#i will be at work all day but we will see what i get done in the evening!

[rebelfell]

rub one out┃(for your viewing pleasure-verse)

pornstar!eddie x director!reader

a cheeky (pun intended) bit of filth based on part of my blurb series. I was trying to keep the snippets short, but this just kinda poured out of me over the past couple days.

cw: sex work, simulated adultery, oral (fem receiving)

18+, MDNI┃2.8k

Maybe this was a bad idea.

You couldn’t escape the nagging thought as you stepped outside, tightening the belt on your fluffy white bathrobe, tugging at the terrycloth tail and twisting it in your fingers. Your eyes flitted to each member of your crew, all of them in position waiting to get this show on the road.

Why were you so nervous? You’d certainly done this enough times before not to get stage fright. So why did your stomach feel more tangled than the box of electrical cords in Lenny’s truck?

Part of you almost wished it would rain, or the ground would open up and swallow you whole so you didn’t have to go through with this. But the concrete remained solid under your feet, and the sky overhead showed no signs of altering its radiant blue color. Perfect.

It’s gonna be fine, you thought in an attempt to soothe yourself. It’s all gonna be fine.

And you almost believed it would be.

Sammy, who was barely a step up from an intern, had swiftly been promoted once the plan for you to replace your no-show leading lady was set in motion. You weren’t worried about her, though—she was smart and a quick study; she knew all the shots you needed, and she had a good eye.

If you couldn’t be behind the camera yourself, she was pretty much the only one you trusted.

Well…maybe not the only one.

Eddie’s eyes met yours as soon as you stepped out of the trailer. The sunlight hit his deep brown irises, making them glow the color of rich honey. But behind the liquid gold, you could see his own nerves and it made your stomach flip, wondering what he could possibly be nervous about.

“Hey,” he said quietly as he came up next to you. “You good?”

For a moment, you considered lying. Flashing him a thumbs up or shooting him finger guns like one of those tools you used to do this with. But you knew better by now when it came to Eddie.

“Nope,” you chuckled. “I’m kinda shitting myself.”

“Well, that’s just what the guy about to fuck you wants to hear,” he chuckled back.

A real smile breaks through your tense, fake one and a genuine laugh bubbles up out of your chest. Eddie’s eyes shine when he hears it and the sight makes your chest feel all warm inside.

“No, you’re right,” you said. “I’m okay, I just…don’t know why I’m so nervous.”

His plush pink lips pressed into a straight line, his tongue poking out as he licked them. He reached out a reassuring hand and placed it on your shoulder, rubbing it through your robe.

“You’re gonna be great,” he assured, sounding a lot more certain than you felt.

Easy for him to say. He’s a fucking natural.

Even on your best day doing this, you never felt like you were great at it—competent, sure. Maybe even above average. But not great. Not at all the way you felt since getting behind the camera.

You nodded tightly, your hesitation still written all over your face. His eyes scanned over you and he swallowed thickly, his throat bobbing. He then leaned in and placed his lips beside your ear.

“You look…really beautiful,” he said.

His warm breath rushed across your neck, the heat coming off his skin making your ears buzz. An explosion of fluttering began in your stomach, like there were butterfly cocoons in your cereal that morning and now they were all hatching.

“We should get moving,” you said, pulling back. “Burning daylight.”

Eddie straightened. He nodded and you nodded back, sliding past him to do final checks before you started rolling. Telling yourself he must have pumped or popped a Viagra to explain away that bulge in his pants that definitely wasn’t there before he came over to talk to you.

The nerves didn’t disappear once you started working, but your body and brain did snap into a kind of performance mode you remembered well.

You started with some still photography for the VHS box art—shots of you in progressing states of undress, your robe dropping off your shoulder, Eddie pulling it open to reveal your body, his hand running up your thigh in a slow caress.

He let it trail all the way up your stomach and chest until he curled his finger under your chin and tipped your face toward his, letting his lips hover just inches away from yours. Your eyes fluttered closed and your heart raced, thinking he might close the gap and actually kiss you—

But after the shutter snapped, he simply let his hand drop and backed away. 

The loss of his body heat sent a chill down your spine and you shivered despite the blazing sun overhead. Eddie’s eyes caught yours, the nearly imperceptible lift of his brow asking, ‘you okay?’ You nodded and another shiver skittered across your skin as you pulled your robe back up.

For the next shot, you climbed up on the massage table and he got into position behind you. His body pressed yours down, your back arching under him as he dipped his head low to take the lobe of your ear between his teeth, palming your exposed breast with his large, strong hand. 

You let your mouth hang open, not even needing to fake the look of desperation on your face. And let yourself believe Eddie’s excitement you could feel digging into the fat of your ass was real too. The little grunts and whines he let out when you wriggled against him certainly didn’t sound fake.

After the photos, there was nothing left to do but move on to the main event. 

You and Eddie reset—him standing in frame, you just outside of it. Sammy panned the camera around, establishing the setting, zooming in on the fountain feature in the pool and then coming around to film Eddie as he snapped a fresh towel and laid it out on the massage table.

From your spot off-camera, it’s impossible not to be mesmerized by the sight. Biceps rippling, tendons in his arms flexing as he smoothed the towel flat. His tattoos stood out even more than normal with him in white slacks and a white polo meant to give the impression of him being an employee of the resort. And the little twist your hair and make-up girl Jael did is something new that only further accentuates the thick column of his neck and his angular jaw.

He’d left off his rings and bracelets, as was typical when he was filming, and you couldn’t help but think about that day in the editing suite. When he’d touched your knee, and you felt the silver ridges press into your flesh. It had jarred you somewhat, how right it felt to have his hand there and how you’d nearly leaned in to meet his lips when you saw his face getting closer.

You hadn’t kissed him that day—promptly removing yourself from temptation in an attempt to salvage some shred of your professionalism. And you (mostly) felt good about that decision. It would have been reckless and destructive and your entire working relationship might have been compromised. You’d made the right call that day, you were sure of it. Mostly…

But today was different. Today, it wasn’t going to derail your career. If anything, your career was mandating you give in to those urges that had plagued you so relentlessly. And that was when it hit you all at once—the realization about as subtle as a train crashing through a wall.

You were going to fuck Eddie.

You’re going to feel firsthand what it’s like to have his face and cock buried between your legs; what it’s like to suck on his fingers and soak them with your spit before he presses them to your clit; what he sounds like when he comes all over your stomach or tits (you can’t quite recall what the script specifies, you just know it’s meant to be outside so he can dotingly clean you up after). 

The barrage of thoughts that storm through your mind are so consuming, you nearly miss your cue to enter the scene. But once you do, you’re rather grateful for the distraction of the set-up dialogue:

“It’ll just be me, today. My husband has a meeting he couldn’t get out of.”

“No, no, it’s not his fault. I got it as a surprise for our anniversary—I should have known better than to book it without checking his schedule.”

“I’m afraid I never know how much to take off for a massage…what do you suggest?”

Eddie answered your last question with a smooth, “Whatever makes you most comfortable,” and a smile so warm it would melt the ice caps.

Giving him a smile of your own, you slowly pulled at the tie of your robe. It fell to the ground in a heap at your feet and Eddie’s dark eyes roved over you hungrily. Now revealed to be completely naked, you feigned some degree of shyness: ducking your head low, looking up at him from underneath your lashes, brushing your hand over your stomach as though to hide it while really drawing his eyes to its plush softness.

“Is this alright?” you asked him with a coy smirk. Eddie grinned, still drinking you in.

“Absolutely,” he breathed. And the raptness in his eyes almost had you believing him.

You took your time getting up on the table, propping yourself up on all fours, letting him (and the camera) take a good, long look at the fullness of your hips before you settled in place. Arms at your side, you took a deep breath as you laid flat on your stomach, relieved there wouldn’t be much dialogue needed for this next part.

Through the little donut headrest at the end of the table, you saw Sammy’s feet as she moved in close—filming tight on Eddie’s hands while he pumped massage oil onto them and warmed it by spreading it between his palms.

Your chest tightened, nerves coiling in your stomach as you anticipated his touch, forcing your body to keep still so you didn’t pull focus.

He smoothed some oil over your skin, starting at the ankles and thoroughly coating your calves. The smell of clary sage filled the air, earthy and warm. And underneath it, a clean and woodsy scent you recognized as Eddie’s soap wafted up to your nose when he leaned in closer.

His fingertips began to knead your muscles, slipping and sliding easily over your skin that was slick with the oil. He made tiny circles with his thumbs, alternating back and forth as they moved in a steady pattern up your calf.

Oh, that’s right…

In all the hubbub, you’d forgotten the whole concept for this shoot was borne on the fact that Eddie went to massage school for real. He’d told you before, after he left his hometown (shit, what was it again? Hawk-something…) that he started collecting different jobs like merit badges.

Just bounced from thing to thing, trying his hand (sometimes both) at whatever life presented. And that included porn. He’d said he only auditioned for that first film he did because someone he’d slept with a handful of times knew a casting director and suggested he’d be good at it.

“He certainly had the dick for it” were her exact words, if you recalled. Strange to think in a way, you might owe that girl your career.

Through the pleasurable haze your mind dipped into having Eddie’s capable hands erasing every ounce of stress you carried in your muscles, you realized he was moving the scene right along while you just lay there humming and moaning with relief at his practiced touch.

He’d lowered his voice to that deep, rumbly register he always used when he was building towards the next phase. His DM voice, as he so affectionately dubbed it. Rough and gravely, yet even and tempered, guiding both you and the audience along on the journey of this fuck.

“I hope you don’t mind me saying…but your husband’s a jackass for missings out on this.”

Your heartbeat picked up in your chest as he moved to your thighs. His fingertips dug into your flesh, kneading it like dough, letting his thumbs swerve dangerously close to your center.

“You deserve someone who puts you first…who knows what he has and worships you…”

One of his thumbs swiped briefly over your puffy lips, and you knew he felt how wet you were.

“You know, I’d never let you out of my sight if you were mine…”

His words dripped slowly and intentionally past his lips, his hands creeping higher and higher up your legs. At last, they slid over the globes of your ass and he groaned as he squeezed one in each hand, spreading you apart to see your center, soaked with arousal that had been pooling there, truth be told, from the moment Eddie had told you how beautiful you looked. 

You heard Eddie’s next line in your head before he said it, “If you really want to relax, I can try a very special technique. I don’t do it for just anyone. It’s a little bit…unorthodox…”

And you were more than ready to take him up on his offer once he delivered the line. 

But Eddie went off script.

Instead of hearing words, you felt the wet heat of his tongue glide through your folds as he buried his face between your spread ass cheeks. Your head popped out of the headrest, letting out a breathy moan of surprise and delight.

The shock on your face was evident as Sammy pushed in close to capture your expression, but so was your pure and utter elation. You’d never felt anything so good in your life…

And it seemed you weren’t the only one.

Eddie groaned loudly as he lapped messily at your folds, his spit mixing with your slick that covered the bottom half of his face. And it was only after a few blissful seconds of eager licking that he even realize what he’d done.

“I’m—mmph—sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry—” He panted out in between sinful swirls of his tongue, his he words muffled by your ass cheeks because he couldn’t stand to pull away even a little, even long enough to speak. “I had to taste you…”

”It’s okay,” you answered, voice already wrecked beyond belief. “It’s okay, just keep going—”

The command is directed at him as much as it is the crew, who only panicked slightly. Eddie never did stuff like this and they just weren’t ready.

They got back on track quickly enough, Sammy signaling the boom mic to get as close as he can without dipping into frame in order to pick up every lurid slurp and suck of Eddie’s mouth.

After no more than a few minutes, the fluffy towel under you was bunched in your fists and your hips squirmed as Eddie continued to eat you out like a mad man. His tight grip on your ass cheeks held fast, spreading you wider still so his tongue could probe deeper. The sounds he pulled out of you didn’t even sound human to your ears, let alone recognizable as your own voice. 

But you didn’t care.

However you sounded, however you looked, it was superfluous to what Eddie was doing and the precipice he brought you to. Your orgasm hit harder than any drug, than any physical blow. It had you shaking uncontrollably, reaching back to grip the hair at the crown of his head as your hips pushed back to meet every thrust of his tongue while you rode out your exceptional high.

You felt its tingling sensation spread to every inconsequential inch of your body, like an ocean of fire that crashed over you in wave after wave of scorching pleasure. Drowning you in it.

When you finally found the strength in your limp limbs to roll over onto your back, Eddie’s eyes were waiting to meet yours. You could see on his face how sorry he was, how worried he was he’d fucked up. And you tried to communicate with him in that mind-melding, wordless sort of way you and he always did that it was fine—that people were going to love it.

Cocking your brow at him, dipping into a more salacious tone to really sell the transformation from demure housewife to lusty adulterer, you threw in a little adlib of your own.

“That’s some technique you’ve got there,” you teased him, propping yourself up on your elbows. “My husband’s certainly never done that before.”

Eddie’s sly smile returned, his lips curling as he reached out to grip your waist. He hauled you closer with one jerk, bringing you to the edge of the table so your hips were flush with his. The bulge in his white pants was harder than ever when it pressed against your cunt, and he grinned wickedly when he felt just how ready you were for more. He yanked up the shirttail of his polo and whipped it off his body, tossing it behind him where it landed half in the pool.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he tutted softly, “you ain’t seen nothing yet.”

Tysm for reading! 🛸 comments and reblogs keep your skin clear and your crops watered 🫶🏻

[batmanlovesnirvana]

Money in massive amounts is never clean.

To amass a certain level of wealth, there’s inevitably a little blood on your hands. That's why I prefer the Wayne family with a touch of moral ambiguity—keeps things interesting.

Sure, we can say Thomas Wayne was a good guy (I mean, "good billionaire" sounds like an oxymoron, but I’ll let it slide since he's fictional). He’s a surgeon, sometimes a co-CEO, and in some versions, he even takes a shot at being mayor. But let's be real—his wealth didn’t come from rainbows and fairy dust.

No, the Wayne fortune wasn’t built on saving puppies and planting trees. Somewhere in the family history, there’s probably a dark corner filled with skeletons, or you know, a handful of emerald mines for exemple. I wouldn't be shocked if Thomas's great-great-grandfather named a labor camp after his wife—romantic, right? Sweet sentiment aside, you don’t just wake up one day swimming in billions without a few questionable "business decisions" sprinkled in.

Yeah, the Waynes are old money, but we’re talking about billions—like "richer-than-Queen-Elizabeth" money. Battinson alone is worth what, 9.2 billion? And in the comics? Bruce is probably a trillionaire, and that fortune didn’t just materialize from charitable bake sales.

You can’t convince me that all of the Wayne money is squeaky clean. Even if Bruce himself isn’t aware of it, some of that fortune likely came from, oh I don’t know, oil deals that were less "above board" and more "we took it from the Middle East." Because, like I said, you don’t build an empire like the Waynes’ without some shady dealings. Let’s face it, billionaires don't get to that level of wealth by being saints.

Now with the new Penguin series, we’re about to see how wealth is really made—without the rose-tinted glasses. Sure, Oswald Cobblepot is a mobster and criminal, but money is money. You can work hard, play by the rules, and become a millionaire—that’s fair, that’s normal. But billionaires? I guarantee you they’ve done worse than Penguin to reach their fortune.

Fictional or not, it makes for a more grounded and realistic Gotham and I do hope Reeves will explore this idea.

In Nolan’s trilogy, we had the shiny, perfect Thomas Wayne and his oh-so-virtuous family, but we never really dug into how the Waynes probably weren’t doing great things for, you know, the rest of the world.

In the Snyderverse, we got that backstory about the Waynes being hunters and building their fortune by selling furs to the French, if I remember right—but still. You don’t become that filthy rich by just selling that.

We always pin the morally questionable label on the Kanes or the Arkhams (Martha Wayne's family), but the Waynes? They’re consistently portrayed as Gotham’s golden dynasty.

Anyway, that’s my ramble for the day.

[hyunebunx]

Wow I’m stupid I pressed send way too fast 🩵 with Lee Know??

˖˙ ᰋ ── 🩵 - kissing in the rain with Minho

﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. genre: a teeny tiny amount of angst but it has a happy ending

﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. a/n: thank you sm for requesting!!! <3 i had soo many ways of writing this in my head that i struggled lol. i really hope you like what i came up with. it's loosely (very) based on the rain scene in pride and prejudice so enjoy!! <33

Arguments were not a usual occurrence in your relationship. Most of the time you managed to settle any disagreement before it could escalate to such heights, the perfectly communicating couple all of your friends couldn’t help but feel a little envious of.

Now was not one of those times; your stress and emotions were getting the best of both you and Minho in the most unpleasant way. You hated arguing with him, getting angry and unable to see the other’s point of view, clouded by the desire to be right and make each other understand where you were coming from.

“You don’t get it.” Minho shakes his head with a sigh, forearms resting on the wheel as the rain poured outside your safe haven, hitting the windshield at an alarming pace and preventing you from seeing anything, even with the headlights on.

“Explain it to me, then!” You bite back, body facing his in the heated passenger seat that was keeping you warm and cozy despite the chill outside. Even when arguing you could admit Minho was the most considerate person alive – you didn’t ask him to turn on the heat, he must have done it when he noticed you trembling like a leaf after getting in.

He surprised you after work, dropping by and driving directly to one of your favorite restaurants just in time for dinner and a well deserved date night. Everything was perfect, the location, the food, and especially the company, laughing and having a great time with the love of your life.

Until things turned sour on your drive home, and what started as a silly disagreement turned into a full-on argument about something you didn’t find significant enough even to remember.

“That’s what I’ve been doing for the past ten minutes but it seems you don’t want to listen!”

You’ve been walking (or driving) in circles, with him getting frustrated and you following right on his tail until the car came to a stop right in front of your apartment building.

It’s not like you didn’t want to listen or care to hear him out, it’s just that Minho seemed to make something out of nothing, insisting and pushing forth the same idea like you were nothing more than a child who lacked basic comprehension. It was frustrating and exhausting, especially after the long day you’ve had.

“Min, I’ve been listening.” You try to smooth things over, warm hand landing on his thigh comfortingly. “Just because I’m not giving you the answers you want doesn’t mean I’m not hearing you.”

Minho remains silent, head turned the other way to stare out the window and not acknowledge your presence. When the silence stretches on, you give up with a sigh and retract your hand, reaching for your purse in the backseat and opening the car door in the same breath.

“What are you – “ You close it right before he can finish the sentence, set on getting inside with or without him to finally take the bubble bath you’ve been daydreaming about all day at work.

“Kitten!” His voice follows a moment later, the sound of the car door slamming louder than him amongst the deafening rain. “Y/n!”

Despite yourself and the insanity of spending even one more minute in this storm, you stop and allow him to catch up, not protesting as his warm hands land on your shoulders and turn you around almost desperately.

“Where are you going? We are not done talking.” He states, dark hair and clothes getting soaked at an alarming pace as the rain spares neither of you.

“But I am!” You exhale, the chill settling into your bones. “We won’t reach an agreement like this so let’s just stop!”

His eyes widen as he pulls you closer, chest to chest, figures illuminated by the bright headlights almost blinding. “Baby, wait – “

“I hate fighting with you, Min.” Without meaning to, you interrupt him once again, reaching up to cup his face and drag him closer. “I’m sorry, okay? We can talk this over calmly inside after we cool down. Just not like this, please, I can’t do it anymore.”

He nods instantly, agreeing without a doubt and most likely seeing his faults too, and not only yours. Then, when you expect him to let go and finally follow you in, Minho surprises you the second time tonight by leaning over and connecting your lips in a kiss full of passion and love, reminding you once again that the heart in his chest beats first and foremost for you. His upper limbs cling to your body just like your clothes, hugging you tightly while your hands squeeze his face affectionately, a smile sneaking past and pulling one from him as well, on the verge of beaming into the kiss.

The rain seems to disappear, the cold too, like you weren’t bothered by either in the first place. Minho has that effect on you, helping you see the good in every situation. Sure, the location was not ideal – nothing could be less romantic than a barely lit parking lot – but as always, the company mattered more. And the message he was trying to send. When words failed you, actions worked better, speaking louder and getting your point across without much effort.

Sure, the argument wasn’t resolved but you both managed to make the other understand what mattered the most. You might be disagreeing now, momentarily stuck in a small pothole along the way, but you still loved each other, you would get over it and be okay in the end.

Because that’s what true love meant. Getting through things together and continuing to walk down your joined paths, hand in hand, no matter how many potholes or rough patches you encounter. A small setback won’t ever erase your feelings for each other, or make you forget all the beautiful moments you’ve shared.

And maybe, just maybe, a kiss was all you needed to finally understand Minho’s point when you sat down and resolved things that night. He, on the other hand, needed a few more to be satisfied.

[sunflowerreid]

Request for a Spencer smut where y/n gets handy under the table while out for drinks with the team after getting back from a case

“Please not now”

Timing - S.R

Warnings: Edging, sub!Spencer, Handjob, Public sex (Kind of)

There are many things you could never get tired of, the deliciously jammy doughnuts from the cafe by yours and Spencer’s apartment, the sounds of the birds first thing in the morning as the sunlight creeps through the shades, the smile on Spencer’s face as he rambles on about something he’s passionate about. But the one thing you know you love the most is the way Spencer squirms. Whether it’s down to your hands touching him in a particularly sensitive spot or when you maintain eye contact across the room while licking a lollipop in a completely innocent manner. You absolutely loved making him squirm. Having been denied this simple pleasure for 4 whole days due to sleeping in different rooms while on a case and having to maintain professional you were dying to get your hands on him.

However, there was one problem, well actually there were six problems, all sat around the table separating you both. After solving a challenging case you’d all agreed to celebrate at your normal bar. You absolutely adore your team with all of your heart but with Spencer sat across from you giggling at a joke Garcia had mentioned, the temptation was beginning to override your common senses. No one could blame you, you had your gorgeous man in front of you causing your thighs to press together, underwear ruined once again. You had to do something about it, the throbbing was becoming too much. Suddenly remembering what had happened earlier that day, the way Spencer had deliberately brushed up against you, pressing his crotch subtly against yours while grinning cheekily. That was enough cause for you to grin to yourself, a wicked idea coming to mind.

You smirked at him from across the table, making eye contact with him as you lifted up your leg, heel slowly brushing up his leg. His eyes widened slightly catching on to your plan as your heel got higher and higher teasingly brushing up his thigh towards his crotch, you knew that look ‘Please not now’. He stiffened up slightly, eyes glossing over as his cheeks began to flush. He squeaked quietly, jumping in his seat as your heel made contact with his growing erection. “God Reid are you drunk already” Garcia giggled next to him. “Maybe had one too many” he answered shyly. “Awww pretty boy I always knew you were a light weight” Morgan teased from across the table next to him. “Leave my boy alone, he’s perfect just as he is” you nudged Morgan, knowing the praise would get Spencer worked up. You could feel him throbbing through his trousers, a noticeable stain appearing through the fabric by the leaking tip of him. He was twitching in his seat, desperate for more friction as you continued your torturously slow pace. Everyone was too busy having conversations amongst themselves to notice what was going on, no matter how obvious Spencer was making it. He couldn’t sit still, as a moment of weakness overcame him, placing his hand on your heel to thrust up against you. You knew the look on his face, eyes rolling back slightly into his head, mouth opened slightly, cheeks flushed, eyebrows rising. He was close, a few more thrusts and he would cum in his boxers. You allowed him a few more jumpy thrusts before removing your heel from him. He groaned quietly, staring at you like you’d just ripped his favourite book apart from across the table while you maintained a conversation with Emily. You knew it was mean, cruel even. But he had to be punished for what he’d done before, he knew better.

“Right guys I’ve got to bounce” Morgan announced, blissfully unaware of an edged Spencer a few feet away. “Yeah we need to go to” you agreed, giving Spencer an out as relief washed over his face “Yeah bye guys see you soon” he whispered following you out of the bar door towards your car since you’d only had one drink, planning on driving home afterwards to save you walking back. “God Y/n so horny please, need you so bad” he whimpered approaching you from behind as you reached the car. You turned around running your hands through his curls as your lips met. “In the car baby” you ordered as he immediately rushed over to the passenger seat. He was on you as soon as you got in your side, hands desperately grabbing onto anything he could reach, “Please fuck please Y/n so hard need to cum so bad” he whimpered kissing down your neck. “Alright honey calm down I’ve got you” you reassured him gently. “Trousers off”. He scrambled back to his seat quickly undoing his belt and pulling his trousers down. He was throbbing for you, streaks of precum running down the side of him from his leaking slit. “Please y/n please” he whined thrusting up into the air. You smirked to yourself running your finger up and down his erection, barely touching him. He twitched, a spurt of precum leaking down towards his base as you finally took pity on him, wrapping your hand around his base before pumping up to his tip. “UGH FUCK YES” he moaned loudly, hips humping up towards you as his head rolled back onto the headrest. “God yes please faster, faster” he whined begging for more friction. You quickened you hand, thumb swiping over his tip after every stroke. “M’sorry gonna cum, can’t hold it, cumming ,cumming,I’M CUMMING FUCKKK” he screamed as you finally granted the relief he’d been waiting for. “That’s it honey, that’s it” you whispered, calming him down as he came down from his high, gentle murmurs from him as he buried his head into your neck, slumping over the centre of the car. “I know honey, did so good for me”. It was peaceful, calm, perfect. Well, it was. The little bubble you two were in was immediately burst the moment you made eye contact with a man leaving the bar. Your boss. Aaron Hotchner. The best profiler you have ever known, the man who knows everything. You had no idea how much he’d seen but from the eyebrow raise and slight smirk on his face you knew he knew exactly what was up. God your timing sucks, you’ll both have to work on that.

[meloyellow236]

The TWST boys write letters to Yuu/The Prefect!

All of them except for Ortho+Checka are meant to be interpreted as romantic, but many can be interpreted as platonic as well. The reader is gender-neutral, but more feminine adjectives will be used when referring to them. Rollo's part is fairly suggestive. Characters will probably be a bit OOC.

Minor spoilers for their respective books in each section, but I try to keep it as spoiler-free as I can, except for who overbloted. If anyone has any questions or comments, please leave an ask or comment :)

NRC:

Heartslabyul:  

Riddle Rosehearts - 

My dearest rose, 

You are the loveliest person I have ever known. It is a miracle that you chose to get to know me, and even more so after I hurt you and your friends so deeply. I have made many mistakes, but you, my rose, look past them. I understand that you may choose to go home one day, but even so... 

Please just give me a moment of your time, a fraction of your thoughts, and I’ll be satisfied. Any inch of you that I can get, I want, even if you still believe me a tyrant. If it pleased you- No, if it only made you look my way, I would gladly break any rule of the queen’s or my mother’s. Understand that, my rose, and I am sure you’ll know what remains unsaid in this letter. 

Yours Truly, 

Riddle Rosehearts 

Trey Clover - 

Prefect, 

Hello. I wanted to thank you, first and foremost, for helping out Heartslabyul so much. You’ve been a very good influence on Ace and Duece, and it’s nice to see Cater open up to someone. Not to mention, Riddle’s been improving every day. I can’t even describe how much you’ve helped me... I just hope you know that I’ll always be grateful for what you’ve done. You’re welcome at Heartsabyul at any time. I have some donuts waiting for you if you want. 

From, 

Trey. 

Cater Diamond - 

Prefect, 

Heyyy! Whatcha doing right now? I’m sooooo happy that you came to NRC even if, like, all of the housewarden’s tried to ratio you. I do not subscribe to that, BTW. #NotCool, #Yikes-A-Tron. But,  like... On a more serious note, I am happy that I got to know you. It’s nice to have someone I can just be myself around. No drama, no expectations, just... Yeah. I know that you’re gonna leave at some point, and it’s almost a relief. You’re honest about it, which is something that many can’t say. 

Ugh, that was probs TMI! I’m not trying to trauma dump here, oops. There’s this cute cafe that opened up downtown, totally Magicam-worthy. You wanna meet up there sometime? 

- Cay-cay ♦️  

Ace Trapolla - 

Prefect!! 

I need your help! So, Trein’s got this super hard test coming up on Friday- Like, Riddle-got-a-99-last-year level of hard. Yeah, that’s without the extra credit, but STILL! That’s failure to the tyrant! So, you’ve got to come over to Heartslabyul right now and help me study. Pleaseeeee!!!! I’ll owe you one! 

Oh, and don’t bring Grim. Deuce’s also got plans, there’s no need to ask him. You know, in case that matters to you. 

See ya, 

Ace 

Deuce Spade - 

Dear Prefect, 

Hello, how are you doing? Can you believe that it’s already been so long since we became friends? When we broke that chandelier, I was ready to never talk to you again... But now look at us! I’m on my way to becoming an honor student, and you’re working on finding your way home! I’m happy that you’re going to be able to go soon, I know how bad it feels not to be able to see your family (and probably friends in your case) after so long away, but also sad that you’ll be leaving us. 

I’ve got it! Let’s get your ghost camera, and we’ll take lots of photos of us all over campus! Two of each, so that way no matter what, both of us will always remember what we went through together. That sounds like a good idea, right? 

From, 

Duece 

Savanaclaw: 

Leona Kingscholar - 

Herbivore, 

Hey. You’re an idiot, you know that? You’re stupid and impulsive and don’t know when to quit or give up. That’s why you keep looking for me in the botanical gardens, right? You just don’t know when to stop. I’m sure that you’ll realize I’m not worth your effort soon enough. But until then, you have to come to see me more often. You’re my pillow, I don’t get good enough sleep if you’re not there. 

I’m in the usual place. Get over here as soon as possible. 

- Leona 

Ruggie Bucchi - 

Hiya, Prefect... 

I’ve been thinking, and you should let me come over to Ramshackle and fix the place up for you. No upfront cost, of course, but... I want the right to use the kitchen as I please, whenever I please. 

Why, you’re asking? Shishishi... Not telling. You’ve just got to trust me on this, I’ll make it worth your while. Then again, maybe I’ll just blow the kitchen up and you’ll have to live at Savanclaw again! That’d be fun, huh? 

If you don’t want me to, ya better give up your kitchen for a little while! I’ll get that microwave up and running again in no time.

- Ruggie 

Jack Howl - 

Dear Prefect, 

Hello, have you been feeling alright? I’ve noticed that Crowley isn’t the best provider of food. While on my morning runs, I’ve noticed Grim loudly talking about how he doesn’t have enough tuna. He does it pretty often. So, I’ve thought of a solution; You could try eating breakfast with me. I always get big portions, so you could have some. If you want, I could even try lifting you and carrying you places. I need to get better strength training anyway, and then you’ll have a buddy to get stronger with. It’s always better to have a friend with you. 

From, 

Jack 

Octavinelle: 

Azul Ashengrotto - 

My Pearl, 

Allow me to start this letter by saying that you are truly the crown jewel of my riches and that none can replace your beauty. You are the loveliest, most perfect little pearl, and I adore you with my whole heart. And yet, I cannot seem to convince myself that you feel the same. You say you do, and even if it is a crime to believe your lips hold lies, I cannot believe that to be true. If it was, why? Not just why you would tell me- A scheming man who has hurt you and your friends- that I hold the keys to your heart, but why you would choose what I hold underneath. I’m no good for you in terms of personality or how I look, and yet... You still hold me dear. And for that alone, I want to take you to the Coral Sea where my home lies, but not for a deal this time. Just... Because I want you and my mother in the same place. The two most important people to me meeting... That’s the best thing I can think of, to be honest. 

With Love, 

Azul Ashengrotto 

Jade Leech - 

Dearest Prefect, 

It has come to my attention that you haven’t had a chance to enjoy a proper mushroom dish since arriving in Twisted Wonderland. Now, that will not do for much longer. This letter should contain a box with three containers worth of mushroom dishes. You are to eat them and write back to me with what you thought of each of them. In return, I shall continue to provide you with free food. 

Do be warned, however, that they should all be eaten as fast as possible once you get them in case my brother chooses to throw them out. Also, so that way Grim cannot eat them. I would not recommend it for a cat.

Kind Regards, 

Jade Leech 

Floyd Leech - 

Shrimpy!!!!!! 

You and me. In the courtyard. Now. 

I’m going to squeeze you. 

🐬°˖𓍢✨໋ 🐋✧°.🐟⋆ 

🦐🥢🥢🥢🥢🧨 

I’ll see you later if you want me to or not. 

- Floyd <3333333 

Scarabia: 

Kalim Al-Asim - 

Hello!!!!

I love you!!! I love you, I love you, I love you! You’re the most wonderful person in this school, and you’ve done so much for both me and Jamil! It would be silly for me not to love you. I love how your hair looked in the wind when we went on that carpet ride, I love how you looked in the school’s uniform and how you looked when you tried on my dorms, and I love how you look no matter how you dress because you’re a beautiful person inside and out! I love you, and nothing can change that! (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) .ᐟ.ᐟ 

Hugs and kisses, 

Kalim Al-Asim 

P.S. Let’s go on another magic carpet ride soon, okay? I want to show you how pretty the moon looks when it’s full and you’re flying!

Jamil Viper - 

Dear Prefect,

Thank you for saving me when I overblotted. I am aware that what I did was wrong, and I apologize. I hope you can understand where I’m coming from. Either way, I feel as though I must do something more for you to show you that. Please come to Scarabia tonight. I will make you a special dinner if you do. Please, don’t tell Kalim. I want... something special, for the two of us this time. 

See you later, 

Jamil Viper

Pomefiore: 

Vil Schoenheit - 

My Dearest Potato, 

I regret to inform you that you have bewitched me. So much so that I willingly took on a role as a villain in this next movie. The villain falls in love with the hero’s love interest, and then, in a “shocking” turn of events, she chooses the villain to stand by. Of course, they’re both defeated, the hero gets with his childhood friend in some lesson of how love will always be waiting for you, whatever. But I still chose it, even if Neige plays the hero. 

I finally have a love interest, and they remind me of you. You could have stood by his side, you know. You should have. I poisoned him; That action speaks for itself. And yet, you decided to stay with me. Just like how that villain in this story gets the girl the hero originally wanted. 

I’ve won your heart as well, haven’t I? 

Sincerely, 

Vil Schoenheit 

Rook Hunt - 

Trickster, 

Bonjour, mon amour! I could not resist sending you another letter. You see my darling, I long for you like I long for the sunset on a hot day, for an oasis in a desert, for a hint of rain during the dry season, for the sun during the days when it pours. I'd imagine you'd taste like the rain as well, Trickster, and if given the chance, I'd taste again and again, in an attempt to satiate more than just my curiosity. 

Oh, Trickster, have you any idea how you’ve bewitched me? Why, just the sight of you is enough to send me spiraling, wishing for the smallest fraction of a chance that my affections are shared. How cruel is fate, to deny me the right to live and die within your arms? La petite mort would be heaven if it was with you, but death would truly come for me if it wasn’t. 

Je t'aime de tout mon coeur, 

Le Chasseur D'Armour 

Epel Felmeir - 

Prefect, 

I need some help. I found out that milk can make ya grow stronger, and also help you get taller. However, Vil has banned me from drinking it because I drank a carton in two days. Something about it raising my cholesterol or making me break out, I don’t care. So, I need to keep it at Ramshackle. That’s okay with you, right? Well, I sure hope it is, cause it’s getting in there if ya want it to or not! I’ll see ya soon, just make sure it’s in the fridge. I’ll get ya some of my family’s apple juice in return, it’ll be good. I reckon ya liked it last time. 

Epel 

Ignihyde: 

Idia Shroud - 

Prefect, 

Get to my room, and fast. There’s an event taking place, and I need a player two. This one requires another person to be in the same room, so I can’t ask any of my mutuals, and you’re the only one I trust with this. I can’t ask Ortho either, don’t ask why. 

Also I recently got pink lights in my room like those normies. That’s why everything looks kind of pink, it’s not my hair. Just in case you were wondering if I was embarrassed or whatever, you’re wrong. Just get over here ASAP, no time to waste. 

- Gloomurai 

Ortho Shroud - 

Hello, how are you? ( ˵ •̀ ᴗ •́˵) I am very happy to get a chance to talk with you. I have recently learned how to type out these little faces called ‘kaomoji’ that my big brother loves. Here are some of my favorites: 

♡✧( •⌄• ) 

ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ 

•ω• 

ᓚ₍ ^. .^₎ - This one is a cat! 

I would like to share more with you. Please come to Ignihyde so I can teach you how to get them on your phone as well. I can provide free updates while you’re here if needed. (✿˶◕‿◕˶人◕ᴗ◕✿) 

Sent To: PerfectPrefect@email.com 

Date: XX/XX/XXXX 

Return Email: orthoshroud2@email.com 

Diasomnia: 

Malleus Dracona - 

My Dearest Child Of Man, 

If Longing was painful, how much farther would I have to fall to crash and burn at your feet? The only answer I can give is that I already would have. I would build monuments in your name and would offer you the world and more if only you would say you loved me back. 

Could this be considered love? Could these feelings I hold deep within my heart, only to divulge in the darkest hours of the night with none but the stars and you to bear witness to my passion, be a form of love? Or is this simply my yearning, a longing for your heart, and wanting to have someone to call my own? 

The moment I laid eyes on you, I knew that you were the one I wanted next. How I wish I could scream your name from the rooftop, and raise my voice in song only to sing your praises. You have the face of an angel, and I am sure that you must have the mind of one as well, for even if the voices in your head remind you of nothing more than pain and suffering, they have still been able to mold you into the perfection you are today. But maybe you have devils as well, trying to smite you as you sleep, but just as I do all of your angels, I will pick them up and kiss their heads if they are a part of someone I care for so much. You are perfection, Child of Man, and this dragon wishes only to live with the crumbs of affection as my treasures. 

Yours Until The End Of Eternity, 

Prince Malleus Dracona Of Briar Valley Hornton 

Lilia Vanrouge - (Okay so for Lilia I could have SWORN that he calls the prefect ‘Beastie,’ but I can find that nowhere. Literally at all, no one seems to have used it for him, but I know that I’ve seen at least one person do it. I now think that it’s a headcanon thing but I’m not sure, if anyone knows who did this or if it’s canon, please tell me. I’ve been searching for far too long and I am in too deep.)

Beastie, 

Hello, my darling~! I have an easy-peasy little request for you, m’kay? You just need to travel over to Diasomnia, and then... I’ll make you a meal! Malleus has been out trying to find this one gargoyle on campus all day since I brought up wanting to learn a new recipe, and Sebek and Silver both ran off earlier to go help him. I don’t know how to tell them that the gargoyle they’re looking for definitely isn’t at Night Raven College. Raising kids is quite hard, especially when things like this come up... 

But you’ll be there for me, won’t you, Beastie? Pretty please? I’ll see you tonight if you want to, a little date if you feel up to it. Mwah! 

xoxo, 

Lilia 

Silver “Vanrouge” - 

Dear Prefect, 

I had the most wonderful dream. I think I did, at least. I can’t remember it, but I remember how familiar these eyes were, and I knew it was you as soon as I awoke. And I know it's true, that dreams are seldom what they seem... But if I know how you are, then I know what you'll do; You'll look at me the same way you did once upon inside my dreams. And tell me all about the animals that you found with me when I awoke. What I wouldn’t give to hear you tell me about every birdie that comes to me; I’d be willing to fall asleep in the forest every day if only to hear you cooing to the birds when I come to. I wonder if each little bird has someone to sing sweet things to, a little love melody like what I long to play for you one day. Well, either way, I’m growing sleepy now. The effects of my curse will soon be on me once more. I’ll see you either later today or tomorrow, depending on how long I’m asleep. If you need me or simply wish to keep me company, I’m currently resting in the woods. 

Best Wishes, 

Silver 

Sebek Zigvolt - 

HUMAN! 

I have something to show you; A new notebook to be filled, gifted to me by Master Lilia. He said that it is a ‘scrapbook’, which humans fill up with pictures and drawings of themselves and their friends. To fulfill the purpose of this illustrious gift, you must come to Diasomnia at once! You shall be the first of the first years to be added, along with Silver. Prepare enough of those photographs you have to fill half of the book. The other shall be dedicated to Wakasama! 

Sincerely, 

Sebek Zigvolt  

RSA+NBC: 

Che’nya - 

Prefect... 

When are you going to visit RSA, huh? It would be purrr-fect to get a chance to see you again. You’re quite the pretty purr-son, dontcha think? Or maybe I’ll just drop by at the next unbirthday party... Riddle and Trey would like that, but I wonder what you’d think. Hum-hum-hummm... 

Kitty Kisses, 

Artemiy Artemiyevich Pinker <3 

Neige Leblanche - (The Reader is called NRC’s ‘princess’ in this one, but not called a woman or anything)

My Dearest, 

Hello! How are you fairing? Have you been doing okay since the VDC? I know that you looked pretty shaken up back then, so I wanted to make sure that you’ve been okay. After all, you’re NRC’s princess! As far as I can tell, anyway. I’m happy that there’s someone around Vil like you, he always looked like he needed a good cheering up. And you’re like a fairytale! Such pretty hair and eyes and skin; Oh, I’d ride away with you on a white horse if I could! 

Ah, that’s odd to say to someone I don’t know very well, isn’t it? I’m sorry, that’s my fault. You still want to be friends, right? If you do, please come visit me at some point. Or, just send me a letter back. I’ll make sure that you get priority over any fan letter. 

Love, 

Neige Leblanche 

Rollo Flamme - (Kinda sugesstive) 

Mon Amour, 

There are times I wish I could tear you down and take you apart only to sew you back together. Rip you to shreds only to tenderly put each piece back where it should be. Drink from you until there's nothing left and then fill you up with all of the love I could offer, make you mine and mine alone. Those greedy thoughts shouldn't even make their way onto this paper, shouldn’t even be in my head, and yet here I am, penning them in a letter never to be sent. 

I truly wish you never see these letters, for I'd hate to be the reason your face turns to disgust, even if for a moment. Of course, I don't regret writing them. You will never read them, after all, but I believe I should get my thoughts out like this rather than bottle them up, lest I do something stupid and let you see them. I pray that you will never have to see me in a state like how I write to you, over my bedside table in the dead of night, eyes barely open and breath still recovering from dreams of a sweeter pleasure than I should sully your name with. 

I mention those dreams I have of you a lot, it seems, although I mean it in the most innocent way possible. Ever since I met you, you've infested my dreams and wormed your way into my heart like a parasite I can't rid myself of. My dreams are all of the sweet moments I have longed for and never gotten. I only have eyes for you, after all, and a saint may never lie with a sinner, lest they become one as well. 

Bonus: 

Checka Kingscholar - 

To Perfect, 

Hello! I am Checka Kingscholar. I am fiv years old. I like my unca. I like my dad and I love my mom. I love you! Goodbye! •ᴗ•

[libingan]

—how the tf141 are like when they’re sick.

im sick. that’s literally my only motivation to write this.

i feel like absolute shit but holy fuck i wanted to write this so pls enjoy

no horny juice rn, so its all fluff

JOHN PRICE

when price gets sick, it’s almost like he’s in denial about it. he’s the type to downplay everything—says it’s just a little cough, just a bit of a sore throat. but then, as the fever starts creeping up, you see the cracks in his usual solid demeanor. he’s flushed, his breathing a bit labored, and when you gently place the back of your hand on his forehead, he swats you away at first, grumbling that he’s fine.

“you don’t have to worry about me,” he mutters, trying to keep his voice steady. but the cough that rattles through his chest betrays him, and eventually, even he can’t deny it anymore.

you coax him into bed, tucking the blankets around his broad frame, and he grumbles under his breath about how ridiculous this all is. he’s not used to being taken care of—he’s the captain, the one in charge, and letting someone fuss over him isn’t in his nature. but there’s a moment when you bring him some tea, and he accepts it quietly, his eyes softening just a little as he watches you.

“i’ve had worse,” he rasps, his voice thick with congestion, but when you sit beside him, he leans into the warmth of your presence, even if he won’t admit it. he tries to stay in control, tries to ask about your day or if there’s any work that needs to be done, but you can see how tired he is. when he finally gives in to sleep, his hand rests loosely on yours, a silent acknowledgment that he’s glad you’re there, even if he doesn’t say it out loud.

KYLE ‘GAZ’ GARRICK

gaz is the worst when he’s sick, and he knows it. he tries to be strong about it, but the minute the fever sets in, he’s a mess of sniffles, groans, and dramatic sighs. you find him sprawled out on the couch, a blanket barely covering him as he flips through channels, looking utterly miserable.

“i feel like death,” he complains when you sit next to him, and despite the obvious exaggeration, he looks pitiful enough that you can’t help but smile. he’s not usually one to be overly needy, but when he’s sick? he’s all about the attention.

you bring him some soup, and he gives you a weak smile, propping himself up just enough to take a sip. “you’re an angel,” he mumbles, but even that little bit of gratitude is followed by a dramatic cough that makes you roll your eyes.

he’s restless, constantly shifting under the blankets and complaining about how bored he is, how much he hates feeling like this. you offer to stay with him, and his eyes light up, a mischievous glint behind the obvious exhaustion. “you gonna keep me company?” he teases, voice thick with congestion. “or are you just here to make sure i don’t die on the couch?

you settle in beside him, and even though he’s feeling awful, he still cracks jokes, trying to keep things light. but there’s a quiet moment where he leans into you, his head resting on your shoulder as he drifts off to sleep, his breathing finally evening out. you stay there, feeling the weight of him against you, knowing that as much as he’s complaining, he appreciates you being there.

JOHN ‘SOAP’ MACTAVISH

soap is absolutely insufferable when he’s sick, and he knows it. at first, he tries to play it off—still bouncing around, still grinning, still acting like everything’s fine. but then the fever hits, and it’s like watching a hurricane get knocked flat. he’s sprawled out on the bed, tossing and turning, unable to get comfortable no matter what he does.

you bring him a glass of water, and he gives you that familiar, cocky grin, even though he’s clearly not feeling well. “you’re a sight for sore eyes,” he rasps, taking the water and downing it in one go. his voice is rough, but there’s still that glint of mischief in his eyes. “ye know, if i weren’t sick, we could be havin’ a lot more fun right now.”

you roll your eyes, but there’s no denying the way his teasing makes your heart flutter. he’s always been like this—flirty, cheeky, always pushing your buttons. even now, as he’s lying there, feverish and miserable, he can’t resist making a comment.

“don’t suppose you’ll give me a wee cuddle, eh?” he grins, shifting on the bed and patting the spot beside him. “might help me feel better.”

you know he’s just trying to get a rise out of you, but when you settle next to him, he actually quiets down for a moment, resting his head on your shoulder. his skin is warm, almost too warm, and you can feel the tension in his muscles as he tries to get comfortable

“don’t worry,” he mumbles, his voice soft now. “i’ll be back to my usual self soon enough. ye won’t be able to keep yer hands off me.” despite his words, he’s clearly exhausted, and when he finally drifts off, he’s peaceful for once, his usual energy gone, replaced by the quiet rhythm of his breathing.

SIMON ‘GHOST’ RILEY

when ghost gets sick, it’s like he’s trying to hide it from the world. he’s not the type to show weakness, not even to you, and it takes a lot for him to admit that he’s not feeling well. but eventually, even he can’t fight it off anymore, and you find him in bed, eyes closed, the tension in his body betraying how much he’s struggling.

he doesn’t say much when you sit beside him, offering him some medicine and a glass of water. he just nods, his fingers brushing against yours as he takes the glass, the touch brief but enough to let you know he’s thankful for your presence.

he’s quiet—always quiet—but even more so when he’s sick. there’s no grumbling, no complaining, just the occasional shift of his body as he tries to get comfortable. you adjust the blankets around him, and his eyes flicker open for a moment, dark and heavy with exhaustion.

“you don’t have to stay,” he mutters, his voice low and rough. but there’s no force behind his words, no real intent for you to leave. in fact, the way his eyes follow you as you move around the room tells you that he doesn’t want to be alone, even if he won’t admit it.

you sit beside him, and for a while, there’s just the sound of his breathing, slow and labored. he doesn’t ask for anything, doesn’t demand your attention, but the way his hand occasionally brushes against yours is enough. he’s not used to being taken care of, but he lets you stay, lets you be the quiet comfort he needs.

eventually, his breathing evens out, and he falls into a restless sleep. you watch over him, knowing that even though he doesn’t say much, your presence is enough to ease some of the weight he’s carrying, even if only for a little while.

[lieslab]

Are you with me?

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

Pairing: Chan X gn reader

Summary: After struggling with being underweight, you binge out of desperation to gain weight and that's when your boyfriend finds you.

Genre: Comfort/hurt

Word Count: 1.6K

Trigger warning: Insecurities, implied underweight reader, mentions of weight, weight loss, binging, calorie counting, and a mention of nausea.

A/N: I believe that this is the final request I had. I'm so sorry for making you wait forever, life has been hard and this topic is a bit too real and relatable. Please know that your weight doesn't define you. Whether you are thirty pounds, three hundred, or three-thousand, you still deserve love and respect. You are allowed to love yourself no matter what you look like.

Society can be really fucking shitty and harsh. Don't let it tear you down. This is your life and maybe we do only get one. Eat the slice of cake on your birthday. Indulge in your favorite coffee. Weight can fluctuate and be lost or gained, but good memories last a life time. Don't let yourself miss out on experiencing them because you think your weight and the way you look is holding you back. It's easier said than done, but it's entirely possible <3

_ _ _

The brain is a chamber and each thought is a bullet. A complex system full of neural pathways that define who you are. The brain controls your entire being. Your personality, your motor skills, the cognitive ability to retain information, and pull it out later. 

Beneath the skin, we’re all just bones. Chipped and withered skeletons that will one day disintegrate into nothingness. They say life is a blessing. We should cherish it to the best of our ability. We only get one life, supposedly. If that’s true, then why is it so hard? 

Bodies. Bodies. Bodies. Bodies. Thick and thin. Taut skin stretched over hollowed cheekbones. Round cheeks full of facial fat. Sharpened and softened jawlines. No matter what yours looks like, you only get one. 

A random genetic lottery thanks to your parents. You might hate yourself or you might love yourself. No matter which one wins, there always seems to be hiccups. Those times of turmoil where you just can’t seem to go on another day because you are trapped inside your body. The machine that causes you to breathe, it feels like a burden to some. 

You cannot control how the outside world perceives you. You cannot make everyone like yourself. Chasing idolization and devotion is a great bomb of self-destruction. Feelings can be fatal and if you’re not careful, they will be. Drowning in insecurities and letting them weigh you down while the days pass you by isn’t a good way to live. 

Yet…you just couldn’t help it. The way you looked was just overwhelming. You were a mess. Physically, nobody could see it. Mentally, you were overwhelmed and falling apart. Unraveling at the seams and spiraling out of control. 

The whispers of your insecurities had turned into a sympathy of screams. Scorching hot tears streamed down your cheeks in the kitchen. Your weight has always been an issue. People don’t second guess the things they say at times. 

“Gosh, you’re so skinny, you need to put some meat on your bones.” 

“Is that really all you’re going to eat?” 

“One blow from the wind and you’re going to fall over at this rate.” 

Some people are blessed with rapid metabolisms and some are cursed. No matter how much you consume, your body works it off. Over and over and over and over and over. Just when you think you’ve gained a pound, the scale says you’re down another half of a pound. 

What does your boyfriend think about it? He always says you look wonderful, but does he really mean it? What if he’s lying? Members of your family have stated that you look like you’re on your deathbed. 

What if you’re not good enough? What if this body isn’t great? What if nothing changes? What if you’re cursed to be this weight forever? What if? What if? What if? 

It was a spur of the moment decision. Ever since you lost another two pounds within the last week, something inside of you seemed to snap. That’s when you found yourself tearing through kitchen cabinets. 

Thoughts were swirling as you ripped open the package of oreo cookies you bought. It was one and then it was two and you blinked and half the row was gone. Crumbs caked your lips and all you could do was wipe them along your sweater sleeve. 

As much as you were spiraling, you were desperate to gain control. Surely, if you ate enough, you could put on a pound or two, right? Right? You had to. 

Crinkling filled the air as you opened a bag of brand new chips. The kind that were too salty and you knew they weren’t healthy, but you did it anyway. Life felt better with the occasional unhealthy snack. People weren’t perfect and neither were you. 

Staring at the back of the calorie contents, you lost track of how many chips you placed in your mouth. People didn’t seem to binge on the fruits and vegetables. 

It was the sugary sweetened foods that stuck to your sides. The salty chips and pretzels. The kind of food that was full of empty calories, but you didn’t care. You were desperate to gain a pound. 

People don’t understand what it’s like until they’re there. You will never understand what it’s like to be skin and bones until it’s all that you are. You will never understand what it’s like to carry around a pudgy stomach that bounces with every step until you are there. 

Weight fluctuates and bodies are different. We only get one, but it’s so easy to abuse it. To never eat enough. To over consume and eat too much. You didn’t think you were doing anything wrong with your body. 

You ate your food and that was that. It wasn’t a ton of food, but it wasn’t like you were starving yourself either. Yet, at the exact same time, your body seemed to stay thin. 

The more you spiraled, the more you lost track. You didn’t remember what you put in your mouth. Everything tasted like defeat, even the oreos. 

It kept going and going. Your stomach began to ache with the amount of food you consumed, but you couldn’t stop. It was overwhelming and all too much. Everything hurt and you just wanted to break down and sob. 

When you caught the reflection of yourself in the microwave, that’s exactly what you did. The lump in your throat pulsed and the tears welled up again. The box of crackers in your hand dropped to the floor and you grabbed the counter top for support. 

Your body caved and slumped over the cold marble top. With a forehead pressed into the marble, you cried. You cried because it wasn’t fair. You cried because you hated what you were doing to your body. You cried because you were worried about how you were perceived. You cried because everything was overwhelming and too much. You hated yourself and it hurt like hell. 

Piercing sobs racked the empty kitchen and bounced off the walls. They reverberated back to you and you were left alone with the heart-shattering reality of what you were doing. You ate so much, you were nauseous. 

Your stomach twisted and churned. A fresh layer of saliva coated your tongue. The queasy feeling caused you to squeeze your eyes shut. All you could do was just cry harder. 

Your sobs were the first thing that Chan heard when he unlocked and pushed the door open. Fear struck his heart and he ripped off his bag. Not caring that his laptop was in it, it dropped to the ground with a heavy thud. 

He rushed into the kitchen and found you slung over the counter. “Baby? Baby?” His hand went to your back and he tugged you into his arms. 

The warmth of his chest made you cry harder. You hated that this was who you were. Why couldn’t you have another body? Why did it have to be this way? Why couldn’t it just be different? 

“What’s wrong?” His eyes scanned your face. “Why are you crying? What’s going on? Are you hurt?” His hands gently cupped your cheeks. He positioned your face up towards him. “Please talk to me.” 

“I-I hate myself,” you uttered hoarsely with a hiccup. “I’m not good enough. I can’t gain weight and I’m a walking skeleton and I-” 

His eyebrows pinched together in confusion. “Sweetheart, what are you talking about?”  A reassuring thumb ran over your cheek. 

“My body isn’t good enough. Not for you. Not for me. Not for anyone.” 

Knowing that you thought so negatively of yourself, it stung. It shoved an arrow through his heart and he shook his head. “Listen to me, you’re perfect the way you are. Just because y-” 

“You don’t get it!” You snapped angrily. Your hands shoved at his shoulders and he stumbled back in shock. “You don’t get it because you’re perfect! You can gain weight and you can lose weight. You can do whatever you want and I-” Your voice cracked and cut off. 

He didn’t utter a word. He knew you were struggling, so he just opened his arms. With a quivering bottom lip, you let yourself fall forward. Sturdy arms grabbed you and he pressed your head against his chest. 

The steady lull of his heart made you burst into tears. A weak and hoarse apology fell from your lips. All he could do was quietly shush you as he rubbed your back. 

“I know that it’s hard. I know what it’s like to struggle with your self image. Maybe I don’t know exactly what it is, but I’m right here and I love you. Please don’t push me away just because you’re struggling. I might not understand, but we can figure it out together. I’m not going anywhere and you know that.” 

That last reassurance was the final straw. Your knees buckled and your fingers dug into his cotton shirt. Down the both of you went and you landed on his lap. 

He pressed you against him as tight as he dared. With your eyes shut and your forehead pressed into the nape of his neck. He soothed you softly while rubbing your back. 

Even if he didn’t understand exactly, he’d wait here for as long as he had to. He’d be here until the kitchen was pulled into darkness and the sun went down outside. He didn’t care if he had to be here all night. 

He’d do whatever it took to remind you that no matter how you saw yourself, you weren’t entirely alone.

| ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ |

Taglist: @lina-linny @straykidsstanforeverandever @seungnishi @stellasays45

Masterlist

Taglist and inbox rules

[dekariosclan]

We know from the epilogue that Gale is often so immersed in his research that he can ignore everything in the world, including Tav, until he finishes. How will Gale make amends after a few days of ignoring his love?

Ps: Tav wasn't really mad at him, of course, but sometimes it's a shame that the book is given more time than Tav, don't you think so?

Ooh what a great question!! 🥰

So I have to imagine that Gale getting caught up in his research—the topic of which can be anything and everything, depending on what his brilliant mind decides to focus on that week—is something Tav gets used to pretty quickly.

But I don’t believe that Gale ever fully ignores Tav, no matter how passionate he is about the topic he’s working on. For example, I don’t see him locking himself away in his study for hours at a time and completely forgetting to interact with Tav. This is a man who spent a year+ in lonely isolation, bereft, desperately longing for company. This is a man whose greatest wish (as shown by the magic mirror in Act I) has always been for a sweetheart to join him in his tower. And this is a man who, even when he read Karsus’s book and his thoughts were consumed with the knowledge it contained, was still focused on Tav, and what Tav would think, and how Tav would react.

So all that said—what I DO think happens is that he becomes immersed in his research to the point of complete distraction.

I can see him going up and down the tower, rummaging through his piles of books and bookshelves, paging through giant tomes, then tossing them aside and muttering to himself, while his conjured mage hand scribbles notes on a piece of parchment. Meanwhile, Tav watches all of this with fond amusement—because while Gale is pacing around with his nose buried in a book, his mind seemingly a million miles away, he’ll still occasionally take Tav’s hand and press it to his lips for a gentle kiss, all without ceasing his reading.

At other times he’ll step into the room and, with his gaze focused on the book or notes clutched in his hands, start bouncing ideas off of Tav: “My love, did you know that the alchemical properties of Daggerroot make it an excellent weapon coating? Do you think it could also be used for medicinal properties? Yes or no?…Hmm—I can tell by your silence that you are hesitant about it…you know, I do believe that you are correct in your assessment. Yes, now that I think about it, Mugwort remains the superior choice. Excellent advice my love, you truly know how to steady the direction of my mind even through the most volatile of seas!” Then he’ll hurry away—all without realizing that Tav was not even in the room, but in the hallway behind him, watching all this play out while trying not to laugh.

AND THEN, finally, when Gale has completed his work and the scholarly portion of mind is satisfied (until the next topic takes hold…) Tav will look up from whatever they were doing to find that their delightful wizard has, without their noticing, conjured an entire dinner spread of Tav’s favorite foods, scented candles, and flowers.

And their wizard will be before them, gently plucking whatever book or letter or item that Tav had been engaged with from their grasp, so that he can take both of their hands in his. Then he’ll caress them slowly, while smiling lovingly into Tav’s eyes, his full attention on them and them alone.

“Done with your research now, are you?” Tav will ask with a smile.

But Gale will shake his head. “My love,” he will admonish gently, as he worshipfully caresses his fingers over their face, down their jawline. “You should know that a wizard’s research is never done.”

Then he’ll place his bent finger under their chin, and smile. “I’m simply moving on to studying my favorite subject,” he’ll conclude, as he tips their head up and kisses them deeply.

[wandaslittlebird]

Professor!Wanda Headcanons

I typically don’t write professor/student, but you’ll have to forgive me, I’m experiencing a moment of weakness.

Professor Maximoff was, by no means a well liked professor. Her class was infamously difficult, and most of her students found her cold.

You, however, grasp the subject matter surprisingly well. That never stopped you from coming by her office to “further your studies.”

She liked it when you came by, she told you. “It feels like I’m in here all the time. And no one comes to my office hours anyway. It gets a little dull in here with just me.”

Her office was simply decorated with only a single chair in the corner for students to sit, but as it started to become a regular hang out for you, a nice loveseat mysteriously appeared.

It got to the point where you were talking to her almost every day. You came in in between all your classes, lounging on her loveseat and getting some work done.

Whenever you complained of being hungry, or simply wanting a nice treat for yourself, she handed you her phone, open with DoorDash and her credit card information already loaded in.

She’s started to get very possessive of you. She sees how the other students and professors look at you. She just wants to keep you safe, she tells herself.

But whenever you have a one on one with another professor, she can’t help the way her body tenses and her blood pressure spikes. She’s always sure to stop by to inform you that after your meeting is over, she’s bought you your favorite lunch in her office. Better not wait too long. It’ll get cold.

She starts making comments when your clothes when your shirt collars hit too low and your jeans had too many rips. “I should dress code you, you know. You’re lucky I like you.” Over time, you amass a decent collection of very expensive blazers from the days you come in in something she deems too revealing.

In her office, however, you’re allowed to wear as little as you wish. Which is convenient because it’s starting to get very hot in there for some reason. She can stand the heat if it means getting to watch you do your work in an undershirt.

When she asks what you’re doing for the Thanksgiving holiday and you shrug and tell her nothing, she’s all too quick to jump on the opportunity. “You can come over to my place. It’ll just be me. We can make a turkey. Come on it’ll be fun.”

Thanksgiving break bleeds into Christmas break as well. And her guest room bleeds into her bedroom. Her bed is just so much more comfortable. And it’s a California king. The two of you are practically sleeping in different time zones.

Late one night, you hear her whisper “Are you awake?”

“Yeah,” you whisper back.

“Will you still come to my office? Next semester? Even though you won’t be in my class anymore?” She asks, almost anxiously.

“Of course,” you respond. “I really enjoy being around you. Even outside of you… being my professor and everything.”

She smiles, but you couldn’t see it so well in the dark. “Good,” she said. “That’s good. I like being around you as well.”

She inches towards you nervously, but you reassure her when you start to move towards her as well. She wraps her arms around you while you curl into her chest. And you fall asleep in her arms, for the first time.

[misctf]

Renovations Needed

For @artificial-transmutations

“Wait, you’re serious? Your uncle left you property?”

Andy nodded, “I’m as shocked as you are. But it says it right here. Look!” He handed Michael the paper, “It’s his old club. Not in the best part of town though...”

“Doesn’t matter, we can sell it!” Michael smiled, “We’ve been pretty tight on cash and we could use it for our wedding.” Michael hugged him, “Babe, this is incredible.”

Andy smiled warmly at his boyfriend. Michael was perfect. His smile enough to brighten up even his darkest days. His lean, muscular build highlighted under his tight white shirt. But more importantly, they complimented each other well. Michael’s ambition tempered and strengthened by Andy’s kindness.

“So, let’s go check it out”

_________

Compared to their cozy home, his uncle’s property was on the “bad side” of town. And just as his uncle neglected his body, he did the same to his property. Boarded up and worn down, this place needed a lot of work.

“Geez he let this place go.” Michael said, as the two inspected a broken window, “Fuck, I doubt we’ll get much for this place.” Andy frowned.

The two unlocked the front door, overwhelmed immediately by a moldy smell. The floors were stained, the bar was in shambles, and the walls were dirty. Andy jumped at the sight of a rat.

“What did you say your uncle did again?”

“He ran a club.” Andy replied, “At least until all that smoking caught up to him.” He navigated around some broken glass, “This place was really big back in the day... first gay club in the neighborhood.”

Michael nodded and continued his inspection, “Babe, look at this.” Andy’s eyes fell on a framed picture of his uncle, “Tough looking dude.”

Andy nodded, “That was him in his prime.” Mountainous biceps, a wide back, jutting pecs, bald, a thick beard- his uncle wasn’t someone you messed with. His stern glare could snap a lesser man in two, “He was never my biggest fan. I’m not exactly... tough. Just a ‘wimpy bitch boy’, as he would say.”

Michael frowned and kissed his boyfriend, “You’re perfect to me, babe.”

The rest of their inspection was disappointing, but nothing could compare them for the bathroom. Piss stains littered the floors and walls. Urinals were caked in it. There was even one missing- completely torn away from the wall. The smell nearly knocked them out, and they quickly retreated.

“This sucks.” Andy looked over to the photo of his uncle. His stern gaze piercing his soul, “He could’ve really made something of this place.”

“Agreed. It’s a real shame.” Michael replied, “He really fucked up, didn’t he.”

Andy sighed, looking at the picture of his uncle. And suddenly, an idea popped into his head, “What if I clean it up?” Michael let out a laugh, “No seriously! I could get this place straightened up. It would increase the value for sure!”

Michael sighed, “You really think you can do much for this dump?” Andy felt a sudden pang of anger that quickly dissipated before he could process it, “Look babe, I’ll support you. Couldn’t hurt.” He leaned in for a kiss.

_________

“This place looks better already.” Andy whispered as he entered the club the next day.

The club somehow already looked cleaner. Maybe even a little livelier. The smell wasn’t as bad, the floors not as dirty. But there was still work to be done. Andy swept the floor and watched as the grime vanished without much effort. He even dusted the photo of his uncle.

“We didn’t really get along, but thank you.” Andy whispered.

When he arrived home, Michael greeted him warmly, “Hey babe, how’d it go?” He scrunched his nose, “Damn, you stink.” He chuckled, but Andy glared at him, “I didn’t mean anything by it.” Michael replied, realizing his boyfriend wasn’t in the mood.

“I’m gonna go shower.” Andy said, brushing past his boyfriend without even a kiss, “See you in bed.”

In the shower, Andy tried to relax. His muscles were sore from earlier. And as he lathered up, he was surprised to feel small hairs along his chest and stomach. He was usually clean shaven, and these small dark hairs were odd. He thought little of it.  

Upon entering the bedroom, he found Michael lying in bed. Naked. A sexy smirk on his face. One that Andy usually couldn’t resist.

“You seem stressed babe.” Michael said, putting his hands behind his head, “And I think I have the solution.” His erect cock was on full display.

“Not in the mood.” Andy replied.

“Bullshit, I heard you moaning in the shower.”

“Not in the fucking mood.” Andy continued. Michael frowned, “I can sleep on the couch if you want.”

“Babe, what’s wrong?” Michael asked, concern etched on his face, “You seem...” He approached his boyfriend.

“I’m fine.” Andy replied, “Long day. Last thing I want is your dick up my ass.” He crawled into bed and faced away from Michael, “You coming?”

_________

The next day, Andy sat in his uncle’s office, rummaging through a desk. Even the office underwent a transformation overnight. The smell was gone, the chair was repaired, and the desk was no longer dusty. Andy scratched his chest and mentally made note that it felt firmer. But his thoughts were interrupted when he found a VHS tape. He raised an eyebrow.

“Shower Time?” He read the label, “What the fuck?” He looked up at the newly repaired TV and VHS player, “Might as well.”

The video started. There was his uncle. Nude. Standing above some guy. Some lesser man. Andy watched closely, absentmindedly rubbing his stiffening cock. And then it started. His uncle pissed on the guy below him. Andy watched as if in a trance, still rubbing his cock. And then it stopped.  

“What the fuck?” He whispered, looking down at himself, “I... I’m not into that kinda shit, am I?” The disturbed young man exited the office, “I need to get out of here...” But as he passed the watchful gaze of his uncle’s photo, he froze, “Where the fuck am I going?” He whispered, “I have work to do.”

Hours passed, and Andy’s work was nearly done. He wiped some sweat from his brow, barely registering his newly mountainous bicep. He felt his phone vibrate. Michael. He ignored the call and continued his work.

When he arrived home, Michael wasn’t there- likely at the gym. Andy walked to the bathroom and stared closely at himself in the mirror. Something wasn’t right.

“There we go.” He whispered, pulling out the clippers, “Just a little...” He buzzed away his brunette locks. Shorter and shorter until not a single hair remained, “Better.” He ran a hand over his bald head.

Later, when Michael did return home, he nearly fainted, “What the fuck?” He said, “Andy, what did you do?” Andy looked up and shrugged, “Babe, you’re bald!” Michael knew how much Andy cared about his hair, “Somethings wrong. Please just tell me.”

Andy glared at him, “You got a problem, bitch boy?” Michael’s jaw dropped, “By the way, we’re keeping the club.”

“That wasn’t the plan.” Michael crossed his arms, “What about selling it? We need the cash for the wedding.”

Andy stood up and crossed his arms, “Who gives a shit? Club’s nearly done anyway.” Michael could only watch as his boyfriend got up and left.

_________

Back at the club, Andy sat in his uncle’s office, watching another one of his uncle’s piss videos. The initial disdain for them being replaced by pure pleasure, as he jerked off. But his pleasure was interrupted when the door swung open.

“Andy, we need to...” Michael said desperately, “What are you doing?” Andy smirked and continued to jerk off, “Andy. Cut this shit out.”

“Didn’t take you for a little bitch.” Andy replied, standing up, “You should be fuckin’ happy. I mean look at me.” He flexed his biceps, which now rivaled Michael’s, “And this fuckin’ club is gonna take off.”

“But babe, I don’t want the club.” Michael replied, “Ever since we got it, you’ve been different. Andy please.” And for a second, Andy’s new persona faltered. His boyfriend’s caring eyes breaking through to him. And the kindness returned to Andy’s eyes.

“Michael...” He whispered, “I-I’m sorry.” He stepped forward, “I don’t know what happened.”

Michael smiled and hugged his larger boyfriend, “It’s okay.” He looked down at Andy’s arms, “ But you need to tell me your workout routine.” He said, trying to add some humor to the situation.

Andy shook his head, “Michael... this isn’t right.” He looked at his larger bicep.

“You’re going to be okay. We’re going to be okay.” Michael smiled.  

The two started walking down the long hallway to the main floor. Past the furious eyes of Andy’s uncle. And Andy froze.

“Wait babe, I left something in the bathroom.” He said.

Michael nodded, “Okay, I can wait...”

“No, come with me. Please.”

Michael shivered. Something told him to run. There was something different in his boyfriend’s eyes. But he wasn’t gonna leave him. He nodded and the two entered the bathroom. It was still in a state of decay.

“God, smells like piss in here.” Michael laughed nervously, “Guess you haven’t had time...”

Andy shoved him. A forceful push that sent him tumbling against the wall. Falling exactly into the empty slot between two urinals. Michael’s back hit the wall and he winced in pain, looking up at his boyfriend.

“Andy, what the hell...” Michael tried to move, but he couldn’t. He pushed against the wall desperately and looked up at his boyfriend in terror, “Andy, please! You need to help...”

But then he saw it. Andy was frozen, his clothes shredding as his muscles continued to grow. Behind him stood the specter of his uncle, who’s ghostly hands ran up and down Andy’s enlarging body. Andy moaned as his pecs grew into a pair of firm muscle tits and hair finally carpeting his clean-shaven skin in seconds.

“Andy...?” Michael whispered. Andy’s uncle smirked and suddenly Michael was naked. Pressed against the grimy wall of the bathroom.

The young man let out a yelp as he felt the pipe behind him enter his asshole and fuse to it. And he shivered as a sickly cold passed through his body.

“It hurts...” Michael whimpered as his muscles ached.

He looked down and quickly regretted it. His muscles were deflating- retracting into his body. His proud pecs and abs smoothing out, and his brunette locks and body hair fell to the ground below. Michael cried out again as his legs began to shrink and pull up into his abdomen.

“Andy help!” Michael cried out. He could see himself in the mirror. How his human features were starting to disappear, while his skin took on a paler tone. He felt cold. A sickly inhuman cold, “I-I...”

Tears fell from his eyes as he watched his toned arms begin to retract into his body. All the while, Andy was moaning as his own body packed on firm muscle and manly hair. His once clean shaven face now sporting a beard, while his expanding arms grew wiry hairs. In the midst of his transformation, he looked down at his boyfriend.

“Michael...” He whispered, “I-I’m sor...” He moaned as his package expanded, his bulge barely contained in his tight underwear.

Michael open his mouth to reply, but no words came out. Instead, his mouth remained forced open. And he could only watch in terror as it widened and stretched, forming a basin, while his tongue shifted into a urinal cake. Tears streamed from his eyes as he felt piping emerge from the top of his head and connect with the wall behind him. The coldness he felt earlier was now spreading. His flesh fully converting to white porcelain. And the last thing he saw before his vision went black was a final look of terror from Andy, which was soon replaced by the stern look Michael recalled from his uncle’s photo.

And then it was dark. It was cold and he was unable to move. Trapped. Not able to fully understand what happened to him.

“Fuck, I gotta take a leak.” Michael could still hear Andy’s voice, now gruff and harsh. He called out for help in his mind, hoping someone could hear.

But then he felt it. In the cold darkness of his new existence, he felt warmth. And tasted what he came to horrifically realize was piss. And after a minute or two of his old boyfriend filling his new mouth with urine, he felt hands wrap around his handle. The orgasmic pleasure nearly breaking Michael’s mind entirely, but not enough to free him from his new prison. Or awareness. And as the urine was washed away, Michael cried out in anguish as he came to realize his permanent fate.

“Shit that felt good.” Andy grumbled, “Alright, back to work. Opening days in just a week.”

The larger man went to leave, but not before turning back and looking at his new urinal. Something told him he was forgetting something important. A sense of dread filling him. He shook it off and left the bathroom, all under the watchful gaze of his uncle’s ghost.

_________

Opening day would come and go. And night after night, partygoers enjoyed the club and its atmosphere. Unaware of what had transpired there. And while they might not have been aware, Michael was. Day after day, and hundreds of men later. All filling his mouth and sending him into orgasmic pleasure with just a pull on his handle. Leaving him trapped and begging for freedom. But at least Andy would visit him. To use him of course. And only him. Andy couldn’t explain his attraction to that urinal. Nor would he ever realize why.

[pervydollfemme]

i can't wait til i'm finally a trophy wife for my butch <3

going out shopping while he works, from domestic things like groceries to new clothes for myself. decorating our house for holidays; hanging ornaments and lights on a christmas tree, putting pumpkins and spooky string lights on our porch for halloween (and handing out candy to the neighborhood kids in matching costumes). gardening and planting flowers, making sure our house looks welcoming inside and out. going to get my nails and hair done so i always look pretty for him, kissing all over his face when he calls me his beautiful princess, leaving lipgloss or lipstick marks behind.

making him breakfast and packing him a handmade lunch every morning in a silk nightgown and feathered robe, kissing him at his car before he leaves for work (and sometimes getting pinned against it because i look so good - so tempting - our kiss getting heated, going on for a little too long, flushed and breathless when we part. maybe he'd even cup my pussy in his hand, nipping at my neck and whispering about finishing this later). greeting him at the door when he gets home, wrapping him up in a hug and telling him how much i missed him.

sitting on his lap while we talk about our days, his arm wrapped around my waist and hand resting comfortably on my thigh. him telling me about the things he did at work, me telling him about the things i did that day. eating dinner together that way, swinging my legs happily and giggling when he tries to feed me food. domestic weekends together, sometimes staying in and cuddling in bed or on the couch while we watch tv and ordering in; sometimes going out for the day, shopping and going out to eat, him carrying my bags and watching me ramble with hearts in his eyes.

and some less-than-wholesome things, too...

like the hand on my thigh while we're talking at dinner slowly moving higher and higher up until it's under my skirt, pressing against my clit through my panties. rubbing in firm circles while i try my best to keep telling him about my day, my words slowly changing from stuttering to nothing coherent at all, only whining and whimpering, a wet patch spreading across my panties while i start grinding desperately against his fingers. spending the rest of the night spread out on his cock, crying as i'm pounded into the mattress and overstimulated with a vibrator against my clit. so exhausted that i fall asleep with his cock inside me, waking up the next morning sore but sated.

or a sweet weekend at home turning into gentle sex, him fingering me while whatever we were watching plays on in the background. whining and clenching around his fingers when he tells me to keep watching, that i don't want to miss anything, even though my eyes are so teary i can barely see what's going on. maybe even morning sex before he leaves for work because i looked so good he just couldn't help himself, eating me out on the counter until i'm sobbing and begging, holding on to anything i can reach around me for dear life, my thighs tight and shaking around his head.

just!! being his pretty, stay-at-home femme!! his trophy wife who he loves showing off to his coworkers, but isn't afraid to snap at possessively when they show even a small hint of interest in me!! being his forever!! his ring on my finger, his marks on my body, covered in the things he bought for me!! 🥹

[fushizhuo]

Happier Than Ever

Y/N, the youngest member of NewJeans, doesn’t seem to fit in. Her groupmates think she’s distant and always trying to outshine them. But during one performance, she steps forward with an unplanned solo, revealing a side of her that no one saw coming. As the truth comes out, everything changes, and Y/N is forced to take a choice she never chose.

Pairing — NewJeans x F! Reader (platonic)

Genre — Angst and a bit of fluff if u squint

Warnings — Mentions of trauma and abuse

WC — 8.6k words

Y/N had always been the outlier in NewJeans. The maknae, the sassy one, the one who never seemed to care. At least, that’s what the others thought. From the moment she joined the group, she was distant, never quite fitting into their easy camaraderie. The way she threw herself into practice, trying to outdo everyone, the sharp remarks, the cold demeanor—it was enough to make them think she was just trying to steal the spotlight.

“She’s so full of herself,” Hyein had muttered one day, rubbing her sore shoulders after another long practice session. “Yeah, I don’t get why she tries so hard,” Danielle added, her tone frustrated.

“It’s like she thinks she has to be perfect all the time.” Haerin hummed. “She probably just wants to be the center of attention,” Minji sighed. “I don’t know. She’s always got this attitude. It’s like she doesn’t care about us.”

What they didn’t know was that Y/N was fighting a battle none of them could see. Her father, a man who had never supported her dream of becoming an idol, was the force behind her relentless drive.

To him, anything less than perfection was a failure. And failure wasn’t an option. “If you don’t stay at the top, you’re done,” he had told her, his voice harsh. “I’ll pull you out of that group and make sure you do something worthwhile. Doctor. Lawyer. Something respectable.”

She had no choice but to push herself harder than anyone else, even if it meant alienating her members. They didn’t understand. They couldn’t.

That night, the arena was packed. Thousands of fans waved their lightsticks, cheering as the stage lights dimmed for the next performance. Backstage, NewJeans were preparing for their set, but Y/N felt a knot in her stomach that wouldn’t go away.

Tonight, she had to break free.

Before the others could ask what was wrong, Y/N stepped forward, holding her microphone tightly. Her heart raced as she looked at Minji, her voice trembling. “I need to sing a solo.”

“What?” Minji frowned, confused. “We don’t have time for that, Y/N. It’s not part of the plan.”

“I'm sorry, but please.” Y/N said quietly, her eyes avoiding theirs. “I have to do this.”

The others exchanged glances, their frustration evident. What was she thinking? They had worked so hard to prepare for tonight’s show, and now Y/N was going off-script? But in the end they agreed. She never begs, nor apologizes. This must be important.

“Fine,” Minji finally said, exasperated. “But this better be quick.”

Y/N nodded and walked toward the stage, her steps heavy. As she stepped into the spotlight, she caught sight of her father sitting in the front row. His face was blank, emotionless, but Y/N knew better. She could feel his judgment, the pressure that had been suffocating her for years.

She grabs her guitar with her, playing the chords softly, and Y/N took a deep breath. This was it.

She was going to let everything out.

"When I’m away from you, I’m happier than ever…"

Her voice was soft at first, almost fragile, but the weight of the words echoed through the arena. The fans quieted, sensing something was different. Backstage, the other members stared in confusion, unsure of what was happening.

"Wish I could explain it better, I wish it wasn’t true…"

Y/N’s voice cracked slightly, but she kept going. The memories of her father’s cruel words, his impossible demands, played over and over in her mind. This wasn’t just a performance anymore—it was her story.

"You called me again, drunk in your benz, driving home under the influence…"

As the next verse flowed out, Minji’s eyes widened in realization. This wasn’t just some random song choice. Y/N was singing about something real. Something painful.

"You scared me to death, but I’m wasting my breath, ‘cause you only listen to your fucking friends…"

Tears welled up in Y/N’s eyes as she sang. She could feel her father’s cold gaze on her from the audience, and it made her chest tighten. She had spent so long trying to please him, trying to be perfect, but it was never enough.

"I don’t relate to you, I don’t relate to you, no, ‘cause I’d never treat me this shitty, you made me hate this city…"

Haerin gasped softly, finally understanding. Y/N wasn’t some brat trying to outshine them. She was fighting for her life, for her dream. And she had been doing it all alone.

"And I don’t talk shit about you on the internet, never told anyone anything bad, ‘cause that shit's embarrassing, you were my everything, and all that you did was make me fucking sad…"

The pain in Y/N’s voice was raw, unfiltered. Every word cut deeper, every note a release of all the emotions she had buried for years. The fans were in shock, many of them wiping away tears, while backstage, the members watched, hearts breaking.

"So don’t waste the time I don’t have, don’t try to make me feel bad..."

Y/N’s voice grew louder, more intense. The anger she had kept hidden for so long was finally spilling out. She wasn’t just singing for herself—she was fighting for her freedom, for her right to choose her own life.

"I could talk about every time that you showed up on time, but I’d have an empty line, ‘cause you never did…"

Her hands trembled as she gripped the microphone, her voice carrying the weight of years of disappointment. Her father had never been there when she needed him, never supported her when she struggled, and now she was finally telling the world.

"Never paid any mind to my mother or friends, so I shut ‘em all out for you ‘cause I was a kid…"

The lights on stage seemed to dim around her as the final words fell from her lips. The room was silent, the audience stunned, unsure of how to react to the raw honesty they had just witnessed.

Backstage, the other members could only stand in shock, tears streaming down their faces. Y/N had been fighting a battle none of them had seen, a battle they had misunderstood. She wasn’t trying to be better than them. She was trying to survive.

"You ruined everything good, always said you were misunderstood, made all my moments your own..

just fucking leave me alone!"

By the end of the song, Y/N’s voice was shaking, her body trembling from the emotional toll. She stood there, tears rolling down her cheeks, staring out into the darkened crowd, knowing her father was there, watching.

Then, as the final note faded, the silence was broken by slow, hesitant applause. It started with one person, then another, until the entire stadium erupted into cheers. The fans understood. They had felt her pain, and they were with her.

Y/N didn’t move. Her eyes were locked on the figure of her father sitting in the front row. His face was cold, unfeeling, as if her words hadn’t touched him at all. And in that moment, she knew—he would never change. He would never let her be free.

As the rest of NewJeans rushed onto the stage to comfort her, Y/N felt her father’s presence like a dark cloud looming over her. Her members hugged her tightly, whispering apologies, telling her they were there for her now. But Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling of dread.

“I’m so sorry,” Minji whispered, holding Y/N’s shaking form. “We didn’t know… We didn’t understand.”

“We should’ve seen it,” Hanni added, her voice thick with guilt. “You didn’t have to go through this alone.”

Y/N’s tears fell faster, but she couldn’t bring herself to respond. Her father’s eyes bored into her from across the stage, and she knew this wasn’t over. It wasn’t up to her anymore.

Suddenly, a figure began moving toward the stage. It was her father, pushing his way through the crowd, his face stone-cold with fury. The members of NewJeans noticed him at the same time, their protectiveness flaring up as they closed in around Y/N.

“What does he want?” Danielle asked, her voice trembling with anger.

Y/N didn’t answer. She couldn’t. She just stood there, frozen in place, as her father reached the edge of the stage and motioned for her to come down. His hand gestured sharply, a silent command.

“Y/N…” Minji started, her voice full of concern.

But Y/N knew she had no choice. She wiped her tears and stepped back from her groupmates, avoiding their eyes as she walked toward the stairs. The crowd’s cheers faded as confusion spread through the arena.

“Where is she going?” Hyein whispered, panic creeping into her voice.

Her father grabbed her arm as soon as she reached him, pulling her away from the stage. The grip was tight, unforgiving. Y/N winced but didn’t fight back. She was too drained, too scared. Her dream was slipping away before her eyes, and there was nothing she could do.

“No,” Minji said firmly, stepping forward. “She doesn’t have to go with you.”

But Y/N’s father shot them a cold glare. “This is none of your business. She’s my daughter. And she’s done with this ridiculous idol nonsense.”

Danielle’s fists clenched in anger. “You can’t do that to her. She’s not your puppet.”

Y/N shook her head slightly, signaling to her members that it was no use. This was her reality. Her father’s control over her life was too strong, and no matter how much they cared for her now, it wasn’t enough to change that.

“I’m sorry,” Y/N whispered, her voice barely audible. “I’m so sorry…”

Minji, Hanni, Danielle, Hyein and Haerin stood helplessly as Y/N was led away, her figure disappearing into the crowd. The fans, confused and heartbroken, watched as the youngest member of NewJeans was taken from the stage, her future with the group slipping away with every step.

As the doors to the backstage area closed behind her, Y/N felt her father’s control settling over her once again. The dream she had worked so hard for, the friendships she had finally started to build—it was all slipping through her fingers.

She had sung her truth. She had shown the world who she really was.

But it wasn’t enough.

Her father’s voice was low and cold as they left the venue. “That’s it. You’re done with this idol nonsense. Tomorrow, we’ll start making plans for your future. A real future.”

Y/N didn’t respond. She had nothing left to say.

As the car drove away from the arena, leaving the lights and cheers behind, Y/N stared out the window, her heart heavy with the realization that her dream was over.

She was no longer a part of NewJeans.

And in that cold night, she knew she would never be happier than ever again.

[trivia-yandere]

fuck it, a look into part 2 to drugdealer! yoongi's "dilemma"

coming oct.14

“Each time I see you, you get something more bold.” the nail tech speaks as she carefully adds the clear coat onto your nails. “You always keep me on my toes. I never know what to expect.”

You giggle a bit with a curt nod to your head. “Would you believe me if I told you it wasn’t me choosing these designs?”

Yoongi had been the one to tell you all he wished for you to get - and you never went against it. He was the one paying for it. You recall one of the many times you and he were hanging out. He would always insist that you didn’t have to buy whenever you wanted weed, a perk that you didn’t wish to take advantage of. 

Yoongi understood that you were stubborn at times and instead decided that you two can smoke together and it wouldn’t be considered “free” if he was smoking it with you - as if you didn’t know he “accidentally” left some behind for you whenever he left.

That, and it always ended with you and Yoongi fucking. You blamed it on you being high but you and him both understood that even sober would you be willing to fuck him. 

After a smoke session that soon lead to a fuck session, Yoongi had mentioned how your nails would look nice a light blue color and had offered to pay for it, no matter the cost. Him handing you $200 wasn’t what you expected - his excuse was he didn’t know how much nails cost.

Typical Yoongi response.

“Boyfriend?” she asks, eyes glancing up at you. “You always get designs and add bling.”

You lick your lip, unsure of how to respond.

Yoongi wasn’t your boyfriend - he never asked you. 

Sure you and he would often spend time together when you weren’t working and he wasn’t…doing whatever it was that he did. He never truly did tell you what he sells besides weed, but did you truly wish to know? Just like he said before - ignorance is bliss.

Yoongi and you would go places that could be considered dates - says your friends - and apparently acted like a couple. He would buy you things randomly, items he thought you’d enjoy and of course he does pay for your nails simply because he likes the way they look on you.

“Something like that.” was your response, unsure of what you were truly expected to respond with. 

There’s a ringing noise indicating that there’s a door opening. You raise your brow in confusion as it was already dark outside and the salon is closed and has been for over an hour now. You typically choose the later appointments at times and Yoongi would pick you up.  

“Ah, is this the boyfriend?”

Your head whips around to see Yoongi in the flesh. He steps closer, sauntering towards you with such a cool and nonchalant swag about him. Your heart jolts at just the sight of him, dressed casually; dark grassy colored shirt with light-washed gray jeans and his infamous Nikes that he wore that he had in nearly every color. 

Yoongi always wore jewelry, his wrist holding expensive gold bracelets and watches. His ears typically held little silver or gold hoops or the occasional diamond earrings. Witnessing him wearing a diamond studded chain around his neck, matched with another looser one that slightly sways as he walks. 

“Yoongi.” you say as he reaches you, your body warms at his sudden appearance. “I…I should be done soon. Were you waiting long?”

“Just stopping by. Have to make a quick stop before we go out to eat.” Yoongi shakes his head, dark eyes glancing down to your nails. “I like your nails. They’re nice.”

You couldn’t help but smile, looking at your nails with the design Yoongi picked out - full of different shining gems that he insisted you get, again, no matter the cost.

Yoongi goes through his pocket and grabs his wallet. He turns his eye to the nail tech who’s already watching in curiosity. Sometimes, not all, does Yoongi wear rings. They could be subtle, simple silver rings. Today, however, was not a subtle day. His index, middle, ring and pink display diamond-studded rings that say “SUGA”, and all you can do was snicker.

“Hopefully this is enough.” Yoongi says, handing her a wad of cash. You want to scoff at the insane amount of money he was handing her. “This is too much-” the nail tech widens her eyes a bit, looking between you and Yoongi. “It’s-”

“Fine.” Yoongi shrugs his shoulders. “It’s fine. You can pocket the rest.” he assures, turning feline-like eyes to you. “You always do an amazing job.”

[stormyelliotwritez]

fic where ftm reader is logan’s gay (re)awakening when he sees r in his 2000 pickup truck blasting old rock in his flannel and jeans and logan just heart eyes and needs to be with this man Immediately.

(i say reawakening bc lets be real hes like 200 he mightve already realized hes a 🚬 before but needed like. a reminder)

AAAAAAHHHHHH literally my fav trope ever - i did a similar one to this btw called logan and his hot guy friend - also i made reader a handyman type guy coz funsies

He may be a bit ooc but i ain’t sure

i need to get more photos coz i keep reusing them

Old rock and a 2000’s pickup truck? 😍

It had been a long long day and Logan was walking home from the job he’d gotten after all that multiverse shit when a 2000’s pickup truck parked at the lights. He walked up next to it and raised an eyebrow as he heard the music. It was old rock or dad rock as Wade would say. He walked past the window and saw you. You were wearing a red flannel and faded blue jeans. He’d almost forgotten what it was like to like a guy.

He wandered home in a daze, only thinking about you in that pick up truck. Wade asked him if something was wrong and he couldn’t even answer. He just mumbled a no and then grabbed a beer. You looked so good in that flannel. He only saw you for a moment but you were his type alright.

A few days later, he took the same route home, hoping he’d see you and he did. You were parked this time with tools in the backseat. Against his better judgement, he walked up to your window and tapped on it. And against your better judgement, you rolled the window down and smiled at him.

“Your truck is a beauty,” he said with a smile.

“Thanks, I fixed her up myself,” you said back before patting the dashboard lovingly.

Logan took a glance at the tools in the back of your truck and chuckled to himself. “You a handyman?”

You nodded. “Guilty as charged. You needing something fixed?”

He chuckled. “Well now that I think of it, we’ve had a dodgy tap recently, my roommate and I.”

You chuckled and nodded. “I could drop by and see if it’s an easy fix?”

“Yeah, that’d be great, bub. We just live in the top apartment at the building with the blue door just over there so feel free to drop by whenever.”

You nodded and smiled again. “Well I gotta be off. I’ll drop by tomorrow.”

Logan smiled and waved as you drove off. He pumped his fist in the air, mimicking Wade, and grinned. Hell yeah, he was gonna get to see you again.

He walked back to the apartment and this time, he grabbed a beer and joined Wade on the couch. “You gotta skedaddle tomorrow so go work or something,” was all he said to Wade before the soccer game started.

The next day, Logan stayed home and made sure Wade was out the door by 8. The clock struck 10 and you knocked on the door like well… clockwork. He quickly opened the door and let you in.

“Hey, you’re here,” he smiled, “wasn’t sure if you’d turn up.”

You smiled and held up your bag. “Well I like getting paid.”

“And I like getting my tap fixed.”

You got to work and soon enough, you’d found the problem. You fixed it and when you stood up, Logan was standing in the doorway. He had a grin on his face and a beer in each hand. You hadn’t noticed how hot he was before but now he was standing there, wearing a white singlet and a brown flannel and looking super duper hot.

“That for me?”

He nodded and handed it over. “For a job well done, bub. And I’ll pay you as well of course.”

The two of you sat down and both had a beer. A bit after Logan finished his, he grabbed the money and handed it over. You stood up and contemplated leaving before turning back to him and chuckling awkwardly.

“You seeing anyone?”

Logan smiled and shook his head. “Thought you’d never ask, bub.”

You sat back down and leaned towards him, a smile on your lips. “Would you want to be seeing someone?”

“Is that someone you because I would love to be seeing you,” he said with a smirk as he leaned towards you.

When you leaned backwards and stretched, your shirt rode up and he saw your binder. He nodded to himself and leaned in a bit closer. “Haven’t dated a guy in a while so you wanna break me in again? We could listen to some rock?”

You chuckled and licked your lips before standing up and pulling your chair to next to him. You sat back down and shamelessly grabbed ahold of his hand and ran your fingers over it. “Absolutely, handsome.”

[bunnycatalina]

LaDS head cannon: How the guys react to MC freaking out about a missed period

Content warnings: Fem MC | Pregnancy/Pregnancy scare, breeding kink (mentioned)

—

With the recent uptick of wanders appearing in Linkon, you honestly hadn’t thought much about how tired you’ve been recently. You’ve been getting nauseous for the past week but figured it was just the flu that has been going around the Hunter’s Association. It wasn’t till a notification from your period tracking app prompted you about logging your period that you realised that it was late. After days of trying to convince yourself you’re just late from the stress at work lately, you finally cave and went to buy some pregnancy tests while freaking out about how to bring it up to your boyfriend.

ZAYNE

- He noticed that you’ve been avoiding him these past two weeks, usually you’d jump at the chance to meet up when you both manage to find free time between both your hectic schedules

- Your text messages has been rather short as well and Zayne was starting to wonder if he had done something wrong but you had assured him that everything was fine.

- Preferring to handle this directly, Zayne turns up at your apartment after work that night to talk to you about it after receiving a text from you that you just got home from another case.

- “Zayne?” You looked rather bewildered and frazzled when you opened the door to find zayne standing outside. You could see his eyes darting about your face, cataloging any signs of you possibly feeling unwell or upset. Seeing that you looked unharmed, albeit exhausted and slightly pale, he draws you into a hug with a sigh.

- Zayne knows you well, too well in fact, and could tell from your expression that something was up. Manoeuvring you both into the living room and onto the sofa, he holds your chin so that you can’t avoid eye contact “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

- The stress of holding back about the situation gets to you and it all comes out in rambles like a flood of information. You tell him about your late period, the nausea and the fatigue. About how you went out to get tests but you couldn’t gather the courage to do it just yet.

- He holds you close and you watch his eyes flash with shock, disbelief, worry, love and happiness. “Darling, take a deep breath. We’re gonna be okay. I love you and I know we haven’t planed for a child so soon but I would love them regardless.”

- You agree to do the tests and zayne holds you tightly while you both wait for it to process. Outwardly he looked calm and it was only the slightest tremble of his eyelids and his rapid blinking that gave away his true emotional state.

- When the timer rings you both jump a little to see the results, [Pregnant] [Pregnant] [Pregnant]. Staring blankly at it you’re startled when zayne pulls you into a tight hug, hand pressing your head into his chest where you could hear his rapid heartbeat.

- “I love you. I love you so much. Thank you darling, I promise I’ll take care of you both.” His voice sounded a little breathless and shaken yet full of conviction.

- He’s gonna shuffle you out that door and into Akso hospital as soon as possible to get an actual scan and all the pre-natal vitamins you could possibly need.

SYLUS

- You just took the tests and was waiting for them to process when you felt the familiar appearance of a presence you’ve been missing. Sylus had been gone on one of his trips for the past week or so which made it easier for you to hide how tired and worried you’ve been recently.

- Stepping out of the bathroom you see your boyfriend lounging on your sofa, having let himself into your apartment once again as he was so fond of doing. Locking eyes with you he stands up and makes his way over to you. “Something you want to tell me sweetie? Mephisto mentioned you buying something rather interesting today” He smirks

- To be honest it really wouldn’t be that big of a surprise considering how often he has you pressed into the bed…the walls…the table… you both had a pretty sizeable breeding kink and very healthy sex lives. Contraceptives were never 100% effective and all right?

- “Sy! You’re back!” Letting him sweep you into a hug you felt yourself melt into his touch, for someone meant to be the biggest bad of the N109 zone Sylus always brought a sense of safety when he was draped over you like this

- Tilting your face up to observe the dark circles under your eyes he frowns a little “Mephisto hasn’t been observant enough it seems. Have you not been able to get much sleep sweetie?”

- Looking away from him you mumbled about how you’ve been feeling rather tired recently and how your period has been late. Shifting your gaze back to him you quietly tell him that you took a few pregnancy tests right before he arrived and its waiting in the bathroom right now.

- You watch as his gaze softens and he looks at you with such love and devotion. Without another word he picks you up and carries you to the bathroom in a few quick steps. You hold your breath as he picks up the test so that you can both check the results.

- [Not Pregnant][Not Pregnant][Not Pregnant] you couldn’t help the pang of disappointment that you felt. While you both weren’t actively trying to have a child right now a small part of you couldn’t help but hope that an accidental oops miracle might have happened.

- “Do you want to have a little one sweetie? Talk to me love.” Spinning you around so that he can look at you, his searching gaze carefully trying to decipher your reaction. While talking about feelings were not his forte, he never lacks in trying to be considerate of you might be feeling after you both had previous fights from misunderstandings.

- Moving into the living room you both have a proper conversation about having kids and how you both felt from this pregnancy scare. Best believe this man will do his best to help you achieve it if you wished to be knocked up soon. You’re not going to be walking straight for a while after that.

XAVIER

- Your fatigue was slowing you down your reflexes in battles and Xavier has been concerned about you. He’s had to pull you out of the way and block more wanderer attacks for you recently than usual but you told him that you’ve just been tired from work recently.

- When he found you slumped over in a corner after a fight he decided enough was enough and was about to drag you to the hospital for a checkup when you panicked and blurted out “I might be pregnant”

- Xavier.exe has stopped working and you watched him tense up frozen on the spot, a blush spreading across his cheeks and ears, his eyes widening while staring directly at you

- “Are-are you sure? Is the baby okay? My star we should get you to the hospital” he chokes out and sweeps you into his arms princess-carry style. You could feel his body shaking a little and his eyes looked rather frantic.

- It takes you awhile before you manage to convince him that no you don’t need to go to the hospital and that you have pregnancy tests at home that you’ve already bought last night that you’ve yet to try.

- Xavier is going to teleport you both back to your house because let’s be real this man would not be able to wait and take public transport home.

- After you’ve taken the test you’re both anxiously waiting for the results and you can feel Xavier squeezing your hand tightly in his.

- When the time is up you pick up the tests to see [Not Pregnant][Not Pregnant][Not Pregnant]

- You couldn’t help the sigh of relief, honestly you just didn’t feel ready to have a child just yet. Turning to the side you could see your lover’s shaken eyes have calmed down, crawling into his arms xavier instinctively hugs you close and buries his face into the crook of your neck exhaling deeply.

- “You okay xav?” His arms squeezed tighter around you for a minute before he untangles himself to lean his forehead against yours and look at you. “I feel complicated my star. I’m relieved because I don’t think we’re ready to be parents and I know we haven’t had that conversation yet either. While we were waiting for the test to be done I can’t help but to think about how I can’t even cook for a baby and we both work such dangerous jobs who would take care of the child while we’re away on long missions.” He rambled with a nervous chuckle, “but I can’t help but to feel a little disappointed because I would love to have a mini you to love.”

- You both laugh at the thought of Xavier setting possibly setting the kitchen on fire again while trying to make a milk bottle for a baby. “It’s okay xav, someday we can have a child when we’re both more ready to be parents, just not now. Till then we can always practice the making part”

- You watched as xavier’s eyes darken as he pins you down “that I can do starlight” he huffs out in a hoarse whisper. Neither of you leave the house for the rest of the day, your poor neighbours are gonna curse the shitty soundproofing of the apartments.

RAFAYEL

- Rafayel would be ecstatic to start a family with you. He’s been dreaming of living his life with you for so long it almost doesn’t feel real now.

- You’ve both had this conversation before but it was always spoken as something in the future not right now

- You took the test in one of the bathrooms in mo studios while Rafayel was busy painting in fact. He’s been pouting that you’ve been too “busy” lately to spend more time with him when actually you’ve been avoiding going on his adventures with him as miss bodyguard considering you really haven’t felt very well. Which is why you were now staring at a pregnancy test while standing in his bathroom as you figured he would be too in the zone while painting to come look for you.

- Unfortunately for you, Rafayel was looking to procrastinate again after having lost his fleeting inspiration when you wandered away from him again 10 minutes ago. “Princesssssss, let’s go for a walk along the beach i- princess?”

- He finds you standing in the bathroom staring blankly at something you’re holding in hand. Walking closer he gets a better glance at what has you so absorbed that you were even ignoring him calling you

- “Is that? Are you? OMG We’re gonna have a baby???” He’s grabbing you in a hug and spinning you around excitedly “We’re gonna be great parents, best family, omg what if we have a little princess like you? I’m so gonna teach her to paint and draw and-“

- When he finally calms down you both have a proper talk about it and make plans for you to move in with him so that he can take care of you and the baby. “Thank you for giving me more to love, for giving me a family again. I love you Princess.”

—

Thank you for reading! Feel free to send me prompts or requests, i’m still new to this but im so deep in LADS hyperfixation that i’ve been churning out content in between actually gaming and reading every fic i can get my hands on ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

[chukys-mouthguard]

broken memories pt. 4

3.2k words

-> sequel to kinda tempting

featuring -> mat barzal x female reader x matt rempe

warnings -> mentions of loss of pregnancy/miscarriage

genre -> angst/suggested smut

After you’d posted the official statement to the Rangers socials, a flood of messages began pouring in. Your phone was blowing up to the point you couldn’t keep track. Many of Matt’s teammates had come to find you at the practice facility to offer their condolences, none of them having a clue as Matt never shared the news. Wanting to wait until you felt ready to tell everyone.

Your boss offered for you to head home early, figuring there was a lot on your mind and wanting to give you the afternoon to yourself. Which you didn’t feel was needed, however she insisted on it when you tried to protest.

Upon returning to your apartment, you’d found several floral arrangements had been delivered for you. The front desk of your building had held them all until you’d gotten home, then brought them up for you and left your kitchen island looking like a floral shop.

Looking through the cards you’d felt so much love and gratitude for everyone that had sent them. Despite it having been a little over a month now, you still had days that were harder than others. So now that you’d been able to share the news, and let people in on things, it made the weight on your shoulders a bit less heavy.

As you made it to the last floral arrangement, you’d found a card that was not one you expected to see. It was from Mat. The message leaves you a bit confused as you put it back on its peg in the arrangement. It wasn’t to offer his condolences about the loss, it was rather him reaching out to see if you’d thought any further about the conversation you’d had the other night. Then proceeding to tell you that he loved you, and always would. You weren’t sure whether or not you should throw out the flowers or smash the vase on the floor. The last thing you’d wanted to deal with today was anything other than the fallout of your announcement. Knowing that Matt would soon be coming over and you didn’t want to bother him with the situation.

You opted to place some of the flowers around your apartment, then naturally you pulled out your computer to get some more work done. With the season gearing up you couldn’t afford to fall behind, so you were backlogging content to ensure you’d have plenty of things to post daily. By the time you’d finished editing a few Tik Toks and Instagram Reels, it had been almost three hours. Matt was now walking in the door, his hair still damp from practice as he smiled seeing all the flowers that still sat on the island.

“Wow, did you decide to quit your job and become a florist?”

You smirked at him as you put your laptop away, walking over to give him a hug and a kiss before you started on dinner.

“Yeah, there’s honestly this one player on the team I can’t stand, Rempe is his name. Not sure if you know him? So I decided to just quit and work with flowers.”

He laughed as he looked at each of the arrangements, glancing at the messages of condolences and support from so many people.

“How are you feeling? My phone has been blowing up, kind of shocked to see how many people were reaching out. And people who have gone through similar things you know?”

You nodded as you prepped a pan for some chicken, then searched the cupboard for all the necessary spices.

“It is nice to feel like we aren’t alone. I honestly was a bit overwhelmed by it all. But I was really touched by the love and support everyone is showing for us. And for all the flowers, like holy shit!”

Both of you laughed as Matt went back to the flowers, smelling them and inspecting the different ones he’d never seen before.

“Y/n, what’s this?”

You glanced back at him as you finished setting the chicken into the pan. Squinting a bit as he held up one of the cards, unable to see anything that was written on it. Shrugging your shoulders as you didn’t want to state the obvious, but you weren’t sure what to tell him.

“A note?”

“From Barzal? You can’t be serious?”

You dropped your fork on the counter as you quickly tried to protest, wishing you would’ve tossed the card in the trash but it had clearly slipped your mind.

“Matt, listen. Let me explain, because it’s not what you think.”

“Hope you had a chance to think over our conversation from the other night. It’s always been you, I love you so much. I always will. Are you fucking kidding? Why am I never going to be good enough for you? Here I thought I’d finally been chosen by you, and he’s right there in the background trying to steal you away again. I’m always going to be second to him aren’t I?”

You watched Matt as he paced the floor, soon slumping onto the couch as his head rested in his hands. His body held tight to itself as he shook his head. His mind raced as he tried to make sense of it all.

You hated hearing him speak so negatively about himself, especially when none of the things he was saying were true. You were in no way putting him second or choosing anyone over him, but you could see how the note made him feel that way. And no matter what you said or how hard you tried to explain, you knew he wouldn’t believe you right now. These feelings clearly still present for him despite the fact you two had begun rebuilding things.

“Matt, please. If you just let me explain, you’ll understand that is not what’s happening.”

Matt pushed away your touch, pacing the floor as he tried to decide whether or not it was worth opening up about this. Despite the two of you working on starting over, his insecurities about not being good enough would always remain.

“Look, I get it. The way things began with us, wasn’t normal or how it should have happened. And certainly you getting pregnant wasn’t planned. But my feelings for you have never wavered, and I wake up everyday knowing that it’s you. Not because of a baby, not because of anything other than I want to be with you. Despite everything, it’s only you y/n. And the fact that he is still in the background, trying to be with you, I can’t win!”

Matt grabbed the flowers from the vase Mat sent you, tossing them to the ground as he needed to channel his frustrations somehow.

“Yeah I’m jealous. Sure I’m insecure. Because I’m never first choice, I never have been okay? So I’m sorry that for once I thought I was good enough to be someone’s first choice. And if you don’t feel that way, then why did we bother starting over?”

You were speechless, tears in your eyes seeing how upset he was. Not knowing that he still felt like there was even a chance you would leave him for Barzal. To know he had always felt like the second choice, or that he wasn’t worthy of being with you, it broke your heart. And before you could respond, he was grabbing his things to head for the door.

“Matt, wait please!”

But he was gone without another word, leaving you to regret not having just simply thrown out the note from Mat. You headed back to the kitchen, tending to the food on the stove that was close to overcooking. Though now your appetite has come and gone, simply packing up the food before retreating to your bedroom for the night.

-

You weren’t sure how much time had passed, maybe an hour or two, but you were jolted awake by the sound of knocking at your door. Checking the time, you questioned who would be there at almost midnight. Surely it wasn’t Matt, he had a key.

Slowly making your way to the door, you were shocked to see Mat Barzal on the other side. Reluctant to open the door you hesitated, questioning whether this was a good idea. Especially after the fight you’d just had with Matt over the note, you didn’t want any more drama to stem from Barzal stopping by.

Though curiosity got the best of you, and you’d unlocked the door, slowly opening it to see Mat standing there with a relieved smile on his face.

“Hey, I wasn’t sure you’d come to the door. Can I come in?”

Nodding your head you moved to the side, letting him in as he scanned the tens of flower arrangements on your counter.

“Wow, my flowers must not have seemed as meaningful to you today huh?”

His sarcastic tone caught you off guard as he almost seemed annoyed, clearly he hadn’t seen your post today or else he’d understand.

“Yeah, sorry I lost a baby and now your flowers don’t mean as much as the ones sent with condolences Mat.”

He looked to you confused, then realizing you must have finally made a statement, immediately cursing himself for being such an ass and making it about him once again.

“I’m sorry, truly. That wasn’t right to say. Of course these flowers were more meaningful to you right now.”

His eyes scanned the arrangements before finding a bundle of flowers on the floor, his heart sinking as he realized they were the ones he’d picked out.

“But it seems like you didn’t like them regardless.”

A soft chuckle left his lips as he bent down to pick them up, tossing them in the garbage as you could feel your frustration building by the second. Still unsure why he’d come all the way to your apartment if it were just to cause issues.

“Why are you here Barzal? If it’s to be an asshole then leave. It’s not the day for this.”

He was a bit caught off guard by you calling him by his last name, something you only did when you were angry with him.

“You didn’t text or call, I wanted to see if you’d gotten the flowers and my message.”

“Oh I got it, and your flowers ruined everything. So thank you so much, I love them!”

You crossed your arms over your chest as you looked to him for anything further, but he was unsure what to say. Not expecting to come here and argue. In his mind he’d planned on you telling him you thought about everything and wanted him back. Because that’s how Mat’s brain worked, that he was number one always. Everyone always picked him, folded for him and gave in. But he could see that wasn’t the case with you anymore.

“Where is this coming from? Don’t tell me you’re actually picking him? Did our relationship mean nothing to you? I broke off my engagement for you y/n! It’s always been you for me, and this is how you treat me?”

“I didn’t ask you to do that! You did that all by yourself. And no, the cheating on me meant everything to me. It ruined me. It pushed me away and I’m sorry but whether I did the same thing back to you, I will never look at you the same. I’ll never choose you. I can’t.”

Mat’s mind was racing, he couldn’t fathom you not choosing him. To be turned down by the girl he thought he could always run back to, it was a deep cut to his ego.

“Because you two were going to have a baby? After a one night stand? You just throw everything we had away for Rempe? I don’t understand how you could pick him over me y/n!”

“Because I love him!”

The words hadn’t even registered in your mind before you spoke them, catching yourself off guard as much as you’d caught Mat in the same position.

“Oh really? You love him?”

Mat took a step closer to you, his eyes scanning your face to try and read your thoughts. Not thinking as he acted on his impulse, his hand moving to cup your cheek as he crashed his lips to yours. Your hands immediately came up in protest, pushing against his chest to get him away from you. Followed by your hand striking him across the cheek, letting him know you were serious.

“Yes, I love him. With my whole fucking heart. I am choosing him, and I will continue to choose him every single day from now on. Because he isn’t going to treat me like you did. He’s selfless, kind, loving, understanding. He doesn’t expect me to melt at his feet and fold for him like you do. He feels like the luckiest man every single day to have me by his side. Something you took for granted the day you chose to cheat on me. So yes, I love him. And it’s always going to be him. Now get the fuck out.”

Without another word Mat headed for the door, speechless as he took one last look at you before you’d shut and locked the door behind him. Retreating back to your bedroom, checking your phone for a text or call from Matt, but nothing. You could feel the tears welling in your eyes at the thought of losing him for good this time, after finally realizing how much he truly meant to you. Not bothering with it being almost one in the morning, you typed out a quick text before plugging your phone in.

I know you probably hate me, I’m sorry. But I promise, I will always choose you. I love you.

-

The sound of your apartment door unlocking startled you, but you’d quickly calmed down as you knew it could only be Matt. Your heart skipping a beat as you were relieved he’d come back, telling you that he wasn’t too mad to stay away. Soon enough his tall frame was in the doorway of your bedroom, his silhouette illuminated by the moonlight that was shining through your window. His chest was rising and falling quickly, likely due to the fact he’d sprinted upstairs from the parking garage.

“Did you mean it?”

His voice was soft as he slowly made his way over to you, seeing that your eyes were beginning to fill with tears. Your emotions getting the best of you as you were happy to know he’d come back, his words not registering in your brain.

“What?”

He sat on the bed next to you, taking your hand in his as his thumb slowly brushed over the skin.

“Your text, did you mean it?”

All you could do was nod your head, Matt inching closer to you as his hand made its way to your cheek. His touch sent chills down your spine as his lips now hovered over yours, teasing you ever so slightly as his eyes held contact with yours.

Before you could apologize again for earlier, his lips crash onto yours. His hand tangled into your hair as the other pulled you into his lap. The two of you fought one another for control as Matt moved so his back was resting against the headboard. A smirk on his lips as he could sense how eager you were for his touch, your text message still vivid in his mind. The idea that you’d chosen him, that you only wanted him, it excited him in the moment even more.

His hands held your hips as he grinded you down against him, not embarrassed about the growing erection that was beneath his sweatpants. A smile on your lips as you let out a soft giggle at the feeling, though you loved knowing he was turned on by you. His hands roaming your body before pulling your lips back to his. The kiss now more intense than before, his tongue slipping past your lip as he took control, but did his best to keep things soft.

This wasn’t about getting right to sex in his mind, it was about taking his time to savor the first fuck after you confessed your love for him. And he couldn’t wait to hear the words fall from your lips. He knew the moment you’d said the words to him, he would be like putty in your hands.

“Can I hear you say it? Please?”

He voice was breathy as he smile at you, his hands moving to play with the hem of your oversized tshirt that had now rode up on your thighs. Exposing your skin to him as your ass slightly peeked out from under the fabric, resting firmly in his lap against his cock that was painfully needing its escape from his sweats.

You smiled down at him, brushing his hair from his face as your fingers traced his features. Your thumb brushing over his bottom lip before stealing a kiss, your hands resting at the back of his neck as you looked down at him.

“I love you Matthew Rempe. So fucking much. Today, tomorrow, and the next day after that. It’s you, I choose you. And no one else.”

Without warning he quickly flipped you over, now hovering over you as he laughed at the small shriek you’d let out at his action. His hips grinding into you as his lips kissed from yours down to your neck, pulling up your shirt to kiss down your chest until he reached the string of your thong.

Looking up at you his smile faded, a more serious look on his face as he hooked his fingers under the string of your thongs. Slowly pulling in down your legs and tossing it to the side, his sweats soon followed suit before he’d found his place above you again.

Your hand slipping between the two of you to help guide his cock to your slit, the two of your letting out a soft moan as he’d slowly thrusted into you.

“Fuck, Matt.”

Gripping his biceps he’d waited for you to adjust to him, his thrusts slowly starting as he felt you ease up on your grip. Your legs instinctually wrapping around his waist to pull him closer, his arms now resting on either side of your head as his lips met yours, swallowing your moans as he’d begun to pick up his pace.

Fingers tangling in his hair as his lips moved to your neck, kissing and biting at your skin as he could feel your pussy clenching around him, letting him know you were slowly reaching your peak. But he didn’t want this to end so quickly, needing to take his time and be sure to love every inch of you. To show you how much he loved you and needed you. His thrusts ceased as he brushed your hair from your face, his thumb brushing over the skin of your cheek as he smiled down at you.

“You make me the happiest man in the world. And I promise to never make you regret choosing me. I love you so much.”