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#enjoy these posts but at the same time it's my blog and i should do what i want but fkdnfks ugh
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[ mess it up ― diluc ] "how could I think that all that i gave you was enough? 'cause every time i get too close, i just go mess it up." cw. gn!reader, angst, ex-lovers, mentions a minorly unhealthy relationship, diluc with trauma (canon event, i didn't do it to him), mentions of alcohol and drinking, light swearing, a lot of adelinde content! thinking over the breakup and having regrets
aquamarine's findings. repost from my old blog, this was sorta revenge for him being c6 but i love my husband i swear // mess it up, gracie abrams.
DILUC was a stubborn man with a tough shell, one that appeared to never be faltering no matter how many people tried. adelinde had spent countless evenings standing at the door to master diluc's office, a glass of grape juice in her tired hands as she tried so stubbornly to win the young master's heart back over; maybe he wasn't going to be this cold and sheltered for the entirety of his life, if only she tried a little bit harder.
the very cavalry captain of the knights of favonius - his own brother - had even tried endlessly, purposefully causing mischief around the dawn winery in an attempt to drag out that mischievous redhead child that diluc was storing away in the dark of his heart. despite kaeya's attempts, it was all futile and he'd be merely scolded by his brother.
sometimes even jean attempted to grasp the reins of an old friend, regardless of the turmoil left between the wine industry tycoon and the knights of favonius. he was once honoured among the knights, feared by their enemies and their youngest captain; what had happened so achingly? now all she can do is grimace at her own fruitless attempts at small talk in the streets of mondstadt, on days where the clouds blanket the sun. it's dull, dreary and the tired look in diluc's eyes couldn't have matched the weather anymore than they did.
in the stupidity of your own decisions, something you tried to excuse as mere young love, you too had make your move to try fix something that perhaps should stay broken. yet it worked, perhaps momentarily. he cracked, faint smiles etched onto his face whenever he'd see you. his calloused hands would stop wiping tankards with a damp cloth just to press a soft kiss to your head when you visited him at work, his focus no longer on the tavern or work for a few seconds.
on days where the sun hugged mondstadt, basking it in golden light that brought smiles out on every face in the city, you'd find diluc among the grapevines, his sleeves folded up to his elbows as he partakes in some hard labour around the winery; after all, he still cared enough to give his workers a day's rest to enjoy the sunshine. you'd join him, happily harvesting grapes in delicate grasps of your hand however diluc wouldn't fail to miss you popping the occasional one into your mouth with a cheeky grin.
regardless of the lingering touches and gentle, featherlight kisses, nothing could truly fix him, could it? for all you know, your attempts had been nothing more than another day, another week, another month for the redhead. the same redhead that you'd dedicated hours to - that you'd dedicated your heart to. what a fool, placing something so delicate into the hands of someone who didn't know how to take care of it.
diluc wishes he'd told you that sooner. he wishes the warnings had slipped from his chapped lips into the night air on the evening you'd confessed your feelings, that he didn't give an ounce of care for love. he was going to focus on the winery, the business - his father's legacy. perhaps it was the only thing he had left to grasp of him now that he'd settled in the post-mourning phase of his young adult life but that twinkle in your eyes, how could he say no?
grumbling to himself, he sips at the bitter liquid in his glass before slamming it down moments later. it's supposed to taste sweet, at least that's what kaeya insinuates every time he steals a bottle from the cellar. diluc never cared, he never drank. he couldn't stand wine yet he kept producing it like it was his lifeblood but here he was, ruby eyes boring into the dark red liquid that fills the winery's infamous glasses his mother had collected when he was still too young to remember.
adelinde lurks in the shadows, a frown adorning that pretty face all the other maids gushed over; she didn't look a day over her age, still as youthful as ever as if she hadn't watched the young masters grow up into grown men with differing personalities nonetheless. a soft sigh escapes her lips, her hands clasped in front of her neatly pressed apron as she makes her presence known.
"i thought i'd never see you drink wine." she comments, her eyes drinking in the way diluc's body tenses in the orange glow of the candle on his desk. his gaze lifts to her, softening ever so slightly when he sees the maid. he feels vulnerable - no, he is vulnerable. nothing will bring back the relationship he'd thrown out so effortlessly like paper in the breeze and that bites at him, tears at his flesh while he's still conscious. the thought makes his body ache more.
"first time for everything," his voice is hoarse as he replies, gruff as he leans back into the plush velvet of his desk chair. that familiar black coat with the fur trim hangs over the back of it and adelinde sighs again, "it's late, why haven't you retired for the night?"
he's sober, adelinde notes as she steps further into his office, her lithe hands lifting the bottle of wine he'd been drinking from to admire the label she'd seen no ends of times throughout her life. diluc watches without another word. he realises how absurd it must seem for him to be drinking the wine, so out of character it would probably turn his father in his grave but it drowned out the pain or at least, it dulled it for a while.
"you know i've never retired while you're still awake," adelinde retorts as she places the wine bottle back down on his desk. the thud draws diluc to his senses and he clears his throat, pulling his large hand away from the glass as he seats himself upright, "you're still thinking about them?"
"do you think... they'd let me back in, adelinde?" he asks in his moment of vulnerability, his rough fingertips tracing over the rings that decorate his fingers. adelinde's lips pull into a tight line, "if i pulled myself together and let them see it happen... do you think they'd let it happen?"
adelinde knows the answer is no, she'd caught wind weeks ago that you'd moved on from the situation and was fixing your wounds in the aftermath of what had happened. she'd uttered it to diluc before but it appears he'd either had one glass too many or he'd chose to ignore it in a delusional hope to fix himself again.
"master diluc, you know-" she cuts herself off, her eyes sorrowful as she drinks in the way his lower lip trembles. his breath is shaking, vulnerable and she's reminded of the young boy who'd come running to her whenever master crepus scolded him for his mischievous antics.
"i fucked up, i know," he groans, a slight crack in his voice as his hands bunch into fists on the arms of his chair. adelinde makes a soft noise in response, "and now i just have to sit here, kicking myself with my gut in a knot while they're happier."
there's a silence that fills the office. wind creaks in the attic, adelinde realises she'll have to chase up the maintenance workers on fixing all the gaps and there's a subtle crackle of the flame burning on diluc's desk. she takes note of the dark circles under the young man's eyes, hollowing his pale face from the lack of sleep he'd been receiving since he cut things off with you.
at least, that's the story he told her - that he was the one to cut the ties holding the pair of you together. it wasn't the truth and diluc thinks he'll never utter the truth to anyone, a possibility as to why he'd stopped drinking wine the moment adelinde made herself known. he's a lightweight and he's self aware, the last thing he wants is to spill out the truth like a sobbing mess, tears staining his cheeks while his breath reeks of alcohol.
the truth was you'd been the one to finish things to protect yourself. your hands clasped around your breaking heart, trembling and shaking in a last ditch effort to stop things from collapsing completely. diluc couldn't love, not in your eyes. you'd tried so hard but you knew behind the acts of affection, he wasn't there. it was as if you was kissing a ghost, someone who lacked the will to be in that situation.
in the long term, it made you feel unloved. that's when you began to recognise that you was holding pieces of your shattering heart and desperately trying to piece it back together again, fumbling endlessly with your own heart all while you tried to force feed love into the winery owner - the one who undoubtedly was up until that point, your lover.
diluc doesn't blame you for your decision but he regrets it, every ounce of it. he considers that the whole relationship could have been avoided but at the same time, by the time you'd ended things, he'd began to crave your touch, your love, your kisses. he'd hear your voice when you wasn't even present. it happened too late however and now he pays the price, the heartbreak of his own regrets for not trying harder.
this truth he'd keep locked in his shallow heart, his lips pursed into a tight line as his eyes drag over the quill on his desk - yet again, another thing he doesn't dare bring into this conversation with the maid. he'd wrote you numerous letters, just begging to hear from you so that mayhaps his heart could rest a little.
he would tear every one of them up and only one of them was ever sent.
"diluc!" your voice chirps in his memory, your cotton shawl drifting in the infamous breeze of mondstadt as you stand upon the grass hill, clouds decorating the blue sky above your head. a smile graces your face, that specific one that he adored despite never mentioning it to you - a mistake on his behalf. your eyes crease with your smile, a gentle laugh reverberating from you, "hurry up!"
diluc finds himself trudging up the grassy slope to join you, his fateful beloved. his shoes find dips to keep his footing in the steepest parts, a calloused hand occasionally pressing to the sharp grass blades to stop him slipping. eventually, he joins you. he stands at your side, drinking in your face in sheer admiration before it dawns on him that this isn't his reality, not anymore.
the bedsheets are damp when he wakes, moonlight still filtering through the large ornate glass windows of his chambers. an exasperated breath escapes his lips, his tongue darting out to wet them as his head falls back onto the feather filled pillows. fiery red hair sprawls out beneath him, no longer tied up as tears sting at his eyes, threatening to spill in the vulnerable silence left in his wake.
every time he gets too close, mere inches from a promised happiness within his grasp, he just goes and messes it up, like always.
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the archives' notifications. @bisexuawolfsalt, @lovingluxury, @auroratumbles, @ryuryuryuyurboat, @soleillunne
@zamorazz, @zworllyx
© theaquamarinearchives 2024 ; reblogs appreciated. do not re-upload, translate, etc. my works on any platforms or feed any of my works to ai.
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xianyoon · 3 days
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EXTREME BIAS GAME : MAY 2024
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꒰ message from ying ꒱
it's time to host ebg again !!! if you're new to ebg – you're most welcome to join us, we'd love to have you ! this event is open to anyone who enjoys genshin ( this will be a genshin centered event ! ) and mutuals and non-mutuals ( mdni blogs included – there'll be adults playing too ) ! if you're new to genshinblr, this would be a great way to interact with more people too :") i hope to see you in the signups list !!! signups will close once we get to around 25 people !!
sign-up form
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on rules
the game will run from 03 to 10 may 2024 ! it will be hosted by me :)
participants are not allowed to interact with their original biases. their original biases do not exist to them during this game.
participants may reply to asks containing their original bias' name, but must not say it / describe the bias in any way.
players and non-players are allowed to sabotage each other. a list with everybody's original biases will be released !
sabotaging others who have the same bias as you is allowed , but you are not allowed to say the bias' name, or describe them in any way.
url changes are not necessary , but theme changes ( if it has your original bias ) are ! players are given 24 hours to change their themes if their original theme is of their original bias — before earning a strike .
players who lose the game will earn a forfeit ♡
non-players, i am counting on you to help me check on the players !!!!
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on strikes
participants have 3 lives ! with each strike, one life dies. 3 strikes, and the player loses the game.
reblogging things with / directly responding to things that contain your original bias' / or their name will incur a strike. saying your bias' name / describing your bias will also incur a strike !
players are allowed to reblog the original bias list post at the start of the game. reblogging it midway through the game will earn you a strike bc it contains the name .
during this ebg, you can earn points by creating things about your assigned bias. ( eg. if my assigned bias is kaeya, and if i write something for kaeya (200+ words), i'll get 500 points! )
tag me (@xianyoon) when you create something! i'll assign you your points. each piece of work is standard with 500 points. use the tag #genshinblr may ebg 2024 so that i can track it better !
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about points
500 points are awarded as a standard for each creation. for writing, it should be 200 words minimum, and for art, it should be lineart minimum. i do not accept doodles. for edits, it'll be at my discretion! each piece should have some effort put into it – not just created for the sake of earning points.
players can use their points from creations to strike people ! each strike costs 1000 points . each player is limited to one earnable strike each day . just send me an ask to strike someone !
players will be able to spend 2000 points to heal themselves as well ! the heals have no limit per day !
for 2000 points , players can redeem one hour to be free from ebg , starting from the period of time when i approve the redemption . the hour is consecutive and cannot be split up into different periods . this one hour can only be redeemed ONCE in the entirety of the whole game. if players start the hour without my knowledge, they will earn a strike.
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inkskinned · 11 months
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the thing is that they're so fascinated by sex, they love sex, they can't imagine a world without sex - they need sex to sell things, they need sex to be part of their personality, they need sex to prove their power - but they hate sex. they are disgusted by it.
sex is the only thing that holds their attention, and it is also the thing that can never be discussed directly.
you can't tell a child the normal names for parts of their body, that's sexual in nature, because the body isn't a body, it's a vessel of sex. it doesn't matter that it's been proven in studies (over and over) that kids need to know the names of their genitals; that they internalize sexual shame at a very young age and know it's 'dirty' to have a body; that it overwhelmingly protects children for them to have the correct words to communicate with. what matters is that they're sexual organs. what matters is that it freaks them out to think about kids having body parts - which only exist in the context of sex.
it's gross to talk about a period or how to check for cancer in a testicle or breast. that is nasty, illicit. there will be no pain meds for harsh medical procedures, just because they feature a cervix.
but they will put out an ad of you scantily-clad. you will sell their cars for them, because you have abs, a body. you will drip sex. you will ooze it, like a goo. like you were put on this planet to secrete wealth into their open palms.
they will hit you with that same palm. it will be disgusting that you like leather or leashes, but they will put their movie characters in leather and latex. it will be wrong of you to want sexual freedom, but they will mark their success in the number of people they bed.
they will crow that it's inappropriate for children so there will be no lessons on how to properly apply a condom, even to teens. it's teaching them the wrong things. no lessons on the diversity of sexual organ growth, none on how to obtain consent properly, none on how to recognize when you feel unsafe in your body. if you are a teenager, you have probably already been sexualized at some point in your life. you will have seen someone also-your-age who is splashed across a tv screen or a magazine or married to someone three times your age. you will watch people pull their hair into pigtails so they look like you. so that they can be sexy because of youth. one of the most common pornography searches involves newly-18 young women. girls. the words "barely legal," a hiss of glass sand over your skin.
barely legal. there are bills in place that will not allow people to feel safe in their own bodies. there are people working so hard to punish any person for having sex in a way that isn't god-fearing and submissive. heteronormative. the sex has to be at their feet, on your knees, your eyes wet. when was the first time you saw another person crying in pornography and thought - okay but for real. she looks super unhappy. later, when you are unhappy, you will close your eyes and ignore the feeling and act the role you have been taught to keep playing. they will punish the sex workers, remove the places they can practice their trade safely. they will then make casual jokes about how they sexually harass their nanny.
and they love sex but they hate that you're having sex. you need to have their ornamental, perfunctory, dispassionate sex. so you can't kiss your girlfriend in the bible belt because it is gross to have sex with someone of the same gender. so you can't get your tubes tied in new england because you might change your mind. so you can't admit you were sexually assaulted because real men don't get hurt, you should be grateful. you cannot handle your own body, you cannot handle the risks involved, let other people decide that for you. you aren't ready yet.
but they need you to have sex because you need to have kids. at 15, you are old enough to parent. you are not old enough to hear the word fuck too many times on television.
they are horrified by sex and they never stop talking about it, thinking about it, making everything unnecessarily preverted. the saying - a thief thinks everyone steals. they stand up at their podiums and they look out at the crowd and they sign a bill into place that makes sexwork even more unsafe and they stand up and smile and sign a bill that makes gender-affirming care illegal and they get up and they shrug their shoulders and write don't say gay and they get up, and they make the world about sex, but this horrible, plastic vision of it that they have. this wretched, emotionless thing that holds so much weight it's staggering. they put their whole spine behind it and they push and they say it's normal!
this horrible world they live in. disgusted and also obsessed.
#this shifts gender so much bc it actually affects everyone#yes it's a gendered phenomenon. i have written a LOT about how different genders experience it. that's for a different post.#writeblr#ps my comments about seeing someone cry -- this is not to shame any person#and on this blog we support workers.#at the same time it's a really hard experience to see someone that looks like you. clearly in agony. and have them forced to keep going.#when you're young it doesn't necessarily look like acting. it looks scary. and that's what this is about - the fact that teens#have likely already been exposed to that definition of things. because the internet exists#and without the context of healthy education. THAT is the image burned into their minds about what it looks like.#it's also just one of those personal nuanced biases -#at 19 i thought it was normal to be in pain. to cry. to not-like-it. that it should be perfunctory.#it was what i had seen.#and it didn't help that my religious upbringing was like . 'yeah that's what you get for premarital. but also for the reference#we do think you should never actually enjoy it lol'#so like the point im making is that ppl get exposed to that stuff without the context of something more tender#and assume .... 'oh. so it's fine i am not enjoying myself'. and i know they do because I DID.#he was my first boyfriend. how was i supposed to know any different#i didn't even have the mental wherewithal to realize im a lesbian . like THAT used to suffering.
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kvaughanarts · 1 year
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Shoutout to the dream team, gotta be some of my favorite babygirls
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ghosts-cyphera · 7 months
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No questions or comments, jus wanted to say that I love your pornstar ghost! Plz don't ever stop writing <33
this is one hundred percent one of those comments that I’m tempted to print out and keep for the rest of my wee life because 💕🥹 aah, thank you !!
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dan-crimes · 1 year
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It really is so sexy of me to be an art blog that never ever posts my own art LMAO
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leatherbookmark · 10 months
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hopping around different blogs is fun.
a post on blog 1: i find it a little weird that -- don't get me wrong, the barbie movie looks great with all the doll-like details, i bet the actors had great fun and i'd like to see it myself, but -- people are getting excited about marketing of this movie. they're acting as though mattel's 3985* deals with 837* different companies are something new, exciting and creative instead of... 3985 deals with 837 companies spanning many different areas! this movie is a commercial for a doll! isn't this kinda weird?
*numbers made up
a post on blog 2: i don't think any sane adult doesn't realize that this is a toy commercial! it's rather obvious.
a post on blog 3: boo hoo 'the barbie movie is capitalist propaganda' i don't give a SHIT marx won't fuck you. did you do this for transformers too? do you think only stupid girls who like pink need the reminder?
like, oooooh! things are happening!
#shrimp thoughts#earlier today i got into a bit of an essay reading spree (as much as my brain allowed me lol)#and it got me thinking about like... associating oneself with products/aesthetics/companies as a way of self-creation#this is me. i love [fashion brand] you won't catch me without my k*nken and here is my room in which you can see posters of [movies]#it's very... human to get excited about things and feel it more the more others get excited because. community building#at the same time i've noticed it myself that it's so much easier to label yourself a [thing] girl than to like... Look Into Yourself#who am i? what defines me? these questions are difficult because how do i know that? with what means do i obtain this knowledge?#should i create myself as i want or should i observe myself with the eyes of others instead? ...let me just say i like plants and overalls#and i feel like when someone says something you perceive as a critique of the identity slash community you associate yourself with#it's... hurtful? but at the same time. hm. i don't know actually#like chances are these posts are talking about completely different things and not vaguing each other or even similar posts#maybe posts that blog 3 vagues really were obnoxiously condescending! who knows! that being said DESPITE being a small-brained#shrimp who would honestly love to win soooo many moneys and just do whatever i want all day instead of being an Independant and Competent#Expert In My Field (this sounds scary and stressing). i still would like to avoid falling into the 'just let me ENJOY things and don't try#to make me hate femininity because it's not working! pink and shopping can be empowering' hole.#idk!! i listen to k/pop and am part magpie. i can't quite pose myself as like anti-capitalist intellectual#but i do want to achieve at least a small brain! someday!! and boy do i hope my brain energy days don't end before the books arrive;;#2am thoughts. wonder if my mother goes to sleep earlier than at 4am today because its getting annoying
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no-one-hears-me · 10 months
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the past is gone
#there are some people that I'm not gonna see in my future. gotta decide who#tired of dealing with certain people and the misery that it brings me#such a shame to see people go. I've loved them and I always will#but they don't see me the same way and it's time to leave the past in the past#anyways. I wanna fast today but I didn't plan it so I'm not prepared so it won't go well#btw. I've never seen a proana blog talk about fasting properly don't take advice from them they don't know what they're doing#don't take any ed advice from them realistically. restricting like that isn't sustainable and it's not even efficient#since I know what I'm doing you should take ed advice from me. eat 3 meals a day and drink plenty of water and enjoy your life#I can't give ed advice bc I'm too good at it. you can't find this anywhere else I've had to learn through years of personal experience#also just don't have an ed. like that's obviously the advice I was giving where I said to eat 3 meals a day but fr do that#there's a lot of proana blogs following me and idk why since I'm not one of them I just post ed vents#idc who follows me and I don't hate the proana people bc they're just mentally ill too. I understand them#I've spent some time on proana tumblr I just never posted like that bc I don't wanna encourage ed behaviors#also bc they're wrong lmao#this is gonna sound super fucked and ik that sorry. but I have never seen a proana blogger skinnier than me but they're way more passionate#you can't eat a cucumber and diet coke daily go eat some protein and maybe some delicious pasta#eating the least amount of calories possible doesn't help anything it just makes you feel proud of yourself#eating some good mexican food will make you feel good tho trust me 🙏 so will eating proper meals throughout the day#Sera
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rinhaler · 6 months
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i cant stop thinking abt noncon + stepcest Rin who cant control himself anymore after noticing how much his lil step-sister has grown since he was away bc of soccer n shit yk..
(btw your blog is goated)
GOATED WHAT A COMPLIMENT AKGHDSAKLH thank u very much I hope u enjoy this <3
warnings: 18+ MDNI, fem!reader, stepcest, dub/noncon, slight fingering, vaginal sex, nii-chan/rin-nii used, slight degradation, praise, dacryphilia, calls ur pussy 'she', shush kink?
words: 2k
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“You’re always flirting with me.” Rin speaks. It’s the first time he’s said anything to you since he got back from Paris. He’s always been cold with you, short-tempered and even cruel. But you hadn’t expected to hear him say something like that.
You scoff, shuffling your position on the couch to get more comfortable to read your magazine. He always notes how often you change your position when you read; you can never sit still for more than a few minutes. You often read with your bedroom door open, and if he passes by to go to the bathroom, you’re always in a different position by the time he walks back to his room again.
“What was that?” he asks, pulling a disgruntled face at your dismissive response. “You think you don’t? You only wear short skirts when I’m visiting. I see your socials.”
“Oh… so, you’re stalking me then?” you giggle. “Don’t flatter yourself, Rin-nii… I jus’ feel pretty like this.” you defend yourself despite knowing he’s right. He thinks you’re dumb, and the fact that you smile and giggle after every word is a dead giveaway. You’re a flirt, and you’re a liar.
He also hates that you’re absolutely right.
Not a day goes by where he doesn’t check your social media profiles. He likes to see what you’re up to and who you’re seeing. It’s only been a recent development, though, he saw a particularly sultry post on your Instagram and he quite frankly hasn’t been the same since. He hadn’t realised you’d grown so much and come into your own. He can’t get you out of his mind.
You gulp a little as he leans forward, his fingers lingering on your chin and guiding your eyes to meet his own. He doesn’t speak immediately. Instead, he opts to examine your responses. The way your forehead forms a tiny bead of sweat under the pressure of his gaze. The way your tongue quickly swipes over your plump lips when his eyes drift to stare at them. The way your breasts almost spill with each heave of your chest as you try and keep your composure.
“Be grateful, little sister. Good nii-chan’s keep an eye on their little sister’s, you know.” he tells you matter-of-factly.
“T- uh, thank you, Rin-nii…” is all you can muster beneath his intense stare. He smirks, too fucking coolly before withdrawing. You close your magazine and stand up, desperate to hurry to your room to calm your nerves. He watches you walk away as he flicks through the channels on the TV.
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“Oh God, miss you on my lips… hm-mm-mm…” you sing along with your record player as you listen to Lana Del Rey, following a muted makeup tutorial on your phone to pass the time. You grunt in annoyance when you realise that maybe you aren’t destined to perfect winged eyeliner today.
After locking your phone, you immediately tap the screen to see the time. You almost gasp as you realise it’s 7PM and five hours have passed since you last checked what time it is. Dinner will be ready soon, you grab a makeup wipe and begin to cleanse your skin. You should probably do your skincare, too, but it can wait until right before bedtime.
You examine your face to see if you’ve missed any makeup. Your eyeliner is stubborn but eventually comes off. And so with that, you get up to toss the wipe into the bin in your room.
“Jesus Chri— Rin! What are you doing?” you ask, spotting your elder brother in the doorway of your room. His eyes follow the stained wipe as you drop it into the bin, but his eyes linger on you once more as you wait for him to answer. “Oh… is there something on my face? Thought I got it all…” you tell him, leaning over your dressing table again to make sure your face is spotless.
“Tell me the truth.” he sighs, entering your room without closing the door. You look at him through your mirror before you turn to face him, an eyebrow quirked in confusion as he continues to close the distance. “You flirt with me.”
“This again?” you laugh. You lean back against your dressing table, fingers curling beneath the tabletop as you cross one ankle over the other. You feel heady as he gets closer and you smell his cologne. It doesn’t suit him, you think, but it’s nice. The scent is generic and sporty but Rin Itoshi himself is nothing close to generic.
Though it doesn’t matter, ultimately, not when it’s flooding your senses and drowning your mind.
“You’ve gotten so big…” he sighs, placing a hand on your hip. He smirks at how you shudder from his touch on your bare skin. Your watery eyes make his heart swell, unable to believe how trusting you are. You don’t stop him when his hand smooths over the curve of your ass and fingers dip under your skirt, though you’re trembling. Thick fingers prod at your panties and a tiny mewl escapes your lips. A condescending chuckle leaves him as you uncross your legs, widening them to give him better access. “Your panties are soaked. I knew you wanted me…”
You grab his wrist, urging him to stop when you remember the bedroom door is still wide open. It doesn’t deter him, though. His heavy fingers still press against the material covering your cute little cunt, his bulge growing tenfold when he pushes by your puffy lips to tease your throbbing clit.
“Don’t act coy, now. I know you want this, you opened your legs for nii-chan to play with you.”
“We can’t.” you whisper, biting your lip in a feeble attempt to stifle yourself. “Not l-like this! Not when they’re home… please nii-chan.” you beg, though it’s fruitless. Your eyes flutter closed as his head sinks, his lips meeting your neck to kiss you delicately.
You barely have the energy to fight when he encourages you to hook your legs around his waist. He carries you to the bed, mumbles of protest leave you but you don’t dare make too much noise and draw attention.
“Has to be now, princess.” he tells you. “Don’t know when we’ll get a better chance.” he continues.
You’re trapped beneath him, making a point of looking away from him as he humps against you pathetically. And you want him, of course you want him, but the risk is too high. He’s lost all sense, instead thinking with his cock rather than his brain. But you’re not too far gone yet. You can put a stop to this.
It needs to stop.
“Why are you being like this?” he wonders as he pulls out his length, jerking it slowly all the while still humping the tip against your clothed, wet panties. “I have to do this… little sister. I have to know how tight you are around me.”
“Another time, please! What if we get caught? P-Please stop, you’re smarter than this!” you beg once again, the request falling on deaf ears. You gulp as you feel his fingers hook under the gusset of your panties, moving the material into the crease of your thigh. Your voice breaks, a whiny moan following as he presses his tip into your sticky cunt. The stretch is heavenly, and you can barely catch your breath. His glimmering green eyes staring down at you as he inches further and further into your welcoming warmth makes you feel humiliated. You don’t want this, but fucking hell, you really do. “Aaah~!” you sob.
His palm flies to your mouth, the pressure almost suffocating as lust blown eyes turn impatient.
“Shut the fuck up,” he whispers, still bullying his cock into you. “Gotta be quiet, don’t want our parents to see what a little slut you are for nii-chan, yeah?” he warns you.
You don’t know what to do with yourself. You aren’t sure where to put your hands. They grip into the duvet below before you begin pulling at his shirt. He doesn’t have the patience to take it off, though, not when you’re sucking him in and squeezing around him like a fucking virgin. Are you? He doesn’t want to know. His head dips as your nails begin to claw up his back, marking your territory unintentionally.
He moves his leg, hooking his ankle around yours to keep your thigh pinned in place and open wide. You feel him hold your other ankle briefly, kissing it softly before he moves his hand under the bend of your knee. Your eyes cross as he pushes your leg until your opened up for him like a blooming flower. The new angle is monstrous, his thick, intimidating length reaching depths you didn’t even know existed.
He groans as he watches tears roll out of your innocent eyes. Those trusting eyes that didn’t think your nii-chan could be capable of something so salacious. He’s sure he won’t last long. Not when your clamping around him like this and looking at him with those pathetically wet eyes. You’re mumbling something beneath his dampening palm, but he isn’t stupid enough to free your airways and risk you crying out needily for your dear nii-chan.
You panic as you feel him withdraw his length, though deep down you know it’s for the best. But your eyes roll over white as you feel him stab it in again.
“Pretty little sister… want you to cream this cock for me…” he announces, repeating the motion again and again as he basks in the way you can barely look at him in your ecstasy. He can’t take his eyes off you, though. He doubts he’s ever seen a more beautiful sight. “I’m gonna cum inside, princess. I belong inside, yeah?”
You shake your head, his words stirring in your mind and bringing your senses back once more. Oh God, he can’t. You’re on the pill, all should be fine if he does cum inside but it’s so damn wrong.
“Did you just say no to your nii-chan? I don’t like that answer.” he replies, his hips picking up the pace again. His body shimmers with a sheen of sweat, and his breathless pants become heavier. “You should be begging me for my cum. I’m sure you didn’t mean it, don’t worry, I’ll give it to you.” he continues. Each thrust of his hips is deep and powerful and you’re sure your inner thighs might be developing bruises.
You whimper, again, knowing you can’t do anything to change his mind.
“Your pussy is so cute… think your clit needs some attention, though. Touch yourself for me, let me watch.” he requests. “Go on… she’s so swollen.”
It’s like being hypnotised. Your dominant hand flies to your cunt and begins to rub your needy clit. And it’s minimal, after barely any touching at all and you’re creaming for your beloved nii-chan. The sight is too much for your brother and the way your walls squeeze him for all he’s worth are an additional lure into his release. His own eyes turn white briefly before he looks down at where you’re joined. Your combined coupling forming a beautiful white ring around the base of his cock with every shallow impale.
“F-Fuck… don’t wanna pull out.” he tells you, finally uncovering your mouth to kiss your lips intimately.
You’re speechless. You aren’t surprised your brother is so experienced or so filthy with his words. Not when he’s travels and fucks girls around the world. But how are you meant to be without him now? When he goes away again… how will you stand it? His cock is made for you, of that, you’re sure. But you doubt he’ll keep it in his pants for your benefit.
Fuck, this was a mistake.
“Dinner’s ready!” your mother calls up the stairs, your nii-chan’s hand instinctively flies to your mouth and he shushes you before chuckling again.
You cry desperately as he withdraws his softening length from your twitching hole. But neediness turns to discomfort as you feel your brothers fingers move the gusset of your panties back into place. It’s so wet and sticky and gross, your face distorts at the unpleasant feeling.
“Come on, don’t want to be late, do we?”
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alloukas · 2 years
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endlessthxxghts · 24 days
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Dr. Miller - Pt 2
Orthopedic!Joel Miller x afab!Reader | W/C: 4.8k
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Summary: It’s time for your second appointment with Dr. Miller.
Warnings: canon-divergent - no outbreak, medical professional au. Reader (she/her) has female anatomy and is able-bodied. No physical description of race. Reference to reader’s clothing, but no sizes mentioned (everything is neutral). Pet names (darlin’, angel, girl, etc). Most definitely doctor malpractice LMFAO. 18+ MDNI. Inherent power imbalance (doctor-patient relations). Dirty talk. Hickeys/biting/marking. Fingering. Slight begging. Praise kink. Multiple orgasms. Spit kink. P in V unprotected (wrap it before you tap it, guys). Cum play/cum swallowing…snowball kisses🥴. Daddy kink… and last but not least, the ending.. I’m not gonna say what, you’ll just have to read, but I’m sorry😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 although I’m foregoing a warning or two for plot purposes, please let me know if they should be up here! I’ll fix it accordingly!🫶
A/N: Here goes round 2! As far as the series goes and as far as posting it goes LMAO!! This hellsite deleted my first attempt in posting, so hopefully it stays up this time around. And I’m giving a big thank you to @honeyedmiller for proofreading and catching my horrendous grammar mistakes lololol I love you🩶 Anywho, I hope you guys enjoy!!! I’d love to hear what you think :) luv u guys xx
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Friday. 4pm. Your next appointment with Dr. Miller was tomorrow. 
This was the first ever doctor appointment you’ve ever been excited for. The automated text their system sends out didn’t tell you to arrive early, and you’ll admit, you were bummed. 
You’ll show up early regardless. Maybe he’d be able to see you sooner if his schedule allows. At least, you can hope, anyway. 
After your appointment with him last week, you were left hurt and wanting. You knew the hurt was a natural reaction to the sudden dopamine drop, and something tells you Dr. Miller is a guy who’s adamant on aftercare. So, you swept those emotions under the rug easily. 
Not so easily, however, was your needy cunt and the way it drooled and throbbed for nearly an entire week straight, craving the one thing she almost had. She barely had a taste, but she was already hooked, addicted even. 
Your fingers, your vibrator, your purple dildo that’s helped you come plenty of times – nothing could get you off. Not anymore. 
Unbeknownst to you, Dr. Miller had the exact same problem. Well, okay – he could ejaculate just fine, but the want never seemed to leave his system. Ever since he’s had his taste of you, he could never reach the feeling of satisfaction. And it has taken an absolute toll on him. 
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Dee snarked. Only she could ever talk to him like that. She keeps him on his toes. 
“The hell is wrong with me?” he huffed. 
“You’re being a grump, doc,” she replies. 
He rolls his eyes. “Ain’t I always?” 
“Yeah,” she says thoughtfully. “But you seem more… miserable.”
“Gee, Dee, well thank you for that,” he replies monotonously. 
“You’re welcome,” she snickers. She comes closer, voice hushed. “Seriously, though. Do you need to get laid or something?”
He chokes on the coffee he now regrets bringing up to his lips. “Jesus,” he coughs. “Time and place, Dee,” he says, trying to collect himself. 
She raises her hands up defensively. “I’m just lookin’ out for ya, doc,” she smirks, howling out a laugh as she puts Dr. Miller out of his misery by returning to her desk. 
He just shakes his head in response, fighting the blush on his cheeks at the thought of you taking care of the needs Dee so outwardly pointed out he had. 
Dr. Miller wouldn’t have to wait much longer, though. Your appointment was so soon, only one more work day before he’s able to be blessed by your presence again. That is, until Dee finds another opportunity to shit on Dr. Miller’s mood. 
“What do you mean we’re supposed to close early tomorrow?” Dr. Miller gruffs. 
“Exactly that, Miller,” Dee treads lightly. “It was in the calendar. Too many people have off in the afternoon tomorrow. It’s Easter weekend. You’ll be sorely understaffed.”
“Then who booked the patients after 2 if us closing early was in the calendar?” Dr. Miller is never one to be an asshole, dictating boss, but his irritation is very much getting the best of him right now. 
Dee whispers her next response. “…The new hire. But don’t blame them. I should’ve caught it sooner,” she reasons. 
Dr. Miller takes a steadying breath. “So how many people do we gotta disappoint right now?”
Dee pulls up the calendar on her phone. Dr. Miller watches her shoulders physically relax. “Oh! Actually, you’ve only got one person. At 4. I’ll call right now to reschedule,” Dee says with a finality. 
“Wait- who?” Dr. Miller asks. He knows who it is. 
Dee looks confused for a moment, but she indulges and reads off your name to her boss. 
“Y’know what, Dee,” Dr. Miller waves her off. “I’ll take care of that appointment, it’s fine.”
“Dr. Miller, are you sure-”
“‘Course,” he cuts her off. “I’m the only one in this damn office without Easter plans, anyway,” he huffs. “Empty nest or however that sayin’ goes.”
Dee nods in understanding. “How’s she doing?” 
“Fuckin’ amazin’,” Dr. Miller marvels. “She just surprises me more ‘n more everyday.”
Dee smiles before she returns to their situation at hand. “Are you sure you don’t want me to reschedule?”
“I’m sure,” Dr. Miller states. “Listen, I know this practice wouldn’t be able to run without any of y’all, and without you especially-” Dr. Miller explains. 
“You flatter me,” Dee butts in with a straight face. 
He smirks before continuing. “But have some faith in this old man, why don’t ya? I think I’m more than capable of doin’ the whole check in, check out thing.”
Dee takes in a sharp breath. “It’s much more than that, Miller, but nonetheless,” she holds her hands up in surrender. “I’ll put some faith in ya, old man.”
“Thank ya,” he drawls. “Now please go talk to the new hire about their mistake, I think they’re still afraid of me a lil bit.”
She laughs in the affirmative, shutting Dr. Miller’s office door on her way out. 
Holy shit. 
His plan to get you alone just worked itself out. Thank you, newbie, he thinks to himself.
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Dr. Miller’s office is less than ten minutes away from you, yet somehow you decide that if you left any later than 3, you’d keep Dr. Miller waiting, and you certainly didn’t want that happening.  
The parking lot is completely empty, a lone vehicle – a hefty truck – sits only two spaces away from your own. Your tummy swirls, knowing exactly whose car that might be. However, another swirl of nerves swarms through you. Why are there no other vehicles? 
Swallowing the anxious lump in your throat, you step out of your car and make your way inside the office. Inside is even further void of life than the parking lot. 
You make a beeline for the check-in window, picking up the pen from the cup to begin filling out your information when a deep drawl of your name startles you.
“Dr. Miller,” you jump, your eyebrows flying to your forehead. 
“Shit,” Dr. Miller chuckles. “Sorry, darlin’,” his voice was much softer, careful. “I do that a lot to my staff- sneak up on ‘em, they call it. Say I need a bell or somethin’ ‘round my neck.” 
You laugh with him at the little anecdote. He motions for you to come on back already, dismissing the check-in process since it’s only you, he explains. 
“Why is it only me?” You ask. Well, okay – you know why it’s only you, but how is it only you is the question. He did not just send everyone else home since you’d be here. That would raise too much suspicion. 
Walking you to the patient room furthest from the potential public eye, he retells the new hire’s mistake. You find yourself in the same mindset as Dr. Miller as you silently thank them for not being more careful. 
“You could’ve rescheduled me, you know,” you tell him, eyebrow raised. 
“Yeah, I know,” he quips as he opens the door for you. 
You step inside, turning around to face him. “So why didn’t you?”
The door clicks shut, and Dr. Miller’s now face-to-face with you, head tilted down to meet your challenging gaze. The air in the room becomes dangerously charged. 
“I think you know why, angel,” he says, scarily smooth. 
You don’t back down. “Enlighten me.”
He takes a step closer to you, forcing you to step back. “Why should I? When that very reason is right between those legs already crying for me, huh? I bet she’s a fuckin’ mess already, ain’t she?” 
You gulp as your ass hits the exam table, not realizing that Dr. Miller has been slowly cornering you. 
Without giving you a moment to respond, his lips are crashing into yours, his large hands grabbing onto either side of your face to keep you against him as your body melts into his hold. His tongue licks across your bottom lip, and your mouth opens, letting him in. You mewl into his mouth, each of your tongues lapping one another’s flavors, your senses immediately being consumed. 
The kiss breaks, and you both are frantic. Your hands grab onto the exam table behind you and you hoist yourself up, your fingers already finding the hem of your shirt as you rip it off, letting it fall to the ground. Dr. Miller practically growls at the sight, his chocolate brown eyes blackened with pure need. 
He shucks off his white coat, letting it join your top as he pounces on you again. He nips at your bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth and letting it go with a pop as he drags his scruffy face across your jaw and down your neck, biting pretty little bruises everywhere his mouth touches. 
Your hands find the bottom of his shirt, taking the liberty of pulling it off and whining when it gets caught over his broad form. “Patience, angel, I’m not goin’ anywhere this time,” he coos, his eyes genuine. 
You huff out in mock annoyance, your eyes silently thanking him for the reassurance. You pull back to let Dr. Miller take off the upper portion of his scrubs. Your irritated façade is quick to fade as your eyes coast his body: his broad shoulders and tanned chest, the product of laborious activity throughout one’s life; your eyes drag down to his softer middle, the product of a happy, indulgent life. Your spit is suddenly thick. 
Dr. Miller’s thumb comes up to rub across your bottom lip. “Ya alright? Got a lil bit of drool right there,” he taunts. 
You tilt your head and take his thumb in your mouth, letting your spit coat his digit generously as your hands pull him in by his waist, your fingers scratching the expanse of his sides and his belly. “So fucking sexy,” you murmur, eyes alight with hunger. 
Unable to verbally deal with the compliment, Dr. Miller pulls his thumb from your mouth, settling his hand on your jaw as he pulls you in to kiss your lips again. It’s much softer this time, more savory. He takes his time with it, and it has both your resolves breaking as Dr. Miller’s free hand finds the clasp of your bra and undoes it with ease, the article joining the haphazard pile on the floor. 
Dr. Miller kisses down your neck once again, your body leaning back to give him more access. His mouth goes straight for your hardened nipple, his tongue circling the entire area before putting as much as he can in his mouth and sucks.His hand fondles your other breast while he works the one in his mouth. You’re moaning and writhing at the stimulation, your pussy utterly leaking past the barrier of your pants and onto the exam table. 
“Dr. Miller, please,” you gasp. “Please- need more,” you moan, eyes rolling back at a particular nip to your bud. You can feel him smile against you, his mouth relenting only to move to your other breast. Dr. Miller is all about detail, of course he needs to make sure every part of you receives ample attention. 
He releases you with a pop, a devilish grin on his face as he stands back to his full height. His hand snakes to your front, the pads of his fingers rubbing softly at your clothed center, your slick completely soaked through. “Ya need more?” He drawls. “Tell me what you need, baby,” he says sickeningly sweet, his entire hand moving to cup your sex, the squelch of your arousal making his cock twitch. 
“Fuck-” you squeak, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling. “T-touch me, p-please,” you stammer. 
To outsiders looking in – hell, to even you – it’d seem as though Dr. Miller is entirely calm and collected, at ease in the way he’s been teasing you. Yet, with the way his cock is straining the material of his scrubs and the way his chest heaves, he is anything but. He is so far gone, he nearly wanted to rip your clothes off in the waiting room and take you over the fucking counter. But he didn’t, much to his displeasure, but he tells himself the buildup is worth the wait. And, fuck- with you? It’s so fucking worth it.
“I am touchin’ you, darlin’. Touch how? Use those words, sweet girl, I know you can,” he tells you, squeezing your cunt in a way that has your belly doing flips.
“Oh, God-” your head rolls back, body on fire. “F-fuck me, Dr. Miller, n-need your- fuck- need your cock, need it so bad,” you plead, eyes tearing up the more you speak. The man finally broke you. 
Dr. Miller smiles wildly. “Atta girl,” he rewards you, “I’ll give it to ya,” he breathes. “Lord knows you’re all I been thinkin’ ‘bout,” he admits as his fingers begin nudging your pants down. 
“Yeah?” you breathe softly as you lift your hips for him. Even in your aroused craze, you can’t help but soften at the admission. “Haven’t been able to stop thinking about you either,” you tell him. 
This is so much more than a fucking hookup, you both think. But you ignore that fact for later. 
Shaking off the emotion, as soon as your pants join your clothes, you lean back, settling your elbows behind you to keep you up. Letting your legs fall open, you quirk your brow. “Well, cowboy?”
That brings his attention back. His eyes are fixed on your shiny cunt, his tongue twitches to drink you up. But, no, this is about you this time. And what you want is to be full. He’ll give it to you. But, first-
“I was too big for you last time,” he states matter-of-factly. 
“I-” your eyebrows furrow. “What?”
“I hurt you last time.”
“No you didn’t-”
“I could tell it did,” he rebuttals. 
Without another word, he steps out of the exam room. A beat passes and he’s back – with a fluffy pillow. 
“Um-”
“Lift,” he states. 
You lift your hips up, and Dr. Miller places the pillow underneath your lower back. “This should help open your pelvic floor more,” he says. “And ease the tightness of the position,” he adds.
And it does. 
“Oh,” you whisper. “Thanks,” you say, your cheeks heating up at the action. 
He leans over you to kiss your tummy before his hands settle on the insides of your thighs. “You okay?” He asks. His thumbs rub up and down, dangerously close to where you’re leaking for him.
“Mhm,” you hum, not trusting your voice anymore. 
“I’m gonna fuck you,” he says. 
“Oh, God, please-” you whine impatiently. 
“But I needa touch you first, angel, I don’t wanna hurt you. Please?”
How can you say no to that? To his thick fingers and the way you know he can use them so expertly? How can you say no to the hands that have built his career or to the hands that’ll easily make you fall apart just as much as you know his cock would? You’d be an absolute dumbass to say no to that.
“Okay, Dr. Miller,” you say, voice shaky in anticipation. 
“Joel,” he offers.
Your heart skips a beat. “Joel?” you question. 
“Mhm,” he hums. “My name- well, first name, I guess,” he pauses. His fingers move closer to your core, the softest of touches ghost through your seam. You take a sharp breath in. “Just tellin’ you cuz I wanna hear you moan it when I make a mess a’ you. I bet it’ll sound real pretty, baby.”
His thumb finds your clit, then, and you do exactly what Dr. Miller – Joel – wanted. You moan out his name deliciously, sending him groaning at the pang of desire shooting up his spine, his cock weeping for attention. 
“Fuck yeah, angel, that’s it. Knew you’d sound so fuckin’ gorgeous, fuck-”
His thumb continues its assault on your throbbing bud while the middle finger on his other hand rubs through your wet folds, collecting up the arousal before he pushes into your entrance. 
It’s an easy push, his fingers are thick, so there’s still a slight stretch amongst the pleasure. The work he puts in with both hands has your hips bucking in his touch, and it eases your body enough for him to slip his ring finger along his other. 
His two fingers fuck into you at a sweet pace, the length of him reaching places your own fingers have never felt before. It’s pure ecstacy. “Oh, Joel, yes- shitshitshit, that feels so fucking good,” you cry, your head lolling around like a bobblehead, your body falling weaker and weaker the more he plays with you. 
“Yeah, baby? Like that? That feel good?” He grunts, his heart beating a mile a minute at how fucking pretty and wild you look and sound from his fingers alone. “So fuckin’ wet, baby,” he snarls. “You know what, pretty girl?”
“What?” you whine, trying your best to keep your eyes open and on him as your head begins to tingle from how hard you’re panting. 
“I think you’re ready to take me, baby, I think she’s so fuckin’ ready,” he grins, his fingers adopting a come-here motion, your sobs reverberating throughout the tiny exam room. 
“Come for me first, pretty girl, make a mess on my fuckin’ fingers, and I’ll give what you’ve been crying for,” he all but demands as he looks down and lets a big glob of his spit fall directly onto your clit, his fingers gliding over you even quicker in the mixture. 
“Fuck- Joel!” you scream, the spit being the action that completely throws you over the edge. 
“Jesus, angel, fuck-” he stills his fingers, letting himself feel the flutter of your warmth as you cream all around him.“So fuckin’ perfect comin’ all over my fingers, goddamn, messy fuckin’ girl,” he rambles, his eyes roaming every inch of your body, taking in every twitch, shake, and mewl your body is giving him. 
Your breathing starts to slow, muscles relaxing but not quite over its shaking. He pulls his fingers out of you and brings it directly to his mouth, his cock nearly bursting at the taste of you on his tongue. Another time, he thinks to himself as he bends down to pull the rest of his scrubs off, using the moment to place a chaste kiss to your puffy clit. You yelp at the sensation, a lazy, blissed out smile blesses him, and he can hear his heartbeat thrum in his ears at the sight. 
Joel crowds himself between your thighs again, pumping his cock a few times, his thumb reaching for the precum leaking at his slit and spreading it all over his length. 
“How you feelin’?” Joel checks in. 
“So fucking good, Joel,” you respond, doe-eyed but entirely honest. 
He wants to kiss you so fucking bad.
So he does. 
He leans over you as best as he can in this angle, his length rubbing against your folds as he leans in, his hand wraps at the base of your neck, pulling you in for an open-mouthed kiss – wet, hot, and slow. He pulls away with a blush across his cheeks, and your face is entirely engulfed by flames, too. Did that kiss make him nervous? Did it make you nervous?
Unable to look away from each other, you utter the first thing that comes to mind. “Please,” you whisper, though you don’t really know what you’re pleading for. 
“I got ya,” Joel whispers, pulling himself back to line up his erection with your entrance. 
Even though Joel’s fingers were a stretch all on their own and your body was quick to adjust, you genuinely don’t think anything could truly prepare you for the length and girth of Dr. Joel Miller.
Last week, it was damn near impossible. Thinking back to it, honestly, you think you might want to even thank the nurse that interrupted you two. Still, if Joel hadn’t prepared you today with his fingers, you definitely wouldn’t have been able to take him as fast as you are now.
He pushes in just the tip, and you both gasp at the initial pleasure. Your mewls are more pleasurable than painful this time around, and Joel takes that as the go-ahead to keep going.
“You tell me if I needa stop, darlin’, I’ll stop immediately,” Joel grunts, trying his best to keep slow. 
“God, fuck- Joel, I swear to God, you better not stop- need you so bad,” you lament. He finally pushes himself to the hilt, your rambling continuing as he does so. “Please fuck me, baby, fuck me hard, da-” you gasp and slap your hand over your mouth, catching yourself before you let yourself finish that word. 
Joel pauses all movement, his hands tightly on your hips as his purely black eyes stare down at you. “What’d ya say, angel?”
“J-Joel, I-I’m sorry, I don’t know what-”
“Not my question, babygirl,” he warns softly. “What’d you call me?”
You gulp, opting to just stare at him, silently begging him to spare you of the embarrassment. 
He withdraws from you, all the way out to the tip, then, oh so slowly he pushes back in. He pauses halfway, eyebrow raised. Words.
“Please, Jo-” you start. His hand squeezes your hip in warning. “Please… Daddy, please,” you whine, finally giving in. With that, he pushes in roughly to the hilt, knocking all the wind from your lungs as pure pleasure flows through every nerve in your body. “Oh, fuck!”
“That’s it, angel, such a good fuckin’ girl,” he moans, his thrusts slow but calculated. “Makin’ daddy feel so good, baby, shit-” he tells you, his own eyes finally fluttering shut as he revels in the feeling of the warmth of your walls, tight and fucking perfect.
“How’s daddy’s girl feelin’, baby? Feelin’ good? Hm?” he grunts with a particular thrust forward. 
“So- fuck-” you try to get out, your sweet cries of euphoria cutting you off and forcing you into incoherency. But you’ve experienced enough in this short time with Dr. Miller – with Joel – to know he needs this communication. He thrives on it. So you try your damn hardest. And fuck, it nearly sends him to his end. 
“F-feels so good, so so good- mmm, shit- love your cock s’much, daddy,” you slur, eyes nearly going cross-eyed as Joel’s hips start to move faster, his fingers gripping tight enough to leave little bruises on your waist, a matching set to the marks across your neck and chest. 
The wanton moans spilling from your mouth spurs Joel on, his brain short-circuiting at the feel of your velvety core consuming him. You feel him twitch before he feels you flutter. The sensation wakes you up a little, a wave of confidence overtaking you despite the fervent drive of his hips. 
“You’re close, daddy,” you whine, a mischievous grin across your face. “Can feel you,” you tell him, thrusting your hips softly, attempting to meet his every push and pull with the help of the pillow gliding underneath you. 
“Fuck-” he chokes, his hips only faltering in pace for barely a moment. One hand lets go of your waist and falls where you two are connected. “Need you- shit-” he pants. “Need you to come ‘round daddy’s cock first, pretty girl.” His thumb finds your nerves, slick and sensitive, and wastes no time in forcing you to the brink of another orgasm. 
His fingers circle you, matching the rhythm of his hips, and instantly, your eyes clamp shut, back arching deliciously as you let your legs open impossibly further. “Oh, daddy- oh God, oh fuck- I’m gonna come, I’m gonna-” you yell as your throat becomes hoarse, your chest sinking and rising as you let your body relish in the fire that Joel is throwing you into. 
“Give it t’me, lemme feel you, angel,” Joel urges, his lower tummy flexing as he feels your inner walls spasm and soak his pulsing length.  
“Oh, yes- yeah, fuck- please,” you babble mindlessly. Pulling yourself to sit up, your hand planted behind you, you pull Joel in, lips ghosting each other as his quick breaths fan against your lips. “You gonna come? My pussy that good, daddy?”
Your random spurts of teasing has Joel in all sorts of panic. Usually, he’s one to call the shots, and all his past partners never wanted or requested anything different, but it seems as though he has finally met his match. “Fuckin- Christ, doll- pussy’s so fuckin’ good, baby, daddy’s gonna fuckin- oh fuck-” he keens, pulling out just in time for his cock to spill his entire worth across your mound and your lower belly. 
“Oh my god,” you moan to yourself, your pussy clenching around nothing at the sight of him all over you. 
Joel takes a minute to catch his breath, his eyes scanning every inch of you like he didn’t just violate every Doctor oath he’s ever taken. 
“I think I need to be the one to check in this time,” you let out in a breathy laugh. “You okay?”
He still isn’t looking in your eye, and it makes you nervous. Is he regretting everything now? “Joel?” you call, barely audible. 
His eyes snap to yours before they fall back to where he was looking before. “Yeah, yeah, I’m alright, baby, I just, uh-”
Cutting himself off, he bends down slowly. You watch him, confused but intrigued. He sticks his tongue out, flat, and licks. From your mound to the lower part of your belly, he collects up the salty, milky liquid on his tongue. 
He brings his mouth up to you, his hand finding purchase at the back of your neck. He pulls you into his mouth, his tongue invites itself into your space along with the heady musk of his come, and you welcome it greedily, swallowing every little bit of his arousal that you can.
You break away just before his watch beeps: 5:45pm, fifteen minutes until closing. “That was-”
“I’m sorry, that was disgustin’ I don’t know why I jus’ did that-”
You lean in to nip at him, pulling away with a suck to his pouty bottom lip. “That was hot, Dr. Miller,” you smirk. 
Dr. Miller’s exam rooms, although not often, can see a lot of bodily fluids. Obviously not the kinds that you two have exchanged together, but with the notion of removing casts and such, sweat is bound to get everywhere. So every room holds baby and/or sanitizing wipes just in case. 
He grabs a pack of baby wipes underneath the cabinet and takes out a few. He wipes your entire lower half down, and grabs some more from the pack to wipe himself off. It’s a dance of wobbly limbs as both of you help each other dress back up, you being particularly whiny at how stiff the scrub material is when you try and blame it on his big size. 
“I thought you liked how big I am?” He quips, your eyebrows shooting up in response as you slap his chest. 
All dressed up, you two walk out of the exam room, both you and Dr. Miller on cloud nine as you make your way back to the front office.
Before reaching the door, he grabs on your waist, pulling you against the wall, towering over you. That beautiful Southern gentleman smile bright on display, the kind of smile that has your knees wanting to buckle. 
“I- I had a great time with you,” he says, a little bashful. Sure, the things you did together were otherworldly, but the things that came after? How he was able to help clean you, dress you, and simply just be with you afterwards? He really can’t remember a time he’s felt so right. 
“I did, too,” you tell him. “But, I think…” you trail off. 
His stomach sinks. Here it comes. We shouldn’t be doing this anymore, he knows you’ll say. 
“I think I can’t be your patient anymore,” you whisper with a giggle, wrapping your arms around his neck. 
“Dear God, you just about gave me a damn heart attack,” he huffs, burying his head into the crook of your neck, littering playful nips anywhere he can reach as payback for scaring him. 
You two break out in laughter, it slowly turning into an impromptu makeout session as his lips find yours again, both of you insatiable for one another’s taste. 
You’re so caught up in each other that neither of you realize the front door of the office unlocks, nor do you realize someone is entering the hallway you two are currently in. 
You also don’t hear the gasp coming from the person either, not until-
“Dr. Miller?!”
Shit. 
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NEXT (coming soon) ->
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bookshelf-dust · 8 months
Text
kiss it better
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steve harrington x fem!reader
word count: 3,176
warnings: swearing, sick fic (sorta), steve not taking care of himself, anxiety, stress, mental breakdown?, best friends to lovers deal (let me know if i missed something)
a/n: hi! it’s been awhile. i’m sorry about that. this has been a very slow process for me. my mental health is shit, and that’s probably obvious. i hope it hasn’t seeped into this too much, but it probably will with the next few things i write. i apologize for taking so long to post, for disappearing, for not really making this the blog it once was. but i’m not the same person i was then. so we’ll see where this goes. i hope you enjoy this one a little. i love you.
————
The shrill sound of a phone ringing scares you awake, eyes flying open, heart pounding so aggressively you fear for a split second that it might burst. 
You sit up quickly, enough so that you make yourself dizzy trying to get your bearings. You roll onto your side, and reach blindly across the edge of your nightstand, grabbing for the green plastic that’s shaking with the force of which it’s ringing. 
You almost fall out of bed, just managing to catch yourself as you bring the phone to your ear. 
“Hello?”
Your voice comes out weak, thick with sleep and the longing for more rest. It startles you and makes you clear your throat. 
“Hey, it’s me.”
The voice on the other line is even weaker than your own. It’s quiet.
“Steve?”
Your eyes find the alarm clock on your dresser, bright red letters telling you it’s just after one in the morning. You might be half-asleep, but you’re conscious enough that your heart rate picks up, registering that this isn’t when your best friend normally calls. 
You hear him breathe, along with some shuffling. He’s nodding his head, but realizes you can’t see. 
“Yeah. Listen,” he drags a shaking hand down his face. “I’m sorry to call so late.”
“Hey, it’s okay. What’s the matter? Is something wrong?”
He goes quiet for a moment, but you wait patiently for him to continue. He must be trying to get something out, and you don’t want to pressure him, or cause him stress in any way. 
Steve huffs, frustrated with himself. 
“I-I’ve got an insane headache, and we’re out of goddamn medicine. My parents were here, and my mom was hungover and I guess she must’ve emptied us out, but it hurts too bad to drive, and…” He trails off, breathing heavily. 
His pause lends you a moment to process, and you decide to speak up. If his head is killing him, you know finding the energy to speak to you, let alone call, has to be draining. You wouldn’t want him to suffer anymore than he already is. 
“Stevie?” you start, happy to hear a small hum that encourages you to go on. He registers what you’ve called him, something you don’t call him often, and his chest aches. “I’ve got some I can bring you. I think all the drugstores nearby are closed.” 
You swing your legs out from under the covers, pushing yourself off the mattress. Pressing the phone between your cheek and shoulder, you pull on the pair of sweats slung over the end of your bed, trying not to bust your ass as you hop into them. 
“Is anything else hurting you?” you ask, gently as can be. 
“Honestly?” he responds. “I think I’m sick. I can’t be sick, can I?”
You stand upright once again, taking the phone firmly in your hand. 
“I think even King Steve can get sick from time to time. I’ll be there soon, okay?”
————
Steve’s not sure you understand him. He can’t be sick. He’s got shit to do. He has a shift tomorrow, and he’s pretty sure Dustin needs a ride one day this week because Claudia is on a “girls trip.” He has to keep working on his college essay, because he’d told you he was almost done, but really he isn’t. 
Steve doesn’t have the time to be sick. And he can’t have you ruining your own schedule to come and babysit him. He’s supposed to be the babysitter. Not the charge. 
He should be able to take care of himself, but of course, the one time his parents come home they clean out his mediocre supply of medicine. Something he’s always stocked up on, given his tendency to get the shit beat out of him, or the nasty string of tension headaches that just won’t quit. 
And his head is killing him. He has his palms pressed to his temples, trying (and failing) to dull the ache. There aren’t any lights on in the kitchen, where he’s sitting on the floor, back pressed to the cabinets. 
He’s trying not to move too much either, because he’s dizzy. This probably has to do with the fact that he skipped dinner, feeling too nauseous to eat. Now that Steve is hungry, he fears he won’t be able to get up and fix anything. 
Maybe you’ll be able to help, he thinks. But that voice is quick with a counter argument. No. I need to do it. 
He perks up at the sound of the front door opening. “Steve?” you call out, careful not to slam the door or yell too loud. It’s also why you hadn’t rung the doorbell. 
Steve raps his knuckles softly against the countertop, hoping it’ll be enough to clue you in. He can’t bring himself to shout right now. You follow the sound, taking the few steps toward the kitchen. 
When your eyes lock on his figure, see the way the heels of his hands press into his eyes, you realize how young he looks. He almost looks small, legs pulled up to his chest, big, lanky body compacted as much as possible. He looks vulnerable. You’re sure he hates that. 
“Hi, Steve,” you say, keeping your voice low. 
He looks up at you, and his face splits into a sweet grin. He’s happy that you’re here, even if that voice is screaming at him, wanting to punish him for asking for help. 
“Hey, honey.” You smile back at him, and his heart rate picks up. Sometimes he forgets how beautiful you are, and then you’re standing in front of him, snatching every last breath from his lungs. 
You set your bag down beside him and reach out, brushing his hair back from his forehead. He feels a little warm, but not feverishly so. 
You move away from him, grabbing a cup from the drying rack. You fill it up with water and crouch at his side. Steve takes the glass from you, head resting against the cabinet to watch as you grab him some medicine. You hand him a few pills, and he takes them quickly. If he doesn’t get this headache calmed down soon, he thinks he might just die. 
Steve keeps drinking the water you gave him, and you push his hair back again, watching the way it curls around his ears. 
He drinks about half of the water before he pauses, taking a deep breath. He looks at you then. It’s mostly dark in the kitchen, but the lamp on the table by the front door is on, so you’re a little backlit from it. Not to mention the moonlight seeping in from the window above the sink.
You look gorgeous. And you came over to take care of him. You got up, at one in the morning, and drove to his house, just because he asked you to. Hell, he hadn’t even asked. He hadn’t gotten the words out. But you’d known. You’d known exactly what he was trying to ask, and you’d offered your help with no qualms. 
Steve’s nose starts to sting, and that pressure from behind his eyes—it starts to release. Before he knows it, his vision is getting cloudy, and he’s crying. He can’t be crying, can he? 
You carefully remove the glass from his hand and move in between his spread knees. 
“Steve, it’s okay. I’m here, and I’m gonna take top notch care of you.” 
“I know you are,” he says, voice breaking. “But I should be able to do it myself. I always do it myself.” He presses his hands against his face, but you catch his wrists and gently pull them away. 
You hold your arms out, and Steve practically falls into you. He buries his face in your neck. He can feel the warmth of your skin, the cotton of your sleep shirt. You smell like soap, that fancy conditioner you use. 
One of your hands finds the base of his neck, nails scratching gently over his scalp, thumb dragging over the top of his spine. Your other rubs soothingly up and down his back. 
“But the thing is, Stevie, you don’t have to.” 
He’s not a loud crier. But he is sort of panicky, breaths coming quick and short, chest heaving against your own. “I know you’ve always had to do a lot by yourself, but you can ask for help, and you don’t have to punish yourself for it, either.”
You feel him nod against your collarbone. His hands are fisting the back of your shirt. Eventually, he pulls away, but keeps his eyes closed. He tries to keep his head turned from your gaze. 
“Hey. Look at me.”
He does, albeit reluctantly. Steve’s cheeks are flushed, lashes clumped together and lips parted where he tries to suck in a good deep breath. 
You reach up, fingers gently sweeping away the remainder of the tears on his face. He leans into your touch, and you let him. You lean forward and press a sweet kiss to his forehead. You’ve never done that before.
Steve recognizes that you’ve never done it before, even if it’s sort of fuzzy. Sure, he’s kissed the back of your hand and you’ve reciprocated, but he’s usually the one to initiate physical affection. You’re too shy most often, even if you ache to do it. 
Fuck, he wishes he were a little more coherent right now. 
“Can you stand for me? It’s late, and I think you need to rest.”
He runs a hand through his hair. “Yeah, sure.” Now that he’s thinking about it, getting in bed sounds so nice. 
You stand first, and watch as Steve pushes off the floor, gripping the countertop on the way up to steady himself. 
“Come on. The stairs are gonna be a pain.”
He reaches out for you, and you let him take your arm. He pads out to the staircase, and you watch each precarious step he takes, hoping he won’t get too woozy and trip. 
By the time he finally makes it up there, he’s wrapped both arms around your waist and buried his face between your shoulder blades. You soften beneath his hold. 
You walk slowly towards his bedroom, and he waddles behind you. You push the door open. “M’kay, Steve. Wanna change clothes and hop into bed?” 
He pulls off of you and grabs hold of his dresser. “I’m not givin’ you a free show.”
You snort. “I’ll go get some more water and be right back.”
His grin fades. “Please be fast.” He doesn’t want you to go. He doesn’t want you to leave him. 
“Steve, I’m practically The Flash.”
He laughs, pulling a pair of sweats and a t-shirt out of the drawer. Usually he’d sleep in less, but with you here he feels he should keep his modesty.
When you return, he takes the water from you, drinking it faster than he probably should. Steve feels like he’s had the shit beat out of him, and for once—he hasn’t. 
You’d sat down on the edge of the bed, not noticing the way he’s staring at you. You look up when he sets the glass down. He drags both hands down his face. 
“What’s wrong?” you ask.
He exhales. “I want you to stay here with me, but I don’t want you to get sick. The idea of you being on the couch, which is like, miles away, is driving me insane.”
“Steve?”
“Huh?”
“Can’t I just sleep on the futon?”
His eyes move towards the other side of his room where said piece of furniture is pressed against the wall. He’d bought it when group sleepovers became a thing after all they’d dealt with. Jesus, his brain really isn’t working. 
“Oh. Yeah, honey. Just don’t want you to go far.” 
You lean forward and push his hair back from his forehead. You’ll need to remember to take his temperature come morning.
“I’m not going anywhere, Steve. I promise. Not until you’re all better.”
————
When Steve wakes up, you’re not there. He starts to panic, thinking maybe he’d been too much, maybe he’d shown you a side of himself he shouldn’t have, that maybe you left. 
But you return to his room just as he’s about to start looking for you. There’s a thermometer in your hand. 
“Morning, sleepy boy. Are you coherent enough for me to check your temperature? Or no?”
He yanks the covers off of himself, and his shirt has ridden up. You catch a sliver of tummy before he sits up fully, and you miss it the second it’s gone. 
“Hit me, I can take it.”
You roll your eyes but stick the thermometer under his tongue when he opens his mouth. When you pull it away, you’re happy to see he hasn’t got a fever. He was warm last night when you kissed his forehead, but you’re thinking it was from stress or just overheating. 
“No fever. What’s buggin’ you today, Stevie?”
He flops onto his back, and his shirt rides up again. You mentally slap yourself for being so enamored by it. All your brain can compute is tummy. Steve’s tummy. “My head still, and my stomach. I feel like I haven’t slept in four years.”
His words snap you out of your reverie. “Four years? That’s incredible. When’s the last time you ate something?”
Steve stares at you for a moment, though it looks as if there isn’t a single thought behind his eyes. “Yesterday…morning. I think. Yeah, I had a banana.”
You stare back, rather appalled at his statement. “Steve.”
“Hm?”
“All you’ve had to eat in the past twenty four hours is a banana?”
“Yep.”
“Jesus christ. Get your ass up and come with me.”
Steve doesn’t move. Rather he watches you move, right out the door and towards the top of the stairs. You pause and turn around, crossing your arms. 
He huffs. And then he slides down the side of the bed like a child before crawling up and following you to the kitchen. 
Over the course of the next few hours, you manage to get Steve to eat, shower, and go for a short walk, weather permitting and all. He’s looking astronomically better than he did last night. 
Steve sits opposite you on the couch, his socked feet in your lap. “What do you think my deal is?”
You rub your hand over his calf. “I think you just had a little bug. Or maybe you let yourself get too stressed out and your body couldn’t take it.”
He blinks. “Is that…that's not a thing? Is it?”
“When’s the last time you gave yourself a fuckin’ break, Steve? When you just took a day for yourself rather than worrying about who needs to go where, or if you’ll have to cover a shift? You have to take care of yourself, or this is the kind of shit that happens.”
“Being overwhelmed about your parents, not eating, worrying about that application, all of that is fucking with you. That headache was probably a stress headache. They’re killer. I want you to be healthy and comfortable, Steve.”
You exhale, and close your eyes. When you open them, Steve has sat up, scooting towards you on your end of the couch. 
He might still be tired, but he can’t believe this. He can’t believe you. No one has ever worried for him in this way. 
“Why are you looking at me like that?” you ask. 
He barely even registers your words, too busy memorizing every line on your face. You look so fucking beautiful. It almost makes him angry. 
“I’m thinkin’ about how bad I want to kiss you.”
Your face starts to burn. You shove his shoulder. He looks at the place where you’d pushed, quirking a brow, but grinning nonetheless.
“What?”
“Steve, you can’t say shit like that.”
“How come?”
“Because we’re friends.”
“Best friends.”
“Well yeah, but best friends don’t say that to one another.”
His grin widens. He looks more awake than he has this entire time. 
“Oh, but you haven’t said it.”
You blink. “Huh?”
Steve gets his voice up that little bit higher, doing a cheap imitation of you. “‘Best friends don’t say that to one another.’ Now, correct me if I’m wrong, but that implies you want a kiss too, doesn’t it?”
You drag your hands down your face and flop back against the arm of the couch. 
“So you gonna say it, or what?” He’s shifted, and you can feel him hovering over you, but you refuse to move your hands. 
“Of course I’m thinking about kissing you, Steve.” You suck in a breath and open your eyes, locking with his own. “But you’ve got cooties.”
Steve rolls his eyes before he backs up and yanks on your ankle so that you’re flat against the couch. 
“You did not just lecture me about self-care just to tell me I have cooties. I didn’t even have a fever.” 
“I didn’t even have a fever,” you mock, lowering your voice in what is quite possibly the worst impression of him you could do.
He’s quick about it. Almost stealthy, not that you’d ever boost his ego by telling him so. But his fingers are reaching for your sides, the tips dancing over your shirt, that tiny sliver of hip showing where it’s ridden up. 
Steve is practically drunk off of your laugh. It’s the sweetest sound he’s ever heard, and when he goes for your neck, when you tilt your head and trap his fingers between your cheek and shoulder, he thinks he could die. 
You and your laugh. The fact that you drove over at one in the fucking morning, without even thinking about it, just because you care. That you stayed the night, listened to his pitiful thoughts, took care of him…it’s too much. 
Never in his life did he think he’d find someone like you. Someone who makes him feel like he matters. You’d made him realize how smart he is, how capable. That he could do things for himself and not just to please his dickhead father. 
You have made him whole. 
He lets up when you start breathing extra heavily, only to tickle the underside of your foot before he quits, just to piss you off. You kick him in the side. 
“I think a kiss from my very favorite person might be the best form of self-care there is, honey.”
You sit up. “Wow. King Steve really never died.” He raises his hands like he might tickle you again, but you catch them before he can do any damage. “Okay, sorry!” 
Before he can register it, you’ve leaned in and pressed your lips to his. When he does realize, he lets out a surprised hum, and you can feel that smartass smirk forming on his face. 
When you pull away, he whines. 
“All better?”
Steve falls back against the couch, pulling you with him just to get that laugh out of you again. 
“I’m healed.”
————
please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33
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nxuvillette · 16 days
Text
CLASS IS IN SESSION — DR . RATIO
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synopsis : vertias decided to have a little bit of fun with you during one of his lectures.
❥- pairings : vertias ratio x fem!reader
❥- note : finally back out of my slump ! sort of.. LMAO. this post was inspired by this thirst, all credit goes to them :) ! i hope you enjoy and reblogs are greatly appreciated <3.
content warnings : nsfw [17+], fem!reader, ageless + blank blogs dni, use of a vibrator, reader is in class, mentions of hookups, teasing, cum mentions, professor!vertias ( they are around the same age ! ), reader is a bit shy.
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It wasn’t smart of you to do, no. You should have shut down Vertias the moment he even thought of the idea, but his persuasion corrupted your mind and made you unable to say no. Then again, it was harmless fun! It’s not like anybody would actually be able to notice the beads of sweat that chased down your face, or how your eyes kept flickering at that damn clock that just couldn’t seem to move any faster.
Down below you was Vertias Ratio in all of his glory. He spoke nonsense about mathematics and how to do the proper formula in order to solve the problem written on the board. You knew he loved nothing better than teaching complete, well, idiots how to do things the right way. The man you had been sneaking around with always spoke negatively about the classmates you had. He said they would probably never obtain great knowledge like he did. 
He hadn’t bat even an eyelash at you the entire time. He was merely too focused on teaching the class he almost forgot about the little vibrating object that was tucked nice and snug between your legs. You, however, were fully aware of the toy that was buzzing away inside your panties. Although it was quite subtle, you were still feeling such a great wave of pleasure against your clit. You were convinced that you had soaked through your panties and were probably making a mess on the chair underneath you, but that wasn’t your biggest concern at all. Honestly, you didn’t know why you agreed to such a lewd thing. It might have been because thrill was something you were into, but then again, thrills came with loads of risk.
The scholar then turned to face the many people sitting inside his lecture hall. His amber eyes landed on you sitting in the third row. Vertias could feel his cock aching in his boxers, knowing that your pussy was probably dripping with arousal. He maintained his serious facade, and decided to have some fun.
He stepped towards the desk at his table, leaning over to hold the controller that went together with the vibrator inside you. Suddenly, the buzzing became more intense. It whirred against your folds and made you snap your thighs together almost immediately. Vertias could hardly hide the smirk on his features when he saw you trembling in your seat and shifting around uncomfortably. How fucking cute.
“(Y/N), do you know the answer?” he questioned, motioning his head at the equation written on the board. 
Your cheeks burned the moment his question registered inside your brain. You couldn’t fucking believe him right now. It was almost as if he was setting you up to embarrass the hell out of you. Not to mention, you hadn’t been paying attention the entire time. You really didn’t know the answer, and you were far too occupied with the burning pleasure between your legs to even think of the solution. 
The many eyes of the people sitting around you were felt. It was becoming an awkward silence given how long you had been quiet for. “N-No, I have yet to s-solve it!” the last few words almost came out like a gasp, because Vertias pumped up the pleasure. 
He didn’t seem to mind your reply. If it was any other person, he would have scolded them with some snarky comment that would have for sure left them feeling stupid. “Do try and work faster next time.” he then turned around, scraping the chalk against the board to begin another equation.
But, just as he finished, the bell signaling that his class was over rang in your ears. You felt immediate relief come over you, but once you caught his eyes looking right at you, you knew that it wasn’t really over for you anyway. 
You began to pack up your things while the other people inside of the room filed out into the hallway. This left you completely alone with Vertias. He was waiting for you down below. It didn’t take you long to reach the man you were secretly fucking for months on end. He could see the way your thighs were shaking and how your breathing was just a bit heavier than usual. He was so fucking thankful that this stupid class was over. Vertias couldn’t hide his bulge any longer.
The taller man pulled you against his body. Butterflies swarmed your stomach the moment you felt his cock pressing against your belly. It was painfully hard. You automatically knew what he wanted by the way his hands were exploring your body. Your hands rested on his muscular shoulders while his fingers traveled below to your skirt. A sigh left his mouth when he made contact with your underwear that were completely soaked through. 
Vertias’ digits pulled your panties aside. His fingertips brushed your clit, making you whimper into his ear. Oh my, you were just so fucking sensitive for him. He loved the way you were melting in his hands like putty. “How dirty of you..” he whispered. “Your pussy is so wet.. you must have been having the time of your life in your seat.”
Your eyes were focused on the ground before you. It felt almost embarrassing knowing what he was doing to you. “Vertias.. please.” you mewled as he played with your sensitive bead. 
He forced you to look at him. His eyes were completely blown with lust and you could just sense how turned on he was. “If anyone asks.. I’m giving you some extra credit, got it?” he raised his eyebrows, waiting for your reply. 
You nodded. “Y-Yes..”
“Good.. now sit on my desk. We’re gonna be here a while..” he whispered, squeezing your lips together.
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© NXUVILLETTE ┆ all rights reserved, do not repost, translate, or claim as your own.
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mavsstar · 11 months
Text
𝑀𝑦 𝑆𝑤𝑒𝑒𝑡 𝑃𝑒𝑎
Summary ︱Mr. Levinson lives right next door to you, the sweet, innocent college girl. Little do you know that you're Mr. Levinson's favorite neighbor. He's there every chance you need the slightest of help, maybe a little too much.
Pairings︱Mechanic!Ari Levinson x Innocent!Fem!Reader, Robert Pronge x Innocent!Fem!Reader
W.C︱4k
Warnings︱18+ MINORS DNI, Trailer Park AU, it's pretty tame for right now, pet names (Sweet Pea),cursing, reader is scared of Pronge, masturbation (m!) and I think that is all the warnings. Let me know if I missed any!
Author's note︱I am very excited for this series :) This is set around the 90s just because I feel like it fits better with the idea I have going on in my head. It has been awhile since I've written anything so I'm hoping it's not too terrible. I hope you will enjoy this! Feedback is appreciated! Follow my side blog and turn on post notifications :D
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“Did you see Mr. Levinson today?” your Mother’s friend, Valerie, asked while wiggling her eyebrows. 
“Nope,” you instantly responded. “Have you?” 
“Already got my dose of that sexy man.” She smirked while winking at you. 
Ari Levinson towered everyone he’s ever met. He stood at a proud 6'6. It was hard to miss the luscious brown locks that fell over his face and the cerulean blue eyes that you could never find your way out of. His beard adorned his jaw and hid the pump rose colored lips he held.
Even when he was doused in motor oil and dirt he was still a beautiful man. He was your neighbor and very well known at the trailer park. Ari was a woman’s walking wet dream come to life. 
“He’s already up?” you asked as your eyes bulged out of your head. “It’s like 6 in the morning.” 
“Of course he’s up, he’s having his morning coffee.” 
You rolled your eyes playfully. “Only you would know that stalker.”
“It’s not stalking Y/N, it's called being an astute observer,” she retorted. “That’s besides the point, shouldn’t you be heading out by now?” 
“I should be but…” you started to answer, looking out the window cautiously, “I have a feeling you know who is outside.”
“If you don’t leave now you’ll be late for work which by the way is in 20 minutes,” she reminded you, pointing towards the clock. 
“Please don’t remind me.” You internally groaned as you threw your head back and rubbed your eyes. 
After a few moments you finally decided to lift yourself from the couch and head your way out. Goosebumps arose on your arms as you opened the front door. You hated this kind of weather, you couldn’t be without a sweater in the morning but by 3pm you’d be sweating like a dog. You shrugged on your brother's jacket, not bothering to zip it up and closed the front door.
Just as you predicted, the person you dreaded seeing most was standing right outside, Mr. Pronge. 
Robert Pronge was your neighbor and lived right across from you. Ever since you moved in he formed the bad habit of staring at you and hitting on you like there’s no tomorrow. From what you heard he was a sick sadistic bastard who liked to torture girls with pleasure. He’s had many lovers enter the trailer but seemingly none of them come back.  
You didn’t like the way he makes you feel. It felt like a hungry lion stalking its predator, ready to pounce at any moment’s notice. At the same time you couldn’t help but feel hot. Everytime he was near you, your heart raced from the fear and you felt a pulse in between your legs. 
“Morning Princess!” Mr. Pronge called out from his front lawn.
“Good morning Mr. Pronge!” You greeted back but only to be polite. You tried to avoid looking too much at him and instead looked towards the ground. 
You heard shoes beating against the ground and you prayed with all your heart that it was someone else running. Luck was not on your side that morning. When you looked up it was the one and only Mr. Pronge. 
“Where are you going Princess?” he asked. His breath was minty fresh even though his appearance would say otherwise. 
“To work,” you bluntly replied, trying to open your car door. 
“Aw Princess, don’t be like that,” he cooed. Once you did get your car door open, he immediately slammed it closed, almost smashing your finger in the process. “I’ll give you a ride. Come on, let's go.” 
“I appreciate the offer Mr. Pronge but I can take myself,” you insisted while attempting to reopen your car door. 
“Princess…” he warningly said.
Mr. Pronge didn’t like it when people told him no. The word no did not exist in his world. 
“I said I’ll give you a ride.” 
“Leave her alone Robert!” Ari yelled from his porch, causing the both of you to turn around. “She’s probably late for work!” 
Mr. Pronge sighed as he stepped back in defeat. “I’ll take you next time Princess.” 
You internally groaned at his comment. He could never leave you alone. Every morning he would play this game with you. On the bright side, you were one of the very few people allowed to tell him no and get away with it. 
“Thank you Mr. Levinson!” you yelled as you got in the car. 
“Anytime!” Ari walked over to Robert after you drove off. Though his eyes never peeled off from you the entire time. 
“You’re always in my way,” Robert playfully commented. 
Ari chuckled at the jab. Ari always had to save you from him every morning without fail. “Rob, how many times have I told you to leave the poor girl alone?” He asked as he brought his cup of coffee to his lips. 
“I will never leave her alone,” he answered with a proud smirk. “Not until I make her mine.” 
“Oh please! You’re old!” Ari jabbed at him. “She’s going to want a hot 20 year old guy not some 40 year old.” 
“Her father was not present in her life.” 
“What does that have to do with anything?!” Ari asked, confused at Robert’s statement.
“The girl has major daddy issues, Ari,” Robert said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “All I gotta do is caress her a bit, say sweet nothings in her ear and bam! She will fall in love with me.”
“Do that and she will call the cops on you.” 
“I’d like to see her try,” Robert remarked as he crossed his arms across his chest. “Besides, why do you care?” 
“Because her mother is really starting to get concerned and-” 
“Oh that's why you’re concerned!” Robert hooted. “You want to fuck the mom!” 
“I do not want to have sex with her mom,” Ari declared with a serious tone. “The woman is stressed enough and I feel bad for her and I feel bad for the girl. I see her peek her head out of the door every morning to avoid you.” 
“Ari?” 
“Yes Rob?” 
“Mind your business.” 
The following morning was the same dreadful routine. You were trying to stall, not wanting to face Mr. Pronge though you knew he would be there. He always was. Even when you would try to leave at an earlier time. It’s like he would sleep there and wait for you. 
 Your mother shoved your car keys in your hand. “Sweetie, you need to go now before you’re late.”
“But what if he’s out there?” you asked with a slight hint of fear. 
“Is he still bothering you?!” she questioned, her overprotectiveness coming out. “I’ve had enough, I’m going out there.” 
“No! No! No!” you instantly said, jolting your hands out to stop her from taking another step. “Please don’t say anything. Mom please!” 
Your pleads were granted. She stayed still as she squinted at the window, sending a silent threat to Mr. Pronge.
“Fine,” she said. “But If I hear or even get the feeling, I’m going to rip his nutsack and his stupid smirk off of him.” 
“Wow,” you said with your eyes bulging out in shock.
“Sweetie, you’re too nice and a little bit–how can I put this?” she sarcastically questioned herself as she tilted her head to the side. “Oh yeah, you’re naive.” 
“I am not naive,” you muttered under your breath, offended. 
“Yes you are,” she said as she was walking out of the living room. “Now go to work!” 
You grabbed your bag from the couch and swung it over your shoulder. Your hand went on the doorknob, turning it to open the door. You peek your head out to see if you’re one and only was out there waiting for you. 
“He’s not there Sweet Pea!” Ari exclaimed. “You’re safe, you can come out!” 
“Thanks!” you yelled from the door, fully stepping out. You confidently walked over to your car, happy Mr. Pronge wasn’t outside to terrorize you. Your happiness was soon cut off when you saw a complete flat tire. 
“Dang it!” you cursed to yourself. You peered down at your watch, it was 6:41 A.M. You were trying to calculate how much time it would take to go on the bus and you heard the dreadful sound of boots hitting the road. 
“Oh no,” you internally whined. 
“Got a flat, Princess?” Mr. Pronge sarcastically asked. “I’ll give you a ride.”
Ari quickly stepped in. “Robert no.” You didn’t even hear him walk over to you. You looked at Ari in shock and sent a cry for help at the same time. “Leave her alone.” 
“She needs a ride, I’m giving her a ride. What is the problem?” he challenged, taking a step closer to him. 
“You’re not taking her.” 
Robert straightened his back and puffed his chest out. “And why not?” 
“Because I’m taking her. She was just getting something from her car.” Ari grabbed your bag from your hand and placed his hand on your lower back. “Lets go Sweet Pea,” he said as he guided you to his car, opening the door for you and handing you back your bag. 
Robert stood in shock. Ari was taking you. And you let him. Though he couldn’t say he wasn’t impressed, he was just wondering how he did it. That lucky bastard. 
The inside of his truck was bigger than you ever imagined. It was dirty and there were oil stains everywhere you looked. Wrenches were scattered across the floor along with bolts and lug nuts. The only thing that was almost impeccable was the air freshener hanging off the rearview mirror but there were five oil stained fingerprints on it.
“Thank you for the ride Mr. Levinson, you didn’t have to take me. I could've taken the bus.” 
“Don’t even mention it Sweet Pea,” Ari said. “Plus I don’t think you wanted to ride with Rob now did you?” 
“No,” you answered as you shook your head. “He scares me.” 
“He scares you?” Ari repeated, barely shocked. 
“Mhm,” you confirmed with a small hum. “He’s really big and mean. Everyone says he’s the nicest to me and if that’s true I don’t want to see him when he’s mad.” 
“It’s true, he’s the nicest to you.” Ari found it weird when Robert wouldn’t constantly yell at you like he did with other people but he can see why. You’re the sweetest thing ever.
“Is that all?” 
“Mr. Pronge used to bring women and–and they would come out screaming and crying. It frightened me.” 
Robert used to bring women over all the time. They wouldn’t last for too long. They would run out of the house screaming all kinds of profanities after 3 weeks. You’ll never forget the moment a woman came to your house and asked if you had anything sharp. You gave her one of the knives from the kitchen. 5 minutes later the word asshole was embedded on the side of his car in big, bold letters. 
You’ll also never forget the time another woman came to your trailer. She screamed while she banged on the door like a madman. When you opened the door she had red hand prints on her body and a barely carved ‘R’ on her exposed hip. She asked you to hide her because he was coming. Sure enough a minute later Mr. Pronge came, demanding you to show him where she was hiding. Luckily your brother was there to kick him out.
He could see why you were scared. Hell even that scared him a couple of times. For some reason Ari didn’t like the thought of you being scared. Hell, he could barely deal with the fact how uncomfortable Mr. Pronge made you. 
When you approached the building Ari parked the car and exited out, lightly jogging over to your side and opening your door for you. He held out his hand to you to help you out of the truck, your hand delicately gripped his and he could feel the rush of dopamine releasing in his body. 
“Thank you again Mr. Levinson!” you beamed with a bright smile. You raised yourself on your tippy toes and slightly bounced to place a thank you kiss on his cheek. 
An unexplainable warmth rushed through him. The action was short and sweet but it made him feel weak in the knees. He would get cheek kisses from women quite a lot but it never felt like this. 
“Anytime Sweet Pea.” He felt himself staring at your eyes for a little bit too long. He forced himself to look anywhere else for a brief second, making sure you didn’t grow uncomfortable. “What time do you want me to pick you up?” 
“Oh it’s okay Mr. Levinson, I can take the bus or have my brother pick me up.” 
“Are you sure?” he asked you again. 
You nodded your head. “Thank you again! You’re a lifesaver.” 
“Don’t even mention it,” he waves off. 
You muttered a small goodbye to Mr. Levinson before taking off into the diner. He watched you go in with a small smile on his face.
 Even though this was your first real interaction, he knew he wasn’t going to get enough of you. You were the most adorable thing he’s ever seen. The whole way back he thought of you. You were like a deadly plague in his mind. A beautiful, rose scented, warm plague. 
Luckily your brother was able to pick you up after he got off of work. The next bus was going to come within another hour. When your brother picked you up, he was agitated. 
“What happened to your tire?” your older brother asked, not amused at all.
“I don’t know.” You shrugged your shoulders. “I went outside this morning and it had a flat.” 
“I helped Mr. Levinson changed the tire, it had 4 nails,” he said in a matter of fact one. “4.” he repeated as he held four fingers in the air. 
“I’m sorry,” you weakly apologized. 
“You need to pay more attention where you’re driving.”  
“I didn’t mean to drive over the nails. There weren’t even any when I drove yesterday!” you protested. “I only drove to the library which is 2 minutes away.” 
“So they magically appeared?” he sarcastically asked. “Just pay attention please.” 
“I will.” 
“You left your bus pass on the table this morning. How did you get to work? ” he questioned you. “Mr. Pronge didn’t take you, did he?” He turned to glance at you with a worried look. 
“No, Mr. Levinson did,” you told your brother.
“Did you make it on time?” He quickly glanced at you again, “because you are horrible at giving directions.” 
“Hey!” you barked at him. “I am not horrible at giving directions.” 
“Yes you are.” 
“Well lucky for me I didn’t even have to tell him, he already knew where to go,” you responded, “sure did save me the hassle.” 
“Did you thank him?” 
“Of course I did, I’m not rude,” you responded, half hurt he would think that of you. 
The rest of the ride was short but your brother took the remaining 4 minute drive to lecture you once again to pay attention. You tried to zone him out but he would snap at you, telling you to listen. You knew he did it to annoy you, it was simply too easy to annoy you. 
When you arrived at home, you jumped out of the car to look at the tire. Sure you had no idea what you were even looking at but it never hurt. You bent down to look at it and you noticed one thing. It wasn’t patched up like before. It was brand new. 
“Are you coming in?” your brother asked you. 
You turned to look at him. “Yeah, I just have to do something really quick.” 
“Don’t take too long, I’ll be done cooking in 10 minutes.” 
“I promise,” you told him before he went inside. 
You took out a sticky note, a pen and 50 dollars that took you 4 days to earn. You used the hood of your car as a desk and wrote a sweet but short thank you on the sticky note. Afterwards you walked over to his house and placed it under the surprisingly alive flower pot he had on his front porch. 
The both of you didn’t see each other for almost 2 days. You got overwhelmed with work that you barely were in the house. It wasn’t until Ari caught you late at the laundromat. 
“Sweet Pea?”
You turned around at the sound of your name. “Oh hi Mr. Levinson,” you greeted him with a huge smile. 
“What are you doing here so late?” he asked you though he could barely pay any attention to you at the moment. You wore a thin pastel pink cardigan with a pearly white nightgown that had a bow at the valley of your breasts.
“I forgot to do my laundry this morning and I didn’t have time so I came here after work,” you told him. 
“Isn’t it a little late to be working?” he questioned you. 
“I’ve been picking up other shifts at work,” you said, “it doesn’t help having the extra money.” 
“Speaking of money,” he began to say as he took out the fifty you gave him from his front pocket of his flannel, “you left this on my porch.” 
“Yeah it’s for you,” you innocently said, “I noticed the tire is brand new and I’m 90% sure my brother forgot to pay you.” 
“It’s your money, I’m not taking it. Here.” He passed the money back to you but you refused. 
“Keep it, you changed my tire and I’m paying you for your service.” 
“I really can’t—” 
“Please,” you begged him with puppy eyes. 
You pulled at his heartstrings. It agonized him, he didn’t want to take your money but he also didn’t want to make you sad. But he kept it anyway and stuffed it back into the front pocket of his flannel. 
“What are you doing here so late?” you asked him as you bent down and took out your now dry clothes. 
His eyes peered down for a quick second and he saw the nightgown riding up, revealing your baby blue panties. His throat went dry and he fought hard to keep his gaze up but it found itself looking back down. 
“I–I realized I forgot to wash my work clothes.” 
“I hate when that happens.” You came back up after you pulled out the last piece of clothing. “Then I’m stuck getting yelled at by the manager when I come in with the wrong clothes.” 
Ari chuckled to avoid an awkward silence. Really it was to refrain himself from stuttering or making a fool out of himself. In his head he wanted to compliment you and how pretty your nightgown was but the words wouldn’t leave the tip of his tongue. 
He took a deep breath before he spoke. “You look pretty in your nightgown,” he quickly muttered out. 
Your eyes lit up at his compliment. “Thank you Mr. Levinson. It’s pretty but I don’t think I’ll keep it.” 
“Why’s that?” 
“It always rides up and by morning it’s all the way up here,” you pointed to your upper stomach.
Oh what he would give to be a fly in the room in the morning. He quickly changed the conversation, it was obvious you were too oblivious to what you were doing to him. Your sweet voice and innocence were driving him insane but he loved it, he secretly wanted more. 
The both of you left the laundromat 40 minutes later. He insisted on carrying your basket for you. You both walked side by side. You were busy trying to keep up with him while he was busy looking down at your breasts. 
“Thank you for carrying my basket Mr. Levinson,” you thanked him as you took your basket from him when you got to your front porch.
“Anytime Sweet Pea.”
You kissed his cheek once again to seal your thank you. “Sweet dreams Mr. Levinson.”
“Sweet dreams honey,” he repeated to you. 
Ari was in a rush to get back to his trailer but a dear beloved friend was waiting for him. 
“Well would you look at that?” Robert sarcastically asked him. “She gave you a kiss on the cheek.” 
“Not now Robert,” Ari pleaded, dying to get back into his place. 
“What’s the big rush to get back home?” Robert crossed his arms as he smirked, “I see you’re sporting a hard on. Surely it can’t be because of her. Right?” 
“Oh shut your trap.” 
“It is, isn't it?!” he gawked. 
“No it’s not!” Ari protested. 
“Oh really?” Robert Challenged as he squinted his eyes.
“I was about to get lucky with Kim before she came into the laundromat and interrupted us,” Ari quickly lied. 
“So you waited for her to be done then walked her back?” Robert questioned Ari. 
“Of course I did,” he scoffed, “otherwise she would’ve ran into you. Not to mention she’s terrified of you, fuckin’ creep.” 
“Whatever. She wants me, I know it,” Robert boasted. 
“Yeah in jail.” 
Robert rolled his eyes and walked back to his trailer while Ari walked back into his. He immediately locked the door behind him and dropped the basket on the floor. 
“Oh thank god,” Ari hissed as he unzipped his painfully tight pants. 
His cock was rock hard and had been for the past 20 minutes. The pants barely gave him any friction and if anything, made it worse. He palmed himself through his boxers and moaned in relief. 
All he can think about is you in the short nightgown and how he’s never been this hard before. Sure he’s been turned on but it was nothing compared to this. It was like he was a horny spazzy teenager all over again. 
He freed his cock from his boxers and sharply inhaled at the impact of the cold air. The tip of his cock was bright red and oozing with precum. He used his thumb to spread his precum and use it as lube.  
His eyes screwed shut in bliss when he began pumping up and down. He tried to think of the porn he watched three days ago but instead you kept popping up. He imagined you being here with him, helping him out. 
“Does that hurt?” you ask him as you point to his angry, leaking cock. 
“It does Sweet Pea,” he rasped out. 
“Was it because of me?” you innocently ask him as you bat your lashes. 
“Yes,” he admits. 
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to,” you apologize to him. “Let me help you,” you tell him as you take his cock into your tiny, warm hand. 
“Oh Sweet Pea,” he moans out. 
“You’re s-so bi-big,” you sputter out, slowly pumping him up and down. “Does that feel better?”
He doesn’t have the strength to talk so instead he nods eagerly. “G-Go a little bit faster.”
You obey him and start pumping faster. His moans fill the room as he gets lost in the pleasure you’re giving him. Your hand is cramping but you don’t care, anything to make him feel good. 
“Sweet Pea, I-I’m about to cum,” he warns you. 
You get down on your knees while you still pump him. “Let it all go,” you seductively say as you open your mouth. 
Ari was brought back to reality when his high overtook him and he orgasmed. It was so intense his thighs started to shake. He continued pumping and pumping until he got too sensitive he had to stop.
He stood there with his cum dripping down his hand and secretly wishing you were there to help clean it all up. The realization had hit him hard, he needed you.
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mysteriouswolf · 2 months
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I'm going to start this off with saying it hurts. It fucking hurts. It hurts so, so much, and there's parts of me that still desperately want to look for a way out, to make him not the bad guy, but there isn't one.
Wilbur Soot is a fucking asshole. A piece of absolute trash, and it hurts. Because I've looked up to him for so many years now. He's been such an inspiration and comfort in my life, from dealing with issues I have myself, and giving me all the more reason to stay here. And now he's turned out to be like this. To anyone who's been following what I reblog about him, it's conflicting, because my thoughts seem to change by the minute. But I'm hoping in saying this I can clear my head and make a definite decision.
I will never be supporting Wilbur ever again. No matter how much better he gets, I don't care. What he did was unexcusable, and if you think otherwise, you can fuck off of my blog. His "apology" wasn't an apology, and for the most part all he did was defend himself. The responses from other content creators have pushed me to agree that yes, fuck Wilbur. He's an ass. I think I've stated this a couple times.
What he did to them, especially Niki and Tommy was inexcusable as well from what we know, and since Tommy is going on tour in about a week (if he's still going/up to it) PLEASE no one harass him with questions, or how he feels. Please, just leave him alone. I'm sure it's a lot to process for him too- even more than us.
I've seen some posts saying how we should be angry at other content creators for not speaking out sooner, but some of them have hinted at it/tried. And others haven't known enough, or didn't want to start causing something against him. The same reason Shelby didn't want to say his name. Maybe they couldn't. Please leave them alone.
The last thing I would like to say, is maybe controversial. If you disagree with me, I don't care, this is purely my opinion.
You can still enjoy his character. Your stories, your artwork, all that you've done with it. Don't feel bad about keeping it up, because that's yours now. You've worked so hard on it, and cared for that character so much that it's become far more yours than his. In regards to his music, I know his songs have provided a lot of us with comfort, including me. It's going to be really hard for me to stop listening to something I loved, but I'm going to make the effort- especially with his solo albums. Also, please don't harass the other members of Lovejoy. From what we know, they're lovely people, and if you're going to stop listening to them, great, do that, but don't harass them. Please. And if you do choose to listen to them, there's ways you can listen to music without supporting him- in my opinion covers are the best way to do that, but that one is up to you.
To wrap this up, I'd just like to say...please don't send death threats, or threats in general to anyone involved in this situation- including Wilbur. Leave them alone. Please.
This is subject to change if we get more information, but for now and the foreseeable future, this is my stance. I wish everyone hugs and comfort. This sucks. I'm sorry.
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jinnie-ret · 5 months
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FIC RECS
Ok so someone in my asks box asked me for some fic recommendations and I tried to add some gradually but my asks have been so weird recently so I've had to make a new post for them!
First of all ty anonnie you words were really sweet, I hope you stay healthy too!
Also just to preface I will list sfw and nsfw recs so pls if you are a minor, do not explore the nsfw recommendations, these blogs will most likely have a mdni statement so pls respect that and don't go against that :)
Now, enjoy!
SFW
Enough for you - @mixtape-racha (poly ot8 angst comfort)
We love an angst comfort fic and this is one of my faves. Take caution reading this one and read the content warnings at the top just in case! But this one is simply amazing and I wish I wrote it the end.
The Field Trip - @dreamescapeswriting (Seungmin X reader)
Seungmin and reader are teachers in this and if you follow me you may have seen me reblog this one before bc I love it and want this, also this blog has so many imagines you will be fed for days
Warm blankets - @jiniret-writings (3 parts, hurt comfort poly ot8 x reader)
I felt so emotionally invested in this story when I read it, like I felt readers pain 😭 gorgeous
jack-in-the-box -@junicai (angst, ninth member reader)
Set in kingdom. We hate mnet. Skz are very protective and reader gets the comfort she deserves in the end, love this sm!
@hyunjinsbelovedamericano - lots of headcanons and reaction type fics on their MASTERLIST, give it a look!!
Simptober 2023 - @skz-streamer
Fluff for days!!! pookie rly worked hard on this one so go and show some love because you've got so much to read here
Skz text aus - @channiesbakery
These are so so funny I cannot cope. Also explore the other fluff posts too bc they're really cute!
More text aus - @diddybok
Same goes for this blog too, explore their other stuff!
@hannahhbahng has some rly cute fluffy reads on their masterlist
@hanjiquokkaaa check out their skz reactions! My pookie slays every time
Skz fluff fics - @wooahaes
So much fluff to pick from! I fall in love every time!
Warm milk and honey - @horanghoe (poly skz x reader)
One of my fav skz comfort fics of all time, it's so so good, recommending again bc I should
In his arms, unexpectedly yours - @cheesemonky (Hyunjin x reader series)
This is a new series which I'm excited to see my pookie write !!!
@astraysimp for dad skz!!!
Nicholas Ross - @dean-a-mean-tae (skz ninth member male oc)
Love their ninth member writings so definitely check it out if you're looking for male!oc who is the ninth!
In my past, I find you and in the future, I still have you - @yangbbokari (Chan x reader)
Heartbreaking, like so angsty but it's gorgeous gorgeous gorgeous
Princess treatment with SKZ - @j-oneproduces
Each individual member x reader has a drabble and I love it so so much, very accurate imo
@skzoologist read their imagines on their ninth member oc Bae! They also have a fic called unfamiliarity using the same oc :)
I like the view - @mirisss (hybrid ot8 skz X reader)
I rly need to reread this one because I loved what I read so far on it!!!
NSFW
Rabbit hybrid reader - @authorofdanger (hybrid skz x hybrid reader)
I've linked a masterlist, I'd recommend the fic dominance and then the first few fics which are to do with reader as a rabbit hybrid! slight warning that woojin is mentioned
Red Moon - @lixiepeach (omegaverse series)
this is one of the first skz omegaverse fics I read and it is done so beautifully, as it says in the description of the series, it deals with more adult content than just smut, and the way it is explored is written so well, couldn't recommend highly enough!
Inked Petals and Message Tones - @leviackermanscleaningbuddy (poly smau with real life)
this is an ao3 skz fic which changed my life. I can't explain how much I love this, it had me on an emotional rollercoaster fr fr like it's amazing!
n.h.i.e mini series - @hyungszn (smut ot8 x reader)
damn this one really has me on my toes like the chapters are chefs kiss and it's such a good read!
Bold - @hyunsvngs (American footballer minsung x reader)
Wow wow wee wow. This one made my brain go brrr and evaporate and melt and wow the storyline in it is so so good too. Juno rly has such a good relationship with anonnies and moots and it's so lovely to see. A jupiter stan right here!!
Sanguis Limerence - @jl-micasea-fics (vampire skz x reader)
This is one of the first series I was fully committed to reading on this all and constantly checking. It's insanely amazing, I can't put it into words and now I wanna read it all back again 😭
waiting for us - @kkami-writes (smau poly ot8 X reader)
I'm in love with this!!! Perhaps my fav skz smau like the character development as well is really nice to see and it's an easy read if you find it easier to read it in text messages form
Anger management - @2chopsticks2eyes (minsung x reader)
This is so hot and the way the storyline progresses as well is beautiful
@1-800-shedevil I'm in awe of her and her blog. Gorgeous writer, gorgeous writing. Her posts about body positivity rly are so helpful and her words are so comforting
Sharing = caring - @cbini (ot8 X reader)
This is unbelievably good and if you haven't seen it yet? Do you even Tumblr? Love how ems has such a good relationship with moots and in answering asks too! cbinian for life
Better than revenge - @lixie-phoria (smau Jeongin x reader)
I'm so obsessed with this series so far, putting it here bc there's smut to be added in the future. But I'm in love with it so far wow!!!
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