#with like minimal editing was a big blow for me

[thecapricunt1616]

The Bear & His Honey ; Chapter 8 -

♡ Chapter Inspo: Lyrics - (TS) Slut! (1989TV!) ;  “You’re not sayin’ you’re in love with me, but you’re going to, half awake taking your chance it’s a big mistake, it might blow up in your pretty face I’m not saying do it anyway, but you’re going to”  ♡♡》》𝟙𝟠+ 𝕆ℕ𝕃𝕐 𝔽𝕀ℂ! ℕ𝕆 𝕄𝕀ℕ𝕆ℝ𝕊 𝔸𝕃𝕃𝕆𝕎𝔼𝔻《《♡♡ ♡ Summary: Carm + Winnie have an evening in together. They get wine drunk and have slightly spiritual talk over pizza. Winnie talks Carm through a nightmare. Carm gets some much needed rest, Some angsty sex ensues. ♡ W/C: 8,902 ♡ Posted Date: 02/20/24 ♡ A/N: (Kinda TL Don't have to read) Hayy besties!! I’ve been lookin' over the fic & judging what y'all like by the chapter likes- ok smut and Soft Dom Carm!! I’m leaning towards Soft Dom Carmy being the main trope for this fic & based on the likes y’all love it too!! He needs to build into it though for sure, Like- i'm not great at writing things close to canon- but what is canon is a pivotal part of what makes up Carmen - which is being severely emotionally underdeveloped in regards to relationships - also sexually. BUT don’t get me wrong- that man is a DOM he just needs a partner who will find that and pull it out of him. Like- y’all I am ALL for the fully anger management therapy version of Carmy tthat'swritten in to one shots here like I THIRST for it- I just want to try and flesh out the journey in between because I find it interesting. But it WILL happen in this fic- as you can tell this fic is a slow burn, its gonna be long, and I know its gonna end with Carmen being fully sexually comfortable (at least with Winnie) so expect some dirty dirty filth, carm is just growin rn okay!! I also find it fun to write kinda virgin! Carmy- I believe its canon he’s never had a gf- but I believe he’d had to have blown off steam some way in NY and hooking up on tinder since it was that time would be popular. Anyhow, enjoy this chapter!  ♡ Warnings for BTC: Minimally edited, talks of spiritualism, vomiting, talks of PTSD/Panic Attacks, Sad!Carm, Fluff, (Kinda asshole) But mostly insecure!Carm, Smut! (Talks of it- oral (m) , kissing, etc just slutty shit) 

➵ 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 ♡

➵ 𝐂𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐮𝐩 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 ♡

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The pizza had gotten there pretty quickly but considering the time of night, that was to be expected. Carmen had been sure to order Pepperoni with extra cheese per my request, and by the time the delivery driver had knocked on the door, we had already finished off my entire bottle of wine and I was in the kitchen opening another. He returns to where we had set up in the living room, putting the steaming pizza box on the coffee table. “No way- you need to finish that story, you can't just answer ‘why do you believe in angels’ with ‘I met a guy when I worked at Dunkin’ Donuts and we had breakfast every day until he died’ and that’s just… the end of the story,” he said and I laughed, coming back with 2 very full glasses of Rose and setting them down. 

“That is the whole story, you mean you want the long detailed version?” I set down the 2 paper plates and paper towel roll I was holding under my arm. “Yes.. Please- how was this man an angel?” he snorted, his face flush from the alcohol as I could easily assume mine was. “Okay… his name was Harold, he came in every day, and one day, well” I took a bite of my pizza. “Like I said - my parents, they were never married. My Mom was a twin, but her sister died when they were babies- anyhow” I took another bite, realizing he was listening intently.

“Um.. yeah..” I swallow “So, my dad like- wanted nothing to do with us really, I mean- we met him a few times but… we were just like I dunno, puppies or something? Like, my dad didn’t want us, but my mom was all religious- anyway… wait- what was I saying?” I asked and he started laughing, “Fuckin, Dunkin Donuts man, Harold?” He said and I nodded, catching my breath from laughing at my own drunk rambles. “Yess! Okay, so that's why- we had no money! And with Chris and all his appointments and everything, my mom had even less money, so when I was 14 I got a job to be able to buy stuff, so anyway, I was working a shift.” I took another bite of my pizza before a large sip of my wine.

“And the angel… flew in to buy his coffee?” he teased and I nudged him with my foot. “Shut up! He’s actually the coolest person ever just listen!” I said and he nodded, going in for his second slice of pizza. “I was working a shift, and this man comes in… he looked really sick and he was like ‘ oh can I get something to eat I don’t have any money’ or whatever so I didn’t have any money to spare obviously and so I got my manager thinking this is a huge fuckin’ company - yanno being an idiot teen - and my manager was like ‘oh sorry dude can’t help you’ and so…” I took another sip of my wine before continuing.

“I took my 4.25 that I was gonna use for lunch, I figured whatever, cause this dude needs it- he looked really sick, and that he needed to eat. and I remembered, my mom always said you do things when you can cause when the lord sends his angels to test you they aren't in a suit” I shrug and his eyebrows raised. “You gave him your lunch money?” he said and I shrugged “Mmhmm, anyway- not the point this is the point, Carm, so he leaves, right? Harold comes in, he gets his regular black coffee. Goes and sits down at one of the tables by himself, he drinks it all like he usually does, just watching- waiting almost, and before he goes to leave, he comes up to the counter, and guess what he does?” I asked and he shrugs, waiting for me to continue.

“He hands me, four fucking dollars, and twenty-five cents” I exaggerate each number and his eyes widen, “what the fuck” he muttered. “And I’m like ‘ Harold, why are you given’ me this?’ And he’s like ‘Oh I don’t know honey, I just figured you can use a pick me up today’ “ I took another bite of my pizza and he stopped chewing. “That… is fucking nuts,” he said and chuckled a bit and shook his head.

“And then, every day, we’d sit on my first break and he’d tell me stories about his life, the wars he’d been in, his daughters, his wife before she died, and when he stopped comin’ his daughter came in - she told me that he told her to tell me that he wasn’t doing well and that’s why he hadn’t been by- so I went and visited him in the hospital, got to say goodbye, he was so awesome, and he would do that sort of thing all the time- whenever someone needed something Harold was just… there ya know? It’s like God..or something sent him in at a different time every morning to help someone out even in the smallest ways, He was an angel” I said and Carm nodded, putting his plate down and finishing off his own wine. 

“Well, now that you didn’t make it sufferingly short, I see why you think that. I’d probably believe in angels too if somethin’ like that happened” He said and I dusted my hands over my empty plate before setting it down on the table. “So you’ve never had an experience like that?” He shrugged looking up while he thinks before shaking his head. 

“Nope. Maybe you’re just magical” he pokes my nose causing me to giggle. “I think you” I poke his nose back “are drunk, and we both need to go to bed. Cmon those blankets I put in the dryer went off a few minutes ago. Let's brush our teeth before they get cold” I got up and grabbed our glasses and he took the trash “At least let me help you a little” he said and I smiled. “Such the gentleman.” I teased and he followed me into the kitchen. 

I pointed to show him where the ziplocks were and put the cups in the dishwasher, taking the  box to the entryway and leaving it to bring to the recycling in the morning. “Oh uhhh…I sleep…with the um-“ I started “rain sounds?” He chuckled a bit, stretching his back. “Mmhmm…” I nodded. “So uh…is that ok?” I asked and he nods “no problem for me”

I turn around and head in the bathroom turning on the light “I assume you didn’t bring a toothbrush, or are we that close already?” I teased and he snorts. “No…I did not. Got an extra?” He asks and I open my bathroom closet “you’re in luck, Sadie’s soon to be sister in law is a dental hygienist” I pull out 2 from my thick stack Sadie had put on me when she came over since she had so many laying around her house. 

“Are you a green or blue boy?” I asked and he pouted playfully “no Spider-Man?” He jokes and I giggle. “Blue it is” I put the green one back and popped open the blue one, handing it to him and turning on the sink, wetting my pink electric toothbrush. I put on my anti-cavity toothpaste and handed it over to him, he did the same putting some on his brush. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll time you” I said and he raised his eyebrow “what?” He asked and I turned on my toothbrush, giving him a smug smile before popping the brush in my mouth. Every 30 seconds I mumbled ‘next quadrant!’ With a small smile until the 2 minutes was up, spitting my toothpaste out and brushing my tongue as he did the same before rinsing my mouth and shutting off the water. 

By the time we got in bed and shut the light off, Persephone had well found her spot between my legs, purring softly as she groomed herself for the night and I opened my phone, going to tik tok. Carm spoons me from behind, nuzzling his face in my shoulder with his arm wrapped around my waist. “What’re we watchin’ babe?” He mumbled and I smile. 

“My nightly dose of giggles” I said and scrolled down my for you page, stopping on a video from ‘Secret Brittany’ and my eyes locking on the screen. 

Okay guys, lock in alright? This is the plan - the military planning for the next 2-4 months of my life 

Carm lets out a snort in to my neck, his hand traveling up and down my ribs as he watches with me. 

I’m not going to move to Ireland- yet. I’m going to purchase bumble premium in Ireland, and I’m going to march with Irish men who want me - caveat, they want me, then, I’m going to move, and live my faerie dream 

I giggled, “me” I said quietly to myself and he pinches my waist gently causing me to giggle more “you?! You’re not goin’ anywhere I dunno’ what you’re talkin’ about” he held me tighter, nuzzling his nose deeper in to the crook of my neck. “Is someone whiny and jealous? I’m sure with my red hair and thick hips I’d have guys lining up for me” I teased and laced my fingers with his. 

He let out a bratty huff “I know that’s why you aren’t allowed to go” he muttered into my skin, causing me to smirk as I scrolled on to the next nonsense video. I gasped as I realized I had forgotten about getting to the next part of my absurd series about some woman divorcing her lying husband and looked up her account and Carm leans in a little closer. 

“Wait…” he muttered softly as I scroll through, trying to find the last video I left on. “Who the fuck did I marry…52 parts Winnie?!” He snorts and I giggle “Carmen- shut up, shhh your brain. Get engrossed.” I said and went all the way back to the first part and I glance down at him. 

“You know I’ve watched 23 parts but I’ll rewatch- cause you have to see this, and know-“ I lean in so our foreheads were touching and giggle a bit. “I’m scared” he said playfully causing me to laugh more. “Know Carmen -whatever your middle name is- Berzatto, I will always sniff out a lie- I will do my diligence- hear me?” I huff a laugh and he kisses my lips tenderly. 

“I would never dream of lying to you” he said honestly before continuing. “I may not tell you everything at once, but I’ll never misguide you, yeah?” He said softly and gently cups the back of my head with his warm hand. I nodded softly against him. “Yeah…” I whisper and kiss his forehead. “My middle names Anthony” he said with a small smile. “Mines - basic. Ok, Now listen to this bullshit” I giggle a bit and turn back around, hitting play. 

It was about 3 parts (30 minutes) of Carmen softly gasping, playing with the hem of my shirt in anticipation, and humming in confusion before I heard the first snore come from his lips. I hit pause on the video, putting on my rain asmr sounds on Spotify and gently plugged my phone in, setting my alarms before drifting off into a peaceful, relaxed sleep. 

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I woke up to the sounds of violent retching in my bathroom, I rubbed my eyes, confused for a moment before remembering that Carmen had slept over. I padded out to the kitchen, opening the fridge and grabbing my brita jug, before opening my cabinet and grabbing one of the many different glasses that fit a bamboo lid and glass straw, this certain one adorned with cherries. I gently pushed the cup under the ice dispenser, letting a few cubes drop in before filling the cup with chilled water. 

I pushed the lid and straw on, popping the Brita back in the fridge before padding back to the bathroom, where I heard dry heaving from outside the slightly cracked door. “Carmy?” I mutter softly, pushing the door further open to see him crouched over the toilet, elbows supporting him as he gagged over the bowl. 

“S-sorry.” He muttered, coughing a bit before sitting up and trying to catch his breath. “No- no. Carmen, don’t apologize” I knelt down next to him, gently rubbing his back. “I’m not feeling sick.. so was it a nightmare?” I asked softly, extending the water to him. He sat back on the floor, extending his legs in front of him and sighing deeply. 

“I really didn’t mean t’wake you, Winnie. It’s fine…really they happen like every night” he mumbled, taking the glass from my hands. “I have them too! It’s ok, it's ok. S’just a bad dream” I said softly and gently brushed his curls off his forehead that were damp with sweat. He takes a big few gulps of water from the straw, sighing relieved before leaning back and resting on the cold tub. 

“Did you…did you wanna talk about it?” I sat next to him, pulling my knees to my chest and resting my cheek on my knee, glancing at him through the moonlight coming through the window. It was hard to see him without my glasses or contacts, but his striking blue eyes were still impossible to miss. “It’s…” he looked at his hands, holding the glass. “Stupid” he said finally. “So..so stupid. I used to..” he sighs, his head dropping back and eyes squeezing back in thought. 

“Throw up?” He said like a question, shaking his head quickly. “Like” he looked at me “before I’d…see my boss” in the dim light I could still see his cheeks reddening. I bit my lip gently, leaning over and hugging him silently, my head resting on his chest. “I’m sorry” I said softly and he sighed, setting his water glass down and curling his arm around my frame, rubbing gently. “No.. no that’s not- don’t feel bad” he said softly, his thumb rubbing soothing strokes in to the middle of my back. 

I gently shook my head against his chest. “Carmen…” I said softly. “This… this monster…” I said softly and looked up at him, cupping his cheek honestly. “He makes you sick Carmen…what…what he did to you- whatever he did…he creates a panic response in you, baby.” I rub my thumb along the stubble of his jaw that was already peaking out before first light. 

He swallows thickly, drinking in every word I was saying. “He…he…” I look at the floor, trying to find my words. “He instilled that voice in you” I said, my lip quivering slightly and he put his thumb to my lips gently to stop the motion. “What? What voice, honey?” He asked softly. 

I giggled into his finger, still slightly wine-drunk. “Your inner-saboteur. Just like Ru-Paul says” I gently nibble his finger, causing him to really laugh. “My inner-saboteur” he repeated with a smile. “Yes” I said gently and kissed his forehead. “Let him go, Carm, fuck that guy! Fuck your inner-saboteur. I’m still a tad bit drunk, but c’mon- brush your nasty throw-up teeth” I said teasingly and giggle, resting my forehead on his and gazing into his icy blue eyes. 

“And come back to bed, I’ll introduce you to Drag Race tomorrow”  I said softly, pecking his lips tenderly. “Okay?” I gaze into his eyes, looking for agreement. “Okay…” he said softly, a smirk adorning his lips. 

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I wake up to the feeling of Persephone jetting off my right thigh like an Olympic-launching pad at the sound of my alarm going off, soothing chirping birds filling the bedroom from my hatch alarm clock Sadie’s Parents had gotten me as a housewarming gift. I groan softly at the reverberating pain in my thigh muscle from her sudden attack, reaching down and soothing the ache with a slow rub from my hand. 

Carmen was draped around me, his arm tucked protectively around my waist and his prominent nose nuzzled in my neck, the feeling of short, hot breaths hitting my shoulder at an even pace. I gently leaned over, tapping the top of the clock that was slowly getting brighter, so it stopped its cry of awakening, 

I rubbed my face tiredly before I gently pried Carmys sleeping fingers off of my waist, slowly getting up off of the mattress, so as to not wake him. My t-shirt brushed just below my lower cheeks, goosebumps crawling up my legs from the chilly apartment air. I nuzzled my feet into my pink bear-claw slippers, and quietly shuffled out to the kitchen, silently pulling the bedroom door shut behind me.

 I sighed tiredly, stretching my back and arms just at the end of the hall, moaning softly at the blood rushing to my muscles at the action. “Mmhmm” I mumbled at Sephy hungry cries, scratching my scalp in a sleepy haze. 

“Comin’ babygirl” I muttered softly, shuffling out to the kitchen and opening the cabinet, I pulled out a tin full of wet food and cracked it open with my forefinger, taking out a spoon from the drawer. She meowed impatiently, causing my tired eyes to roll up involuntarily.

“Persephone” I muttered, tired but stern. “Jesus Christ should I call ASPCA?” I joked, taking a spoon out of the draw and nudging it closed with my hip quickly before spooning half the can in the bowl and chopping it up half-hazardly, before setting it on the floor with a clink. She dove in, eating like she’d been starved. 

I put a pod in my Nespresso machine, and rested my chin in my hand as my latte brewed, scrolling through my ‘For You’ page, sending a few videos to Sadie that made me stifle a laugh so as to not wake Carm. I opened my fridge, pouring some half and half in to my cup that I’d already filled with ice before pouring my espresso over the top and mixing it up before sealing the lid. 

I shuffled over to the couch, sitting down and continuing to scroll through videos as I sipped my latte. By the time I’d finished it, Persephone was sitting on the cat tree grooming herself in the morning light and the clock read 8:32. I got up, going over to my record player and shuffled through my selection of records, settling on Ctrl by SZA that Syd had gotten me. I bit my lip gently, thinking of her. 

I really hope she wasn’t mad at me…for too long. Thinking back on the conversations she had with us about her ‘boss’ who I now knew was Carm, he could be a serious asshole and he…emotionally led her on in a way? And they never explicitly mentioned their feelings but it sounds like there definitely was feelings..My thoughts are broken by the static of the record as it switches to the next song and Love Galore starts playing. 

I did my usual routine of walking around, pulling open my blinds to let the light in before heading to the kitchen to make breakfast. I washed Sephys bowl and set it on the small drying rack before setting a pan on the stove to heat. I opened the fridge, resting my hands on my hips, and realizing I have no idea what Carmen eats- if he eats breakfast. It’s a Saturday though…I settle on the safe options of eggs and toast. 

I popped 4 pieces of bread into the toaster, humming along to Doves in The Wind while I cracked 4 eggs into a glass measuring cup and whisking them with a fork. I added a little bit of garlic salt and pepper, mixing it again before dropping some butter in the pan and letting it melt. I got out 2 of my pink heart shaped plates and set them down in preparation, before pouring the eggs in the pan. It was quick to scramble so I put the toaster down, and I was shuffling over to the table just as the bedroom door opened. 

Carm genuinely looked refreshed. The bags under his eyes were mostly gone, and his eyes didn’t look red and exhausted. I look over at the clock, 9:22. “Good Morning, Chef. I hope scrambled eggs and butter toast is acceptable? With jelly of course” I went over, clicking off my record player that had stopped spinning a few minutes prior.  “You made breakfast?” He asked, looking over to the table. 

It took all of my strength to keep a casual face at his deep, husky morning voice. “Mmhmm!” I hum and come back to the table and he followed. “Coffee?” I ask and he nods “thank you- wow. I can’t remember the last time I.. actually ate in the morning. What time?-“ he looks over to the stove and his eyebrows raise. “Shit.” He snorts. “I guess your bed was comfortable” he sits. 

I smirk proudly “well I’m glad you’ve enjoyed your stay so far at Winnie’s bed and breakfast” I said and went to the kitchen, opening my cabinet and smiling wide at the perfect mug for him to use. I set it down on the counter, “cream?” I asked opening the fridge. “Yes, What are you cheesin’ about?” He teased and I giggle “somethin’ - just wait” I took out the cream and set it on the counter and popped in an americano pod. 

“Oh! Forks! Sorry. Forgot my meds this morning. Let me go do that” he chuckles as I quickly shuffled off. I go in to the bathroom and took my medications with a handful of sink water before coming back and seeing his coffee was done. “Perfect!” I took it out, putting cream in. “Sugar?” I asked and he shook his head “no” he said and I stirred the coffee, putting the spoon in the sink. 

I carefully come over, covering the art on the mug until I set it down in front of him with a giggle. “A Bear mug for Bear and it has a cute, true saying, ‘A hug a day keeps the lonelies away’ “ I giggled. “See that one’s me,” I point to the smaller one, “and that’s you,” I pointed to the bigger one “cause’ you give teddy-bear hugs” I smiled. He looks up at me, his blue eyes sparkling in the morning light, an adorable smirk on his face. 

“You…” he starts and shakes his head, pulling me into his lap and I giggle, wrapping my arms around his neck loosely to steady myself. He kisses all over my face, causing giggles to involuntarily fall from my lips and my eyes to squeeze shut at the quick short pecks that tickled like butterflies, my heart fluttering the same way in my chest. “Are so fucking cute” he hugs me close and I giggled, wrapping my arms around him. 

“Thank you” he kissed my neck sweetly before releasing me and I got up. “Wow, an ambush, I do take payment in kisses but warn me so I can count!” I joked, sitting down in my seat and he rolled his eyes playfully, a pink blush adorning his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. “Forks!” I said and he laughed, shaking his head again. 

“Does that happen all the time?” He asked and I nod, heading over to the drawer and grabbing 2 forks. “Yup. It’s worse if I don’t have my meds” I put his fork in front of him. “Hope it’s ok” I said and sit down “no- this is…this is great Winnie, thank you really” he said taking a bite and nodding. “5 stars Chef” he said and I laughed before taking a bite of mine. 

“Mmhmm totally I’m coming for your spot! Better get worried these eggs’ll put you out of business” I joked and he snorted, taking a sip of his coffee. “Mm- I think Starbucks should be a little scared” he teased and I giggle a bit, nibbling on my toast. “That’s all Nespresso that thing is amazing” 

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When we finished breakfast, Carm takes our plates and his mug over to the sink and starts washing them, along with the pan I’d used. “Wow…he cooks and cleans? You sure you aren’t taken already?” I joked, wiping down the table with a Lysol wipe. He chuckled “nope, haven’t gotten any serious offers” he joked back with a smile. 

“Did you wanna see my little library craft room thing?” I asked, throwing the wipe away in the garbage. He puts the now clean dishes on the drying rack. “Course, what do you…craft?” He asked, following me to the second bedroom and I opened the door. “Oh..lots of things. I sew,crochet,read, make jewelry, I paint sometimes” I shrugged and he looked around at all the half finished projects. 

“This is cute” he hummed, picking up a half finished star and moon granny square blanket off the back of my pink desk chair. “Oh! That’s for Syd’s birthday!! She’s such an astrology girl, it's one of those things we can talk about forever.” I smiled and he nods a bit. “Why haven’t you ever come around more? The uh- the restaurant” He asked as he looked over the intricate stitches and I shrugged, picking up stray crochet needles scattered on my desk and putting them in the little drawer where they belonged. 

“Oh.. well Sadie and I - it’s kinda fancy for one thing, and umm..we don’t like people and it’s been busy for months “ I laugh a bit “fancy huh?” He teased, setting the blanket back down and walking over to the wall of pictures I had next to my overflowing bookshelf. “It has been pretty busy” he said as he gazed over the different memories of girls trips Sadie and I had taken as well as pictures of nights out with Syd. 

“Also as you can probably tell- Sadie and I do not belong in a cool fancy place like that” I giggled and he shook his head rolling his eyes playfully with a smile. “I don’t either but it’s what brings the business right?” He looked over the books. “Damn, you read a lot” he said and I giggled. “Mmhmm! Work at a bookstore” I said and he pulled one of my most well loved books out, “this one of your slutty books?” He teased and I roll my eyes. 

“Ha.ha. No- this is an amazing book, you’re saying you’ve never read this book?” I took it from his hands. “My brother gave it to me” I said and flipped to the second blank page where ‘From Chris To Twinnie’ was scribbled in his chicken scratch handwriting. His eyebrows raised. “Oh…no- no. Never heard of it.” He said and my jaw dropped. “Never heard of The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane” I scoff a big smile coming to my face. 

“Okay, so, now I see” I nod, holding the book to my chest with a teasing smirk on my face. “See what?” He asked “I see why you…I dunno” I shrug. “Don’t like to have fun “ I poke his chest and he scoffs. “I have fun I am totally fun!! Are you saying I’m boring?” He asks, slightly offended and I laugh. “No! I’m saying that… the whole point of this book is that life, our journey to self discovery is useless if you have no intention of loving or being loved.” He raised his eyebrows before starting to laugh. 

“A rabbit said that?” He questioned and I shook my head “no he learned it. C’mon let me do skincare on you and read it you’ll love it” I said and he blushed a bit. “Why do I have bad skin?” He joked with a teasing smile. “No you have nice skin but let me take care of it” I said and led him to the bathroom by his hand, getting out my face wash “wash your face with this” I said and turned the water on warm, and grabbed a clean face towel from the cabinet with embroidered strawberries on the hem. “dry your face with this” I instructed. 

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I gently put on the sparkly under eye patches under Carm’s eyes and he scrunched his nose adorably. “The fuckin’ hell why do you do this” he muttered “feels like a slug” he said causing me to giggle “oh my god such a boy. This will make your pretty blue eyes much more noticeable without all the darkness from never sleeping” I gently smoothed them out, booping his nose with the tip of my finger when I was done. 

“Mm whatever you say this is Winnie’s Salon after all” he says and I tut “no! This is Winnie’s beauty parlor. I'm not cutting your hair today” I said and his eyes fluttered open, looking up at me with a small smile. “They look pretty on you” he said, causing me to blush. “You’re a big flirt” I gently played with his hair and his eyes fluttered back shut, humming softly in satisfaction. “Did you want me to read to you?” I asked and his smile grew. 

“Please. It’s been a long time actually, I’m excited to hear about this rabbit” he said and I grab the book from next to us, opening to the first page and starting. 

“Chapter One” 

By the end of the first page, he was glancing up at me, watching me speak each word and smiling slightly when I did slightly different voices for each character. At the end of the first chapter, I close the book and he pouts a bit. “What? No keep going, that was getting cute…she loves that bunny” he said and I giggle. “Yes she does, if you want to hear the next chapter you have to come see me again. Plus, I’m getting hungry” 

I peeled his eye patches off, gently rubbing in the remnants with my ring fingers and he smiled softly. “Mm…you cook breakfast, pamper me, and read to me? I think this is my new hang-out spot for Saturdays” he jokes and I giggle a bit. “Good, so next Saturday you’ll get to see what happens in the next chapter.” I said and he sat up, sitting against the headboard next to me. 

“Sounds like a steal for me” he smiled adorably, his skin still glowing from the serum I’d applied. I looked at his lips, then back at his eyes before straddling his hips and kissing him deeply. He hesitantly moves his hands to my hips and rubs with his thumbs gently. I kiss down his jaw over his stubble to his neck, nipping gently and he groans softly “Winnie” he said, gripping my hip a bit tighter. I gently tug on his ear with my teeth. “I think it’s hot you’re such a talented chef and like when I cook for you” I said softly in his ear, gently tangling his curls in my fingers as I continue to kiss and nip his neck. 

I grind my hips on his and he moaned softly “Winnie.” He said softly, moving his hand to my back “I-i…” he swallowed thickly and I stopped, sitting up and looking at him. “What? Did I..did I do something wrong?” I asked. He shook his head, refusing to meet my eyes. “I-I don’t…we shouldn’t” he rubs over his chin, thinking. 

“Do you…regret last night?” I asked, getting off his lap and sitting crisscross beside him on the bed. He shook his head again “no- god no that was fuckin’ amazing Winnie I-“ he blushed, looking down at his lap. “I’ve uh never…” he cleared his throat, his eyes squeezing shut in embarrassment. “I- I’m surprised I lasted that long with you- a-and…I’ve never done that before..what we did in the shower and I’m still- I’m thinkin’ about it” he swallowed thickly, finally looking at me and I nodded slowly. 

“Okay…I think we should talk more about our sexual experiences” I said and bit my lip. His face goes pale, his mouth opening and closing a few times like he was trying to find the words. “Uh- I” he stuttered. “I’ll go first…what uh- what do you wanna know?” I asked casually and play with the hem of my shirt. “Uh- well..that’s- I don’t… I don’t know a lot” he said quietly, clearly embarrassed by the way his eyes darted away from mine again. 

“Okay so…how about this then. I’ve slept with 24 people, including you. But most of the bulk of those were back home, I’ve slept with you and one other person since I’ve been here, how many have you been with?” I asked and his eyes widen. “Twenty four?” He repeats, his mouth dropping slightly. I scoff “what so guys can sleep with 100 women by the time their 24 but I can’t sleep with 2 people a year over the course of nearly 10 years?!” I asked my tone laced with annoyance. 

He shook his head quickly “no-n-no Winnie no…I’ve….ive slept with less then 8 people…I’ve had sex like…maybe…” he took a deep breath, looking away and swallowing thickly “I don’t- I don’t like this game anymore or- or questions. Or whatever” he said his cheeks going red. I bite back a laugh at the irony of him being so insecure by holding my tongue between my teeth and I gently touch his bicep. “Look at me” I said softly and he shook his head inching away from my touch a bit. 

“Carmen. When I said no one has made me cum like that- I mean it. I was fully seeing stars bro I was shaking Carm.” I laughed and he looked over, eyebrows raising. “You really meant that?” He asked and I roll my eyes playfully. “I wasn’t even gonna fuck you a second ago I was gonna suck your dick because I’m sore. Literally yes you’re amazing Carmen you’re so fucking hot.” I said and he bit his lip, looking at his lap. 

“But I can’t…like- when…when we were in the shower” he muttered “that was-“ he swallowed thickly “I’ve never…I’ve never had sex in the shower before and-“ he sighs deeply. “I don’t want to get attached.” He looks at me finally, and I was silent for a moment, my brain filing through all the possible things he could mean. I settled on the safest response that would have the least possible chance of rejection. “Like- you don’t want tooo…” I questioned and he raised his eyebrows waiting for me to continue. 

“To get attatched to fucking me on your days off?” I question and he rolls his eyes, shaking his head. “Winnie” he muttered, slightly annoyed. “That’s not what I mean Y’know that” he said and I bit my lip. “Tell me what you mean then, Carmen” I said and he looked up at me. He stared at me for what felt like forever, studying me, my features, I tried my best to decipher what was going on behind his eyes but only a week of knowing each other I was rolling blanks. 

“I don’t want to get attached to this. Winnie, to you. I don’t want to do this, we can’t do this.” He shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest and the small change in body language felt like an ocean of distance was suddenly created between us emotionally. My mouth suddenly felt dry, and my throat was growing an enormous lump. “Why” I finally choke out and he looks back at me. “Because I told you, Winnie, I’m not boyfriend material. What this” he motions between the 2 of us “Is, can’t keep going like this. Fuckin’ cuddling and shit..” 

I felt like I wanted to burst out into tears, not more than 20 minutes ago he was dreamily looking up at me while I read to him and now he was telling me that he won’t allow himself to be around me, and relax. “Oh” I scoff, my eyes narrowing and crossing my arms over my own chest. 

“You are such a little baby,” I said and his eyebrows furrow, “what?” He asked. “A little fucking. Baby.” I repeat myself and he blinks a few times, “What the fuck do you mean?” He asked and I got up. “You are an angry baby, because you realize that I have more experience in the bedroom!” I laugh dryly. “Carmen. You knew what you were getting yourself into. You want this. Look at me, and tell me the last fucking time you relaxed on your day off? Hm?” I raise my eyebrows, shrugging and waiting for an answer. 

“You don’t fucking know me, Winnie” he scoffs. “I don’t- I don’t give a fuck that you have more experience than I do. Clearly, it wasn’t with anyone good! Per your fuckin statement 5 minutes ago.” I shook my head. “You’re right! You’re right Carmen. I was begging for your cock- and you wanna know something? You loved it. You were pussy drunk, Carmen, you- you are just so fucking obsessed with depriving yourself of joy, of pleasure that instead of allowing yourself to fuck me you’d rather be in your apartment all alone and cum in your hand? Fine. Have fun” I shrugged, motioning to the bedroom door. 

He sat there, jaw dropped. “You-“ he closed his eyes in shock, shaking his head as he digested what I just said to him. “You are so-“ he sighed, looking at me and his eyes flicker to my chest. I smirk, “fuck. Im gonna fucking hate myself this week. C’mere” he said and I knelt on the bed, straddling him once more and kissing him deeply. I pushed him back on the bed roughly. “Tell me you don’t want me” I said and peel off my shirt, exposing my breasts and already peaked nipples shining with their little black studs, already hardened due the adrenaline coursing through me. 

“Fuck off Winnie you know I fucking want you” he grabs my breast, playing with my nipple gently and I bit my lip. “I haven’t even showed you half of what I can do- and you’re gonna throw the towel so soon?” I rest my palms on his shoulders for leverage as I ground into his hips, the friction causing his eyes to flutter shut and his head to fall back onto the pillow in a low whimper. 

“N-no- no you’re right. You’re right Winnie fuck” he moaned, gently tugging at my jewelry causing me to gasp in pleasure. I kiss him hard, circling my hips into his at a torturously slow pace causing him to whimper and groan into my mouth which made a small smile come to my lips. I pulled away slightly, our lips barely an inch away. 

“Do you want me to suck your cock?” My eyes flutter to his, my hips completely still. His breath quivers “yes” he said barely above a whisper. “Tell me, say it, Carmy. What do you want?” I ask and kiss his neck tenderly. “I-I want you t-to” he swallows thickly when I nip at the tender spot below his ear. “I want you to suck my cock” he said, eyes fluttering shut and cheeks going red. I smirk, happy with the admission, but still unsatisfied with the way he was denying himself. 

“Okay baby, since you asked so nice, like such a good boy” I said, his lip tugging between his teeth and

I kissed down his chest, his abs tightening when I made my way over them, my tongue dragging slowly down the divot in the middle. He watches me with hooded eyes, hands gripping the sheets so tightly his knuckles were turning white, his chest raising up and down deeply at a quick rate as he watches me worship him. 

I straddle his calves, gently rubbing his fully hardened length through his sweatpants and he whines softly “please-please Winnie” he breathed impatiently. I smirked, my hands rubbing long teasing strokes up and down his thighs. “Do you really want me to suck your cock, Carmen?” I asked and he swallows thickly. “Winnie” he wined, looking away and his cheeks heating. 

I stopped touching him and my hands raised to my breasts, gently palming and squeezing them before playing with my hard nipples and my head dropping back as I moaned. “You don’t want me, baby?” I asked and his hand traveled to his pants and I stopped him, grabbing his wrist. “Do you want me Carmen?” I asked, taking his hand and putting his forefinger and ring finger in my mouth, my tongue swirling around them and hollowing my cheeks at the base of his hand. 

He bit his lip harshly as I did so. “So so fucking bad.” He said softly, I pulled off his fingers with a ‘pop’ and tugged him out of his boxers, leaning down and spitting the puddle of saliva I had collected in my mouth while sucking on his fingers and pump his length with the wetness, twisting and getting it all wet. “Holy fucking shit” he mumbled, a moan falling from his lips and his head falling back momentarily but he was quick to put his eyes back on me. 

“Does that feel good baby?” I ask sweetly, my thumb brushing over his tip. He nods “shit- yes s-so good baby” his abs clenched in pleasure as I slowly dragged my thumb over his slit teasingly. “Mmm the noises you make are so sexy baby I love it” my other hand dances around his stomach, my nails brushing the toned skin causing him to shiver slightly. 

“Oh you adorable thing” I said and leaned down, kissing his tip gently and his head drops back, a breathy moan falling from his lips, his knee jerking slightly under me. I stuck out my tongue, slowly licking his tip from the back of my throat all the way to the tip of my tongue, flicking it teasingly causing him to whimper beautifully. “You have such a nice cock baby” I praised, pumping him slowly, twisting my hand how I knew he liked based on the way his stomach would tense when I did it repeatedly. 

I look up at him, his cheeks, bright red, curls stuck to his forehead in sweat, “do you like it when I tug harder” I did so and he whines “or softer?” I went back to my original firmness and he breathed out, I could tell no one had really ever given him this kind of attention during a blow job before- so I was relishing in the fact that no matter if he did claim to hate himself this week, every time he came after a long day it would be at the thought of me. So I’m pulling out every stop, every theatric - I’m going to make this magical. 

I was already fucking him dumb and I had barely used my mouth yet. We had a lot of work to do, to mold him into the kind of partner I knew he yearned to be. And whether we continued to pretend to be ‘friends with benefits’ while he learned, or he decided he wanted more- I didn’t care. Because I knew this man wanted to dominate, and I was dedicated to getting it out of him. 

When I got no verbal response my hand stopped moving and I gently tap the head of his cock against my tongue getting his attention. “Words.” I said softly, smiling sweetly as I waited for a response. “Hard. H-hard. Please.” He said and I continued as he requested and he grunts “fuck yes…mmm twist baby like-“ he moans louder when I oblige. “Yes. Yes.” he breathed and I smirked, moving my hand faster. 

“Good boy, I love it when you tell me what feels good” I said and my hand that was on his stomach travels to his v-line, my forefinger soothingly stroking as I took his tip in my mouth, he lets out the hottest noise between a moan and a cry that I’d heard a man make, before I heard the sounds of the fabric beginning to give beneath his death grip. I pulled my lips off and stopped my hand from jacking him off, taking my hand off his stomach and pulling my hair out of the bun it was in. 

His eyes shot open as soon as I stopped, a small gasp tumbling from his lips as my tight curly bangs fell over my forehead, when they were blown out they were the 80s look I loved to achieve with my hair- but my bangs were extra curly naturally since they weren’t weighed down like the rest of my hair and I’d gotten it wet last night. I pushed it off my shoulders, taking his hand and putting it on my head. “Go as hard as you want. I’ll squeeze you twice if it’s too much.” I said and started again before he could reply. 

He whined hotly as I took him down inch by inch until he was lightly hitting the back of my throat, he was mostly just stroking the back of my head but when he felt me swallow around his tip it was like something in him flicked on. He grips the back of my hair “f-fuck- god do that again- fuck do it again Winnie” he said, pushing my head down gently. I closed my eyes, saying a silent and quick prayer to every god ever that I’d fully digested my breakfast, and that my gag reflex had gotten much better since trying to train it with my toothbrush before bed the past few years. 

I took a deep breath, before fully relaxing my throat and pushing his tip past my tastebuds and I gently stroke his thighs, more to soothe myself that I could do it, before pushing deeper. He cries out, moaning what sounded more like a pleasured growl, his fingers tugging my hair lightly. I knew I had to stop pushing before I either hurt myself or actually gag and embarrass myself. I swallowed around him slowly, my throat fluttering around him for a few moments. 

I feel his muscles all tense beneath me, his abs tightened, stomach clenched, fingers digging into my scalp, eyes screwed shut, veins protruding in his neck. He would be cumming in the next few seconds so - I stopped. I pull off, sitting up, a string of saliva pulling from his cock to my lips as I did so. My lips swollen, jaw sore, chin and neck slick with saliva. I smirked as he gasps, his orgasm flowing away like dandelion seeds in the breeze and he looked at me, his pupils blown with lust. 

“W-why. Why did you stop?” He asked, he almost sounded angry. I shrug, “do you deserve to cum, Carm? You you deserve to feel good?” My fingers dance around his stomach and v line causing goosebumps to appear on his skin and his cock twitches, aching to be touched. “Please Winnie, fucking- let me finish” he grumbled, looking at the ceiling. 

“Let you” I scoff. “Do you even think you deserve that. Carmen? Hm? Put enough hours in this week? Plan enough new catering orders?” I taunt, goading him into showing me any thread of dominance in him I could tug on. He looks at me, his eyes darkening “suck my fucking cock. Winnie.” he ordered and I smirk. “Ooo, making demands now, I only serve those who deserve it” I drag my forefinger from his balls to his tip, smiling at the reaction of his stomach clenching and cock jumping in a twitch. 

“I deserve it” he grumbled, not meeting my eyes. “Hm?” I hum, ghosting my hand around his cock but not gripping it. “I said I fucking deserve it” he looks into my eyes as he said it. I lean down taking him back in my mouth and he sighs in relief, I pump the bottom half of his length as I take him back into my throat. It was barely 2 minutes of him spilling profanity, muttering my name, whines and moans, and only swallowing around him 2 times before I felt him fully tense up again, and an enormous load shot down the back of my throat, so much that I had to swallow 2 times after pulling off of him to get it all down.  

“Holy shit” I laugh taking a deep breath and he was laid there, trying to catch his breath “sorry” he said between breaths, eyes blissfully shut and cheeks flushed as well as his chest from his release. “No its…it’s fine just. Holy shit. You just dumped a generation down my throat” I joked and he laughs lightly.  

I quickly fix his boxers and laid next to him after pulling my shirt back on. “How the fuck did you do that?” He asked and I shrug a bit, pushing my hair behind my shoulders. “Dunno. Just tried it. Glad you like it though. How’d it feel?” I asked and he blushed, averting my gaze shyly. “Uh…” he furrows his eyebrows thinking. “Kinda like…your pussy but … like way tighter, and harder if that makes sense.” He looked back at me and I giggle. 

“Hm…ok. It was kinda cool, also really hot, also pretty freaky- when I went to wipe my chin, my hand touched my throat and I felt your dick like…” I giggle, covering my mouth at his shocked expression. “Holy fuck that’s hot” he said and I nod. “Felt weird. I’ll have you feel it next time” I said and yawned a bit, sitting up. 

“I’m gonna brush my teeth then you wanna nap?” I asked and he nodded “I’m not sure why- we’ve done basically nothing but I’m exhausted.” He said and rubs his face. I shrugged, “just your body catching up while it can on rest. I’ll be back.” I said and padded off to the bathroom. 

.·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·

➵ 𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫

[slutforstabbings-archive]

Clean Again

Deleted Chapter: RECKLESS read on AO3 | this weeks' real chapter | tumblr chapter index Reader's aggressive driving excites Corey more than it should. This is a chapter I wrote early on, before the plot was fully worked out. I wound up scrapping the camping trip idea which meant no driving through Atlanta, so this scene had to go, although I did carry over some elements and ideas into the chapters that replaced it. It's also one of the first sex scenes I wrote and has been minimally edited so... go easy on it. THIS CHAPTER CAN BE READ ALONE. If you're not caught up with Clean Again you can read as if it were a oneshot with no worries. 2,485 words contents/warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, car sex, handjob, blow job, kinda subby Corey and dom Reader @rebel-blue @heartrot666 @cordelium @toxicanonymity @hersweetrevenge @futurewife @multifandom--mess @wolvesandvampires @ethanhoewke @yllcm

“Okay, so…” you say to Corey as you sit down at the dinner table next to him, two bottles and two forks in your hands. Corey has learned that this means you’re about to propose an activity to him. “The most exciting weekend of the year is coming up. Two weekends from now.”

He takes a fork and a bottle from you. “What happens on the most exciting  weekend?” he asks. He takes a bite of lo mein. 

“The annual Plymouth Records company camping trip. We close the store for a four day weekend and we all go to a campground in the mountains up by the Tennessee border.” You pat the table excitedly. Corey chews. He loves watching you get excited about things, but he knows you’re about to ask him to go on the trip. “I know you don’t like to go places you don’t have to, I know you don’t like big groups of people, but I just want you to know you’re welcome to come and I’ll miss you all weekend if you don’t.”

“You’ll miss me?” He asks. He tries to sound aloof, but hearing that from you means a lot to him. He misses you whenever you’re not together. Just staying in the living room while you shower and do your hair is hard for him sometimes, but he doesn’t want to hover over you too much. He thought maybe you’d miss him if he disappeared forever, but certainly not if you didn’t see him for just a couple days. Do you miss him during the week when he doesn’t stay the night?

“Yeah I’ll fucking miss you. Especially because everyone else is bringing their partners, I don’t wanna be the 15th wheel.” You laugh but your eyes beseech him.

“I’ll think about it,” he concedes. You give him The Smile. Fuck, he thinks, now I have to go.  

You keep smiling as you start eating, taking a victorious bite of an eggroll. Your gloating is insufferable and adorable. Like when you’re a sore winner at Scrabble. He loves losing to you at Scrabble, and he loves watching you right now. He just hopes against hope that none of your coworkers recognize him, that they don’t ask him too many questions and that they’re really as nice as you say they are. God help him if they’re rude to you in front of him. 

Although he agreed to go on the camping trip, he absolutely would not budge on carpooling. The only person going to be there besides you that he’s ever met before is Veronica, and the idea of starting the weekend trapped in such close quarters with strangers sounds horrible. Plus carpooling means depending on someone else when it’s time to leave. If something goes wrong he wants an exit strategy. You’d rather carpool, it’s part of the tradition. But Corey offers to pay for the gas, and him agreeing to come on the trip at all is such a big deal, you agree to drive without much convincing. 

In the gravel driveway of your apartment building, he gives your car a quick check up. Oil’s good, coolant’s good, could use a little more wiper fluid, but the wipers themselves look alright. All four tires have good air pressure. The thought of sabotaging something under the hood so the two of you can stay home has crossed his mind more than once, disconnecting a hose that could’ve feasibly come undone on its own, or replacing your battery with a dead one from the to-be-recycled pile at work. With some effort he resists the urge. This trip is important to you.

The two of you load the car up with rented camping gear and a massive cooler full of food, and leave early on Friday morning. It’s a beautiful clear day, unseasonably cool for May in the south. Corey doesn’t really remember what the drive through Georgia was like when he first hitched a ride here with that truck driver. He’s surprised how much of it is just endless expanses of nothing, communities barely big enough to be called towns, so far apart there are stretches of road with no exits for 10 miles. The highway is lined on either side with solar farms, bizarre billboards proclaiming Jesus to be alive “beyond a reasonable doubt” as if He’s on trial for it, towering trees choked with kudzu. When you make a pitstop the gas station is just two pumps that must be older than he is, and a decrepit building sporting ads for pizza and hotdogs, bleached nearly white by the sun. The graffiti in the bathroom is so many layers deep it feels like archeologists should be studying it. 

As the green mile markers tick down towards Atlanta, Corey notices something in you shift. You change the playlist coming through the new speakers he installed from quiet, bright indie music, to driving, chugging metal. You lean back in your seat and your eyes darken, your whole face taking on a more closed expression. Your already slightly leaden foot gets heavier, going from your usual 5 miles over the speed limit, to 10 over, to 15. He finds the change curious, until he realizes - you were preparing. Soon the flow of traffic around you is going just as fast. The speed limit on the signs decreases but no one on the highway around you seems to notice, all the cars collectively agreeing on 20 over as the standard speed. He watches in awe as the road rapidly widens, adding a third, a fourth, a sixth lane. 

You dart in and out of the center, never slowing much, overtaking semi trucks and cars with midwestern license plates. God, there’s a weirdly large number of Illinois plates on the road around here. Corey keeps his face turned towards you, partially because he’s captivated by watching you drive in this environment, and partially so he won’t make eye contact with any other drivers or passengers. People who might peer in your window and somehow recognize him through the darkness of the tint he’d so carefully applied.

Then suddenly, you slow almost to a stop. It’s impressive how smoothly you manage to break from 80 miles per hour all the way down to 3. The sea of cars that had been carrying you along at such a brisk pace has come to a crawl. You seek gaps in the traffic and pounce on them like a predator, aligning yourself into spaces tighter than parallel parking spots, sometimes actively forcing the cars behind to let you in. All the while keeping that same glowering expression, turning the music up everytime someone foils your plans or cuts you off, until the groove of the bass seems to replace Corey’s heart beat. 

He never imagined it could be sexy to watch someone drive in traffic. But it’s your huntress thing, all  your tiny daily acts of cunning and violence. You flick your turn signal on and off so casually, barely touching the steering wheel, laser focused but totally relaxed in this situation that would make so many other drivers nervous. He can’t help but reach across the console to put his hand on your thigh, feeling the muscles twitch as you switch rapidly between the pedals. You glance at him out of the corner of your eye and smile. Heat floods his face and he feels himself harden. 

He needs you. He’s suffering so bad, but he can’t interrupt you. It occurs to him you might be showing off. He’s definitely… impressed. Finally the city falls away, and all the extra lanes with it. You almost go back to your default safe driving, but not quite. You stay just a little more reckless than normal. 

“Take the next exit,” he says. 

“We’re pretty close now. You can’t wait?” you say. He’s not sure if you’re pretending or if you really don’t know your peacocking worked on him. 

“No, I can’t wait.” His voice is low and urgent, and he digs his fingers into your thigh a little. He feels you tense up under his grip and he knows you understand him. 

You cross into the right lane and go down a corkscrewing exit ramp. At the bottom of the hill is a barren country road, state route something or other. You stay stopped at the stop sign for 10 full seconds to assess how much traffic is coming through. No cars go by, and none come to stop behind you. You go a little ways down the road until you see a gap in the woods along the shoulder, then back your car into the hole so it’s mostly obscured by the trees. 

“Backseat,” Corey says, already unbuckling his seatbelt and opening his door as you put it in park. You leave the car on and get in the backseat with him.

As soon as your door is closed he’s on top of you. He pulls you close to him with his arms circled around your waist, rotating his hips and hooking his outside leg around both of yours, his tongue pushing into your mouth. You let him maul you for a second before pushing him away. He looks into your eyes, face pinched in confusion. You look back at him with an open, innocent expression. You don’t say anything, so he pulls you back in and resumes kissing you with abandon. After a beat you push him away again. He feels genuinely stung. He loosens his arms around your waist even more so he can see your whole face, searching for an answer. 

“Wha-?” He can’t even get one word of his question out before you’re straddling his lap, taking advantage of his confusion to catch him off guard. You lace your fingers with his on both hands, and pin them next to his shoulders against the upholstery. “Oh…” he breathes out. 

You give him The Smile . You’ve never looked more radiant, but there’s something subtly sinister about it too. Still smiling at him, you start to roll your hips, pressing down on his cock through his jeans. He whimpers. You press his hands into the seat harder. It hurts his bad shoulder, but he likes it. He struggles just a little against your restraint, trying to get close enough to your face to kiss you, but you lean back just enough that he can’t reach you. Corey knows he could overpower you if he tried, but he enjoys being trapped underneath you, even as he gets more and more desperate. You rock your hips against him ruthlessly. He grinds up into you involuntarily. 

After what feels like forever, you lean down to kiss him. The kiss is surprisingly chaste, closed and feather light. The contrast with the lewd way you’re rubbing on him drives him crazy.  

"Please," he says against your lips. He's not really sure what he's asking for, he just knows he needs . "Please, please, please." 

He might not know what he's asking for, but you do. You untangle your fingers from his. He keeps his hands where you'd held them while you reach down between the two of you to unbutton his pants. You stand halfway up off his lap and pull his pants and boxers down just enough to free his cock. You pull apart from him and look down to admire it. A big bead of precum seeps out of his slit. You wipe it away with your thumb, then press that thumb against his lips, smearing. He opens his mouth and tries to take you in, but you pull away. You lick what’s left of his wetness off of your skin, then you sweep your tongue over his plush top lip. You kiss him deeply, and he tastes the precum mixed with your saliva. He’s never sampled himself before. He feels a little twinge of shame for enjoying it so much, but it passes quickly. You wanted him to taste it, you must have wanted him to like it.

You sit back down on him and wrap your fingers around his shaft. He shudders. You stroke his cock, rotating your wrist as you move your arm up and down, tugging him in time with the music that still fills the car. He thrusts his hips up, fucking your hand like his life depends on it. You run your free hand through his hair, scratching his scalp at the crown of his head before sliding to the nape of his neck and closing a tight fist around a bundle of curls. You pull his head back so his throat is exposed. With your tongue wide and flat, you lick all the way up from his clavicle peeking out of his collar, over his chin to his bottom lip. He whines your name, over and over, like a mantra.

It doesn’t take long at all for him to get close. You sense it and put your lips right by his ear. Your breath makes him shiver, he loves when you whisper to him and it pushes him that much further along.

“If you make a mess, everyone’s gonna know what we were doing when we get to the campground.” He pictures himself getting out of the car, a big sticky stain on his shirt. Shaking hands with the owner of the record store and praying your boss doesn’t look down. He kind of loves the idea of everyone knowing you made him cum so recently, that he’s so helplessly yours. But he knows you love your job and he would never jeopardize that. 

“What should we - fuck - what should we do?” His voice cracks. 

“There’s only one way to make sure there’s absolutely no mess,” you tell him. He doesn’t bother asking what you mean. He knows you’re going to show him and he knows it’s going to destroy him. 

You slide off his lap sideways, landing on the seat next to him, and arrange yourself so you’re sitting on your knees, one hand still grasping and stroking his cock. You bend down over him and take the tip in your mouth. The soft wetness enveloping him feels incredible. He screws up his face, trying hard to last just a little longer. You slide down his length, taking him into your throat until your nose bumps against his thigh. Then, sucking hard, you slide slowly back up. That’s the last straw. With a long, high pitched moan that doesn’t even feel like his voice, he cums in your mouth. 

You swallow his load and keep sucking, overstimulating him until he paws at you, desperate for a break from the sensation. You release him with an audible pop,  licking your lips as you straighten up and make eye contact with him. 

“Oh my god,” he offers weakly. You smile and plant a sweet kiss on his forehead.  

[2309analysis]

⌗ | RULES ⛲️

1. Please do not spam my works. I don’t want to get over flooded with notifications of you liking me. I appreciate the love, I really do. Although, reblogging is just as appreciated and it’s more beneficial. Please be wary of this. 3 - 5 posts a day.

2. Please do not put NSFW content in my replies unless if stated that you can. * (Which will be mostly never) * I don’t want to be associated with it. It honestly discomforts me if somebody randomly associated me with smut & nudes without knowing. It just irks me thinking about it.

3. No slurs. Please. I find them very stupid and stressful to deal with. Regardless of race or heritage, I won’t allow it here. You will be blocked if provoked by me. You get two warnings.

4. Please don’t insult others in my replies. It’s unnecessary, opinions are opinions. Not facts. It’s my job to answer those, not yours. If you have questions over them, ask, don’t harass. Don’t be a prick. Gives you a very big reputation.

5. My NSFW will be very minimal, and I will probably barely post any. So, 15+ with them. If you’re underage please do not interact. * (Replies, reblogs) * I prefer not to have younger eyes pry on my work. You’re allowed to read my regular stories though. It’s for everyone unless stated otherwise.

6. Consecutive criticism. It will be the only one I allow. If you have any writing or editing advice to give me, I’m free to hear it. Although I won’t accept you guys just calling me out on my mistakes and expecting me to know what’s immediately wrong with it. That is rude and disrespectful towards the artist. At least give some feedback and reason why.

7. If you catch any mistake within my writings, please directly message me. I don’t like having those exposed. I’m a bit insecure about my writing, so I prefer it if you’re private with it. Please and thank you. I’ll respect your mistakes too, and directly message you on them as well.

8. You guys are allowed to send me messages / questions. I have no guarantee I’ll immediately reply. Remember, I am busy too, I have my own life outside my phone and & platforms. If I don’t reply within a week or two, you’re allow to message me again. Or send me a question asking me to reply. I will get to you as soon as I can. I do not have the best motivations to get to my messages.

9. Please be aware of what and how you’re saying things. Some people might feel uncomfortable about what you could say. So please be wary of the topics & comments you’re about to say. Remember, not everyone is like you, and you don’t know them personally.

10. Please put "TW" before sending something with possible triggers. You may not know if they will trigger someone because of personal reasons. No you will not ask for them unless they're comfortable telling you, and if they are please dm that stuff. <- For the triggers.

11. If someone sends something that offends please don't blow up at them and act they know it's not right or that they knew it would offend you, like with misunderstandings it's too dramatic to deal with. Also if they don't feel the need to explain just ignore them for a while, it they make you upset then don't talk to them.

12. * (This kinda goes with rule 11.) * Please do not send any personal attacks to someone. Also don't make it another's problem, if you need someone to support you with something, please go dm.

13. Please don't use anything that others find annoying, upsetting, or triggering to get their attention, under their skin, or just to be a prick. If they would like you to stop saying these certain things then stop it, once should be enough. I will block you.

14. Cussing. You’re completely allowed to cuss in my, just be responsible and respectful with it. Please do not cuss every third word. It makes it awkward and a bit immature.

15. Please do not spam in the comments. It’s not going to be a fun game when you’re blocked. I don’t want others to feel pressured, and same regards to me too. If you have a request, send it through questions. If you have a questions, dm them. You’re allowed a discuss in replies, and reply to others. Just don’t overload with them.

Hello this isn't a rule more like a comforting reminder. Your emotions are valid, if you're angry that's okay, if you don't wanna talk, that's okay, if you're down or upset, that's okay.

Please don't feel guilty for not being at your best while talking to someone here, that is what vents are for. To help you guys through problems you're currently going through.

That is all for now! I hope you guys read these careful and keep them in consideration. You can always come back here to relook at them. It is not embarrassing, it is necessary. Do not feel ashamed for forgetting a few rules. We all do.

I hope y’all have a wonderful rest of your day! I hope these rules are reasonable enough, and if you have any recommendations or suggestions / questions, feel free to give them to me in replies! If you do not want to reply it, dm or give it as a question. I don’t not mind anyway you do it! You are heard and I want to make sure you know it! ^^

[weirdo710]

Alright, so I’ve been following Pete Genré for years now, and honestly, I don’t know how more people aren’t talking about their discography. Pete’s work has been lowkey underground for a minute, but it’s so slept on that it’s starting to feel criminal. With three albums out and a fourth one (hopefully) on the horizon, now seems like the perfect time to dive into what makes Pete’s music so unique—and why their next project might just blow everything else out of the water.

Let’s start with A Year Without Having You (AYWHY), Pete’s debut album from 2018. It’s kinda wild that Pete was able to craft such a raw, emotional record as their first drop. The minimalism here hits hard, and the lyrical content? Phew. If you’ve ever gone through heartbreak, you know what I mean. It’s like Pete just knows how to speak to that kind of pain in a way that feels super personal. And yeah, it didn’t make a huge splash when it dropped, but I swear, it’s one of those albums that grows on you the more you listen.

Then there’s never f**k wit the new kid (NFWTNK). Released in 2020, it’s Pete’s second album, and it came at such a crazy time. Like, the whole world was in chaos, and here’s Pete dropping an album that’s gritty, rebellious, and angry—perfect for the vibe. If AYWHY was quiet heartbreak, NFWTNK was straight-up defiance. The punk elements, the raw production… this album feels like Pete stepping up and saying, “This is who I am, take it or leave it.” And that deluxe edition dropping on Pete’s college best friend’s birthday?? Iconic. It’s got that energy of someone who’s been through it and isn’t afraid to let you know.

And then… we had to wait. That second hiatus from 2020 to 2022 had me thinking, is Pete done? But nope. AWE-TiSM drops on Pete’s 24th birthday in 2024, and it’s a whole new level of artistry. It’s experimental, it’s glitchy, it’s chaotic in the best way. Pete really leaned into the whole neurodiversity theme here, which I love. This album feels like a sonic representation of what it’s like to navigate a world that’s constantly overstimulating. The layered production, the distorted vocals… AWE-TiSM is an album that makes you think and feel at the same time. It’s not an easy listen, but it’s worth it. Pete Genré has definitely evolved from their earlier work, and you can tell they’ve become even more comfortable embracing their uniqueness.

So that brings us to the big question: What’s coming next? With three distinct albums under their belt, what can we expect from Pete’s fourth album? There’s been almost zero info about it so far, but if you’re a real fan, you know to read between the lines. Pete doesn’t do anything by accident, so I’m betting they’ve already dropped some hints without us even realizing it.

Some fans are speculating that Pete might lean into something like hyperpop for their next release, especially after the glitchy, experimental vibes of AWE-TiSM. Imagine Pete going full-out chaotic with autotune, heavy bass, and unpredictable beats. It wouldn’t be too far off from where they’ve been headed recently, and honestly? I’d be here for it. Pete’s always been about pushing boundaries, and hyperpop would be the next logical step for someone who’s never been afraid to break genre rules.

Others think Pete might go in a completely different direction—like, back to something more acoustic or stripped down. It sounds wild, but hear me out. After going so deep into complex production, Pete might want to hit us with something raw and personal again, like a callback to AYWHY. Something that feels intimate, like we’re sitting in the room with them. I wouldn’t be surprised if Pete pulled a 360 and dropped an album that’s completely opposite of AWE-TiSM. That’s the thing with Pete—you never know what they’re gonna do next.

Whatever happens, though, I feel like this next album could be the one that really gets people talking about Pete Genré. I mean, the fanbase is still pretty niche right now, but more and more people are catching on. It’s only a matter of time before Pete blows up, especially if they keep experimenting and finding new ways to express their sound. By 2026, I think we could be looking at Pete Genré as one of those underground artists who’s finally getting the recognition they deserve.

Anyway, that’s my two cents on where Pete might be headed next. What do y’all think? Are we getting hyperpop Pete, stripped-back Pete, or something totally different? Either way, I’m hyped for what’s to come.”

#PeteGenré #AWE-TiSM #neverf**kwitthenewkid #AYWHY #FourthAlbumSpeculation #HyperpopTheory #BandLabArtists #UndergroundMusic

[wilheminalibrary]

11/09/2023

Bedrooms and the Best of Intentions: Week 1 of November Writing Challenge

I love November. There's something alluring about the month before the end. It commands in equal measure the pitched mandate of disaster preparedness and a decadent sort of Masque of the Red Death need to party before the end. Few things in life delight me like cognitive dissonance. The air changes, the night gets thick with darkness as early as 5:30pm, and something in me wants to get all my shit together and ride the missile into the end of the year like the end of Dr. Strangelove.

How fitting then, that all my friends are cracking their knuckles and getting busy with the reason for the season: National Novel Writing Month. Thirty days of committed work and thirty days of my group chat blowing off steam and complaining about their word counts. I'd laugh and sip my lemonade from the Porch of the Unbothered but, here's the thing: I love a challenge. I love writing to a brief. Give me an assignment, a deadline, and a small chance of success and I'm sold. I see my friends mounting up like the Regulators and I long for a horse. But how do I ride beside them?

I've attempted to write long form before with minimal success. This is what I can best manage: thirty poems, thirty days. A poem a day. This keeps me apace with my peers and gives my November that essential doomsday feeling I need to feel alive.

So that's what I've been up to all week. So far, the process has been rewarding. Funneling my work into the bottleneck of a messy procession of days, forcing first drafts that must be edited later, I can feel these habits barnacle-ing onto my craft. It feels good to look at the past week and see seven little sprouting plants poking out and leaning towards the gray sun. It feels like accomplishment. Like progress.

Of course, the most daunting part of wrangling poems at this pace is that age-old writer cliche: Where to get ideas. Some of my poetry peers can swan dive into the month wihout a plan and trust the universe to give them 30 things to write about in as many days. I love these people. I envy these people. I am not one of them. I need structure. I need buckets. I need a project. I need to iterate. That means forms. It means scaffolding. I love scaffolding.

When pulling inspiration for series poems, the two main roads I've had any success with are variations on form and variations on theme.

I write mostly free-verse, but occasionally feel the call of a sestina or villanelle or pantoum. Perhaps it's the lapsed Catholic in me, still clutching her rosary with frail hands, but I find immense power in repetition. Repeating lines, repeating words, they build momentum and magnify intention like spells or prayers or music. Each repeated line takes new weight from its predecessor, forcing the reader to see the same thing but suddenly different.

Thematic writing or motifs help to tackle larger concepts a moment at a time. I think of the way my transition has changed me, so I start with the media I grew up loving that changes with me as I look back. I'm obsessed with the idea of home and the ways we build it, so I start with people's bedrooms.

These works can feel like the parable of the blind men and the Elephant, grasping at the too-big whole of a thing and coming away with pieces. Bedrooms have such significance. They're solitary spaces that we define by our living in them, but the mere mention of them conjures intimacy, sex, and connection. In her book, The Letters of Mina Harker, Dodie Bellamy writes that "1,000 bedrooms couldn't solve my problems." The line immediately made me think of all the bedrooms I'd been in, and the legend of a thousand paper cranes.

Maybe they would solve everything. Maybe there's value in the work itself. It suddenly became meaningful to attempt it. And so a healthy portion of the month's poems are going to a series about Bedrooms.

The first week has gone by with minimal incident. A couple of skipped days here and there but I'm on track. I'm happy with the poems and excited to write more.

I'll be putting up posts like this one weekly to reflect on my process thus far. A week of poems in. I feel pretty good. I feel like I'm working towards something significant, even if it's just the sense of accomplishment I feel looking at all the sprouting plants poking up from the garden so far. I put in the work, for no other reason than the work itself. I'm eager to see where the rest of the week takes me.

The world may be ending. The year may be shuffling towards a terrible, cold end, but I will work the winter until its soil freezes into bitter stone. I will tend to my hardy crops as the sun dips low and blue as metal. I will work.

And then, as the blue goes black and the last day has nothing left to say but "I'm sorry" and silence, I will look down at my table, my bounty of growth and smile. Piled on my table will be all my efforts, steaming and lovingly transformed from hard work to art.

And then, in the dark hall of December's shadow, proud as a parent, I will pull all my poems toward me with a satisfied sigh and I will do what December was made for.

I will feast as the world screams its last breath all around me. I will bite down on all my heard work and taste its blood in my red mouth.

I will smile.

I will feast.

Yours with an open mouth,

-B

[refurbzoo23]

5 Mind-Blowing Reasons Why Your Next Phone Should be Second Hand from Dubai

Shopping for a new phone can be thrilling yet daunting with all the options out there. But what if I told you that your best next buy might not be new at all? Yes, you heard that right! Let's take a dive into the world of phones, but with a twist - focusing on second-hand phones from Dubai. Here's why this option might just be your best call yet.

1. Unbeatable Price Points

Who doesn't like to save a buck or two? One of the most compelling reasons to consider a second hand phone in Dubai is the price advantage.

Why is it cheaper?

Taxes and duties on electronics in Dubai are significantly lower than in many other parts of the world. This, combined with a competitive market, means sellers can offer lower prices.

Dubai is a hub for trade-in and upgrade programs, which floods the market with well-maintained, second-hand devices.

Imagine snagging the latest iPhone or Samsung Galaxy model for way less than what you'd pay back home. Now, that's a deal hard to resist!

2. Surprisingly Good Quality

The word "used" might bring to mind a scratched, worn-out device, but hold that thought. Phones in Dubai are often in impeccable condition.

Why the stellar condition?

A culture of caring for gadgets like precious gems means most used phones have been pampered.

Regular trade-ins are common, meaning phones don't have the time to wear out before they're back on the market.

I once got a second-hand phone that looked and worked as if it had just been unboxed. Yes, it was that good!

3. A Wide Selection of Models

Ever felt like a kid in a candy store? That's what browsing through the second-hand phone market in Dubai feels like.

From vintage to the latest models, it's all there

Dubai's status as a luxury shopping destination means high-end and limited edition models are readily available.

The rapid turnover of devices ensures a constantly updated selection.

Whether you're hunting for a rare gem or just want to enjoy last season's flagship without breaking the bank, you're spoiled for choice.

4. State-of-the-Art Refurbishing Processes

Not all second-hand phones are sold as-is. Many undergo a rigorous refurbishing process that breathes new life into them.

What does refurbishing involve?

Professional cleaning and replacement of any faulty parts.

Software updates and thorough performance testing.

This means you're getting a phone that's as close to new as possible, but for a fraction of the price.

5. Eco-Friendly Choice

Lastly, by going the second-hand route, you're doing Mother Earth a big favor.

The eco-impact

Reducing electronic waste by giving a phone a second life.

Minimizing the demand for new device production, which has a massive environmental footprint.

Not only is buying a second-hand phone from Dubai easy on your wallet, but it's also a step toward more sustainable living. And if you ask me, that's a win-win.

Conclusion

Investing in a second-hand phone from Dubai isn't just a financially savvy decision; it's an all-around smart move. You get to enjoy premium quality, impressive savings, and a wide selection, all while doing your bit for the planet. Next time you're in the market for a phone, why not let Dubai's second-hand gems surprise you? Trust me; your wallet (and the Earth) will thank you.

[riverstardis]

too old for this shift:

here we go😬

connie and grace’s video message for charlie🥲

ah new titles! i still miss the old ones tbh. one of my twitter mutuals @/ProductionsJAW has a thread where he’s edited the 2014 titles but with the current characters into every episode since begin again and it’s great! he also does these titles as well (the 2016 ones)

robyn realising charlie’s been working there for longer than she’s been alive. pretty sure ethan’s the oldest that applies to so he and everyone younger weren’t even alive when charlie started working there thats so weird bc that’s such a big chunk of characters😭

jacob’s thinking of proposing to connie🥺

lmaoo david accidentally letting slip to charlie that he has a surprise party. ofc it would either be david or robyn

ethan and alicia playing with a child by blowing up gloves🥺🥺🥺

when steph gets hit by that car all i can think of is the blooper where there’s a camera person still in the shot😭

ah josh. he wasn’t doing a very good job of hiding was he? why was he even in the hospital let alone a random cubicle?? he could’ve just not come to the hospital prior to the party and then charlie couldn’t have spoiled his own surprise??

“the day the great charlie fairhead hangs up his gloves is the day the nhs falls off a cliff!” first of all “falls of a cliff”💀💀 second, the nhs is looking pretty close to falling of a cliff these days is charlie planning on retiring?? although the implication that charlie is single handedly holding up the nhs is so funny to me, like not just the department, not just the hospital, the ENTIRE nhs😭😭

connie :(

tess!

max trying to flirt with the agency nurse who looks a bit like zoe. she doesn’t reciprocate and noel goes “looks like you just crashed and burned, buddy” and then asks if she reminds him of anyone but max doesn’t see it😭 also “crashed and burned”💀

i wonder how jonnie could’ve gone if all this hadn’t happened

lily calling iain and jez “immature boys” so true

oh jacob walking out the staff room to iain and jez that’s another one from the bloopers

fletch! “if i’m here in 30 years you have permission to shoot me in the head”😭😭

ahh establishing the air ambulance guy. that’s how you know he’s gonna die. same thing happened with that paramedic in the s35 ambulance crash

did they rehearse that dance sjskfkfk

ethan trying to talk to alicia is such a disaster😭😭

cal making fun of how tight his trousers are and then trying to give him advice sjsjdj

the video of all the staff by reception with what looks like champagne (and you can see that david has something different, possibly orange juice, which would suggest whatever everyone else has is alcoholic at least) but surely they shouldn’t be drinking if they’re on shift, even just a small glass?? maybe they filmed it at the end of their shift

the fact that grace would’ve been fine if the helicopter hadn’t crashed😭😭

it’s wild because how on earth did they both survive DRIVING OFF A CLIFF

and how on earth did grace survive driving off a cliff AND a helicopter crash

lmao lily coming in and talking to charlie about a patient as he’s trying to watch his video and doesn’t pick up on his cues until he explicitly says he’s busy. that’s autism babes

cal making sure fletch isn’t driving after drinking. well at least he has some amount of responsibility. i suppose if anything would make sure you never even consider driving after drinking it’s being an emergency doctor

alicia commenting on ethan’s trousers too😭😭

cal nearly being hit by a helicopter rotor blade right where he is later stabbed😫

if i had a nickel for every time ethan’s been trapped under a collapsed structure and yet somehow made it out with minimal injury, i’d have two nickels. which isn’t a lot, but it’s weird that it happened twice.

noel’s so surprised that they’re closing the ed as if there isn’t a helicopter blocking the collapsed entrance😭

“i’ll hold the leg, you roll these skin kissers down” “i was told this was what all the cool kids were wearing”

i can’t see jac walking in to the ed without hearing “holy fuck, that looks like the end of casualty” from the bloopers sjdkkffk 2016 really had the best bloopers and i will keep pointing them out

connie :(

“i’m in my boxer shorts. i’m stuck under this rubble like stig of the dump” he’s so funny😭😭 his boxers are patterned though that’s snazzy

this is the scene!! “sorry i’ve never been very good at being injured. cal says that’s why i got into medicine. to learn how to fix myself” i don’t remember which episode it was where i talked about this already but basically what i said was it sounds more like he’s talking about his mental health because doctors don’t actually treat themselves of course. and actually now that i’m watching it, the tone of his voice definitely supports that and judging by the way alicia looks at him she’s picked up on it too

NIBBLES ORIGIN STORY he goes straight from implying something about his mental health to talking about he used to lock himself in his room and not speak to anyone for days so… yeah

alicia’s face😭😭 she’s wondering why he’s telling her this. the advice cal gave him earlier was to match her energy: if she’s spiky, be spiky back, if she’s vulnerable, be vulnerable back, if she’s horny, you’re horny. but she wasn’t being vulnerable he just started being vulnerable out of nowhere and she’s so confused sjskfkfk she didn’t even know that cal called him nibbles😭

thinking about it, isn’t this what happened with fenisha too? it was ethan being vulnerable with her in the comic con episode that massively kickstarted her feelings for him

omg just remembered that on that casualty confessions account someone sent one after this ep saying they wished the nibbles backstory was more child friendly because apparently a 6 year old misspelling the word nipples is inappropriate😭 i mean as long as the context is not sexual, which is clearly wasn’t, there’s nothing more child friendly than nipples, they literally exist to feed children😭😭 what a take

cal absolutely bricking it clambering into the scaffolding with a med kit when ethan and alicia set the siren off and they’re just stood there pretty much fine and alicia’s like “he’s dislocated his patella” and cal’s like “what, that’s it?” i love protective big brother cal sjdkfkf

charlie manages to be annoying even when he’s speaking sense

big mac! he calls charlie an “unflappable guardian angel” lol remember when ethan called himself unflappable

elle looks really good this episode

poor jacob :(

ethan managed to put his “skin kissers” back despite his knee then?

“the only way to clear the department is to have a catastrophic helicopter crash?”😭

grace has a subdural haematoma and it’s not looking good :(

cal stood looking at the blade that narrowly missed him :(

“i took your advice. it backfired spectacularly” “what’s that?” “i showed alicia my vulnerable side. now she thinks i’m some sort of basket case” “yeah, because women often stand and stare adoringly at potential basket cases” 🥺🥺🥺 and ethan looks at her and she is indeed staring adoringly then she looks away and cal goes “go on you better go before she realises it’s true”😭

he starts to go and then cal’s like “what was it you said to her that was so vulnerable anyway?” and ethan just shakes his head. cal’s probably thinking he told her about their mum or emilie or having the huntington’s gene or something not why he calls him nibbles😭😭😭 no actually maybe not because would she possibly think he was a basket case if he told her about the hd??? maybe cal just can’t think of anything because he doesn’t realise how much his bullying actually hurt ethan

ooo that shot of cal looking at the blade that almost hit him again… bit of foreshadowing?😥😥

you see though, cal DID know that alicia fancied ethan back so not only was he probably breaking some kind of bro code by knowingly dating his brother’s crush, he also knew that she liked him back! so he shouldn’t really have been so surprised when she cheated on him should he? like what exactly was he expecting to happen😭😭

it’s wild how somehow every single main character made it through this alive

[igarbagecannoteven]

19 !!! 37 !!!! 14 !!!!

!!!!! hi jess!!! thanks for stopping by with questions *and* exclamation marks how fun!!!

19. first line of a wip you're working on? ohhoho okay technically legally i'm not working on this bc i told myself i wouldn't until i've finished some other things but also the first page of this fic dropped into my head the other day so here ya go:

Ashton had known he was going to die for love since he was seven years old.

37. most inspirational quote you’ve ever read or heard that’s still important to you? so i have never read the book this selection is from, but my mom has and she passed it along to me when i was in high school and it shaped the way i write rather dramatically and that is anne lamott on shitty first drafts. now, admittedly, the end of her first paragraph has been thoroughly debunked for me since i started getting involved in the 5sos fanfic world since apparently several of the writers here write brilliant first drafts and i don't hate them so. it was, i will admit, a revelation that dealt a healthy blow to both my ego and my confidence but! i have (mostly) moved on. but basically the thing about this passage that helped me the most is that most writers, out there in the original fiction world (and still i would guess the majority of the fic world) write really terrible first drafts, just truly awful ones! but that's okay bc you (general you of everyone except those who don't do multiple drafts) pick yourself up and use that shitty first draft to write a better second draft and you keep going until you've got a piece of work you can stand behind and be proud of. and the shittiness of your first draft or the amount of drafts it takes for you to get to the final one is not a mark of how good or bad a writer you are, the only thing that shows that is the final draft and how you refused to let yourself get knocked down, refused to settle for less than whatever you reached in the final version. the selection says a bunch of other good things so here's a free pdf of it i found on google.

14. what’s the most research you ever put into a book? okay so full disclosure i absolutely hate research and will do almost everything i can to avoid doing it (if you're ever wondering why something is vague in a fic it's bc i cba to look into what it'd actually be in detail lol) i did do a fair amount of research for if i bleed you'll be the last to know for the whole stitching up (i also got into an in-depth conversation with my brother about the way a bullet wound works and what sort of gun would produce the kind of injury i wanted) so maybe that? i have done a lot of research cumulatively for tis the damn fic and i do anticipate doing a lot more once i reach certain plot points so at the end of it all that may be the one i research the most for but also i may just lean heavily on being vague about certain things lol

send me writer’s asks!

[finrays]

I’m the resident Fish Lady so I had to write something for Fish Ladies... hey @robinpixels, thanks for this one.

I banged this out between spurts of cleaning to give my wrist a break (it got VERY painful as of Sunday morning,) and breaking the entire effector on my 3-D printer while trying to fix it... whoops! I’m cranky because of both the pain and the expense, now.

But at least mermaids.

No editing, we die like siblings in Horizon games.

Elisabet is, she reflects, going to have to have a word with the NOAA Fisheries Office about her team’s current assignment when they get back to shore.

Over the course of her short career as an observer, she’s worked with fishermen of every stripe. From the well-intentioned to the well-equipped for conservation and minimal bycatch. And all the way across the spectrum through corporate trawlers like this one, more concerned with a bottom line than the bottom of bays and continental shelves.

But never, ever have they had an assignment as tiring and taxing as this one. The constant need to document violations, the staggering amount of bycatch, the flagrant flaunting of environmental regulations and the condescending disregard for the expertise of her coworkers…

She lets out an explosive sigh, blowing her bangs up and out of her eyes.

So help me, if I ever have to do observation for Faro Fisheries again…

Well. She’d better not have to. That’s all she has the energy to declare for now.

Signing off on her last few action items, she thumbs her datapad off, turning to her teammates with a wry, weary grin.

“And, that’s another day of fines and violations to write up. How are we feeling?”

Ross looks up from the datapad just long enough to let out a terse little sigh, shaking his head. High condemnation from the stoic man, in Elisabet’s experience.

Catalina, playful as always, is more responsive, eyeing her up and down before letting out a heavy snort.

“About like you look. Good thing this is the last tow, yeah? I’m beat. And demoralized. Ready for a drink.”

Finally finishing his report and tucking his datapad into the drybag, Ross shakes his head, finally breaking his silence with a dry chuckle.

“I’ll buy for both of you, for doing all the talking.”

Dropping her own in beside it and straightening up, Elisabet leans back against the gunwale, tipping her head back to bask in the last rays of sun washing over the deck.

“Well. If I don’t fall asleep, first, won’t say… no to… …hold on… what’s…?”

Shading her eyes and turning toward the water, she peers over the gunwale toward the floats of the net bobbing up and down on the waves as it drags behind the ship.

Sure enough, a dark shape writhes just on the edge of her vision, struggling against the underside of the floats in sharp, short bursts of motion; clearly, the whatever-it-is is rapidly tiring. She wonders, briefly, stomach dropping at the thought, just how long it’s been down there, unnoticed by the crew, and by her observers, tangled up in their own net of violations as they are.

Ah, hell... this is the cherry on top for these guys. Poor thing…

Swallowing down the guilt, she nods, pointing the struggling creature out to the others as they join her at the rail.

“Yeah. Something tangled up in the net. Struggling a lot… looks… gray? Whale? Dolphin? Can’t be able to breathe, whatever it is.”

Plunging her hand back into the drybag, she fishes out her knife, clipping the sheath to her belt and throwing a Look in Ross’s direction. His return grimace is all she needs to know about his assessment of their prospects.

Cat makes the first move, unclipping the radio from its place against the cabin wall, and clicking a three-note signal to open a connection to the bridge.

“Captain? You’ve got something in the net back there. Big. Dolphin, or something. We’ve got to call the tow and-“

The radio chatters. Apparently, the news isn’t what Cat wants to hear; her brows draw together, and her eyes harden.

“You can’t be serious.”

This time, Ross looks up, too, glancing between the two of them with a worried frown. The storm on Cat’s face breaks, as the message continues, and abruptly, she flings her own datapad at the deck, nose wrinkling in a snarl. With practiced ease, Ross’s hand snaps out to snatch it out of the air, tucking it away safely as their partner forges on.

“Listen, I don’t care what Mr. Faro says! The Endangered Species Act says-“

But the buzz of the radio continues, and Cat’s tight-lipped glare at the mouthpiece shreds the last straw of Elisabet’s patience.

“To hell with this,” she growls.

Shucking her PFD and kicking off her boots, she swings her leg up over the gunwale, and plunges over the side, despite the warning shouts of her coworkers. The cold seawater stings viciously as it hits her eyes, and for a moment, she splutters at the salt on her lips. But the weakly-thrashing shape drives her onward. Gulping air, she plunges under the surface, kicking downward until her hands find the rubbery flesh and the tawny filaments of rope.

Damn… really tangled up. I’m gonna have to cut the net and pull it aboard.

Yanking the dive knife from her belt and winding her fingers through the wispy strands of the net, she slashes through them wildly, ignoring the sting of salt water on the nicks and cuts the blade leaves behind in her haste. Each time she surfaces to gulp for air, chaos hits her ears; shouting from the boat, the grind of the engine, the slosh of waves. She dives, dives again. Thrashes at the net again and again and again, ducking the creature’s rapidly dwindling struggles.

Finally, the slice of net comes free, and she seizes the float line, dragging it upward with all the strength she has left. It’s enough to break the surface, and she splutters for air. But it’s not enough to drag the poor beast above water. For a moment, panic steals her sense, and she nearly drops the net in her frantic haste to bring it up.

No, no, no, come on! We’re so close…

A pair of strong arms plunges into the water beside her, picking up the float line and hauling upward with a growl of exertion. Gasping in relief, she lets go, floundering for the stern and safety; even without the boar-skull tattoo on the bicep, she’d know those arms anywhere.

Ross! Oh, bless you, you big, beautiful-

Even as he hauls on the floats, finally bringing the worryingly-still creature above the water, Cat seizes her by the collar, assisting her mad scramble over the transom, and dropping her unceremoniously on the deck. She looms overhead, spluttering furiously.

“What the hell was that? You stupid-“

Lis wants to lay bonelessly where she’s fallen, for a while, catching her breath and baking the ocean’s cold out of her bones. But there’s work to be done, and with a groan, she heaves herself to her feet, seizing the rope and adding her own strength to the pull.

“I know, I know! But we have a problem, here, come on. Help me!”

Between the three of them, the creature finally comes over the stern, and onto the deck. Immediately, she drops to her knees and pulls the piscine shape into her lap, reaching for the dive knife again and working it under the remaining filaments.

“Really tangled… gonna have to be careful, here. Dolphin?”

As he pulls his own knife and crouches on her other side, Ross traces the shape of the tail through the shredded line.

“Not with that tail. Sacropterygian?”

Cautiously, Cat picks up one of the smaller pelvic fins, working the filaments loose with clever fingers.

“Lobe-finned, yeah. Think we’ve got a coelacanth on our hands, here.”

A coelacanth?

Part of her mind notes, bemused, that it’s a strange latitude to find one at, and a strange depth stratum, too. But the immediate need to untangle the net drives it from her head, and she gives the tail a pat with her free hand, ripping through the remaining pieces of twine.

“Come on, don’t give up on us, big guy.”

Almost on cue, the tail shudders against her knees, and she gives it another reassuring rub, picking the last few slivers of netting away.

“There we go, see? You’re all right. You’re ok. We’ll get you back-“

Again, the fish shudders. And coughs.

She has just enough time to muse that fish don’t cough like that before the front half of the “coelacanth” sits up abruptly gasping and spluttering. Sharp teeth drip with slime and seawater and a long, pearl-wrapped braid slaps wetly against skin and scale.

The sight steals her thoughts, utterly. Instinctively, she brings an arm up to support the woman’s (?) back as she heaves for breath, one hand pressed to her chest, the other to her side.

What in the…?

There’s only one answer that comes to mind. But… even with the proof right in front of her, she still can’t quite believe what she’s seeing.

Mottled blue-gray scales, girdling her shoulders, and lining her brow and finned cheeks. Phosphorescent slits along the sides of her neck and ribs that flap and shudder, then close tightly, sealing themselves off from the air as she finds her breath with what sounds like a humanlike pair of lungs.

And her eyes…

Her eyes are hauntingly beautiful. Like moonlight on calm water. Like the gleam of an abalone shell. Like a beryl gem, held to the sun. Letting out a final, shuddering sigh, the impossible creature glances up… and meets her gaze.

She can’t look away. Can’t move. Can barely even breathe. The luminous eyes hold hers, filled, at first, with fear and apprehension… which slowly begins to ebb as the not-coelacanth regains her composure.

Then, chaos erupts from the wheelhouse, and the moment shatters.

She sees the thrash starting an instant before the tail slams into her nose, driving her head back against the gunwale. Stars pop in her vision and the roar of activity on deck is drowned out briefly by the ringing in her ears. Shaking her head to clear it brings on a dizzying wave of nausea and raising a hand to wipe at the blood trickling down her chin from an aching nose, she lurches up onto her knees, struggling to focus her vision on the swarming deck before her.

The creature… mermaid… has not, in fact, escaped over the side. Instead, she’s being swarmed. Tied down once again, this time by a multitude of hands, pinning her wiggling, slippery body to the deck.

It’s a struggle to get to her feet, but she makes the effort anyway, stretching a hand toward the chaos in protest.

“Wait-!!! Wait, s-stop-“

But the deck is rocking even harder than usual, and she stumbles, reeling into the gunwale again. Ross’s iron grip as he wraps an arm around her shoulders hauls her upright, steadying her against the ship’s rolling and her own dizziness.

“Sit down, you have a concussion-“

Ignoring his advice, she leans forward, losing her balance again.

“Let… her go! Over!”

The crew is beyond listening, especially to her; she can’t pick out the specific voices from the thrum, let alone hear her own. Catalina slides under her other arm, bracing her from the left. Her eyes bore into Elisabet’s, fiercely commanding.

“Lis. Let it go. We can’t do anything right now. I know, you’re slagged off. I am, too. But you can’t do anything like this. Save your strength. Fight when it matters. Yeah?”

She’s right, of course. They’re both right. But…

Surrendering, she leans into their grip, allowing them to help her stumble for the cabin door.

“Yeah… ok. You’re right… ok.”

But it hurts.

Especially when she glances back over her shoulder, and catches those seaglass-gleam, eyes again, frantic with fear and pleading for release.

Please hold on. It’s only for a little while. I’ll get you out of here.

I promise.

[christ0pher-evans]

Variety’s Actors on Actors

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader  Warnings: Slight Angst / Implied Smut Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: This is my first time writing a Chris Evans fanfiction. It it loosely based off of Variety’s Actors on Actors interviews with Chris Evans and Paul Rudd / Chris Evans and Scarlett Johansson. It is pure fluff, hope you guys like it!!! Please reblog and like🖤

 ♡

When Variety had approached you to be involved in the ‘Actors on Actors’ style interviews, you knew that it could be really fun, a great opportunity and you felt immediate excitement for who they might pair you with. 

It was only a day later when they had told you that they wanted you to do the interview with Chris Evans. Normally, any time that you got to spend with Chris, physically or virtually, was fun; however you had no idea how you could possibly interview the man when you knew all there was to know about his life and career, I mean you’d only know him 16 years, and been together for the past 6 years, leading to your past first year of blissful marriage. 

You had spent the last month away from Chris due to the filming of your latest movie, and was missing him so much that your heart hurt. The thought of getting to spend a full 45 minutes doing this interview with him was making you jump for joy, because usually neither of you have enough free time simultaneously to be able to spend this length of time together. It’s often a fleeting text of “I miss you”, or a 5 minute phone call between scenes. 

You had spent the past week since finding out about this interview trying to come up with interesting enough questions that the fans would want answers to. You were also thankful for Variety as they had sent you a pre-made list of questions in case you got stuck.

It was finally an hour before the interview, and you hadn’t seen Chris’ face for the past two weeks so you decided to make a bit of extra effort to look nice for him. 

You were sat in front of your dressing table in your apartment that had be rented out for you whilst you were filming. Make-up was spread all over the table and you could see the reflection, several outfits littered all over your bed where you had yet to make your mind up on what to wear. 

45 minutes later and you had a light brown and glittery smokey eye, a subtle winged liner with a gloss over your lips and had given yourself a bouncy blow-dry. After looking through all your outfits, you had decided on one of Chris’ oversized jumpers that you stole before you left and some jeans - even though you wanted to look really nice for him, you knew how much he would appreciate seeing you in his clothes more. 

You had made yourself a coffee and set yourself up at the breakfast bar for the interview. Checking everything was set up and ready for the interview, you waited patiently with butterflies in your stomach for it to start. You were bought out of your excited daze by the noise of your phone, a message from Chris popped up.. ‘Can’t wait to see your beautiful face’ Boy, did he still make you swoon after so long together. 

Not long had passed before the sound of a video call was coming through on your laptop, and as you answered, a member of the Variety team was on your screen. “Hi Y/N, it’s so lovely to speak to you and thank you so much for partaking in this interview. In a couple of minutes, we will connect you straight through to Chris and you can just start chatting and asking your questions. We will record everything from our end and then edit it together to be posted online.” “That all sounds perfect to me. Thank you so much for having me and letting me do this with my husband.” You couldn’t help but grin, it never got old getting to call Chris your husband. You absentmindedly twirled your engagement and wedding rings round your finger.  “Okay, we will connect you now. Have fun!” 

And then there he was, bright eyed and grinning at you through the screen.

“Hi Sweetheart.” His voice made your heart flutter and your stomach do flips.  "Hi Chris, how are you?” you reply sweetly.

You made some small talk for the sake of the interview, before starting to ask each other questions. “So I have a confession to make..” you paused briefly, “I could not think of any questions to ask you that I didn’t already know the answer to, so I thought I would ask questions that I think fans would want to know the answer to.” 

You grin, proud of yourself and proud of the big laugh you got out of Chris because you had come up with such a good idea. “My first question is when you first got into acting, how did you navigate the work/life balance?”

Chris took a swig of beer, pondering his answer before starting. “Well when I actually booked my first bigger film that had a busy schedule, was on the film we worked on together, so previous to that I didn’t have much of a social life” he chuckled, “But when you’re filming for maybe 12 hours a day, 6 days a week, you have to quickly find a routine that works for you where you can still show up to work every day and give 110%. I also remember we used to take naps on set in between our takes all the time.” You couldn’t help but smile as you fondly remembered the first time working with Chris. “No but seriously, when you find a script that you are passionate about, and get to work with people that are truly amazing at what they do, you are happy to dedicate as much time as you need to to get that perfect take, to eventually make that perfect film.” 

“Okay, well let’s talk about Defending Jacob, which for you, was a completely different style of character for you to become. How did you prepare for that role?” 

“Yeah, it was definitely a new type of role to encompass, especially off the back of playing Captain America for almost a decade, even though he was considered a serious character, it’s a completely different league to enter. I remember doing a lot of work with real life district attorneys to understand the pressure and seriousness of the job role and I remember going through lines with you every damn day.” 

You zone out as Chris carries on talking about Defending Jacob as you remember the nights fondly. 

————————

You had just finished clearing up dinner as Chris comes bounding back into the kitchen with his script for Defending Jacob. Placing it down on the dining room table, he turned to you, wrapping his arms around your waist.  “Sweetheart, pretty please can we run my lines again? I’ve been thinking about how I can add more passion into my character to really emphasise his emotions in those tough scenes.” 

You absolutely couldn’t say no to him. You was so proud of how much work he was putting into this show and how perfect he wanted it to be, but you also couldn’t say no to those gorgeous blue puppy eyes. 

It had been 45 minutes since you started running lines, you were now sitting on the dining room table swinging your legs back and forth and you couldn’t take your eyes off Chris pacing round the table, the anger and passion in his voice as he recalled his lines. You could feel the heat pooling towards the bottom of your stomach as he ran his hand through his hair, his chest flexing as he shouted his lines, the gruff tone of his voice only making your panties wetter. You were biting your lip gently as Chris pulled you out of your daydream. 

“Y/N are you alright, are you getting bored?” You shook your head quickly. 

“God no, course not babe. You’re doing great, I’m just slightly distracted.” 

Just like always, Chris could read your mind and knew exactly what you were thinking. He sauntered closer to you, placing himself in front of you and sliding your legs open so he could stand between them. Placing his script down, he used one finger to tilt your chin up to look him in the eyes. 

“Is there something you like baby?” 

Your breath hitched in your throat as he called you baby and ran his finger across your bottom lip before ghosting a kiss on them. He leaned down towards you, one hand running down towards your panties as he kissed along your neck and up to your ear, before mumbling..”I think we can take a break”. 

————————

You chuckled to yourself, remembering so vividly on how you both broke the dining room table that night. 

“Oh, is something funny sweetheart?” Chris bought you out of your daydream. Clearing your throat, you mumbled an apology before changing the subject straight back to the interview. 

“Okay, let me ask you a question now Y/N. I want to know how it feels to be like a superwoman as you managed to film and promote your latest movie whilst we were planning our wedding?” 

You giggle lightly and smile broadly, remembering the chaos that was your life the six months leading up to your wedding. 

“Honestly, Chris, that feels like a blur these days. Planning our wedding was much more work than filming and doing press tours, but somehow we made it work. Don’t make it sound like I did it so elegantly though, I was an absolute bridezilla those six months and I don’t know how you put up with me.” You smile at each other through the screen, remembering the fond memories of your engagement. “But in all honesty, it was just quite a strict schedule with minimal sleep. I loved filming and the press tour for my film was so much fun, as was planning our wedding so even though at the time, it felt like an impossible task, looking back and seeing how well the film did and how perfect our wedding day was, it makes the hard work worth every second.” 

Your smile falters slightly at the thought of some of the more stressful times during that stretch, but quickly returns at the look of love in Chris’ eyes as he hangs onto your every word.

————————

You had spent the day at home trying to organise the seating plan for your wedding which was quickly approaching in 3 months, whilst Chris had been out all day filming. 

Unfortunately before Chris came home, you had pulled your heels on, ready to walk out the door to your awaiting car to take you to your latest movie press panel. A sad sigh was all you managed before you hauled yourself out the door for the 2 hour interview with your cast mates. 

The panel had finished at 9pm and you had jumped straight back in the car, so the driver could take you home to Chris, silently hoping you could catch him for a bit before he went to bed. You knew he would be calling it a night quite early as you had woken up to his side of the bed empty and cold that morning, meaning he had left the house before sunrise. You felt a sudden pang of sadness about how little time you’d spent with your fiancé over the past 3 months. It was no ones fault, you were both busy but it felt like you were actively avoiding one another. You shook your head as a few tears fell. 

As a welcome distraction on the way home, you had opted to start looking at flower arrangements for the bridesmaids bouquets, but you could feel yourself drifting in and out of consciousness, feeling so tired and drained from months of final filming and wedding planning. 

It was just after 10:15pm as you stepped out the car, thanking the driver before heading up the path to your house. You could see the lights were off, bar the hallway light that Chris had left on for your arrival home. You sighed sadly as you stepped in the door to the quiet abyss. You removed your heels, not wanting to make any unnecessary noise, knowing that Chris was up just as early tomorrow.

Walking through to the kitchen, you could see Chris had left you some pizza takeout on the side but you didn’t have the energy to eat, just wanting to curl up in bed. 

Heading straight into the ensuite to your bedroom, you quietly took off your make-up and cleansed your face to hide your tear-stained cheeks. Creeping back into the bedroom, you stood looking in the mirror of your dresser as you put on one of Chris’ t-shirts; you looked defeated and utterly glum. As you stood there for a moment longer, trying to collect your emotions and bottle them away, you heard Chris stir. 

“Babe, come to bed.” 

You felt your shoulders relax at the rough sound of his sleepy voice. Quickly wiping under your eyes once more, you turned round to see him holding the duvet up so you could crawl under and into his waiting arms. 

Immediately relaxing into the mattress, goosebumps arose on your skin as Chris trailed his fingers up your side to pull you into him. You let yet another tear fall from your eye at the fact that this was the first time you’d actually seen him today, frustrated that work and wedding planning was taking up all your time. This didn’t go unnoticed by Chris as he caught the lone tear with his finger, wiping it away. 

“I just want our wedding to be perfect and my movie to do well without having to sacrifice all my time with you” you whimpered, hiding your face in Chris’ chest.

“Sweetheart, I’m marrying you, it will all be perfect. Get some sleep, I love you.” Chris gave you a kiss on your forehead before falling straight to sleep, you dozing off straight after him, with heart full of love. 

————————

The interview was coming to an end and you couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed with happiness of getting to spend so much time talking to Chris but also dread of not knowing when you would get to see his face again before you finally got to go back home in a months time.

“Okay sweetheart, I have one last question and it is one that Variety suggested for both of us to answer. What is the best part about being married to someone in the same profession as you?” You smile at Chris through the screen, trying to think of only one thing to pick. 

“Well, it is difficult to pick one, because there are so many great reasons but also it is really hard being married to someone in the same profession as you. I always try to be honest with our fans and in interviews, so I don’t want to sugarcoat it. We have to go long periods of time not getting to see each other and always having such high pressured schedules doesn’t allow a lot of time for married life.” You sigh at the look of sadness that has washed over both your faces. “However I count my lucky stars every day for having such a supportive and understanding husband like you.” You notice Chris blush at your answer before nodding along with you, agreeing with what you’ve said. 

“I have to agree with you sweetheart. There is definitely some poetic justice in the fact that we met on set, both doing the job we love so fondly and here we are, 16 years later, married and getting to celebrate our achievements every single day together.” 

You have to told back the tears as the interview finishes and Chris disappears from your screen. Even though you have demanding jobs, you could not feel luckier to be married to a man like Chris and you couldn’t wait to go back home to him. 

[solarwonux]

6. “Feel free to admire me.”

19.  “Give me a kiss please.”

non!idol taehyung x f!reader

warnings:  angst if you squint, slight mentions of going crazy, a teeny tiny bit suggestive, minimal editing, 

note: helloooo, thank you for reading, I hope you enjoy this one, and if it’s bad I apologize from the bottom of my heart, it’s my first time writing anything but academic papers in like 3 months. And it’s my first time writing for bts, so i’m dusting off the cobwebs. Either way thank you for reading it means the world to me.xx

masterlist || drabble game 

You were acting strange

Taehyung noted as he watched you scramble around the apartment, running a frustrated hand through your hair, mumbling underneath your breath as you tore the apartment apart looking for your glasses.

You had been doing that a lot. Living up in the clouds, distracted. Your mind racing to the point you would forget what you were saying mid-sentence or misplacing things you had just been using in obvious places. He knew something was bothering you, keeping you from grounding yourself back down to Earth, and he so badly wanted to know. But after almost being together for almost a decade he knew that asking you what was happening would only frustrate you and keep you from coming back down to Earth. To him.

So he sat back, a small smiling forming against his face. He cradled his almost empty wine glass between his index and middle fingers, the setting sun reflecting off your glasses on the coffee table. The same place you had left them earlier before walking to the bathroom to wash your face. He could tell you, to stop your endless pacing and ease your mind a little. But he was oddly amused as you made your way around the living room, retracing your steps, endlessly.

The movie the two of you had been watching, paused. The wine bottle you had refused to share with him was reaching its wilts end as he kept refilling it every time you sat down next to him silently looking around for a few minutes and then getting up again to make your way around the living for the umpteenth time.

“I’m going crazy Tae.” You blew out a raspberry, blowing away the few strands of hair that had escaped your ponytail. “How can my glasses just disappear, I was literally just wearing them.” You threw your hands up in the air as you made your way into the kitchen. Lifting up the stacks of manila folders you had brought home from work to peacefully look over throughout the long weekend.

“Have you checked the bathroom?” He said, hiding his smirk behind his glass of wine taking the last sip. You scoffed, throwing your arms up in the air before walking down the hallway to the bathroom.

Taehyung shook his head reaching for the wine bottle on the coffee table. “Your eyesight isn’t even that bad, you don’t need your glasses to watch the movie.” He said emptying the rest of the wine into his glass and sat back on the couch, tilting his head to the side as you stomped your way back into the living room.

You gave him a pointed look before rounding the corner of the couch and sitting down next to him again. “Babe, I’m sorry.” You exclaimed dramatically, hiding your face into the side of his body, making him laugh softly. “I’m going insane and now you’re stuck with me till death do us apart.” You whined, huffing out a loud sigh. His soft boyish laugh ringing in your ears. The slight irritation you had gained during your impossible quest, bubbling in the pit of your stomach.

“Sounds like a dream.” The sarcasm burning brightly in his vocal chord and you could almost feel him rolling his eyes. “Now, give me a kiss please.” He placed his fingers underneath your chin lifting your face up gently as he puckered his lips drastically.

Annoyed you pushed his face away, crossing your arms in front of you and pouting your lips. Mock hurt evident in his features. “You don’t deserve one all you did was watch me as I slowly lost my mind.”

“I can’t admire my beautiful wife now?”

“I mean...feel free to admire me, but not when I’m one step away from being admitted into a psych ward.” You leaned over, taking his wine glass out of his hand, bringing it up to your lips. A drink is what you needed. A small sip to calm down your racing thoughts, before you got up to look for your glasses again.

You threw your head back, waiting for the red liquid to reach your lips, savoring the taste before it even reached your mouth or your taste. And when it did, when it coated your lips enough for a drop to enter your mouth, your eyes grew wide in panic, remembering why you had been refused to drink with Taehyung tonight and why you had been so up in your head lately.

Taehyung watched as the scene unfolds in front of him. Instantly he had felt your rush of panic and his worries got the best of him. Acting on his fight or flight instincts he immediately took the glass from your hand, setting it down on the coffee table next to your forgotten glasses. “What’s wrong? I didn’t want to ask, but now you’re worrying me.” He placed his hands on your shoulders shaking you slightly, bringing you back to him.

Your eyes were glossy and distant as you breathed out a sigh looking into his eyes for a slight second before planting your gaze on the beige throw pillow you had been hugging earlier. It had helped ease your nerves before and now with Taeyhyungs piercing stare, burning holes into the top of your head. It was failing to do what you had wanted it to do. Comfort you.“I don’t know if I’m ready to tell you.” You whispered, playing with the little tassel on one of the four ends. “I mean I want to tell you, but I don’t know why I am so scared.”

“Is it something bad?” He said carefully. He could feel the air getting caught in the back of his throat as he tried to keep himself from thinking of every possible scenario, good or bad, to have you acting the way you were.

You lifted your head, chewing on your bottom lip. “It depends.” You shrugged slightly avoiding his eyes and settling upon the tv screen. The paused movie nowhere to be seen as it was now asking you if you wanted to keep watching.

“Depends on what? You’re scaring me.” The softens of his voice faltering as his grip on your arms got tighter, trying to keep himself from breaking down.

“On your reaction. I thought I would have more time to come to terms with it but I don’t think I can hold it in any longer,” you said in a haste. Your words combining with one another as Taehyung tried to keep up with your fever.

“Just say it...please. I can feel my heart trying to leave my body.”

“Taehyung,” you took a deep breath, digging your nails into the pillow, and turned to face the only man you had ever loved. “I’m pregnant.” You whispered with wide eyes. Maybe you weren’t going crazy but after finding out three weeks ago that you were with child, the thought of telling your husband the news was driving you to the point of no return.

It wasn’t like you and Taehyung didn’t want kids, the two of you had been trying for more than a year with little to no success. But the second you saw the little positive symbol on the pink and white stick, you couldn’t believe it. So you took another and another and another until you had about ten positive pregnancy tests staring back at you, mocking you. All you could do was cry.

Taehyung’s eyes sparkled with tears as he threw the pillow you were holding to the side and hugged you tightly. He buried his face into the crock of your neck leaving behind a trail of loving kissing trying to comfort your shaking form.

His biggest wish had finally come true.

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier you big idiot?” He raised his head. His hands trailed up your spine until they reached your head. His thumbs swiping underneath your eyes taking your falling tears with him. “Why were you scared?”

“I just...it finally happened and I couldn’t believe it. I thought that if I said it outloud I would wake up from a dream or something.” You hiccuped.

Taehyung shook his head in disbelief a slight chuckle falling out of his lips as he leaned over and kissed your cheek. “That head of yours is your biggest enemy. No wonder you were in such a dreamlike daze the last two weeks.”

“Are you happy?” You pouted slightly, holding his arms gently, scared he would let you go.

“I’m more than happy, I’m so excited. I could literally run down the street naked, waking up the whole neighborhood, risking a public offense violation, just to let the whole world know that I am finally going to be a dad”

You laughed, throwing your arms around his neck and bringing him closer to you. “I’m starting to regret ever saying anything, I should’ve just kept it a secret for the next eight months.”

“Hmm, and here I was thinking that I should probably tell you where you left your glasses. Now I think I’m going to keep it a secret for the next eight months.” Teahyung stuck out his tongue at you before settling into the couch and bringing you along with him, making you whine in annoyance.

“I knew you knew where they were.” You grumbled crossing your arms in front of your chest. “I’ll let you decide on the first letter of your childs name if you tell me.” You sang, poking his side gently, making him yelp out in pain.

He turned to you, pouting, rubbing his side in pain, “first letter and their first outfit when we leave the hospital.” He challenged, sticking his hand out for you to shake.

“Kim Taehyung, it looks like you got yourself a solid deal.” You said, encasing your hand in his, giving it a firm shake before pulling you into his side. His arm entrapping you to keep you from moving and placed a loving kiss against your forehead.

“You left them on the coffee table.” He pulled away, presenting your clear framed glasses to you. You let out a sigh of relief, quickly grabbing them, slippin them on and cuddling into his side.

“You could’ve told me earlier, I really thought I was losing my mind for a second  back there.”

“If I didn’t would I have found out about our lovely baby bean?” He grabbed the remote, pressing the ‘continue watching’ button on the t.v. and unpaused the movie.

“I see your point.” You settled further into the side, finally letting yourself enjoy the movie. Earlier you had been ansty, pushing his hands away as they kept  traveling to your lower belly. Though, his intentions were far naughtier then what was playing in your mind. But you were afraid he would finally figure it out.

Five minutes

Five minutes was all it took before Tayhung paused the movie again and sat up in panic. “Oh my god,” He mumbled before turning to face you, eyes wide in horror and shook. “Babe I’m going to be a dad.”

You laughed, squishing his cheeks in between the palm of your hands. “Yeah I know, I thought I made that pretty clear a few minutes ago.” You teased as his eyes raced from your face and down to your midsection.

“I know but I was thinking about how we had sex last night and now I’m scared. Like what if we hurt the baby, what if I hurt the baby.”

“I don’t think that’s possible. You’re fine Tae, just play the movie.” You patted his cheeks lightly before getting up and walking into the kitchen, “do you want popcorn?”

He stood up and quickly made his way to the kitchen, leaning his forearms against the counter, watching as you placed the bag of popcorn into the microwave. “How can you be so calm about this, how do we know the babies okay? We need to call the doctor now and book an appointment.”

“Stop worrying, I’m sure baby is fine, but you can ask the doctor in a week during my first ultrasound.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive, now do you want popcorn or not?”

“That’s a stupid question, I always want popcorn.”

[dreamingofaizawa]

Leaving Him, Finding Her

Professor! Aizawa Shouta x Fem! Student! Reader

College AU

***18+ Fic***

If you are not 18 please make your way to the nearest exit, thank you and enjoy the rest of your day.

Warnings: smutty smut, HEAVY DADDY KINK, DD/LG dynamic, Daddy Dom Aizawa, complete sub reader, a temporary collar cuz I have a thing for collars (don’t come @ me, a real collar was too big a commitment to put in a forbidden hookup), praise kink in here, light oral (female receiving), bondage, shibari, unprotected sex, Aizawa being softer than a baby’s bottom, angst, fluff

Word count: 4.6 k

Author’s Note: Alright, ngl I cried writing the end to this cause I’m a little bitch when it comes to the softness after angst. Like, the only thing that makes me cry more than a sad ending is a happy one, and writing these scenes as they pley out is making me absolutely fucking weak. Also, my daddy and praise kinks are beaming, and so is my absolute love for aftercare. I’m lowkey super proud of this one, I’m a sucker for soft doms. 

Update: I'm editing it. Timestamp: 3:23 am Fri, May 14. (Very minimal) Editing completed: 4:20 am Fri, May 14.

Enjoy the read~

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He's beautiful. Ruggedly handsome in every way. Long, wavy, raven locks pulled into a slightly messy bun, revealing the scruff kept just barely tame on his strong jawline and chin. The dark circles under obsidian bloodshot eyes did nothing to steal from his allure. The scar under his eye and a frame too muscular for a simple college professor made you wonder what he’d done before lecturing in your physics class. It also had you wondering other things.

‘(y/l/n)’

What exactly did all that muscle look like? What did it feel like? Running your fingers down his neck and chest, trailing down his abdomen. Or crawling your hands up his legs, caressing his thick, muscled thighs. At night your thoughts ran rampant with images of your physics professor. A very naked professor, to be specific. And you had a title for him that you’d never want to reveal outside of your dorm bedroom.

‘Miss (y/l/n)’

What did he look like under the white dress shirt that was just slightly tight over his chest? And his pants that were fitted perfectly around his thick legs. You're experienced enough to know how submissive you are, and you wonder if he’d be a good dom, wonder if you could be a good enough sub for him. What did it feel like to have him bend you over his desk? Or tie you up as he ravaged your body? What did it feel like to let him have his way with you, to give him control…

“Miss (y/l/n)!”

You jump, immediately snapped back to reality, and recognize who had called your name. Your words came tumbling out without a second thought.

“Yes da-” you catch yourself, “Mr. Aizawa!... Yes, Mr. Aizawa?” Your face burned and your eyes shot wide at the fact that you’d nearly just called him the title from your fantasies. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to notice, and neither did any of your other classmates.

“If you aren’t paying attention perhaps the material is not challenging enough for you?” You swallow and shake your head.

“No, sir! I’m just a little tired, that’s all! I’ll be more attentive.” He raises an eyebrow at you, clearly unconvinced.

“This isn’t the first time you’ve been distracted during class. See me during office hours.”

With that he continued with the lecture on centripetal force. You groan inwardly, though you only have yourself to blame.

Your grades hadn’t slipped, even if you were zoning out in class. Mr. Aizawa hit the nail on the head when he asked if the material wasn’t difficult enough for you. You’d studied physics before, it was simple for you, and you only needed to ask for notes from your classmates to be sure you did the work the way your professor wanted it to be done. The only reason you’d been enrolled in the class was because it was a requirement, and it was your last year so you had to take it. If it weren’t for your smoking hot professor you’d have hated every second you needed to sit in the lecture hall. He released the class, and you quickly packed up and left, not seeing the darkness in your professor’s eyes as he watched you leave.

It's dark by the time you still back onto campus, Mr. Aizawa’s office hours are strangely extremely late. There's no movement in the dark hallways, the only light coming from underneath Mr. Aizawa’s office door as you approach. The fact that the institution is large enough to give every teacher their own office is beginning to bother you, your overactive imagination getting the better of you.

After a breath, you knock lightly, answered by a muffled, 'Come in'. Another breath. You twist the handle and step into the office, and the man mumbles, 'Close the door behind you please'. You oblige, though your heart is beating out of your chest.

“You wanted to see me, professor?” He hums, eyes flicking up to you as he sets a red pen down on the desk.

“Yes, miss (y/l/n). You haven’t been paying attention in my lectures.” You look down at your hands clasped in front of you, nerves and shame beginning to eat at your resolve.

“I apologize, I’ve been tired lately,” you lie, sticking with your story from earlier.

“And yet you have one of the highest grades in the class.” You keep your eyes glued to your hands, which are now fidgeting nervously. The silence is beginning to nag at your mind, your nerves buzzing.

“I think you’re lying to me.” Your eyes widen momentarily, then you force a confused expression as you look up at your professor.

“I’m not sure what you mean…” He leans forward in his chair, his elbows holding his weight on his desk.

“I mean I think you’re distracted for other reasons. If you were struggling to sleep it would be evident. I’m a prime example,” he motions to his face. You bite the inside of your lip, your heart thumping loud in your ears.

“W-what other reasons would I be distracted?” He stands up and slowly makes his way around his desk, stopping mere inches in front of you. The close proximity has your breath shallowing and your heart pounding. You keep your eyes locked onto his, something akin to fear - no, maybe it's closer to obedience - not letting you look away. He narrows his eyes at you, a skeptical but knowing look.

“Don’t think I didn’t catch that little title you let slip in class earlier.” Your eyes blow wide, your breath hitching in your throat. He walked to the door, locked it and walked back to you, his hands shoved in his pockets.

“I d-don’t…” Your words fall short when he leans down, his breath hot on your ear and neck.

“Don’t lie. What was it you almost called me?” Your body shook, your breaths jagged, but you don't answer. At your silence, he nearly growled in your ear. His left arm snakes around your waist, pulling your body into his. His right hand comes up under your chin, tilting your head up to look at him.

“Answer me, kitten.” The commanding tone of his voice sends shivers down your spine. You take a small breath before closing your eyes and answering.

“D-daddy. I...almost called you daddy.” He hums, the sound rumbling through your body.

“Open your eyes. Look at me.” You obey nearly instantly, swallowing as you meet his gaze. He let out a small sigh, words ghosted from his lips.

“Good girl.” The praise makes your entire body shudder, and a small smirk tugs at the corner of his lips.

“Now, tell me why you would call your professor ‘daddy’ so automatically.” You felt your face burn, a mix of embarrassment and arousal coursing through your veins.

“I… I think about you… at night…” He tilts his head and quirks a brow, urging you to continue. Your voice is shaky, your eyes struggling to keep eye contact as you reveal your darkest secrets to the man at the center of them.

“I call you daddy when I’m alone in bed…”

“Or when you’re in the middle of a lecture.” You bite your bottom lip and nod as he finishes your sentence.

“Such a naughty little girl, aren’t you. What should you say when you do something wrong?” You swallow thickly, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I’m sorry.” His hand under your jaw turns and grips it hard, just enough to make you wince.

“I’m sorry, what?” Your eyes widen and your jaw quivers. Is he asking what you think he is?

“I-I’m sorry… Daddy." His grip on your jaw loosens as he turns your face to the side, leaning in and leaving a kiss under your ear.

“That's right. Such a good girl.” Your body shakes again, the feeling of his scruff on your cheek, his lips on your skin, and his voice in your ear, making your body react on its own.

“Do you have classes tomorrow, kitten?” You search your brain for the information he’s asking for, closing your eyes in concentration. After a few moments, you find the answer.

“N-no…” He pulls completely away from you, moving behind his desk and leaving you dazed. You watch, your body still recovering from whatever just happened, as he gathers his belongings. He holds the door open, turning to you.

“Come now kitten.” You blink at him, your mind trying to make sense of the situation. You follow him anyway, letting your body move on its own.

He’s a few steps ahead of you, and you follow him as he walks to his car, opening the passenger door. You get in, not quite able to question what’s happening, but trusting the man regardless. Soon the car pulls into a driveway, and you get out and follow the black haired man into the house, still dazed. His voice brings your attention to him, his hand under your chin again.

“Do you want this, kitten?” You nod.

“Use your voice, pretty girl.” God, hearing the praise is making your head spin.

“Yes. I want you Daddy.” His thumb strokes your cheek idly, grounding you in the moment.

“Good girl. Do you know what a safeword is?” You nod, the concept is more than familiar.

“Yes Daddy.”

“Do you have one?” Another nod.

“Gemini.” His hand lifts your chin gently as he leans down and slots his lips against yours. Your body relaxes, sinking into the kiss, focused on the sensations of his touch. His lips are soft, gentle, and his hands smooth down your back, landing on your hips.

He separates from you, looking down at your half-lidded eyes and blissed out state. You're already slipping into subspace. Your mind is floating, wanting to zero in on something. Anything. Your eyes aren’t quite focused, searching Aizawa’s face for a focal point. He recognizes that look. You need a platform to stand on, an anchor, and you need it desperately. He grabs your wrist and pulls you along behind him. He reaches into his bedside drawer and pulls out a small, but sturdy, black fabric choker. A play collar. Moving behind you, he loops it around you and clasped it at the back of your neck. When it's secure, he quickly moves in front of you and loops his finger under the material, giving a gentle tug. You shudder and take a deep breath, your eyes fluttering closed. It was enough. He hums, stroking your cheek gently.

“Is that better kitty?” You open your eyes to look up into his, and he swears there are hearts shining in them.

“Yes. Thank you daddy.” He pulls you into another kiss, this one more passionate. When his tongue licked at your lips you let your mouth fall open, his tongue searching the wet cavern fervently. He pulls away and tugs your sweater up over your head, tossing it somewhere in the room, doing the same with your bra. With your top half bare he pushes you backward until your knees hit the bed and you fall onto it. He leans over you, leaving soft kisses along your collarbones as he removes your jeans and panties.

Completely naked, he lets his eyes rake over your form laid out in front of him. A small, elated sigh rolls from his lips.

“So pretty, kitten.” Your eyes flutter closed from the praise.

“Thank you Daddy.” Aizawa groans and leans down to kiss and lick at your neck, letting his hands smooth over your hips and legs.

“Such a good girl. So obedient for Daddy.” He feels your body shiver beneath his fingers from that bit of praise. Getting up off the bed he reaches into a different drawer, pulling out three bundles of rope. Turning back to you, he gives a command.

“Middle of the bed, kitten. On your back, arms up.” At the order, you move, getting into the position he specified. 

He crawls over and begins to tie your wrists to the bar at the headboard, the rope secure, but not too tight to be uncomfortable. When he’s done with your wrists, he moves down to your legs. One by one, he lifts them and bends them at the knee, tying your ankle to your upper thigh, and spiraling the rope up to your knee, tying knots down one side and up the other in a beautiful leg tie. Finished with his task, he leans back to admire his work. You’re nearly purring. You know how much you love being restrained, and this man had made you into an artwork, laying out for his eyes, completely at his mercy. He can see the doe-eyes you're giving him, see how still you're being, how trusting you are of him to take care of you. And he loves it.

He moves between your legs, you automatically spread them to give him room, and he leans over, whispering against your lips.

“Such a good girl for me,” before giving you a soft kiss.

“Stay still for me, pretty thing.” He gets off the bed and swiftly undresses, returning to you. You sigh out, elated as your eyes trace down his toned body, drinking in the sight of thick corded muscle rippling under scarred skin. Your gaze lands on his already erect member, thick and long, a prominent vein running underneath. You’d imagined what he could look like, but reality far outshone your imagination. The sheer awe shone through in your voice.

“You’re beautiful.” His eyebrows raise slightly, surprised at your words. Leaning down, he kisses your neck sweetly.

“Thank you kitten. Now let me take care of you.” Back between your legs, he sits on his knees and kneads your breasts in his hands, pulling and tweaking your already hardened nipples, making you mewl. Your skin feels hot at his touch, your body relishing in the pleasure his fingers give you. He leans down and takes a bud into his mouth, swirling his tongue and sucking it before pulling off with a small pop and moving to the other, giving it the same treatment. Rough hands grope and knead down your body, giving appreciative squeezes at your hips, before smoothing his palms down your pelvis. He sits back on his heels and gazes at your glistening pussy, already dripping with arousal. Swiping a finger up your slit, he gathers the slick there and brings it up to his lips, sucking your juices off his finger with a groan.

“You taste so sweet kitty.” You respond with a mewl and another ‘thank you’. He takes his finger and slides it into your heat, and you sigh at the sensation as he pumps it slowly, before adding a second finger. The stretch is wonderful, and he begins to curl and scissor his fingers, searching. You let out a small moan and your back arches slightly off the bed when his fingers curl and hit that spongy spot inside you.

“There it is. Does that feel good kitty?” You nod, floating on bliss.

“Yes, Daddy, it feels good.” He hums and returns his attention back to the task at hand, increasing his pace as he pumps his fingers. His other hand comes up to your pelvis, and his mouth latches onto your clit. The stimulation has you gasping and squirming under his ministrations, and the hand on your pelvis holds you still.

He slips his fingers out and holds them to your lips, and you open your mouth to suck your essence off of them.

You can feel the coil in your belly tighten, winding up as Aizawa hits all the right spots inside you that has you softly moaning and straining against your bindings. Your wet walls are fluttering around his fingers, his tongue lashing at your puffy nub.

“I can feel you. Cum for me kitty.” He reattaches his mouth to your clit and sucks harshly, his fingers digging into that soft patch inside you, and your walls clamp down as you come apart, the muscles in your abdomen tensing and arching your back off the bed. Aizawa releases your clit, but keeps pumping his fingers, letting you ride out your high.

“Such a good girl, kitty.” He pulls your hips up onto his knees as he rubs his painfully hard cock up and down your core, gathering the slick on his shaft. You desperately want to feel him inside you, but you still yourself and hold back your begging mewls. Your resilience and need to be obedient and good for him makes Aizawa groan.

“I want to hear you, kitten. Every sound you need to make, I want to hear it.” He lines himself up with your slicked hole as you nod. With that he pushes his cock into you, and you mewl out at the delicious stretch he’s giving you. You’re both panting as he bottoms out inside you and holds still, allowing you to adjust to him.

“You’re so tight babygirl. Feels so good inside you.” He grips your hips and begins a slow pace, grinding into you, making you moan and squirm, but it’s not enough.

“Please Daddy, harder, please.” The near growl that escapes him has you reeling.

“Since you asked so nicely, kitten.” He pulls out almost completely before slamming into you and setting a brutal pace, and you’re moaning out loud, your voice a sinful melody in Aizawa’s ears. Your limbs are struggling against the restraints, tugging and flexing hard. Before you know it, that coil is tightening again, pulling taut in the pit of your stomach, searing white hot pleasure pooling like magma. Your walls are fluttering again, and Aizawa reaches down to rub tight circles onto your clit, urging you to come undone. He’s pounding into you with reckless abandon, and as you feel yourself coming to that edge his hips begin to stutter, making known he’s close too. He angles his hips and ruts into you, hitting your g-spot mercilessly, and you’re pushed off the edge, moaning loud, toes curling, cumming hard and clamping down on his cock. A few more strokes, and he pulls out as he’s cumming, covering your chest and belly in his hot, thick cum. 

You’re both panting as you come down from your highs, exhausted and spent. After a few minutes, Aizawa gets up and disappears behind a door, returning with a damp washcloth. He cleans his cum off of you and tosses the cloth into a hamper, before beginning to untie your legs. Once they’re both free, he slowly pulls them out and massages them, relieving the slightly cramped muscles, and you’re sighing gratefully as the tension in your body is released. He does the same with your arms as you lay there, your body weak. When he’s done, he puts a palm on your cheek, and you nuzzle into his touch, tears beginning to form in your eyes.

“How are you feeling kitty?” You let the tears fall, the intensity of the night beginning to take a toll on your mind. He pulls your body into him, cradling you as you cry quietly, letting you ride out the emotions.

He rocks you in his arms, rubbing soothing circles into your back and whispering praises into your ear, until your cries subside into small hiccups. He leans back and looks down at you, nuzzling into his chest.

“You okay, (y/n)?” You nod and take deep breaths, relaxing in his arms.

“I’m okay. Thank you.” He hums and lifts you off the bed, carrying you into the bathroom. He plugs the drain and turns the handle, letting the tub fill with warm water. As it fills, he holds you close and places soft kisses on your face and lips, showering you with affection. When the tub is full he turns off the tap and sinks down into the water, your back to his chest, and the warm water soothes your aching body. Aizawa grabs the soap and washes you, massaging you as he goes. He scrubs shampoo into your hair, fingers massaging into your scalp making you hum appreciatively. He washes himself, then drains the tub and turns on the shower head to rinse the both of you. 

When you’re all rinsed, he steps out and dries himself with a towel, before helping you out and wrapping you with a fluffy towel of your own. Dried off, you leave the towel on the counter, and Aizawa scoops you up again and lays you down on the bed. He disappears again for a minute, and reappears with a glass of ice water, giving it to you to drink and climbing into bed.

When you finish sipping at the water, you leave it on the bedside table. Before you can move to get your clothes back on, Aizawa pulls you back into his chest, spooning you with his warm body.

“Sleep,” he grunts into your ear. You're too tired to argue, so you relax in his hold and let the blackness take over your mind.

You wake up in your professor’s arms. You turn to look at him, admiring his sleeping face. His voice startles you.

“It’s not very polite to stare.” Your face heats a little and you look away, suddenly shy.

“S-sorry.” He pulls you closer, nuzzling into your neck.

“It’s alright.” You sigh at the realization that this is going to end, that it has to end. You can’t share a bed with this man while you're his student, it could ruin both of you, moreso him. So you begin to move out of his arms, but he holds you tighter.

“Where do you think you’re going?” You sigh, a tired, sad sound.

“This can’t continue, Mr. - ”

“Shouta.” You blink.

“What?” He grunts, clearly unbothered.

“Call me Shouta.” You swallow down the lump in your throat.

“Shouta...this…can’t become a thing. You know that.” You can feel his breath on your neck as he sighs, and he releases you from his hold. Silently, you dress yourself. You dare to take a look back at him before you leave.

“Thank you, Shouta. I wish things were a little bit different.” He nods, whether in agreement or understanding you aren't sure.

“I’ll see you in class in a few days, (y/n).” You give a soft smile, and leave.

____

The few months before graduation were agonizing. Having to see Shouta three times a week drove you absolutely mad, and when you finally graduated you were almost happy that you didn’t have to see him again. But it was just as painful not seeing him. Your mind was riddled with the dark haired man for months after graduating. You’d lay awake at night wondering if you made the right choice, wondering if somehow you two could have met more often and kept the rendezvous a secret. Often you found yourself letting a few stray tears fall, wishing you’d been able to stay in bed with Shouta longer that morning. You were miserable. And you knew it was because even if the only intimacy you’d shared was the best sex you ever had, you had fallen madly, hilariously in love with your college physics professor.

____

Shouta stared up at his ceiling for what felt like the millionth time. His mind is on you. Always you. After you graduated, he knew he’d never see you again. And it killed him. Nearly 6 months had gone by, and he's still stuck on you, on your body. On your obedience. On your beautiful face sitting in his lecture hall. He’d seen you on the first day, and he was entranced by you nearly instantly. You were extremely smart, and he loved that. But he was a professional, a professor. Your professor. And you were his student. So he buried that attraction he felt and made sure to never let you see how much he wanted you. He only noticed you dazing off during class because he’d glance at you more often than he’d like to admit. He let it go, simply because your grades remained high. But that day he just happened to ask the class a question, and when nobody answered, he went to you because he knew how intelligent you were.

But when your words slipped from your mouth, something in him snapped. He knew there were very few explanations for you to use that title, all of them being you were thinking of someone using it. And by the near instant speed of your response, he could guess who was on your mind. That night was pure bliss. He loved every moment, and never regretted it. Even as you thanked him and walked out of his house, even knowing he may never get to spend another night with you, he didn’t regret anything. He let you walk away because that was the best thing to do. After you graduated, he could approach you again, and he’d get you back. But he couldn’t find you. 

In the time since graduation he’d told his best friend and fellow professor Hizashi Yamada about the complex situation. Hizashi felt for him, knowing when Shouta fell, he fell hard, and the situation is a bad one. He was never judgemental, as he’d had his fair share of forbidden romances. The blonde would visit him in class often, bringing a fresh cup of coffee for his sulking friend. The loss was affecting him more than he liked to admit, and his sleeping habits were bad enough as it is. Hizashi’s visits were always welcome, and a nice distraction, even if they were short. But he was still hooked on you.

He's sick of feeling so defeated. He's tired of feeling so lovesick. He needs a distraction. He needs coffee. He got up and showered, and got ready to drive to the nearest cafe a mile down the road. As he stood in line to order his coffee, he let his eyes wander the cafe, drinking in the soft pastel colors on the walls. It reminds him of you. You’d always wear pastel sweaters. Once again, his mind drifted and landed on you. 

And so did his eyes.

____

You had a day off work today. Deciding you didn’t want to sit around the house and sulk like you usually do, you took a shower, got dressed, grabbed your keys, wallet, phone, and a book to read, and headed to the cafe on the corner two blocks from your apartment. Sitting in the plush seat of the booth with your hot mocha latte, you cracked the book open and dove in. You got lost in the words on the pages, your mind living in the adventure written in black ink. You were ripped from your imagination when a deep voice interrupted you.

“Do you mind if I join you, kitten?” Your eyes froze on the page, jaw clenched, heart beating out of your chest. You tore your eyes from the book and looked up at none other than Shouta Aizawa. 

You haven’t seen him in almost 6 months, and the man still plagued your thoughts. But the sheer joy you felt seeing him overtook you as tears fell from your eyes. Not even a moment later, you leapt from your seat and threw your arms around his shoulders. He wraps his arms around your waist and holds you tight, afraid you’d slip from him again. You cry softly into his shoulder, letting yourself enjoy the moment with the man you know you love. You can’t help the words coming out of your mouth.

“I missed you so much, Shouta. I couldn’t stand not seeing you.” Somehow, he holds you tighter.

“I missed you too, kitten.” He reaches a hand up to pet your hair as he leans back, his dark eyes peering deep into your own.

“I’m here now. And you’re not my student anymore. So if you’d let me, I’d like to take you on a date.”

You freeze in place and look up at him, shocked at what you're hearing. You don’t know if he loves you the way you do him, but in this moment you know he has very real feelings for you. Like it's instinct, you lean in and kiss him passionately, letting your tears wash away the pain you felt ever since you left him that morning. When you broke away you were both breathless, and you nod your head frantically.

“I’d love to go on a date with you Shouta.” A genuine smile spreads across his face, a clear show of his happiness.

“Would you like to come back to my place?” You nod again, and grab your book and phone and follow him out to his car.

This time, you had no reason to leave.

This time, he had no reason to let you go.

This time, you’d stay.

[consumeconstantly]

The Only Antidote is a Kiss

Summary: Scarecrow always did come up with the most whacky chemical formulas to test on people. Red Hood gets dosed with his latest toxin, and the only way to cure it is with a kiss. The only candidate? Long time rival and almost enemy, Ladybird.

____________________________________________________

“No,” Red Hood said, resolutely. “No way in hell.”

Red Robin’s exasperated voice crackled over the comm. “Hood, if you don’t, you’re going to die.”

“Do you think I care? Death is better.” 

“I would say that’s insulting if I didn’t feel the exact same way.” Ladybird nonchalantly twirled a yoyo at her side. “Besides, ten minutes is plenty of time to get him someone else.”

“You two are in the middle of nowhere. It’s thirty minutes to the nearest city.”

“Yeah, but the suburbs are always an option. You Bats always seem to miss the obvious solution.”

“I’m not kissing her,” Red Hood repeated.

“I know that you two are…” Red Robin tried to find a more delicate way to word their relationship, “Not always on the best of terms, but you are on the same side right now. Ladybird, you don’t want Red Hood to die, do you?”

Plying Ladybird was always easier than trying to convince Red Hood. The woman had a heart of gold. Today? No such luck. 

“He’s not going to die,” Ladybird scoffed. “If he dies over this instead of the many, many, many assassination attempts that I saved him from, I’ll feel insulted. But I’m also not going to help. I’m not going to kiss an unwilling party, and certainly not one with a mug as ugly as Red Hood.”

“You’ve never even seen my face!” Red Hood argued from safely inside his beauteous red bucket.

“Yeah, well you’ve never seen mine either, and yet somehow, you have no issue with calling me disfigured every time our paths cross.”

“You’re wearing a mask. Only people who are horribly scarred wear full face masks.”

“Oh, so you’re admitting you’re ugly then?”

“No, I’m wearing a helmet, not a mask. Big difference.”

Ladybird barely stopped herself from bashing her head against the cement and steel wall. If the action didn’t break her mask, she would have considered going through with it. “God, this is why I’m not going to kiss him, Red Robin. Can’t you use one of those zeta things and drop in a girl for him to make out with?”

“You know they don’t work like that.”

“I wouldn’t know, it’s not like I’m in the Justice League.”

“Not for a lack of trying! We’ve offered you the position at least ten different times.”

“Yeah, on the condition that I get Red Hood to join up too. That certainly doesn’t sound like you guys actually want my help.”

“Nine minutes on the clock,” an automated voice reminded them.

“I say we blow this popsicle stand,” Red Hood pointed a finger up at the cement ceiling.

“Wow, what a stupendously original idea, Red Hood. It’s almost like the next thing out of your mouth might be something vaguely resembling intelligence. Oh wait, that’s right. We can’t get out of this hell hole because there’s three feet of cement on every side of us and we have no weapons that can help.”

“I haven’t had a crack at it, yet.”

“Be my guest. I’ll sit back and laugh at your failed attempts.” Ladybird reclined on a wall. “We both know that between the two of us, I’m the one who’s better at escape and solutions that don't require firearms. You don’t think with either one of your heads, you think with your AK-47.”

“My babies are all I need to get the job done. Your plans are always so unnecessarily convoluted.”

“They’re convoluted so I can cover my tracks instead of leaving evidence, debris, and dead bodies behind.”

“Uh, guys? Can you have your spat after Hood’s life is out of immediate danger?”

“No,” both of them chorused, immediately glaring at each other for speaking in sync.

“I doubt Scarecrow actually came up with a formula that will make you die if you don’t kiss someone of the opposite gender within ten minutes. That seems like the kind of chemical compound that’s featured in all of those really trashy romance novels, except instead of being unable to control your instincts, you die.” Ladybird considered the empty vial on the floor. “I’m confident that Red Hood can ride this out with minimal damage. Even if he does get horny, it’s not like he’s going to go for me-- drug induced state or not, he can’t stand my guts.”

“Can I just say that I don’t want to bank his life on that assumption?”

“It’s not like your life is the one at stake. Just try to get someone out here that can break down this welded door for us sooner, rather than later.” Ladybird gives Red Hood a once over. “Besides, if he does try anything, we all know that I’m more than capable of tying him up.”

#

“Hey, why don’t you use that Lucky Charm of yours?”

“Do you think I didn’t think of that already? That was one of the first things I considered.”

“So why didn’t you use it?”

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe the fact that after I do, I detransform within five minutes? Not a big fan of exposing my identity, plus it’s not like anybody’s in any real danger because we’re locked up here. Scarecrow’s tied up, the goons that welded the door shut on us aren’t capable of using their brains, and a team is going to bust us out in thirty minutes anyways.”

For the millionth time, Red Hood pounded his shoulder against the steel weld, hoping that something would give. Nothing happened.

A beep sounded. 

“Ten minutes have passed.”

“See?” Ladybird crowed triumphantly. “I was right. Nothing’s--”

Red Hood fell to the floor, clawing at his chest.

“... happening. I jinxed it, didn’t I? I guess I’ll use it, then.”

Ladybird called for a lucky charm. No antidote fell into her hand. Just a sheet of paper, saying Kiss him.

“You’ve got to be kidding me. Tikki, don’t do me dirty like this!”

“Tikki? Who’s Tikki? What did the Lucky Charm give you?”

A wet cough sounded from underneath Red Hood’s helmet. He started to gasp for air.

Ladybird didn’t like Hood, but Red Robin was right. She had grown fond of him after saving his ass so many times. She wasn’t just going to let him die, especially not when she could help him. With a bone weary sigh, she knelt next to Red Hood. 

“I guess we’re doing this, aren’t we? Red Robin, comms off.”

“Off? But Hood sounds like--”

“Off,” she repeated, firmly. “Or I’ll break them.”

The telltale sign of static ceased in her ears.

Ladybird held Red Hood by his shoulders, maneuvering his mask off. 

“I hope you’re ugly,” she whispered.

He was not.

#

Even with blood on his lips, Jason Todd was unfortunately attractive. 

“Gonna--” he coughed again, the spray of blood accompanied by a wheeze. “Bless me with your face before I die?”

“I can’t believe that you’re still snarky while you’re on death’s door.” Ladybird touched the full face mask that she added during her years as a vigilante in Gotham. She still has the usual Ladybug eye cover, so her identity is safe. But the noh mask provides a sense of safety to her. She’s loathe to take it off, but in order for a kiss to work, it needs to be put aside. With a sigh, she places it on the ground and places a hand over Red Hood’s startlingly blue eyes.

“Kinky,” he spat. Ladybird grimaced. Why she ended up on this mission alone with Red Hood was beyond her, but they always ended up in the worst situations together somehow, anyways.

Her lips descended on his. 

Iron and sweat.

“Okay,” she said, wiping her lips with the hand that wasn’t preoccupied with shielding Red Hood’s eyes. “You feeling any better?”

He coughed again.

“Great, so Scarecrow was lying and I didn’t have to kiss you. You were just going to die anyways.” 

She placed her noh mask back on, then pressed a button on her comm. “You’re going to want to speed up the whole backup team. Looks like Scarecrow was lying.”

“You’re kidding me. Scarecrow never lies--”

Red Hood sat up shakily. 

“I’m fine, Replacement. Throat’s a little sore, but I’m fine.” 

“Good to know his MO hasn’t changed,” Ladybird remarked. “I’d suggest that you wipe your face with something. It’s covered in blood.”

“And Ladybird cooties.” Red Hood used his forearm to wipe the blood off. Ladybird had to admit that the man was objectively good looking. The artist in her wanted to take a picture or sketch him. The shock of white hair, symmetrical features, and prominent nose. His eyes had a certain darkness in them, like he had seen the worst of the world, but there was still a clarity to them that said he was fighting against those injustices. “C’mon, you’ve seen my face, don’t you think it’s time to exchange the favor?”

“Backup’s arriving in three,” interjected Red Robin.

“There’s nothing in it for me.” Ladybird tugged the hood of her cloak down lower. 

“Isn’t it weird that we kissed and I don’t know your face?”

“No.”

“You really are into some kinky shit.”

“Also no on that.”

“Then why not show me your face?”

“Stop being such a brat.”

“I know I’m older than you.”

“Bratiness isn’t measured in age, but in mental maturity. Which you have none of.”

“Please?”

“I’m almost tempted to take off my noh mask if only because that’s the first time I’ve ever heard you say the word please.”

“If I say it again, will you?”

“I’ll consider it.”

“Pretty please, Ladybird?”

“... Fine.” She’d get a laugh out of this anyways, and the team was minutes away from picking them up.

She took off her noh mask to reveal the red and black domino.

Red Hood cursed.

@jasonette-july-2k20

it’s wild that yall are liking my fics when i basically vomit these things up im honestly scared to look back at some of the ones that have been posted because i do not proof read or edit 

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

❛ THE DANGEROUS SHOW ❜

WORDS: 3k.

Warnings: swearing, unprotected sex, male and female oral sex, brief degradation, mentions of bodily fluids, Taza losing control.

❚❙ Aurora comments: blame my incredible @sonsofeorl for making this awesome and hot af gif for me, and my lovely wife @mayans-sauce for pushing me to write this masterpiece. This is for you, babies.

❚❙ A/N: this writing hasn’t been edited, you may find some grammar mistakes, I’m sorry about that. This writing also contains some words in spanish. If you find a description about body or a word out of place, or something that it makes you feel uncomfortable / unrepresented, let me know by a private message and I will change it delighted ❤

❚❙ GIF credits: to my wonderful @sonsofeorl ✨

❚❙ CHE ‘TAZA’ ROMERO MASTERLIST.

❚❙ MASTERLIST.

❚❙ JOIN MY TAG LIST.

Coming into your house in silence, you already know what is going to happen. He has always been a tender and gentle man, unless you ask for something else. But tonight? Tonight he can't hide the beast awake inside him after watching you give such a show in front of his brothers, with the only intention of teasing him. In his retinas is burned the image of you bending over the pool table and your tight ass under the shorts pointing straight at him. Doing it on purpose. That's where it all started.

Slamming the door behind his back, your husband's hands land on your hips, pushing you a step back to collide your body with his, as his strong arms wrap you to not let you escape. Automatically and by inertia, your eyelids get closed feeling his warmth breath against your neck. Taza can't forget the way you pretended that your pool stick was something like a pole to dance around on. The way your waist swinged hypnotically, the way your hair moved at the rhythm, the way your eyes were provoking him, watching you over the edge of his glass of whisky; having a sweet, sweet sip, while imagining all the things he would do to you as soon as you reached your house.

Dragging his rough lips over your bare shoulder, traveling your skin till finding the weak spot under your ear, Taza nails his teeth there. A soft bite that steals you a soft moan. Licking your bottom lip, in the meantime that you toss your arms to the back of his head, his right hand catches your throat, closing his ringed fingers around it increasing the heat invading your anatomy.

“Did you have fun?”

The husky and calm whisper falls onto your ear, making you shudder under his grip. You love with all your heart his loving, kind and delicate facade, but this dominant one? That's a higher level. Four words and you're about to start to beg for a punishment. He can feel under his fingers your throat heavily gulping, making you walk under the darkness to the closest window inside the ranch, looking for some moonlight.

“I asked you a question”.

Again this tone of voice that could put you to pray in a second, echoes within your head. At first, you nod. But then you add a faint yes. His soft chuckles against your exposed neck provoke a violent shake in your thighs up to your center, racing your heart as the arm around your lower abdomen tightens the grip.

“All my brothers were watching you, mi amor”. Placing smooth kisses on your neck, your husband travels his lips to the line of your jaw, tilting your head to reach your mouth. “Everyone watched how your sexy and desirable body, my body, danced sensually around the club; that magical eroticism following you everywhere, heating the atmosphere, hardening me like that”.

Taza presses your abdomen against his pelvis, slightly rubbing the rock under his jeans on your ass. The gasp sliding out your lips is really pathetic and needed; this is what you earn when you don't behave. Urging you to make the big window to the terrace a foothold while his arms leave your body, he takes a quick look of your ass raised back, as you're almost bent against the glass.

His fingers roam the waistband of your shorts dangerously, until rolling them down in just one pull, exposing your perfect ass not even covered by the fine black thong; only for his delight. Your husband drags his callously hands over your buttocks, separating them briefly to check that the piece of fabric between your folds is really wet. Taza can't help but lick his lips, feeling the lust taking power of his body, when he's able to see your sweet cunt shining with your delicious juices. He could be hours eating you out, causing you the heavenly orgasm anyone has given you in your life; but you have been only teasing him, and you don't deserve it.

Leaning forward and pressing his hard dick against your ass, he can't stop his body from slowly swinging against it, looking for some more friction to alleviate the pain of his jeans clenching around his crotch.

“If you had been a good girl, right now I would be fucking this tight soaked pussy who drive me insane”. His raspy murmurs are killing you, and your husband knows it to the perfection. “But you know… that you were not a good girl”.

“Fuck, no”. Grunting, your voice ends up breaking because of the imperious sensation of pleasure accumulating between your legs with every move he does. “I was a very, very bad girl”.

“Turn around and kneel, mi amor”.

When Taza uses that authoritative tone, you lose completely the control over your body, obeying automatically.

He can see in your eyes how desperate and anxious you are right now, making a simple gesture with his bearded chin to indicate you to place your hands behind your back and to not move unless he tells you to do it. Your orbs travel to his fingers, when you hear his belt being undone. You can't help but lick your lips feeling the hunger suffocating you, as soon as he rolls down his clothes enough to let his hardness spring free up to his abdomen, covered by the black shirt under his Mayans kutte.

Pumping himself with his eyes glued on yours, the pain starts to disappear to give way to the pleasure.

“Show me your tongue”.

Sticking it out of your mouth, you sit over your heels and the fabric of your shorts yet tangled in your ankles, before he rests his glans on your tongue. You're barely breathing, watching him enjoying his torture as you can't taste him as you would like.

“You want it?”

Answering as you can with another yes, Taza curves his lips in a naughty smile.

“You think you deserve it? Or should I just cum in your mouth, so you will learn to not play with me?”

The please as a painful beg comes from the deepest part of your throat, making him know you have learnt the lesson already, trying to come closer just the minimal inch enough looking for more. Placing his free hand on the back of your head, he pushes you softly, inviting you to lick all his length now free from his fingers; using them to lift up his shirt above his abdomen. The tip of his tongue tastes him from the base till closing your lips around his head. Gulping an uncontrollable moan, you make Taza chuckles deeply.

“Take it all, as I know you can, baby girl”.

His dark voice provokes you fierce shivers down your spine, welcoming him within your mouth without doubting, until he starts to press your head closer forcing your throat with his throbbing cock, waiting for a gag. You hold it as much as you can, till feeling the choking sensation that makes your husband growl loudly, tossing his head back with both eyes closed. But he doesn't lose his grip, earning a second gag and some coughs that shakes his whole anatomy and cuts his breathing for a second.

“Holy shit, mi amor…”

Pulling himself away, Taza sees the stripes of saliva connecting your lips and his dick, until you catch them with your tongue. Your lungs are being filled up with air furiously, asking for more in silence.

“You're so fucking needed, aren't you?”

Before you can answer him, he has slammed his rock inside your mouth again, crashing it against the wall of your throat. But this time, he lets you do the best you can do. Blow his soul out of his body. And you don't want to play anymore.

Your warm lips stretch his sensible skin, closing around it and bowing your head back and forth. Once and again. Maintaining eye-contact, and assuring yourself Taza is enjoying it. The pace is rude and fast, twirling your tongue all around his length, as you close your hands behind your back nailing your fingers in your palms. You can feel how wet your thong is, placed between your folds, thinking that maybe he won't be this petty if you please him enough, so he will give you a reward.

“You take me… so good, sweetheart”. He howls to the darkness of your place, barely illuminated for the moonshine, grabbing his shirt in a fist. “Such a dirty girl needed for his man's dick the whole fucking time, aren't you, ah…? I fucking bet you're wetting the floor”.

Of course you are. You can feel your warm juices spilling down your thighs, rubbing them desperate while watching him place his other hand on your head too. From now, you know you have lost the less control over the situation you could have had.

“You want it harder? Talk to me”. Taza demands pulling himself out and slightly squatting next to you.

“Yes, please”. Breathless, you nod your chin, as five fingers wrap tightly your throat. “I want it harder, please”.

“Open your mouth”. And you do without complaining, earning a spit from him into it. “Don't swallow it. Stand up”.

Obeying orders, you are bringed to the closest sofa where he has a sit after rolling down his jeans and boxers to his ankles.

“Take your clothes off”.

He could kill you with that dominant voice controlling you, getting rid of your sneakers and your socks, to continue by your jeans and your shirt. His eyes land automatically on your breasts. Your nipples are so hard that the fabric of your shirt was fucking you up.

“Kneel between my legs”.

Your husband doesn't have to tell you twice, kneeling down and putting your hands again to your back. His fingers jerk himself off, placing the other on your nape to lean it over his dick shining covered in your saliva.

“Spill it”.

The mix of your salivas fall down from your lips. Taza spreads it thoroughly with the pre-cum he collects using his thumb, feeling the warm and dense liquid also staining his tensed balls. And before previous notice, your husband pushes his hardness into your mouth. But this time, he doesn't show any mercy, forcing your cavity by pressing both hands on your head. In his mind still dancing the image of you sitting on his lap, under everybody's gazes, leaning over his ear and licking the sweet spot under it; purring like the much-needed whore you are for him. You can't help it, you love it. You love Taza more than you can explain. You love every single thing about him.

And your husband can't stop his hips from swinging roughly against your throat, choking you delightedly on his cock. He has lost control over his body, succumbing to his most animal instinct, as the knot in his lower abdomen becomes strong enough to make him know how close he is from the edge.

“C'mon, baby girl… Fuck… Suck my dick just like that and I'm gonna cream your throat down”.

The tears falling down your cheeks, because of the delicious effort, is getting mixed in your lips with his scent and your saliva. You're a complete mess right now, welcoming him without complaining, reaching the final act.

His loud and sloppy vocals fill up the whole ranch, forcing your mouth one last time. Raising up his hips and pressing your head down, till your nose is stuck in his pelvis, you feel him exploding inside your mouth, while his seed is spilled out by the corners of your lips. A last gag shakes his anatomy with a furious moan escaping from him, rolling his eyes to the back of his head and containing his breathing.

Running out of air, he urges you to stand up as you swallow his juices, pushing you onto his lap to catch your lips with his. Taza devours them hungrier than ever, tasting himself satisfied, sliding his tongue in your cavity to dominate your sleepy one. Pulling his face away from yours some inches, your husband contemplates his piece of art. Your swollen and abused lips look beautiful, focusing on them to calm his anxiety after what just happened.

“You have been such a good girl”. He whispers, catching back some air to bring to his lungs, putting aside a soft bristle of hair stuck in your sweaty forehead. “You deserve a reward, don't you?”

Almost nodding, he spank your ass with his ringed fingers when you're about to reply. Stirring because of the strong clap, you can't avoid a delicious moan, while his digits get dug in your skin.

“Tell me what you want, mi amor”.

There's no dominant tone anymore, giving path to the sensual and honeyed voice he usually uses with you, pulling you closer to peck your lips with clingy and tender kisses.

“I want to ride your fingers… por favor”. The desperate sob you utter squeezes his heart for a moment.

Taza always gets sure you enjoy more than him, but this time he has earned it, remembering the dirty words you whispered into his ear in front of his brother; letting him know how wet your pussy was just by imagining his tongue sucking and pulling your clit.

“Por favor”. You say again, bringing him back to reality.

“Got a better idea, mi amor…”

Easily moving you to the other side of the sofa, he kneels in front of you, spreading your legs to place them over his shoulders. Almost lying on your back, your crystal eyes go straight to his provocative ones, watching and feeling his lips leaving short kisses on your inner thighs. The sensation of his rough beard rubbing your skin is undescribable, closing your eyelids to focus only on his caresses.

It's just a soft touch of the tip of his tongue over your warm folds, which makes you moan eagerly, in the meantime that you tangled your fingers on his head.

“Fuck, Che…” You cry out. “No more games, please… I need you so fucking much”.

Your wishes are commands for him, for his mouth. His lips sucks out your swollen clit, sliding two curved fingers into your cunt, waiting a long second to let your walls fit around his digits. And you can't help but arch your back, shivering under his touches. You are aware that it's not going to cost him much time to make you cum, but he's going to do his best.

“You're so tight, baby girl… So fucking warm… I love it”.

Soon, Taza speeds up the moves of his wrist, slamming his palm against your soaked pussy, provoking obscenes blops that fill up the living room in sync with your whinings. His mouth is taking care of your throbbing clit, traveling his free hand to attend your hard nipples. The heat covering your anatomy increases your vocals, thanking not having neighbors that could hear you screaming your husband's name and how good he makes you feel.

Every thrust of his fingers is deeper and faster than the last, as the others pinch and massage your breasts as much as he can enclose by his huge hand. The contrast of his rings inside you is pushing you to the limit, unconsciously rocking your hips against his face.

“C'mon, mi amor… give to your man what he desires the most”.

Hitting your g-spot, by forcing his hand within your cunt, he suddenly steals all the air in your lungs; finding your wished orgasm, shaking your body over the sofa. Securing you under the grip of his firm and strong arms, Taza drinks triumphantly your juices as you try to survive to his caresses. His tongue tastes, licks and cleans your core pleased with what he has provoked in you, before leaving a tender bite in your inner thigh.

Standing up on his boots, to put on his clothes, your husband gives you some seconds to recover yourself while your legs continue shaking slightly. If he expects you to walk, he's very wrong. But he's not stupid. Helping you to get up, Taza lifts you up between his arms, helping you to wrap his waist with your legs to bring you to your private bathroom, inside your shared dorm.

“Are you upset for what I did?” You babble resting your cheek on his shoulder, feeling tired and sleepy.

His laughs echoing the hallway, shaking his head briefly.

“Upset for turning me on like you did…? Fuck, no, cariño. That was fucking hot”. He purrs onto your ear, sinking your nose in his neck to have a deep breath of his scent. “Did I hurt you?”

“Of course not”. Whispering, you can't help but yawn exhausted, reaching your room.

“You sure?”

“I'm sure, baby”. You reply while pressing lethargic kisses on his rough skin, barely covered by his beard. “I want to repeat some day”.

“Next time I will not wait till coming home”.

Gently leaving you over the king size bed, your husband kisses your forehead with a gesture full of tenderness and love.

“Wait for me here. I will prepare a bath, okay?”

“Hm…” Barely nodding, he shows you a soft smile.

“I love you, you know it, 'right?”

“Yeah”. Your mood changes a little to a joyful one, placing your hands on both sides of his neck to nudge him straight to your lips.

“I love you more than anything. You're my life, never forget it, baby”. Taza hums brushing them, before leaving a one last kiss. “Give me just a second to run the bath”.

“Don't take too long, I'm already missing you, Che”.

[pinkanonwrites]

love me, please love me

Akaashi x Reader

Happy belated Valentine's day! I wanted to write a bittersweet piece for the occasion, but I caved right at the end and made it 100% sweet instead. Basically Akaashi is a delight and I wanted to see him pine, and pine hard. I hope you'll enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it!

(also the song title is from a song of the same name by Michel Polnareff, which I highly recommend listening to in order to get that yearning vibe)

Akaashi had already decided by himself at an early point in his professional career that writing romance, for all intents and purposes, was easy.

Sure, there would always be details and characters and overarching, more interesting plot to work out, but the overall premise was always the same. Two characters with undeniable chemistry, kept from admitting their true feelings because of Person X or Situation Y, rinse and repeat misunderstandings and 'almosts' until the manga was ready to end. Maybe even leave room afterwards for a cute, episodic spin-off.

Easy.

The real world, however, rarely offered such simplicities.

For example, Akaashi was in love with an office worker whose desk was once across from his, and he was pretty sure they didn't even know his name.

It's not like he'd known he was going to fall for you. How could he have? There was no chorus of angels, no heavenly light from above as the world seemed to fall into slow-motion. No. On his first day in the office you had been late, stumbled in with messy hair and a haphazard stack of manuscripts that you smacked down onto your desk, and had nearly tipped your overfull coffee mug all over the floor. He could hardly call it a good first impression. And yet…

The other workers on your floor seemed to hold you in a very high regard. He'd barely been there a week when one of his concerns had been directed to your desk.

"Ah, excuse me. Takaoda-san told me you could help with this?"

Your attention snapped up from your screen to Akaashi and the folder tucked in his hands. Noticeably confused for a split second, it took a moment before realization dawned on you.

"Oh! You're the guy who just joined! Kashi-san, right? Yeah, I can help you with that!"

You didn't even give him time to correct your butchering of his name.

Not only had you solved his problem, you'd scooted your chair to the side a bit and motioned for him to drag his own over and seat himself beside you, carefully walking him through the entire process.

"There you are! I'll just email this over to you so you have the file on your computer then."

"Yes, thank you very much."

"No problem! If you have any more questions, I'd be happy to help you out."

Your kindness, it seemed, extended to the other members of your office floor as well. Not a day would go by without Akaashi seeing at least one person hunkered down beside you at your desk in various states of disarray, waiting for your kind and composed words to soothe their frazzled minds. Clearly you were a cherished member of this office.

He was sure that the warm stirrings beginning in his chest were no more than admiration at that point.

Mostly sure.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

As his status with the editing company and his understanding of the industry began to rise, Akaashi was swiftly moved up to higher departments and higher pressures, longer meetings and tighter deadlines. He no longer spent as much time on the main floor where he'd started. But he still noticed you.

You'd been the first on the floor to cheer for him when it was announced that he'd be moving to his own private office. You patted him on the back and wished him well with a big, bright smile that made his stomach do something funny he tried to ignore. Occasionally you bumped into each other in the elevator, the break room, in meeting rooms as clusters of overworked people filed in and out.

And sometimes, on darkened evenings when he was leaving the building in the dead of night, he'd see you still sat at your desk. Alone in the office space, you continued to tap away at your keyboard. He'd never considered that for all the time you spent helping others with their problems, that was time unspent solving your own.

"Kashi-san?"

He faltered a bit under your tired gaze, lurking in the doorway of the floor, having finally caught your eye. He didn't even remember to correct you, again.

It didn't matter that much, though. Not when his body was already moving without him thinking, standing at the side of your desk and placing the canned coffee he'd just bought from the vending machine on its corner.

"It's almost 10. I'm surprised you're still here."

You blinked, then laughed, a sweet melodic tune. The coffee clutched in both hands, you looked up at him so sweetly that his heart hammered in response.

"Yeah, there's a lot to get done."

"Please be sure not to overwork yourself. You're a vital piece of this company."

I will, thank you… Hey, have you eaten?"

He startled, checking his watch. "N-Not since lunch."

"Let's grab something. My treat. Consider it a thanks for the coffee."

"Ah… if you insist."

Not that he needed much insistence.

And so began a comfortable pattern as late night dinners between the two of you became all the more common. It was rare that a week went by that didn't end a long and tiring day with ramen in a cozy booth, or snack foods scarfed down outside a 24-hour convenience store, your smiling face all the warmth he needed to stave off the evening chill.

Perhaps this was where he'd first realized, when you'd held a napkin out to him to dab away the teriyaki sauce smeared at the corner of his mouth: A sudden, longing lurch to do the same, to cup your cheek gently in his hand, to run the pad of his thumb over your soft lower lip. He walked home in a daze that evening, dusted with snow and brimming with warmth and confusion.

Realistically he knew that office romances weren't uncommon. He'd read enough manga and watched enough dramas to know that. And yet, he couldn't shake the concern so easily. What if your bosses found out? What would your co-workers think?

...What if it didn't work?

The only glimpses of yourself he'd gotten outside of a workplace environment were those short, shared meals. How could that be enough to judge whether you two were really meant to work well together? Was it worth risking the fallout?

No. Certainly not. Not for a silly crush. Akaashi could wait this out, he should wait this out. Keep his distance and wait until the butterflies faded and the fires died and he was left with the same feelings he'd felt for you in the beginning, appreciation and the occasional concern.

He would be fine.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

On the dawn of week three of minimizing contact with you, Akaashi Keiji was decidedly not fine.

He hadn't realized how dependent he'd become on your presence until it was unceremoniously torn away from him. Is a grown man meant to crave another person's voice so much? Their smile? Their laugh? He felt like a schoolboy again, flustered and frustrated and brimming over with emotions he wasn't sure how to outlet.

On Tuesday morning you'd come in early, clearly dressed for a date. Takaoda confirmed his suspicion a moment later when he complimented your outfit.

"I've got a blind date tonight, actually."

The butterflies in Akaashi's stomach choked and died, falling like stones into the pit of his gut. He nearly shocked himself with the single word that screamed across his rushing mind, that he didn't dare speak aloud.

No.

He felt like a jerk. He felt like a coward. He felt like a horrible, selfish child. But when you saw him standing in the hall and lifted a hand to wave, Akaashi ducked his head and hurried to his office, pointedly and obviously ignoring your greeting.

Well done Keiji, surely they would return your feelings now.

Very little got done that day. And as the clock ticked ever and ever closer to 5pm, Akaashi knew he needed to make a choice. And he knew he needed help making it.

Lifting his cell phone, Akaashi called the one person he knew could give him an easy answer.

"Hey, hey, hey! Akaashi! How are you? Aren't you at work right now?"

"Yes, Bokuto-san. However, I had an important question I was hoping you could help me with."

"Of course! Must be real big if you're calling me about it, huh?"

"Yes, it is."

Faced with the possibility of finally having an answer to his concerns, Akaashi found himself at a loss of where to start.

"Bokuto-san, have you ever had feelings for someone but weren't sure if telling them was the best idea?"

"Oho? Romance questions? Now I'm real interested!" He could hear Bokuto's big, silly grin even over the phone. "Well yeah, some of the cheerleaders are pretty hot. And you remember that guy at the ramen place who always gave me extra coupons? Pretty sure he could've been my soulmate!"

"Bokuto-san, I believe my situation is a touch more serious than a waiter who gives me extra coupons."

Bokuto maturely responded by blowing a raspberry into the receiver.

"Well, if it's that serious why haven't you asked them yourself? You've gotten this torn up about it to call me, so it must be the real deal."

"It really isn't that easy…"

"Isn't it? I mean, they either like you or they don't, right? If they do, great! If they don't, well then you can just start getting over them faster."

Akaashi found himself struggling for a reasonable response to that.

"Hey, all I can say is, you miss a hundred percent of the shots you don't take! Someone famous said that. Shakespeare, I think."

"Wayne Gretzky."

"Bless you."

Sighing, Akaashi glanced at his watch. You would probably be leaving soon. You might even already be out of the office. "...Thank you, Bokuto-san. If you'll excuse me, I need to catch an elevator."

"Sure thing bud! Lemme know how it goes!"

Click.

Akaashi's office door swung shut alongside the soft click of Bokuto hanging up. He skittered on the tile, trying to right himself as he sprinted around the corner, stopping only for a second at the window to the office floor. No one there.

He was probably too late already, why wouldn't you have left early on the night of your date? You worked so hard every other day, surely you would take the few extra minutes to prepare yourself. You were smart like that. Smart, and beautiful, and considerate, and there was no way Akaashi was going to just let you walk off with another man, not without even trying…

Around the corner, standing at the door to one of the elevators, there you were. Why did you look so… grim?

"Oh, hey!" You forced a smile onto your face as you gave him a little wave. "Clocking out on time? That's not like you."

Akaashi opened his mouth. Nothing came out. He tried again, clearing his throat hard.

"Oh, damn. Here."

You pressed a half-empty water bottle into his hands.

"Were you running? You're wheezing like crazy."

Staring down at the bottle in his quivering hands, his mouth moved before his mind could work.

"A date!"

You froze, finally focusing up on his face, staring so, so deeply into his eyes. Or maybe you were just looking at him normally. He could no longer tell. "Oh, yeah. I had one. He had to cancel."

The water bottle clattered to the floor as he gripped both your hands in his.

"Would you consider dinner, then?... With… me? Not like we usually do, this one's…. It's…."

Your hands were so warm. You could probably feel how sweaty his were. Gross. He should probably let you go before you got creeped out or-

"A date?"

"....Please."

A giddy, boisterous laugh bubbled out of you, one he had only heard after you'd downed a few drinks yourself. You squeezed his hands tight, giving him a smile that washed his anxieties away like chalk beneath the rain.

"I'd like that."

"Ah. Yes. Shall we go then?"

"We shall." You hooked your arm around his elbow, giving him a playful grin. "Lead the way, good sir."

Akaashi had already decided for himself at an early point in his professional career that writing romance, for all intents and purposes, was easy.

Living it, though? That was much harder. But he couldn't find it in himself to mind.

"Oh! Takaoda finally told me I've been getting your name wrong this whole time? Why didn't you say anything? I feel like such a jackass!"

"There, uh, a good time to mention it never seemed to come up?"

"Well I have a lot of making up to do, don't I Akaashi?~"

"I'm looking forward to it."

[gmariam19]

Well, I didn’t write anything for Valentine’s Day, which is fine because there’s a pretty good chance that’s not a thing in a galaxy far, far away. ;) But I am working on a one-shot with Finn and Poe. It’s something that came to me as a very vivid scene pretty much all at once, so I scribbled down some notes, and surprisingly enough, they stuck! Hopefully I’ll finish it this week and then get to the epilogue of my other story that I keep putting off (even though I can’t wait to be done. Hmm. Strange.)  So here is a minimally-edited snippet of the one shot, which sees Poe calling his dad after the Battle of Exegol to tell him what happened. . . 

There is a knock on the cockpit door. “General?” C3-PO enters, stops immediately when he sees Poe talking to his father. “Oh, I’m sorry. I did not mean to interrupt, General.”

“General?” asks Poe’s father. Poe holds up a hand and turns to the droid.

“I’m a bit busy now, Threepio. Can it wait?”

The droid pauses, nods his head once. “Yes, sir. I believe it can.”

“Thank you,” Poe tells him dryly. “I’ll be sure to find you when I’m done.”

“I will be in the main cabin with the others, General.” He turns to leave, and Poe calls after him.

“Don’t forget the door, Threepio. And no more interruptions.”

“Of course, sir. And of course not, sir.” He leaves, the door whooshing shut behind him. Once again Poe contemplates locking it, turns to his father with a sheepish look on his face. Kes Dameron is waiting patiently, arms crossed over his chest, eyebrows raised in question.

“So you’re a general now?” Kes asks, voice serious but a smile pulling at his lips.

“Well, yeah…I guess.” Poe shrugs, rubs at his tired eyes. “Leia made me acting general before she died. No idea why…could’ve been anyone…”

“She wanted it to be you,” Kes tells him sharply. “Because she trusted you. Because she’s been preparing you for a while now. You know that. So trust in her. She knew what she was doing.”

“I hope I do,” Poe grumbles, then sits up straighter. “But at least I’m not doing this on my own. I made Finn my co-general.”

This time Kes actually smirks. “Oh, really?”

“Not like that, dad.”

“Not like what?” Kes holds out his hands in innocence. “I didn’t say anything.”

“You don’t have to, I can see it in your face.” Poe gazes out past the hologram, into the forest where somewhere, Finn and Rey are sitting, enjoying their new closeness. And he’s sad for himself, but so glad for two people who desperately deserve happiness. “Kriff, dad, you should have seen him. He led a ground assault on a Star Destroyer! With a cavalry! And when it all backfired, he came up with a new plan and got it done—destroyed the beacon that was controlling every Star Destroyer there. Once Finn took it out, they never had a chance. It was amazing.”  Poe tries not to think of those harrowing moments when he saw Finn and Jannah hanging from the side of the Destroyer, before the Falcon scooped them up. He’s just so relieved it worked and they survived.

“I see,” says his father, nodding sagely. “It does sound amazing. So when are you going to tell him?” his dad asks quietly, seriously. Poe shakes his head, knows he can’t lie to his dad but he’s going to try anyway.

“Tell him what?” The false cheer in his voice gives it all away, and Poe holds back a cringe as he dad crosses his arms over his chest again, cocks his head in that way he’s had since Poe was ten and tried lying about the Force tree in their yard. “Dad…”

“Poe, the war is over. You don’t have to wait anymore. Besides, your mom and I didn’t wait.”

They hadn’t waited until the war was over, which had left Poe alone as a baby, raised by his grandfather. Not that Poe wanted children any time soon, but the thought of leaving behind someone he loved, or losing them, was not something he’d wanted to think about, before. Not when the next day, the next battle, could mean capture, death, or defeat. But now…

“I know dad, I’ve heard the stories.” Poe sighs. “And you’re right, the war is over, but you know just as well as I do that there is still a lot of hard work to be done. There’s still going to be pockets of the First Order holding out, putting up a fight, and I can’t leave the New Republic to—”

“To what, son?” his father demands. “Think of yourself and your own happiness for once? Of your future? You and Finn can work with the New Republic together, you know. Side by side.”

“It’s not that simple,” Poe grinds out. “It’s complicated.” There’s someone else, he doesn’t say, because it’s yet another thing that becomes all too real once the words are spoken and shared.

“Stop making excuses.” Kes Dameron’s voice is flat, almost stern. “Before that ring around your neck chokes you. Tell him, Poe. Talk to Finn.”

The door slides open behind him, and Poe whirls in the pilot’s seat, his eyes big as his heart drops because of course it’s Finn. Did her hear any of that? What’s he even doing there? Where is—

“Tell me what?” Finn asks, sounding both curious and concerned. “Everything okay?”

“Kriffing hell,” Poe mutters, turning back to his father. “Thanks a lot, dad.”

And his father, the old bastard, is grinning. “Perfect timing!  I’ll leave you two to talk.”

“No, no,” Poe says, leaning forward in alarm. “It’s fine, don’t go, I need to–”

“I know you have a lot to do,” his father continues, Poe’s protests falling on deaf ears. “But come home soon. You need a break. Trust me. I remember the feeling.”

Poe blows out a long, slow breath. “I know you do,” he says quietly. “And you’re probably right. I’ll see what I can manage.”

“Soon, Poe,” his father says. “Before you collapse. And bring some company. I’d love to visit with someone besides you and BB-8.”

“Um,” Poe tries not to glance back at Finn since the implication is clear. “We’ll see about that.”

“Well, I can always issue my own invitations,” Kes offers, too cheerfully, and when did his father turn into such a scheming matchmaker? Poe rolls his eyes, leans forward to disconnect the call.

“Don’t even think about it, dad. I’m fully capable of issuing my own.”

“Then make sure you do.” It’s a strange standoff, and Poe can practically feel Finn’s eyes boring into the back of his head.

“It was good to talk to you, dad,” Poe manages, suddenly choked up again. “I’ll call again soon.”

“I’m proud of you, Poe. General Dameron.” He smiles, reaching out as if to touch his son. “Never forget that.”

“I love you too, dad. Dameron out.” His dad offers a small mock salute, and as the connection shuts down, Poe flops back in his chair, even more exhausted than he was when he walked in—physically and emotionally. He hears Finn shuffle behind him but is too worn out to turn around and say anything. Maybe if he’s lucky Finn will walk away.

Apparently he’s only lucky in the sky.