#the idea that if you ramble means you don't care or want to listen is kind of

[dxringred]

i still don’t understand the claim that robin didn’t ramble around vickie because she likes her and wanted to listen to her and/or likes her enough that she feels comfortable around her. for one thing, if A. was the case, why is that not what happened at the rally? and if B. was the case, how come she still had a slight tendency to ramble around nancy even after spending more time with her than she ever did vickie? 

like... this is only the second time she’s been around vickie? (third if you really want to count the scene where vickie’s sucking face with her boyfriend, but i’d call that reaching.) am i really supposed to believe robin is completely chill and comfortable with her crush that quickly? because i don’t.

and the argument about robin not doing it because she wants to listen feels really... disrespectful? rude? (i don’t know the adjective i’m looking for) with regards to real people who have a tendency to ramble, either due to having a crush or because they’re autistic etc. because rambling isn’t always something you can control? like, it just happens lol, and sometimes you don’t even realize you’re doing it until someone stops you. 

so to be like, “oh, robin didn’t ramble because she cares and wanted to listen,” almost sounds like, “oh, if you ramble, that means you don’t care and don’t want to listen.” at least, to me, anyway. also she literally still rambles around steve lmao, and i think you’ll be hard-pressed to convince most people that robin doesn’t care about him.

anyway, all this to say that i personally got the vibe that she realized vickie isn’t the one for her and/or isn’t the person she thought she was, as is often the case when people get to know their crushes. seeing her snogging her boyfriend put things into perspective for robin, and listening to her at the charity drive (or w/e) kind of solidified for her that, okay, vickie’s nice, but it turns out she isn’t actually what i’m looking for. 

[showmethestarlight]

So I think my thoughts on The Tortured Poets Department are that I'm a little conflicted. I think it is a good album, the sound is a bit Midnights and folklore and evermore, which is a bit messy but it kind of works. I think it's more of a matter of which kind of albums you prefer for where it falls in your rankings but the albums that are mostly slow songs that stay at the same level/tempo aren't my favourites so this isn't my highest (I love Speak Now for example for songs like Haunted) but I still had a good time listening and I still had a few I liked a lot on the album. I liked the sound and storytelling of But Daddy I love Him, I think Florence and Taylor's voices are really good together on Florida!!! I liked My Boy Only Breaks His Favourite Toys, and I loved the dark and deep atmospheric feeling of Who's Afraid of Little Old Me? And I thought Clara Bow got its message across really well. There are some songs I'm confused by and I think I'll need some time with to understand like Fortnight and Fresh out the Slammer and some odd little lyrics here and there that I think maybe could have been cut because they just felt out of place or unnecessary. And I just don't think I'll ever be much of a fan of Guilty as Sin? I think I like Cassandra but at the moment it feels too much like mad woman. I think those are all my thoughts so far, I probably need a few more listens to process everything.

[javiscigarette]

Teacher's Pet

Joel Miller x virgin f!reader

Summary: 25 years old, anxiety-ridden, and still a virgin, you ask your friend Joel for advice on your upcoming date. But you're more of a...hands-on learner. And he's more than happy to help. 

Warnings: PWP, unbalanced power dynamics, virgin!reader, neighbor/bff/more experienced! Joel, age gap, first kiss, virginity loss, fingering, oral (f receiving), frequent check-ins, soo much banter and Joel is a menace also so soft and sweet :')....(ends on a cliffhanger but there will be a part two I swear).

w/c: 7.7k idk what happened

a/n: I am resurfacing for your monthly reminder that I do in fact still write!! Inspiration for this came out of literally nowhere but I took it and RAN with it and I think I like it?? As always, thank you to my baby love @undrthelights for helping me with this and always listening to my rambling and for being my biggest enabler Ilysm

Part Two

my masterlist

"Fine! What if, hypothetically speaking of course, you were to, hypothetically, give me a, um, hypothetical, lesson or whatever." Your heart is pounding so hard you can feel your pulse throb in your neck pound in your ears. You slowly drag your hands away from your face and look at him. He stares right back at you, brows furrowed. "A what?" "Forget it. forget I said anything,” you mutter, shaking your head.  "No no wait, hang on, what do you mean? A lesson? Like a…a sex lesson?” 

"Seriously, Joel. Fuck off" you snap but with no bite or heat behind it. You bring the sweating bottle of beer to your lips and finish the rest of the now lukewarm liquid off in one gulp. 

"What? I just find it hard to believe that you've never even had a kiss. Didn't you go to high school? Didn't you ever get invited to a party? Didn't you go to college? College kids do the do like all the time” 

"Clearly not all the time" you mutter, a tad bitterly.

Joel raises his hands defensively and takes a sip of his own beer. "Just seems crazy is all. There's gotta be some chick or dude out there willing to take pity on you and pop your cherry."

You audibly gag at his choice of words. "I don't need a pity fuck, thanks." You stand from the couch and head over to the fridge. The bottles of cold alcohol inside are calling your name and you want something that will help soothe your nerves. You're not a big drinker, but when Joel is prying into your love life like he is now, you wish you were.

"Okay,” he starts from the living room. “Maybe I worded that wrong. What I meant to say was, there's gotta be someone out there who would be more than willing to show you a good time."

You groan and let your forehead fall against the fridge door. "That's the whole point! I came here to get advice for my date, someone who might actually be interested in me, and all you've done is make fun of me for not having fucked anyone yet. So thanks, Joel. You're a real pal."

You push away from the fridge and slam the door shut, a second beer in hand.

"Alright, alright, calm down." He says, hands in the air as if you were holding him at gunpoint as you head back to the couch. "Look, if this guy really likes you then he's not gonna care. Probably won't even be able to tell if you are or aren't."

"You think so?" You ask hopefully.

"Well, I mean, unless you're like... super bad."

Your heart drops into your stomach and you glare at him, "Joel."

"Oh come on, I'm kidding. You're not gonna be bad, okay? Just, go into it with an open mind and just relax. If he tries something you're not comfortable with or makes you feel weird, tell him. And if he gets pissy, dump his ass."

"That simple, huh?" You scoff.

"Well, yeah. You're the one who made it complicated by thinking it was a big deal."

"It is a big deal, Joel! I know nothing!

"Nothing? You ain’t ever watched porn? Jesus, I had no idea you were such a prude."

You can't stop yourself from rolling your eyes and slapping the back of your hand against his arm. He yelps and laughs, rubbing his arm.

"I've watched porn before" you retort. 

"What kind?" he asks with a wiggle of his brows.

"None of your fucking business" you respond, feeling your face heat up.

Joel's lips quirk into a shit-eating grin and you're quick to smack him again.

"Okay okay, sorry!" he says through his laughter. "So what exactly are you afraid of?"

You're not really sure how to answer. It's a combination of so many things, most of which are irrational fears and insecurities. Sure you've seen it all done before, but you're well aware that none of it is realistic. At least, not completely. And just the fact that you're freshly 25 years old without a single notch in your bedpost makes you dizzy with anxiety. It's not like you're saving yourself or anything, it's just that hook up culture has never agreed with you and there's never been an opportunity that made you feel like it was the right one. That is until now, with your cute coworker who you thought was miles out of your league asking you out on a third date. And now, the prospect of being in bed with him is looming over you like a dark cloud and the last thing you want to do is mess it up.

"I guess, I'm just afraid that he's gonna be disappointed, or I'm gonna weird him out, or I'm gonna do something wrong and embarrass myself.” Joel nods along and listens. "And if it is bad then we still have to work with each other and then what if it's awkward and everyone knows about it and then he hates me and--"

"Okay, whoa slow down there, buddy" Joel says, putting a hand on your shoulder. "One, you're overthinking this. You're literally thinking like, five steps ahead of what's actually going on. It's a date. And even if it does end up in the bedroom, you don't have to do anything you don't want to. No one's forcing you, okay? He can't. No one can."

"I know, but I want to," you reply quietly.

"Alright. Then do."

"I don't know howwww!! " you whine, flopping backwards into the couch.

Joel groans and sits up a little straighter, scrubbing a hand down his face. 

"Well, there's no magic trick, I don't have a secret sex manual I'm holding out on ya."

You sigh, shoulders sagging as you look over at him. The idea comes out of nowhere, well, not exactly from nowhere, but it pops in your head so fast that you then have to bite your tongue before the words bubbling up from your throat come tumbling out. 

It's not a bad idea, not necessarily. 

You've been good friends with Joel ever since you moved in next door last year. An unlikely pairing, a 40 year old contractor and an almost 25 year old office worker. But after offering him a six pack as part of introducing yourself to the neighbors, you'd gotten along fabulously. He fixes things around your house and you send him home with hot dinners and warm, gooey cookies and you watch movies together almost every Friday night.

 It's an easy friendship, open and honest and supportive, and Joel has never given you reason not to trust him. He's a good guy, if not a little brash, but you know deep down he means well. And it doesn't hurt that he's objectively attractive, with his tall and sturdy frame, strong, calloused hands, dark messy curls....It's not a bad idea.

It's an absolutely insane idea. 

You continue to stare at him, clenching your teeth together to hold back the question sitting on the tip of your tongue.

"What?" he says, looking back at you.

"Nothing" you mutter, eyes flicking away.

"You've got that face you make when you're about to say something really stupid, so just get it out."

You glare at him again, not enjoying the way he can read you so well.

"I wasn't gonna say anything."

"Well now you're lying."

"I'm not."

"You're doing it again!"

"Doing what?!"

"That face!"

"I'm not making a face!"

"Yes you are! Just spit it out!"

You groan and hide your face in your hands. You blame it on the one beer even though you know you’re not anywhere close to being drunk because how else would you justify what you’re about to say? You wait a moment, thinking about the weight of it but your mouth opens before you can stop yourself. 

"Fine! What if, hypothetically speaking of course, you were to, hypothetically, give me a, um, hypothetical, lesson or whatever."

Your heart is pounding so hard you can feel your pulse throb in your neck and hear it in your ears. You slowly drag your hands away from your face and look at him. He stares right back at you, brows furrowed.

"A what?"

"Forget it. forget I said anything,” you mutter, shaking your head. 

"No no wait, hang on, what do you mean? A lesson? Like a…a sex lesson?” 

His eyes are wide, and he looks incredulous. You can't blame him, because the more time that passes between your suggestion and now, the more ridiculous the idea seems.

"I’m sorry, that was…It was stupid. Pretend I didn't say anything. Let's just watch a movie." You move to grab the remote, but Joel's hand covers yours, stopping you.

"Is that what you want?"

You look at him, searching his expression for any sign of disgust or apprehension. But all you can see is the same Joel you've known for months, patient, warm, and understanding.

"I know. I know it's stupid. But I can't get this date out of my head, Joel. It's all I can think about and the more I do, the more worried I get and I just don't want to fuck it up. And I know we're friends and this is weird and gross, but I just thought that... maybe, I could have some practice, so to speak."

He doesn't say anything. Just keeps looking at you, the panic rising in your chest the longer the silence stretches. You start to fidget, wringing your hands together in your lap.

"I'm sorry, that was way out of line" you say, moving to stand up, your skin sweaty and hot with embarrassment and your feet ready to run out the door and never come back. 

But Joel catches your wrist, gently pulling you back down to sit next to him.

"Joel" you whine, not wanting him to humiliate you any further.

"It's okay, come here."

His voice is softer than before, and his eyes are kind. You let him pull you closer, the two of you sitting knee to knee. You can't bring yourself to look him in the eyes, not with your cheeks and the tips of your ears burning like they are, but Joel doesn't push. He simply moves his hand from your wrist, sliding it into yours. His palms are rough and warm, and the simple touch alone is comforting.

"You really wanna do this?” he asks softly. You can feel his eyes boring into you. “I mean, I'm not exactly a prize winning catch. And it's not like there's a shortage of willing men out there."

You shrug and chew the inside of your lip.

"Yeah, but you're my friend and I...I trust you."

There's another pause, and you wish that you could just disappear into the couch and erase this moment from your memory.

"How drunk are you?" he asks, glancing at the beer bottle on the coffee table.

"You saw me finish one bottle. And half of another. I’m barely tipsy."

"Not drunk?”

"Nope."

"You're gonna remember this tomorrow."

"Uh huh."

"And you still want to?"

You groan for the millionth time and squeeze his hand.

"Yes I want to! Look, if you don't want to then that's fine. It was just a dumb suggestion and we can just forget this ever happened."

He hums, considering your words. His hand slips out of yours, and you think that's it, you've scared him off and washed the friendship down the drain. That you'll have to hide from him from now on, that you'll have to pack your things up and move because the mortification would be too much, and that he'll hate you, and—

His two fingers sliding under chin surprise you, and he tilts your head up. He's looking down at you with that same even expression, eyes big, soft, and warm as he slides his hand over to cup your jaw in his palm. 

"If you want to stop at any point, just say so, okay? I won't be upset and we can go back to the way things were before. Got it?"

You nod, your throat suddenly too tight to speak. His thumb sweeps over your cheekbone, the tender touch is enough to make your heart skip a beat. There’s no way this is actually happening. That your first kiss is going to be with your 40 year old menace of a neighbor. That you’re going to, how did you put it, get a sex lesson from him. His gaze flicks down to your lips and back up to your eyes and you’re positive you’re no longer able to breathe. 

"Can I kiss you?" he asks softly. You nod. 

You're sure he can hear the thumping of your heart in his own ears as he leans down. His other hand comes to rest on your hip and when his lips touch yours, a soft, tentative pressure, you're not prepared for the electricity that shoots through you.

He's barely done anything and already you feel like you're floating. Your own hands reach out to clutch his shirt, keeping him close, afraid he'll pull away and leave you cold and wanting if you don't. But he stays put, pressing himself against you, his lips working gently against yours. You follow his lead, kissing him back while trying not to overthink it.

It's nothing like the kisses in the movies or the books, where fireworks explode behind your eyelids or where your foot pops up in the air. It's far more subdued, more quiet and subtle. But the warmth that pools low in your belly and the goosebumps that erupt on your skin when his tongue slides against the seam of your lips, light and quick, makes you absolutely melt. 

He pulls back before you can really react, and you're left with a dizzying rush of both blistering desire and excruciating anxiety. You want to pull him back in and never let him go. But your heart is beating so fast you can hardly breathe, your nerves are buzzing, and the urge to run and hide is nearly paralyzing. 

"Was it bad?" you ask tentatively, cheeks heated.

"No" he replies, giving your hip a squeeze as a smirk plays on his lips. "It was fucking awful. Worst kiss of my life"

"Shut up!" you hiss, pushing him away with a hand on his chest. He laughs, the sound easing some of the tension in your body. 

"I'm just teasing" he says, voice dropping lower. "C'mere, we can work on it."

His lips find yours again, and you try not to smile into the kiss but it's hard when you can feel the way his lips are quirked up as well. It doesn’t take much else to get you to relax and let yourself fall into the moment, into the gentle press of his mouth and the warm hands on your hip and your cheek. He swipes his tongue against your lips again, his fingers pressing lightly into the hinge of your jaw to tilt your head back and coax your lips apart.

You let him, sighing as his tongue glides across yours, hot and smooth and sweet. Your hands slide up his chest, finding purchase around his shoulders, and when you move forward, pushing yourself against him, he grunts softly but lets you. He kisses you until the both of you are gasping for air, and when he pulls back, his lips are wet and red and you're certain yours must be as well.

"Better?" you ask, a bit breathless.

"Getting there" he answers with, his breath warm where it fans across your cheek. 

"You're such a liar" you say with a goofy smile.

"Yeah, I know. Now try again, practice makes perfect.” 

You roll your eyes but lean back in nonetheless. It's a bit more heated this time, the feeling of his teeth nibbling on your bottom lip making you squirm. His hand rounds over your hip, palm smoothing to the small of your back to pull you closer, the heat of his body radiating through your clothes and warming your skin. Your hands move on their own accord, no thought behind the action as they slide up to his shoulders and then his neck, your fingers finding home in the curls at the base of his skull. When you give them a slight tug, you're rewarded with a muffled grunt from Joel. Emboldened, you pull back, lips swollen and tingling.

"You’re a good kisser,” you pant. "Is that something people usually say?"

"When it’s true" he says, grinning at you. "And since I know you're gonna ask, I'd say that was a C+, maybe a B-."

You scoff but blush furiously at the smile he flashes, his eyes crinkling in the corners.

"Well then, tell me what to do next. What do I need to know?"

Joel hums as he thinks for a moment. 

"What do you want to do?"

You stare at him for a second, blinking.

"I don't know, that's why I'm asking you" you say, shaking your head a bit.

"Well, how far do you want to take this?"

You swallow hard, suddenly feeling very shy. You can’t deny that when the idea popped in your head it was accompanied by the mental image of you naked, spread out on his bed, but the actual act of asking him, or better yet, actually doing it is... intimidating to say the least. Are you really about to let him go all the way, to see you bare and vulnerable, let him pop your cherry as he would disgustingly put it? All just to “prepare” for a date with a guy who might not even like you that way?

Yeah, probably.

"All the way" you answer. “I want to go all the way” 

He doesn’t pounce on you like you expected, doesn’t press his lips against yours in a frenzied kiss that you had half hoped for. Instead, he simply looks at you, his brown eyes boring into yours, searching.

"Are you sure? You can always say no and you're not gonna lose me as a friend if this isn’t what you actually want. I don’t want you thinking that."

You can't help the laugh that bubbles up and slips out, because of course Joel, your kind, thoughtful Joel, would say that. He's a good man. A great one, even.

"Yes, I'm sure. But if you don't want to, I get it, I can just leave and-"

Joel laughs, the sound traveling up from deep in his chest, the rumble vibrating against you.

"Sweetheart, I wouldn't be doin’ this if I didn't want to. Just makin’ sure this is what you really want."

"I want it.” 

He squeezes your hip and swipes a thumb over your cheekbone once again. 

“Alright then.” He nods, firm and resolute, and then looks around the room. “ We’re not doing it here, though. If you're getting the full Joel Miller experience, we're gonna do it right.” 

Your eyes roll reflexively, but your heart picks up its pace regardless.

"I’m not gonna do anything if you call it that ever again."

"Fine, fine,” he relents. “Let me show you what a good, thorough fucking feels like. Better?"

Your jaw drops, and he's laughing at you, his body shaking with amusement.

"Fuck you" you grumble, shoving him away while trying to hide your coy smile. 

"Yeah, that's what I'm hoping for," he says with a wide, self-assured grin.

"I'm leaving" you declare with a false sense of offense as you rise to your feet. Joel is quick to do the same and before you can take a single step away, he slips a finger through the belt loop of your jeans and tugs you back into him, wrapping an arm around your waist.

"I’ll stop, I’ll stop. I'm sorry" he says, not sounding it one bit.

You huff, but let him pull you closer until you’re pressed against his chest and you have to tilt your head back to look at him.

"I’ll be good. I promise."

"Liar"

"Well, yeah. But I can promise that I'll make you feel good."

You can't help the giggle that spills out and he kisses it away, his lips warm and plush and sweet against yours. The hand not resting on your lower back comes up, curling around the nape of your neck and keeping you close. You sink into him, and the fog creeps in again, dulling the rest of the world, making it seem fuzzy and distant, like the memory of a dream. All you can focus on is him, the warm solid weight of him against you, the strong arms holding you, the way his mouth moves against yours. And then he’s pulling back all too soon and you have to stifle a whine.

"Come on" he says, tugging at your hand.

His bedroom is dim, the little lamp on his nightstand and the faint glow of the moon through the curtains providing the only light. You swallow and take a deep breath as you step inside, your bare toes digging into the plush carpet, his hand warm and large where it grips yours.

He holds onto you as he sits on the edge of the bed. You step forward, letting him pull you between his knees. His hands settle on your hips, and you can feel their heat through the fabric of your shirt.

He doesn’t ask if you're sure again and you’re grateful because you’re not sure if you could form any kind of response right now. Instead, he slides his hands up and under your shirt, fingers dancing across your skin and leaving a trail of goosebumps. Your breath hitches as his hands smooth over your ribs and around to your back, the tips of his fingers mapping out the curve of your spine, skimming over each notch and bump. They climb higher, the fabric of your shirt bunching around his wrists. 

“Can I take this off, baby?”

Your heart jumps to your throat but you nod anyway. He grabs the hem and tugs your shirt up and and you lift your arms so he can slip it off over your head. He tosses it aside, the fabric falling to the floor beside the bed. You’re left exposed, vulnerable and bare, save for the worn out bra you wear, a few too many washes and a few years past its prime.

Your hands itch where they hang by your side with the instinct to cover yourself, hide the imperfections that you know so well, the stretch marks, the softness of your stomach, the way the cups of your bra are just a bit too small and spill over the tops.

But then he’s pressing his lips to the space just above your navel, his scruff tickling your skin and making the muscles in your abdomen jump and twitch. His hands find your waist again, and when his lips continue their path upwards, his palms follow, skimming up your sides, thumbs tracing the outline of your ribs before stopping at the band of your bra.

"This too?" he asks, voice quiet and husky.

"Yeah" you answer with a squeak, and he grins like a kid in a candy store.

His fingers undo the clasp deftness that makes your knees go weak, the straps slipping from your shoulders and the whole thing sliding down your arms, landing somewhere near your shirt. 

"God, baby, look at you" he murmurs, his hands cupping the underside of your breasts, his thumbs sweeping over the tops and then down the slope and around your nipple. Your breath hitches, the gentle touch sending a shiver up your spine. "You're fucking perfect."

The praise is unexpected and it sends a jolt of heat through your core. You whimper quietly and his hands are on you again, the calloused palms rough on the soft skin of your breasts. He kneads the flesh, squeezing gently before rolling your nipples between his fingers, pulling and pinching and teasing. 

He pulls you closer and ducks his head, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. He looks up at you through his lashes, eyes dark and hooded, and his pupils blown wide with desire.

"Can I?" he asks.

"Please."

He leans in and wraps his lips around a peaked nipple, his tongue swirling around the sensitive nub, the gentle heat of his mouth on your skin making your knees weak.

His mouth works on one breast, tongue flicking and teasing while his free hand continues its work on the other. Pleasure builds and coils deep inside, the sensation unfamiliar but certainly not unwelcome. You whimper and he pulls away, releasing your nipple with a wet pop before giving it a sweet parting kiss.

He turns his attention to the other, his teeth grazing over the stiff peak and drawing a whine from your lips. He sighs when your fingers tighten in his hair, pulling at the strands until he groans softly against you. He sucks your other nipple into his mouth, the flat of his tongue pressing against it and dragging up and around, swirling and flicking. You’re already breathless, panting, a thin sheen of sweat glistening on your forehead.

"Feels good, Joel," you whisper shyly. 

"I know, honey" he says, a soft smile pulling at his lips when he pulls away. "Feel good anywhere else?"

He doesn't wait for a response, simply slips a hand between your thighs, cupping you through the denim, the simple action making you squeak.

"Here, huh?" he says, the heel of his palm pressing against you.

You gasp softly and nod, biting your lip, too shy to say anything.

"Get on the bed, baby."

You comply, crawling onto the mattress and scooting backwards towards the pillows, sitting at the head of the bed as you watch him. His eyes never leave you as he pulls his shirt over his head, tossing it onto the floor. Your heart thumps as you stare at his bare chest, his tanned skin dotted with a light dusting of salt and pepper hair. He's broad, his shoulders thick and chest solid. Your fingers burn with the urge to reach out and touch him, so you do, extending a tentative, slightly shaky hand.

He watches you closely, eyes flitting down to the palm pressed against his chest before meeting yours again, his mouth curling into a smile.

"You can touch" he says, reaching down to curl a hand around your wrist and bringing it up to his lips, pressing a kiss to the center of your palm before guiding your hand back down to his chest. "I think most people would enjoy that."

"You're having entirely too much fun with this,” you mumble while your fingers spread out across his pec.  

"It is fun" he counters, his own hand sliding up the inside of your thigh, thumb pressing against the seam of your jeans and rubbing up and down. "But it'll be more fun once these come off"

Your lips part, a puff of air rushing out.

"You gonna take them off?" you ask, the words slipping out, bold and unbidden.

He grins, his brow quirking up.

"Look at you, being all bossy"

"You like it" you say, finally feeling some of the anxiety slipping away, the familiar and comfortable banter between the two of you slipping into place in a new, unfamiliar situation.

His smile takes up nearly his whole face as moves closer. 

“I sure do.” 

He looms over you, bracing himself on an elbow next to your head before ducking down to kiss you, his tongue easily slipping into your mouth, warm and insistent. You sigh into it, your hands finding the warm, bare skin of his back, muscles gliding beneath your palms as you slide them up and around, fingertips digging into his shoulders. He's so warm and solid and you can't help the little noise that slips out, a soft, needy moan. You're about to break the kiss and beg him to touch you, give you something, anything, but he pulls back before you can. 

"Impatient. I like that too" he says, voice barely above a whisper.

He kisses the corner of your mouth, then your cheek, then down your neck, his beard scraping against your skin. He continues his path, pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses across your collarbones and down the valley between your breasts, his beard tickling your sternum.

His palm presses into the top of your thigh, and you instinctively open your legs for him, his hand immediately moving to cup you through the denim, thick fingers pressing against the seam and the bundle of nerves just below. Your hips rock up, seeking more pressure and he grins, entirely too pleased with himself right now.

You huff, and he laughs, the sound rumbling in his chest, but he relents, undoing the button and zipper of your jeans and tugging the fabric down, revealing the pair of pink panties underneath. 

Joel sits up, pulling your jeans down your legs and letting them drop off the side of the bed, the sound of the denim hitting the floor indicating that you've officially crossed a line that neither of you can come back from. But if the hungry, desperate look on his face and the way you're practically vibrating underneath him are any indication, neither of you want to.

"I'll start with just my fingers, yeah?" he says, his hands running up the insides of your thighs, touch light and teasing, the tips of his fingers brushing the edge of your panties. You nod dumbly, at a complete loss for words right now.

He ducks his head, his lips landing on the smooth skin stretched over your hip bone. You squirm, ticklish, and he grins. His mouth is a great distraction from his hand, which has found its way back in between your legs, his fingers now pressing against damp fabric.

"Shit" he curses, his touch firm. "Fuckin' soaked already. Am I just that good?" he quips with a smirk.

"Jesus do you ever shut up" you gripe, but the effect is ruined by the whimper that escapes you when his thumb sweeps up, pressing hard against your clit. 

"Oh, that's a pretty sound" he murmurs, repeating the motion to pull out another one, your hips bucking against his hand.

"Now," he starts, his tone shifting to the same one he uses when he's about to impart some life lesson. "This guy you're gonna see, or any man for that matter, should always take care of you before himself. That's just common fuckin' sense. And if he doesn't, you send him on his way" he continues. "Because a man that don't wanna see a woman get off is no fuckin' man at all"

You're about to interrupt, tell him he's an idiot and ask him to please, please, get on with it, but his fingers sliding under the elastic of your panties, swiftly pulling them down your legs steals the breath from your lungs. Your pulse sky rockets and you shift underneath him, crossing your thighs in instinctual effort to hide yourself from him. 

"M'sorry I didn't shave or anything" you blurt out, your throat tight with anxiety and embarrassment once again 

Joel just shakes his head as he pries your legs apart.

"Baby, I could not give less of a shit about that."

"But-"

"No" he says, the word firm, an edge of command to his tone. "You’re not apologizin’ for that. And if a man gives a shit, he's a fuckin' child who doesn't deserve the honor of bein' between these thighs" he says, pushing your knees further apart.

You nod and bite your lip, the words that are just so very Joel, settling in your chest and easing the tension in your body. You let out a long, slow breath and relax, trying to ease the nervousness.

"There ya go" he says, his fingers dancing along your slit, gathering the slick pooling there. You shudder at the gentle touch, your hips rolling up just a bit before you force them back down into the mattress, trying to keep yourself still.

"Nuh-uh. None of that" he says, immediately noticing the movement. He slides his free hand under you, his palm pushing into the small of your back and encouraging you to move again, to lean into your pleasure. "You take what you want, baby. Show me how good it feels. That's all I wanna see."

You squirm and whimper, the simple, almost lazy touch driving you insane. You've touched yourself before, brought yourself over the edge while imagining what it would be like to have the things you read about and watch in videos happen to you. But you've never managed to make yourself feel this good, never felt pleasure so intense, never felt a burning pressure in your abdomen so demanding that it radiates all the way to the tips of your fingers and toes.

And he's barely touched you.

"How's that feel?"

You can't even form the words, so you just nod and hum, the sound a mix of a whimper and a moan, your hips rolling up against his palm. He chuckles, and then the pressure increases, the friction building, his fingers slipping down, collecting more of your wetness to ease the drag against your skin.

He moves his fingers down, down, down, the tip of one circling your entrance, gathering the wetness pooling there. You whine loudly, any shame and modesty you once had replaced entirely with desperate need and pure desire.

"Please, Joel" you whisper, voice shaky.

"I gotcha" he says, dipping his fingertip in, just barely, and pulling a moan from deep in your chest. "Gonna give you what you need"

You groan, a long, low sound as he slowly sinks his finger into you. It's nothing like your own, so perfectly thick and long/ And you found the spot before, the spot that he curls his finger up into, but never at this angle, never with the perfect amount of pressure that he's applying right now. 

"Mmm, look at that" he coos as you clench tightly around his finger.

"Joel, god, feels so good" you whimper pathetically. 

"I know, honey, I know."

You clench again, the cockiness and self-assured attitude that usually gets under your skin now ignites your whole body in an entirely different way. He keeps his eyes on your face, watching as your eyes squeeze shut and your mouth drops open, your head tipping back as the pleasure builds.

"Another" you beg, the fullness not nearly enough.

"Greedy girl" he chides, but he pulls his finger out, and slides two back in. You swear that you could come from this alone, but he doesn't let you, the hand that was supporting your lower back disappearing, only to reappear between your thighs, his thumb circling your clit with firm, steady strokes.

White hot pleasure wraps around the base of your spine, the dual sensations of his fingers and his thumb sending you spiraling. The sounds falling from your lips are unrecognizable, high and desperate as your mind goes blissfully blank, your entire focus on the heat coiling in your abdomen. Your eyebrows pinch together and you bury your face in the pillow next to your head, trying to hide the ridiculous expression you're surely making, but you inhale the traces of his shampoo and cologne that cling to the fabric, the scent pushing you even closer to the edge. 

You try to hold back. Surely you're not supposed to come this quickly, not just from two fingers and a thumb. Surely that's a sign that you're an easy lay, or too inexperienced, or-

"Just let it happen, baby. I can feel it, Just let go" Joel says, his voice cutting through the thoughts racing through your mind, his fingers crooking inside you and dragging across the spot that makes your hips stutter and a cry fall from your lips.

You can't hold back any longer, the pleasure cresting and crashing down around you. You squeeze his fingers, your back arching, the heels of your feet digging into the mattress as you roll your hips up into his touch, seeking more and more and more. And he gives and gives and gives, working you through it and drawing it out for as long as he can before you melt into the mattress, bones and muscles liquid and warm and satisfied.

He pulls his fingers out, and the sudden emptiness draws a disappointed whine from you, his answering chuckle making you smile.

"That was- fuck" you sigh, not quite capable of coherent thought.

"Absolutely mind-blowing? Yeah I know" he teases. You roll your eyes but don't say anything because it's true, and his cocky grin fades into a soft smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he watches you return to Earth. 

"Can I- can I return the favor?" you ask, your gaze flicking down to the noticeable bulge in his jeans.

He grunts and shakes his head.

"Not yet. Got somethin' else in mind."

You frown and push yourself up onto your elbows, watching as he shifts from his position. You're about to ask what he's going to do until he's settling himself on his stomach between your thighs. You suck in a sharp breath as you realize exactly what he's got planned and your heart jumps, anxiety clouding your mind once again. 

He rests his cheek on your thigh, his eyes meeting yours.

"Alright?"

You swallow and nod, licking your lips.

"Yeah. Just... no one's ever-"

"Yeah, I got that much, that's why we're here" he says, smiling smugly when you glare at him. 

"But what if it's not good? Or I don't taste good? Or-"

"Stop" he says, the single word halting your runaway train of thought. "You need lessons in relaxing, not sex. You're so fucking tense all the time"

"Sorry" you say, immediately cringing.

He sighs, his breath ghosting over the skin of your inner thigh, making you shiver. "What did I say about apologizin'?" he says, his tone slightly sharp.

"I know. Sorry- shit, sorry! Fuck!"

He barks out a laugh and you huff, bringing up both hands to scrub over your face.

"See what I mean?"

"Yes, yes, you're very smart and know everything"

He hums and nips at your thigh.

"Damn right I do."

You want to snark back, but his mouth is moving, his lips trailing down the inside of your thigh and towards where you're aching for him, slick and wet and throbbing. He takes his time, laying kisses on your thighs, hips, and stomach, his scruff scraping the sensitive skin, huffing out a laugh when you start to squirm, your patience wearing thin.

His hands smooth over the soft flesh of your inner thighs, urging you to spread them wider before spreading you open with his thumbs, exposing you completely. You feel exposed, vulnerable, and the urge to close your legs and hide yourself from his gaze is overwhelming, the embarrassment making your skin burn. But before you can even think about closing them, his tongue is on you, sliding up the length of you and circling your clit. The moan that escapes you is embarrassingly loud and high pitched, but the mortification is easily swallowed up by the pleasure.

He hums against you, the sound and the feeling sending a shudder through your body. Your hands grip the pillow behind your head and you try not to buck up into his mouth, but your attempts are futile. He doesn't seem to mind though, in fact you think it spurs him on, his tongue flattening against you and lapping at you messily, the wetness he's coaxed from you smearing across his mouth and chin.

The sound is lewd and obscene, the sloppy, slick noises and the soft grunts and groans that rumble in his chest as he works you up. He pulls back, his breath coming out in pants, his chest heaving as he looks up at you, his eyes dark and hooded.

"Don't know what you were worried about" he says, his voice low and raspy. "You taste fuckin' divine"

His beard is shiny and damp, his lips glistening, hair messy from where your fingers were tangled in it. The sight of him looking so completely disheveled and filthy has you clenching around nothing, the ache almost too much to bear.

He doesn't say anything else, just ducks his head and gets back to work, his mouth moving with a renewed urgency, his hands gripping your thighs and pushing them further apart, allowing him better access.

Your eyes roll back and your mouth falls open, a constant stream of moans and whines and babbling pleas and praises falling from your lips, but you're not really sure what you're saying, not really sure of anything except the intoxicating pleasure coursing through your veins.

You hear him moan, can feel the vibration against your skin, and you glance down at him, and that's a mistake. The sight of him, his eyes closed and brows drawn together in concentration, his cheeks hollowed out as he sucks and nips and laps at you and– is he fucking grinding his hips into the mattress?

You're fucked.

A throaty moan tumbles past your lips as your hips start to rock, a rhythm forming as you chase your orgasm. His hands leave your thighs and he slides one arm up, the weight of it resting against your abdomen to keep you still while his other hand snakes down, fingers dipping inside again, finding the spot that makes you see stars.

"Fuck, Joel, please, oh my god, I'm so- please"

He groans in response, the hand on your stomach pressing down harder to meet the two fingers curling and stroking inside of you. You cry out at the increased pressure right as he wraps his lips around your clit, sucking and swirling his tongue around the bud, his fingers moving faster and faster. Flames lick up your spine and spread throughout your body, threatening to burn you alive. 

Your orgasm hits you like a freight train, knocking the wind out of you and turning your limbs to jello. Wave after wave of blinding euphoria crashes over you and all you can do is cling to the pillow and arch your back, your toes curling as he continues to work his fingers and tongue, happily letting you ride his face and grind into his mouth.

He doesn't let up, not until you're a whimpering, trembling mess, physically pushing his head away when it becomes too much. He pulls back reluctantly, a wicked grin plastered to his face, his chin and mouth absolutely soaked. You're panting, struggling to catch your breath as the aftershocks make you shiver despite the content warmth spreading throughout your entire body.You feel sated and sleepy, a bone deep satisfaction making you feel boneless. 

But as you come down from your high, rational thoughts start to filter in and you suddenly remember the reason this all started in the first place.

You're here to learn, he should be teaching you how to please a man.

How to please him. 

You watch as he gets off the bed and wipes his chin with the back of his hand. Your eyes shamelessly rake over him, the dusty pink flush that decorates his neck and chest, the curve of his belly down to the impressive bulge in his jeans. 

You push yourself up, ignoring the way your arms tremble with the effort. He looks at you, his eyes scanning your face no doubt looking for signs of distress.

"You ok?" he asks, eyebrows pinched together in his typical concerned Joel fashion.

"Yeah" you say, a little breathlessly. "But I still want to..."

Your voice trails off and you glance down at his crotch, hoping he gets the message.

"That's alright, baby. It's a lot, we don't-"

"No" you interrupt, a hint of desperation in your voice. "You said you would teach me. Please, Joel. I-I wanna learn" You hope it's a good enough cover to the fact that you really just want him, your original goal forgotten. "I just don't want to embarrass myself" you add, pouting slightly for good measure, praying to god that he can’t detect the underlying want for him and him only.

He watches you for a moment, seemingly contemplating his decision. And then his eyes narrow, because of course he knows. There's never been an instance where you succeeded in lying to this man. He always, always knows when something is off.

"Alright" he says, a slow smile spreading across his face, something mischievous sparkling in his eyes. "Dick sucking class is now in session"

You groan, your face twisting with visible disgust.

"Oh my god, that was terrible."

"What? It's true" he says with a shrug.

"That is- no, no way. Never say those words ever again. Ever." you say, pointing a finger at him accusingly.

"Or what?" he challenges, taking a step towards the bed.

You gulp and lick your lips.

"Or..."

He waits expectantly for a response. You have none, so you just shake your head and look away.

"Yeah, that's what I thought"

You glare at him and then sigh.

"You're a bully"

"Am I?” He asks, taking a step back to give you more room. “ 'Cause you're the one that asked me to teach ya. On your knees, kid. Let's see whatcha got."

You chew on the inside of your cheek, trying to suppress a grin. You don't know how he does it, but his ability to make a joke or a quip out of anything always has a smile tugging at the corner of your lips, even when the jokes are awful and the puns are terrible. Even when the joke is about you getting ready to suck his dick. 

"You're a bully and a pervert" you say, sliding off the bed and sliding to your knees, the plush carpet doing a decent job at protecting your joints.

"And proud of it.”

"Pride is a sin."

"So is premarital sex, so I'll see you in hell, honey"

You snort and look up at him from your place on the floor, grinning widely.

"You're ridiculous"

"You love it"

And that's the thing, isn't it?

Because you do. You love his innate ability to make you laugh, to make you smile even when he's about to take your fucking virginity. He knows how to comfort you, how to put you at ease, when to push you with his teasing and when to pull back and let you take control. You've never met a person who has so effortlessly made their way into your heart.

And here you are, on your knees for him under the false pretense of practicing for a man who's name you can't even remember right now.

You shake your head, the motion clearing the thoughts and the emotions that were swirling in your head, the ones that make you want to stand up and kiss him, kiss him until your lips are numb and you're left gasping for air.

"Joel?" you say his name softly.

"Yeah, baby?"

"Teach me."

Part 2 is already in the works I promise hehehe thank you for reading I hope u all enjoy!!

[hairmetal666]

Never in a million years did Steve Harrington think he'd be standing in the drama club room in front of Eddie the Freak--who's sitting on a goddamn throne with his full lips pulled into a smug grin--asking to be taught how to play Dorks and Goblins. Yet, here he is, face a burning shade of crimson, as he explains for the sixth time what, exactly, he needs.

"Munson, it's not that hard. Henderson wants me to play in the--the game thingy they're doing when Will is home for a visit."

"Yeah, Harrington, and I stop listening every time you call it a game thingy. You obviously don't care about this at all, so why should I waste my time helping you?"

Steve rolls his eyes. "What if I pay you?"

Munson's face goes through a complicated series of changes before falling into a neutral mask, no smirk or teasing smile to be found. "You'll pay me to teach you dnd? Are you fucking kidding?"

"No?' Steve draws a hand through his hair, watches as Munson's dark eyes track the movement. "I thought you might help me out cause those kids never shut-up about you, but I'm willing to put money on it."

"Huh," Eddie says. He steeples his fingers under his chin. "Maybe I misjudged you, Harrington."

Steve lets himself smile at this. "I don't think you did. I don't give a shit about this game."

"Didn't take you for one to have a bunch of nerdy child friends."

"I'm their babysitter," he says, realizes immediately it was a mistake.

Eddie cackles until it turns into a full-bodied laugh, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes. "You are something else, Harrington," he manages.

For his part, Steve hopes Munson hasn't noticed how bright red his face is. "Does that mean you'll help me?"

"I guess," he rolls his eyes. "But if you're just screwing around, I'm out."

"No, yeah, totally," Steve nods too hard, sends his hair cascading into his face. "Sounds good. How much?"

"Huh?" Eddie tilts his face up, giving Steve a perfect view of the smattering of faint freckles across the bridge of his nose.

"I said I'd pay you. What's the going rate for dnd lessons?"

"Oh, nah, free of charge, Harrington. Henderson would eat me alive if he knew I made you pay."

The smile they share is soft, tentative, and Steve doesn't notice the swathes of pink decorating Eddie's pale cheekbones.

---

They meet up in the drama room after the last bell. Eddie is waiting on the throne with his feet propped on the table, sipping a Mt. Dew. His eyes widen when Steve walks into the room.

"You're on time," he says.

Steve scoffs. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Eddie shrugs, sets his feet on the floor. "Just wasn't aware that the King put a lot of stock in punctuality."

"C'mon, man, I'm trying not to be that guy, and I'm definitely not king of anything. Unless maybe it's Family Video, but even then, that's Robin."

"You're kind of weird, Harrington, you know that?" Eddie's dimples bracket his smile. The sight does weird things in Steve's chest.

"I've been told, yeah." Steve smiles back. "Where do we start?"

They start with dice, with a character sheet.

"Chaotic-good human Paladin?" Eddie asks.

He shrugs. "That's what Dustin keeps screaming at me. I got no idea what any of it means."

"That's not entirely true," Eddie says. "You've kept up with me so far."

"Yeah, that's you. Dustin rambles and then accuses me of not listening when it's over my head. When he goes on long enough, I start to get a headache right here," Steve rubs the spot between his eyes.

"That kid," Eddie says with the right combination of affection and frustration. "I don't know, you seem to have picked up on some of the stuff he said. You have a solid idea on gameplay, at least. I'd say you're doing pretty good."

"Thanks," Steve laughs. "No migraine yet, so that's a point in your favor."

"Migraines?"

"Head trauma."

"Byers?"

"And Hargrove."

"That was Hargrove?" Eddie asks.

"Hit me in the head with a plate."

"What the fuck."

"He was pissed that Max was friends with Lucas. He came after them. I couldn't just let him--I think he would've killed Lucas."

Eddie nods, hands fiddling with a die. "No wonder those kids love you," he says.

"We've been through some shit together."

"Guess it makes more sense why you wanted to learn dnd."

"As much as it pains me to admit," Steve rolls his eyes. "I love to make those little shitheads happy."

"Well, based on the way they talk about you, you succeed."

"You too, you know?" Steve offers. "All I've heard about the last three months is 'Eddie's so cool,' 'Hellfire's so fun.'"

"Jealous?" Eddie laughs.

"Completely," Steve admits.

"Don't worry, Harrington, I'll make a nerd out of you yet."

---

They meetup after school every day they can over the next two weeks. At first, Steve is surprised that he doesn't really mind spending so much time with Munson, that he actually, kind of, has fun. And the more time they spend together, the more Eddie infiltrates his space. Leans into Steve's side as they sit next to each other, brushes their hands together, hovers over his shoulder, faces nearly touching, as he checks stuff on Steve's character sheet.

It makes Steve feel--well, it makes him think of what it would be like to run his fingers through the soft gloss of Eddie's curls; wonders what that plump mouth would be like pressed against his own; can't stop thinking about if Eddie is as vocal in bed as he is everywhere else. He knows he also likes guys, has for a while, but he's never in his life wanted someone this viscerally; so much he can feel the ache of it in his teeth.

It's the last day before the campaign for Will, and Steve is fucking sad. He thinks maybe Eddie is too. He's at least quieter than normal, explanations not at their usual fever pitch. An hour before they usually call it quits, he claps his hands together (too gently, too unlike himself), says, "That's it, Harrington. You're not going to be more ready than this."

"Right," Steve says. Can't help his eyes from darting over Eddie's face, aching to know what he's thinking. "You'll be there tomorrow?"

Eddie bends his head over his notebooks. "Nah, I don't need to intrude."

"But--"

"It's okay, Stevie. I get that it's family only." He looks like he really means it, but his eyes are sad, don't shine like they should.

Steve doesn't know what to say to that, just nods, and then there's nothing else. They stare at each other for a few very long, quiet seconds, before Eddie says, "I'll see you around, Harrington."

"Right, yeah. You too." And he walks out of the drama room with the heaviest heart he thinks he's ever had.

---

Steve thinks he won't miss Eddie. That if he doesn't dwell on those hours spent with Eddie, learning dnd, that the missing will go away.

It doesn't.

Which is how he finds himself back at the high school on Wednesday, standing in front of the drama room door, willing himself to go inside. Eddie's on the throne, the typical notebooks and binders and Mt. Dew cans clustered around him, but he's not engrossed in imagining up a new campaign for Hellfire. No, his head is in his hands, knees drawn up to his chest.

"Eddie?" Steve asks.

His head pops up, and even in the low light, Steve notices the silvery tracks of tears down his cheeks.

"Steve! What are you--" he hastily wipes at his face with his shirt sleeve. "What are you doing here?"

Steve's acting only on instinct, crossing the room and dropping to his knees, taking Eddie's jaw between his palms, thumbing away the wetness on his cheeks.

"Did someone hurt you?" he asks.

Eddie's laugh is wet. "Nah, Harrington. I only have myself to blame for this one."

"Can I do anything?"

"Are you trying to kill me?"

"Sorry?"

"You, Steve Harrington, kind and compassionate? Learn dnd to make your little nerd friends happy? Who are you?"

"I'm just me, man," Steve blushes. "But, uh, I came to thank you." He's still holding Eddie's face in his hands, can't help but notice the way he flushes, how his dark eyes dart away from Steve's.

"I really liked hanging out with you," Steve says. This close to Eddie, his mind doesn't quite feel like his own. All he can think of is big eyes, soft curls, full lips.

"Yo--you did?"

"So much," Steve whispers. He doesn't quite remember moving, but now their foreheads are pressed together, warm breath mingling, lips almost, almost touching.

"I liked it too," Eddie breathes. After a few seconds, he laughs. "Knew I'd make a nerd out of you, Harrington."

"Shut-up," Steve laughs.

"Make me," Eddie says, and it's just that easy. Steve crosses the space still separating them, presses his mouth against Eddie's.

The kiss is slow, exploratory, the gentle discovery of how they fit together, the promise of all the things they can do in the future, all the pleasure they can bring.

"I'm not a nerd," Steve says when they part.

"No, you're right. You're like a nerd by marriage. Nerd-in-law," Eddie giggles. His eyes are bright, face pink, the most beautiful thing Steve has ever seen.

"Shut-up," Steve giggles right back.

Eddie raises an eyebrow, the dare obvious, and Steve doesn't hesitate to kiss him again.

"You wanna get out of here?" Steve asks when they part, significantly more breathless, jeans significantly tighter, than when he arrived.

"You're gonna have to role persuasion for that, Stevie," Eddie smirks.

[spncvr]

HIII I kinda suck at writing so maybe you could take my idea and use your amazing writing skills and make something of it? (Only if you want ofc!!) hear me out yk how Spencer rambles about random facts and everything at the bau imagine if he had a partner (was a profiler as well) and that knew a lot about musics or movies and would ramble about it to him?

Ignore this if it sounds stupid 😭

rambles | s. reid

summary: you talk a lot, spencer doesn't mind.

pairing: spencer reid x reader

warnings: okay so idk if this counts as gn!reader?? but reader wears a dress lol. drinking, and again my terrible english,, lmk if i missed anything!

a/n: hey beautiful!! this deffo does not sound stupid i had fun writing it but this is so bad im sorry i didn't do u justice *crying emoji* also im so sorry this took me forever to finish LMAOOO

masterlist

YOU CAN FEEL it.

In your spine, in your ears. The song’s quiet but it had you in its grip, tight and firm—music’s always been like that to you. It didn’t matter if it was Hendrix, Queen or even Chopin; it has always been the one thing to make you stop dead at your feet. It’s a feeling you can’t quite put your finger on. There wasn’t a word in the English language that could possibly describe how it made you feel. Perhaps, you think humorously, you ought to learn another language, or two. 

You’re wearing this dress. This sweet, white silk thing that sweeps against your knees each time you take a step. The taste of expensive wine sits against your lips, lingering. The glass rests idly around your hand and your grip is careful. Expensive red wine and a cheap dress don't usually mix well together. 

“You okay?” 

You smile, teeth and all. Spencer who’s found his place next to you, furrows his eyebrows worry painted against his soft features. He looks tired. But he’s here, with the rest of the team; he always is.

“Fine,” you say, blasé. “You, Dr. Reid?”

His eyebrows raise slightly, “Yeah, fine.” then, “nice dress.” It’s a small whisper. 

You brush your tongue against the wine on your lips. The comment catches you off guard—especially when he’s dressed like this and looks at you like that. So, all that leaves your wine-stained lips is a small: “Oh.” then, because you remember your manners you say, “Thank you.”

The song changes, and Spencer smiles, “The songs—” he says “they’re nice.”

“I—” You stop yourself from rambling because really, they’re more than nice. It’s Elle Fitzgerald. She’s—Her voice, her instrument is clear as a bell, with diction that’s almost impossible to misunderstand. Her rhythm is— well it’s, you can set her as the metronome for her own band. Which, well, isn’t exactly easy to do. The way she’s able to scoop and bend her pitches with such precision is, beyond, nice. So the song, really it’s, more than nice, it’s a masterpiece it’s—

“Uh, yeah, s’nice.” you pause, “More than nice, really.”

Spencer smiles, amused, “More than nice?” he echoes.

You clear your throat, “It— yeah. I mean, it’s Fitzgerald, you know…”

“I don’t know,” he says simply.

Figures, you think. “No, yeah. She’s, like, got this tone in her voice, you know? And it’s like she’s the one leading the band— with the rhythm, I mean. As in like, instead of the drummer, which isn’t exactly easy to do. You know, actually, some people say she — she’s got the voice of an angel. Or something along the lines; can’t really remember and—” you pause, slightly embarrassed at how much you’ve been talking.

“Er, sorry,” you mumble sheepishly. The edge of your shoes had suddenly become increasingly interesting. “didn’t mean to go on a tangent.”

Spencer kisses his teeth, and you look up to find him grinning. “No, uh,” he scratches the edge of his eyebrow. “You don’t need to apologize for talking about something you like.” He seems to think about his next words as he brushes his hand against your arm. It sends a shiver that lingers longer than the touch itself. Spencer Reid could be so cruel sometimes. 

“I love listening to you talk.”

Your dress ends up wine-stained, anyway.

as usual my inbox is always open for requests (or just to talk lol) but it will take 192374 years to actually finish it,, reblogs are soo appreciated !! (u guys r always so kind idk why im asking for them) so is feedback btw!! (despretely in need of some)

[multifandomgirl08]

Stones To Throw At My Creator [Mini Verstappen Series]

Dad! Max Verstappen x Wife!Reader (Established Relationship)

Summary: He wasn't his father. He would never raise Nico like that.

Warning(s): Angst, Mention of past trauma caused by a parent, Jos Verstappen (just him, in the second half), Max and Jos have a verbal confrontation

A/N: Title from the song Bother by Stone Sour. This song was on one of my playlists and I couldn't help but think of Max while listening to it. I don't normally tackle heavy issues, but I couldn't get the idea of Max wanting to comment about his father's parenting now that he is going to be a parent (again). Totally me rambling but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless.

This part and the following part of Mini Verstappen are going to be heavy in terms of the subject. Luckily after the next part, it'll be the second to last time we hear about Jos in this series.

Words: 2k

Previous Part → Next Part Mini Verstappen Masterlist

It was one of the odd weekends that Max had off. Nico had a karting race that weekend, and Max made sure that he had been there given how many he had already missed.

“I only got fourth.” Nico blubbered, with his head slumped against his chest.

“You can’t win them all Nico.” Max insisted.

“But you win almost all of your races.” The little boy remarked.

While Max enjoyed winning when he was racing, he didn’t want Nico to feel like he had to strive to be amazing behind the wheel at such a young age. Nico was still learning and wasn’t going to be competing until he was older. He shouldn’t be thinking about winning races all the time. He was just a child.

“Yes I do, but there was a time when I didn’t. Winning isn’t everything. You need to focus on being a good driver first before winning anything. Especially when you have a team of people who are working alongside you.” He explained.

Nico knew how important the team was when Max was on the track, it was hundreds of people working to improve the car. It was never just Max at the end of the day. Max didn’t want to push Nico like his father had pushed him. There were times when Max felt he couldn’t handle the pressure his father was putting on him and he didn’t want Nico to ever feel like that.

Over the last year that Nico had been karting, Max had made his peace with it. This was what Nico wanted. So Max would support him even if he didn’t want his son to pursue being in motorsports.

After having spent so many years away from his father’s influence, with only his son and a nanny to take care of him for the first few years. It made Max think about the way that he was raised, how his father had conditioned him to have a very particular mentality when he was on the track and that was great when he was driving for Red Bull, but it wasn’t how he wanted to raise his son. He didn’t want his child to feel like he had to put aside the other things that he cared about for karting.

Nico would one day be his own person, he didn’t have to have the same aspirations that his father had for him growing up. He wanted Nico to enjoy karting while he was still young, he didn’t want to make it about winning for him. When he was older and decided that it was something that he wanted, then maybe… maybe he could be there to encourage Nico to pursue racing. He didn’t want to force it on him.

“But I like winning. It’s fun.” Nico muttered mostly to himself.

Max let out a deep breath.

He wanted to push Nico to do great when he was driving but he never wanted to take it to the extremes of his father.

He helped Nico pack up all of his things before going and meeting Y/N at the car.

“How about,” He offered up as they walked to the car. “We can work on you winning but when it’s not fun anymore I want you to tell me.”

He knew it wasn’t the perfect thing to offer up but it was better than what he had gone through growing up. He never wanted his son to resent him the way he did his father.

“Okay.” Nico nodded up at him. “Does that mean that we can fix the su…spen…sion? I think there is something wrong with it.”

Max couldn’t help but lightly smile.

“After dinner, we can go into the garage and take a look.” Max normally kept Nico out of the garage when he was working on Nico’s kart. He didn’t want his little fingers anywhere near it just in case something went wrong.

Max saw Y/N before she saw him. She was loading her bag into the back seat of the car while holding her growing belly. Baby Verstappen #2 was growing by the day.

When Y/N told him that she was pregnant he had been scared, he throught that he would have more time racing before they had kids together. Max hadn’t been around when Nico’s birth mother was pregnant with him, and he wanted to be able to experience all of it this time around. 

His wife had been at ease with the idea, telling him that there was nothing stopping them from giving Nico a sibling, he was already an amazing dad and adding another one to the family would only further prove that. He had believed her, and now that Y/N was pregnant he couldn’t keep his hands off her.

Max moved all of Nico’s karting things into the trunk of the car and closed it once everything was put away. He made his way to the front of the car, reaching for his wife’s waist.

"Hi, mijn leeuwin." He muttered.

"Hello." She replied before he pulled her in and kissed her letting his hand rest on the growing bump.

“Eww.” He heard from Nico.

Max pulled away long enough to laugh at his reaction. Although their son was used to all of the affection that he showed Y/N it was only recently that Nico started to find it gross.

Y/N carefully reached down and kissed Nico on the cheek.

“No, Mama,” Nico said after he squirmed away wiping off her kiss with the sleeve of his jacket. Nico was still as attached to Y/N as ever but there were little things that showed Max how quickly Nico was growing up.

They had just finished dinner, Max was clearing the table insisting that Y/N relax on the couch with Nico. He didn’t want her walking around more than usual.

There was a knock on the front door, they weren't expecting visitors.

“I’ll get it,” Max said abandoning the table for the door. It was a short walk, him then turning the lock of the door, and a small pull to see his father. Max froze where he stood. What was he doing here?

“Who’s at the door, baby.” He heard.

“No one, just someone who’s at the wrong house.” He said looking directly at his father. Max was quick to reach for his keys. He wasn’t going to invite his father inside. He didn’t want him here.

“Be right back.” Max hollered into the living room.

He pushed his father away from the front door before closing it behind him.

“What are you doing here?” He yelled in Dutch.

“Can’t I visit my family?” Jos had asked.

Max said nothing back to that. Jos knew that they had stopped being his family a long time ago.

“I don’t want you anywhere near my son.” Jos was trying to be civil, but Max didn’t want to be civil. He just wanted him gone from his life like he had been for the last 5 years.

“I’m his grandfather.”

“No, you’re the man that made me realize how I don’t want to raise my son.” He knew those words would cut deep, that was the intention. And he already has a grandfather in Christian, why would he need you? He wanted to add but didn’t.

Jos Verstappen wasn’t his father, they may share blood and a name but nothing else. He wanted nothing to do with him.

When Max was younger he never had to courage to stand up to his father, but after Nico came into his life he realized that he now needed to put Nico before him. After he started dating Y/N, got married, and found out that she was pregnant it made him aware that one day he would see his father and would need to stand up to him and tell him how he felt after all those years.

“What about my other grandchild?”

Max closed his eyes at those words. He never wanted him to know that Y/N was pregnant.

“You didn’t think I would find out?” Jos half questioned.

“I knew that you would eventually find out. I just never expected you to show up at my home with my family here.”

“I’m your family.”

“How can you claim to be my family when you tried to keep my son from me?” Jos never wanted him to know that he had a son. It wasn’t in his plans to make him a champion. Even if Nico wasn’t in his life, he knew he would eventually achieve that goal despite Jos always telling him that he would amount to nothing.

Becoming world Champion meant so much more given that he got to share those dreams with Nico.

“I did it for you, for your career.”

His career? That was his reason. Almost getting frostbite on his fingers as a child, being punched in the face after a race, being left at a gas station in the middle of knowhere. Was that for his career? He could think of more incidents that Jos would claim were “for his career”.

Jos Verstappen’s coaching made him a great driver, but it would have made him a shitty parent in addition to being a horrible husband.

He never wanted to put Y/N through what his mother had to deal with.

“You can claim that it was for my career. But it doesn’t change the fact that I don’t want you near my family.” Max was tempted to bring up getting a restraining order. If he did, he knew right away that Jos would call him weak, spineless, even pathetic. Jos loved to chuck insults at just about anyone, including the man that he called son.

“Max?” He heard coming from the front door. He turned around to see Y/N standing there looking concerned.

“What’s going on?” You asked.

“Nothing, liefde.” He quickly switched back to English. He didn’t want to alarm Y/N that anything was wrong even with the concern that was shown on her face. “Everything is fine.”

He was trying to be reassuring to her. Hoping that she could tell that he had everything handled and wanted her to go back inside so Nico wouldn’t be left alone in the house.

He could see that Y/N was looking past him to see who was standing there. Y/N never pressured him to talk about his father, even if she was curious about what had led them here.

“Please, go back inside.” He pleaded. He didn’t want her around Jos.

He saw her stand up straighter before making her way back into the house.

He turned back to Jos and saw he met his eyes he could see something in him shift.

“You’ve got a good wife, strong, understanding,” Jos said, and as the words left his mouth he wasn’t sure if he wanted to smile at having Jos be proud of something he chose that wasn’t racing or punch him for talking about Y/N. “Looks like my son has gotten at least one thing right.”

“I’m not your son.” He said. He finally got his father's approval, and now he was quick to realize that he didn’t want it. “Now, please leave. I won’t ask you again.”

Jos didn’t say anything back. He didn’t walk away either at first, but as they stood there Max rooted his feet into the concrete of the driveway. Jos nodded before walking away.

It was strange watching his father walk away. He finally saw that Max had grown up and was his own person. As his father disappeared into the distance, all he could feel was a weight slowly lifting off his shoulders. Almost like it was easier to breathe.

He let himself take some time before he made his way inside the house. As he walked back to the house, it was the first time he felt like he didn’t have to watch over his shoulder.

He opened the door to see Y/N standing there with Nico by her side. He opened his arms for them, wanting them close. He breathed in the scent of her hair, feeling the press of Nico into his other side. He was so grateful for the two of you.

taglist: @karmabyfernando, @barcagirly, @sachaa-ff, @iamahallucinationnn, @musingsbyshreya, @glow-ish, @nonsensical-nonsence, @fanboyluvr, @champomiel, @gothicwidowsworld, @lighttsoutlewis, @itsalwaysgay, @minkyungseokie, @mynameisangeloflife, @ursforever129, @aundercover, @bborra

[weird-is-life]

helloo! okay this might be a long request so buckle up. idea for spencer based off of my day; let it be know that i relate to spence, even if I have a "low" iq, what i mean is, I ramble. and watching people shut down spencer when he's about to rant always made me sad (obviously). but i realized it's because that happens to me. I'm a very geeky person so i get passionate and i understand why people would shut me down (still hurts tho). but today one of my friends asked a question it was about simpler animals and what the difference was. me loving animals and knowing the answer, well I spoke up but immediately got talked over about something not relevant. my real idea is, what if spencer had someone that rambled with him and appreciated his rants. like i think it'd be cute and they don't have to rant about the same thing, just both like in the corner talking absurdly fast together. and the team probably rolling their eyes. maybe??? (sorry if it was to personal) hope you have a great dayyy!!

Hiii lovely, ty for the request💕!! Hope this is okay, warnings: fluff, like one pet name (0.6k)

Sometimes Hotch kind of regrets hiring you (not really, you're a great  addition to the team and everybody loves you), but when he sees you and Spencer together, the thought crosses his mind.

What he really does regret, is putting your desk and Spencer's desk next to each other. Big, big, big mistake.

You and Spencer are hunched over something at your desk, talking very quickly, as you two often do. Hotch finds your conversations, against his better judgement, cute. But not when he's trying to start a meeting and you two can't seem to notice.

He and the team see this on a regular basis, it's nothing new, that you and Spencer talk and talk about something, anything, completely in your own world.

Your conversations are still the same just like the first time, you and Spencer met. Maybe they got even worse. You two can ramble on and on for hours like it's nothing.

And you love it. You love talking to Spencer. The topic of your conversation is never a problem, you can talk about anything and nothing at the same time.

Just the fact, that you can talk to each other without being talked over, interrupted or hushed down is everything to you and to him.

Spencer feels the same. He loves talking to you. Your sweet, sweet voice makes it even better. He loves even just listening to you talk, it's maybe his favourite thing in the world.

Especially, when you two talk about the most silly, random stuff, while lying in the bed late at night. Chuckling and rambling without a care in the world. Maybe he loves it so much, because the team doesn't know about it. It's like something sacred between just you and him.

That's definitely his happy place, just you two having a quiet conversations with sleepy voices.

"Spence, have you read this book before?" you ask, pointing at the book lying on your desk.

"Oh," Spencer's face lights up with recognition," I have. It's really good, right?"

"I don't know, I haven't started it yet. I want to, but I can't bring myself to read it after a day full of work," you say to Spencer.

"I-I could read it to you?" he hesitantly offers.

"Spence, it's almost 800 pages long...." you chuckle at his offer.

"I don't mind," he quickly responds.

You think about it, but not for too long. You don't really need convincing, not when it comes to Spencer.

"Well, okay then. But only if you really want to," you give him a smile.

"I want to," he reassures you," and i do have some suggestions...."

"Like what?"

"Like books, that are similar to this. If you like this one, I could lend them to you-" Spencer's fast rambling gets interrupted, but not by you, never by you.

"Yo, lovebirds, we'd be very happy to let you talk about whatever nonsense you're talking about, but we all want to have this meeting over with. So if you'd be so kind to join us, that'd be nice," Derek basically yells at you from the conference room's doorway, making everybody in the room look at you and Spencer.

Your cheeks go a bit pink at Derek's words, you haven't realised that they were waiting on you and Spencer.

"Relax Derek, we're coming," Spencer says back loudly, " come on sweetheart, let's go there before they get mad at us," Spencer tells you, rolling his eyes over Derek's words.

"We'll talk about the book more later, yeah?" Spencer promises.

"Later?"

"I could come over tonight?" Spencer unsurely proposes.

"That'd be great, I'd love that," you'd never pass an opportunity to spend time with Spencer and getting to listen to him talk.

Somebody would maybe find reading to each other boring, but you and Spencer would never. It's like your love language.

[emchant3d]

(Originally posted as a thread on my twitter here)

In an angsty steddie mood so: Thinking abt how Steve makes an effort to get into Eddie's hobbies, hangs out at Hellfire, and listens to his music, while Eddie is used to making fun of popular stuff and he doesn't think about how that also means he's making fun of stuff Steve enjoys.

He is obviously not TRYING to be a dick and he's such a sweet boyfriend, but he definitely rags on Steve when he wants to watch whatever game is on, makes fun of him when he listens to top 40, and teases him about how into fashion he can be.

Steve just rolls his eyes and laughs at him, says Eddie is just as self-absorbed as he is when it comes to his style, but the rest...it doesn't hurt, per se, but it falls in line with what Steve is used to - people don't care, and he's the one who makes the effort.

And Eddie is so good to Steve all the time, he genuinely loves him and takes care of him and is there for him, he just doesn't think about the fact that when he's dismissive of these things that matter to him, he's being dismissive about *Steve*.

It clicks one evening when Steve's talking about his day, how he went to one of Lucas' games and starts getting into the details about a specific play Lucas made, how impressive it was, but he cuts himself off mid-sentence and goes "you don't care, sorry-- how was band practice?"

And he's smiling at Eddie, fond and soft, but there's a tint of embarrassment at the corners of it, a pinch at his eyes. And Eddie's familiar with that look. Its the same look on his own face when he's been rambling about something for too long and somebody tells him to shut up.

It's the same look he gets when he's passionate and gets shut down and that discomfort coils in his stomach at the idea of being too *much*, of being annoying, of wearing out people's patience because he can't just keep his mouth shut.

And the worst part is - he'd been a few seconds away from cracking a joke about balls in laundry baskets and how stupid organized sports are and how nobody cares how good dumbass dudes are at throwing shit at other dumbasses.

And this time the discomfort in Eddie's stomach isn't embarrassment or shame, it's guilt. He can't stand that Steve has felt that way before - because he knows he has, he's heard the stories about his parents, knows Steve is too familiar with how bad it hurts to be insignificant.

But most of all, he can't stand the idea that he feels that way because of *Eddie*. That Steve isn't talking about something he cares about because he thinks - he knows, really - that Eddie will dismiss it.

And yeah, sure, it's a stupid basketball game. But it isn't stupid to Steve, and Eddie watches the air leave his boy's sails and his shoulders go a little tight like he's waiting for Eddie to make fun of it even while he's smiling and asking after Eddie, inviting a subject change

So Eddie waves a hand dramatically, rolls his eyes, "practice was fine, the usual - so what did Lucas do after that?" And Steve blinks at him in surprise, like he's shocked Eddie is asking.

"Um," Steve stutters, hesitates, and God Eddie feels like such an asshole, but he just keeps his eyes on Steve, does his best to look interested and engaged, and soon Steve is running through the game again, a small smile on his face, his enthusiasm obvious.

Eddie tries more after that. He asks about a song on the radio when Steve starts tapping his steering wheel to the beat. He stops complaining when Steve comes over to watch games with Wayne.

He even goes shopping with Steve, doesn't say a word when he fusses over two sweaters that look fucking identical from where Eddie is standing. He just shrugs and says "get both, sweetheart," and watches the way Steve grins when he gives his opinion.

Steve doesn't comment on what Eddie's doing, and Eddie doesn't make it a thing, but they can both feel the way their relationship feels more balanced now. Steve stops cutting himself off when he starts rambling, and Eddie still teases him sometimes, but it's playful, gentle.

And it's all worth it just for the way Steve fucking beams at him when Eddie joins him for Lucas' next game, holding hands in the family section and screaming themselves hoarse.

[theshinazugawaslut]

Which girl is suitable for Sanemi, in your opinion? And what kind of character or goals in life?

a/n: my genuine apologies for not being able to finish this sooner!

disclaimer: I will be mentioning things that Sanemi wouldn't be looking for in a partner but this is not to be taken personally.

To start off, I interpret Sanemi as a family-oriented man who would not be interesting in things like partying or hooking-up; he'd date to marry, and would only have sex if he loved you very dearly and trusted you with his life. I say this because Sanemi is a man who isolates himself from everyone he loves but also has a deep respect for women, he wouldn't wish to be like his father (and even without the idea of his abusive father, Sanemi would disagree with ideas like being a fuckboy or making bad decisions). This is not to hate on anyone who does do these sort of things, this is just how I imagine Sanemi to be and what makes most sense regarding his character.

I'm going to split this into little mini-sections with little examples and explanations as well: What Sanemi wouldn't like and what Sanemi would like.

What Sanemi Would Like/Need:

Someone of unshakeable character and a strong moral compass; meaning that the person should be resilient and strong-minded, not easily swayed by others.

Someone family-oriented; this would be incredibly important to Sanemi. He is someone who places great importance on his own mother and siblings hence he'd wish for someone who holds the same importance on their own family as well. This would also play into the fact that Sanemi would want children, so he'd unconsciously want someone who is good with kids and would also want children.

Someone humble, down-to-earth, and simple. Spoiled brats and stuck-up people would make Sanemi strangle someone.

Someone kind-hearted and patient; the most ideal sort of kindness would be someone who is Tanjiro-level. Someone who could calm him down, help him rationalise himself, or help him figure out his emotions during tough times. He'd like someone who is selfless and tender.

Emotionally intelligent. He'd unconsciously need this in a partner due to the fact he is usually unable to express and verbalise his feels so having someone understand him would mean the whole world to him.

Due to his pessimistic nature/thoughts, he'd need someone who can see good in people/things. He's not looking for an overly optimistic, happy person who believes all is good in the world but instead he's looking for someone who can separate right from wrong, acknowledge the darkness of the world and still choose to make and see the best.

Goals-wise — someone ambitious or determined. He doesn't care if your goal is to crochet the world's best handbag or have three kids or open a florist shop, as long as you love it! Someone who rambles a lot would be endearing to him since he likes to just listen.

Feminine. By this, I don't mean someone who looks feminine but someone who acts feminine, someone overall gentle and nurturing, someone he could trust to slice his heart open gently and kiss him so fucking sweet after.

What Sanemi Wouldn't Like/Want:

Somebody who is too social. This isn't to say he wants you cooped up inside the house all the time with no one around you but Sanemi wouldn't be very big on placing a lot of emphasis on friends; he'd rather you and him hang out together all the time so if you dislike clinginess in the sense he will go with you to the gym, shops, salon, your family, then you and Sanemi are definitely not made for each other. So if you're someone who constantly wants to have friends over and go out with friends, he'd most likely find himself bored and slightly irritated even if he won't say anything. He doesn't understand why some people care about their friends so much; if you were hanging out with siblings or parents, he's totally up for it, but he's more iffy about friends. To add to this, Sanemi would really appreciate someone who gets along with family and he'll definitely get along for yours.

People who go partying/clubbing. Sanemi would dislike this because he thinks there are much better ways to spend his time and he overall dislikes the idea of drinking. He probably thinks bars and clubs are immature and a waste of time. He thinks if you can't have fun sober, then you're no fun at all. Overall, he doesn't like the things associated with partying/clubbing culture, and he feels like it's not an overall good place to be. He won't judge people who do it but he definitely wouldn't like it in his own partner.

Hook-up/one-night-stands; Sanemi would never partake in this sort of culture in the first place and I don't think he'd ever go with someone who does. He has different values and beliefs that don't really align with that sort of culture, so I think it'd be very unlike he date/marry someone who partook in it. This isn't for people to get offended but he'd rather someone chaste like himself.

Someone who is always angry. I see this trope in fanfictions a lot but I don't think Sanemi would pair very well with someone who is snappish/brutish like him; he doesn't want you to be a whimpering, pathetic mess, but I don't think he's ever going to fall for someone like himself, he prefers serenity in his partners.

Argumentative. You'll both just end up heartbroken and in a very badly chaotic relationship. It would never work out.

If you don't want kids. He wants kids, he loves them and really wants his own, and you'd probably find a problem later in your life with him if you really don't want kids. He'd never force you or try to push it on to you but he'd feel really sad on the inside.

[jujutsukatsuki]

i’ve been waiting to see someone write thissss! (i think ur taking requests??)

the scene when alastor threatens husk!

the idea is reader (gn!) is there to comfort husk but he brushes them off, kinda like a hurt/comfort thing!

Okay I'm a little rusty but i got this! i wanted to do this as a Alastor x Reader but Reader is friends with Husker! I would like to add that I DO NOT SUPPORT VIV OR THEIR ACTIONS!

"This whole hotel will be full of demons wanting to check out into Heaven..." Charlie rambles on to her estranged father Lucifer, Vaggie follows on the other side of the short demon king and the princess of Hell. You followed behind them with Alastor, tall dark and creepy as he had been described by Mimzy moments before the group walked down the hallway.

"Hey Boss... can i have a word?" Alastor turns his head before his body, you hate when he does that, the sickling crack his neck makes. You turn to face the gambling demon cat, also known as your best friend in the hotel. You loved Husk, he was everything to you. "what is it?" Alastor's sickling smile never faulters, you're convinced he'd never drop the smile for people who weren't you. He was always sweet on you, even if on the outside it didn't look like he was. "You and i both know Mimzy only shows up when she needs somethin'. That bitch is trouble and who knows what kinda demon she fucked with to come running to you this time?" Alastor smirks and leans in towards the furball, you chew your lip, ready to jump between the two something you've done a few times before. "Its nothing i cant handle, don't worry Husker!" Alastor turns, arms crossed behind his back with his cane in hand, you look between Husk and Alastor. Husk looks angry that Alastor isn't listening. Husk looks to you and gives you an almost pleading look. If anyone could reason with the radio demon, it would be you. "Who in their right mind would cross me?" Alastor lets out a small hum as he starts to walk away. "I mean... you've been gone a while and its not like anybody knows why." "They don't need to know, and don't you worry your fuzzy head about it!" Alastor turns and pets husk on the head, something he absolutely hates. Husk lets out a loud growl as him and Alastor are nose to nose. The next few moments are a blur to you once husk mentions Alastor's metaphorical leash. The lights flicker, the room glitches with Alastor's power, your skin runs cold and you see the green leash snap around Husk's neck as he's thrown to the floor. "enough!" You yell, your hair standing on edge, eyes staring daggers into Alastor, your eye twitches with annoyance as you grab Alastor's arm and rip him away from Husk. "Now now sweet-" Alastor tries to calm you down, husk is shaking on the floor from the encounter. "No! This is enough Alastor, go find Charlie and Lucifer. Now!" You snap and point to where the group had gone. You never snapped at him, never even raised your voice. But right now, there was smoke coming out of your ears with how upset you were. Angry tears threatening to spill as you hold your stance. The green leash fades away and Alastor marches off without another word. "You okay?" You help Husk up who shakes you off with a tsk. "I don't need your pity, I'm fine." Husk grumbles and retreats to the bar downstairs. "Husk, please." You try and catch up with him. "What!" He turns and snaps.

"I don't need you playing the role of my parent! i can take care of myself, that's all ill ever need. Myself and what ever alcohol i can get my hands on." His voice is heavy, you know this is his mask. The one he puts on when something really bothers him and doesn't want to talk about it. You pull him into a hug and gently rub his back, you can feel his body tense, his wings are stiff before he slowly relaxes under your touch, his wings gently folding around the two of you. "I know Husker." You say gently, fingers combing his fur. "But I'm always here, you don't have to do it all on your own. I got you too. Family and losers and what not." You hum as the two of you pull away. "Yeah yeah, whatever you say." Husk smirks as he waves his hand, you know he understands what you're saying and what you mean is true, but the little bit of ego he had left doesn't let him fully show it. You and Husk reach the bar just as the building starts to shake due to some loan sharks trying to get in to look for Mimzy. The building catches fire, as they throw some Molotov cocktails through the windows. You gasp as you see some of the glass coming for you but i certain red demon pulls you from harms way. "I suppose i need to remind everyone why I'm here!" Alastor grins as he goes into his demon mode, you close your eyes, you hate seeing him in his giant demon mode. Once he's outside, you start helping Husk clean the building up.

"Darling, you alright?" Alastor comes back in to check on you

"Peachy." You snarl, still upset about earlier. Now even more upset due to Mimzy and her drama hurting the one place you loved.

Alastor straightens his suit before he forces Mimzy to leave, seeing as she was hurting the hotel and his beloved. You ignore the conversation as you sweep up glass. You feel a certain hand on your shoulder, you turn to look at Husk.

"It's okay, I shouldn't have made that comment. Don't let me get between the two of you." "I just don't like how he treats you." "Its okay, its my deal to take care of, not yours."

You let out a deflated sigh before turning to see Alastor who was waving around his cane to start fixing the hotel once again.

"Ali-" You say softly using the nickname he adored, it was simple but sounded amazing rolling off your lips.

"Yes darling?" He cuts you off as he grabs your hand and pulls you into him. You cant help but smile gently before grabbing his bowtie and yanking him down to be face to face with you.

"You ever hurt my Husky like that and i will make sure its your screams broadcasting on the radio. Understood?" You hiss and stare in his red eyes.

"Yes beloved." He nodded.

"Good." You nod back before going back to continuing to clean up the hotel lobby.

Sure life in the hotel wasn't the best, but it was your life none the less.

i hope this was good! its been a while since i wrote something!

[privitivium]

this guy rambles. motherly yan bf is all…

it's weird, i know, but it's a thing of mine!!! a need!!! a want!!!

an arrangement where you have to notify him several days before you hangout with someone in ur shared space... a common courtesy, but you think just a day before is good enough, no?? he wants to be notify days in advance,,, just to prepare himself, knowing that you'd be hanging out with someone else in the comfort of your own room - he has very ugly jealousy, and is sure to reprimand you in the future when you're actually together,,, wants to be there in some way if you have a friend over, wanting to assert dominance, listening through the wall or watching the grainy camera feed he has set up on one of your high shelves in the corner,,, i feel like it's a little weird but yeah, he's Mother.,,, wanting to look after you in his own weird way. a stoic guy, yet sweet in all kinds of ways.. in personality, taste, actions.. just imagining this big scary guy, squishy body, being all pleasant and gentle, just to try and heal you,,, ‘’mom,, ;; a slip of the tongue usually, when you find yourself being cared for in a soft, loving mannerㅡbefore he decides that yes, please call him mother, he'll love you, sweet boy.,,

type of dude to try to bake cookies while being stuffed by you from behind. ahemhrm. kinda gently scolds you about being too rough ( slamming him into the counter ), but not at all serious as he tries to weakly stir the bowl of ingredients for cake, but ultimately gives up and loses himself in the feeling of you filling him up,,, maybe he should use you as a treat for himself.. using your fluids and mixing them with some frosting, just to fill them up in some kind of baked good for him to enjoy… would you,, find that a little weird? probably, but i mean,, the dudes’ your lover, so you don't really mind all his weird little quirks or ideas including your bodily fluids in most.. maybe i'll go the extra mile and make him a freak murderer or something,,

mother being the breadwinner and housewife - it comes natural to him,, a man who simply does not get tired., of courseㅡunlessㅡyou'd like to be the breadwinner, then obviously - yes, go ahead and make him proud,,, he's sure to pack your lunch of deliciousness and a note signed with his lipstick stain that he only put on just to put a lipstick stain on the note of praise of looping cursive letters, sure to add a “my sweet boy,” knowing that completely does it for you,, so kind and considerate he is ,,,. hgngnhhgnng

[moonydustx]

So I have this thing...

I need more Law x Reader fics pleeeaassee (；ＴДＴ)

Anyway...

May I ask a reader (up to you what gender) reacting to law proposing to her? Which I doubt canon law would even do but I guess since it's fanfiction, who cares if it's Canon, right???

OMG, this is incredible, hold my hand and I'm with you on this, thank you so much for the request. In my HCs on the Law (I will still post them) I think if it was important for him to do it without even blinking. Surely it would be something more discreet, a small ceremony between just two? I don't know, I might be rambling too much.

Apologies because I didn't have much time to review and maybe I got carried away writing it. I hope you enjoy!

Important: italics are for flashbacks and character readings aloud.

The proposal - favorite moment (part 01)

Part 02 - Part 03

Law counted the minutes until night arrived, it was one of his favorite moments. That was when you would sneak around the submarine and end up knocking on the door on it. In most of these situations, you didn't get out anytime soon. He's not much of a follower on the calendar, celebrating each month together - and come to think of it, everything happened so naturally that it was decided on which day it started to be difficult for you to be a boyfriend.

Like so many other nights, you found yourself doing what was one of the only things Law could name as a hobby. You were nestled between his legs, your body resting on his chest as you attentively read another book. He found himself leaning against the wall, one of his hands resting on his body while with the other he tried to leaf through one of the new editions of Sora comics that he had picked up on the last island he visited.

He had already lost count of how many times the two of you had wasted hours tangled up in his bed reading and something else he was used to hearing you sniffle at something, like you were doing this time. His eyes looked away from the painting and went straight to where you were reading, just out of curiosity. The other times you were sniffling, he had found you reading about some character who died, some reunion, some couple who got together. This time, from what he could see, it was a marriage proposal.

He already knew it was an important topic for you. He also knew that if he had to choose to spend his entire life with someone, it would be you. Law had thought about the hypothesis a few times and when reading the small excerpt from the book, he let himself think about the idea.

"Wow." your feet were planted in front of an immense showcase. Dresses were stacked side by side in various sizes and textures, some with huge trains and others full of silk.

"Don't tell me you're one of those marriage freaks." Ikkaku planted himself next to you, next to Bepo.

"They are beautiful." the bear confirmed, touching the glass.

"Not freak…" you tried to find the words, you really didn't want to sound like a crazy person. "I mean, marriages are two people coming out in love to the world, to the government, to whatever god they may believe in or to no god at all, as if nothing could intervene or separate them."

"Okay, insane then." Shachi appeared behind you, mumbling.

"Actually, that's a nice way of thinking." Ikkaku replied to him, watching you just shrug. "And I won't deny it, they are beautiful dresses."

"Time to go." The captain's voice echoed closer than you imagined, as if he had been there the whole time listening.

Seeing the crew members move forward, agreeing to the captain's request, Law took a few seconds to evaluate the display that had distracted everyone. He could just be daydreaming, but one day you would look incredible wearing a dress like that along with the new name you would carry. Ms. Trafalgar.

From that day on, the idea of ​​proposing to you never left his mind, Law just needed to find the perfect opportunity and it appeared before his eyes.

"Okay…" your choked voice took him out of his reverie. "That's enough tears for today and I'm getting sleepy." you closed the book, turning towards him and snuggling even closer against Law's body.

"Do you mind if I keep reading some more?" he asked and you just mumbled no. His hand got tangled in your strands of hair and it didn't take long for unconsciousness to take you away.

Law gave himself a week to put the plan into practice. The small room at Polar Tang was tidier than usual however you could notice Law more tense than usual behind his back.

"Everything is fine?" you asked, quickly turning to face him. Law seemed distracted from the book in his hands.

"Everything amazing." his lips quickly touched the top of your head. It was now. All the other battles he had faced had not even come close to the anxiety he felt at that moment. "That book you were reading last week?"

"Ah, it's this one. I'm almost done. It's a period romance, princess, knight and all the little things that involves." you laughed, knowing that from your description he would hate the book. "There's no point trying to convince me to read Sora, this one is much cooler."

"So cool you were crying the last time you read it." he said in a teasing tone.

In a casually planned way, even if it went unnoticed in your eyes, he placed the comic he was reading on the bed.

"It's because he was so sweet to her, made an amazing statement."

"Really? Let me see." He moved even closer to your back, looking for space on your shoulder to follow the written words and find the perfect cue.

"Here. Can I read it?"

"Please." he asked, feeling his hands sweat cold.

"Of all the countries I've visited, I don't think I've ever found a home except in you. You've been my home, my safe haven." You started reading, already feeling yourself melting with those words. At the same time, Law took out a small box hidden behind one of the pillows. "So let me be the sword that protects you, the heart that loves you infinitely. I thought happiness would only find me in the next life until I found myself lost in you. What do you mean by that, my love? So, the The knight fell to his knees, the wounds of the battle he faced seemed not to bother him, not when Annya's eyes rested on him. Annya then heard the four words that carried a lifetime of promises…"

"Would you marry me?" Law's voice echoed alongside yours.

Before you could ask what he thought, a small black box appeared in your field of vision. Inside it, a golden ring with a small heart symbol glittered. The book fell from your hands, finding your lap, as you turned to your boyfriend.

"Law?" at that moment, your voice was not the most reliable. As shaky as she was, your vision was blurred by what you suspected were tears. Your hands covered your lips, still not believing what you were seeing.

"Maybe my sword heals you more than defends you, but that doesn't mean I'll let anyone hurt you in this world. You're my home, my safe haven and I can't wait for you to be my wife. I'd even kneel, but It's a little complicated." he smiled, seeing you still paralyzed on top of him. "So, would you marry me?"

"Yes." the first time came out as a whisper. "Yes Yes Yes!" with each new time the word left your lips, you allowed euphoria to take over your body.

Law took your hand, placing a small kiss before putting on the ring and repeating the gesture, as soon as the jewel was in the place where it belonged. His hands pulled you so your legs were around his waist.

"That's…" you even tried to speak, but it was impossible to put everything you felt at the moment into so few words. You saw him pull out a ring that was the same color as yours, without all the details. "Let me do it."

Before he could put it on his own finger, you took it from his hand and repeated the same thing he had done to you. He placed a small kiss between the tattooed fingers and let the jewelry take its rightful place.

"I don't believe." You looked at your hand and then at him. "Law, that was so amazing."

"You're incredible. I can't wait to see you become Mrs. Trafalgar. My beautiful, smart, a little crybaby…" he wiped away your tears, bringing a laugh from your lips. "My dear wife."

"I love you so much." you cupped his face, taking his lips to yours.

Even though it was full of emotions and promises, it was a calm kiss. Law, like you, wanted to record every second of that moment, every inch of skin kissed, every touch.

In the end, Law was also a marriage nut - just with his dear Lady Trafalgar.

----

Little extra:

Law was never a big fan of public displays of affection, but that morning he had made an exception. Seeing you happy, showing off your new ring and the promise of marriage, ideas of what to do on the date, honeymoon suggestions. He couldn’t deny it, it was amazing to see how happy you were with the whole situation.

His happiness was short-lived when he saw three sullen faces - one of them looking like a bear - sitting in front of him.

"So Law, my friend." Penguin began.

"Shut up, it's me."

"But I'm his best friend." Bepo grumbled.

"What do you want?" he asked, trying to understand what the three were discussing so much

"Which of the three of us will be the best man?" Shachi warned and Law watched the three in front of him cross their arms and wait for a response.

Before he could respond, Law felt two arms slide and lock around him.

"We haven't decided that yet guys. We can talk about it later." you asked and watched them begin to argue among themselves who would be what.

"Thanks." Law muttered, making you laugh. You bent down to his ear level.

"And you, I'll be waiting for you in the room. I got someone to cover my duties today, now I want to continue feeling what my dear fiancé can do for me." In contrast to the whispered and sexy voice that left your lips, you left a chaste kiss on Law's cheek and left towards the dorms.

[particular-one]

my heart won’t start anymore.

pairing. dan heng x gn!reader cw. hurt/no comfort, implied relationship between reader and dan heng, falling out of love (or is it), heavy angst that is carlyle's brand™ author's note. i say i love dan heng then subject him to my heaviest angst ideas. teehee, whoops. is anyone still surprised that i wrote yet another fic to a taylor swift song? listen to you're losing me for maximum enjoyment. ❤️‍🩹

dan heng would have to be the luckiest man alive to have known someone like you and simultaneously, the most foolish man alive to let you slip through his fingers.

dan heng did not know where to begin when it came to describing you. to merely think he was lucky enough to call someone like you his was an understatement; you were perfect for him in every way possible, that it baffles him just how he's with you.

the way your eyes sparkled at the mention of stars, your favorite subject, before dan heng listened for the millionth time to your lighthearted ramble of where the stars came from. the way your laugh echoed melodiously in his head when he made a small but harmless mistake, how he would frown a little in shame but your toothy grin would make him forget his initial embarrassment. the way your head rested on his chest, humming to a childhood lullaby that would always have the same effect on his heart — to grow bigger in affection and adoration for you.

and you made him a better person, better than he ever thought he could be. dan heng had always carried the burden of his past reincarnation's sins on his back, but your presence always made the weight seem lighter. a glimpse of you was a glimpse of a life that he could live without guilt. and he wanted to make sure that he was worthy of it. worthy of you.

in short, dan heng found the perfect lifelong partner in you, end of story.

which ... just made your words pierce deeper than a knife to his heart.

"i think we should stop."

dan heng was too deep in his thoughts that he had not realized that he crumpled the paper flower bouquet in his hand. he was supposed to hand this to you the moment he stepped inside your room; march had teased him on the amount of dedication he put in perfecting his craft — according to the archives he has read, they called it the art of origami — but dan heng found himself smiling the entire process. secretly, he thought of it like his practice of building a life with you; handling the paper with subtle gentleness and care, folding it neatly to avoid any creases, before constructing a foundation for the camellia flower, your favorite flower.

what a joke this all seems to be now.

what was going on? where did he do wrong? why were you doing this? dan heng tried to remember if he had forgotten anything important. was it the time that he brushed you aside because he was engrossed in the mission? was it because dan heng constantly locked himself in the archives all by himself, that you grew tired of that?

".... stop what?"

you looked up at him, your stormy eyes brimming with tears that you were still trying to hold back. even when you were crying and breaking his heart, dan heng could not help but think how captivating you still looked. "you know what i mean."

why? "why?"

from his perspective, he could already see how much you were struggling to say it. you were shaking your head as your body was trying to hold in the biggest sob. it took everything in dan heng not to run to you and hold you in his arms, but what are the chances that you'd end up pushing him away? your words were evidence enough that you did not need his grasp right now.

"i just... i just don't see a future with you in it."

well, that hurt. that hurt more than the days that his other self wasted away in the shackling prison, mind swimming in terror and confusion as to why he was restrained the moment he was born. that hurt more than the time he sustained his deepest injury, because you were the one who ended up patching it up for him, all the while chastising him for being too reckless again. he won't have that anymore.

"why?" it was a repeat of his former question, but dan heng could hear his voice breaking as he repeated himself. moments ago, he was just dreaming about spending the rest of his life with you. to be able to wake up with you next to him and be the first to see the satisfied smile on your face. to stay by your side until the day you inevitably passed on before him.

and now, you were asking him to let that all go?

despite his initial reflections, dan heng took a step towards you, to which he was greeted with you stepping backwards, a sight that sank his heart even deeper. "but i love you." dan heng started, his heart soaring when he saw that his words still elicited a reaction from you. at this point, he was just grasping at non-existent straws that would bring you back to your senses. back to him. "we can figure a way—"

"dan heng." he stopped at his name, before slowly looking up to meet your gaze. your eyes were clouded with pain, sorrow, but most importantly, it was devoid of the warmth that dan heng sought solace in.

"i... i don't know if i can do this anymore."

you were no longer facing him, your back shaking in muffled sobs as dan heng stood there, as he watched you push him away for the first and last time. the feeling of the crumpled paper flower on his palm left nothing but a sour taste in his mouth. to think that he was so excited to see you.

"you're giving up then? on us?"

his voice came out hollow, his once forlorn expression twisting in incredulity and subtle frustration. to think that he was so excited to make things finally official between the both of you. he was finally ready to settle down and become the better man— no, the best man for you. could you not see how hard he worked to deserve you?

how cruel were you, really?

you didn't turn around to face him, but your silence told him everything he needed to know. it took everything in him to stifle the urge to let out a bitter laugh. how could he be so foolish? who would love someone as stoic, risk-taking and tactless as him, anyways?

"i didn't take you for a quitter, y/n. but i guess we're learning something new about each other right now." he spat out, which earned a turn from you. dan heng could see the hurt in your eyes. it annoyed him that even when you're hurting him, it still pained him to see you in distress. it took everything in him to reel back and stop himself. "so this is it; this is how all... this ends." he refused to let this flurry of emotions overwhelm him, as dan heng took one step closer towards you, and to his surprise, you stood, feet firmly planted on the ground. well, what does that matter now.

he was now towering over you, his eyes never leaving your figure and now was looking down at you. a part of him begged him to not say anything else, to leave with his dignity and his head up high. even if they weren't ... partners anymore, he could still try salvaging a friendship. and yet, his emotions took full control of himself at that moment. "i can't believe i even thought you were the one for me, but i guess i would probably outlive you, anyways. "

he could have sworn he heard your breath hitch as your eyes betrayed everything you were feeling at the time. a mix of grief, sadness and surprise at his words, no doubt. however, it was a fleeting sight that only slipped into another unreadable expression. "leave. please... just leave."

typically, dan heng would be able to tolerate the silence between the both of you, but that was because he could lose himself in your gaze. not now, though. his hand crumpled the paper flower even further before he threw it at the ground. dan heng took one last look at you, a small hope resurfacing that you would take everything back, that you were simply saying it in jest — but there was nothing.

he allowed his anger to overtake him and close the door behind him with a loud slam, huffing in mixed grief and anger and leaving your room for the last time. even when you were no longer looking, dan heng still refused to let that flurry of emotions overwhelm him. he shouldn't cry over someone who gave up on him as easily as that.

if he had lingered for a moment longer, he would have probably heard you breaking down in the loudest sobs on the other side of the door.

━━━━━━━ ˖°˖ ☾☆☽ ˖°˖ ━━━━━━━

it had been three months since you left the astral express. three months since dan heng closed the door to the possibility that he would spend the rest of his long, long life with you.

three months since he hurled all those hurtful words towards you, which he has regretted since then. but his stupid ego would not let him utter a single apology to you the following morning.

it didn't take long for you to pack your bags and leave, which dan heng actually found relieving. the more he didn't see you and mourn over what could have been, the better.

still, it had been three months. dan heng would be a liar if he said that you did not cross his mind once. well, maybe more than once. maybe a million times since you left. he hated how you still had a hold on him, hated how your voice would be the last thing he's reminded of before he drifts to sleep, but most of all, he hated how he missed you since that fateful night.

how could he have missed the signs?

the tug on his sleeve brought him back to reality, as march looked over at him with a concerned glance. dan heng just shook his head and looked down at the very thing he was holding.

a bouquet of camellias. real ones, this time.

"dan heng, if you're feeling overwhelmed, we can just—" he was already walking ahead of march without listening to what else she had to say. truthfully, nothing she would probably say would deter him. the cold weather of jarilo vi was enough to drone out his ever active mind. so this was the planet that you called home after you left the express.

it did not take long for him to reach his destination, especially with how fast he had been walking. dan heng could barely even see the identifiable pink hair belonging to march behind him anymore. he'd probably have to offer her an apology for leaving her behind later.

it was a desolate deserted place, save for the monsters that roamed nearby and the dilapidated house that dan heng could only surmise as your house. though, he knew already what he was looking for.

"hey, y/n. i know you probably don't want to see me again, but ... here are your favorite flowers, just how you liked them."

to find himself face to face to a makeshift tombstone wasn't a sight that dan heng could have ever prepared himself for, but the fact that it was your tombstone that he was leaving flowers for made his last words towards you sink a knife deeper in his heart.

how could he not have noticed your erratic heartbeat?

when you told him that you couldn’t see a future with him in it, he didn’t think that you meant you did not have a future.

all those months, dan heng refused to let the flurry of emotions overwhelm him, but maybe for this time, he could just blame the emotional downpour on the bleak cold weather.

"if you had told me you were dying, i would have stayed."

written by carlyle (@particular-one) copyright: all content belongs to particular-one on tumblr (2023)

[aly-writes]

Hii can I req for chishiya & Niragi with s/o who has low alcohol tolerance and gets flushed red very easily also wayy too clingy. thank uuuuu

i missed writing headcanons lol, but why is it so hard to get the motivation to do it? here is my attempt to get back in the groove (once more), hope it's to your liking

(these requests are SO OLD)

warnings: none

chishiya and niragi with a drunk s/o

chishiya shuntaro

chishiya has never been one for nightlife, so he never had a chance to see how you act under the influence

just from what he did know about you though, he had a general idea that you probably weren't an experienced drinker

so imagine his surprise when his beloved s/o asks him to go to the bar after a rough game?

obviously he hides it well and just sort of goes with the flow

if it was his choice, he'd rather just have you stay back with him and so he could enjoy your company while he tinkered around

you were on the more quiet side so that's typically how your time spent with each other went

just silence between the two of you, basking in each other's presence

the bar was packed (as per usual) the moment you stepped in. it was peak hours, after all

you ordered a drink or two for yourself and offered to do the same for chishiya, but he declined. he took it upon himself to look out for you, and he couldn't do that if was drinking

he wasn't sure what had pushed you to want to come down here, but he had a good idea

the game you had completed was tougher than usual, and only two of the six people sent made it back alive

he held back a smirk as he watched you down your drinks

the way your face scrunched up was cute and he would definitely be teasing you about it

"can't hold your liquor?"

little did he know how factual that statement was

with how fast you guzzled down the alcohol, you were intoxicated nearly ten minutes later

your words started slurring and heat was rising to your cheeks

"chishiyaaaa"

your whines caught his attention, which at the time was directed towards the many people dancing in the center of the room. he was kind of annoyed that his people-watching got interrupted, but the moment he saw your face he couldn't hold back a chuckle

"wow, i guess you really can't hold your liquor. and here i thought i was just joking around"

yeah lol he's a little shit. despite your obvious intoxicated state, he will still tease you to earth's end and back just to get a reaction out of you

fret not, he only does it because he cares about you and lowkey (highkey) craves your responses

at first you were just whiny, but then you kind of spiraled into something a little more. and by a little more, i mean a lot more

chishiya had never seen you so clingy during his entire time of knowing you

you were very hyper-aware of where his head was at during every moment, so you only initiated affection when you knew he was in the mood and the both of you were in a comfortable place to do so

spoiler alert? this was not a comfortable place

you were all over him

trying to kiss his neck, clutching his arm to your chest, rubbing your face against his shoulder. it was almost like you were a completely different person

your pda levels shot through the roof and tbh he really wasn't having it, so he lightly grabbed your arm and led you out of the bar

it took him a second to get you to his room with how drunk you were, and after only two drinks nonetheless?

you were stumbling into the wall, pointing out anything in the general area that caught your eye, and attempting to drag him around to these said things

after a good twenty-minute walk, yall finally managed to make it to his room where he sat you down on the bed

he made sure to provide you with water before sitting next to you, listening to you ramble on and on

don't be fooled by his cool exterior! you were still clingy as hell with him

except now that he was in the comfort of his own room, he didn't feel the overwhelming urge to push you away

he was still a bit hesitant, and for a moment he just sat still while you squeezed him to death

chishiya doesn't initiate things like kisses or hugs. he prefers to stick to the smaller things such as head pats, hand holds, etc.

it's still the same in this case, even if your levels of affection are amplified by the alcohol

we cannot forget that this man works in the medical field, so taking care of people was his job. he's kinda good at that type of thing when he wants to be

he'll open the water bottle for you and make sure you drink it, even if he has to gently grab your chin and open your mouth for you

"'shiya i don't want to-"

"just drink the water, y/n"

after making sure that you're fairly hydrated, his next step is to put you to sleep

while he's sure you're having a great relaxed experience, he'd rather just get this all over with. and unfortunately, the easiest way to do that is for you to pass out

luckily he knows just the right way to do it because he has done it many times before ;)

while you hug him tight, he will pet down your hair and slowly massage your scalp. dear god does that do it for you, and before you know it you're sleepy

he lowers himself onto the mattress with you and after a few more minutes of the pure bliss that is a scalp massage, you're out like a light

chishiya can be a real asshole sometimes, but you'd be surprised at how sweet he can be when you're asleep

he tucks you in and wipes any excess sweat off of your forehead so you can sleep peacefully as possible. he doesn't really want you to deal with a hangover and a terrible night's rest, so he does what he can to make sure you sleep soundly

and lets just say he prepares the room for your hangover in the morning

he has painkillers, water, and is already mentally preparing himself to wake up early and grab your favorite breakfast

when you wake up and ask where all of it came from though, he will definitely pull the "kuina did it" card

because god forbid you have the knowledge that he did something nice for you

be prepared to never be able to let down that you're a total lightweight, he will relentlessly tease you for it

all is in good fun though, you know him quite well and are fully aware that this is how he shows that he loves you

he's a bastard but he's your bastard

when he makes fun of you for your clinginess you cannot stop apologizing, but you know by the way he's smirking he didn't mind too much

niragi suguru

niragi goes out drinking quite often, but you were never really apart of that mix

he mostly just does it to have a little fun, but he gets quite jealous easily so he never really wanted to bring you around

just the thought of some random person eyeballing you pisses him off, so imagine how he would react if it were to actually happen

niragi doesn't purposefully prevent himself from getting into fights with people (if anything, he provokes people for fun), but when it comes to you he tries to keep your relationship relatively peaceful

it wasn't like that at first, but after some convincing from you (which took a very long time) he tends to avoid situations which he knows will put him in a jealous state

you were the one that asked if you could join him for a couple of drinks

you had wanted to spend a little one-on-one time with him and the thought of just hanging around in your room again seemed kind of boring, so you offered to go drinking to spice things up a bit

you were aware of the strings that were attached when it came to hanging out in loud public places with niragi, so you mentally prepared yourself for the overwhelming possessiveness you were about to endure for the night

he has his arm around you basically the entire time you're there

most of his time is spent giving dirty looks to anybody who dares breathe in your direction lol, so unless you tug his sleeve or tap his arm... you probably won't be getting much of his attention

that's until you actually start drinking

the first thing niragi noticed was the stumbling of your feet. you seemed awfully imbalanced for only being on your third drink...?

it was hard to ignore your clumsy steps, but even harder to ignore the way you gently pulled on his arm

after a while you got sick of waiting for him to face you and impatiently grabbed his chin, forcing his eyes to look at your own

LMAO the look on his face when he sees how flushed you are and the drowsy way you're looking at him

you were always so aware of what you were doing, so this version of you was a complete shock to him

and he's even more shocked when you pull him in for a kiss

your lips were hungry for his and there's no way in hell he would reject that, but you were never one for pda

just by being together with niragi, you're going to have to learn to love pda in some type of way simply because that's just who he is

typically, he was the one who initiated affection in public

you never turned him down or pushed him away, but you tended to prefer more simple things in public

which is why this felt a little... weird? niragi was practically addicted to your affection, but you being so clingy in a crowded place felt off

he's not one to turn down your advances, and in fact, he'd gladly take advantage of it

but because you are his s/o, he sometimes catches himself trying to be a little more mindful of what you would want

this is the reason he ultimately drags you out of the bar and back into his room

he still is getting plenty of enjoyment out of your spontaneous clinginess though, basically basking in it as you walk through the halls of the beach

he ends up stopping every few minutes to reciprocate your kisses. he really enjoys them and also doesn't want to leave you hanging lol

i don't really think there's such thing as being 'too clingy' when it comes to niragi

he loves to show you off, which is why he's so keen on pda. he adores when you're the one to initiate any type of affection, it makes him feel wanted and is a huge boost to his ego

is that a good thing or a bad thing? niragi doesn't think so because he's an ass, but lol i'll let you decide

when you do end up back in his room and in a more private setting, he stops holding himself back and allows you to shower him in every ounce of attention you give out

this isn't to say he doesn't take care of you tho, because he does

he's pretty aware of what you're comfortable with and while it's hard to hold himself back, he'd rather you do such things while you're completely sober so you don't end up leaving him

yeah he's a selfish bitch

he's a little less mindful of treating your hangover in the morning simply because he just never thought that far ahead, but he'll definitely cuddle you all you want if you're up to it

[writingforstraykids]

More than friends - Chp.5

Pairing: Minho x Chan x fem!reader / Minchan x fem!reader

Word Count: 5519

Summary: On your ride home, Chan notices Minho needs some extra attention tonight, and before you know it, you're invited. Chan makes sure Minho and you feel comfortable throughout the process and lets you experience your own dominance once Minho fully submits to the both of you...

Warnings/Tags: smut, bottom!sub!min, top!dom!chan, switch!reader, p in v, oral (f/m receiving), anal, subspace, very subby min (as requested), chan gets called sir/hyung/.., reader gets called baby girl/kitten..., minho gets called bunny/pretty boy,..., fluff, aftercare, cuddles

A/N: I know I said part 4 was the end, but you asked for more, so here we go. A very subby min, as promised. There's literally no plot, have fun guys😂👀

PART FOUR

Skin to skin, breathe me in Feel with your kiss on me Lips are made of ecstasy I'll be yours for a thousand lives For you ~ Liam Payne, Rita Ora

Minho listens to Chan and you chatter on as he tries to stay awake. The last three weeks have been exhausting, and he's glad to be back home with the two of you finally. He watches you interact from the backseat, smiling to himself as he sees how close you've grown. Stifling a yawn, he gently tugs at the sleeves of his sweater and leans back in his chair. 

"Tired, baby?" Chan asks, glancing at him through the rearview mirror. 

"Exhausted," he nods before sighing softly. "No idea if I can sleep, though, I feel too tense." 

"I can help with that," Chan suggests and Minho smirks at him amused. 

"And leave me all on my own?" you pout. A heavy silence settles in the car, and they exchange another glance. "I was joking," you say half-heartedly. 

"What if you..join?" he asks almost too quietly to hear. 

"No, seriously, let Chan take care of you and-." 

"Do you want us to take care of you?" Chan cuts you off, and Minho's throat dries. His eyes filling with need betray him and Chan chuckles to himself. "Judging by that look on your face, you do." 

You turn in your seat to face him and search his blown, hungry eyes. "You're sure?" 

"Mhm," Minho hums, chewing on his lower lip as need spread through his body like wildfire. 

"And you uhm - how is that going to work? I mean, you never…" you trail off, blinking at him. Minho always took control when he's with you so far. 

"Don't act so innocent, you weren't exactly submissive when we had sex," Chan snorts. 

"That's because you were too needy to make me stop bossing you around," you protest softly. 

"Oh, that's a first," Minho snorts, and Chan shoots him a look through the mirror that makes him squirm. 

"What's that supposed to mean?" you ask curiously. 

"He tends to slip when he's all overworked and needy," Minho smirks nevertheless, teasing Chan. "Suddenly forgets he's in control when he's feeling really good." 

"Min," Chan speaks up firmly, and you watch with curiosity how Minho tenses up at the tone, hands clutching his jeans. "Don't make me regret offering you to take care of you." 

"Channie hyung, no, I'm sorry for teasing, I'll be good, I promise," Minho breathes out, eyes widening. He licks his lips and stares at him with pleading, soft brown eyes. Chan's grip around the steering wheel tightens. Oh, he's good. 

"Mhm, you better," he says calmly, but glancing down, you can tell he's getting hard by Minho's pleading look alone. 

"Missed you two so much," Minho says softly. "Missed stuffing you with my cum and licking you clean," he goes on, locking eyes with you. "Missed being good for you and feeling full," he rambles on, looking back at Chan. 

"If you don't shut that pretty filthy mouth of yours right now, I'll make sure it's busy with something else," he growls softly, and you instinctively press your thighs together. Minho sits on his hands to stop himself from allowing some much-needed friction against his dick straining in his pants. 

"Busy with whom?" you ask, and Chan scoffs. 

"That's for me to decide, doll," he says. 

You clench around nothing at the sudden change of dynamics in the car, both Minho and you staring at Chan, longing for something to happen. That's what you've been waiting for, what he hasn't allowed himself in the past week yet. Fully taking control, making Min and you bow to his will. 

It's silent for a moment before Minho speaks up, barely audible. "Can I eat her out later, hyungie?" 

You bite your lower lip hard and glance at Chan excitedly. Chan glances back at you and chuckles softly. "You'd like that, baby girl?" 

"Yes," you nod eagerly. 

"Please, Channie hyung," Minho chimes in from the backseat. "Wanna make our girl feel good." 

Our girl. You might as well pass out. 

"Relax, bunny, of course you can," Chan assures him and stops the car in front of your house. "You start when I tell you to, or else you'll get nothing from me today, and you two can figure it out on your own." 

Minho's eyes widen and he exhales almost shakily. "I'll be good," he whispers, and you wonder if he's afraid of being unable to switch back from his subby state if Chan drops him like that. It sure looks like it. 

You get out of the car, gently adjusting your skirt as you notice you're already soaking your pants in anticipation. Minho steps out of the car, nervously tugging at his sweater to conceal the very prominent bulge in his pants. Chan gets Minho's suitcase, fumbling for his keys and urging the two of you toward the house with a gentle wave. Minho's hand slips into yours as you wait for Chan to unlock the door, and he exchanges an excited look with you. Chan pulls the door closed behind the three of you and raises his eyebrows as Minho drops to his knees the moment he does. He wraps his arms around your legs and buries his face in your stomach with a soft sound. Chan doesn't seem that fazed anymore and reaches out for him, soothingly patting his head. "So eager to please, bunny?" 

Minho makes a muffled sound against the fabric of your shirt and nods before lifting your skirt and burying his face in your core, only parted by your panties. You gasp as his nose presses against your clit and exchange a nervous glance with Chan. A needy groan escapes his throat as the soaked fabric meets his skin, your scent taking over. "Hyungie, fuck," he whines, and Chan chuckles, running his hands through his hair before gripping it and pulling him back. 

"Did I say you could start?" he asks firmly. 

"S-sorry," Minho stutters, lower lip trembling. "Just wanna make her feel good," he pouts, glancing up at him through his lashes. Minho on his knees, explaining himself to Chan, is a heavenly sight, really. 

"Please, Channie," you say softly, pressing your legs together at the missing touch. 

Chan's eyes meet yours, and you swallow at the dark lust clouding his eyes. "Don't be ridiculous, baby girl, you came three times before we left to pick him up. You can't be that needy." 

"You'd be surprised," Minho laughs weakly, fondling your thigh. "That girl's a needy little s-." 

Chan grabs his chin and gives him a stern look. "You're not the one to judge here," he points out his current position on the floor. "Now behave, you two. Min, you stay dressed. Y/N, take off your clothes, living room," he instructs the two of you, and Minho scrambles to his feet. 

Chan gently kisses your temple to reassure you before sending you off. Minho looks at him fondly and chews on his lower lip. "Kiss?" he asks so sweetly, Chan can't deny him. Minho hums as their lips meet, and his whole body visibly relaxes. 

"You know your safeword, I'll be there the whole time," Chan says and takes his hand. 

"I'm so tired already, I might slip," Minho whispers. He doesn't mind falling into subspace; he knows Chan takes care of him and ensures he's comfortable and safe. A warning is never too much, though. 

"I'm here. I got you," he nods and squeezes his hand. "You know our signals; I know when you are." 

"Okay," Minho nods sweetly and pulls him with him to the living room. "You're okay with this?" he checks in with you, eyes glistening as you discard your shirt to the floor. 

"I am," you assure him. "I know my safeword and stuff. I trust you guys, and I trust Channie to keep an eye on us." 

Minho smiles and steals a kiss. "That's good," he nods. 

Chan kisses you next, caressing your cheek. "I got you, baby girl." 

Minho wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you with him to the sofa. He sits down with you in his lap and softly kisses you, nudging your noses together. "Gonna make you feel so good, honey." 

You allow yourself that little moment of reassurance and watch Chan as he prepares your favorite pillow for your head. You're only wearing your underwear now, and a shiver runs down your spine as Chan opens your bra, kissing the back of your neck as he pulls it off your body. A soft groan escapes Minho at the sight of your breasts, nipples hardening at the sudden change of temperature. Chan cups your breasts and kneads them, making you moan out his name. He kisses your shoulder softly and exchanges a fond look with Minho. "Such a beautiful girl. Y/nnie and I are going to take good care of your needs, bunny," he promises him, and Minho beams at him so full of love it makes his stomach flutter. Chan soothingly fondles down your sides, coming to a halt on your hips. "Get on your back for Minnie, okay?" 

You nod compliantly and get comfortable. The sight of your boyfriends admiring your body makes you squirm a little. Their eyes seem to be undressing you even though you're only wearing panties by now. Minho glances at Chan obediently, sitting on his knees between your legs. "Hyungie, can I start?" he asks gently. 

Chan gets comfortable in an armchair opposite you and nods. "You can start, baby." He watches as Minho pulls down your panties and marvels at the form of your naked body. "Open your gorgeous legs for Min," he tells you, smiling as you do without hesitating. 

Minho doesn't waste a second, getting comfortable between your legs and burying his face in your soaking core with a sweet groan. "Mhm fuck missed you so much," he tells you and licks up between your folds agonizingly slow. 

You hum softly at the motion and smile down at him. "Me or my pussy?" 

Chan snorts, and Minho shoots you a playful glare. "Both, obviously," he clarifies, rubbing up your thighs and spreading your folds with his fingers, watching as you clench around nothing. He hums to himself before burying himself in your wet core, dragging his tongue across your tensing hole. His nose pushes against your clit as he does, and you shudder above him. Fuck, he missed that. "Sweet girl," he marvels, tongue traveling all over your soaking pussy to lap up your juices. "So fucking wet for us." 

"Can I touch him?" you ask, glancing at Chan and almost choking on your breath. Chan's sitting on the armchair, legs spread wide, and strokes his dick, still fully dressed besides that. 

"Sure," Chan hums gently before his eyes travel back to Minho buried between your legs. 

You glance down as well, biting your lip hard as Minho looks up at you through his long lashes, moaning sinfully at the taste of you. You reach out for him, running your hand through his hair, and he hums pleased, eyes fluttering close a little. Minho pushes his tongue inside, thumb lovingly caressing your clit. He moans, vibrations shooting up your body at it. "Shit, Min, feels so good," you moan blissfully and tug at his hair. 

Minho whimpers against you, and glancing down, you notice him more or less subtly rutting against the sofa. 

"Min," Chan moans out, and Minho pulls away from you, making you whine at the sudden loss. "Stop fucking the sofa, I told you we'd take care of you." Minho doesn't even protest, even though his dick hurts as he watches Chan. You follow his eyes, swallowing softly. Chan's curls frame his face beautifully, lips parted with soft pants as he strokes himself. "Go on," he breathes out. 

"Please don't cum yet," Minho says quietly, and Chan frowns at him. "Want to suck you off when I'm done with her." 

"No need, this is enough," he says, gesturing at the two of you. 

Minho's body trembles, and tears brim his eyes, making you gulp softly. "Hyungie, please," he pouts sincerely, and you gently take his hand, soothingly fondling it. Your heart hurts at how desperate he looks, and you begin to understand why Chan is so damn protective of him. If that's the side he sees of Minho when they get intimate and vulnerable, it's no surprise he'd keep him safely stored in his pocket if he could. "Wanna make you two feel good before you take care of me, please." 

Chan searches his eyes observantly before nodding. "Okay, Minnie baby," he says, eyes growing incredibly soft. "Now, take good care of Y/nnie." 

"I will," he nods eagerly, a beautiful smile covering his face. He squeezes your hand tenderly before burying himself back between your legs, sucking at your clit.

You gush against him with a loud moan, hand shooting back into his hair and pressing him close. "Fuck," you whisper, hips bucking up against him. "Ch-Channie," you press out, stomach tightening at Minho's skillful little licks and touches. Chan hums in response, only lazily stroking himself now. "M'so close." 

"You like it that much?" he asks, and you whine in response. "Hear that, Minnie, she can't answer properly with your mouth on her." Minho almost purrs at that, squeezing your thighs. "Go on then, beautiful, make a mess of our pretty boy." 

The sinful moan against your clit that leaves Minho's lips at that is enough to push you over the edge. You moan out his name loudly, body spasming beneath him. Your eyes roll back as Minho collects all your juices, not stopping even as you whimper from overstimulation. "Fuck, Min, stop," you beg, trying to squirm away, but he keeps you in place. "Min-ohh," you squeeze your eyes shut as he sucks on your clit so eagerly it makes you cum again. You pull at his hair and shake at another intense orgasm. "Channie," you plead as Minho keeps going on, too pussy drunk to stop. 

Chan tucks himself back in and steps next to you, grabbing Minho by his hair and pulling him back. Minho leans into the firm grip, lips parting with a breathy moan. His face is a mess, and so is his hair, and he smiles at you lazily. "Easy there, bunny, not so eager." 

"Sorry," he apologizes softly to you and fondles your thighs. "Love you, kitten." 

"Love you too, honey," you assure him softly. 

"Mhm, look at the mess you made," Chan hums gently, wiping his thumb across Minho's glistening lips and licking it clean with a soft sound. 

Minho moves onto the floor, reaching up to unbutton Chan's jeans before hesitating. He glances up at him with pleading eyes. "Can I suck you off now, hyung?" 

Chan chuckles softly and unbuttons his pants for him, pulling them down to his knees with his boxers and sitting down at the end of the sofa. "Come here, baby," he nods, and Minho does, resting his chin on his knees. Chan reaches out for you, soothingly rubbing your thigh as you're still coming down from your high. He smiles gently as Minho eagerly leans forward as soon as Chan makes room for him, spreading his legs. He licks up his shaft, hand stroking him experimentally. Chan groans softly as Minho wraps his lips around him and sinks down deeper. He tenses as he hits Minho's throat, and he gags around him, tears shooting to his eyes. Chan pulls him back and leans down, cupping his face. "Stop rushing, baby; we have all the time you need, okay?" he asks soothingly, kissing his forehead, nose, and lips. Minho kisses back with a soft moan, gripping the fabric of Chan's pulled-down jeans. Chan lovingly runs his hand through his hair, soothing him for a moment before guiding him back down. Minho takes his time now, relaxing his jaw as he goes on, moaning at the taste of Chan on his tongue. 

You sit up shakily after a few moments and lovingly kiss down Chan's neck, who throws his head back against the sofa to give you more room. Your hand roams his stomach before covering Chan's, buried in Minho's hair, and intertwining your fingers. Chan gasps as you bite down below his ear, nipping at his skin and guiding Minho's head with him. "Minnie, look how good you're making Channie hyung feel," you tell him, and Minho glances up, fingers gently massaging his balls. 

Chan's jaw grows slack, plump lips falling open with a beautiful moan. His eyes flutter close as Minho takes him in deeper, moaning around him. His hand sinks down to his neck, keeping him in place as he thrusts into his mouth. "So good, bunny," Chan presses out. "Doing so well for me, fuck," he pants, pushing himself further down Minho's throat. Chan turns his head, chasing your lips, and you let him kissing him passionately. He moans into your mouth, eyebrows furrowing in pleasure as he gets close. "Min, baby, fuck," he barely gets out before shoving Minho down his dick roughly, releasing down his throat with a guttural groan. 

Minho pulls back with a fucked out look on his face once Chan loosens his hold on him and licks his lips in anticipation. Chan catches his breath and cups his face with one hand, gently wiping the spit off his chin with his thumb. "Good?" Minho asks sweetly. 

Chan smiles fondly, tucking himself back in. "You've been very good." 

Minho glances at you expectantly, and you can't fight the smile covering your lips. "So good," you agree and lovingly ruffle his hair. Minho hums, pleased with himself. 

"Now, bunny, I'll prepare you so I can make you feel all good and full as you wanted," Chan explains, still caressing his cheek. "Once you're ready, Y/nnie will help me out, okay?" 

"Okay," Minho nods quickly. 

"Y/N?" Chan checks in, and all you can do is nod. "Speak up." 

"Yes, sir," you stammer, not quite sure where the hell that comes from, but Chan doesn't seem to mind, poking your cheek. You let him guide you into your previous position and watch them curiously as he pulls Minho to his feet. Chan helps him undress, kissing him firmly as he does. Minho lets him, chasing his lips with soft whines. Chan lets Minho undress him beside his boxers and kisses him one last time before whispering something to him you can't hear. You watch Minho cautiously as he comes over and laugh, surprised as he climbs on top of you, cuddling you close. "Hey there," you smile as he nuzzles his face in your neck. The simple act of feeling his weight on top of you, his golden skin pressing against yours, makes you feel so safe and grounded it's ridiculous. 

"Missed you," Minho whispers against your skin. 

"I missed you too, darling," you tell him and watch Chan getting comfortable on the sofa behind Minho, gently pushing your legs apart to scoot closer. 

Chan fondles Minho's back for a moment before grabbing his hips and pulling him onto his knees. "Ready?" he asks, and Minho hums, agreeing, burying himself deeper into your neck as his bum is on full display for Chan. Chan locks eyes with you and smirks. "Our dear boy felt a little embarrassed because of the sounds he makes when I stretch him out," Chan explains, and a smile creeps on your face. "I thought cuddling you might help." 

"Aw, really, Minnie?" you ask softly, and Minho nods, squirming a little in your arms. "There's nothing to be embarrassed about, love," you soothe him as Chan spreads his cheeks with his fingers. "Let us hear how good you feel; I bet you sound incredibly sweet." 

"I'm not sweet," he mutters playfully offended, grip on your hip tightening in surprise as Chan licks up between his cheeks. A soft whine falls from his lips, proving your point. 

Minho's face grows hot against your skin as Chan eats him out skillfully, hands kneading his thighs and bum. His warm breath tickles your skin, and his hand gropes your hips and thighs, trying to steady himself. Beautiful tiny moans, whimpers, and whines, growing in volume and pitch, now fall freely from his lips. He's pushing back to meet Chan's tongue and grows desperate in his movements. Chan eases two fingers inside and brushes them against his prostate. Minho collapses on you with a broken moan and starts fucking himself on Chan's fingers, dragging his dick through your folds and against your clit as he does. "Hyungie," he whines, and you fondle his hair, eyes fluttering with every drag of his hips. You kiss his head and moan softly as he starts intentionally grinding down against you. “God, Y/N.” 

Chan lets him for now, kissing up his back, and soon has four fingers buried deep inside. He can tell Minho is getting close by how his body arches into his touch and his moans grow higher pitched. He suddenly pulls out, and Minho cries out his name in utter despair. "Shh, bunny, you can't cum yet, okay?" 

"Why?" he asks, sounding heartbroken. 

Chan gently rubs his sides and smiles down at him fondly. "Because you wanted to stuff our pretty girl with your cum, didn't you?" Minho moans weakly and nods face still buried in your neck. "Good, now switch positions with Y/N." 

Minho falls into the cushions heavily, staring up at the two of you with his tired, soft brown eyes. He looks adorably handsome like this, and you can't stop the moan tumbling from your lips as Chan pulls you flush against his body. "Fuck, Channie hyung, you're gonna…," he trails off as Chan runs his fingers down your folds, collecting your juices, and pushes in. You melt against him with a loud moan, reaching back and tangling your hand in his hair to steady yourself. 

"Patience," he tells Minho and locks eyes with him as he opens you up, thumb caressing your clit. "Such a good girl," he praises you as he soon eases in a third finger, stretching you out perfectly. You whine softly and roll your hips, meeting his fingers needily. 

Minho moans at the sight of you and casually spreads his legs, slowly picking up on Chan's delicious idea. 

Chan kisses his way down your neck, making you whimper his name. "Get a pillow, Minho baby." Minho reaches out for one and lifts his hips, shoving it beneath him. "Good boy," he praises him, and Minho bites his lower lip hard. He pulls his fingers from you and pats your hip, deciding you're ready. "I'll go get the lube, you two behave."

"Yes, sir," you say compliantly. 

"Min," Chan says firmly, and Minho's head snaps from your dripping pussy up to his face. 

"Yes, hyungie, of course," he promises quickly. 

A few minutes later, you're straddling Minho's lap. His fingers sink into the flesh of your hips as he's buried fully inside you, lips parting with a soft gasp at your tight heat. His face contorts with pleasure, eyebrows knitted together, and eyes squeezed shut. Chan plants a soft kiss on your shoulder, groaning as he eases himself inside of Minho. A mutual moan escapes them as he's buried deep inside. Chan inhales softly, glancing down at him. "Min?" 

"Mhm?" Minho hums, eyes still squeezed shut as he gets used to the feeling of Chan's dick stretching his hole and you clenching around him at the same time. 

"You're good?" he asks, at the same time fondling your hip. 

"Yeah," Minho nods breathlessly, cheeks flushing red. "Need a moment," he chuckles. 

You bite your lower lip with anticipation as you watch him adjust to the overwhelming feeling. It's enough for you already to have him that deep inside without him moving and Chan right behind you. You can't imagine how good Minho must be feeling now. 

"That's alright, you're in charge," he assures, soothingly fondling his thigh, making his boyfriend hum. 

Minho slowly opens his eyes and takes a few deep breaths. Chan has repeatedly told him that he was in charge whenever he fully submitted to him. Chan wouldn't do anything that pushed him over his limits; he'd never hurt him on purpose, and he'd stop at any time without getting mad. This has created a net of safety and comfort for Minho early on, allowing him to submit that easily in the first place. He meets Chan's sweet chocolate orbs and feels a warm wave of safety crashing over him, numbing his senses. Then he meets your feverish soft eyes and feels so fond of you his heart might burst. "Okay," he breathes out. 

"Baby girl?" he asks softly, and you hum in response. "You can start moving slowly." 

"Thank you," you breathe out, relieved, and lift your hips before sinking back down on him. Minho beneath you sighs and fondles up your thighs shakily. You moan sweetly at the very needed friction and brace yourself on Minho's chest. 

Chan lets you find your rhythm for a bit before gently rubbing Minho's thigh. "Tell me if it's too much," he says, and Minho nods, whimpering with pure need as Chan braces himself on the sofa and pulls back, only to thrust back into him slowly. He matches your pace, pulling out whenever you sink down on Minho and pushing back inside when you lift your hips. "That's okay?" 

"Very okay," Minho breathes out, eyes fluttering. "Feels good," he adds after a moment, a soft whimper lacing his voice. 

Chan taps your hips, signaling you to speed up a little, and once again adjusts to your rhythm. "How's the view, bunny?" he asks, lovingly cupping your breast.

Minho chokes on his next moan and grips your thighs tightly. "So pretty, Y/nnie," he tells you. "Wanted to fuck you so bad, missed that gorgeous - god fuck - pussy so bad," he rambles, making you shiver at the raw lust coating his orbs. 

You moan softly and meet his hips. "Yeah? You've only had it for such a short time but can't get enough of it, do ya?" 

Chan eyes you curiously as you seem to switch a little, growing more dominant with Minho. His boyfriend stares at you with wide eyes, seemingly incredibly turned on by you doing so. 

"What did you miss more? That pussy or your hyung's dick stuffing you until you're dumb?" you ask, and Minho swallows softly, wincing as you grab his chin. 

"Don't make me choose," he pleads softly, and Chan didn't think he'd see him do that with anyone else but him. 

"What if you had to?" you ask, enjoying this little game. 

Minho's eyes dart back and forth between you and Chan, growing confused, and suddenly, he looks almost anxious. "I don't know," he whimpers, eyes brimming with tears. "I don't wanna choose just one, wanna have you both." 

"Fucks sake," Chan groans deliciously, burying his face in your shoulder as his hips buck forward. 

You smile fondly and brush back his hair. "That's why you're such a good baby boy," you praise him, and Minho whimpers in response, lower lip trembling. 

"Yeah?" he asks timidly. 

"Yes, gorgeous," you smile at him and pat his chest. "Such a good baby." 

Chan rubs his thigh and flashes him a smile. "You're doing so well, such a good little bunny for us," he tells him. 

Minho seems to melt beneath you, blushing heavily at your combined praises. He throws his head back as the two of you pick up pace once more. His jaw grows slack as you seem to punch out whiny, shaky moans from him. He doesn't hold back anymore, falling apart with every roll of your hips, with every thrust Chan delivers. Minho feels heavenly, and the combined pleasure is almost a little too much. He feels himself starting to slip away and reaches out for Chan with one hand weakly. "Channie, hyungie," he whispers. 

Chan intertwines their hands and searches his face observantly. "I'm here, you can let go," he assures him, and Minho moans sweetly. 

Minho's face relaxes, a lazy smile spreading across his lips and his head slowly drops to the side. His hand relaxes in Chan's but stays there, his other drops from your thigh onto the sofa. 

"What's happening?" you ask quietly, stopping your movement and frowning when Minho whimpers in protest. 

"Keep going, baby girl," Chan tells you, soothingly fondling Minho's hand. "Subspace. Happens sometimes." 

"Oh," you nod gently and pick up your previous pace, bouncing on him. 

"I'll know when something's wrong, but practically all he wants is for you to keep using him the way you did before," he tells you between pants before speaking up again. "Min, you're okay?" he asks, and Minho needs a moment before reacting to his voice and squeezing his hand. 

Minho feels like he's floating, heart bursting with joy to be used by Chan and you. His needy moans turn into tiny, weak whimpers, and Chan's hand feels heavy in his. He can hear your voices through a heavy fog, feeling safe as you two talk to him. 

Your stomach tightens at the sight of Minho being so fucked out he can't respond besides squeezing Chan's hand. "I'm so close," you tell Chan. 

"Cum whenever you're ready, beautiful," Chan encourages you, chasing his own high. 

You desperately roll your hips and reach down, toying with your clit to give yourself that last push. Chan gently encourages you, guiding you through it as you cum with a loud groan of their names. Minho beneath you whines as you clench around him repeatedly, shaking on top of him. "Fuck, Chan," you whisper once you start to get overstimulated, and Minho's eyes fill with tears. 

"Kiss his neck for me, baby girl, let's help him out," he says soothingly. 

You lie down on Minho, still keeping him inside, and gently litter his skin with kisses that have him humming appreciatively. The force of Chan's thrusts and Minho's weak attempts to push back make you bounce on his dick, moaning against his neck. Chan behind you grows quiet, his once-controlled pace gets messy, and you can tell he's close. "Come on, Channie hyung," you moan out softly. "Let go." 

Chan spills into Minho with a long, loud groan, slamming his hips inside of him roughly. "Fuck, yeah," he growls, and Minho suddenly tenses up, tears slipping from his eyes as his face scrunches up in pleasure. 

A loud sob ripples through him, and you can feel him coating your walls. Continuous weak little moans leave him as you two help him through it, and he can do nothing but enjoy the pleasure coursing through his body. 

Chan pulls out very carefully, and Minho whimpers at the loss. He lifts you off his dick, and that's when Minho reacts.

"Hyung, no, please," he cries, grabbing your arm. "Don't go." 

Chan soothingly rubs his side. "We're here, baby, you're okay."

You get comfortable on his left and Chan on his right. You both cuddle him close, soothingly fondling his hair and body, whispering sweet nothings to him. "You're so pretty, darling," you whisper. 

"You did such a good job, Minho baby," Chan adds, and Minho closes his eyes, cuddling into the two of you. Chan seems to know exactly how to coax him back out, and you do your best to support him. Once he's sure Minho's alright, he exchanges a glance with you. "We should go and clean up," he says, and you nod tiredly. 

Chan prepares the bathtub for the three of you and carries you there first, helping you into the warm water. He kisses your forehead and smiles fondly. "I'll go get Min." 

"Okay," you smile softly. 

He gently lowers Minho into the water with you before getting in himself. He pulls Minho into his lap, who cuddles up against him tiredly. You cuddle into Chan’s left side, resting your head on his chest next to Minho’s. Minho’s hand finds yours in the warm water, easing your bodies. For a while, you all simply relax in silence before Chan and you help Minho washing his hair and body for him. Chan then does the same for you, and you’re ready to sleep once he’s done. You’re amazed at how quickly Chan has the two of you in bed, comfortably dressed and hair dried. Minho clings to you as Chan leaves you to finish up himself, and you lazily fondle his hair.

Chan smiles softly at the sight of you two, all cuddled up and waiting for him. His curls are still damp from rushing a little to take care of you as soon as possible. As soon as he climbs into bed, the two of you are clinging to him, having him chuckle, and his heart swell with pride. He kisses both your heads and whispers to you how much he loves you, telling you to sleep. Neither Min nor you need a second invitation, dozing off quickly, trusting Chan to keep you safe in your sleep.

PART FOUR

MASTERLISTS | PROMPT LIST | GUIDELINES

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[likedovesinthewindd]

peter parker wirh a black cat! gf (blinks and flutters eyelashs)

of course dear. i decided to write a few ideas down instead of like a fic i hope you don't mind.

peter parker x fem!reader

★ You've heard just about every rumor concerning you. The ideas that people had about you and how they perceived you. You were often described as mean-looking, intimidating or even off-putting.

★ You didn't try correcting them either, it didn't particularly bother you. It bothered Peter, though. He'd always tell you how he didn't like the way people saw you, and made it his daily mission to correct any person unfortunate enough to say anything bad about you in his presence.

★ He defended your honor better than you did yourself, and in return he'd always get the same replies:

"She seems so mean, though." "What do you two have in common anyway?" "Does she ever talk?"

★ Yes, he'd think. You do talk, a lot actually, though that was usually reserved for your closest friends and family, a group Peter fortunately found himself in. He knew everyone else knew she talked too, they'd see her talking with Peter every morning when they make their way through school, her soft hand in his as she rambled about whatever lay heavy on her heart.

★ And he'd listen attentively, giving pointers where he thought necessary and laughing at the joke or two you'd always throw in. He'd walk you to whatever class you have, greeting you goodbye with a chaste yet affectionate hug. You'd spare him a small smile, and as soon as you made your way into class, the smile would disappeared, giving those around you slight whiplash at the sudden change.

★ A party wasn't something you often found yourself at, the idea alone enough to deter you completely. You much rather preferred the company of your boyfriend, him being one of the few people you enjoyed being around. In this way you were similar, because he himself wasn't the most social person around and he understood that you didn't always want to be around a lot of people, so he'd never say no to night in with his favorite person.

★ He brought the best out of you; one of the few people fortunate enough to experience your unabashed humor and personality, and relish in your affection--reserved just for him. In return he doted on you; dousing you in an ocean of unconditional love and utter adoration. Perhaps this was his way of telling you he admired you, just as you are; regardless of whoever's opinion of you. Because in all honesty, when did Peter ever care about anyone's opinion?

a/n: might write a bit more on this bc this is so little.