this point, he was ordering loudly in that gravelly voice of his, one hand digging into your hip so tightly, you were sure you'd see bruises there the next day. Meanwhile, the other was busy between your legs, working you up to a total and complete frenzy while his cock fucked you right open. 

  "I'm still your favourite girl!" You screamed out in a strangled moan, your quickly-approaching orgasm making everything cast in a film of red haziness and confusion. 

  "Good..." Your boyfriend praised, stroking into you with sloppy movements as he approached his high. "Such a good girl for me... my special, pretty girl." He was buried so deep you could feel him turn completely rigid as he finally approached release. "Now come for me, baby doll..." 

  And that was all you needed to hear. 

  Instantly, you let yourself go, riding the wave of pure, cosmic euphoria. 

  It shook you to your entire core, making your limbs jelly-like and boneless. 

  It blew galaxies across your screwed-shut eyes, forcing out moan after countless moan as you allowed the orgasm to course through your veins in fiery red heat. 

  And the singlemost part that sent you over the edge completely was the feeling of Chan finding his release too - the explosion of whiteness coating your very walls. 

  Everything was so warm- 

  Your cheeks, 

  Your heart, 

  Your limbs, 

  Your pussy. 

  It felt like you had been dipped into a vat of eternal fire, and your boyfriend was the tinder to the match. 

Chan was a groaning mess above you, thrusts turning sloppy and shallow as he rode out his high. And when you were both finished, he didn't pull out quite yet. 

  You cracked your eyes open to catch a glimpse of him gazing down between the two of you, eyes still filled with so much lust and love. 

  "What?" You asked hesitantly, shifting in your spot on the edge of the wooden desk. "Did I do something wrong or-" 

  Chan's eyes flicked up to you then, and they softened exponentially. "No- no. I was just admiring this sight... your pussy so full of my cum. Almost makes me want to fuck it back into you right here and now..." He let his voice trail off in a light tone. 

  You knew how much he loved to breed you. He did it almost every single night. And you loved it too- playing with such a taboo and 'dirty' thing, even though you knew you were on birth control. 

  He wasn't the only one who got a high from it all.

  So you opened your legs up a little more for him, already feeling the stiffness of him coming back, his tip nudging that warm spot deep inside of you. 

  "Well?" You wiggled your hips a little bit, just taunting him for good measure. You flashed him your best smirk, the one he always gave you. "What're you waiting for, Daddy?" 

  The toothy grin that spread across his mouth then made your head skip a beat. Made the butterflies burst against your stomach and float up into your bloodstream. 

  "Have I ever told you how much I fucking love you?" He mused, lips coming close to hover over yours again. 

  You shrugged nonchalantly, like the position the two of you were in was anything but risky and sensual. "You could stand to mention it a few more times." 

  Then, just as he was tilting back in to give you another breathtaking kiss, he was muttering in that rumbly voice of his that he knew drove you crazy. "Well then- I fucking love you." 

  And just like that, you were turned into a giggling little schoolgirl, fangirling over her school crush. All the while, Chan began to shift against you again, hardening cock beginning to fuck his seed right back into your aching cunt. 

  It was enough to make you forget about everything, 

  The hate, 

  The heartbreak, 

  And all of the anxiety. 

  It didn't matter if the respite would only last for a little while - only for a single night. 

  Because if Chan's version of 'soothing your worries away' entailed his cock being buried deep inside of you for hours at a time, you weren't going to complain. 

  Nope, not one bit. 

Fin.

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[oozedninjas]

Purple led lights part II

I don't usually do second parts. I hope I made justice to the first piece!

Tag list of part 2 requesters:

@lizardgutzz

@technicallylegendaryflamethower

@muamazon4

@ijustcommittedacrime

Summary: Sweet, sweet Donnie... what do you get when you spy on your crush masturbating and jerk off to her without consent? You get what you fucking deserve. 

Warnings: 18+NSFW mdi voyeurism / mean!reader / black mail and threats / dirty talking / jerking off / video typing / psychological violence / denigration kink / Dacryphilia / coaxing / convincing / manipulating / dark content / punishment

If you click to read, you have agreed you have read the warnings and still wanna read this content.

He couldn’t take her face out of his head. The way her eyes popped out, how her jaw dropped and her expression twisted from surprise to horror. The worst part? After the encounter, he didn't have any proper closure. She didn’t speak to him, only mumbled a small “get out” while embracing her body in a vague attempt to hide her nakedness from his eyes. 

He fucked up. He fucked up big time. 

Donatello rubbed his face furiously, lifting his glasses in the process. He glanced at the clock, it was four in the morning. He and his brothers arrived from patrol about a couple of hours ago and now he was laying on his bed, sleep-deprived, thinking. All he did was think, and think... God, what he’d give to shake the feeling of being a creep out of his body.

****

A ding from your cell phone woke you up. It was too late for it to be from your usual friends or family. You squeezed your eyes a couple of times, trying to adjust them to the screen light before opening the text.

>nerdypoptardlicker: Are you awake? 

Delivered, 4:20 am.

>nerdypoptardlicker: I’m sorry about what happened yesterday.

Delivered, 4:20 am.

>nerdypoptardlicker: didn’t text you earlier ‘cause I panicked. Didn't know what to say.

Delivered, 4:21 am.

>nerdypoptardlicker: I can’t begin to explain how embarrassed I am. It was wrong. I don’t know what was going through my head when I did it. I’m profusely sorry.

Delivered, 4:21 am.

Donnie must feel like shit, you thought while moving a little in the comfort of your bed. He could see that you were online, but you didn’t really feel like answering. He messed up, it was only fair to let him hang a little in his guilt before saying you forgave him. 

>nerdypoptardlicker: Please answer me.

Delivered, 4:25 am.

You let out a deep sigh and decided to lock your phone before going back to sleep. 

****

It had been a week. A week of anxiety and overthinking. A week of not knowing anything from her but somehow he couldn’t stop insisting. How many texts had he sent now? Ten? Twenty, maybe? Donatello wasn’t sure, but he knew that at least you were reading them. You weren’t completely ignoring him which was a good sign, right? 

“I don’t think it’s a good sign. I think she’s done with ya," Raph’s crude words hit him hard. Donatello wasn’t someone who voiced his concerns with anyone but master Splinter or maybe Leo, but for a thing like this, he thought that the first two would be disgusted with what he did. But not Raph, he was sure his brother had done worse and kinkier things. 

“Then why won’t she say so?” The one in purple pressed and Raphael pursed his lips.

“Maybe she doesn’t wanna. You do know that ghosting is a thing, right?” Donnie rolled his eyes with a hint of annoyance.

“That’s not quite logical. if she was ghosting me she wouldn’t pop online as soon as my texts are delivered, and she wouldn’t read them,” he stated and soon he began to feel sick, both at the thought of the ghosting possibility and the smell of sweat which was filling the training room with every movement his brother did. 

On the other hand, Raph started another push up set with a rather dismissive attitude.  

“Who says she is reading them? Maybe she’s just leaving you on seen.” Raphael sounded slightly more annoyed by the second. For how long had he been hearing his brother rambling on the matter? It felt like for years. 

Donatello’s heart dropped into his stomach before that possibility. 

“Listen Don, I hate to sound like Leo here, but maybe she just needs time to get over what you did. It's either that or she really is ghosting you. You’ll know with time, but I think you should stop texting her for now. Send one last message and call it done.” 

“And what should I send as a final message?” Donnie inquired, still not believing that he was asking Rapahel for romantic advice, but the truth was that Raph managed to maintain a fairly long relationship with a nice person himself. 

Raphael shrugged, “Don’t know, you're the clever one.” 

****

>nerdypoptardlicker: I get it now. You’re in all your right to hate me. I deserve it and it’s okay if you don’t want to speak with me anymore. I’m really sorry, for everything. 

Delivered, 2:17 pm

>nerdypoptardlicker: good bye, (y/n).

Delivered, 2:17 pm

When you read that you couldn’t believe your eyes. Was that it? One week of avoiding him and that idiot was giving up on you? Un-fucking-believable. You had planned to make him pay by leaving him hanging, since you knew about his anxiety and tendency to overthink things. That was the torture he deserved. And now he decided that it was enough? 

Blood was rushing furiously to your ears as your breathing became heavier. Maybe sweet Donnie needed a different kind of punishment; so for the first time in a whole week you texted him back: 

>What? giving up so soon? Funny, thought you wanted me to forgive you. 

delivered, 2:21 pm

You felt a pang of self-satisfaction brushing your ego when you saw him typing back after just one second. 

>nerdypoptardlicker: Id o! I d!

delivered, 2:21 pm

>nerdypoptardlicker: I do! I do* 

delivered, 2:21 pm

>nerdypoptardlicker: Please tell me, what should I do?!! 

delivered, 2:22 pm

You smirked to yourself. Now that was interesting. You knew he had a crush on you. Hell, you had (and still have) a crush on him too, but it never occurred to you just how much Donnie was into you until he came to this point. 

>Come to my apartment on Friday night and don’t tell anyone you're coming. 

delivered, 2:23 pm

You had still two days to prepare your mind for what was going to happen.

*****

Donatello felt a wave of relief wash over him, but soon faded to let nervousness kick in. What were you thinking? what would he have to do? would you ask him to do something… no, that couldn’t be. Then why couldn’t he tell anyone he was going to see you? God, the possibilities were infinite. Well, if he stayed up all night he could maybe pair up all the options to make an outline of the possible ways things could turn out to be. 

He got to work and before he knew, Don spent the two remaining days making stories in his head, trying to anticipate the moment with you, what you’d say and how he should answer, move, behave. The one thing Donatello didn’t want was to upset you further. 

Now he stood in front of your window, fidgeting. He could feel his sweaty hands shaking a little when he knocked lightly before entering. Don called out for you and just after he spoke the lights got off, leaving him with a weird feeling creeping in the back of his neck. The sight to the inside of your place was a little more than spooky. The dark seemed to loom over him, threatening to engulf his hesitant form. Donnie called your name once again, this time his voice sounded shaky as he began to be aware of the cold sensation building in his chest. 

“Over here,” your voice came from the end of the hall, the place where your bedroom was. “Come in,” you added upon not hearing him moving. 

He gulped, innerly reassuring himself that he knew you. You wouldn’t ask him to do something illegal or harmful to make him pay. You were fair… but honestly, in the poor state of mind he was right now, Donatello could undoubtedly do anything you told him to, if that meant things could get back to normal. 

Dark extended before him as he tried not to hit anything in his way to your room, then, suddenly there was light. Purple light. The same as the last time. Why all the dramatism? Donatello didn’t know, but it worked and it made his heart rate crazy. 

You were there, dressed in black and sitting in your bed with one leg crossed over the other, looking up at him in a lurking way. 

“Hi,” he muttered, breaking the tense silence. 

“Oh hello,” you said in a mocking tone, “ready to pay for your stupidity?” 

Your rudeness took him aback, but as expected he accepted it with the most disconsolate expression. Donatello nodded, fidgeting a little before your gaze. 

“Sit” you ordered, motioning the chair beside him. It was placed a few meters from a camera mounted on a tripod. A small red light on the top indicated it was already recording. His expression fell a bit more with the upcoming realization of what you wanted: humiliation. 

Donnie sat down placing one of his hands on each knee, trying to control his anxiety.  

“Good boy. Now, please say clearly to the camera what you did.”

“Y/n, I-I I’m sorry I didn’t…”

“Quit apologizing. That’s not what I told you to do.” Donnie winced before looking at you through his lashes, if he had any. He resembled a scared, nervous puppy.

Donatello took a deep breath and he started over:

“I entered your apartment by the window, and… I didn’t know you weren’t home...”, he stopped, unsure of how to continue. You gave him a small push.

“But soon you realized. What did you do then?” 

He could feel embarrassment creeping up his bones. Uneasiness pulsating through his skin in the most uncomfortable way.

“I wandered and wound up in your room… It smelled like you–”

“Go straight to the point, ” you demanded harshly, jolting him, “what did you do, Donnie?”

Donatello wanted the floor to open and swallow him whole. He felt a knot on his throat and his insides twisted and tangled in the worst ways, but if this was the only thing he could do to make it up to you... he'll do it.

"I saw you t-touching yourself without your consent," he said, feeling like he was about to pass out, "and it turned me on."

"What else?" you pressed.

"Y/n please–"

"What else?!" you yelled, desperate before his hesitation.

"I touched myself while you did and came all over your closet's door." Donnie’s voice was a mere whisper. 

You let out a breath you'd been holding after which the sensation of a huge weight seemed to fall off your shoulders. There it was: acknowledgement. Acceptance of the viciousness committed (even if it was unintentional). Donatello was there, recognizing that he did that to you, agreeing that it was wrong and trying to make it right. 

A silence – in which you almost thought he was crying – was made. None of you moved. Donatello's gaze was still stuck on the floor when he whispered, "I'm sorry."

"I know. That's why you're here," your voice was slightly softer now, "so we can make it right."

You unzipped the dark dress you were wearing to let it slip down to your toes. The sound made him look at you at last and his expression broke in surprise and bewilderment.

"W-what you doing?!" Donnie squealed while turning his head aside. His hand flew up to cover his eyes.

"You granted yourself sexual gratification at my expenses. Now it's my turn to do the same."

"What?"

"You thought the only thing you had to do was confess? honey, we're far from being over," you told him while sitting on the bed.

"Touch yourself," you commanded. 

"Is this a joke?" he scoffed, his mood changing from panicked to sore.

"No, so do it.”

“I- I can’t do that y/n… this is going too far I don’t think–”

“Don’t you want to be over with this?" you coaxed, “so that everything between us can go back to normal?”

Nothing will be normal again after this, Donnie noted for himself as he obligates to look at you, slowly. His pupils blew away with the view. You were spread open in more or less the same position of the last time he saw you. Your hands fidgeted behind your back with the button of your bra and Donnie’s breath hitched when the fabric loosened over your chest. 

You gazed into his eyes with the darkest of looks while slowly peeling the cloth from your body, before tossing it to the side. Your breathing was even, making your chest up and down in the prettiest form. Don was stunned. 

“Answer me,” you pressed, “wouldn’t it be better to put an end to all this awful situation once and for all? Just do what I tell you… besides, you’re already turned on by all this, aren’t you?”

“I’m not!” he hushed-shout, fisting his hands over his legs as he looked away from your –almost– naked form.

“Lier,” you smirked. 

He stayed still for a whole round minute before you spoke again, “If you’re not doing it, then just leave. But don’t expect to hear from me ever again.”

A piece of fabric suddenly hit his plastron and he caught it on reflex. Purple panties. Donatello looked at you in a quick motion. You were propped up on your elbows, legs wide open. His eyes suffused with surprise. He should look away. He should go. But his eyes were glued to the image of your fingers teasing your labia, gathering slick. Your cunt was wet and perfect-looking.

His breath hitched. His heart was pounding inside his plastron so fast he thought it might just rip it open, it felt hot and his stomach was bubbling. Something electric ran through him from his dick to his spine and back. 

“Jerk off with me Donnie,” you pressed, your voice had softened and it came out like an irresistible velvety moan. “Do it or leave.”

You moved backwards so as to lean your back on the wall behind you. In your position, you were good and safe, while he was the only one exposed in front of the camera, facing you at the same time. 

Donatello gulped, glancing at the recording device while reminding himself this was a punishment, and as humiliating as it was, he couldn’t just walk away from it if it meant to lose you. A second was enough for him to decide that you were worth it. What he felt for you was worth it. And if he forgot about pride and pudor for just one instant, Donnie could silently acknowledge that he wanted it too. To see you willingly moaning with him, fully aware of his presence. Turned on because of him, even. 

One of his hands palmed his crotch over the fabric of his pants, releasing some of the tension as he sighed in relief, his eyes never leaving your form.  You smiled at him.

“Good decision,” you praised, “now take it out and make sure to look at the camera.” 

He nodded, his hands trembled slightly when he unzipped his pants. This felt raw and good in many different ways, but at the very bottom of those spicy feelings there was a strange sense of guilt. He shouldn’t be enjoying this, should he? Shouldn't he be mad at you for taking it this far?

He took out his cock before giving it small, slow bumps. This was being recorded. Donnie shuddered. 

“Your Dick looks so hot.” 

He straight out squeezed it after those words, tossing aside whatever wonders roaming his mind in favor of focusing on your voice, on the sight of you all spread open before him. Your fingers coming in and out of you at your own pace, and he got lost for a second in the way they sank into your body. You liked deep, and he burned that information in his mind.

The movements of your hand quickened. Now the sounds of your slick could be heard. Along with the small whimpers falling from your mouth, it sounded like a song he never wanted to stop listening to. 

Small stroaks felt like torture now and so Donatello gripped his cock tighter and started to go faster. His mouth gaped, his gaze dark through half-lidded eyes. 

You watched him closely as he moved one hand fast on his shaft, occasionally teasing the prominent head. The other ditched his pants to the side and went to palm his balls, giving them a few squeezes from time to time. A groan left his lips as he head fell back.  

From where you were laying, Donatello looked divine. This was the first time you saw a mutant dick, and frankly, it was everything but disappointing. Big and thick beyond human standards and seemingly smooth. It poured a dense liquid from the tip that Don was using to lube down his shaft. You couldn’t help but think how good it’d feel stretching you out, as you wondered in how many ways could you come just by feeling it hit deep inside. With those thoughts you curled the fingers inside your cunt to bump at the right spot. 

Heavy breathing and moaning sounds filled the room quickly. 

“See? this isn't so bad is it?” you teased. A smirk danced on your face as he locked his gaze in yours.  

Donnie didn’t speak. He feared that whatever force pulling him to do this would leave him if he dared to respond, but you pressed. 

“Tell me– Tell me you feel good,” your voice sounds drunk and silky. Donnie Shrudders. 

“Feels good,” he chokes out, his fist getting tighter and his pace faster. Eye contact never faded, and it was all too exciting. 

“I’m close” he panted. 

“Me too,” you sighed, your fingers reaching your clit rubbing circles over it for the first time in all these torturous while. 

“You look so hot…” Donnie’s voice reaches your ears in the middle of the heated moment. It sounds like velvet, sensual and sincere. You moaned with the praise as more sexy incoherencies fell from his mouth. 

“–I like you” he moaned louder with each breath, dragging the words in a way that sounded so sweet you couldn’t help but smile. “I like you, I like you, I like you- I– I’m coming!” 

A broken cry left his mouth as he gave himself some final strokes. Don made a mess of himself. His plastron was now wet with fresh cum as his body still enjoyed the last delicious spasms. You followed him shortly after, pleasing yourself with the view and savoring every moment of the electrifying heat spreading through your body multiple contractions in a row.

For a few seconds the only sound in the room were your breaths evening as they gradually went back to normal. 

After collecting yourself, you stood from your bed, moving towards the camera. Turned it off, and pulled out the small memory which contained the precious video of Donnie admitting something awful and then fucking his fist for redemption. 

He observed you silently, burning your silhouette in his mind. 

“Am I forgiven now?” he dared to inquire. 

There is an undeniable principle about punishments: they are never meant to be enjoyed by the chastised. 

“Almost,” you told him, weaving the camera memory in your hand “I just have to show this to your father.” 

[valyrfia]

RE: this ask

Sorry about to go off on one, gender studies and online fan culture from an academic standpoint is a special interest of mine because being film and literature student wasn't annoying enough (participatory culture studies my beloved) 

From a general standpoint, I think the reason M/M ships in fiction have always been more popular is because male characters are historically more developed and complex. I think it’s only in recent years have their been an influx of popular F/F ships, with the added development of women on screen (e.g Clarke and Lexa, Kara and Lena, Regina and Emma, Nancy and Robin) - I think there is also a point to be made this has coincided with gender expression, genderqueerness and more general knowledge of being outside the typical gender spectrum. 

I can’t explicitly say that being in M/M fandom spaces encouraged my personal discovery of being transmasc but it certainly helped to have an avenue where I could project onto these “male” characters and see myself in them. I was so uncomfortable in my own body and what I didn’t know at the time as dysphoria, I can see why I didn’t go for F/F ships. 

There are of course a lot of “fandom elders” but young (early to late teens) afab people do make up a large bulk of it and I get why  it may be easier for them to fixate on M/M ships as a, sort of method of exploring their own sexuality and gender expression. F/F ships may hit too close to home and F/M ships are what they are trying to escape from so it leaves M/M ships to project onto. Which, unfortunately then can become warped by the persons own comphet and/or binary ideas about gender. 

A male character may have more stereotypically “feminine” traits (in terms of interests or emotional reactions) and I can see why people who also have those traits would project there own insecurities onto them, reinforcing the feminisation of the male character but not being comfortable enough in your own gender expression to genderbend the character or write them as trans. 

It’s the same reason I think mafia romance, dark romance etc etc is so popular with cishet women because they can read about a fantasy where instead of the very real every day misogyny and violence they face leading to abuse, assault and death, it brings “positives” ; protected, loved, a happy relationship. 

Which, side note. I think this has A Lot to do with y/n, self insert fics becoming “cringe”. Because, I think a lot of people just want to fuck/date a character and feel like they can’t write a self insert anymore, so just project massively onto one character, leading to a lot of these issues. I don’t think Tony Stark/Peter Parker would be as popular as it is if people just let young women write their self insert fic about being Tony Stark’s sugar baby and then we wouldn’t have the wildly mischaracterised version of Peter Parker that we do! 

But, all this being said. I’m talking about fiction. Dean Winchester isn’t actually affected if people online only talk about him in a stereotypically “female” way. 

RPF is a different kettle of fish (and I’m not going in RPF ethics that’s different - I have no issues with rpf creators/consumers to be clear, I am one) because a real person does become affected. Even if you are keeping your fan works and discussions to private spaces, it can leach over into how you speak about the actual person. That’s where it becomes so incredibly important to remember that your RPF version of celebrities are just as fictional as Dean Winchester is. 

sorry I used mr. supernatural as an example, 13 year old me is still alive and kicking in my head somewhere. 

I love to hear your perspective on it with a trans worldview (and academic credentials), and I do agree that that might be a big driver of some young people only wanting to engage with MLM fic and feeling uncomfortable with WLW fic. You've brought up so many great points so I'll try and address them all.

I can add the perspective of a lesbian who was closeted for the first two decades of my life, came out less than five years ago, and still struggles on and off with comphet now. MLM fics in my teens were a way to consume queer content and relationships without having to think about the implications of enjoying consuming WLW content, and I think that's true for a lot of young closeted teens so it's no surprise that some comphet/hetnorm/cisnorm stuff bleeds through there because it's a framework the authors haven't managed to detach themselves from yet.

But yeah, I agree the issue lies with people wanting characters to be self-inserts partially so that they can experience sex, sexuality, and romance without any of the hang ups of thinking about patriarchy. And I agree with your solution: make y/n fics cool again! The ability we have to hallucinate while we read is magic! You can put YOURSELF in as a character's love interest, how cool is that?

Ultimately, yeah. There's nothing wrong with RPF as long as it isn't actually affecting the person that the RPF is based off, but I've seen a lot of takes escaping containment so to say (ie. leaving this website) with takes about the actual racers so obviously picked up through RPF. The main culprits are Charles, Lando, Max in my experience.

[sgtmickeyslaughter]

Hi! 59+107 for the trope mashup please!

helloooo thank you for asking !!

59 Miscommunication + 107 Accidental/Embarrassing/Unusual Turn Ons 

It started on their honeymoon. 

The day was beautiful, and wonderful and inconspicuously emotionally draining. Between scrambling for a venue and marrying the love of his life, Mickey felt this jarring tiredness and vulnerability at the end of the day. Instead of closing up or brushing it off, he realized he was settled comfortably in the arms of his husband and just spilled over.

If Ian knew getting married was all it took to get Mickey to actually talk to him, he would have done it when he was sixteen. Mickey told him everything; his doubts, childhood fears, self criticisms all laid out so beautifully and openly for him. 

He was asking Ian too, questions no one had ever asked. Questions that must have been mulling around for years that made him realize no one had ever wanted to know him so deeply before. 

Once Mickey’s eyes started shining, it was game over for Ian. Affection, admiration, and arousal had been building up in him since Mickey started talking, but when he began crying and staring up at Ian through dark, wet lashes Ian couldn’t help but kiss along heated skin until words turned to breathy sighs.

He didn’t think it was weird that night, obviously it was a very romantic environment, their emotions were running high. He didn’t question it during lockdown, they’d learned early on to keep things light, and as the de facto adults in the house they struggled to get time together for much more than a quick bite, a quick talk, or a quick fuck. 

It was always Liam needing help with online schooling, or one of them finding a gig that would let them make some much needed cash, or everyone needing three whole meals a day. So it didn’t come up again until they moved into the new place.

Their apartment became this place of refuge for the newlyweds. The warm radiance of the fireplace blanketed over them as Ian brought an arm around Mickey’s shoulders, rubbing firmly as he they traded stories, jokes, anecdotes. The dim glow of the range light in their kitchen softly illuminated the crests of cheeks and brows and lips as they leaned in close over a tub of ice cream at night, voices low despite not worrying about waking anyone up. 

And most importantly, the last thing they did at the end of most days was climb into bed together, laying close before they turned off the soft, blushing light of their bedside lamp. Only one, because Mickey liked to be pressed up against the wall, eyes dancing as he curled up facing Ian.

All their most private conversations ended in sex. Ian couldn’t imagine a world in which their married life became any less exiting sexually, he was just so turned on by the sheer intimacy of the life they shared together.

It was getting worse, and Mickey was getting suspicious. He started giving Ian weird looks when he got a blowjob against the kitchen table while begrudgingly folding laundry, but actually confronted him while they were talking about the first days with the new hires, propped up in bed together. 

“-And it was fine when it was just me and you figuring it out, it was fine because all we had was a stolen ambulance and the fucking Alibi brownie business. But now it’s all official and we’ve really invested in it, and now we’re bringing on employees and we have to be bosses. And I guess I’m just worried-like, how is anyone going to take me seriously as a fucking boss man?”

Ian grinned, rolling slightly so he could rub softly against Mickey’s lower belly, cooing reassurances into the skin of his neck and shoulder until he was just pressing his lips there, hand wandering lower and hips jutting-

“Okay, stop-stop, Ian cut it out” Mickey cut in urgently, sitting up further. 

“What?” Ian said, staring curiously up at him.

“I don’t want to sound like a bitch, but it’s like every time I try to y’know-talk to you, about how I’m fucking feeling you try to shut me up with sex. It’s like you’re chomping at the fucking bit to get me to stop talking so you can fucking plow me and thats fucking fine it just comes across as a little strange for you to act like you don’t even care after years of getting on me about not opening up enough.”

Ian’s stomach dropped, he couldn’t understand how Mickey had gotten it so wrong, but when he thought about it, maybe he did instigate sex a lot more in the middle of a conversation because he just got so incredibly turned on at the sound of emotion in his husbands voice. He backed up slightly, keeping a hand on Mickey’s chest but moving back so he could look him in the eye properly.

“I’m-I didn’t realize I was doing that, I - we - listen” Ian stuttered. “I don’t really know how to explain this.”

Mickey stared at him uncertainly, not bailing him out. So Ian laid back and rubbed a hand over his face, “I just love you so much, and ever since we’ve been married you’ve been so…open with me. And every time you share how you’re feeling it just proves how much you trust me and how healthy we are” Ian explained haltingly gesturing between them “and it just really, really turns me on.”

Face screwing up in confusion, Mickey’s eyes flicked back and forth and his hands frozen the air, “so you’re humping me when I tell you I’m worried about being taken seriously by our fucking employees because I…love you?”

“Yes-no! It’s, yes because we love each other, but also because we trust each other, and we confide in each other and I finally get to know everything about you because we’re fucking married.”

Mickey’s face melted slightly into something more understanding, then something a little more teasing “so you’re saying that, your super secret kink is loving married people sex?”

Ian thought about it for a second, “I have a ton of other, much cooler kinks, just to be clear. But yeah, it’s looking like that’s definitely one of them.”

To his surprise Mickey just laughed a little, leaning in to kiss his husband teasingly “you have always been such a boy-scout, Gallagher.”

Hope you liked it!

Also yes, I did take inspriation from that Scmitt and Cece scene in New Girl, iykyk ;)

[lowkeyrobin]

Hello I was wondering if you’d be able to write a Ranboo x Gender neutral reader, and they both just got into a heated argument that left them both crying (only if you’re comfortable with writing something like this, I’d not I completely understand, also thank you for your concern, I really appreciate it) :)

honestly struggled to find smthn to make an argument out of but I think I got something! oneshots are a little difficult for me bc I get burned out and I think the actions but can't find the right words LMAOOOO ; but this is totally find to request dw!! and of course, if you ever need to talk my messages are always open 🫶🫶🫶 ; also istg I have other ranboo headers they're just in my drafts bc I've only been working on reqs lately LMFAO

RANBOO ; burnout

summary ; youre both burned out and stressed, and take it out on each other

warnings ; language, fighting, reader is described/talked about as a writer, angry mischaracterization (it makes sense in context trust me)

word count ; 1.4k

masterlist

Both you and Ranboo had been working your asses off recently.

They had themselves so tied down to content creation that it was becoming a personal prison cell. It was like everything he did was only to appease his fans, and he didn't know how to just calm down and slow things down for his well being. From the constant, long streams to the talks with merch and production teams, it never ended. Plus, the infinite cycle of scrolling online to see all the hate they received, it was becoming too much.

You, on the other hand, constantly kept working and working through the lack of motivation and burnout with no breaks. No matter how much people reassured you that you could take a break and you didn't have to stick to a schedule, it didn't do anything. You were determined to fill out each and every request even if you barely had any idea what you were doing, you'd stay up late trying to block out what to write and how to put it into words to appease your followers. Three times a day, seven days a week, every day of the month, about 2000 posts a year, if you kept that up.

You were dedicated to writing, you loved it, and you loved that you were able to turn something you loved into a job considering "real" jobs didn't work out for you. You had streaming, but you only did that if you were writing or needed ideas or help every once in a while and wanted to share any progress and whatnot. Your eyes tended to be bloodshot on the regular, being pulled down by saggy, dark eyebags.

You trudge into the kitchen, taking a cold bowl of mac and cheese and some water back to your office with you. Ranboo glares at you from the couch, holding his phone to his ear as he talks to some big guy with money, most likely. He doesn't say anything, but you notice the look on his face, his eyes glaring daggers into you as you walk away.

You sit back down at your chair, not even touching your food. You stare at the screen, your eyes slightly protected by the dark mode you'd reinforced on the website. Your mind was blank, empty, vacant, muddled. There were no thoughts behind your glazed eyes.

Your head pounded in pain, caused by all the blue light absorption you'd been taking in recently. God, Ran hated that. How you'd fucking complain of a headache and only do everything to worsen it. It pissed him off. It made him want to yell at you to just shut up about it, considering you didn't want to do anything to help yourself.

You type away at the keyboard once more, every button press causing a little click or clack to immerse from it. The keys light up a particular shade of white, a smooth wave like pattern glazing across it once more. You stop again, unable to finish the sentence once more.

You groan and lean back in your seat, feeling the utter disgust around you. You oh so desperately needed to sit in the shower and cry, considering your stress and pain, but you couldn't. You needed to make these people happy, you owed them. You owed them for giving you a stable job and a roof over your head, the least you could do was have their requests out within a few days.

You sit and ponder about your partner. You were sure there was no love left anymore. Both of you were too financially dependent on one another to up and leave, so it had to work for now.

Ranboo, now not on the phone, nearly slams the door of your office open, smelling the ice cold pasta you hadn't even touched a few feet away. He's quick to raise his voice with a stern tone, pissed off at you once again.

"Dude, I told you dinner was ready an hour ago, what the fuck? And then you just bring it in here and don't even touch it just to stare at the damn screen some more? Are you fucking kidding?"

You roll your eyes, not wanting to deal with this again. "Fuck's it matter? This is my job, Ranboo"

"Your job isn't to please everyone who acts nice to you. Your job is to write quality content and not complain about burning yourself out or headaches that you could easily solve by touching grass! Go outside, this isn't even a job. You don't do anything other than write some stupid fantasy all day and feed into people's delusions, Y/n!" He quickly rants, scoffing at the end.

"Holy shit, you're one to talk! Meh meh, meh, I'm so miserable, and I do all these long streams for my fans, and I treat my partner like shit because I never spend time with them and enable their unhealthy behaviors! I take out my anger on them because I'm a lonely asshole." You quickly spit back, standing up from your chair.

They scoff, stepping towards you a bit, "You're so pathetic, I never want to hear you come to me with your problems again. You're dependent on me. You barely get any money off of that, let alone any to pay rent or buy your own groceries. Get into the real world where talking to fancy businessmen and actually working for your money is all you do! Walk in my shoes for one day!"

You roll your eyes again and scoff, "You don't think this is an actual job? I could say the same to you! You play video games all fucking day and beg for Twitch subs! Just because you have a fancy merch line and have some stupid show you're working on doesn't make you all high and mighty and more important than anyone else!"

"It does, actually, you have no room to complain! If you need a break, you can go take it. My schedule is busy every hour of the day, I have no time to do shit! You're an overbearing, selfish asshole!"

Now that got the waterworks going, that's what got you beyond the point of just petty arguing to genuinely fighting. You have no room to complain, yet you spend all day just trying to make people happy and not hate you, to just pump content out and pretend like you're okay. You bottle up your emotions so he won't have to worry about you, yet you're overbearing and selfish.

"You are such a fucking asshole! Everything needs to be about you, doesn't it? Every single fucking thing in the world, huh? Fine, screw you" You turn to grab the bowl of food, and quickly, out of sheer anger, throw it at him, shattering the ceramic bowl. "I hope I never see you again, go fuck yourself. You don't deserve shit of what you have, your platform, your friends, your money, anything. I hope your whole online empire comes crumbling down and you're left with nothing"

You snatch up your phone, wallet, and keys, quickly stomping past him as tears drip down your cheeks. He stands there, appalled as tears well in his glassy eyes. He tries to chase you outside once he realizes you're serious, but you'd already slammed the door so hard it might as well have fallen off the hinges. He wipes his eyes, cheeks a light red due to the sheer amount of anger he felt in the moment. He was soaked in cold mac and cheese, ruining his white hoodie.

Once the adrenaline wasn't coursing through his veins anymore, he sits himself on the kitchen floor, the cold tile against his hands being used as a grounding technique. Some ceramic dust lays on his shoes, some liquid cheese being smeared against his hoodie as he tries to use a towel to wipe the access off.

Fuck, what did he just do?

He sits in silence, rethinking the situation as tears slowly stream down his face.

He could only hope that you were safe on that bus to nowhere. That bus you used to just go anywhere but home, just to escape the horrible life you lived inside that house. The house that bound you to its walls so you couldn't escape.

You couldn't escape the pain of your popular online presence or the pain of being trapped in that house any longer. Finally, it broke, the enchantment that kept you sealed inside.

Someone had to leave, and it looked like it was going to be you this time around.

[malecius]

tagged by @xalatath!!!

putting this under a read more because it's a little long haha

1. named after anyone?

i *was* going to be named after someone, but i don't really remember whom. the names my mom had chosen ended up being too similar to some of my cousins, so in the end i was named something else.

my normie name is gabriel, so i'm technically named after a biblical angel lol

2. last time I cried?

several times yesterday over: my family; epic the musical; the game sea of stars

3. kids?

the idea is wonderful given how much i miss my daughter, but realistically i'm aware i wouldn't enjoy pregnancy in the slightest, and i'm not in a place to be able to raise a child without fucking them up.

my partner and i haven't talked about children, so i don't know what their stance on having them would be (though i'm pretty sure they wouldn't want to get pregnant either, which is fine by me) so that'll be an ongoing conversation should our feelings change

4. sports?

never played a sport long enough to care for it. i used to run and i biked way more than i do now, and i was rowing for a while too, but none of it *really* stuck

5. sarcasm?

i try not to be sarcastic because i'm unsure how my tone comes across from being autistic. i don't like sounding or being mean. i'll only be sarcastic if i can make it abundantly clear that i'm being sarcastic haha

6. first thing i notice about something?

is this meant to say "someone"? because if it is, then, in person, i usually notice people's body language. i like figuring out what makes people comfortable and tear down a wall or two

online, i notice how people talk and how they express their excitement. i am not very well-educated in the slightest but i love language and how people use it so much!!!

7. eye color?

dark brown, almost black :}

8. scary movies / happy endings?

alas i cannot do scary movies if i want to preserve my sanity as i am psychotic and can easily acquire delusions that i'm being watched. i do love a sappy good ending

9. talents?

i learned to walk by walking on the tips of my toes, so i've always been good at walking in heels haha

in terms of skills though? i've been drawing for as long as i've held a pencil. i would share more of my art but ah, the majority of it is against tumblr's TOS now

10. place of birth?

a tiny town in michoacán, méxico :}

11. hobbies?

primarily drawing! but i love a good indie video game and crocheting when i'm in the mood. sometimes i dabble in writing short stories

12. pets?

*technically* we don't have one since he's my neighbor's, but she did an awful job keeping him indoors so we take care of him now. my little idiot of a black cat, chimuelo! (named after toothless but in spanish)

13. height?

5'2 (157.48cm) if you round up. it's very important to me that you round up

14. fav school subject?

i've always liked english and history, but the advanced spanish classes i took in community college were some of the best learning environments i've ever been in

15. dream job?

i'm pretty lost in life right now haha so i have no idea. just being able to stay afloat is a pretty wonderful idea right now

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not tagging anyone, but if you haven't done this yet and see this, then you're tagged!!! :}

[astoldbyaja]

Bark like you want it! -Ch. 8~AU Demon Slayer~

And bounce I did. I felt Kyojuro’s cock twitch inside me as I bounced my body rough and hard on him. I was a twenty-two-year-old college student, I never said I made good decisions. The room was filled with pants and moans as Kyojuro’s grip on my hips tightened.

“Fuck just like that, don’t stop! Don’t stop!” he moaned bucking his hips up inside me at a savage pace. My head fell back as I ground my hips into him hard. Fuck he felt amazing. I feel his body sit up and he leans in sinking his teeth lightly into my left nipple. My body bucked hard as his tongue rolled around my sensitive bud. My arms locked around him feeling my body on fire.

“God!” I cried out as we kept moving together.

“Fuck you’re squeezing me real tight Yara! I was hoping to pull out, but I don’t think your pussy will let me!” he moaned out. He pushed me back onto my bed and leaned up, throwing my leg over his shoulder and pistoning into me. I gripped the sheets in a vice grip. He was so deep. “Shit I don’t think I’d ever pull out anyways.”

His breathing was ragged, and I looked up at him with cloudy eyes.

“The fuck you mean -aah!” I cry out feeling my body moving up and down with his thrusts. I noticed the dark look in his eyes as he stared down at me almost like he was looking into my soul.

“I’ll keep ravaging your body, coating your puffy walls with my cum over and over until you realize that you belong to me!” he snapped his mouth coming to take my toes into his mouth sucking and rolling his tongue over my digits. I groan feeling my body tremble from his words.

“Kyo- please! Don’t talk like that!” I beg. Not only did his words arouse me, but I was also refusing to see it further than just pillow talk. I won’t give myself to one man!

“Why not? Do my words turn you on more? Your pussy is gushing now! I think you want me to keep claiming you!” he pants raggedly, his hip movements became ragged faltering some and his eyes shut tight. “I’m gonna cum.” I whimpered at his words burying my face into the blankets. I feel his fingers come to run sloppy circles around my clit. I yelled out blissfully as the jolts of electricity vibrated through my stomach and into my body. Our moans combined and grew more needy together until Kyojuro finally pushed himself deep into me, holding himself there as he came hard. I felt my walls begin to clench and suction.

“Yeah, that’s right, milk my dick. Take it all.” he said roughly in my ear. He gently humped against me riding out orgasms until he finally collapsed on me. We fell asleep with our heads at the foot of the bed, our own body warmth keeping us comfortable. When I awoke the next morning, my eyes connected with Kyojuro’s skin as he held me close. I let out a breathy sigh.

“Fuck…”

The weekend was spent with all of Kyojuro’s friends coming over and hanging out. I felt suffocated by them since they wanted me to hang out with them as well. I felt it would make things too awkward if I decided to just distance myself now. It was best to wait until school started.

I went to our school’s student service lounge where those who were in student housing went to pay bills or ask for help. I approached the young man at the desk.

“Hi. I was wanting some information about changing to a new student apartment?” I asked. The boy pushed his glasses to his face.

“Okay so usually, our policy is if you want to swap apartments you have to wait until the new semester.” he said. I winced.

“What if it’s an emergency. Something is going on with my roommates?” I asked. I felt a pang of guilt making it seem like Shinobu and Mitsuri were the problem. The boy nodded.

“If that the case, you can go online and submit an urgent student transfer request.” he said moving to write some information on a piece of a paper and hand it to me. “This is where you can go on our student portal to fill it out. Someone will reach out to you in two to three business days about the transition.”

I nod in thanks and turn moving down the hall and tucking the piece of paper in my pocket. As I made my way down the hall, I suddenly feel a soft slender hand snap over my mouth and before I know it I’m pulled inside one of the study lounges. The door is closed and I look over to see Makio and Suma holding my arms and Hinatsuru’s hand slid off my neck. But what really freaked me out was Tengen sitting across the room in the dark like a damn bond villain.

“What the hell, guys! You scared me half to death!” I replied only to feel Makio’s hand roam over my body as if patting me down. “Hey! What the hell!”

Her hands distracted me from Suma’s hand in my pocket which made me gasp as she pulled the note from my pocket. She moved over to Tengen and handed him the paper. I winced as theremaining girls stepped away from me.

Tengen took the paper and looked at it before he leaned forward with a smirk standing up and approaching.

“Thanks girls. Why don’t you give me and Yara a moment alone so we can talk.” he said. The three women smile and each one pecks him on the lips before leaving. I watched in confusion as Tengen now approached looming over me, his hand crumbling up the piece of paper. I was tense at the motion and look up at him as he looked at me with almost disappointment.

“You’re trying to move out of your apartment, Yara? That doesn’t seem like you. Did you and Shinobu and Mitsuri get into a fight?” he questioned. This guy knew nothing about me! I just cleared my throat and looked away not liking his large stature looming over me

“It’s none of your business Tengen.” I said. I feel his hand grip my cheek and force me to look at him.

“Oh? It’s my business when our girls are fighting to the point you want to move out” he said. I wince against his hold trying to push his chest off me.

“Who do you think you are! Let me go or I’ll scream-” I then feel a tight hand around my throat, and I gasp, my entire body freezing up as his dark eyes loomed into mine.

“I assure you screaming will not help you in this case.” he said darkly. Now fear spread over my face and before I knew it, I was face down into the table with his hand firmly on the back of my neck. I whimpered feeling completely paralyzed under the strength of his hand. I feel his other hand on my hip raising my bottom up. “So here’s how it’s going to go? You’re going to answer my question and the longer you take to do so, the more things I’m going to do to you.”

“What- aah” I yelped as I felt his hand smack my right ass cheek.

“I like the way you moan Yara…” he said. Oh I know he was not doing this right now! I feel his hand move around to the front of my pants, unbutton them and unzip them.

“Tengen stop!” I said in panic as his hands begin to pull them down. Suddenly the door opens, and I gasp, wondering who was coming in.

“Oh, good we’re right on time.” Obanai?

My chest tightens as I notice Obanai and Giyu moving around the table, and I shiver hard.

“Wouldn’t want to miss the interrogation.” Giyu said. Was that excitement in his eyes. It was brief but I definitely saw it. I feel Tengen’s hands gently began to rub over my now semi bare ass cheek. It was gentle and sensual.

“Listen Yara, we care about Kyojuro and we know he cares about you. It just seems you need some convincing that we all care about you too.” Tengen said warmly.

“You can’t be serious.” I whispered.

“Like I said… the longer you take to answer my questions the more things I’m going to do to you.” He reminded.

This isn’t happening… THIS ISN’T FUCKING HAPPENING!

----------

Author's notes

I'm trying to decide if i should hold back in the next chapter or just rip the bandaid off and go all out.

Taglist

@nousija

[sewer-freak]

LONG ASS MESSAGE WARNING!!!! I have Things to Share! You've not been super online lately so I've complied sum shit that may be of interest to you.

(turning off my pink text bc normal text is easier on the eyes for big messages likethis)

I've Accepted that my instinctive feelings toward your buddy Cain are. Different from yours and uhhhuhhhhh usually try not to make Too big a thing of it. (TBH, I get an instinctive bad vibe from. Most people. So that on its own isn't enough to go off of anyway.)

however!!!! I have reason to believe that he is The Kiwi Creep. (<- I gave him a name like they do for prolific killers)

Firstly, I present to you: These posts! I'm not a huge fan of this girl's either, but it is super useful that people just confess their dark incriminating secrets to her sometimes.

https://www.tumblr.com/heavensentofficial/757394760772337664/everything-is-alright-yes-its-just-not?source=share

https://www.tumblr.com/heavensentofficial/757737395132186624/apologies-for-the-late-acknowledgment-thank-you?source=share

(The second one has confirmation that this the same person that's been harassing you!)

"Anyway, I’ve been intentionally misleading people. Or, one particular person.

She’s someone I truly hold dear and appreciate, yet I’ve been anonymously sending her sadistic, lewd fantasies I have about her. They make her scared and uncomfortable, but every time I send them, she comes to me for help. …Without knowing it’s me."

"I can’t keep up the act anymore, I feel as if everything’s blurring together. I’m hurting her. Yet I’m the person she seeks comfort from. She’s coming to the very person who’s causing her issues in the first place and she has no idea."

Sound familiar???

I find it interesting too that The Kiwi Creep instead of going to Cain like you suggested went to this totally uninvolved person! (Kind of like how you never see Batman and Bruce Wayne in the same room!)

Coincidence? I for one think not!

If this isn't enough, he recently announced he'd be going on break.

https://www.tumblr.com/divinetouchdown/757916668887515136/hello-all-i-have-an-important-announcement-to?source=share

To do what? To handle an issue offline with higher ups at the temple. Guess he decided the coal-walking wasn't enough...

I don't usually go there anymore bc the local temple is built on abuse, puritanical hypocrisy and stuffing people into nasty, hard to clean chastity devices, but because I wanted to get to the bottom of this, I dressed up as Edin, who he'd trust, to see if I could get footage of him doing the things The Kiwi Creep said he'd do. I have some videos I can send you in DMs if you want em.

To top it all off, I got an account of his character from someone else that knows him.

https://www.tumblr.com/poorsadorphanposting/757925978181943296/hi-hi-%CB%86%E1%97%9C%CB%86-i-hear-youve-talked-to-one-mr?source=share

I personally think it's pretty fucking damning but you ofc are free to reach your own conclusions.

Anywayz I hope you're alright n I know this ask is probably kind of overwhelming gihfuoji;kl ... Idk if putting it all out there like this is even helpful but I feel Strongly about The Truth being important. Feel free 2 take your time n figure out how you feel about this info n stuff idfk

hi. yea sorry idont have a good consept of timr. im mot on here alot. immrlyy truing to thnk words but its hard. id o not feel well.

i also get bad vibes feom everyone but idk idk cain i felt like. like he proved hilmself to me like he was different he said he was and he was but ffXKKNG KIWI SAID HE WAS DIFFERTN AND FHAT IF I KNEW WHO HE WAS I wouldd dhnage my tone oh nnyhod im going to be sick

wwwhhatt do yiu mean “shes comjing tothe bery peraon who is causing her jssues” hes so nice why WHYDO I MAKE EVERYUONE WANT TO HURT ME?! clearly he doesnt eant to feel like that he told me it frustrated him and hedidnt know what to so with the feelings i provoked him i always dducking do this i shojldnt interact with anyone evwer

ii i i dont kniw alot about the temple 8 only know whathes told me .,,, i thought he wpuld twll me to join but he neverdid it was alwaays more like “come to me with ur issues i can fix them!” idk idk idk

can

can you send me the vjdeos

i fffrll so horrible idont know what to do