#like. look at them and tell me they aren't the absolute WORST

[ghostlyapivorous]

Like, ok I get it's a kid show but I really feel like Shope and Kevin are the kinda middle schoolers to either tell each other to kys over the most mundane of things, or CONSTANTLY making their little white friends uncomfortable by accusing them of racism at every possible opportunity. Maybe both who knows

[pr0cyon-lotor]

AU where instead of Shen Yuan being obsessed with Luo Binghe, he's instead obsessed with the scum villain himself. I mean we all know Bingge is Very Not Good Person™ but you know who else a Very Not Good Person™? Say it with me: Shen Jiu

Like just imagine a timeline where Shen Yuan is writing paragraph after paragraph about how Shen Qingqiu might actually be a good person but Airplane is wasting his potential. The other commenters are saying he's delusional because he abused the protagonist and as all these TERRIBLE allegations towards him. So he's a clear cut villain.

But Shen Yuan is defending his fav with the vigor of a devout worshipper. He's constantly siting parts that are obvious plot holes and how they could give much needed context to Shen Qingqiu's character.

Other people are demanding for worst things to happen to Shen Qingqiu to spite him. Airplane caves. Shen Yuan actively commissions art and fics where Shen Qingqiu is happy. People tell him "Shen Qingqiu won't fuck you bro"

Shen Yuan isn't interested in that. He's a freaky little man with freaky little likes. He'd gladly take Shen Qingqiu's cold glares and even volunteer to have tea poured on him.

When he finishes PIDW, he's been outraged that Shen Qingqiu was killed off a while back. He's even more outraged that Shen Qingqiu wasn't given any mention at the end.

Now, imagine with me that he gets transmigrated into some NPC, literally Unimportant Character No°5. Probably as the head disciple for drama reasons. And as soon as Shen Jiu is brought in, scruffy and hissing as he is. He immediately hugging his thighs and saying he'll be peak lord for sure.

Please follow me into this suspicious alleyway as I continue to explain my vision fueled by sleep deprivation.

So now imagine your Shen Jiu. You're a former street rat and demonic cultivator, you aren't expecting to be liked or respected. You're expecting it, you've come to terms with it a long time ago. What you weren't expecting was for this random ass guy you have to call da-shixiong is immediately insane about you.

He met you first day, literally saw you bite a guy, and immediately started spouting out how you'll be the next peak lord and the absolute envy of Cang Qiong Mountain. You conclude he's missing a few screws because he said it in the most disgustingly sincere way.

You try to continue on with your life, trying to beat him and he looks almost... Excited about you beating him. So he's an M, you think to yourself. But then you see someone trying to beat him or you on something, and this guy immediately gets aggressive. Okay so he's just weird with you.

You continue to deal with him. He's weird but also weirdly respectful. He leaves if you tell him to leave. He defends you like it's his very birth right. He's always there to tend to you as if you were a god. He doesn't touch you and only sits around like a dog waiting for a command.

You eventually get strong enough to beat him, and this absolute buffoon is over the moon about it, already spouting about your supposed success again.

When you actually become peak lord, it isn't surprising. Your hype man has been saying it since day one, he was expecting it for some reason. He continues to spout out nonsense about how he just knew you were going to do it.

So what now? You obviously desire him carnally. What is the next step?

Okay so I know this wouldn't fix them. Almost without question this would make they both worse. But, hear me out, it would be funny. (Especially since just know Shen Yuan's entire inner monologue would be him saying he's just being a good friend as if he isn't being the gayest man in the sect and Shang Qinghua is there. That's an accomplishment to outgay the author)

[mattyriddlesbitch]

Would you be willing to do Slytherin boys x shy!reader?? If you can, thank yoiuu!!

Yes! Love shy reader with our boys!

Draco Malfoy

I don't think he cares if you're quiet or loud. He just likes you.

Doesn't try to push you into situations you're not comfortable with. Other than maybe something his family is hosting. He is practically pleading for you to go so he isn't lonely.

The type to order for you and talk to workers for you if you feel too shy to do it.

BUT will also tease you with it by saying "My wife wants x." when you guys are still just dating. He thinks it's funny when you get flustered, but won't overdo it.

Will def tease you in private too. If you get shy and blushy about something he does, like taking off his shirt, he's gonna keep doing it.

Tom Riddle

I think he prefers someone quiet and shy. Likes to be able to be with just you and doesn't have to worry about you talking to someone else when you two are out together.

Also wouldn't push you into situations you aren't comfortable with.

I don't think he'd order for you tbh, but will stand up for you. Someone talking shit about you, well...we know how that goes for them.

Wouldn't tease you intentionally, but might do something that makes you flustered and he finds it amusing, but isn't going out of his way to do it.

Would definitely love having private little date nights with you instead of going out somewhere in public where you might feel overwhelmed.

Mattheo Riddle

I covered him in another headcanon BUT

Loves shy girls. He looooooves making them flustered.

Will encourage you to get out of your comfort zone, but isn't gonna force it. He wants you to be happy, but he also thinks some things would be fun with you.

Will order for you and talk to workers for you like Draco. Will also stand up for you. Likes I said in the other one, he's showing up to your dorm covered in blood and a sweet smile.

ABSOLUTELY will tease the shit out of you. He's the worst. Doesn't matter if it's in public or private. Will whisper nasty things to you in public to see you blush. Getting super physical with you in private to make you flustered, like constantly touching you, will strip too, claiming it's for his comfort.

So overprotective of you though, he won't let anyone else tease you.

Blaise Zabini

I feel he prefers someone more extroverted, but does enjoy the power he gets when he makes you all shy.

I feel like he'd have you talk to workers and all that, just so he can see you all flustered. But he will take over if it gets too much for you.

Will also encourage you to get out of your comfort zone, partially for his amusement, but also because he wants you to get more comfortable with things. He can't be there 24/7 to protect you.

Will stand up for you too, but he won't be violent about it. I think worst he'd do is hex them or pull a really nasty prank on them.

Also loves teasing the shit out of you. Shy of PDA? That sucks. He's gonna kiss you and have his hand on your thigh or an arm around your waist. Would definitely point it out too, but only in private.

"No need to be shy around me, ma." "It's just us."

Lorenzo Berkshire

Doesn't care about you being shy or extroverted.

Sweet, sweet, sweet boy. Talking to workers, ordering your food, standing up for you, even telling his friends off if they go too far with you.

I do see him getting into a physical fight with someone too over this. A lot of people think he's too sweet, mans is not afraid to fight, especially when it comes to you.

Does encourage you out of your comfort zone every now and again, but overall doesn't push you.

Would only tease you in private. He doesn't want others getting the idea that they can tease you, so he'll keep it private. Minus a few cheeky comments or sly touches when no one's looking.

Theodore Nott

I do feel like he'd prefer someone more extroverted, but, like Blaise, loves how easy it is to get you flustered.

Will stand up for you, even to his friends, BUT refuses to order for you or talk to workers. He wants you to get comfortable doing it yourself.

Will definitely try pushing you out of your comfort zone. He'll be there to comfort and ease you the whole time, but he does want you to do more things you're not used to or comfortable with.

Absolutely teasing you in public. He's not even sorry. Shameless PDA with you, wants to see you blush and stutter.

Will let his friends tease you two, but not just you. Like, let them gag about the PDA and your blush, but if they laugh at you doing something embarrassing, he's MAD.

Taglist:

@jeannie-beannie @yourenogoodforme @mixvchelle @helendeath @evaslytherpuff

@ireallyneed-somesleep @soaked4abby @hpnsfwaddict @mayamonroem @motherfing-stargirl

@dracoslovergirl @littlemadamred @mattheoriddlesbitch

Let me know if you wanna be added!

[virq-qgo]

Wolverine x reader

Uh, yeah i know its been like two years LOL. Literately after posting my last fanfic my dog died of cancer. Got like super depressed lmao.. anyways i watched the new movie and i creamed my pants so i had to write the absolute worst fanfic ever. So like this is a warning, its been two years since ive touched my computer and my skills aren't that good anymore.

summary: going to the bar undercover with the man you hate the most had a twisted turn, not expecting to get shot or telling him your feelings.

warnings: cussing, bad writing, random character death, bad writing, not proof read, and this is really long for no reason..

You didn’t quite understand why you were being dragged along with this so called “mission”

It was just one bad dude who robbed a place, so why were you at a damn bar with the person you hate the most. Everyone was aware of this. You two couldn’t be in the same room together without an argument that almost leads to a fight. So why are you here?

So sitting on the bar stool with a glass of water in your hand, a skirt you were wearing too short and a top that left the mind to wonder. What made the whole situation worse was that your worst enemy was sitting next to you, the wolverine aka Logan Howlett.

You knew he was enjoying this by the way he was ordering shot by shot, it was disgustingly attractive the way the man could pour down the hardest liquor down his throat. Rolling your eyes, you focus back on the bartender, watching him make drinks and showing off to the drunken girlfriends or wives. Obviously ignoring the wicked glares he received from their partners sitting next to them.

“Hey, bartender.” you hear Logan call out. “I need something a little harder than this.”

“Nothing for the beautiful lady sitting next to you?” the man behind the counter smirks as he poured a drink for another customer. Totally ignoring Logan's request.

A soft polite smile sits on your face while trying to stuff down the unpleasant feeling you got from the bartender. “Only if it's on the house.”

“For you?” he smiles, “you can have whatever you like.”

Your eyes crinkle from disgust but to the bartender it was from joy. “Oh, you know how to touch a woman's heart.”

You hear Logan scoff while feeling his dark eyes on you. It’s been 10 minutes since you two have been here and you're already getting underneath his skin.

“Something wrong Logan?” you call him out, turning to face him instead of the creep you call bartender.

Logan rolls his eyes as he tosses his head back and downs his shot. “Show a little boob and wear a tiny skirt, and you get anything you want.” 

“Yeah, I would say you should try it. But you don’t have much to show..”

“Is that how you got here, getting passed around the team?”

 “Yup,” you say with a sarcastic smile on your face while pretending to count to the number 8 on your fingers. “Just gotta get into your pants and then I get my reward.”

Logan looks at you with a face of disgust not sure if you were messing with him or not. “Excuse me?”

Just as soon as you open your mouth to make a smartass comment. A sudden yell echoes across the room then the sound of wood breaking. Both you and Logan twist around to see the scene. There you see the “bad guy” you guys were supposed to be after. He had just brutally smashed someone's head into the table, successfully breaking the table in half.

“That a murder.” the words fall from your lips when you see the broken piece of the table

through the poor soul's head.

“Shut the fuck up you fucking clown. That's our guy.” Logan responded in a whisper. But when he didn't hear a snotty response he twisted his head to look at you, only to find your seat empty. Instead he saw you walking towards the scene, causing a deep growl to fall from his lips. Finding himself to chase after you.

Typically, you would leave this stuff for logan. But the guy was instantly on the run. And you didn’t really have a choice but to chase after him. “Hey excuse me!” You yell at the bad guy, instantly frowning as you see the blood cover his hands and shirt.”where do you think you're going, dude? Breaking that table and killing that poor guy? What an asshole!”

The bad guy looked at you, his brows furrowing. His body filled with rage. Who do you think he is and calling him “dude”. If you were here to stop him, then so be it. But you were just a girl, and women are weak. You were easy to dispose of. “Listen lil’ lady. I'll give you a quick death if you leave me alone.”

“I don’t think so, I need you to come with me anyways.”

The man sighs as he hears the words fall from your lips, “How annoying.” he thought.

“Hey, don’t you fucking run off on me like that.” You hear Logan say as he walks up next to you. Making you roll your eyes and turn your head to face him. 

It was so quick to happen you couldn’t even process it, the only thing that processed that very moment was the ear ringing bang that echoed through the air. Then Logan shouting your name. You remember seeing him running away, his face looking angry. It felt like you were standing there for hours, like you were zoning out. Then you remembered him, the guy you were supposed to get. But as soon as you took that first step, that's when you felt it. Burning pain spreads through your body making you want to cry out. Your hand instinctively reaches out to where you feel the pain, not expecting your hand to be bloodied when you pull it back to inspect it. 

You got shot. 

Now you remember why you guys were supposed to basically kidnap this guy, he was a mutant. His abilities were dangerous. The way he fought was with guns and his bullets being made by his blood, it's how he killed people. It was poisonous.

Soft curses leave your lips as you press your hand tight against your wound, but your blood was still pooling out. You felt weak, like you could barely stand and keep your eyes open. You felt as if you were gonna drop dead at any given moment. But you had to help Logan, you two were supposed to do this together. 

The first step you took, you felt your knee give out. Sending your whole body to the ground, but the impact never came. Instead you feel a strong pair of arms lift up your weak body, your eyes see logan. But you refuse to believe it was him. He wouldn’t do this. Why was your body seeing things?

“You idiot! Why did you run off and chase after him like that? You know you don’t have any special abilities to protect you if he attacked you, so why?” He yelled, Logan was truthfully more scared and worried than angry. He was running as fast as he could to the jet to get you medical aid. But he only had so much time to spare before your body was consumed by the poison.

“What happened?” your voice was soft when you asked.

“You were shot in your chest! I can see the huge fucking hole!”

“I can feel it.” Even though you were basically dying, you couldn’t help but make a simple joke. “Y’know, even though you’re a total dick. You have good arm muscles. I like the way they can hold me so tightly. I feel like a princess.” you smile “If it takes getting shot and dying for you to

care, then maybe i should get shot more often.”

Logan frowns as he hears your comment, still rushing to get you to the jet as fast as possible. “You’re so fucking stupid, you’re not dying. If you wanted me to hold you in my arms then all you had to do was ask bub.” 

A weight of relief went off his soldiers once he saw the jet, he was right there. But when he looked at you, he saw that your hand was pressed against his chest and your eyes were on him. Barely opened. “Hey, stay with me.” he comments. “Keep your eyes open, please. We're almost there!”

Your eyes scrunch together as you see his lips move but no words come out, it didn’t help much that you were fading in and out of consciousness. Growing up, you were told not to be afraid of dying because you could die at any given time. Despite all the missions you’ve been on and how many times you were knocking on death's door. You were never afraid. But today was different, why were you so afraid? Maybe it was because you're dying pathetically, or the fact that you're in the arms of a man you’ve fallen in love with.

“I’m sorry.” you tell him, your voice soft and weak. Blood drips from your lips and down your chin. Your hand grabbing his shirt. Everything was going by so fast. In the middle of a deep silence, you look up into Logans eyes, knowing these might be your last moments together. Pain rushes through your body and words fly out of your mouth before your brain can catch up, and you’re saying what you’ve always wanted to say. “I love you.”

He freezes, shocked at your words. He looks down at you, taking in your face, and the pained look on it. You can see his brain racing like a speeding train, and his breath catches in his throat. “You’re an idiot. Why did you wait till this point?”

“I- I thought I would have more time.” was all you managed to say before shutting your eyes.

Finally, Logan runs up the rail of the jet and sets you on the cot. Watching the aids surround you, immediately taking quick action. With the flight there and taking you into emergency surgery. They finally came up to Logan, who fell asleep in the infirmary's waiting room. Telling him that you were okay and would make a good recovery.

Without wasting a single second, Logan rushed to your room. His heart dropped once he saw your frail, weak body. Connecting to different types of wires and IVs. He felt terrible, guilt consumed his body as thoughts raked his mind, he could've prevented all of this, all of your pain. Only if he was faster.

Logan found himself staring at your body, wanting to reach out and take your hand. He pulled up the chair by your bed and sat down, his eyes switching from your resting body to the monitor. Finally mustering the courage to take hold of your hand. “I’m sorry that I wasn’t quick enough, I should’ve been the one. But I was so fucking slow, in my own god damn bloody mind.And  I’m sorry I didn’t tell you that I love you back, I was just so scared. Scared that if I told you, I would never get to tell you so again. I was so fucking selfish. But holy shit, I'm so in love with you. It hurts so much. But I'll make sure to tell you every single chance I get. I love you.”

“You better get started.” you say with a smile on your face. 

Logan looks at you in a state of shock, not expecting you to be awake. Without holding back, he basically launches himself onto you. Wrapping his arms around your weak figure, wanting to hold you tight but being so gentle with you. “You’re okay” he breathes out of relief, “You’re an idiot, but you’re okay.”

“I love you too by the way.” The smile on your face was wide, you were in so much pain. But you were so happy. Never in your life did you think you would be here, but here you are. In the arms of the man you’ve pretended to hate for so long.

“Oh shut your pretty little mouth.” Was all he said before pressing his soft warm lips against yours. 

If someone had asked you what it was like getting shot, you would probably tell them it hurt really fucking bad and wouldn’t recommend it. But if they asked you on a personal level. You would tell them that you would do it again if it meant that you got to see Logan care for you. But it still hurt like a fucking bitch.

[d3stinyist1red]

ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ʟɪɢʜᴛ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴘᴀʀᴛ 𝟸

yan light who is the sassiest man you've ever met

yan light who literally looks at Misa up and down in such disgust, it literally its like a popular mean girl looking at a nerd like damn hoe

yan light who wraps his arms around you, and literally says the sweetest things to you but then when it's Misa, he acts like she doesnt even exist

yan light who tells you he has to pretend to be misa's bf crying, like he's actually crying tears, blood, sweat, and everything

"b-babbyyy!! I d-dont wanna be wit-with that g-girl, I pro-promise!!"

"wife, does this mean I'm free?"

"Y/n L/n, leave me and I swear to God, i will roam the fucking earth searching for you."

yan light who even a complete stranger could tell he doesn't like Misa at all compared to you, he literally hugs you in public, kiss your jaw, hold your arm, hand, meanwhile with Misa, the farthest thing he has ever done was pat her shoulder 💀

yan light who in college, spends all his free time searching for you to hang out

yan light who memorizes your schedule, waiting outside your class whenever the bell rings

yan light who now sleep over at your house because he loves searching through your closet, searching for a hoodie that smells the most like you

yan light who literally thinks of ways to absolutely destroy ur TV and phone, he's quite literally only in some tight black shorts and ur hoodie and u don't wanna devour him??? Why tf are you tryna watch Tom and friends when he's literally there suggesting sex

yan light who you don't pay attention to all night, watching some Tom and friends cuz that shit mad entertaining, and light is over here rubbing his thighs together, glaring at the TV

Yan light who grabs you hand and puts it on his thighs, making your hand grip them.

Yan light who looks at you for a reaction, but you were STILL not bothering to look at him,

yan light who was pissed and sassy at you the whole night, turning his back to you and huffing, furrowed eyebrows

"hey, aren't ya gonna hug me? im cold"

Yan light who scoffs but turns around and begins to cuddle you, head between your boobies, forgetting why he was mad in the first place

yan light who wants to cut handcuffs on both you and him so you'll NEVER be seprated from him, literally wanting to bawl and cry at the thought of him without you

yan light who feels like he cant breath without you

yan light who literally thinks about the worst thing happening to you when you dont answer his call or text within a minute, about to start pulling at his hair and chewing on his nails with a crazy look on his face

yan light who memorizes your voice, the way you walk, the way you eat, the way you clean and everything just because hes that obsessed over you

yan light who is so close to using his death note on misa just because she managed to small talk you, glaring at her with such hatred you would think she killed his dog or sum

yan light who always making sure he holds the door open for your and giving you snacks when you dont have any

yan light who buys you things you've been recently talking about, telling you he deserves a kiss for what he did for u

yan light who is ur jealous lil wife <333

SOMEONE HELP NO MORE REQUEST P<LS ITS LIKE I SOLD MY FUCKIGN SOUL OMG I DONT EVEN KNOW WHERE TO START ATTHIS POINT

JKJK SEND REQUESTS IF U WANT

[ariestrxsh]

.・✫・゜🚿・。.・✫・゜🚿・。.・✫

⚠️ content warning: ⚠️ smut, oral, fingering, degradation, slight praise, spitting, unprotected sex, mean!matt, roughdom!matt, brattamer!matt, friends to lovers (but without the fluff)

📝 author's note: 📝 this is the second part, and you can access the first part to this story here 💖 (i promise it's better if you read part one first)

✍️ Summary: ✍️ Matt, who is your worst enemy, but the brother of your two best friends, makes an interesting bet with you while you're using the water at their place since yours is out. Having lost the bet, Matt gets to have his way with you.

.・✫・゜🚿・。.・✫・゜🚿・。.・✫

hatef--k part two

He threw me onto his bed and menacingly hovered over me.

"You wanna act like a little brat? I'm gonna eat you like a little brat," he responded in a deep and gravelly voice. He ripped my towel off me completely and maintained eye contact with me as he lowered his lips onto my pussy. The feeling of his soft, wet, velvet tongue against my sensitive nerve endings felt magical, but I tried to keep my composure. I couldn't let him know I liked it.

"You're so disgusting. I don't even know why you'd wanna eat me. Aren't I too used up for you?" I asked him, trying to keep a look of dissatisfaction on my face. "No, I love a little used up whore," Matt responded.

He continued caressing my clit with his tongue, moving it in small circles, slurping up all the wetness. "God, you fucking suck at this," I lied through my teeth, trying to look unamused.

Just then, he amped it up a little. He started licking me faster while holding eye contact, and then he started gently suckling on the bud between my legs, and I couldn't help but moan his name while he did this.

"Yeah, I can tell how much you hate it," Matt sarcastically moaned against my pussy. "Fuck you, Matt," I said as more of a desparate whimper than a snide comment. "You're such a little fucking whore," he whispered in between licks. I involuntarily moved my hips in circles against his tongue out of neediness.

"You love it when I degrade you while I eat your pretty pussy, don't you?" I wanted to deny it, but the way Matt rolled his tongue across my clit shot an electric current through my body that caused me to grip his hair, pushing him further down onto my sensitive bundle of nerves while I moaned in approval, and I felt myself become even more wet. "That's what I thought," correctly assuming all that was a yes.

"You're so fucking disgusting. I love it," I whispered, losing my willpower to argue with him while I smiled down at him. He lifted his mouth from me and brought his face an inch away from mine while he started running his fingers over where his tongue was.

"You've been waiting for this, haven't you? Talking shit to me, hoping I would punish you into submission. I can smell a brat from a mile away, and I can tell how bad you've always wanted it," he gruffly whispered while he played with my special button between my legs.

Maybe Matt was right. Maybe I had always wanted him, and maybe that deep longing turned into a hate along the way or visa versa. Maybe I spent so much of my time hating him that I became obsessed. And maybe he could always tell, but I was only just now coming to terms with how fucking bad I wanted it.

He grabbed me by my throat, and as I opened my mouth to let out a moan, he spit in my mouth. "You make me sick," I chimed in. "Yeah, if I make you so sick, why'd you swallow my spit? Plus, I'm sure you've put way grosser things in there," Matt taunted me, shoving two fingers into my mouth.

He slipped those same fingers inside of me and I automatically clenched around him as he fucked me with them. He leaned down and started teasing my nipple with his tongue.

"It would be so gross if you forced your cock down my throat and came in my mouth," I whimpered while I imagined how fun it would be to suck his dick. "Yeah, it would be absolutely filthy, wouldn't it?" Matt's smirk grew wider. "Yeah, I would absolutely hate it," I whined, and the look in his eyes let me know that he knew that whenever I said I would hate it, it was code for I would fucking love it.

"Get on your knees," Matt said, pulling me up by my hair and dragging me out of his bed. The way he was handling me was so rough, yet I couldn't get enough of it. He forced me onto my knees, still holding me by my hair and stood over me while he undid his pants with one hand.

"This is one way for me to get you to shut the fuck up. Wish I'd tried it sooner," he shoved his throbbing rod into my mouth and wasted no time bucking his hips, chasing his own pleasure, making me deep throat him. I gagged and drooled all over him while my eyes started to well up. "Yeah? You've got nothing to say now? What, cock got your tongue?" He chuckled at his own joke while he pumped away.

"It's like your pretty little whore mouth was made for me, huh?" He whimpered as he started to get closer. I felt him pulsate against my lips, but instead of just filling my mouth, he pulled it out halfway through and finished on my face too. "Oh, fuck," he moaned loudly as he squeezed out every last drop he had built up in him. "Ugh Matt, you're so gross!" I screeched with drool and Matt's bodily fluids dribbling down my chin. "That's so gross," was really just code for, "please, I cant get enough of it."

"Shut up bitch, you fucking love it. Plus you look so pretty covered in me," he whispered breathlessly reading between the lines of what I was saying. He still grabbed the towel I had used earlier and started wiping my face off for me, which I found endearing.

"C'mon, to your feet. I've gotta take care of my little slut now," he pushed my back up against the wall, spread open my legs and started fucking me. I hooked my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck. Despite how big he was, I was so turned on, there was no resistance when he slid it in. I couldn't pretend I hated it anymore. It was feeling too fucking good.

"Matt, please," I whispered. "Mmm, that's my dirty little girl. I've been waiting so long to tame you," Matt said while he mercilessly railed me, each thrust hitting deeper than the last while he fucked me against the wall. His words and his movements had me unraveling rather quickly.

"Oh, Matt, you're making me close," I breathlessly whined. I took in the delicious sound of my wetness, our moans, and skin slapping against skin that filled the air as I approached my orgasm.

"C'mon, you little slut. Be a naughty girl and make a mess all over my cock," Matt whimpered as he approached his own orgasm. Hearing the way Matt was speaking to me sent me over the edge. All my muscles tightened and spasmed around him while he pounded away. "Fuck, Matt. Fuck. Oh my fucking god, Matt," I yelped out as I finished on him. He kept going, coating his entire length in my milky fluids.

"Oh fuck," he moaned in response as he lifted me off of him. I leaned back against the wall to keep from falling over, and Matt rested his left hand on the wall above my shoulder to stabilize himself while he filled his other palm with a generous rope of his spunk.

"Wow, that's what made you cum? Me telling you to make a mess on my cock? Dirty little slut," Matt smiled at me as he caught his breath from his own orgasm, stroking the last few drops of cum into his hand. "No, it was just a coincidence," I lied. "Sure it was," He laughed at me. I smiled, biting my lip. He leaned in and kissed me one last time after wiping off his hand.

"C'mon kid, let's go get you cleaned up and finish that laundry of yours," he said, rustling my hair. "If you tell your brothers, I'll deny it to the grave, and then I'll come back and haunt you," I said. "Even if I did, they would never believe me," he laughed.

I still kind of hated him and still thought he was disgusting, but damn, I was already plotting what ways I could misbehave so that he'd fuck me like that again. Maybe all the unspoken anger between us was just unresolved sexual tension. Maybe all we needed to keep from killing each other was to fuck each other's brains out.

tags: @st9niolos @theyluvme-2315 @luvs4matt @mattsbrowser @ribread03

part three posted here

[gotholdladywithadhd]

Unpopular opinion, probably.

So I've read many metas, and thought a lot about it and have come to my own personal conclusion about the final 15.

I'm taking it at face value.

Because it was the most human Crowley and Aziraphale have probably ever been and I think that is at least part of the point. Love makes people stupid and they are navigating a very human thing in very unhuman circumstances, and it's hard enough to do as a human in human circumstances!

I think Aziraphale believed the Metatron about Crowley bc he was expecting the worst when TM mentioned Crowley but instead got the one thing he wanted most (him and Crowley together and safe, not Crowley being an angel. ) Crowley was absolutely the carrot here. (and no I do not think Crowley would have been safe or happy, but that's besides the point.) I can't tell you how many times I've believed patently ridiculous things because I wanted to believe them so badly even though if I was looking at the same situation objectively from an outside POV I would see how ridiculous it was, so I totally get it. This isn't to say I think Azi had a real choice to go to Heaven or not and I think he did understand that as well, but I get the temptation the Metatron threw out to him, I really do.

As for Aziraphale literally saying all the wrong things to try and get Crowley to come with him? Um yeah been there done that too, the nerves take over, the brain shuts off, the mouth goes into autopilot pulling stuff out its ass, and "WITAF did I just say?" happens.

Crowley not taking any of it well and only hearing what he expected to hear (I'm not good enough for you bc I'm a demon and you only really want me if I can be an angel) *and* also being more able to see through heavens bullshit bc he has lived it, and can see it from the outside, *and* all whilst being the most honest and vulnerable he has ever been with Aziraphale in 6,000 plus years (or in fact possibly to anyone, ever. the closest before this admitting he was lonely to Azi during the Job minisode,) *then* hearing what he took to be the same Heaven will save us line from Azi was enough to trigger a massive bout of RSD and a broken heart. Everything was supposed to "vavoom and sorted! " and instead the stupid awning broke and everything went wrong. I think I've said it before that at this point Crowley can't hear anything over the sound of his heart breaking into a million pieces.

That's a whole lot to pack into the brief moments before Azi has to leave with the Metatron (who let's be honest was rushing him before he could change his mind) esp when neither of them are used to discussing their relationship openly. They didn't have time to think, to ask questions, to share information, (like hey guess what really happened to Gabriel?) Crowley tried to communicate as much as he could about his feelings with the kiss but Azi didn't have the time to properly process all that and said the wrong thing again and Crowley was rejected (he thought) again and it all just went so very wrong. You can't fix a 6,000 year relationship in 15 minutes, you just can't no matter what the story books say.

It's about two people wanting the same thing but not being able to get it (yet) because of circumstances and personalities. All of S2 was about them seeming to be closer than ever (and in many ways they were) but really they were opposed at almost every turn. (in RL not the minisodes, those actually showed them working together and coming out okay mostly, if you don't count wee Morag or Crowley getting dragged to hell) The way they both handled the Gabriel situation, how they both worked to solve the mystery, even how they tried to make Nina and Maggie fall in love were all either done alone, or in opposite ways. I've said it before and I'll say it again, as it was pointed out right in ep1, their exactlies aren't the same and until they are, they aren't going to be able to be together. The one time they did work together in the season, they produced a 25 lazuri miracle. That is the point of the final 15, and the whole season 2 in my opinion.

They'll get there in the end though!

[iid-smile]

queen-like treatment, ino takuma

x fem!sick!reader ! ino calls you "ma'am, sunshine, queen", he builds you a pillow fort (it's a castle in his eyes) ino lowkey rizzes you up with micheal jackson lyrics, kissies at the end, just fluff and silly stuff, not proofread

author's note: after seeing how starved ino lovers were, my creative juices were fr flowing!! also i just needed some cuddles

"you're hot~" ino mumbles, his cheek smooshed against your belly as his face rubs back and forth on you. he's been glued to your side ever since you called him over to help you out. has he helped whatsoever? no. not at all. he's been a total cuddle bug since he walked through those doors, making you impossibly hotter than you needed to be, and refusing to acknowledge that he might catch your cold, just touching you all the time.

meanwhile, you're stuck, sat there with multiple tissues, bottles of water and chocolate bars by your sides. your nose has been running nonstop; it's itchy, irritated, and bright red. like rudolph, he would like to say. it stung to keep your eyes open, it stung when you tried to close them, and there's multiple dry and wet streaks running down your face from your eyes watering up.

"i don't like how you're telling me that when i'm burning up and experiencing the worst fever of my life." you mumble, still running your fingers over his nape and fiddling with the material of his beanie despite how annoyed you felt towards him.

"don't worry, i meant that in a lot of different ways." he turns over so he can face you, his usual overly happy smile plastered on his face. "how could i not find my lovely girlfriend hot when her cheeks are all flushed and she hasn't moved in the past five hours?"

now you're feeling the heat in your cheeks. "ino." you warn.

what a way to expose you, huh? he's too cheeky for his own good, yet still respects you as if you're some sort of higher being in status. seriously, find a middle ground, ino. "yes, ma'am!" he exclaims, still giggling as he nuzzles into you again.

a little pout of frustration manages to find its way onto your lips. "i should be the one cuddling you, not the other way around." and your nose blocks again, so there's an awkwardly placed pause as you try to clear it out, aggressively blowing into a fresh tissue. "i'm the sick one here."

"i'm keeping you warm, aren't i?"

that wasn't what you needed, though that's kind of your fault for not explicitly telling him. "i'm literally sweating."

"well, you can sweat off all of those germs. because i!" he suddenly gets up, standing by the edge of the bed and crossing his arms. he looks... oddly determined. "your lovely boyfriend, am going to cheer you up."

silence.

"...for real?" you sound impressed, but you're more perplexed by his sudden and random declaration.

"for real real, sunshine." he smirks.

sounds like a challenge. "okay then," you push your elbows to lean up on the bed frame, quickly adopting a confident front. "amaze me, mr ino takuma."

"oh, trust me, i will. give me thirty minutes. i'm an absolute architect at stuff like this."

thirty minutes indeed went by. you wiped your nose and eyes every now and then as you listened to the clatter of noise just a few rooms away, hearing a panic or complaint come from him sometimes. he's amusing, even when you can't see him.

you weren't keeping track of time, but maybe the minutes claimed really did pass, as your ears couldn't pick up anything else going on. perhaps he was done with whatever he was doing. that was, until you heard his footsteps walking back to you.

"i just wanna touch and kiss~" you watch with furrowed eyebrows as ino slides, or rather moonwalks back into the bedroom, clicking himself a beat as he recites the chorus to "butterflies". a song he's dedicated to you, and is so deadset on playing it at your future, not-yet-planned wedding. "and i wish that i could be with you tonight~"

now you can't tell if you're still confused, or actually getting a little flustered from the sudden vocal serenade.

he dances his way all the way up to your bed again, and holds out his hand to you. "will you take my hand, my queen?" and he winked. he winked! how sappy can this guy get?

it would be a crime to decline after he just did all of that.

"you don't have to call me that..." you mutter, glancing away as you put your hand in his palm. he swiftly lifts you to your feet, and your knees buckle as his arm hooks underneath them, carrying you like a princess. "w-wait—!"

"relax! i gotta treat my queen right." with you still in his grasp, he brings you out of the coziness of your bedroom over to the living room. "and the big reveal!"

the surprise was right in front of you. a huge— no, gigantic pillow fort, spanning over the entire couch carpet and floors, the cold wood neatly covered in fluffy blankets. the pillow walls were also draped in thin covers and fairy lights, creating a soft, golden glow. "had to build you the castle you deserve, sunshine. surely this cheered you up?" obviously, he's proud, putting you down on your feet so you can explore on your own.

"yeah..." you subconsciously say, walking closer to really take in what he's done for you. you follow the little path of lights leading up to the entrance. "yeah, it did..." impressive. he did this in thirty minutes?

once again, he's by your side, gently coaxing you by the shoulders to move faster. "go in! i'm gonna come in after you."

you crawl in and sit down a little more to the left, and he comes in after you as promised, moving to the right so he can comfortably settles down in front of you. "look, all of the plushies are here too. stole all of them and you didn't notice a thing." he kidnapped your plushies! you were looking for those during your wait, wondering why your usual bundle of animals weren't atop of your pillows. no wonder he made sure he kept his front to you walking out: they were stuffed in the back his hoodie.

sneaky... "you're seriously a child at heart."

"nuh-uh! my heart is all yours." he leans forward a bit, his gaze focused on you. "it's like you're a charger constantly giving me more battery. i only got you to blame for all of my energy."

just like that, you're blushing again. you turn your head away to the side, a groan coming from you as you struggle to face him. he giggles again, but then goes suspiciously quiet. maybe you should look again?

once you peek at him, one of his eyebrows raise in smugness, but his face soon softens at the sight of your bloom. then, his eyes drifting up to something above you before looking back down, almost as if he was telling you something was up there. and there was. a poorly drawn mistletoe on lined paper, cut out with ragged edges and ripped in some places, stuck to the roofing pillow.

"it's september." you deadpan.

"can't ever be too early for christmas, can ya?" he grins, shifting to sit closer in front or you and taking both of your hands into his. "can we kiss or no?" just slightly, you can hear him mumble a little please under his breath.

how can you stay mad when he loves you like this? you sigh, yet the corners of your lips lift, betraying your annoyed facade. "kiss."

ino's been waiting for this the entire day. at least three times an hour, you'd have to reject a kiss anywhere near your face because you don't want him catching whatever you've caught, and now he finally has you! he just can't help but get a little eager, pulling you close and toppling you over, hugging you in the tightest grip he can as your lips remained pressed together.

you really weren't surprised when he called you up the next morning, complaining about a cold that seemingly came from "nowhere".

[meguwumibear]

cant stop thinking about fake dating monoma....

"You're asking me out?" he laughs. Monoma laughs with his whole body. Mouth. Stomach. Hands. He uses them all as he insults you. "My how the mighty have fallen."

You roll your eyes with an exacerbated sigh. Motherfucker never did listen to much other than the sound of his own voice. Selective hearing. Shinsou tried to warn you. Monoma hears only what he wants to.

"I'm pretending to ask you out, dipshit," you clarify. "To boost our stats."

The plan seemed reasonable enough when you first hatched it. The public loves to stick their upturned noses into the private lives of heroes. The more a hero discloses, the higher their rank. Correlation and causation or whatever-the-fuck your PR team said. You need some press. You need to leak something juicy. Hence, fake dating Monoma. It's foolproof, isn't it? Now that you've actually pitched the thing to the smug bastard, you're not so sure.

"How's dating you gonna boost my stats exactly?" he asks.

"Well, for one I out rank you," you say, eager to throw that in his face. "Hanging around with someone in the top thirty is bound to increase your position. The top spots aren't determined solely by number of saves and take downs. It's a fucking popularity contest, and we're competing for a crown."

"Hmm, hmm, hmmmmm," Monoma hums as he theatrically taps his pointer finger against his chin in faux contemplation. God damn you picked the absolute worst person to fake date. Should've gone with the perverted grape guy instead. Little fucker probably would've jumped at the opportunity to call himself your boyfriend.

"I don't have all day, Monoma," you say. "You in or you out?"

He flashes you a disgustingly cheeky grin. The smile is all teeth and absent of any semblance of sincerity.

"Oh, I suppose I could be swayed," he relents. "If.......," a pregnant pause for dramatic effect. Typical, "the fake girlfriend package comes with real girlfriend privileges."

You raise an inquiring eyebrow at him. If the smarmy git wants sex he can ask for it like the grown ass man he is instead of alluding to it like some high school brat.

"I am of course referring to sexual intercourse," he oh-so helpfully clarifies. "Including, but not limited to-"

"Yeah, yeah," you say with a wave of your hand to shut him up. If you have to listen to the end of that sentence you might end up punting him off the roof. "Whatever you want."

Monoma's eyebrows disappear behind his poorly styled emo bangs that he never aged out of. "Whatever I want?" he parrots. "God, you're just as desperate as the rest of them without the numbers to back you up. Think the Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight would result to such petty tricks?"

"Yes or no, Monoma," you huff, pressing at your temples to stem an impending tidal wave of a headache. "If you're above this maybe I'll ask the Great Explosion Murder God himself."

Monoma's eyes darken at that, despite the fact that he only has himself to blame for putting the idea in your head.

To his credit, Monoma collects himself quickly and shoves his phone in your hands.

"Number and addy," he says. "I'm staying with Kendo so my place is OOTQ for R-rated content. I'll swing by yours after my patrol tonight for a trial run. I'm guessing you can afford to live alone. based on your rank, number thirty."

"What fucking trial run?" you ask as you add your contact to his phone. You throw in a red heart emoji too, before replacing it with a peach, tongue, and water emoji instead. The pretend relationship needs to look real and there's no way in hell Monoma's the romantic type.

He smirks as he snatches his phone back from you.

"Figure I'm entitled to a seven day free trial before I actually subscribe. It's just good costumer service. Even that prick Bezo's knows it. Don't tell me the aspiring number one hero has less ethics than that capitalistic pig?"

"Oh for fuck's sake," you spit. "Fine. What the hell. Not like I want to be stuck fucking you if your dick game's mid. Swing by tonight. Bring your tiny cock and that bratty attitude of yours. Might be nice to fuck it out of you."

Monoma's grin is borderline predatory. His mouth is open wide enough to expose the sharp tips of his teeth again, and they look like they're just itching to bite. He leans over the table to whisper his next few words in your ear.

"My dick's not tiny," he says, before excusing himself. Then, as he turns to leave, "And I won't be the one getting the brat fucked out of them tonight. See you soon, love."

He disappears around the corner with one last wave of his hand, and you can't help but wonder what the actual fuck you've just gotten yourself into.

[theminecraftbee]

Wels hums as he walks through the shopping district. He doesn't need much, but with the recent release of Overlord, he wants to hear if any of the establishments are playing it. He doesn't expect it somewhere like the Permit Office--Grian's spent too much time and money getting a song that was as perfectly annoying to be put on hold to as possible--and if it is playing in the log shop, he will laugh. But music tends to spread around Hermitcraft fast, and sure, this isn't about anything specific, but who's gonna miss a good opportunity to dunk on Doc?

He hears the backing beats from a nearby shop and hums along with them, walking down the path--

--then turns a corner and leaps back.

"You," Wels hisses.

Hello. Awfully rude of you not to include me, you know, says the specter.

"No, there's absolutely no reason for you to be here. None at all!" Wels says, throwing his hands up. "The last time I saw you was--gosh, I don't even know. Season Seven?"

Yes, yes, and the only time you saw me, you aren't lying to yourself at all, the specter says agreeably. Come on. We both know I was haunting you for what little of Season Eight you bothered to be around for.

"If you were on Eight then you super shouldn't be here," Welsknight says. He shakes his head and looks up at the shop playing his song. Joel's? Huh. Wouldn't have thought he'd have a reason to make fun of Doc. Welsknight removes his shaking hand from his sword hilt again and starts walking.

On account of you leaving everyone there to die, yes, we're both aware, the specter says.

"Oh, screw you, you wouldn't have done any different, get new material," Wels says. "Also, you aren't real? You're like, all of my insecurities or whatever. You don't even have a real body right now, no one's made you one."

The specter shrugs. I mean, if I'm the worst parts of yourself, really, you're the one who needs better material. Abandoning all your friends to die and then abandoning them altogether--it's a wonder they let you stick around!

Wels rolls his eyes and forces his hand to stay out of his inventory. Wouldn't do to give away that still even gets him. He peaks at another shop. They're playing the song too, but it's ever-so-slightly out of sync, which is kind of terrible. As he does, Cleo waves at him. Their eyes sort of stutter right past Helsknight, which definitively tells him exactly how much body the specter even has to possess right now.

"I'm actually having a great time with my friends this season, so like, the whole 'abandonment' song and dance isn't going to work this time. Started the season with them and everything; hard to even go for 'they'll forget me at the first opportunity' or whatever."

The thing is, the more Wels says it, the more its true. None of the insecurities and pain points that the specter is echoing back at him are what he was actually thinking about. He's been like... fine? Sure, he's definitely still got repressed negative traits, but nothing like "Xisuma's evil twin brother playing around with his head" or "the moon crashing and killing everyone" or "too depressed and burnt out to get out of bed" or "sort of considering abandoning everyone because that's like, his thing" these days. None of the things that should bring the specter that had haunted him since Beef's cloning machine back to him without a body. But Wels is careful about clones outside of something like Vault Hunters, where they're explicitly under his control. He, like, doesn't even armor stand much. So that can't be this either; Helsknight clearly doesn't have a body to be messing with Wels yet!

...Helsknight doesn't even have a body or an actual insecurity to be poking at Wels with yet.

He stops. He puts his hands in his pockets, and turns around to face Helsknight. He is no longer shaking at all.

"Dude, why are you even here?" Wels asks.

I told you, it was rude to leave me out, Helsknight says.

"What," Wels says.

The final bars of Overlord play over the speakers. Welsknight hums and nods before it suddenly clicks.

"What," Wels says again.

Honestly, you're not normally this much of a moron. It was rude to leave me out. Rapping is also my thing.

"Dude," Wels says.

I could totally destroy Docm77 any day. I would obliterate the fool you call a "friend" in ways you cannot comprehend. You invoke a sacrificial goat? I know ways he'd never recover, gods he'd never be able to retrieve himself from. It would be laughable. And you left me out.

Wels stares at the demon from his nightmares.

"You're mad at me because you didn't get to be in my diss track," Wels says.

You let me be in the last one, Helsknight says.

"Dude," Wels says. "Dude, that's pathetic."

Helsknight sniffs. I'm your worst qualities. What does that say about you.

"I didn't even write this for this season," Wels says.

That makes it worse, Helsknight says.

"I don't even know where to start? For one--no, I still don't even know where to start," Wels says. "This is like, the lamest reason you could possibly have to come haunt me. Go away, I'm basking in my like, top 3 charting hit on the Hermitcraft server."

Top three? Pathetic. There are only three songs. You'd be the top song if you'd simply included my power, Helsknight says.

"I can't beat the streaming minutes Grian puts on that hold--look, uh, dude. You're, uh, a very scary representation of my fears and worst qualities and all. Appreciate that. Next time I need to do a diss track, I don't know, maybe I'll invite you? First you've got to stop appearing solely to make my life worse, though. Bring me a cookie or something. I don't know, whatever demons do."

I'm not a demon, I'm a Shadow. We're different, Helsknight says. ...I'll think about it.

When Wels turns the next corner, Helsknight has vanished again. Wels stops in the middle of the street, looks around, confirms the specter has vanished, and then bursts out laughing.

"What the Hels," he says, somehow feeling lighter and more bemused than before. That's a new feeling with his doppleganger. Then, he goes to visit Big Wood. While Doc definitely isn't playing the song of his own accord, Wels figures that Beef just might, and given the day he's having, that would feel like a kind of irony Wels isn't sure how to describe. Besides, he wants to see if Doc will notice if Wels sets the song on loop or something. What can he say--the man's reactions to being taunted are spectacular, and Wels loves seeing them. Call it a bad quality of his or something.

[drsbutmakeitspicy]

A bit in the future of the Single Dad!Carlos CarCar au:

Carlos was on a video call with other members of the team on a Friday afternoon of a rather cold day, a boring meeting that could have been an email, a meeting that he didn't even need to be part of. He could be relaxing analyzing some data he has been given early this morning while sitting on the bean bag by the baby mattress on the floor, where Catalina slept. Or he could be home by now, making dinner and washing clothes as she slept. His thoughts get interrupted by a knock at his door, before he can say anything Lando makes his way inside with Oscar right behind.

During non-race weeks the drivers had meetings with race engineer and strategists, sim work and marketing duties. 

“I'M DONE WITH TODAY, WHERE IS SHE?” Lando announced as he goes in, Carlos was glad he was muted.

”Lando! shh” Oscar says in a loud whisper, pointing to the toddler who now got her big brow eyes open and her faint eyebrows narrowed looking at Lando while still laying down. One of the many rules at the Sainz office was: Never wake up the baby, but if you do, you deal with her wrath.

She makes small whimpering noises as the first tears leave her eyes. “Oh baby girl, I'm so sorry.” he tells her in a sweet voice, crouching down with Oscar by his side watching the Brit try his best. Carlos keeps his eyes both on the call and the boys, watching the disaster he knows is about to happen.

As Lando picks her up she lets out a wail and cries loudly.  “No no no baby, Uncle Lando didn't mean to scare you!”

She is shoving his chest looking around searching for her father, still a bit confused from sleep. It was the worst choice Lando could make, he forgot that in situations like this Carlos lay down by her side and caress her hair until she falls asleep again.

He is also starting to panic as swaying her is not helping. Oscar sigh “Lina, baby.” He puts both hands in front of her, grabbing her attention. 

A gesture that she learned by the time she was 7 months old, he is asking if she wants him to hold her.

“Hey, it's not fair! She always wants you” and sure enough she extends her arms, small hiccups still leaving her mouth as she babbles nonsense for him. 

“You're okay baby, see? Uncle Lando didn't mean to scare you.” She is grabbing his shirt as he cuddles her close, swaying slightly.

Oscar makes eye contact with Carlos, who is up from his seat, ready to do something about the whole scene and watches his daughter rub her face on Oscar's hoodie - there's a chance she will fall asleep again, good. - he thinks as he sits down.

“In the kitchen fridge, inside the pink bag.” is all he says to the Aussie who already knows what to do. “Lan, let's give her a bottle and see if she will go back to sleep, maybe she will forgive you after.”

Lando just scoff with a disgusted expression “She absolutely love me Mr. Piastri! If you give me her right now you will see Uncle Lando is the best, aren't I, Catalina?”

“She will cry again, Lando. Just go to the kitchen while I deal with this meeting.” Carlos hands Lando a baby blanket and shoos them away, mouthing a ‘thanks’ to Oscar.

Before closing the door they can hear Carlos apologizing and asking someone to repeat the question. As it closes with a click they turn right on the corridor.

Lando has the baby blanket around his neck, walking a bit behind Oscar, faking that it's a fancy scarf, throwing it back and making silly faces which has earned him some giggles from the little girl that is laying her head on Oscar's shoulder.

“You cannot tell me she loves you more because you have sisters, mate.”

Oscar turns his face to look back at Lando, confused.

“Well, good. Cause I never told you that. I said I know what to do because I have 3 sisters and helped my mother with them growing up.” 

The small kitchen is not far from Carlos office as he is one of the few people that uses it.

“Then why is she so attached to you?”

Lando puts the tiny blanket on Oscar's shoulder as he goes to open the fridge, grabbing the pink bag and setting it on the table.

Oscar uses the corner of the blanket to wipe her tears. “I don't know.” She giggles when he nuzzles his nose on her hair, tiny hands grabbing the yellow blanket.“She just chose me, mate.” The beeping of the microwave grabs Lando’s attention. “See if it's the right temperature, I'll try to set her on the high chair.” Before Oscar can turn around-

“No high chairs.” He is surprised to see Carlos walk in. “Maybe if she agrees Lando can hold her as she drinks, no?” 

“Why no high chairs?”

“I'll explain later.”

Carlos ask Lando to pass the bottle checks it's temperature, he points for Lando to sit down on the big bean bag on the corner and turns to Catalina in Oscar's arms.

“C'mon princesa, you're probably hungry.” she goes with him easily babbling ‘papapapapa’.

“Be good Cariño” he tells her as he hands her to Lando who is distracting her with the warm bottle, pretending it's a plane.

The Brit sticks his tongue out in Oscar’s direction as if saying I won as she accepted the bottle from him. Drinking happily while looking around, trying to grab Lando's curls.

Carlos steps back to where the Aussie is, his fingers touching Oscar's in a light caress barely noticeable to others, repeating the motion enough times to make it known as not an accident. They stand there watching how Lina smiles with her eyes as Lando baby talks to her.

Oscar feels bad lying to Lando, but he also knows the Brit is horrible at keeping secrets, he doesn't know how Catalina is still a secret for the media.

He knows why Lina is attached to him, he just couldn't mention how many nights he spent at the Spanish man's house reading her stories, helping her with her dinner. He couldn't mention how he was there for them when she got the scary high fever Carlos always talks about. He couldn't tell Lando that he ended up falling for the man and god forbid he finds out they kissed for the first time last night. 

“You're drinking too fast Miss Lina, this is almost empty. Can she have another one ?” he looks at Carlos who takes a step creating a gap between him and the blushing Aussie.

“Only one is fine, try to burp her Lando, you remember how, no?”

“Pff, yea” As Lando gets in his own world talking to the toddler and patting her back Oscar takes his place back close to Carlos and laces their fingers, squeezing it twice.

[milkmily]

Can you write a Choso x reader where he has a fever and reader takes care of him? At first he downplays it but then he gets clingy and all.

(Reader doesn't need to have any specific traits but do whatever you like)

Ty and have a great day <3

Fever [Choso Kamo]

Choso Kamo x Reader

A/N:I love Choso sm I want to smother him with so many kisses, and leave lipstick all over his face and neck. Anyway thank you sm for requesting this I love it sm 😭 thank you again sm! Sorry if it's too short :( also I got covid two weeks ago and god the fevers were the absolute worst. They had me crying too 😭😭

Request: Open! :)

It first started as a small sore throat in the morning. Choso tried to drink some water to wash off the sore throat but it didn't go away. Okay…

Then the constant sneezing. It isn't allergie season though…

And finally the fever.

Oh god the fever had him praying to whatever fucking God there was to help him. He groans as he lays on the bed. He grabbed all 3 blankets from the small storage room and lays down with all 3 of them, wrapping himself.

You were noticing all of this happening too. You had asked Choso if he was okay or if he needed anything but he would just say it's probably the dust that got him sneezing or that he was fine. But of course, you knew something was wrong. You were getting ready to go out with Yuki for some drinks when you heard a huge thump on the bed and looked. It was Choso.

“Are you sure you are okay?” You ask Choso, who was wrapped around with 3 blankets. “I'm fine, go and do what you need to do.” Choso said and buried his face in the blankets. His whole body felt cold, any slight movement made his body temple and cry.

“Choso you aren't okay, baby, what's wrong?” You ask. You knew how your boyfriend could be. He struggles with telling you what can be bothering him or when he's sick. “Just go out with Yuki, it's your girls night out.” He says, a bit muffled up from the blankets. You bite your lip and sigh. “Okay, but I'll be back. If you need anything please call me or text me, okay?” You say as you put your knees on the bed and get close to give him a kiss On his forehead but he stops you. “No.”

You raise an eyebrow and hold his hand, you pin it on the bed and take off all the blankets. You press the back of your hand to his forehead and pull away quickly. “You're burning up!” Choso looks away, his body aching even more now that he doesn't have the warmth of his blankets. “You have a fever, Choso.”

“I'm fine.” He says and takes your hand away from him. “It's just a small fever. It will go away.

“Small? Are you crazy?” You sigh and shake your head. “Look, I'll be back. I'm going to get you some medicine from the pharmacy.” You say as you get off him and Choso looks at you as he sees you change your pretty outfit to something more comfortable. You still had your makeup and hair done, which he found super cute. “Do you want me to bring anything to eat or you want me to make you something?” You ask as you put on your sweater.

“I'm okay [Name], please.” Choso says as he grabs the blankets again to cover his body up. “No, you're not. Please Choso, let me take care of you.” You say as you hold his hand. He sighs and turns to face the wall. You shake your head and walk out of the room. Choso hears the front door open and close. He closes his eyes as his body trembles.

His stomach growls and he groans. He didn't really want anything heavy or greasy. He has been craving one thing though. He grabs his phone as he opens his eyes and sends you a text.

Choso (9:10 PM)

Can you bring me some Miso soup?

From the place we like to go to

Please

My love (9:13 PM)

Okay I will

Anything else you want, baby?

I'm bringing ice cream to help with your fever as well

I love you ❤️

Choso (9:14)

I love you too 💜

Choso smiled as he looked at the text. He wished you could simply lay in bed with him so he could cuddle with you, feel your lips on his forehead and cheek, to feel your warm body against his own. He felt super touch starved. But he always is been touch starved. Even if you leave to go to The bathroom he feels upset to not have you against him.

And he won't admit that he also felt jealous. You go out with Yuki to drink or to eat. He just wants you all to himself. But he knows that you want to spend time with your friends. He knows you love him. He just misses you everyday.

He hears the front door open and he sits up. Choso lays back down as he hears the door to the bed open. “Okay, I brought you the soup.” You say as you place everything down on the small table that was in the middle of the room. You raise a brow as you look at Choso. “You want me to bring you a cold washcloth for your forehead?”

“I'm okay.” He says. “Okay. Here, take this medicine. It will calm down your fever.” You say as you place the pill on the nightstand and a glass of water. “I'll be right back okay. I'm going to the bathroom.” You say as you leave. Choso sighs and gets off from the bed. He grabs the pill and Glass of water and takes it.

He sits down on the pillow that was on the floor and covers his body with the blanket. He grabs the bag with his Miso soup in it and opens it. He sighs and waits for you to come back to the room.

He closes his eyes, feeling his body super exhausting. He suddenly feels a cold rag in his forehead causing him to jump. “Here. Now eat, you haven't eaten anything all day.” You say as you sit next to him. “Don't get too close.” he says.

“It's okay, I'll be fine.” You say and stand up. You grab a hair brush and sit on the bed behind him. “You were busy avoiding me all day, you forgot to brush your hair.” You say as you brush his hair.

He couldn't stand it anymore and just let you run your hand through his hair. He lets out a sigh of relief as the fever starts to calm down, his body no longer crying from the pain. He soon is done eating his soup and crawls on to the bed and lays on top of you. You chuckled and ran your hands through his hair. “Though you said to stay away?”

“I can't stand it anymore. I miss you.” He buried his face in the crook of your neck “I'll take care of you next.” You shake your head and wrap your arms around him. “You're heavy, baby.” You say and Choso rolls off from you. His back pressed on your chest as he went into a ball and felt your lips on his neck, causing him to shiver. “I love you.” You whisper. “Also, you are acting like a baby.” You giggled. Choso didn't care though. He just wanted you close to him. “Don't go out with Yuki this week.”

“why?” you raise a brow. “Just stay with me this week. Please?” He turns to look at you and you nod. “Okay.”

Who can say no to such a beautiful man like him?

And three days later you ended up with the same fever. Your body ached as you wore a hoodie, sweats, and three blankets on you. Choso of course, Being the best boyfriend he is, took care of you very well. But Choso simply couldn't leave you alone no matter how many times you told him he could get the fever again.

[lonelywretchjervistetch]

The State Birds Initiative: New Jersey (#3)

Welcome to the third official poll of the State Birds Initiative! Before the poll, though, one thing real quick. My suggestion is that you read the post below before voting in the poll below. That's especially important if you're lacking any context about the birds being presented as the new (or old) State Bird of the Garden State, New Jersey. This is to be fully informed as to why these are being presented, and to make your choices appropriately. Lastly, some of these birds, you will notice, may go against some of the rules listed in the introduction post. All is explained after the jump where the explanations are, I promise you that. But with that...OK! Here's the poll! If you'd like to see the last post, check out Pennsylvania (Poll | Results)

So, with that done...New Jersey.

OK, I'll be honest, I have very little history with New Jersey. Only been there a few times, I've driven through it a decent number of times, and I mostly know it by reputation. But, uh...for whatever reason, every trip I take that requires me to go through New Jersey, NJ is the worst driving portion of that trip. Basically every time. Maybe that's a New Jersey turnpike problem, maybe that's unhappy coincidence. Hell, maybe it's conservation bias from being a New Yorker (upstate, but I've gone to the city regularly throughout my life). Or maybe it really is cultural reputation for New Jersey trickling in to my subconscious (looking at you, Jersey Shore). But either way...I have complicated feelings about New Jersey.

But this post is NOT about my personal geographic experience. Mostly. It's about birds! So, let's get into New Jersey objectively. Third state admitted into the union, state capital is Trenton, largest city is Newark, and it's the most densely populated state in the country. Famous for being the origin of electricity in civic infrastructure, as well as the home of their favorite son, Thomas Alva Edison. Which...when you learn more about the guy, makes you wonder about New Jersey as a whole. MOVING ON! It was a major staging point in the American Revolutionary War, and ever since, it's been all about freedom. Even though you can't pump your own gas there. Although, to their credit, the Statue of Liberty is actually technically in New Jersey waters. Yeah. That's absolutely true. But, like...it's spiritually a New York landmark, so we'll let it slide.

Now, here's the thing about New Jersey, seriously and truly. It has a bad reputation because of media and New York City. This is for two more specific reasons, from what I can tell. One, the New Jersey Turnpike sucks, and it smells like raw sewage due to its proximity to industrial factories and processing plants. And unfortunate way to experience the state, and the main way I've experienced New Jersey personally. So, that's one, and it's not indicative of the state's quality. Number two is simply the fact that it's a hub for commuters, with lots of people going to either NYC or Philadelphia for work. Because of that, Jersey itself gets pieces of their cultures combined, which also makes it a very easy target with a unique accent. So, not Jersey's fault.

In reality, it's quite a nice state with more natural area than you'd expect for somewhere so densely populated. New Jerseyans, unsurprisingly love their state...and aren't big fans of tourists, from discourse I see online. It's a small state, which makes it crowded enough. Plus, there are tourist attractions there. There's the massive American Dream Meadowlands mall, there's MetLife Stadium, there's Six Flags Great Adventure, there's...Trenton. Actually, no, Trenton sucks, I stand by that assessment. But it's also a highly diverse state, with the highest proportion of Hinduism followers in the country, as well as the densest collection of LGBTQ+ social centers (AKA gayborhoods), amongst other things. NJ does deserve more credit.

Now with that said, let's talk about the natural world of New Jersey, because there is a surprising amount to talk about. 45% of the land is covered in mixed deciduous-coniferous forest, which you've probably noticed is typical of the NE USA. Oak is our primary tree here, which is also probably why Northern Red Oak (Quercus rubra) is the state tree. It also has some major ecological features that are well known for its natural advantages. Cape May is a seaside city and vacation resort, but also one of the most well-known and important sites for birders from the United States during migration seasons, making it immediately prominent for this post. Great Swamp NWR in the north is the first wilderness area ever designated by Congress, and also serves as a major refuge for birds during the breeding season for various reasons. And maybe most importantly, the New Jersey Pine Barrens are the largest remaining pine barrens in the NE USA, and act as a bastion of diversity. More on this later, I promise; there's a species entry dedicated to this unique environment.

And that's not all to talk about here. NJ's environment needs some focus for a number of reasons, not least of which being that the state has more toxic waste dump sites than any other state in the Union, which are the focus of the federal Superfund environmental remediation program. Yeah, there's some cleanup that needs to happen in the state, especially as it is so small. Of 150 federally listed sites, only 35 have been cleaned up since the 1970s. So, yeah. We should get on that, please. But with that said, NJ has relatively low carbon dioxide emissions compared to other states, they're seventh in solar power, and get most of their electricity from natural gas and nuclear power. So, it's a greenish state that could be a lot greener.

There's a lot to talk about for such a small state, it would seem. Let's not linger about, and let's get on with the show here! I'm honestly kind of excited. Birds after the jump!!!

American Goldfinch (Spinus tristis)

Let's kick things off by talking about the incumbent, the American Goldfinch (Spinus tristis). Now, why was the American Goldfinch chosen as the State Bird of New Jersey in 1935? Easy answer: favoritism. The bird was nominated as the only candidate by the New Jersey Audubon Society because...it was their mascot at the time. Yeah. That's it. In reality, the New Jersey State Bird is the New Jersey Audubon Society. And even then, it's officially lost its relevancy, because that's not their mascot anymore. More on that later.

What's actually worse about the goldfinch here is...for some reason, not a lot of New Jerseyans have actually seen them. Part of the reason for this entire series, by the way is this Reddit post, which stoked the fires that had long been simmering deep within my soul. OK, not that deep, but still. Anyway, the header of that post is that the OP had barely ever seen an American Goldfinch, despite being a native. I thought that was insane (and said as much in my comments), because this is a ridiculously common bird, especially for birdwatchers. But, uh...I've looked into since then. And only 0.4% of its global breeding population resides in the state. What's crazy is, this is a common sentiment amongst New Jerseyans. They just...haven't seen this bird. And obviously, that/s not every new Jerseyan, and a lot have reported seeing it. But to be honest...is this bird really worth being called the State Bird of New Jersey?

OK, can we make the American Goldfinch make sense in retrospect? Let's see, they're a highly social finch species throughout the year, living in dense colonies in the spring and summer especially. The males are late breeders with ornate flying displays meant to attract females, and may group territories with other males to defend against predators. And they're an open secondary growth forest specialist that live in the state year-round, including during the breeding season. Which means...well, actually, it means that they're perfectly suited to live in New Jersey, funnily enough.

Hear me out here. There are two things that goldfinches love most: forest clearings and weeds. New Jersey may be 45% covered in forest, but it does have deforestation as a minor problem around its settlements. However, that's not a problem for the goldfinch, who thrives in secondary growth forests that occur as a result of succession. Given an attempt in recent decades to recover New Jersey's forests, this means the goldfinch is a potential symbol of these efforts. Plus, its love of the seeds that come from flowers that are pest plants, like dandelion, thistle, ragweed, and cosmos, make it a potentially attractive bird for gardeners of the state to attract, especially as those plants thrive in open fields during stages of succession!

...YES I'M STRETCHING MORE THAN AN AUSTRALIAN BREAKDANCER WITH A DOCTORATE TRYING TO MAKE A POINT, BUT WHAT ELSE AM I SUPPOSED TO DO WITH THIS MASCOT OF AN ORGANIZATION NAMED AFTER A SLAVE-OWNER???

So...moving on.

Clapper Rail (Rallus crepitans)

While the majority of natural New Jersey is covered in forest, it still has a fairly important habitat in the form of the saltmarsh. Just to get the definition in place early, a saltmarsh is essentially what it sounds like: a vegetation-dominated coastal biome with salt and brackish water, salt-tolerant grasses and plants, and the animals that depend on such. They're coastline preservers, trapping and binding sediment as it makes its way to and from the ocean, and acting as a major supply for the food web along the coasts. They're incredibly important habitats, and this will not be (and have not been) the last time you've seen them during the State Birds Initiative.

Now, obviously, these habitats are chockful of birds. New Jersey has a few major salt flats along its coast, all of which shelter some major breeding populations of birds. One of these species is the Clapper Rail (Rallus crepitans), which is our eBird-sponsored pick of this poll. Clapper Rails have 13% of their global population in New Jersey saltmarshes, meaning they're quite dependent on this unique habitat, and most of their population breeds in the state. Some people may never have seen or heard of a rail, but in case you're one of those people, just know that they're a smaller semi-aquatic relative of cranes. If you've seen a coot, moorhen, or gallinule, then you've seen a rail! And the Clapper Rail is a crustacean-eating, saltmarsh-loving, new Jersey-dependent example. And that said...it is kinda boring looking to the average person.

Don't take me wrong! For me, this bird is fantastic, and would actually be a lifer for me, personally. But the average non-birder? Look, in instances like this, I usually tap into the part of my brain my fiancee lives in rent-free, and all I can hear is her shouting "LONG DUCK LONG DUCK" over and over. I love these guys, but I'm not sure they'd resonate with the public. Plus, as far as saltmarshes go, these are good representatives, but I'm not sure they're the best. Are these a good New Jersey representative? Possibly, since they represent a major ecosystem in the state, and that is important. But I'll leave that question to you all. Moving on!

Cape May Warbler (Setophaga tigrina)

OK, onto the category of birds that are named after the state, and New Jersey has one of those! The Cape May Warbler (Setophaga tigrina) is so-named because the first specimen described by Alexander Wilson was collected in Cape May, New Jersey by George Ord. That said, it's certainly a unique warbler, easily recognizable, and dependent upon conifer forests dominated by spruce, which the Pine Barrens are...not. Still, an iconic bird in New Jersey! Except...wait, hold on...ah. It doesn't breed in the state. In fact, after it was described from a Cape May specimen, it wasn't seen in the area again for...a century. So...yeah, it's named after a major location in the state, known for birds at that, and yet it's barely found there?Love this bird, but...maybe think about renaming it one of these days.

Pine Warbler (Setophaga pinus)

Now, the Pine Warbler (Setophaga pinus), on the other hand, that's a better warbler representative of New Jersey. Well, sort of. To be fair, the Pine Warbler only has 1% of its global breeding population in New Jersey, so the state isn't a bastion or reservoir for the species. However, there is a major reservoir of the species in the New Jersey Pine Barrens, which I'd mentioned earlier. And hey, Pine Barrens, Pine Warbler...slam dunk for representation of the habitat right there. And yeah, that's absolutely relevant to the species as a whole. They live, eat, and breed in pine-dominated forests, exactly like (and including) the Pine Barrens. It's actually listed as a "Significant Congregation" species by the New Jersey Audubon Society.

And as for making a good State Bird of New Jersey? It's a notable bird, even keeping the goldfinch's yellow with white wing bars. It's not terribly difficult to find, especially during the breeding season in areas like the Pine Barrens. And hey, they're even well-known to live with other species, making them an important biodiversity indicator for conservation purposes. Plus, if people go out to look for the Pine Warbler in the wild, they'll likely encounter other species like the Blackburnian Warbler (Setophaga fusca) or the Tennessee Warbler (Leiothlypis peregrina), amongst others. Fostering interest in birdwatching by chance! It works in a conservation sense...but I don't know that it's particularly emblematic of New Jersey, to be fair.

Northern Harrier (Circus hudsonicus)

Now, here's an interesting choice! If the current State Bird, the American Goldfinch, was chosen because it was the mascot for the New Jersey Audubon Society at the time, then by that logic, their current mascot should actually be the State Bird of New Jersey. And so, in that case, may I present to you the current mascot of the NJ Audubon Scoiety, and the next candidate for State Bird...the...is that a Northern Harrier (Circus hudsonicus)? Yeah, looks like it, and some sources I have confirm that's the case. But, uh...why?

Let me be really clear about something first off: I adore the Northern Harrier. Also caleld the marsh hawk, they're a beautiful raptor native to brackish and salt mashes, as well as grasslands and fields, hunting small mammals, insects, and the occasional bird. They're one of the few accipiters that are silent fliers, ambushing prey from above like owls. They even have the disc-like face. They're one of the new North American raptors with sexual dimorphism (the smoky gray male is pictured above, as compared to the brown females), and their iconic coloration has given them the nickname of the Gray Ghost. WHICH IS BADASS. They're also one of the only polygynous raptors, meaning a male can mate with several females in a given season, nesting on the ground and hatching chicks. Because of their unique relationships, some indigenous peoples see them as a symbol of healthy marriage. Finally, these are considered good for agriculture, as they eat rodents and not chicken. I love harriers, they're super neat birds, and it's always a pleasure to see them in the wild. Also, they DROWN THEIR PREY!!! What the hell! That's terrifying!

OK, harriers are cool, but do they have a relevance to New Jersey outside of being the logo of New jersey Audubon? Well...they do breed there...barely. But they've been observed doing so, so that counts. They represent key habitats in the state of New Jersey, so that's great. Their certainly charismatic enough (GRAY GHOST), and they've got nationwide conservation concern as an endangered species. So, it has those qualities going for it as the State Bird candidate. We'll see what the poll says. In the meantime, let's move on!

Laughing Gull (Leucophaeus atricilla)

Y'know, my original plan was to put the Ring-billed Gull (Larus delawarensis) in this list as well...and then, I stumbled upon a fun fact. The black-headed cousin of the Ring-billed Gull, and Laughing Gull, is a regular traveler to New Jersey, and in fact has a colony right off of the Jersey Shore, making them a fairly well-known and recognizable resident of an iconic area of the state. But pretty importantly, the species has a pretty massive breeding population in New Jersey. 5% of the breeding population of the species are in southern NJ, which isn’t the bulwark of their breeding population in the USA (that'd be Louisiana, according the eBird Status and Trends), but it's still a significant portion.

That said, the Laughing Gull is a recognizable member of the New Jersey shore community, and I mean the term "community" in multiple contexts. Ecologically, they're omnivorous scavengers that are well-adapted to living in a densely populated state, as well as in saltmarshes and other coastal environments throughout New Jersey. Sociologically, they hang around human settlements so much that they see opportunities in human hands...literally. The Laughing Gulls of the Jersey Shore are pretty notorious for stealing food out of the hands of beachgoers and boardwalk visitors. There are even boardwalk restaurants with signs saying they won't offer refunds if your food is stolen by a gull. They're SO notorious, in fact, that falconers have been hired to use their falcons to drive away these birds. And honestly...that's a shame. After all, the Laughing Gulls are such prominent citizens that humans have had to adjust to them.

But that said...I'm gonna quote Brian Donahue, the reporter at the end of the video/new report I linked to above...because it's hilarious, and it makes an interesting statement that I think people from New Jersey should think about. Read the quote, but trust that I have a somewhat well-thought out idea supporting it.

Derided as "flying rats" by many, I think it's time to reconsider the Laughing Gull, because if things haters say about Laughing Gulls (they're loud, feisty, there's too many of them... (Interviewee Kathy McCarey): They're rude...they're very demanding...and they come for what they want...I don't like 'em.) ...are the same things haters often say about New Jerseyans. Laughing Gulls are us. They deserve more respect.

Look, as extremely funny as that point is...there's a point about that statement. That is something that people say about New Jerseyans! They live in a state full of garbage, they're obnoxious and loud, all of that kinds thing. And New Jerseyans love their state as much as anybody else; SO MUCH, in fact, that many people online say they actually love that stereotype, because it means that people STAY OUT OF THEIR STATE. Funny or not, true or not...there's a point there. Laughing Gulls, as with all gulls, have a bad reputation, which is mostly undeserved. They're opportunists trying to feed themselves and their young, who see a smorgasbord of food right in front of them, in their neighborhood! In their place, what would YOU do? Honestly, these guys are a solid contender for that reason alone.

Plus, honestly...it's kinda funny.

Saltmarsh Sparrow (Ammospiza caudacuta)

Finally, let's look at the conservation focus for this post: the Saltmarsh Sparrow (Ammospiza caudacuta). So, this is a pretty big one, especially when looking at New Jersey. A full 32% of the species' global population breeds in this state, which is, frankly, a MASSIVE proportion of any species. What's more, they're considered an endangered species, which immediately makes this an impressive contender for the State Bird of New Jersey. And as one of the most endangered species in the Eastern USA, not to mention a species of immense scientific interest for ecological and genomic reasons, this bird should get some attention by the public and federal government.

However...and this is a point to be made here...it's not exactly the most iconic bird for non-birders. As a birder who would kill to get this on his lifelist (I AM WORKING ON IT, LITERALLY TOMORROW AS I AM TYPING THIS), this is a prominent bird within certain communities. And to others? Ugh, this is gonna hurt me to say, you have no idea, but...it's a sparrow. It may be a little harder for people to become attached to a sparrow, and even more difficult for people to recognize the Saltmarsh Sparrow specifically.

Don't believe that this matters? Do me a favor, bird people. Show your non-bird friends Bird A, Bird B, and Bird C. Ask them how many different species you showed them. I'm willing to bet the especially observant will say 2. The less observant are gonna say 1. And throw in these top two pictures, while you're at it. I'm willing to bet you'll still get a 2 or 3. Because, unfortunately, to many people, sparrows all look pretty similar. And going forward, that's something we'll have to keep in mind: a unique appearance. What makes a bird iconic is also in its uniqueness and identifiability. And sure, maybe I'm not giving the average person enough credit, but we're also talking about children. I've said it before and I'll say it many times over: kids are important targets to consider when choosing natural State Symbols. And I really don't know how many adults could tell the difference between some sparrows, even professionals. And, uh...the Saltmarsh Sparrow is a very important example of this, because it wasn't even a species until the '90s.

Oh, and kudos to those of you who caught on immediately to my little trick up there. Probably a good amount of you noticed it, but if you didn't...there are five species of sparrows shown in this post. The two birds pictured in the post? Different species. Yeah, hearing that now makes that more obvious, but you may not have noticed it immediately. The first bird pictured is indeed the Saltmarsh Sparrow. The second bird, however, is the Nelson's Sparrow (Ammospiza nelsoni), which was once considered the same species as the Saltmarsh Sparrow. Dirty question, I know, but it's also found in New Jersey. Not a breeder there, but it's enough to cause a bit of confusion. See what I mean?

Oh, as for the rest, Bird A is LeConte's Sparrow (Ammospiza leconteii), Bird B is a Savannah Sparrow (Passerculus sandwichensis), and Bird C is a Grasshopper Sparrow (Ammodramus savannarum).

Please understand, bird-peeps: I hate making this argument. Genuinely. The New World sparrows are a wonderful group, and a really fun one to play around with and hunt down as a birder. And don't worry, sparrows will be getting a mention in my personal list. But as for the State Bird? I'll let you all decide.

And with that, that's the end of this post! I miss any big ones? Make any leaps a bit too big? Feel free to let me know! In the meantime, stay tuned for State #4 - Georgia! Wait...wait, the fourth state to be admitted into the Union was Georgia? Huh. Go figure.

See you next time, and happy birding!

[millerscoffee]

soft spot for trouble | hbf!javi

lit a cigarette and gave it a kiss.

6.3k | javier peña x f!reader

masterlist

rating: 18+ MDNI

warnings: dub-con: drunk sex, honey this is all S-M-U-T, husband's best friend, infidelity, dirty talk, oral (f and m receiving), fingering, squirting, piv (protected), brat tamer!javi, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, size kink, praise kink, this is just so horny, smoking (lots of it soz, and shotgunning cigarette smoke – OOPS). no use of y/n.

summary: javier peña is back from colombia and decides to spend some time with you and your husband, his best friend since college. after telling a story you know nothing about, an argument ensues between you and your husband, and you get drunk... both on whiskey, and on javi.

A/N: what can i say, i'm just the worst for narcos's very own javier peña and there's nothing you can do. enjoy!!!!! || [when you click keep reading you don't see the chalkboard i have stashed away stating "i will not make this a series" over and over 🤭]

"Bebita, I know your husband. He's not exactly notorious for making women cum. When was the last time he even went down on you?" Your cheeks absolutely flush at the tone of his voice, the truths he's spilling from his lips. Truths so intimate, you hadn't even told Gabbie about them. You swallow a knot in your throat. "Not saying it's me who should do that for you," finishing off his statements and drink Javi stands up, slipping on his leather jacket. "I'm saying I could." Stepping closer, he bends down to catch your ear. Goosebumps litter your skin as he whispers: "Could make you forget all about tonight." And you very much would like to forget all about tonight.

"Okay – okay! Would you have a threesome?" Your best friend is reading these conversation cards you got her some birthday ago, and you can hear her partner and your husband laugh amongst themselves.

A dinner party is going on at your house, and you and your husband have invited your best friend, Gabrielle, and her partner, Kris. Along with them there's your husband's best friend, Javier.

He was meant to bring a date, but for reasons that were more mumbled out of his mouth than spoken outright, they aren't here.

You're all sat around the dining room table with after dinner drinks and a game everyone agreed would be a fun way to end the night.

"Oh, gosh!" You laugh with Gabbie, both of you shaking your heads in anticipation of what would be said next.

"You gonna tell her or should I, pendejo?" Javi refers to your husband, a cigarette hanging from his lips.

The one you explicitly told him to smoke outside. You heard your husband, Julian, veto the request as you left, allowing the DEA to do what he wanted.

Julian undermining what you wanted... again.

"Tell me what?" You raise your brow, wafting smoke from your face dramatically as if to say, I told you not to do this. Javi doesn't seem to pay it much attention.

"Me and this guy...," in fact he points to your husband with the cigarette, flicking ash into the tray. You blink in annoyance.

"No! You didn't!" You gasp. Your mind races at the thought of them taking someone back to their dorm in college. You curb the ache that tempts your middle at thought of Javier and Julian sharing a woman between the two of them.

But that excitement is fleeting when a more sinister, grueling feeling creeps up your stomach.

"You're right. We didn't. Well, I didn't. I just played wingman. Julian here isn't as much of a saint as you thought." Javi says this to make you laugh, but it does the opposite.

Your eyes catch Julian's who now is looking at anywhere else but you. Knowing damn well before the two of you got married, this man prodded and practically bullied sexual information out of you.

Said it was only fair to know each other's pasts before making such a big commitment.

Within a sentence, a simple – stupid – game, the perception of your husband could shift before your very eyes. Your jaw ticks forward and you take a long, contemplative sip of wine.

"O-kay, let's just put these away," Kris muses, taking the cards in her hands.

"No, let's keep going," you antagonise. Your eyes become dull, tongue sharpening by the second. "I think Julian has a story to tell. It's good to know who you're married to."

You remember the way Julian said those very words to you while he was digging your own history of who you've slept with. Like a secret call directly to him... in front of everyone.

You can see Peña shifting in his seat out of your periphery.

"Well, it was in college," Julian speaks now after shooting the rest of his bourbon. His body language involving everyone in the story, but he finally has the courage to look at you. Somehow that hurts worse.

"There were these two girls at the bar we used to go to, and–"

That's when the tear spills over your cheek.

"Alright, I think she's heard enough." Javi's voice is low to Julian and your head snaps in the direction of him like a vulture who's making a meal of something dead.

"You don't get to decide that."

It's only when Gabbie whispers your name do you take heed. "I think we should leave you two to talk about this."

The guests in your home pack up their things until it's you and Julian. "I'm sorry, Jul–"

"Peña just go, man."

Javi nods sadly at your husband, his hand touching your shoulder as he slips out. He's the last one to go, and as the door closes it feels symbolic.

It's silent for a long time.

You go between wanting to cry, wanting to scream, wanting clarity.

Since your own husband didn't bother to give that to you.

"I never cared," you let out an uneven sigh, searching over your husband's features.

He looks defensive, annoyed and it's totally misplaced. You should be the annoyed one. You are the one who got betrayed.

"It never bothered me to tell you my partners. I agreed with you, even. That we should be open and honest to have a better relationship–"

"You really think you're in the position to be on a high horse when you fuck Javier with your eyes?"

It's deflective. A defense mechanism to take the heat off of himself, and unfortunately, it works. Your mouth is left agape.

"What the fuck do you mean?"

"I mean," he begins, tilting his glass to where Javi sat, "whenever this guy is over, I don't exist."

"This guy, is your best friend. Someone you've known way longer than you've known me. Excuse me for being hospitable."

"There's hospitality, then there's throwing yourself at the first man who walks through the door. It's embarrassing."

His words make you feel small for the first time in your relationship.

It causes a crack, irreparable in nature, and you feel a shift.

Because you don't cry, it makes you angry. Puts you back on track as to why you were having this conversation in the first place.

"Embarrassing?" You stand, wine glass in hand, "Embarrassing?! You just confessed something you knew would make me irate in front of our very best friends. Something personal that I should have known in private. You lied to me and you admitted it in front of people we care about. Made me look like a goddamn fool! Don't tell me about being embarrassed, you don't know the first fucking thing. Fuck you, Julian!"

You could throw the wine glass, but you decide to slam it down instead. Grabbing your purse, keys, and jacket to escape without letting him finish his thought. Door slammed. You've heard enough.

Mature. But you were pissed off, and you knew staying in a house that you made a home together wouldn't solve anything.

Maybe getting some fresh air would help.

Maybe walking to the bar in town would be even more helpful.

Your thoughts were swirling, clouding your judgement on the walk in, sneakers on. Your pleated white skirt brushes above your knees that paired with the black top that made your breasts look concealed more than shown off.

As if the forest green bomber jacket didn't help in making you look modest.

What the fuck did Julian know?! You weren't throwing yourself at anybody.

Because you were not thinking about Javi with his shirt off moments before the truth was told, and he did not infiltrate your dreams occasionally with sexual undertones.

It couldn't happen, and it was not happening.

You had been to this bar a few times before. It's dimly lit, a variety of music pumps through the speakers. There's plumes of smoke, and there's something about it that feels safer than when you experienced it in your home. Like a part of you enjoyed it.

Studying the room, you discover Javier Peña on a barstool, staring into his glass of whiskey. You knew Peña to play dirty, but there's something about the way he's contemplating – or at least looks like he's contemplating – that gives off remorse.

"Didn't know you could do that," you kid, taking a seat beside him. Your eyes scan over his jeans, the buttons undone from his red shirt. The way his chest and neck and NO – no!

"Oh, hey," and his dreamy crooked smile, puppy eyes. Jesus Christ, you needed a drink and fast. "Didn't know I could do what?"

"Think." You try to cheer him up, but it doesn't seem to work. You both keep doing that to each other tonight.

Instead, Javi huffs out a fake laugh through his nose and downs the rest of the amber liquid. His eyebrows flash quickly, showing hints of regret, "You're tellin' me."

"Hey," your say lowly, eyes softening at the signs of his guilt. It feels different from your husband's accusatory behaviour.

It makes you feel like Javi actually cared that he hurt you, or at least hurt his friend. You can see him run his tongue atop of his teeth through his lips when he looks at you. It makes his jaw jut out, strong and chiseled, and you fail at averting your gaze.

"You didn't know that I didn't know. It's not your fault. For either party." You reach out to touch the top of Javi's hand in a friendly manner, and you catch a glimpse of your wedding ring.

A twinge of guilt hits your gut, and you pull away from the warmth as soon as you land.

"You really didn't know?" Javi peers over to you before finding eyes of the bartender, holding up the number 'two' with his fingers.

"Not only did I not know, he insisted on knowing every person that I've ever slept with, where they live, and how many times. Yes you heard that correctly," you nod a thank you to both the bartender and Javi before taking your drink.

Whiskey's not typically your first choice, but it's like he knew you needed something stronger. It's not a typical night.

The alcohol feels good on your tongue, as if it washed away what you just said.

You conveniently leave out what your husband threw at you about Peña before you left. Tonight was awkward enough already.

"Mierda, what a fucking idiot." Javi snickers in disbelief, shaking his head.

"Yeah, I think you taught him some interrogation skills you didn't warn me about." You don't mean for that to come off so flirty, but you see Javier's face change minisculely and it makes your thighs to squeeze together.

"Didn't know I had to look out for you, cariño," he says, charm dripping from every syllable. He offers you a cigarette and it's hilarious, really – him handing this to you after telling him time and time again not to do it in your house.

Even more hilarious that you take it from him. He seems a little surprised by that.

You press the stick between your teeth when Javi has his lighter ready. Pour your stare into his as he starts your cigarette. Allow the inhale to sting your lungs.

You're very composed about it all, really. Really.

Exhaling the air from the side of your mouth, away from his face, you shrug slightly. "I guess you know now." Your words not making complete sense as you dizzy from nicotine, alcohol, and deception.

"Two women...," you trail off, focusing on the neon lights of the bar that create reflections on the shiny, hardwood floor. "Can barely satisfy one." You weren't saying it to chide Julian, you mostly said to to yourself, but of course nothing goes unnoticed with Peña, and he chokes a laugh.

It feels nice to hear a light sound in the midst of something so heavy that you can't help but partake in it, too. The two of you chuckling and you shake your head, taking another drag of the cigarette.

"Well, here's to the ones who can," Javi lifts his glass, and you do the same, just barely picking up what he's hinting while you down the rest of drink. Head swimming now.

The two of you sit in conversation as the piles of people in your town fill seats for a good ten minutes. Most of them know the both of you, and that keeps you on track. You abandon the butt of your cigarette in an ashtray that has at least three of Javi's since he arrived.

Kept on track because the more you drink, the more you realise you want to act on your impulses. Want to go against the things you were keeping yourself from thinking. To make some of those dreams come true.

"You know what your fuckin' problem is?" Javi starts, and it makes your blood boil. Breaks you out of your reverie.

"Maybe start that sentence off differently."

"No," he's quick to reply. So quick you don't notice you fold your own argument. "You're too uptight, that's your problem." he shrugs casually and you shove his shoulder lightly.

"Making it worse, Peña."

Javi brings his hand up to tap his index and middle finger at to the side of your head lightly.

"You're operating too much from here," his arm sweeps down, those two same fingers brushing against your panties from underneath your skirt. You jump back in your seat, gasping in response.

"Need to operate from here."

And there it is. It would seem out of place if it were anyone else but Javier Fucking Peña. Known for debaucherous ways. Known for his vices.

"W-what... what are you doing?" You stare wide, not quite sure you even felt what you did. It happened so fast that when you look around, no one saw a thing.

It wasn't as much of a record-scratch stop to them as it was to you.

You notice that you don't tell him to stop. And so does he.

"Bebita, I know your husband. He's not exactly notorious for making women cum. When was the last time he even went down on you?" Your cheeks absolutely flush at the tone of his voice, the truths he's spilling from his lips. Truths so intimate, you hadn't even told Gabbie about them. You swallow a knot in your throat.

"Not saying it's me who should do that for you," finishing off his statements and drink Javi stands up, slipping on his leather jacket. "I'm saying I could." Stepping closer, he bends down to catch your ear. Goosebumps litter your skin as he whispers: "Could make you forget all about tonight."

And you very much would like to forget all about tonight.

It's only when you stand do you notice how drunk you are. Not completely wasted, but not sober enough to make decisions with your brain. Exactly how Javi wants you. The walk to Javi's apartment is remembered in jolly splices.

---

Your mouth greets the shoulder of Javi's jacket playfully while he unlocks his door. You detect his aftershave in mix with the cigarettes, alcohol, and leather.

A whine escapes you and slick gathers in your panties, even more from the bar if that were possible. Especially when your noises and eagerness pull a baritone laugh from him, "Tranquilo, tigre."

He says that, but as soon as you've crossed the threshold of his door he has you against the other side of it. Fingers playing in your hair. Ever the gentleman, sliding off your jacket to put it... on the ground. Great. You like that jacket!

But you're just as careful and kind to his things as you tug on his belt. Your fingers playing with the brown leather and metal and finally, finally your mouths touch.

A sweet moan, high in octave and breathy, eases out of your throat and it's met with the gravel of his groan in the pit of his own. He feels and tastes nothing like your husband which makes it much easier to forget him.

Truthfully, he hadn't been in your mind since fresh air hit your face on the walk to Javi's.

Smoke, alcohol, and the faint likeness of gum moves over your tongue while your hands multitask in untucking his shirt from his jeans.

"That fuckin' easy?" He quips, but his breath as shaky as yours. Large hands palming the smushed shape of your breasts from the modest top, and it produces a whimper in the middle of your panting.

"It's that fucking easy, Peña. Could've been doing this a long fuckin' time, now." Your hands eclipse his, pushing them further into your tits in effort to obscenely massage them.

This stirs a groan from his lips. In awe of how in control you are like this. How it's different from the woman allowing her requests to be denied in her own home.

Javi disobeyed you on purpose at your house earlier, so maybe you could get it through your thick fucking skull that this is what you really needed.

To watch your desires bubble to the surface, and moreover to let them have space here. He wants you to act on them.

Taking your chin between his fingers, he rolls over the bone. Moustache twitching in a smirk, "Javi, baby."

To say you're wet now is an understatement. Your clit tingles with anticipation, thighs shaking without even being touched.

"Javi," you say it back to him, but it comes out more like a moan. A catalyst for a messy kiss, all tongue and teeth and brushing of his facial hair against the top of your lips while he towers above you. Palm flat against the door above your head.

Somewhere between that and undoing each button on his shirt, you end up in the kitchen – bent over the island. Pouting at not getting the chance to see him shirtless fully.

You shiver against the granite, claw at the edges of furniture for something to land on. To find purchase. A cheek is pinned against the cool texture and you choke a breath the second you feel air flow against your ass. Your skirt riding up just for Javi to view.

"Motherfucker," you hear Javi behind you. The tone amused, saturated in desire. That's when you get your first taste of relief.

The edge of his index finger runs between your legs, rubbing the obvious wet spot of your panties. Your folds, even through the fabric, wrap around the length of his finger from how deeply he's pressing against you.

It flicks a flame in the pit of your stomach and causes more hunger than relief. Your pores open from how hot it's making you.

"You get this wet for him?" Javi's simple question evokes a mewl you've never heard come from yourself. Your hips lift back and roll in need.

"No... no. J-just you, Javi. Just you."

"Just me," he repeats, head tipping to the side as he examines you.

How easy it is for you to handover claim of your cunt. It's instantaneous, him pulling your undies down. Wasting no more time in what the two of you came here to do.

The pad of his thumb collects your slick between your folds. From the top of your hole all the way to your clit at the bottom from how you're positioned, and you bite your lip hard. Cheeks flushed while your ass peeks out from your skirt.

"Is that because this is mine?"

You confidently say Julian has never talked to you like this. You don't think you've ever been addressed like this in your life.

Never been made to feel special in this way, or that your body was someone's because they wanted you. Not because they wanted to have some icky claim of you.

Even more, you don't feel guilty. Not yet, anyway. There's no time for it. No time to pretend from what you've wanted from the very moment this man, whose warmth now radiates behind you, entered the picture.

"It's yours," you say in a rush as your torso drapes and digs into the side Javi's kitchen island. Makes you think you'd say this even in a sober state. "It's all yours, Javi!"

"What's mine?" He's deliberate and torturous, and his voice alone could make you cum. Your ass pushes back languidly, giving him a good view to curse at under his breath, of your cunt and the velvet of your asshole.

"Me, Javi. I'm yours. Everything." Hot tears swell over your cheeks from how horny and desperate you feel. Like if you don't get him now, you could combust.

"Javi!" you gasp, rutting against the outline of his hard cock in his jeans when he grinds against you without warning.

"Get used to fuckin' saying that," he cautions, and it's cocky, but unlike all the other broken promises you've been given, he's true to his word.

Because he pulls away from you, and you're now his ragdoll – putting you wherever he wants. Hoisting you up on the kitchen island, and it feels cold against the heat pooling at your core.

Javi watches as you bring your bare feet onto the counter, leaning back on your hands, and spread your legs apart like he's being called for dinner. And, fuck, that's exactly what he wants.

Because as soon as you do that, as soon as he sees just how wet and pink you are at the core for him, he can't say no to you.

Not that he was ever planning on it.

"That's it, that's fucking it. Jesus fucking Christ."

You get a good view of Javi's chest all the way down to his stomach and jeans in their disheveled state from this point of view. The bulge of his cock difficult to hide in pants that tight, and you are grateful for it.

You shiver at a mixture of the view of him and the air against your soaked skin.

Your cheeks and lips are painted crimson when he pulls up a seat. He wasn't kidding. He was planning on eating you out, going down on you like you were his own personal meal – as if his eyes devouring you weren't enough.

Your manicured nailed comb his hair back once you get the chance to reach him. Feeling exposed, throbbing by the time you feel the smooth skin of his cheek proceed the inside of your thigh. He takes you in, marveling at the way your cunt pulses and clenches over nothing. Fluid floods right from the source. The way your clit peeks out from its hood, just enough that his teeth could brush against it.

It makes his mouth water, and yours too now that you think about it. Pressing slow, teasing kisses on your thighs you sigh in frustration and alleviation. You can't help but wriggle your hips up towards him. "Please," you whimper, and that makes Javi's eyes grow even darker if you could believe it.

"Please what?"

"Javi, please eat me out!"

He doesn't miss a beat. Using his nose and face to breach your folds apart, to take a mess even further, Javi digs in. His tongue flattens against your slick and your sounds are immediate. It's all too sensitive, too unfamiliar for you to fully register how to feel.

He was right when he called your husband out at the bar. Julian made sure you came, but it was rarely with his mouth. Most of the time you were left rubbing yourself off during sex.

So to have someone, to have Javi – your husband's best fucking friend, between your legs. Servicing you with the sluttiest smile on his face, you can't help but slump back on the counter.

To be under his stare is almost too much. Perfect and needy for you. You slip your eyes shut from the intensity.

"Eyes on me, princesa," Javi rolls off his tongue easily, the tip of it digging right underneath the hood of your clit. Making you gasp, eyes wide, popping back open to meet his gorgeous features.

"Did my pussy like that?" He hums in satisfaction, wrapping his mouth around the all-too sensitized nub before mercilessly sucking it.

This leaves you with your mouth hanging open, your eyes crossing as they roll into the back of your head. The same head that's now reclining in sheer ecstasy.

But Javi's quick to make his point as he goes off of you and replaces his sucking with a harsh slap to your cunt. It makes you spring up, makes you pay attention. You pout and writhe at his power over you.

"I said fucking eyes on me. Don't you dare think about anyone else."

"I-I," you try, you really try to say something, but you can't. It feels too good, and you're too drunk to understand you can't use your words right now.

So you comply, watch him as best as you can. Your mouth split open, eyebrows knit together. And he's kind in the way he goes right back – sucking on your clit like it's his fucking job.

Like he hasn't eaten in weeks, and you're sitting at his kitchen counter, on display.

Not using your brain to think, but using your pussy.

"JustyouJavi," you manage. It's slurred, but you manage it because while he's sucking on your nerves, he's rolling the edge of his tongue against it too. Methodical circles, a tempo to die for. Doesn't switch it up, or make awkward transitions. It's just right.

It's inevitable, screaming his name. Feeling your toes curl, the heels of your feet grind into Javi's shoulders. Damn near pornographic in the way you keen your mantra of: yeah, yeah, yeah. The ache explodes into an uncontrollable fit of passion as you gush all over Javi's mouth.

But as he pulls back, you see that it's not just his mouth that's coated. His cheeks, chin, nose. You're spilling down his neck. And he smiles at you like a blood-soaked lion polishing off its prey.

"I know what you can do, princesa," the sentence has far too many words for you to understand what's happening during your comedown, so that's why it happens as a surprise when you feel Javi's two fingers prod against your cunt.

Standing from his chair now, he pushes it back with his heel. Hand in a loose fist around your neck as he makes you watch what he's doing to you. "Don't fucking blink," he grits, and it makes you want him to tighten his grip. To be possessive while he fucks you.

Your head is slightly angled down while he starts. Eyes looking up, mouth wet but not as wet as Javi's and it makes you come apart to watch his skin glisten still from you. Index and middle fingers press inside your wet hole. His wet hole.

"Fuck!" You exclaim, slipping your top lip above the bottom, you open easily for him to plunge deeper, his fingers curling up with no trouble at all in finding that spongy spot of pleasure right at the tips of them. Your eyes gloss from how overwhelming it feels, the repetitions.

"You can squirt for me, baby." His echoes have you in a trance, but that request makes you nervous. "I've... I don't know how...," you manage the words and he massages your insides in a way that makes you discern you're being primed for something.

"You can do it," Javi leans down, and the encouragement makes your mind reel at how simple words can create such an affect on you.

"Pull my cock out and slip those pretty lips around it, hermosa. You'll forget about anything else."

A part of you isn't ready. To see his cock would mean that things were progressing, and if they were in a standstill you could soak up this moment for longer. But the way you can hear your cunt slosh in between thrusts has you curious if he actually could make you do this.

You look down first. See the bulge more prominent and close in his boxers from his unbuttoned jeans. Eager to break out, you pull the fabric down enough to send the leaking head of his cock to slap against his abdomen before it springs out in front of you to tease.

"Holy fuck," the moment before the freefall, your body becomes alert of the sheer size of him. It was even better than the dreams of you getting railed by him from behind.

You can't help but take a moment to appreciate this. To brush your face sluttily against the warmth of his cock. Your lips teasing him until the precum lands on your tongue and your jaw instantly burns from how sore it is to be open like that.

Saliva falls on your shirt, not yet found the time to take it off.

He tasted heavenly, your hand cups his balls while his moves from your throat to the back of your head.

And it's delicious to watch his face. The way his jaw relaxed open before grinding it back shut, exhaling sharply through his nose. Javi tests your gag reflexes then, gripping the back of your head and sending the shaft of his cock down your throat.

"Mierda," he falters in keeping both rhythms from how hot your wet mouth is. "Knew you could handle my cock, baby, but fuck."

Between the sounds of you gargling him and the squelching of your pussy he is relentless in using, your body is distracted and slack enough for him to pull out of you.

"Ay dios mio, bebita. That's fucking it, there you go." The way he's nodding, proud and spasming in your mouth has you cumming again. This this time clear liquid sprays from you when he tugs his skilled fingers from you and you vibrate such moans from Javi's cock he has to pull out to stop himself from cumming, too.

A wail replaces your moans as the sound of your voice is more prominent in the space. "Javi!" You can't help that you're crying obscenely now, tears flowing from the intensity and the treatment he'd been giving your throat. Mascara running down your cheeks.

---

"Good fucking girl, bonita." You don't realise it straight away from you cum-drunken stooper, but he's picked you up now. Showing you how strong his lean frame is by carrying you to his bed. Tossing you onto the mattress like it's nothing.

"All of this off. Now." Yes, sir. You bob your head yes frantically, knowing how fucked you must look. Mascara running, your panties... somewhere. Your skirt soaked from a new trick Javi just taught you.

You catch a glimpse of the man who did this to you, equally a mess. His hair in all directions, neck red as beads of sweat tempt his broad shoulders, and fuck, he was naked now. You don't mean to, but you drool – this time without a cock in your mouth – too fucked to notice, or care.

"Take a fuckin' picture, baby." Javi softens his knees to curve down at your ear, "Off. Last warning."

You begin to wonder what he would do if you didn't do as he said.

"And if I don't?" You challenge, a lascivious grin crosses your face and you raise a brow.

Mistake. Big mistake.

Because that makes Javi's grin fade. Ripples a new sense of foreboding into the air when he takes your skirt off just as easily and swiftly as he did your undies, but the skirt isn't unzipped so it bursts from the force and you yelp at the sensation.

"Javi, you broke my skirt!" You whine. Naked from the waist down he ogles you before tutting his teeth sarcastically.

"It really bothers me, hermosa," Your shirt is slung overhead and abandoned somewhere on the floor.

"Good girls don't talk back."

You can tell he's drinking you in from the moment he stands back, but he's pulling away more and more until you don't feel his warmth anymore and you realise the error you've made.

"W-wait... come-come back!" Your words dejected, giving him doe eyes as he mimics them way better than you could.

"Bad girls get punished. Rub your clit, get yourself off." It drives a pathetic sound from your mouth before you plead to him.

"Please, no. Please – Javi, Javi please. I'll be good. Please, Javi!" Sitting up, you beg him, undo the sheer bra so your tits pop out from it. Both of you bare in his bedroom.

You can see that makes his cock undoubtedly ache.

"Oh, querida. You're gonna have to do better than that." Arms crossed, he watches as you part your sticky legs, exposing your folds to him again and he hums in approval.

"Let me see how you do it."

You're so deep in it with him, it feels like you've been doing this regularly. How he knows your body, helps you discover little things you didn't even know you were into.

It relieves you to let out wanton moans, your fingers spanning your slick, opening yourself up on cue. Fingers roll, pinch, glide your clit in a hypnotic motion.

It sends you close to the edge, but you can't quite find it with the prospect of Javi inside you.

You keep staring at his cock.

The way precum collects at the head, the girth of him. You could only imagine how deep he would be. Unsure if you could take him all.

"I need you, Javi. Javi, please. Please give me your cock. I'm sorry, I wanna be your good girl!" Torture rocks your throat, and right before you force a dull orgasm from yourself Javi takes your wrist, pushing it away from your core.

"We have to use a condom, baby." It's his way of telling you yes, and you sit up zealously, understanding and willing to do whatever it takes.

Because in reality, he's right, and that almost causes you to stop. Like those dreams you have where you wake up and instantly flock to your husband. Overcompensating.

But this wasn't one of those dreams, and you wanted this so badly it stung.

Javi goes to his nightstand, slicking lube on his cock before sheathing it in the rubber protectant. You certainly don't feel upset that you have to use it, but it leaves you curious what his skin feels like slipped inside of you.

Already coveting his presence before it even began.

But that's the thing, there's no slipping here. When he comes around to make sure you're both lubricated enough for the barrier, you see just how fat his cock is as it bulges from the condom.

Your legs unfurl, chin lining forward as you watch him. Javi keeps you on your back for now, draping your legs over his shoulders. No, he doesn't slide inside of you, he stretches you to such completion your body pulses repeatedly, coming completely undone.

It almost feels too much at first, this position – as deep as it was, but the way you're groaning has you both believing you can take it. Just in time for your sex to push him out of you.

Your muscles all too tight, beginning to worry he's too big.

But that doesn't stop you.

"Mierda, you need it that fucking bad, bebita?" His words make you weak. Because immediately you go between your legs, inviting him back into the innermost part of you without him needing to do it himself.

Javi's lips crash against yours, taking time in burying himself all the way to the hilt. But he doesn't move a muscle.

He stays there, admiring above you. The way your mouth parts, nipples becoming alive at the sensation. "Eres hermosa," more of a mumble, his lips brush and decorate the inside of your calves. The tip of his nose slightly bending against the skin.

It starts to become unbearable, your hips shifting up, but you find it is working. That your muscles relax and are able to take. "I can take it," you incline, not noticing you're heaving shallow breaths until the words leave you in pieces.

"Can you?" Javi asks condescending, thumbprint teasing the split of your clit, rasping at the way you convulse your whole body from contact.

He can't take it anymore, your hold is too strong over him. Javi, compelled to fuck you, drives his cock in, proprietorial in its approach.

You're almost oversensitive, unsure of the statement you just announced because you find yourself swallowing hard, your throat dry. Fingernails claw at his forearms as his large paws grip your waist for leverage. Your pelvis bucking up because like his fingers before, his length is hitting your g-spot and it's too much – you have to screw your eyes.

But Javi doesn't reprimand you for it this time. Instead he hovers over you, sending your ass off of the bed and him deeper than ever before. Right against your cervix now. Causing your mandible to unhinge, pitiful sounds expel your lungs. It's just too good.

"You can take it, baby," Lustful words right there at your ear, you beg in way that makes you want more.

You stroke his hair, tugging the strands – scratching his scalp. His body mercilessly colliding with yours. All sweat and skin, balls eager to tap against the curve of your ass, and all of those sounds fill the room. The sounds of your sex.

"Javi, please. Tell me." It's magic, he doesn't hold it against you that you're not being completely direct. He's understanding, and wants this for you again. The gears connecting that you need to be talked and fucked through it.

"Tell you what, cariño? How I want you to cum for me?" His glistening covered brow presses against yours, hairs stick to both of your foreheads. "How I make this pussy feel so perfect you have to explain why you're limping tomorrow?"

Fuck, you're a mewling, writhing mess.

"Let go for me, ángel," his dark, pleading eyes invite you to jump over the edge, "That's it. That's fucking it, baby. Cum for me."

Your skin trembles like a live wire. He's pulling another orgasm out of you and you don't even know where it's coming from or how he could get you to do it again. But you are. It shows up in your fingers curling, your thighs fluttering until streams of your sex leak from around his cock in your climax.

You're speechless. Moans come from you, yes, but you're so fucked out there's no words that could be put together to describe how fucked you really are.

Your legs fall on either side of Javi's waist, and there's a moment of cognition as your hand reaches to touch Javi's face. "You are so handsome," it slips out before you can stop it, but you don't want it to. Your thumb finds the divot at his bottom lip. Recall the way he tastes of you now. The tops of your fingers stroke his clean shaven cheek.

A face so hauntingly beautiful for a human up to no good. You knew snippets of his past, but his pout nudging against your palm tells you more than any story. Lets you know exactly who he is. You knew the truth.

"Get on your back, honey." You encourage, coaxing his cock out of you – still hard and dying for release.

Surprisingly, he does what he's told, unable to stop himself from kissing your cheek and you swallow down words.

No need to complicate things further.

So you climb on top of him instead. "Shit, cariño. Look at you." That makes you blush, his warm and strong palm splays on top of your breast to brush a digit over your nipple and you shiver. Tentatively, you take him back in and make an oomph sound. He somehow feels deeper like this.

You're intentional in the roll of your hips, but the pace is far too slow for Javi. He needs you, needs the chase of something. "Let me," he grits, pulling your chest onto his and pins your arms behind you in his own bear hug.

The way he digs his heels into the mattress to fuck you, to use you to get himself off is borderline degrading but his quiet praises against your skin has you lit up again in ways you don't anticipate. He slaps your ass hard enough to leave a mark before petting where you connect. This leaves your sticky sweetness to cover his lap in no time.

"Hermosa, h-hermosa," his voice staggers at the shell of your ear, hips erratic while it feels like he's fucking you into oblivion. "So fucking good for my cock, pretty girl."

You have orgasmed so many times now it feels automatic when it happens again, but this time you take note of his arms tightening around you. A hand in your hair. "Just like that, just– fuck. Take it." It almost sounds like a resignation, but his waist pounds you both into another wave of pleasure until he emptied inside of you, filling the condom.

You both stay still. Spent. Relaxed. Eyes bleary, the two of you collapse into assuage.

A pile of shuddering, panting limbs tangle together in the wake of something devious and beautiful.

"Pretty, pretty girl." You hear him say into the top of your head. The hint of affection aches at your heart.

It's then you become acutely aware of how tight your wedding band feels around your ring finger.

---

Javi lights a cigarette in the middle of your afterglow, and it's intimate, him sharing it with you. You hold it, sobriety taking your head, and it frightens you when you don't pull away from him as you begin to think more clearly.

In fact, you roll onto your stomach. Body half-slung onto his, your tits pushed together perfectly as you sit up your elbows.

Taking the cigarette between your lips, you inhale, leaning to him as you push the smoke to billow into his mouth. He exhales the rest through his nose and your tongue tastes the plush lips in front of you because, fuck, it might be the last time you can.

"What do we do?" You ask after a while. It's quiet, and you give the stick back to him by dangling it between his lips.

"I was gonna ask you the same thing." His words muffled by it, he takes a drag before leaving it to burn between his fingers. He puffs the smoke away from you. "You stay with him, bebita. You work it out. And when you need to be fucked, you call me. When he's being a cabrón, you call me. I'll make you forget about him."

Your survey the curtains in his room, the blue glow of dawn tempting to bring another day forward. You don't like his idea, but that doesn't make it wrong.

"You mean you don't want to run away together?" You joke, your eyes conveying, no really it's a joke. I swear. And he runs his fingers across your cheek to pinch it lightly, lips pressing together when he shakes his head 'no'.

"You know we can't do that."

The words bring Julian back to life. Shows his existence in a way that doesn't make you want to push him away. Through the love Javi has for him.

Despite it all, love. A common goal the two of you have for the man who is probably worried sick over you.

Just before guilt tempts to wrap its vengeful claws around your throat, Javi stops it in its tracks.

"You took what you wanted. That's all."

You nod compliantly, not willing to argue in order to savour the moment. Your head brushes against his chest and you close your eyes. If only to capture this feeling a little while longer.

You allow his words to integrate, and swallow down the antagonist of his statement: that there was more you wanted. You were certain the chase of this, the irrevocable quench from throes you shared with Javier, would not just die down.

Terrible that you didn't want it to. You would take what you wanted.

[onlymingyus]

things Seventeen do between someone's thighs

this is just for fun -- some of the ideas will be a bit silly and poking fun at the members but all of them will be smutty. thank you to @onlyseokmins for dealing with my nonsense.

cw; oral (mostly f receiving), fingering, sulking, bad jokes, and fuck boy attitudes.

also, no tag list because I am just not in the best headspace and don't feel like going through the effort, I apologize.

Seungcheol

This man isn't there to play...most of the time, but he can get a bit cocky. He'd be three fingers deep, his tongue working hard when he'd get a cramp in his hand. You wouldn't know what was happening when your orgasm was pulled away from you only to find a sulky Cheol between your thighs pouting at his hand.

"I went too hard..."

"My poor baby...want me to kiss it better?"

He'd just nod and hold up his wet fingers, his pout covering a smile as he got you to kiss his fingers dripping with your own arousal.

Jeonghan

Jeonghan would love being between your thighs but he's going to be the absolute worst when it comes to giving you what you want when you want it. All the baby talk against your thighs, his mouth running over your legs, stomach, even right over your folds but never giving in until you are almost crying. Then when you beg him for it he'd be faux exasperated that you were, sighing at you, running his tongue between your soaked folds between speaking.

"You could have just told me what you wanted."

You'd spend most of your time wanting to strangle the man with your thighs.

Joshua

Good luck getting him between your thighs in the first place. Slow and steady wins the race.

"There's no rush, love. We have all the time in the world."

It's not that he doesn't want to pleasure you. It's not that he doesn't want you. This man is just into delayed gratification. He wants to be a son-in-law one day and in your bed at the same time.

He'll make you scream his name on your wedding night and then good luck getting him from between your thighs.

Jun

So good at oral and such a freak in a good way. Loves to try new things but is also such a dork. Would be in the middle of making you orgasm and would stop only to look up at you with a goofy smile on his face only to say;

"Mmm, cum here often?"

Hoshi

There isn't much to say about what this man would do. You probably already know.

He is going to growl into your pussy.

I am so sorry.

Wonwoo

There are some nights you are shaking with pleasure from how good Wonwoo is making you feel with his tongue and fingers. Other nights you are wanting to smack the shit out of him with the book he laid on your stomach while his fingers scissor into you.

"Well, I really wanted to do both. You can't be mad at me for wanting both things, can you?"

Jihoon

The biggest issue with Jihoon is finding him and getting him to take a break. So you are having to come to terms with the fact that you aren't getting his tongue between your thighs in a bed anytime soon. You are either on his couch in his studio, laid over his desk, or on a piece of gym equipment.

At the end of the day he's so fucking good at it, can you really complain that much?

Dokyeom

Loves to talk and is so loud even while eating you out. Your fingers run through his hair, tugging trying to keep his mouth flush with your pussy but something comes to his mind and Dokyeom hums against your folds pulling back to take a breath.

"Oh, baby did I tell you that I saw a really cute dog today? I almost decided to steal it. I mean clearly, I didn't because that is wrong and I don't steal things, especially animals but I really wanted to because---"

A loud muffled groan would escape his lips as you sigh loudly his tongue diving back into your leaking entrance, his fingers digging into your thighs as he appreciates your taste. You love him but god, he loves to talk.

Mingyu

He's got game. He knows he's good at eating you out. He's made you cum so many times on his tongue it's ridiculous but when you glance down at him and he literally winks at you from between your thighs you can't help but close your thighs around his head making him whine and pout against your pussy.

Mingyu's hands grope at your thighs as you roll your eyes finally letting him move and get a full breath as he pouts at you fully.

"I had such a good groove. Why did you do that? Not that getting suffocated by your thighs isn't in my top ten ways to go..."

Another muffled whine leaves the man's mouth when you close your thighs followed by a muffled laugh. Mingyu nibbles at your thighs until you let him loose so he can pout at you again.

"I'm not dating a fuck boy. Don't wink at me from between my thighs while you are eating me out."

"Aww, but I'm cute..."

"God, you are really trying to be suffocated tonight."

"Top ten ways to go...I told you."

Minghao

You would have to remind the man you aren't an art project multiple times a night. Cum is not an art material Xu Minghao.

He'd spend so much time using his fingers to make you cum so he could drag his fingers along your thighs creating patterns only to lick them clean. Listening to you whine and whimper for him to fuck you, but clearly, he is busy...he is painting his canvas.

Seungkwan

Going down on you doesn't have to be a competition but it is for Seungkwan and he is in that competition with himself. How long did it take to make you cum? 3 minutes? Last time it was 5. He can do better.

Vernon

You didn't know your thighs needed nicknames but Vernon needed a reason to slide between Laverne and Shirley to make himself comfortable for the night.

Chan

He would need to be reminded that his face is in fact not a seat or a throne. Especially since he doesn't need to say it in front of friends or family.

He would forget where he was depending on his mood and what you were wearing. You'd see the look in his eye and the next thing you'd know Chan's hand would be on your hip.

"Fuck...I need you on my face."

Your face hot, and you'd look at your friends who would be trying to hide their laughter. By this time they should be used to it but it's still interesting to hear about your bedroom habits so openly.

"How bout we talk about it when we get home, Chan?"

Looking around, he'd only get shy for a moment before he'd look at you again and shake his head.

"Then let's go home. Your throne is getting cold and lonely."

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

How about reader, who is a seasoned gamer, invites Gaz to play something like Valorant or Fortnite etc. She says "dw it took me a while to get good too" but he picks it up stupid quick. He spends the rest of the time enjoying winding her up more than the actual game.

absolutely absolutely. gaz can and should get away with everything.

1,833 words / lucky number 13

...

"Gaz... you know most people play video games to escape their responsibilities."

"So you've told me." Gaz's voice crackles over your headset.

You're staring at your screen, watching as he confirms his character selection in the game's lobby. "You're absolutely sure you want to play tank?" you ask him.

He locks in his character, and it appears in the pregame lobby: a bald-headed, square-jawed guy with a muscular build and heavy armor.

"Positive. You're playing healer, aren't you?"

"Yeah."

"Then I'm playing tank. Pocket me."

"You've never even played this game. We'll both get obliterated."

"Come on. How hard can it be? Shoot, use ability, reset. I take the damage; you heal me; I dish it back out; we win; you thank me for carrying you as always. It's just like our usual game."

"Repeat that last one. I think your mic cut out on account of the bullshit."

"You don't think I can keep the heat off you?"

"I don't need you to keep the heat off me. I just want you to have fun and not die in the first five seconds of the round," you tell him. He did buy this game specifically to play it with you. After a totally reasonable amount of prodding on your part. It's been your go-to for weeks.

"Then pocket me and I won't die. I'm not having fun if I'm not in the thick of it. You know me."

"Fine. For one game."

"Bet," Gaz says, sounding smug about it. "I'm not gonna disappoint."

During that first game, he's getting his bearings. But he takes to it rather intuitively, especially with your help over voice chat. His tactical skills are whip-sharp as always. As you pocket him, you focus your character's abilities on keeping Gaz alive. But you switch to upping his damage output when you realize he's holding down a choke point by himself, taking on enemies and laying out a field of fire for your team. It's impressive, considering this is his first time playing the game.

When an enemy sneaks up on you, his pocket healer, he disposes of them with slightly more prejudice.

"You're pretty good at this," you tell him, scanning the results screen. "I mean, maybe mid-tier if you were on your own."

"Mid-tier?" he says, a little affronted. "It's called being adaptable. Not that you'd know. Hundreds of hours in this game and you're mid-tier support at best."

You cross your arms, leaning back in your computer chair. "Because I don't play support. You know what? I'm switching to DPS. See what you carry without me patching your ass up every ten seconds."

Back in the lobby, you select your main. Gaz eyes the character with a bit of respect. "A rogue, huh? You must think you're pretty good. Gonna need a lot more healing."

"Only if I get hit."

"I could sponge that damage right up for you. Keep you nice and safe."

You scoff. "Won't need it."

"Let's see."

In the next round, you weave in and out of combat, gleefully dodging attacks and landing devastating blows before you disappear. Your bread and butter. Meanwhile, Gaz does--at worst--an admirable job tanking. Still, when you look back and see enemies surrounding him, it's clear he could use an assist.

You double back and flank two of the enemies on him, picking them both off one by one. But before you can gloat, his voice in your headset interrupts you.

"Good kills, baby."

That's not the reaction you wanted. It immediately ticks you off. "I know."

He chuckles and takes down another enemy. He's tunneling in on the fight now that you've got him back on his feet, but clearly he still has time to talk to you. "Can't take a compliment."

The face that he's purposely pushing your buttons just irritates you more.

The next few games, he makes himself indispensable as a tank. It should be a good thing, but he keeps getting in your way specifically. You'd swear it's on purpose. He tanks hits for you and then acts like you'd lose the game without him. His cockiness is insufferable. Worse--you can't ignore how deftly he's scaling the difficulty curve here. He's holding the attention of the enemy players, keeping them away from you while you deal the damage. And you'd never admit it, but the way he's holding aggro is saving your ass.

You shouldn't need him to do that, though. You tell yourself the only reason you're not playing better is because he's forcing you to maneuver around him.

Then he offs the enemy rogue right as you're finishing her off. You swear into the mic. "Gaz, come on! You stole my kill."

"I'm giving my little rogue the help she needs. Besides, you know it's not about getting the most kills. It's about the team's collective score," he teases, and you have to remind yourself it's just a game.

It's like he can tell exactly what to do to piss you off in record time after that. Bossing you around, telling you to take this point or make that kill. He even pipes up once to remind you it'd be a good time to use your ult. You open your mouth to tell him it's not ready yet, but to your chagrin, you glance down and realize it is. Somehow he's keeping track? Unreal.

You're a little impressed about that one, but you'd never tell him. In your defense, he's distracting you with all this banter and teasing. He's making it hard to focus.

"No backseat gaming," you tell him.

"Wouldn't have to backseat game if you played better."

"I would be playing better if you weren't crowding me!" You sigh out your nose. "You're only doing this to get a rise out of me. Micromanaging me. I swear you get off on it."

"You're giving me too many opportunities to obsess over you." He sounds smirky.

The way he says it makes something in your lower stomach flip. You lose focus for half a second--long enough for the enemy rogue to slip past Gaz and smack you.

Gaz slams into her with his shield to stun her, then spins around and uses his special to deal more damage. That last hit downs her. You don't even have a chance to react.

His voice in your headset is smug still. "Like I said."

"Fine. Thanks."

"You can thank me by not dying again."

After the game, you sit back in your chair, arms crossed. "You sure talk a lot of shit."

"Am I?" You hear him grinning. "I hoped you'd give me a little more attitude than that."

"Oh, I know. You're not subtle."

"Neither are you. You get riled up so easy."

"You want me to fight you? Because it sounds like you'd rather me just roll over and bite the damn curb."

"No, you want that. You're a masochist."

"Thank you."

"It isn't a compliment."

"I know. Keep bullying me," you snark into your mic.

It's hard to resist teasing you when you say stuff like that. "Okay," he says, his tone turning playful. He leans back, crosses his legs, and situates himself in his chair. The game's results screen idles on his monitor, forgotten. "You've gotta stop making it so easy for me, though."

"I get that a lot."

"I'm sure you do, sweetheart."

"Ooh, are we doing condescension now?"

"I've been condescending to you since minute one. I can turn it up if it's not obvious enough."

"Keep going and I'll get off."

"Off voice chat, you mean?"

You smirk. "No."

He smiles, rolling his shoulders back. "I can absolutely be more condescending to you if that's what your incompetent little heart desires."

You laugh. "You were just waiting to bring that one out, weren't you?"

"I've got several of them tucked away just in case you got mouthy, But let's be honest--you're always mouthy."

"You're one to talk. You talked hella trash that last match."

"Only because I had to pull your ass out of the line of fire all the time. If you were better, I wouldn't have to. You're giving me ammunition, here."

"I just think it's telling that you play tank."

"Are you saying I'm compensating for something?"

"You said it. Not me."

He rolls his eyes, smirking. "You want to talk about projecting? You're the masochist, and you play a rogue? The one class known for being fragile? You're putting a target on your own back. What does that say about you?"

"Better than a tank main," you quip.

"I'm taking all the hits so you can DPS your way to getting play of the game. Makes me sound proper generous."

You examine your nails. "Makes you sound like a control freak."

"Why don't you look me in the eye and say that? Turn on your cam."

Your grin widens. "Gaz, please. If I turned my webcam on every time some guy online asked me to, I'd never have time to play."

He leans forward, lowering his voice. "Who says I'm kidding? Come on, baby. Give me eye contact. Look me in the eye and tell me I'm a control freak."

"Nope." You know he hates that you're not budging.

"Why? Aren't you decent?"

"More like I have Cheeto dust all over my hands."

"Doubt that."

"It's true."

"Come on. Prove it."

"See? Control freak."

"Fine, I'm a control freak--withyou. But you like it, don't you?"

"Oh, I love when you order me around. I love knowing exactly what you want me to do so I can avoid doing it forever."

He sits back in his chair and stares through his screen. It's not like he's never seen your face before. You've posted a selfie or two in shared chats. But he's never seen you cozied up in your pajamas. Or in a cute little robe. Or maybe a big t-shirt, the soft kind. Like he wears.

Yeah, he's realizing he's down bad. Worse than he thought.

"You wanna make the next round more interesting, then?" he asks.

You arch a brow, propping your sock-covered feet up on your desk. "Like how?"

"You lose, you turn on your camera, obviously."

You snicker. "I don't know what you think I get up to on a Friday night, but you're gonna be sorely disappointed." You pop another Cheeto in your mouth, knowing he'll hear it crunch.

Gaz laces his fingers behind his head. "I've already curbed my expectations. Bet you're sitting around in sweats and a hoodie with some anime character on it." Not that the thought of that isn't appealing. He suspects you don't let many people see you that way.

"You're... uh..." You look down at what you're wearing. "Not far off, actually."

"I know, baby. I've seen your Discord handle."

"So what if I win?"

"Then I won't tell anyone how hard you got stomped these last few rounds. And trust me, I'd be telling everyone. It's embarrassing how much of a load you were. Don't take that the wrong way, though--by all means, just sit there looking cute while I carry this next game."

"Oh, you're on."

Gaz grins, leaning forward. "Yeah, we'll see how cocky you are when I put you back in your place."

You pull your chair back up to your desk, hands poised over your mouse and keyboard. "Promises, promises."

Gaz readies up, too. "Don't worry, baby. I'll keep my word. But once I humble you, you're gonna regret ever doubting me."

...

more Gaz / masterlist tag