#the number of good days are slowly catching up to the number of bad days

[dcxdpdabbles]

Based on this post here https://www.tumblr.com/ourrechte-blog/740959709140484096

Danny and the latest incarnation of the Demons ends up in Star City. They're doing ninja stuff as a way to get resources and find a way home. Green Arrow overhears mentions of "Great One" and "Demon's Head" and maybe Dani is there and gets called dahlia and it's misheard as Talia

Ollie: Batman, come over here and get your de-aged villains

Bruce: What makes you so sure they're mine?

Ollie: They're ninjas and their leader, who kicked my ass, is referred to as "Great One" so yes, I'm sure these are the League of Assassins under an alias. Or clones

Ra's finds this entire thing hilarious. Damian, not so much

Oliver is not having a good time. He noticed some shady activity going down in his city's underbelly and decided to investigate. Star City wasn't as crime-infested as Gotham, but it wasn't sunshine and rainbows either.

It was far better hidden, but corruption ran amok in his home, so he had to run around to get things fair. He noticed the ninjas only after a while of them being in town. At first, they seemed focused on gaining territory.

They moved from the poorest neighborhoods to the richest, slowly beating out the top dogs. It seemed the leader had the same mentality of prison- beat the toughest person on his first day and become the new number one. Usually, that wouldn't work with such solid and old operations, but somehow, the ninjas were doing it.

They cut off resources. It causes discord in the lackey's ranks. Pulled funding from who knows where. And Blackmailed the rest into submission.

It was a hostile takeover. A plague on the control of the criminal empires station in Star City.

And there was nothing Oliver could do to stop them. He felt like a fumbling medic during a pandemic. Too many areas were affected before he could arrive, and too many loose ends were tied before he could gather enough information to know what they were trying to accomplish.

He contacted the Justice League when it became clear that it was too much for his team to handle. They sent over Dinah Lace and Gregory Sanders (Much to the joy of his bi-heart), who helped him trace the pathway the ninjas were taking, but ultimately, they were unable to catch up.

"It's like chasing ghosts," Gregory complains, his red bandana moving with his mouth. His eyes are scanning the towering buildings, fiddling with his guns. "I see them for only a second, and they are much faster than any of my bullets."

"It doesn't help that one of them is a meta with a similar power to mine," Dinah agrees. She was the closest to the taller figure, attempting to use her Canary Cry to capture him. Imagine her surprise when the figure turned and returned a cry of its own, easily overpowering Dinah's and flinging her away. "We might need a Speedster"

"And a Bat," Olver sighs. "They're far too slippery. A Bat should be able to devise a plan that might work for them. My tactical strategies are falling short."

"How painful was that for you to admit?" Dinah asks with a smirk.

"I'm choking on my blood," He deadpans, causing her to laugh. At once, Olover's heart launches in his chest. She has the loveliest laugh. He throws her a smile that he knows is disgustingly gooey, and her eyes crinkle with the gentleness she reserves for him.

"I overheard them speaking for a bit before one of them heard my guns click," Gregory says, eyeing the two of them like he knows they are flirting but won't point it out. He's a spoilsport. "One of them identified the other. Does the name Talia mean anything to ya'll?"

Crude. Whatever good mood Olvier was in for making Dinah smile is crushed with sudden dread.

"Yeah, it does. Especially if it was anywhere near the words "Demon Head" or "Great One," He wearily. At Gregory's nod, he covers his eyes with one hand, feeling a headache build behind his right eye. It's a familiar headache. It usually pops up whenever Bruce Wayne's love life is mentioned.

"I'll call the Big Bad Bat. He'll get her to stop or kiss her. Whatever works. " Oliver sighs, even heavier than before.

"Why?" Gregory asks mystified

"That's Bat's ex."

There is a very long pause before Gregory's guns click again. A rigid set to his shoulders and rage appear in his eyes. "The young girl is Batman's ex? Good to know."

"Young girl? No, Talia is about my age." Dinah cuts in. "Are you sure she answered to Talia?"

The safety is switched back on as Gregory relaxes."Yes. She appeared to be twelve years old or so, with white hair and green eyes. Does that match Batman's honey?"

"Not even close. I mean, the green eyes, sure, but the rest is wrong." Oliver hums. "So we aren't dealing with Bat's girl, which is good for us. The League of Assassins is a pain. Also very dangerous."

Vigilante's eyes widen at the mention of the ninja group's name. "I heard of the organization but was unaware of the members. Is this Talia important in it?"

"She's the big boss's daughter," Dinah confirms. "Also, one of the bloodthirsty and cruelest members."

"That's not very nice," a young voice cuts in, startling the heroes. They leap away from the roof edge, watching a boy with glowing white hair flout over it, crossed-armed. "My daughter is a goddam delight."

"Ra's," Olver shutters. Yes, he looks younger and glowing, but Oliver would never forget that monster's face. He appeared often in his nightmares about the island.

The boy tilted his head. "You know me."

Oliver pulled the string of his bow, training the arrow on the figure; beside him, Gregory had his guns up and ready while Dinah had planted her feet in her preferred combat position. "I never forget a face."

"There is a version of me here," the boy hums, implying so many things that make the three heroes uneasy. "Maybe I wasted time gathering resources when I should have gone looking for the other Fentons."

"What do you mean by that?" Dinah demands, but the boy is already looking away and snapping his fingers.

"Guys! There are other Fentons here!"

Five figures fly up from over a building. Two are glowing, and three are wearing bulky power suits. Oliver's breath catches in his throat. Younger versions of the Demons. The same assisans whose abilities build Ra's empire and are the only ones to control them- the reason he is known as the Demon Head.

"That's great, Danny!" A girl with orange hair cries. She's inside the power suit, and Oliver knows her by her codename. Claw.

"Maybe we can have your dad make us some fudge." A dark-skinned boy licks his lips. He also appropriates a power suit but seems far more decked out for support. Makes sense, seeing as he obviously Scales.

"Let's go. The faster we get home, the faster I can make Vlad by me an island." A glowing teen rolls his eyes. His flaming hair does nothing to take away the fact he is Fang.

"Which way?" the little girl, Talia, asks, making a small circle in the air.

"I saw we find destruction and follow that. It's bound to lead us to them. We can cause chaos on the way." The last girl offers. She points the hand of her supersuit to the west with a nasty grin. It's Shadow. "Can't be worse than the Black Plague incident."

"How was I supposed to know the rats were dangerous!" Ra scoffs, face red in embarrassment. Which would have been amusing if he didn't just admit he caused thousands of lives to end. Oliver really does not like the implications one bit.

"Everyone. Don't you read any history books?"

"I don't need no books to tell me. I was there!"

Oliver thinks they are distracted enough to risk taking a shot. His bowstring snaps into place as his arrow flies towards the closest one. Claw's reaction time is as fast as he remembers because she had already shot the arrow out of the sky before it could go anywhere near Talia. The foam meant to hold her in place burst, covering the six from view.

Gegory's bullets hit it seconds after, burying deep within the hardened foam. The sharpshooter springs to the right, looking for a better target, but it's in vain.

When the foam falls, everyone behind it is gone, and Oliver is reminded that they face ninjas. Gregory lowers his weapon with a frustrated click of his tongue.

What in the world was going on! They were all de-age and somehow powered up. None of this was good.

"We need to call Batman," Dinah says in the silence. "This may be out of our league even with them turned into children."

#dcxdpdabbles #dcxdp crossover #Demon Head slightly to the Left #Part 1 #oliver Queen is not having a good day #Danny Dan Dani Jazz Tucker and Sam are in a different dimension #Danny is Ra's #I love Gregory Sanders when I watched Justice Leauge unlimited #I want him back #Morally grey Danny and Co.

[rainydayathogwarts]

Curtain call - Spencer Reid

Summary: You're an actress. Opening night of the show, a cast member is killed. FBI finds out you were the real target... Warnings: mentions of blood, a kiss 2k wc

Adrenaline rushes through you as you run through the wings, catching your breath as you made your way across the backstage. You had just about a minute until you had to be on stage once more, the big number now coming to its end. Rushing into the costume room, you barely acknowledge the one thing obviously wrong with the messy space until you reach for your next costume on the rack, moving all other clothes aside to find it. There’s something inappropriate about your outfit. One, there isn’t supposed to be any blood on it yet there it is, a bloody handprint, running all the way to the bottom of your dress. That’s when your eyes trail down to the bottom of the clothing rack, where you get a clear look of the body lying underneath the row of clothes. Blood was soaking through her entire costume and her skin was turning blue. It’s only when someone runs into the changing room at risk of missing your cue that you hear a gut-wrenching scream. Later, you’d be told that it had come from you. 

Being called into the theatre the next day for “mandatory debriefing” was not what you had expected after such a traumatic experience, but you came in nonetheless, afraid of losing the job after the scene you had caused the night before. After screaming bloody-murder, half the cast ran into the changing rooms to find you hysterically crying over your cast mate’s body, holding her cold hand. The audience had been scared half to death, and after the authorities made it onto the scene, everyone was evacuated out of the theatre. By finding her body, you had cost everyone a night of the show. 

But once you got to the theatre, angry yellow tape cutting off access to the public, you were approached by a handsome man with a serious face and confident posture, offering you his hand even as he walked towards you. “Miss L/N? It’s nice to meet you, I’m Agent Morgan with the FBI, and this is Dr. Reid. We just have a few questions we would like you to answer for us.” Agent Morgan had been a very kind man, who told you every formality that was written in the book, however the man he had introduced to you as Dr. Reid caught your attention in a way you weren’t aware would be good or bad. Dr. Reid stayed silent as Agent Morgan questioned you, deeply staring at you as you answered all that was thrown at you, shooting you quizzical looks every now and then and glancing down at your fidgety hands. 

“Thank you so much for all this Miss L/N, that’s all our questions.” As Agent Morgan began to stand, Dr. Reid looked up at you, “Actually, I do have a few more if you don’t mind.” Agent Morgan shot his partner a confused look, slowly backing down into his seat once more. “Do you know why Evelyn was in the costume room when she was? With my limited understanding of the play, I was under the impression that her character didn’t have any costume changes up to the point you had gotten to before she was killed.” And then those that followed:

“Was anyone other than you supposed to be in the changing rooms at that moment?”

“Is there anyone in the cast who has taken a specific liking or dislike towards you?” 

“Can you remember any specific encounters with anyone as you were going in or out of the theatre?”

“Have you received any eye catching letters from fans recently?” 

Finally, Dr. Reid’s prying had gotten you somewhere, leaving you more terrified than ever, with Agent Morgan reassuring you “It’s just a theory that Dr. Reid has, so we’re only taking precaution. There’s nothing to worry about just yet.” The two agents drove you back to your place where you led them to the curse fan-letter drawer in your study. "I don't usually read them because there are so many." You admitted, crossing your arms tightly over your torso, observing as the doctor starting frantically pulling letters out of the tidied drawer, eyes briefly scanning the name on the front of each envelope. He threw several to the side, dropping the rest onto the floor after reading the name until nearly ten minutes later, all the letters laid on the floor.

Dr. Reid scrambled to gather the letters he had tossed to the side, standing up hurriedly. You stared at the pile in his hands, glancing back up at the two men for an explanation. "These are all sent from the same person. I'd like to read them and see if analyse the language used. I think one of us should stay here with you for the mean time." You nodded at Dr. Reid's words, briefly looking over to his partner for confirmation. "I think Reid should stay here as he looks over the letters." He moved his attention from you to Dr. Reid "You can ask her any questions you might have and it'll be good protection." The partners nodded to each other and immediately, Agent Morgan exited the room.

Dr. Reid's hand came up before hesitantly placing it on your shoulder. "Do you mind if I get settled here? Ask some questions?" You shook your head silently before asking "Um, since you'll be here awhile, can I get you something? Coffee?" Dr. Reid nodded, muttering a quiet "That would be lovely." You don't know what it was: maybe the fact that he was here to protect to or trying to save your life, but felt your heart beat in your chest aggressively, as though trying to break through your skin. You brought him coffee, sugar and packets of cream on the side just in case and watched in awe as he emptied out the small cup of sugar. Sweet, just like him.

"Dr. Reid-" "Spencer. Please." You nodded, scooting your chair closer to him as he took a sip of coffee. "Did I make a mistake by not reading these?" The envelopes made loud unfolding noises every time he pulled a letter out of a different one, and he shook his head. "No. I know I wouldn't open so many of these and I have an IQ of 187." You grinned, your chest bubbling with a giggle. Spencer perked up at the sound of your laughter, smiling gently at you. He wasn't trying to joke around, but he was happy to lift up your mood. He studied all the letters laid out in front of him, and immediately noticed a pattern.

'02.02.18, I saw you in Oliver! today, you make an amazing Nancy.'

'14.02.18, I watched you in Oliver! again. You somehow get better the more I see you on stage.'

'07.03.18 I loved you today in the show. I watched the evening show. Did you see me too?'

'17.03.18 I saw your show again. I can be your Bill Sykes if you'd let me."

'11.04.18 I've been waiting anxiously to see you again since Oliver stopped touring. You make a wonderful Veronica.'

'15.04.18 We can be Seventeen together! Let me be your JD.'

"This isn't good." Without any further explanation, he pulled his phone out, dialling a number. "He's using obsessive language and saw her in Oliver! and Heathers, both of which have abusive partners who either kill or try to kill who Y/N's playing. You need to go visit his address right now." Coincidentally, just as he hangs up the phone, your doorbell rings. Your blood runs cold and you stand up instantly, but Spencer steps in front of you, blocking you from going anywhere. "Stay behind me, but stay close." He mutters, pulling his gun from his hostler. Spencer watches you closely, and the profiler in him notices how your breath begins to speed up and your eyes glaze with tears.

One of his hands comes up to cup your cheek and he whispers "Breathe. I'm right here so no one's going to hurt you, okay?" You nod, staying as close as you can to him without touching him until you get to the front door. He peeks through the peephole and his shoulders drop as an "Oh." Escapes him. He opens and closes the door faster than you can register, now holding another letter in his hand, identical to all the ones scattered on your desk.

Six words are written on the letter when Spencer opens him, and his face pales. It was meant to be you. Spencer grabs your hand, dragging you back into your study - the one room in your house with no windows. He locks the door, pressing numbers on his phone again before it's against his ear. "It's definitely him, he just sent another letter. We're in her study but he might be around the premises or returning to his house. I don't plan on getting her out of the study until you get him." The second the words leave his mouth you're processing them, and tears are welling in your eyes once more.

The sound of sniffling gets his attention back to you and his hands are gently coming up to your shoulders, leading you to sit down in a chair. "I'm scared." You whisper helplessly, looking up at the doctor. He crouches down to your level, and hand on your knee. "Hey, what did I say before?" He looks at you intently waiting for an answer. "No one's gonna hurt me." Spencer nods, a soft smile gracing his features. "Yes, exactly. No one's going to hurt you. I have an excellent team looking for that son of a bitch as we speak and I am right here with you."

You nod, not entirely convinced, which he can apparently tell, so he continues with "Come on, look at these muscles. You think anyone will get to you when I have these babies?" His tongue pokes out slightly as he flexes his arms, which are actually more toned than you realise. You laugh again and feel yourself launching your body at him before you can stop yourself, pulling him into a tight hug. He hesitates, but eventually, his arms are pulling you even closer to him, one hand rubbing circles on your back to soothe you. You break the hug, but before you can help yourself, you realise you're leaning into him, pressing your lips against his in a passionate kiss. To your surprise he immediately returns the kiss, his hands cupping your face as he deepens the kiss.

He's panting when he pulls away from you, whispering "This is unprofessional. I'm sorry, I like you, I do, but I shouldn't." Cocking your head to the side, you can't help but smile slightly. "It's only unprofessional for one of us so technically it's not unprofessional at all." His face twists in confusion as he tries processing your words. "That's not how it wo-mmph." the rest of his words are muffled by the second kiss you give him, which you feel him melting into as one of his hands comes to rest on your hip. "After- after the case. After the case, I'll take you on a date." His face falls at his own words, his face reddening in embarrassment. "That is- I mean that's only if you want. I wouldn't take you on a date if you didn't want to, that's totally fine."

The door to the study slams open just as he finishes rambling and you scream in fear, tightly gripping Spencer's hand and turning around expecting to find a middle aged balding creep, only to find a much sexier bald man, putting his gun back in his hostler. "Did you not hear us screaming for you? We thought he might have gotten to you before we found him. Ms. L/N, you're safe, we found him." Agent Morgan's gaze slowly trails to where your hand tightly grips Spencer's, and when he sees the flush on Spencer's face he makes a "Huh" noise, before walking out of the room once more.

taglist: @ineedtosusoutmyreadinglist

#spencer reid x you #rainydayathogwarts #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid smut #dr spencer reid #doctor spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer x reader #criminal minds fanfic #criminalminds #criminal minds fics #criminal minds fic #criminal minds #derek morgan

[curioscurio]

Got up early (for me), ate a light and healthy breakfast, applied to some jobs, took a long mental health walk with the dogs, gave one of them a bath, and even did some phone calls and messaging regarding my medication and pharmacy problems and managed to sort it out without breaking down!!! And! Showered!! Kicking ASS at mental health today

#im studying myself like a bug. with no judgement or compulsive self hate when i see the results. and then doing something different based on #those results #and its working #ive noticed that im much more productive when i have someone else to help or listen to. its a little uh sad because im not easily able to #to take care of myself and do things for MYSELF. but if its for someone else then its like i gain momentum #going out to clean out MY car? well i dont care how gross it is im not worth the effort. #cleaning out my car for my brother who i drive to therapy every other week? fuck yes its going to be nice and clean because therapy is impo #rtant and i want to help you stick with it and so we make it not a chore but lighthearted sibling time #like do you get it #anyway slow progress is still progress #the number of good days are slowly catching up to the number of bad days #post beginning of the pandemic 2020 was so brutal on me. moving back in with my parents especially #but i have a plan now . a real one. and friends to help me as well ! #oops rambling in the tags haha #long tags

[chaepink]

DAY 12: OPEN YOUR MOUTH, PRETTY BOY | FINGER SUCKING & FOOT HUMPING

who knew that the nerd in your english class would be a virgin and that they would be so fun to corrupt?

⋆ ࣪. ❤︎ PAIRING ⸻ zenistsu agatsuma x reader

⋆ ࣪. ❤︎ WARNINGS ⸻ dom!fem!reader (but def could be read as gn), mean!reader, nerd!zenistsu, corruption kink, degradation, finger sucking, throat fucking-ish, oral fixation, college au, foot humping/grinding, porn WITH some plot, overall cringe writing my bad guys 😭 not really proofread

⋆ ࣪. ❤︎ WORDS ⸻ 1.7k words

⋆ ࣪. ❤︎ NOTE ⸻ beginning sucks but it gets better at the end i swear anyways its day 12 of kinktober! hows everyone feeling

KINKTOBER EVENT

You've seen the stares he's been giving you and they're not subtle at all. Rather it seems as if he wants you to find out that he's been looking at you from the way its so obvious.

With his collared shirt so neat and ironed straight, supplies on his desk organized by size and color, and just the way he's sitting so straight and ready to learn has you rolling your eyes.

The aura that just screams 'nerd' adorning him tells you exactly the type of person he is too.

You've seen him around campus a few times, usually at club meetings or in the library studying his ass off.

You catch him looking at you again during a class you two have, making you grimace as you whisper to your friends.

"Who's he?" You nod your head to him with furrowed eyes. Out of the corner of your eye, you see him look away from you, blushing.

"Oh him?" Your friends make a show of turning around to get a good look at him before turning around to you, to which you have to hold in a sarcastic remark about subtlety. "He's such a fucking freak isn't he?" Your friends giggle.

"Heard he's a virgin too, what a fucking loser." You raise an eyebrow. Now you didn't know that. "He is? Where did you hear that?" Your friend gives you an unimpressed look as if the answer is obvious.

"Look at him, who would want to fuck him? He's probably such a pervert too."

You turn your head around slightly to glance at him and notice him quickly looking away from you, his face turning red from being caught.

The bell suddenly rings and you tell your friends to not wait for you as you make your way to a certain yellow-haired guy. You add a little sway to your hips, pretending to not notice the small peeks he's taking at you or the way his face is turning redder the closer you get to him. You walk to him still taking down notes and place your hands in front of him, catching him off guard.

You hold back from rolling your eyes when you see him not so subtly glance at your body and how your clothes tightly hug your curves. He gulps when you let out a loud cough.

"Hey, name's..." You quickly glance at the name on the folder and return to his gaze with raised eyebrows. "Zenistsu, right?"

Slowly, he nods. You lean slightly towards him, shortening the gap between you two with a smile. "I heard you have good grades, is that right?"

You notice him swallow and play with his tie nervously.

"Y-Yeah, why?"

"I was wondering if you could tutor me on some subjects? I could really use the help since I've been having trouble with some work recently."

You notice his breath hitch. "Please?"

"Um s-sure. Should we do it in the library after school?"

Without answering, you steal his pencil to write your dorm number on one of his papers. "How about you just head to my room later? I don't have a roommate anyways."

He stares at the number with widened eyes but he hesitantly nods.

Now you just have to wait.

--

Hours later you're laying on your coach. The sound of pencil on paper and typing is in the background as you continue scrolling. Zenistsu turns around in your chair with furrowed eyebrows.

"S-Shouldn't I be teaching you how to do this-"

You scoff and send a glare towards him. "Shut up and just do the work. It's easy for you anyways, right?"

He nods and returns back to finishing your homework. He mentally slaps himself for being so stupid for thinking that something would happen when you asked him to come to your dorm. He quickly finishes the rest of the work before turning to you. You glance up from your phone.

"What? You're already done?" He nods. "Then leave."

You see Zenistsu freeze and raise a eyebrow. "What, do you want something in return?"

He shakes his head. "I-I just thought we were gonna…" He suddenly stops talking, realizing what he was going to say but you already know what the next words are gonna be, and giggle.

"Did you think we were gonna do something afterward?" He looks away in shame but nods. You sit on the edge of the sofa, now interested. "You thought we were gonna fuck or something as a reward for you doing my homework?"

Your blunt words make Zenistsu blush and he's quick to shake his head. "N-No I-I just..." You notice a bulge in his pants and laugh.

"Oh my god don't tell me you're actually hard right now." He quickly tries to cover his bulge there's no use, you already saw it.

He's so embarrassed that he could cry. First he thought you invited him over to hang out and now he's hard in front of you.

"Honestly," you say, dragging out the word to tease him.

"If you're really that desperate, go ahead and hump my foot then." He watches you place your foot out with a teasing grin and it only takes him a couple of seconds to think about it. With shaky steps, he walks towards you before sitting on his knees before you.

"Go on."

He gives your foot a experimental grind and he has to bite down on his tongue to hold back a moan. Though a voice in his head screams at him to take it slow and save him some embarrassment, he quickly gets addicted to the feeling and quickens his pace against you. Soon, he's panting heavily against your leg and you watch with amusement.

"How about you say thank you to me for letting you hump my foot, hm? Say thank you for letting me hump my dirty cock against your foot, [name]."

He flushes red with embarrassment but frantically nods. Thank you's begin flowing out of his mouth with your name added along with it.

"Thank you for l-letting me ah! hump my d-dirty cock against your foot, [name]!"

If anything, Zenistsu only speeds up his movements even more. He wouldn't ever think that the way you're so mean to him would turn him on or that he would actually enjoy but here he is: grinding against your foot like a bitch in heat as his sinful noises fill the room. Anyone could walk past your dorm and hear just how loud he's being but other more important thoughts fill his head, like the sudden need to cum.

"Fucking freak."

"s-shit fuck me!" You laugh, making him whine. "Oh you wish. A shoe hump is all you're gonna get from me. Though I bet you do want to fuck me, hm?" You tease, watching the way he shivers. The thought has his eyes rolling back. Just imagining being able to fuck you has his mind turning cloudy, his thoughts scrambling up.

His mouth drops open with a girlish scream when his orgasm hits him and it hits him hard. Your eyes stare at his mouth and the way drool escapes from the side. The growing wet patch on his underwear steals your attention and you watch as some leaks through the material, dripping onto the floor beneath him.

"You're so pathetic, Zenistsu."

Your fingers drop to the hem of his underwear before entering them, feeling the sticky mess where his dick is. You take your time scooping some on your fingers before taking them out, watching as the liquid drips down your fingers slowly and coats them.

You let out a disappointed tsk. "Look at the mess you made."

Zenistsu watches your every move and his heart begins to race when you look at him with something in your eyes that makes his breath hitch. He sees your eyes drop down to his mouth and he subconsciously licks his lips.

You grin at him. "Open your mouth, pretty boy." You say, moving the soiled fingers closer to his face.

Almost with no hesitation, you watch as he slowly opens his mouth, his tongue sticking out like a invitation for your fingers to enter. Hot breath fans them as they move closer to him.

The whine he lets out tells you exactly what he wants. He looks at you, awaiting your next move. He glances at your fingers with something in his eyes, almost like excitement.

When two of your fingers touch his tongue, his warm mouth immediately envelops them as he wraps his tongue around your digits. He shivers from both the taste of himself on his tongue and from the feeling of your fingers in his mouth, letting out a small whine.

You don't let him get used to the feeling as you begin to push them further in his mouth, making him let out a surprised moan.

You feel your fingers hit the back of his throat, making Zenistsu gag around him. Tears appear at the corner of his eyes and you coo at him.

"Are you gonna cry, Zenistsu? Is the feeling of my fingers down your throat too much?" He gulps at your words but shakes his head.

He begins bobbing his head with your fingers, letting out a noise each time they hit the back of his throat. You feel his tongue suck on them.

The sight is so lewd that it leaves you breathless. His drool drips down your hand and his eyes roll back as he chokes on your fingers. He has a hand on your wrist but he makes no move to stop you. Instead, he pushes your fingers in more with a choked moan. He stares up at you with hooded eyes.

You shove another finger in his mouth and Zenistsu is quick to cover it in his spit.

"Shit, I wonder what everyone would think if they heard how much of a whore you actually are."

Zenistsu can only shake his head in denial, tears welling up even more. He tries to answer back but it comes out all muffled.

"Can't understand what you're saying if you got my fingers in your mouth, baby."

He whimpers around your fingers. You don't notice him beginning to grind against your foot again and he comes with a cry, dirtying his pants yet again.

You take your fingers out of his mouth and he falls against your legs, breath heavy and eyes closed. But you grab his hair and yank him back, staring straight into his eyes.

"Oh we're far from done, Zenistsu. I'm going to use you till you can't think anymore."

#chaepink.kinktober #dom!reader #dom reader #sub character #sub zenitsu #sub kny #sub!kny #sub!zenitsu #sub demon slayer #demon slayer zenitsu #kinktober 2023 #kinktober #dom fem reader #gn reader #kny fanfiction #kny smut #kny fanfic #kny x reader #kny #demon slayer #dom! reader #sub!character #x reader

[alexsoenomel]

Random Joel Miller Headcanons:

Joel was an early bird, always had been, so naturally he would wake up before you to make breakfast and coffee.

He liked taking care of you. He was a man of a few words; didn't say much, but his actions spoke louder than words.

He liked when you would play with his hair whenever he couldn't sleep and you liked the way his soft gray locks felt between your fingers.

He was not the one to tell you what to do, but he would sometimes get very protective, like a guard dog, to the point where he would forget you were in fact an adult. He would try to control you, tell you what you can and can't do, but it never worked with you. It would always end with you telling him to fuck off.

Joel loved teaching you how to play guitar. He loved watching you as you would get lost and bit your lower lip as you tried to play a simple note. He thought you were cute whenever you would get frustrated.

Bickering, lots and lots of bickering. He was twice your age and you enjoyed reminding him of that.

"Not bad for a man in his 70s," you told him once, panting and covered in sweat after multiple orgasms he gave you.

"I'm 56, dumbass," he told you, trying to catch his breath.

"Perv," you teased.

"Oh, fuck off."

He would wake up in the morning because of you, he would try to live and not just survive because of you. Everything he would now do, he would do it because of you.

You loved to snuggle with him, especially during winter, because that man was a walking, taking heather.

Music. He loved sharing his favorite songs with you. You loved how excited he would get, when you actually knew the song.

Showering together; the purest form of intimacy. You loved washing his hair and he loved washing yours. He loved feeling your body under his rough fingertips.

Night drives. You loved watching him drive and the silence of the night, so every once in a while you would go on a drive in the middle of the night, listening to music, eating junk food under the stars, or you would pull over to the side of the road and fuck. Handprints all over foggy windows were a regular occurrence.

Animalistic sex. He loved making you scream in pleasure to the point where you couldn't take it anymore. He loved making you his in every position, location and at any given time. Biting, sucking, scratching -- he loved everything. Age was just a number in his ID; that man fucked like he was in his 20s.

He loved hearing you whimper and fall apart under him. He loved the way you would forget everything but the sound of his name whenever he would fuck you.

Slow sensual sex. Even though he loved fucking you senseless he also loved making love to you. He loved worshipping every inch of your body, taking his sweet time, teasing you until you couldn't take it anymore. He loved the way you would look at him. He was aware how much he was loved by you, but still thought he didn't deserve it.

Kissing. That man loved to kiss. Your neck was his favorite spot. You loved to bite his lower lip, just to tease him, since he would always get hard from it. He loved the way you would play with his lip between your teeth.

"Stop biting me, we are in public."

"Make me."

The first time he told you he loved you was in the bedroom. His guard was down, he was pounding in and out of you slowly as you were digging your nails into his shoulder blades. He still had no idea why he said it, but there was something about you that day. You were completely lost in him, telling him how good he was, how handsome he looked and how he made you feel so so good. He couldn't help himself. He whispered a soft I love you into your ear before you came, moaning his name over and over. "I love you too, handsome," you told him before kissing him. He would never forget it.

Enjoy me being delulu y 'all. Still struggling to write and feeling like shit. Hopefully it will pass soon, it's quite annoying.

#I AM BACK #WELL KINDA #I cannot write for the love of god but I AM TRYING #This is me being delulu #I miss Joel #joel fluff #daddy joel #joel miller smut #joel tlou #joel x reader #joel miller imagine #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader fluff #joel miller x reader smut #joel miller x y/n #joel miller headcanon #the last of us #the last of us drabble #the last of us smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller drabble #joel miller tlou

[eightmakesonebraincell]

i have a little request! what happens with mafia mingi & yn? do they ever meet again? if so, how?

same with wooyoung! do they still meet at the convenience store every night? did he bring the others over to introduce reader to them?

oh im curious yeahhhhh

ateez as mafia members pt 2

original post here

pairing: mafia!mingi x reader, mafia!wooyoung x reader, mentions of ot8!mafia

genre: fluff, crack, a continuation of the mafia tropes brainrot-fest

length: 2.1k

c/w: explicit language, violence, weapons, mentions of alcohol, unedited

a/n: thank you anon for requesting (and special thanks @sorryimananti-romantic for validating my writing 🫶) this was only meant to be like a five dot-point thing explaining what happens, but obviously mafia!ateez has me in their chokehold. mafia!ateez in my brain: it's free real estate

mingi

it takes a few days for you to reopen your bar after your fateful meeting with ccg

ccg as in cute coat guy

because quite frankly, that night shook you up a little

mingi most definitely notices your absence

but it's not like he can just check up on how you're doing

not when your bar is closed and he has no real excuse to show up apart from "i was worried about you"

after he reports back to base and rejoins ateez, hongjoong's girlfriend offers to hack into the database and find out what your phone number is

("it'll literally take me like, two seconds")

mingi refuses though because he wants to do things the right way

at least...when it comes to things concerning you

after you reassure yourself that the thugs chasing after cute coat guy aren't going to kill you by association, you feel safe enough to open up the mist again

his leather coat usually sits draped over your chair behind the countertop

originally, you think about washing it before returning it to him

...whenever he shows up you suppose

but then you kind of like the smokey smell of gunpowder with an underlying hint of his cologne that is on the coat

so you leave it as it is

in fact, you might have actually worn it a couple of times

you like how the end of the coat brushes against your calves, how the sleeves fall past your fingertips, how it engulfs your entire frame like an embrace

but mostly, you like how it reminds you of the handsome stranger; who claims he is a good bad guy; who you still do not know the name of

you wonder if he made it back safely that night

you're wearing the coat as you're closing up for the night - it's already well past midnight

you're just about to reach for the last glass on one of the tables when you hear the door to your bar opening

"sorry, i’m closed for the nigh- oh," you pause

it’s ccg

who currently has one leg and arm halfway through the threshold of your door, now frozen mid-step at your words

“if now’s not a good time, i can come back another day?” he starts out hesitantly

“now’s great! good. yes,” you chuckle nervously and try not to be too enthusiastic at his appearance. “now’s good, come in”

you catch his eyes briefly flicker down for a moment before they return to your eyes

then he gives you a soft look and greets you gently, “hi”

“hi,” you return, brain shutting down on you

“you look cute in that,” he jerks his chin down slightly to motion at what he was looking at just moments ago

his leather coat

that you are currently wearing

you squeak in embarrassment, hands fumbling to take it off while you vomit out explanations as to why you’re wearing it

your fingers get caught up in the sleeves

but then he is stepping closer slowly so as not to alarm you, before he grasps the ends of the sleeves and helps tug them off your arms

mingi can’t help but use the opportunity to tenderly hold one of your hands

he’s missed the way your smaller hands fit snugly in his

“did you come back for your coat?” you try to break the silence, because otherwise you are afraid he will hear the heartbeats coming from inside your chest

he nods, “wanted to make sure you were okay, too”

there is a third reason that he does not say

that he just wanted to see you

“i’m okay now,” you reassure him

because he’s back now and he’s safe

he folds the leather coat and places it on the countertop before he says, “i don’t think i ever got your name?”

you tell him then ask him for his

“mingi”

“mingi,” you repeat

he repeats your name in return

“mingi,” you say yet again

“y/n”

you both laugh at the ridiculousness of the whole conversation

“mingi, want to help me close the bar?”

and so you find yourself in his company as you give him easy tasks to do

closing up has always been a tedious job, especially when your body and mind are groggy with fatigue

but with mingi around, an accidental brush whenever you shuffle past each other, a conversation easily flowing between you both, you are awake as ever

even long after all the tables and shot glasses have been cleaned and polished, floors swept, bottles of alcohol reorganised, mingi still has not left

and at some point during the night once you two sit at the countertop to rest your legs, both of you have subconsciously inched closer together in your seats, bodies seeking the warmth and proximity of the other

you are unsure how long you two talk for

but just like that first, fateful meeting with mingi, he stands up to take his leave all too soon

“goodnight, mingi”

mingi buffers for a minute before he decides to do it

he reaches out for your hand, clasping it gently to bring it up to his lips as he presses a light kiss against the back of your hand

and with a goodbye of his own, he turns for the door

except he lingers in the doorway, asking, “will i see you again?”

a smile graces your lips at the irony of the situation and you tell him it's not like you'll be going anywhere; he's free to come visit any time

but you also feel your stomach flutter

because last time, you were the one tugging on mingi’s vest, timidly wondering if that was going to be the last you saw of him

tonight, he is the one unwilling to part ways

not to say that you aren’t either

“i’ll see you around, then,” he says with finality, voice still soft-spoken

and then he leaves

but just mere seconds later you spot it

his leather coat

still folded on your counter where he had placed it earlier

"wait, your coat!" you rush outside with it

mingi is only a few feet away

he could very easily turn around and take it from you

but then he just winks, gives you a tip of his hat and says, "next time," before he's walking away again

you chew on the inside of your cheek to stop the silly grin from blooming across your face

because something tells you that you're going to be hanging on to mingi's coat for him for a while

even after next time

wooyoung

it feels like deja vu

a whole gang of mafia members sauntering into your convenience store like a scene straight out of a movie

admittedly, they are much more pleasing to the eye than the group that was chasing after wooyoung weeks ago

but still

these are several muscular men in tank tops, leather jackets and heavy chained necklaces

your hand itches for the comforting weight of the pepper spray in your purse that wooyoung had gotten you just last week

you haven't had a reason to need it since wooyoung basically lives in your store now

and he always walks you home after your shift

but now seems like a more than good enough time to use it

"you usually work the night shift here?"

a voice causes your eyes to snap up

the man at the head of the group addresses you with a quirk of his brow - it's pierced, you notice

"...yeah," you answer

you wonder if this is your last shift at work and at life

and then just like a repeat of last time, you spot wooyoung's frantic bounce of curls appear from across the street of your store

you pray to the heavens above that he isn't being chased by anyone else this time

because the thought of two gangs crossing paths inside your modest store?

you don't think it's going to look like a store after their fight is through

you see the way wooyoung's eyes widen when he spots the thugs just mere feet away from you and you see a curse form on his lips

you just need to hold out until he gets here

wooyoung will keep you safe

wooyoung will-

"then you must know," the man leans in a little closer to grab your attention, "where i can find-"

wooyoung bursts through the door

"-the super sour gummy worms?" the man finishes

you physically cannot help the words that blurt out of you in disbelief, "the fuck you just say?" 

"hongjoong!" wooyoung's piercing shout interrupts you both

wooyoung worms his way through the gang and you stare incredulously at him before you say, "the fuck did you just say?"

he ignores you in favour of pressing his hands against the chest of the man - hongjoong? - and trying to push him towards the doors of your store

quite unsuccessfully, you must add

"the fuck are you guys doing here?" wooyoung yells

"what the fuck is going on?" you demand

"holy fuck, not even hongjoong swears this much"

"fuck yeah, potty mouth!"

"stop swearing you fucktards!"

one of the men who has been lingering on the edge of the group sidles up to the counter, looking at you with an apologetic grimace

"sorry you have to deal with...this," he shakes his head just as another man comes to join you both, "i'm jongho, by the way"

"seonghwa," the other man introduces himself with a gentle voice

these mafia men are surprisingly kind

and normal

except, you suppose, anyone in comparison to wooyoung would be normal

"are you all wooyoung's, uhh, friends?" you don't know whether they know you know

they chuckle, "yeah, we're his friends. his brothers, too, you could say"

you realise the rest of the men have started to settle down and are standing in a rough semi-circle around your counter

wooyoung is currently grumbling and muttering indignantly under his breath with someone's arm thrown over his shoulders, though it looks more like he's a child being scolded by his father than it looks a friendly gesture

"so to what do i owe the pleasure of a visit from all of you?" you ask them, now that there is no swearing being thrown across the room and you realise they aren’t going to shoot you through the head

"had to see for ourselves who was making our wooyoung all smitten. always sneaking out at night like a tween"

"yunho!" wooyoung hisses and elbows said man in the ribs

except with the height difference, it's more like his hips

it's amusing to see how everyone has the upper hand over wooyoung's brattiness

"am i meeting the in-laws already?" you smirk at wooyoung, "you like me or something, jung wooyoung?"

he flushes bright red and you're quite positive that if you made him take his socks off, you would find him blushing straight down to his toes

"that's it!" he hollers, arms flailing and shooing everyone, "out! out! out!"

you know they can easily resist his pushy hands, but they simply snicker and let themselves be herded towards the doors

"bye, darling!" someone jumps up and down to catch your gaze over the heads of everyone else

"shut up, san!"

yunho, you think you recall his name being, flutters his fingers at you cheekily, "we'll be back soon!"

and then he lets out an indignant yelp when wooyoung slaps his back with a screech, "no, you guys won't!"

you're laughing heartily by this point, unrestrained and very much enjoying their antics

"bye, everyone," you wave them off and then blow wooyoung an exaggerated kiss, "see you later, wooyoungie!"

everyone cackles with glee at the sight of him trying to dig himself into the ground

the sound of their ruckus finally dies down as they exit and walk further away from your store

and then you hear a distant wail

"i didn't get my gummy worms!"

you shake your head with a fond smile and take a seat at the register, but not before setting aside a pack of those ‘super sour gummy worms’ for hongjoong

and then, like always, you look at the clock and count the seconds as they tick past

counting down the seconds until wooyoung comes back to see you

again

#loren writes #loren answers #my lil anons <3 #ateez fic #ateez fics #ateez x reader #mingi x reader #mingi fluff #wooyoung x reader #wooyoung fluff #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez reactions #ateez headcanons #ateez au #mafia ateez #ateez fluff #ateez crack

[xxsidneywritesxx]

Hcs for Hashira men confessing!

Includes Tengen, Tomioka, Sanemi, Rengoku, Gyomei, and Muichiro

Warnings: Minor swearing! Minors MAY interact with this post, but hopefully only for Muichiro being as he is a minor <3 Reader is set as a female for these hcs!

This man already has three wives...he's pretty dang experienced in romance.

You're a hashira at the same time he is, and he admires how you dress. Your hair is also quite "flashy" to him.

"Hey, Y/n...looking flamboyant today. Nice."

"Oh....thanks Tenge-"

"No problem!"

If you have long hair, there's a chance he might want to style it for you. He's not a braiding expert like Kanroji, but he has three wives, so he's gotta know some good stuff in that department, right?

He admires you from afar for a bit before wanting to go on missions with you and hang out.

He'll go to his wives for help, and when he says you could possibly become love interest number four, instead of being jealous, they're ecstatic because they like you too.

So they scheme up a plan .

While you're out on a mission, Hinatsuru takes a...rather large rock, shoving it out in front of you while you were chatting with Tengen.

You're clumsy here so you don't notice it.

You trip, about to hit the ground WHEN

Ninja man catches you HAHA! He thinks he's so flashy and brags about it after that. He confessed to you while holding you.

"Y/n...can I be real with you?"

"Sure, but can you put me down first?"

"I...love you, Y/n, and so do my wives."

Your heartbeat pulses fast, and you smile. "I love you guys too...now put me down."

"No."

Giyu is stoic, quiet around the other pillars.

This doesn't change when you enter the scene...as his tsuguko. You're not much younger than him, maybe a year, tops.

While he does help you train, he keeps that same demeanor at the beginning of your mentorship.

He even has to get close to you to help you swing your sword at times, which for some damn reason...

It makes your heart beat fast??

No, there's no way you could-

Oh, yes there is.

After a few months or so of training with Tomioka, he seems to lighten up with you. He'll talk more frequently, asking you how your day was and what you were up to.

You'll definitely notice that he's warmer. But when out with the other hashira, his demeanor goes back to silence and staring.

You get curious, so you set him down and ask about it.

"Tomioka, what's been up with you? I mean, the changes aren't bad, but I wanna know why you've been acting so...social? Lately?"

He's blankly staring at you, looking at the floor, his haori, and then back at you.

"I thought you'd like it...if I talked more...because...I like you, I guess."

Hah. Awkward boi let's be honest.

You're another hashira in this hc.

You're very bubbly and talkative, kind of like Mitsuri. Of course, in the beginning, Shinazugawa Sanemi finds this annoying.

He'll shoo you away with every chance he gets.

It's only when you stop by his estate with a plate of ohagi for his birthday that his opinion of you slowly begins to shift.

You're still annoying as fuck in his eyes...but maybe you were tolerable?

It would take a few days of him ignoring you for you to storm into his estate, grab him by the collar, and scream at him.

Jk jk he'd fucking kill you

You'd actually walk into his estate and demand to hear what's up with him.

He'd attempt shooing you of course, but you're not gonna take no for an answer, are ya?

Didn't think so.

That's when HE grabs YOU by the collar, shoves you against the wall, and tenderly presses a kiss to your lips. He couldn't find the words to confess to you, so he used his actions. And they worked, becaue you kissed back, caressing his white, fluffy hair softly.

Rengoku would be straightforward with his feelings. He won't push you away, or ignore you, to figure out his heart because he's so in sync with his feelings that he doesn't need a second opinion or thought.

You'd be just another slayer, part of the kamaboko squad with Tanjiro and his pals, but you're the eldest, being around 19.

He'd invite you to have a picnic with him, classic, right?

You'd obviously be honored...I mean, a hashira invited you to eat with him!! What an honor!!

Not to mention he's a cutie

You meet up with him, it's around 12pm, he's there earliy, you're a little late.

"Ah! Y/n! Good morning!"

"...it's noon-"

"I know !! Good afternoon!!"

*Facepalms*

He would talk to you about your missions, what you've been up to, and one more question...

" I know we sincerely just formally met !! But you are gorgeous !! Would you like to be my girlfriend ?!"

You'd chuckle, covering your blushing face. Of course you're gonna say yes.

We're gonna keep Himejima's short n' simple.

You are a hashira, and you first met him at a meeting with the master.

His strength impressed you, and your friendliness intrigued him.

You talked a lot, being as you were both quite strong and were only called on extremely high ranked missions.

You both fell in love and told each other you liked the other in his estate.

Also, a plus, hugs with him are ALWAYS comfy.

You're a minor. And so is he, so it fits !

He's younger than you, but if he ever hears the word 'seniority' come out of your mouth, best expect a cold-hearted scolding.

He confesses through his crow to you. He can't bring himself to do it in person.

He won't admit it but he fell head over heels. He'll just say he loves you. You know how he feels, though <3

{ Sorry Mui's and Gyomei's were short </3 I got a lil lazy- }

#sanemi x reader #muichiro x reader #tengen x reader #gyomei x reader #rengoku x reader #giyu x reader #fluff #headcanons #Sanemi's were my favorite hehe #I love him damn

[neet-elite]

Party For Two — (SDV) Sebastian

Pairing: Sebastian/ Reader Genre: Smut 18+ WC: 6,077 Warnings: Love confession, mutual masturbation, premature ejaculation, creampie, fingering Synopsis: Sam promised to watch the episode himself, all bundled up under blankets in his own living room— Sebastian knows his best friend is probably practicing guitar instead, and Abigail will be too stubborn to give up gaming for a show she can catch up on when you ramble about it in the group chat later. Still, there’s comfort in the space they’ve provided him, his chest warm and gaze half-lidded as you press play, the shows intro sequence filling the remaining small space left between two bodies.

He’d like to fill that space with himself, eventually.

A/N: Crossposting this from my AO3. I wont be reposting every fic, but the most "recent" that seem to be popular. For my full catalogue then find my AO3 account in my pinned.

It’s the usual hang out night, held at your farmhouse this time round because you insisted on doing your fair share of hosting, only, Sebastian can’t help but feel that it’s anything but usual. What was meant to be a four person TV series watch has now turned into a party for two. Sam, currently sick with allergies and Abigail, busy trying (and most likely failing) to beat ‘Journey Of The Prairie King’— something that Sebastian is sure will take more than one night of attempts, she’s already been stuck on it for a week... And well, he can’t really fault Sam for not wanting to make anyone else sick. If anything, he’s thankful to be the only one to show up besides you. It’s not really that bad of a turn out, not when he’s been secretly wanting to spend more alone time with just you and him anyway. Because see, he’s always been interested in you ever since you first came to the valley, and it’s as time’s went on and you slowly assimilated into his little trio friend group that he found himself thinking: yeah, four is a better number anyway. A small crush, he tells himself. Nothing serious, he jokes with Sam. No I wasn’t staring, he whispers to Abi. But deep down, he knows exactly what he feels, and as you finally come back into your living room with excitement in your eyes he knows it to be true— he wants to see that face every day going forward.

“Sorry for the wait!” You smile, his eyes drawn to your blushed cheeks when your attention is immediately focused on the TV in front of you. Tonight seems like a good time to confess, because while he certainly wants to do other things with you, it’d be rude not to make his intentions clear in the first place. To be a gentleman, and at the very least provide courtesy before anything else, smiling warmly back at you while you busy yourself with getting comfortable next to him. He likes you, and he’d be a fool not to take advantage of the opportunity right in front of him. Alone, with you. There really isn’t a better scenario to confess in, is there?

“S’all right,” He half-grunts as he repositions himself to be more facing sideways so that he can keep looking at your pretty face, as he always does. “You ready for the next episode?”

“Yes!” You beam back at him, remote control in your hand as you glance at him for what he thinks is a final time tonight before starting the weekly show, so he does his best to respond in kind. It’s one that the group had decided to watch together, and though Sebastian wasn’t that interested in the premise, he did enjoy the thought of spending more time with you, which is why he mostly agreed to join in the first place. He’s grown to like the show more anyway, though he’s unsure if that’s down to the (honestly, pretty mediocre) cinematography or because he gets to stare at you for an extended period of time each week. Lovingly, of course, he’d hate to come off as a creep. Always cautious about his looking, but feeling unable to control his desires for too long before he’s eyeing you up and down again. He always waits to dive deeper into his thoughts of you until he’s home at least, mostly because he can’t stand the thought of popping a boner in front of so many people and to be left unable to live it down for the rest of his life, but also because he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable at all. Would rather the boner scenario to making you feel any negativity in any capacity. “I’m so glad Sam and Abi said it was cool to continue, I’ve been waiting all week to see what happens next!”

Ah, yeah, the romantic plot line or… Something. It’s difficult to pay attention to the current story when his vision is so full of you each week, but he’s heard you chat about it enough to get a good idea of what to expect next. The protagonist and her love interest, finally, seemingly getting together. It’s cute to see you so invested in something, and he too finds himself thankful that his friends have allowed the continuation of the series in the privacy of a company of two. “Yeah, real nice of them, huh?” He continues out of pleasantries, knowing just how much you wanna get started. Sam promised to watch the episode himself, all bundled up under blankets in his own living room— Sebastian knows his best friend is probably practicing guitar instead, and Abigail will be too stubborn to give up gaming for a show she can catch up on when you ramble about it in the group chat later. Still, there’s comfort in the space they’ve provided him, his chest warm and gaze half-lidded as you press play, the shows intro sequence filling the remaining small space left between two bodies.

He’d like to fill that space with himself, eventually.

Even during the admittedly drawn out intro you’re cutely engrossed, the glow from the TV shining in your eyes so prettily, like there were stars or something, and he cringes at his sappy internal monologue. You’re still far more interesting to watch than whatever the screen is currently showing, and he takes his time when committing every detail of you to memory tonight. The innocent way your eyes are glued to the screen, the unknowing smile on your face as your favorite character shows on screen, the way you edge just slightly off your seat as if to get closer, closer to the screen instead of his arms. He huffs impatiently, low and quiet to himself at the thought. What he wouldn’t give to have you in his lap instead, he’d even still let you watch your favorite show, so long as he could hold you. Softly touching you, kissing the top of your head as a reminder that you are wanted. So deep in his thoughts of you that he doesn’t even realize how much time has passed— it can’t be that much— but he distinctly hears a moan that drags him back to reality. A soft but sinful one, his head snapping to the source of the sound as his cheeks instinctively flush. It’s coming from the TV, an intimate sex scene including those two characters you like so much. Already? He thinks to himself, so much for tension, before he finds his eyes once again falling on you, and he gasps a little at the sight that greets him.

Too many times he’s spent lonely late nights imagining exactly how you look right now, curled up in on yourself as you avert your gaze from the screen with an almost shy look on your face. Honestly, he never thought you’d ever optionally look away when this show was on, but he thinks you’re embarrassed. A sneaky smirk plastered on his face at the realization. It is a little awkward to be watching a sex scene with your friends, he can admit that. But he finds it difficult to feel uneasy himself, too amused at the way you clear your throat as the moans continue to fill the otherwise silence of your living room, keeping his vision locked on you to see exactly how you react to the explicit scene playing out with curiosity. Something he can use again you in the future.

“We can skip past it, if you want.” He offers before really thinking, his heart pace quickening as he tries his best to resolve your discomfort. Sure, it’s fun to watch you struggle, but all he wants is for you to be happy. “Really, I don’t mind—”

“No, it’s— I mean, it’s okay, really.” You stumble over your words, flashing him an appreciative smile before lowering your head once more to the ground.

Well, okay, he thinks. You’re clearly struggling to get through the scene, and though he’d rather you welcomed his help with open arms, he doesn’t mind watching you grow increasingly riled up by the exaggerated gasps and sighs from the show. In his more perverted mind, it’s easy to imagine that he’s watching porn with you right now, a quick look back at the TV screen shows naked bodies rolling around together, sharp inhales and teasing giggles. He wonders if you’d react the same way to him, then just as promptly he corrects himself and knows he’d have you moaning louder than that. And deep down in the pit of his stomach, or a bit lower than that, he feels as though this is his chance to show you that fact too, sighing to himself as he tries to resolve his inner conflict— and obviously fails. Because it’s about you, and he hasn’t a hope in Hell when it comes to you.

“You sure?” His voice is soft, spoken lightly and carried with faux reassurance while his hand stretches out to meet your trembling thigh, sucking air in through his teeth at the way you jump from his touch. “I don’t mind, cause it seems to be… Getting to you, y’know?” He smirks through his words, knowingly teasing you despite his heart wanting nothing more than to soothe. Can’t help it, you’re too cute like this, all blushy and pouty thanks to his words. And given the chance, he’ll do more than just soothe things for you anyway, so he doesn’t feel too bad in his taunts. He notices your thighs squeeze together in response to his words, or maybe it’s because of his feather light touch, he doesn’t mind either way. Regardless, his cock stirs in his tight pants at just how easy you seem to be, how innocent and sensitive you’re acting, shying away from his view at just how quickly he’s picked up on the state of you. You like this scene, maybe a little too much, huh? Not that he’s complaining, his own heart racing at just the light drag of his knuckles up and down your leg, catching the way you shiver into him, the small bite of your lip that causes his cock to jerk against his leg. Ah, maybe confessing can wait a little bit longer.

It takes him a moment to find his voice again when you refuse to answer, and he’s surprised to hear the breathy tone he carries with his words— “You can… Y’know, deal with it, if ya want.” He pauses, gauging your reaction to his invitation to touch yourself. Internally, he’s debating on his next words with extreme caution. Sure, it’s normal to masturbate, everyone does it, everyone knows everyone does it. But, is it too weird to talk about it with your friends? Maybe only if they’re the opposite gender, right? Because he’s had countless conversations about the topic with Sam, but never with Abigail. And he realizes then that it’s because he’s got a crush on you, and rather than it being an invitation, it’s an attempt at begging. “Really, I don’t mind.” He simply settles on, smiling reassuringly at you when your eyes finally meet his. And it’s true, he doesn’t mind, would relish the opportunity to relieve himself in private too if he’s honest— the look you’re giving him going straight to his cock as he imagines fucking his friend right on the very couch you sit on.

And then quietly, almost inaudible, he hears you squeak: “Really? You’re okay with that?” and he all too eagerly nods.

“Absolutely. Who am I to judge what you get off to, right?” He half laughs, attempting to make the otherwise awkward situation just a bit less embarrassing for you, shifting in his seat to hopefully make his hard cock less noticeable. “Take your time, I’ll be right here—”

Oh, wait, you’re undressing right in front of him? Instinctively, he looks at your face for answers, a quick flit up only to be met with a playful grin. Seductive, maybe? He knows better than to assume, though more than that, he knows better than to speak up when your crush is taking the first step towards assumed intimacy. Well, there’s no hiding his hard on now, is there? Your bold actions causing his pants to feel even tighter, his hands frozen in his lap while he carefully watches you peel off each individual layer of clothing slowly. So slowly that he’s convinced you’re teasing him, the continued gasps and groans emanating from the TV fading into the distant background as he instead favors listening to the soft shuffles of your clothes, the muffled thud as they’re dropped carelessly to your floor. Fuck, he already thought you were pretty before, but seeing you take action like this almost makes him dizzy with how attractive he finds you, and his inability to take the initiative back from you due to how in awe he is of your body only further turns him on. He knows you know well enough that he hadn’t meant to take care of “business” right here and now, in front of him on your well worn couch, but he can hardly complain at how you chose to mischaracterize his words when he’s no better than you are right now. “I—” he tries to speak. “I mean— fuck, okay—” He’s laughing, though not at you, and your cheeky side smirk back at him lets him know you understand.

“Is this okay?” You whisper at him.

“Shit, yeah, no, it’s cool. I— I don’t mind, go ahead.” He struggles to get the words out fast enough, but he smiles back at you when hearing your nervous giggle.

Without realizing, he anxiously runs his hand through his hair, thumbing stray strands out his face so he has a better view of your revealing body. The last item of clothing drops and he exhales harshly, unaware of the breath he was holding up until that point. You’re naked bar your underwear, and he curses low under his breath at the mere sight. This is confirmation, isn’t it? That his feelings aren’t just one sided, that he was taking too long to confess and so your hand was metaphorically forced, swallowing hard at the sight of your hand actually dropping to pet lightly at your clothed cunt. “Fuck y’can’t just— I mean I want you to it’s just—” He’s already gasping, replaying scenarios he’s fucked his fist to at night but coming up empty. Nothing compares to you right now, the cute blush on your cheeks, the way your lips part with heavy breathing. Shit, okay, he needs to tell you exactly how he feels. Wide palmed stroking at his painfully hard cock, no shame left in his system when you’ve just given him a wordless go ahead, he’s ready to cum just from your show of want— but he instead just teases himself. Wants to really show his appreciation of you soon enough, but first he needs to take control back. You’ve had your fun, now let him.

He clears his suddenly dry throat while you angle yourself towards him, biting your lip to presumably stifle moans. No, don’t do that, he thinks, cocky confidence taking over his mind with the understanding that you’re waiting, seeking his command like a good girl— and he’s all too happy to give in to you. Watching you drag a single finger up and down your clothed slit idly, eyeing at the growing wet patch near the bottom, fuck he wants a taste— “You can take em off.” He quickly glances up at you, but as if physically pulled back down, he’s drawn to look at your cunt again, his palm circling against the clothed wet tip of his cock as he leaks precum all over the inside of his pants for you.

And though he’s controlled mostly by his cock right now, he’s still a little surprised to see you listen to his words, his voice coming out in a shocked rasp of “Fuck, you’re really doing it…” which is less of a question and more of an admiration. Because yes, while this is the single hottest thing to ever happen to him, he also genuinely likes you. Wants to be with you for more than just this, but a little indulgence never hurt anyone, right? Seems you agree from how eagerly you get moving, his eyes glued to the spot between your legs as you hike them up a little, knees pressed to your chest to give him such a good fucking view, oh my God, of your pretty little cunt before your panties peel and drop to the pile of your other clothing on the floor. His cock hard and wet, drooling over his legs enough to prompt him into at least unbuttoning his pants to offer just a little relief— only a little. Because he’s more focused on you right now, and how pretty your thighs look when pressed together like that, and how tasty your wet little cunt looks as he finds it difficult to keep himself sat in place at the other end of the couch from you, wanting only to dive head first between your legs to eat you dry— he’s never been hornier than he is right now, and it’s all your fault. He’s got front row seats to the best show in the house— you, and he’s filled with need to show you that you’re a lot hotter than whatever they were showing on TV.

“Touch yourself, please— God,” He ends up begging, too turned on to really care for the embarrassment of sounding so needy, and it seems you’re much the same. A small whine escaping your lips that, he swears, almost makes him cum on the spot. So completely fraught with need for you right now that his body automatically turns to face you, one leg bent and pressed against the back of the couch while the other hangs off the edge, his rock hard cock front and center for you to masturbate to— no regret present on his features as he looks to your moving fingers with glazed over eyes, his mouth remaining slightly agape while he breathes shallowly. This is so much better than anything his mind could create, his chest tight with want for you and his balls full of seed, the palm resting on his cock now digging harder, circling his cock faster in a plead to have you match his pace. You must know what you do to him, otherwise you wouldn’t be taking your time so slowly, bitting on the inside of his cheek with impatience until your finger finally meets your slit and your legs magically open. And fuck, what a sight that is. His hips jut up on their own accord once you’re in position, head tilted back slightly as if to try and calm himself down before snapping back to watch you part your lips and drag a finger from bottom to top on your slit.

No amount of porn could have prepared him for this, the intimacy present in each glide of your finger up and down your cunt, collecting the slick drooling from your hole to drag it back up to your clit. He can hear just how wet you are, heart caught in his throat as he swallows thickly in concentration. “You’re not watching the show…” You mewl, and he has half a mind to pin you under him right there and then.

“Don’t care, this is better.” He’s quick to moan. “Can you— Can you go a little faster?”

You nod, and he has to fight with himself to keep his eyes from rolling back into his skull at the sweet sounds you let out at the increased pace. His fist wraps tight around the bit of cock he can reach before he grows immediately frustrated and instead digs his hands under his pants to free his cock some more, sighing into the relaxed feeling of freedom until he once again starts to palm at himself— then he’s tight lipped groaning. He feels like a dirty pervert, touching himself to you touching yourself, and he wonders if you feel the same. He thinks you should feel like royalty, the full effect you have on him in clear display as he touches himself to you, struggles to keep his hands to himself when you sound so pretty for him. And you’re such a good listener too, his cock jerking to the understanding that you want to please him too, fucking your little cunt faster as per his words, your palm sticky with slick that he wants to lick all clean for you.

He can’t hold back much longer.

“Do you mind if I—?” He asks, alluding to his cock as he nods down to it— still clothed, still rock hard and needy, still leaking precum, still wanting to be balls deep in you.

A quick nod of your head and he’s pulling his pants off faster than he’s ever done in his life, boxers coming with them as he clumsily tugs them off enough to kick them the rest of the way, throwing them into his own pile of clothing on the floor to half match your state of nakedness. He hisses into the cold air that kisses his tip once free, almost moaning as it slaps against his tummy with how rigid he is. “So fuckin’ hard—” He hums, mostly to himself, but he’s happy you’ve heard him too given the soft moan you let out too. “Look at what you did to me, fuck, what you do to me—” He praises you, leaning back against the armrest of your couch to fuck his hips forward, just a little, as if to really show off just how much he wants you, his fist quickly connecting to the base of his cock before he’s dragging it upwards to collect the copious amounts of precum you’ve pulled out of him and pulling back down, coating his whole length wet to tug at. And he’s not shy about it either, too far gone with the lust pooling in his tummy to care much for anything other than the need to get off, to get off with you. As he always does, really, even if most nights he’s alone in doing so, but now’s his opportunity to show you how much he likes you— cock hard and ready just for you, because of you.

He doesn’t mind an audience as he jacks off, so long as that audience consists of you. Hurriedly fucking his fist to a desperate tempo to try and quell the butterflies that fill his chest every time you make a sound, pulling the hem of his hoodie up to reveal some of his toned tummy for you to gawk at, to somewhat return the favor. God, you sound better than he thought you would, his own moans caught and quiet as he does his best to instead make room for you, to listen intently, ignoring the loud schlick of his fist pumping up and down on his dribbling cock and rather focusing on the wet squelch of your little cunt. How fast your fingers fuck into yourself, how he hopes to God you’re thinking of him, wanting to replace your fingers for his cock as he so urgently needs to. No words are said, not that he can think of any anyway— head empty and replaced with primal need, wanting moans shared among friends as he gets off with you. How he wishes he could speak though, to tell you how hot you are, how he’s dreamed of this for so long, how he’s so close to cumming just from watching you— doesn’t even have to be touched by you, just being in your presence is enough to get him off. And he’s focusing so hard on the way you flick at your clit, how fastly you circle against it, learning exactly what you like so he can hopefully mimic it at a later date all while he’s thrusting into his tightly closed fist and mumbling your name like some sort of prayer.

He’s getting dangerously close, and he hasn’t even been able to appreciate you like you deserve, show you exactly how he feels about you. And so—

“You wanna— wanna ride me?” He ends up choking out, acting out of pure instinct and talking before fully realizing his words, eyes rolling to the back of his head despite his best efforts when instead of verbally responding, you start climbing towards him. All of it happens so fast, his knees buckling and straightening out on the couch, sliding further down the length of it so that only his head remains on the armrest and you have plenty room to sit on top. His hands work on autopilot, finding home on your hips to help steady you above his lap as your nails rake up his tummy, digging under his hoodie to drag it further up his chest, causing him to moan into the hunger of your actions. Urgency is what he feels, desperate for the feeling of you wrapped around him as you immediately take hold of the base of his cock as soon as you can, his hips bucking into your touch to seek the tightness of your hole, unable to stop the tense moans tumbling from his open mouth. “Fuck, that’s it, guide it in— Sit on it, yeah?” he hopelessly babbles, fingers digging into the fat of your waist to try and pull you down his cock as you catch the tip to your hole— and then he’s done for. Completely at your mercy as you slow the tempo down, gradually fucking more of his length into your little cunt with subtle bounces until he’s all the way inside and he can finally breathe again. It’s difficult keeping himself held back enough not to hurt you when you feel better than anything he’s experienced before, his jaw strained and appreciative moans high-strung as he wills his hips to still for a second or two, let you grow accustomed to his fat length.

It takes him a second to actually collect his breath though, mind clouded by how tight and warm you are wrapped around his stupidly hard cock— so much so that it’s impossible to form any coherent thought as you sit flush on his lap. “No idea.” He manages to mumble, groaning at the seductive way your breathe huh? in response. Causes his hips to fuck upwards into you regardless of his best efforts, trying to thrust deeper into your tiny hole until there’s nothing left for you to take and grinding his hips against you. “You’ve got no idea how much I’ve wanted this, fuck.” His hands dragging your waist down to circle you on his cock for you, doing all of the heavy lifting simply because he can’t stop. “Can’t believe I’m fuckin’ inside of you, shit, y’feel so good—” he continues to gasp, his ass lifted off the couch under him to really drive his cock further into you. The action causing you to whine his name so perfectly, so sweetly as he circles his cock in you that he’s forced into more movement. Like something inside of him snaps, the last remaining resolve he has to treat you right falling the moment he hears his name sounding like that. And then he’s going, his beg for you to ride him thrown out the window as soon as he thrusts once into you, instead forcing you to fall back down on his cock with every precise hump of his cock into you, bouncing you up and down at his own pace due to how powerful and needy his thrusts are. You’re not riding him so much as he’s fucking you from below, keeping you pinned close to his cock so that he’s barely exiting your perfect cunt despite humping you into the air. He holds on to you like his life depends on it, a droning whine escaping his lips at the increased friction he fucks into you with, spilling loads of precum against your insides that inevitably end up running back down his cock with each speedy thrust. And your tits, God your fuckin’ tits, hypnotized by they way they bounce with his fucks— so badly does he want to reach out and grab one of em, drag it into his mouth for him to feed on while he fucks you raw— fuck he’s fucking you raw. A rough growl clawing up his throat at the thought, feels too fucking good to warn you of his predicament, can’t stop fucking into you like he was under a spell.

A shuddered “Tight little cunt, yeah? Feel s’fuckin’ good, shit— Look so hot riding me like this—” cut off only by a gasp at the sound of you so needy for more, his cock throbbing inside of you with want to preform but he’s so close it almost pains him to hold back. He was right, you are louder than the show girl, self assurance running through him and going right to his tip with the confidence that he’s fucking you better, the loud skin on skin slap resonating in the room to drown out whatever is left of the TV. He’s never felt so good before in his life, unable to even imagine going back to a life of just his hand now that he’s had a taste of your cunt, the feeling of your legs squeezing around him as you attempt to match his speed only to inevitably fail from how frantically he thrusts into you from below is too fucking cute, his balls tight and taut as he nears his end before he’s even truly started: something that would be embarrassing if not for the fact that he hopes you understand it’s because you really do feel that fucking good and he’s genuinely that in love with you that he can’t— he can’t hold back any longer. Fucking his dream girl while she displays herself so completely on top? The sight of your tits, your cute scrunched up face, the feeling of your cute little cunt sucking his cock so well? Yeah, there’s no way he was gonna last very long.

“Sorry— M’sorry, babe—” he whines, a high pitched sound to match his eager humps as he’s unable to stop the predictable from happening, looking directly into your eyes in hopes of communicating just how badly he wants to make it up to you immediately following as he thrusts into you a couple more times, fast and hard, burying himself completely into you before shooting a fat load deep inside your tiny cunt. A soft sob of your name followed by loud, gasped moans, like he’s forgot how to breathe again, his hips still obsessively humping into you to prolong his orgasm— the best of his life, might he add— and to fuck his cum deeper into you in some sort of innate need to claim you, insides and all. He said he was sorry, but he isn’t really. Not even when you let out a pathetic whine from the loss of stimulation, promising you: “Jus’ a minute, gimmie a sec.” With harsh pants as he allows himself to come down just enough to move back into action. He wants to act fast, to build upon what he’s just promised you.

“C’mere,” he breathlessly pleads with you, signaling for you to hop off his cock for a moment, forgetting all about the mess his cum will surely stain into your couch. “Jus’ sit right there, trust me.”

And because you’re a good girl, you listen, and he tuts affectionately down at you to soothe the pout you’re sporting. “Lean back a bit for me, yeah? Let me apologize.” He whispers, soft and flirtatiously, helping to guide you into position on your back, similar to how he was just moments ago while he hovers over you. The confused stare you look back at him with is so cute, and he can feel his mushy affection for you edge back in as his cock controlled brain starts to calm down, now focused solely on making sure you’re seen to as his dominant hand dips and disappears between your legs. Not a second later and he’s collecting the dripping cum he’s just fucked into you from your hole, using it as lube to rub gently at your clit as you look at him with shock. “Told ya.” He smiles, rubbing soothingly at your inner thigh with his free hand while he strokes your puffy clit. “Sensitive girl, made me feel so good, fuck— Y’look so pretty like this,” he dotes on you, hoping his words will help you get off where his cock failed— though he doesn’t think you mind too much. Not with how your grasping so insistently to his loose hoodie for stability, or from the way your legs wriggle and draw him closer, the room filled with your enticing moans each time he completes a circle on your clit. Now, with a clearer head and with you quite literally in the palm of his hand, he coos down at you with intent. “Think I love you. Really.” And he can’t stop the loving smile that tugs on his lips, nor the surprised sigh that sneaks up on him as he feels your locked thighs tremble around his back.

Next time, he’ll have you cumming on his cock. He has to, the sight of your back arching into him, the lewd expression you wear so well with the voiceless moan, fuck, he can feel his cock harden again just from pleasing you. His heart full at the thought that hearing his confession is what finally made you cum, humming quietly down to you while he finger fucks you through your high, thumb still rubbing lightly against your used clit while you gush for him— “So pretty, good girl.” He compliments you, praising you for a job well done in getting him off and satisfying his need to see you finish, too. It’s all he wants, really. To make you happy by any means necessary, and he’s happy to fill the role you had him play tonight any day, gently helping you come down from your high with slowly decreased movements until you lazily smile back at his adoring expression.

“Feelin’ good?” He asks calmly, because he obviously knows the answer already, but he wants to check in with you regardless.

You nod sleepily, followed by a soft “Mhm, thank you.” Before reaching you arms out for him to lean into, and he enthusiastically gives you what you’re seeking, his half hard cock resting against your sticky cunt as he wraps his arms around you too, pulling you in for a tight hunched over hug on your (now) stained couch.

Better than any show ever, he’s sure.

“I meant it, y’know.” He whispers against your neck after a silent moment, nosing further into it until he’s able to place a few light kisses against your heated skin with a smile.

“I know.” You reply, and he can’t help but remain hopeful when you squeeze his body tighter, wrapping your legs around him further to ask for more closeness. “But you made me miss my favorite show, so…”

He laughs a genuine, deep, bark of laughter against your shoulder before he huffs defiantly, pulling himself off your exhausted body with the intent on chastising you for alluding to the fact that your show is better than his sex, but he can’t find any strength left in him to tell you off after catching sight of how pretty you are when all fucked out. So instead, “I know, I’m sorry.” He relents, sitting back into his original side of the couch to stretch out a bit. “We can try watching again after a shower, if you want?”

“Yeah.” You yawn, and his heart hurts with just how much he loves you. The simplistic domesticity of the moment getting to his head as you extend a hand for him to hold, to help you get to your feet. “I’d like that.”

He’ll just have to get your return confession out of you… After your show.

#sdv smut #stardew valley smut #sdv sebastian smut #- writing

[ashwhowrites]

Older! Rockstar! Eddie Munson x reader, she goes to a concert of Corroded Coffin and Eddie sees her and he thinks she's cute, they've been in some dates but groupies of Eddie start to talk bad about reader and she's always sad because of that and Eddie decides that he doesn't want to see reader sad so they have a day without their phones so she can be relaxed and Eddie talks about that to his followers and he hates that people talk bad about her girl (idk if modern au would be good for this, but I hope you can write more Older! Eddie fics, we need him! No pressure tho!)

We can definitely make it modern au for the social media part. And I agree, we need older! Eddie. I hope you enjoy this and thank you for requesting <3

Fans

Y/N wasn't the type to go to concerts alone, but one of her favorite bands was playing and none of her friends would go. Her friends weren't into the older bands, but Y/N loved Corroded Coffin for years and now she was old enough to get into the venues. She wasn't going to miss her chance to see them just because no one would go with her.

As she stood in the front row, Eddie Munson right there in front of her eyes, she knew she made the right choice. She couldn't help but feel like he was constantly looking right back at her. His eyes stared at her as she sang along, her eyes switching from his eyes to his lips, to his fingers on the guitar. He was even more hot up close.

Eddie finished the set, his mind still thinking of the girl in the front row. She knew every song, every beat, and she was gorgeous.

"Question, how old do you think the girl in the front was? With the black cropped Eddie's girl shirt, and red lips." Eddie asked, the band in the dressing room as they stripped out of their sweaty clothes.

"No idea, but old enough to get in." Gareth shrugged. Eddie nodded, that was enough for him. He didn't bother to find another shirt, throwing on a zip-up and sweatpants. He threw his hair in a bun and headed back out to the crowd. Girls screaming when they caught him sneaking by. He smiled and winked at a few as he tried to find the girl. Catching the back of her as she headed for the exit.

"HEY! RED LIPS!" He screamed, he hoped his voice would carry over the sound of the screaming girls. But she kept walking, Eddie signed as many things as he could as his eyes stayed on her.

"YO EDDIE'S GIRL IN FRONT ROW!" he tried again, this time she stopped. He could see her head look down at her shirt and then slowly turn around. Eddie softly pushed past the girls, apologizing for walking by, he promised to come back to sign things.

"Me?" She mouthed as he walked closer.

He smirked and nodded, walking faster to reach her. She stood next to the door and looked around. Thousands of girls staring at them. Some older women and some young girls like her.

"Here's my number, use it anyway you want." He winked as he handed her the piece of paper.

~~~

That was four months ago, and they've been on countless dates since. She couldn't understand the concept that she was dating her biggest celebrity crush. She tried to keep herself calm around him, but he made her lose her mind.

She hung out with the band, she sat on the sidelines during practices. It was like her world flipped upside down.

Eddie was exactly as she thought he'd be. He was hyper, funny, and childish at times. He was still young at heart and enjoyed doing the dumb things she did. Age wasn't an issue for them, but it was for the fans.

Y/N knew that dating someone famous would be hard. She was a fan herself, she's read countless tweets about jealous fans and how cruel they could be. She never thought she'd be on the receiving end of it.

The relationship was still fresh, and the fans one by one finding out more about her. Some fans thought she looked good with Eddie, and many loved that she was a real fan before the relationship even began. But once the news got out that Eddie Munson, the heartthrob was dating a younger girl, the world exploded.

Every magazine was fixated on it. It was the hot gossip and the main topic Eddie talked about in interviews. Eddie was never a private person and she didn't expect him to be now either. But she wished her age wasn't a big scandal.

"Eddie Munson's new girlfriend.....read about the hot young twenty-one-year-old now!"

"Eddie Munson shows off new young girlfriend, love or just lust?"

"The lead singer of Corroded Coffin is off the market! But seems to only be looking in the juniors section."

Yeah, some got nasty about it.

She sat on her phone, looking at the comments below Eddie's new post, a selfie of them on the beach.

"He's only with her because she's young."

"Jeez can she be anymore see through? Dating the biggest star in the world at her age? was she even born when his music came out?"

"Probably dropped out of college and needs a quick money grab."

"she's not even that attractive.....I think he's more into her being twenty years younger than him."

"I hope she enjoys this while she can. Not like he's going to settle down and marry her"

"I hope he sees she's just in it for the money."

"I told you to stop reading those," Eddie demanded, snatching the phone out of her hand. He sighed as he turned off her phone, putting it in his back pocket. He crossed his arms as he stood in front of her.

"I'm sorry! It's just that they hate me. These are your fans and I want them to like me." Y/N said, looking up as Eddie gave her the dad look.

"Okay giving me that look doesn't make me feel any better about people making jokes about me being young enough to be your daughter." She huffed, crossing her arms.

"Baby, don't listen to them. They don't know about our relationship, why believe what they have to say?" Eddie said, taking a seat next to her. He grabbed her legs and put them on his lap, his rough hands rubbing her soft skin.

"These are people that love you like I do! I hate to disappoint everyone because I'm not the right age."

"If you spend so much time listening to them, can you listen to me? I don't care what anyone thinks of our relationship. The people that truly love me, like the way you do, will accept and love you. You aren't disappointing anyone and there's nothing wrong with your age. The band loves you! They adore you and support us. They don't look at you and see your age. They see the hot girl that was front row screaming her lungs out in an Eddie Munson girl shirt." He said, his hand stopped on her knee giving it a comforting squeeze.

"I love you and I love the band as well." She said smiling. She moved into his lap and he wrapped his arms around her.

"No phones today. Just me and you." He said, kissing her cheek as she cuddled into him.

"Just me and you." She repeated.

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @manyfandomsfanvergentreblogs @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson request #eddie munson angst #eddie munson angst x reader #eddie munson fluff x reader #eddie munson fluff #older eddie munson x reader #rockstar! eddie x reader #ashwhowrites

[korlkorl]

jack howl likes a routine, you decided to add some spice to it 💥

+ my boy jack does not get enough love im tweaking so bad i had to write my own

jack howl, first year of savanclaw dorm, wakes up at 5am every morning, sharp. he works out, goes down for breakfast and heads to class energized and ready to learn. afterschool, he’d run a few laps around the track before going back and doing his homework. before bed, he’d do at-home cardio and organize his things before resting early. leona pats him on the back for sleeping early. he thinks jack is the finest of all savanaclaw men; everyone else is too rowdy. leona likes his sleep.

you’ve been interested in jack for a while. but as someone who isn’t as strict about routine as he is, you find it difficult to catch up on his schedule. so you’ve been seeing him less. although you had your suspicions that jack might feel the same, you started to doubt yourself now. he wasn’t looking for you, no, and was sticking to his routine like every other day.

the only thing that remained the same between you two is that everyday, afterschool, without fail, you’d come and sit on the bleachers and watch jack run some laps. you’d feel the warm breeze across your face, or shiver under the cold weather. how does he survive being in shorts all the time?!

it wasn’t like you and jack were talking at all. just a little bit before and after. you didn’t really consider it a way to get closer to him, although seeing his muscles flex under the constant sunlight wasn’t a downside either.

the way he feels towards you, it was confusing. at a point, you thought it was completely one-sided. at another point, you thought it was mutual. now you weren’t so sure anymore.

you thought the way his ear flick sporadically or the way his tail wagged might be a sign. however, you concluded, his tail wags all the time. no matter how stoic he seems, his tail always lightly swayed left and right. he was often in a good mood.

but you do think that you and him are close enough friends to give eachother a hug. or something like that. so you decided to use your friendship status with him as an advantage to test the waters.

once again, on a quiet monday after school, you watched jack run.

you usually liked to count how many laps he runs in a day. for a guy who likes routine, the number of times he runs around the field are at random intervals.

as he came close to you to reach for his water bottle, you smile and look up at him. “you ran a little more than usual this time.”

“oh did I?” jack asked, wiping his forehead. “I don’t count.”

“well I do.” you replied, standing up slowly beside him. you fingers intertwined against each other behind your back and your head tilted just enough for jack to give you a curious glance

“good job on today, jack!” you try to say in your most innocent, ‘I don’t know what I did wrong’ voice as you kissed him on the cheek.

you clearly saw him perk up. his tail wagged, way faster than normal. success. you thought.

so he is interested in you!

“uh- thanks.” jack said sheepishly, rubbing the spot you kissed.

for the rest of the week, you gave him a kiss on the cheek as a reward. he’d blush furiously and try to act nonchalant. if you weren’t interested in him, you thought, he’d have no chance with you from the terrible attempts of acting like he doesn’t care.

by afternoon, he was already accustomed to it and prepared himself for a kiss on the cheek, which you did with no problem.

he still wasn’t saying anything outwardly (although it was obvious he liked you back) so you wanted to tease him more! it’s important that he opens up on his own accord anyway.

so by next week on wednesday, you sat there as jack grabbed his water bottle and tensed up. he’s probably expecting a peck on his cheek like usual, except it never comes. he turns to look at you as you looked back with your best ‘?’ face.

“aren’t you gonna…” his tail that usually swooped side to side froze on the spot. his ears twitched.

“gonna what?” you smile him.

“the uhm…” he scratches his head. “nevermind.”

you chuckled and stand up. he’s taller than you, so you have to stand on your toes and hold onto his arm to reach his cheek, but you give it a mwa anyway. jack perks up again.

“if you wanted one you could’ve just said so.”

jack looked to the side, embarrassed. “I thought it was… like a routine… or whatever… so… I didn’t think I’d need to ask.”

“I mean, I could kiss you whenever if you could just ask me out already.”

“h-hah?!”

the end ♡

#twst #twisted wonderland #jack howl #jack howl x reader #jack howl x yuu #jack howl twst #twst jack howl #twst x reader

[adventuringblind]

Hi, I noticed (mainly bc u read a lot of your work) that you write a lot of dark/ self harm based/themed fics so I was wondering if you would be comfortable with writing a lestappen x reader with an Ed. It’s totally fine if you don’t want to so ofc feel free to ignore

(Your work is always very well written and I look forward to reading what you post next)

One for you and One for me

Lestappen x Reader

Genre: Angst/hurt comfort

Summary: Nobody is immune to the toxicity of social media, Charles and Max help their girl through it

Warnings: HEAVY ED, toxic media, body dysmorphia, sexual acts are mentioned but nothing happens

Notes: You must be psychic because I you sent this while I'm struggling with my own ED. I hope this helps you as much as it did me! 😊

Masterlist

Social media is something that everyone seems to revolve around. In theory, it could be great. Getting to see photos of friends and family and updates from celebrities you wouldn't otherwise interact with.

But here's the catch: in practice, the entire thing falls apart. People are left with images of things that are unachievable. Photoshop and filters have become everyone's new best friends. People put only their best foot forward and try to look as perfect as possible.

And those who don't? The ones who are criticized? The ones who will never meet that expectation? They are left trying to swim to the surface of a never-ending ocean. Drowning under the weight never being enough.

So, they do what they can. Nothing can be that bad if it makes them feel better, right? What's one meal skipped every day to cut back on calories?

In her case, she'd cut it all out. The idea of perfection and control weigh heavy in the pit of her stomach. The one that is currently growling as she weighs herself for the fifth time that day alone.

It's addicting, really, the feeling she gets from having gone another hour without a meal. The elation of seeing the scale drop in number.

The media and fans had been all over her appearance after going public with Max and Charles. She'd tried to ignore, but there was a piece of her looking for an excuse to dive back into the habits of her teenage years.

Her mother said she never looked like she had an eating disorder. Her father only started compliment her on her appearance once she was significantly underweight.

Max and Charles had been there for the fall. Her habits finally catching up to her when she started working with Redbull. She didn't have the energy to keep up with the schedule and one day had simply collapsed.

She'd gotten better. Promised the two boys they would never be on the verge of losing her like that again.

Now here she is, breaking that promise over the triple header by not eating at all. She'd started slowly, but now she has a chance to speed things up before the two boys notice anything. Too busy to really pay attention to her weight.

Maybe it would've been better if they hadn't been caught eating together. The fans might have a little less leverage to use on her. Maybe if she wasn't wearing something more revealing to a party in Monaco then they wouldn't have noticed how she looks.

The number on the scale is far from perfect, but it'll do for now. She slips on her teamwear that is looser than it was a few days ago. A satisfied but tired smile plays on her lips as she walks out the door.

The paddock is busy prior to the race. cameras are everywhere and she does her best to avoid them. Thankful her job is away from the majority of people. The less the cameras see of her, the better. A small part of her wonders if it would simply be better to disappear or become invisible. Maybe if she's thin enough, she'll be invisible from the side.

The day seems to drag on. The race is good and ends with both Max and Charles on the podium. It's the last race of the triple header meaning they will want to celebrate properly tonight. Maybe they will compliment her more now that she's lost weight. There is a prominent gap in her thighs and maybe will even be light enough for them to carry. The though makes her swoon.

The cheery conversation in the car quickly turns to logistics. Plans for dinner are made and she claims to have eaten while finishing up her work. To hungry to wait any longer.

There is a hesitant pause. They like knowing she ate with visible proof. That being the reason they eat together or at least someone is there to tell she ate if asked. Even if it's a bite.

They don't mention it. Charles orders in while Max drags her out of ear shot. She assumes it's because he is pent up, nothing surprising after a race. But nothing happens and she is left mildly disappointed.

Max cups her face. "I'm sorry we've been so busy."

"That's not your fault."

"No, but-" Max looks hesitant. "We know you haven't been eating. You're exhausted and your clothes don't fit. We can feel your bones when we hold you at night." She looks at Max in horror. "We thought maybe if we just made sure you felt comfortable that you would come to us but it's bad again."

Charles puts hands on her hips. "We'll take it slow, like last time. But please, we love you too much to see you become a shell of yourself again."

They say in that embrace until there is a knock at the door. Max is quick to answer it. He comes back holding their dinner. An extra box sits on top. One she assumes is for her.

"We got you a small salad. Nothing massive, no dressing, just vegetables." Max sets it all out on the table. They keep up casual conversation, so she doesn't feel horribly uncomfortable. Until they notice she is just playing with her food.

"How about, we continue talking, but we take turns taking bites? If you manage three, we'll call it a night," suggests Charles. Goal setting was helpful last time around. One week she took one bite of every meal, the next was two, and so on.

She manages three bites. Each of her own followed by one of theirs.

They all clamber into bed afterwards. Exhaustion hits her hard.

No, it's not perfect or straightforward. Relapses happen but healing is full of ups and downs. But she has people who care and who love her for who she is, not what she looks like. They'd rather her be healthy then bringing herself to the brink of collapse. And she loves them enough to try her best which is all they can ask for.

#x reader #formula one #f1 fic #fanficion #formula 1 #racing #f1 fanfic #max verstappen #charles leclerc x reader #max verstappen f1 #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x charles leclerc #lestappen #mv1 x reader #mv33 #mv1 #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x you #cl16 x reader #cl16 imagine #cl16 x you #redbull racing #redbull f1 #redbull max verstappen

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Febuwhump - Day 1

Pairing: Dean x reader

Prompt: Helpless

Warnings: language, kidnapped

________

You were a damn good hunter. An amazing hunter. The number of times you’d been in bad situations was countless. But it was so rare to be…helpless. It made your skin crawl, sent shivers down your spine. 

There was something about being trapped with no hope for escape on your own that made you want to scream.

Demons didn’t scare you but twenty of them? Twenty high-ranking demons where no less than five had their black eyes on you at any given time? 

You had no choice but to sit on the hard cold concrete and pray Dean could come up with some way to save you. 

“Your little boyfriend wants to talk to you,” said the head demon, strolling in the room with an annoyingly stupid smirk. You narrowed your eyes, catching the phone when he tossed it over.

“Dean?” you asked, a breath being let out on the other end.

“Are you okay? Where are you?” he asked, the demon slowly stalking over and staring down at you.

“I’m fine. I-I don’t know where,” you said, the demon crouching down now, much too close for your liking.

“Can you get out?” he asked quietly.

“No.” 

“Shit,” he mumbled, noise in the background. “He wants us to do something for him. He says he’ll give you back if we do but you know he’s probably lying. There’s no chance of you making a break for it?”

“There’s too many,” you said, looking at your lap so you wouldn’t have to face the demon. “What do you-”

“It doesn’t matter. Just do what they say unless you think you can make it out but not unless you’re sure. Y/N…the things he said they’d do…hell wasn’t even that bad.”

“Find me then,” you said, jerking back when the demon stole the phone away. He grinned, holding it up to his ear.

“I take it we have a deal?” he asked. “Perfect. You know what I want. Contact me when you have it.”

You glared as he stood up, cocking his head at you.

“He sounds pissed but at least he’s not a complete idiot. Now be good and stay put. We wouldn’t want to find out what happens when you piss me off.”

With that he left, leaving you stuck in a room with twenty demons, every single one of them poised to rip you apart if you so much as moved wrong.

“Please hurry, Dean.”

_______

#febuwhump #Day 1 #Dean x reader #SPN #Supernatural #Dean winchester

[cerise-on-top]

Ooh, what if Price/Ghost/Gaz/Laswell came across their childhood best friend? Reuniting with reader who was there for them through thick and thin, until they joined the military and lost contact 🙏

I've been reading/re-reading some of your works!! They're so good! Also, I'm sorry those teenagers were pricks to you, hope you have some better days soon!

Hello! I have to say, I'm genuinely surprised anyone reads my rambles in the tags, I didn't think anyone would, but thank you! You don't know how much I appreciate it! Today was already a much better day, which is why I decided to write and post two requests today! This is a lovely request, very nice! Love me some platonic stuff as well! Sometimes all you need is a good friend by your side!

Price, Gaz, Ghost and Laswell Come Across their Childhood Best Friend

Price: He actually thinks about you from time to time, more often than he’d like to admit. You were a good person in his eyes, always there for him no matter what he went through, which is something he could appreciate. His childhood wasn’t particularly bad, but he had some days where he would have loved to simply throw in the towel, which is normal, though. Price was a rowdy guy when he was young, so you likely either went along with some of his ideas or were kind enough to talk him out of them. Either way, he appreciated having you around, so seeing you again would be quite the surprise, he didn’t think he ever would again. If he’s on a mission, then the talk will be kept short, but afterwards he’ll make sure to seek you out again, catch up a bit and ask you how you’ve been. Price didn’t expect to have missed you this much, but he only realized that once he saw you. You’ll either be going to one of the cafes you used to visit nearby, or maybe sit down on a park bench and maybe eat some sandwiches together, just like you used to during the good old times. Since you’d likely be around his age, so roughly 37-38, you’d have a lot to tell. Roughly 22 years you need to catch up on. He’s willing to talk to you, tell you about his career, how he's been doing, about the people he’s met and how he’s feeling. Considering this much time has passed, there’s a good chance you’ve both mellowed out quite a bit, but it isn’t unpleasant, you’re both mature people now. He likes hearing about everything you’ve accomplished, it’s like you became a new person during all those years. It’s so lovely to him, he sort of can’t believe it. Whether it’s a coincidence, or maybe you sought him out, it doesn’t matter, spending time with you again brings back all those memories he thought he had since forgotten about. He laughs, he smiles, he frowns. He’s a bit more expressive with you, but really wants to reminisce about the good old times. Even so, he hopes to be able to see you again more often, so you’ll likely exchange numbers. This time he tries to make sure to not lose contact with you and will text you every once in a while.

Gaz: When he was a child, Gaz was a lot calmer than he is today, a very quiet kid. He had always been a good boy, a gift in the eyes of many, but he wasn’t as active a child as one would imagine. Ergo he didn’t have very many friends until he became older either, but he was loyal to the few he did have. You were one of them. As you slowly started to grow apart, he started to miss you, but didn’t want to bother you either, as much as he would have loved to do so. So I’m sure you can imagine the surprise on his face when he found you at the mall the two of you would hang out in during rainy days. Gaz has become more confident, so he’d immediately walk up to you once he recognises you and start talking. Like Price, he’d be pleasantly surprised to just see you in such a mundane place, but won’t question it. Or complain about it either. In fact, if you’re not carrying anything heavy, he’d be the one to suggest going out to eat or drink something. Again, either a small and quiet cafe or a small restaurant. Maybe you’d go to a place you liked when you were kids, if it’s still open. Regardless, it’d be hard to get him to shut up with how excited he is to have you around. It’s a calm kind of excitement, but he’s happy, and that’s what’s important. It’s very likely that he’ll pay for your food, even if you insist he shouldn’t, but it’s not like he has any other use for his money. Chatting with him about the good old times is very sweet, he likes to bring up all the good things. But eventually, he’ll thank you for everything you’ve done for him and how happy he was to have you as a friend. Considering there were very few people who tried to get to know him, he was quite lonely, but you fixed that. You made everything better. From the pain on his knee when he fell as you gave him a band-aid, to the pain in his heart when the other children ridiculed him. Like Price, he’ll ask you if you want his number so you could continue to keep in contact with each other. He knows it’ll likely never be the same again, but he can pretend everything is as good as it used to be back when he was young. He’d love to spend time with you again.

Ghost: This man has had one of the worst childhoods imaginable. He was abused by his father, and the only friends he had aside from you were his mother and his brother. Barely anyone was kind towards him or accepted him considering he had always been the weird kid. No one but you wanted to spend time with him. Needless to say, Ghost had taken a liking to you when he was younger. You spent your time with him, you even defended him when some of the other kids ridiculed him. And now, 12 years later, he finds you running after a coin you accidentally dropped on the ground, bumping into him as you did so. He’d be wide eyed at first, a bit quiet as well. Once you left he never would have thought he’d ever find someone like you again, but here you were, just as quiet and surprised to see him. Ghost would pick up the coin for you and ask you how you’ve been. It had been a while. Although he’s not usually one to smile, especially not in public, you could see him faintly do so. He’s become a quiet man, so he won’t be talking too much about everything, especially not everything that happened after he joined the military, but he’s more than willing to talk to you about other matters. His life has become better over the past few years, but that doesn’t mean he isn't scarred still. He’ll offer you a walk to just about anywhere, really, even if the final destination will always end up being one of the places you used to hang out in as children. An abandoned house, a park, a mall. Manchester is a fairly large city, so there’s much to see. It would be a bit rough to catch up with him entirely, but he loves to hear about everything you’ve accomplished. You’ve become such a mature person, it warms his heart to see how far you’ve come in life. Back then, when everything was so bleak, when neither of you thought you’d see your 28th birthdays, everything was different. But now, you’re smiling at him as you’re drinking your milkshake. You seem to be better off, and so is he. It makes him nostalgic to see all of this, but he’s happy. Ghost will offer you to come to his home if you want. Even now, he still loves you dearly as a friend and couldn’t be happier about the fact he’s found you again by chance.

Laswell: When she was young she was a healthy mix of rowdy and good. While she never caused much trouble, she did stand up for herself when she needed to. However, this alone was enough to get the attention of some awful people. People either liked her or hated her, there usually was no inbetween for them. Some people did try to bully her, but it never ended well since she would fight for herself, plus she had some good friends who would do the same for her. However, none of them could compare to you, as you were her best friend. All her joys she would celebrate with you, and all of her sadness she would share with you. Back then, things were simpler, something small meant the end of the world, but you always had each other’s backs. Laswell tries to not think about you too much since you slowly drifting apart is quite painful to her. As she grew older, she learned to live with the pain and it didn’t bother her as much. Still, she was very happy when you were sending her a message after all this time. She may have been at work, but responded to you immediately, having missed you just as much as you missed her. Once you meet up it’s evident you’ve both grown a lot older. Laswell has been working for the CIA since her twenties, so it’s been almost thirty years. You have a lot to catch up on, but you take your time, eating at a fancy restaurant and spending hours there, laughing at everything that’s happened. Laswell would show you photos of all the places she’s visited during her downtime. She’s seen almost the entire world, some of it with her wife, some of it without her. Although she doesn’t usually tell people she’s married, to another woman too, she knows you’re a safe person, you’ve always accepted her as she was. Considering how happy you looked when you saw her wife, she continued to tell you about the world. But you get your chance to tell her about everything that’s happened to you as well. If the conversation goes especially well, Laswell might invite you to a few outings every once in a while, after you’ve met up a few more times. Plus you get to meet her wife eventually as well, which is a real privilege. Considering how much she loves her and wants to protect her, not many know about her. It’ll be fun either way since you get to make more memories together again.

#cod #cod x reader #john price #john price x reader #price x reader #kyle gaz garrick #kyle gaz garrick x reader #gaz x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #kate laswell #kate laswell x reader #seeing that someone read my rambles actually really cheered me up yesterdy so thank you for that! #this request was really sweet. I have a friend who I miss so dearly even now #I still dream of her from time to time. she was my best friend but I never was hers #Sometimes I wish I had the guts to text her but I'm awkward and can't hold a conversation to save my life so I'll have to live like that #oh well! it happens unfortunately! wish it didn't though! #anyway as much as I love to romance the lads and the lasses there's something so wholesome about friendship too! #especially a really good one where you can goof around and have fun and give each other sweet gifts! #Love friendship! friendships are fun! I'm glad I get to write platonic stuff every once in a while as well! #I'm not a romantic person at all irl but I can appreciate a good friendship! #thank you for this request it was very cool and epic!

[koostarcandy]

sweet thing

summary: a night where jungkook comes back to your sweet self, paired with long hugs and silencing kisses.

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: fluff, there's nothing else you can expect here in star candy land ^^ slight mention of smut, should i mention jaykay has a bike here?

a/n: im putting out everything i can before i get busy again :// inspired by those eyes by new west :3 this is the same universe as the hold on couple but can be read as a stand-alone! oktybyeeee ilyyyyy <3!

sweetheart: found the bell peppers! we're making that pasta tonight 😤 see you tonight, love you ♡

jungkook re-reads your text, smiling wider each time. he shuts down his gadgets and grabs his helmet, rushing out so he could reach you faster. today was nothing short of long and draining, from half awake coffee making to zoning out at the big computer screen, it was all equally taxing, a routine he was slowly losing himself to.

he impatiently waits at a red light, looking out at pedestrians waddling on the rain soaked road infront of him. he sees worried mothers running after hyperactive children, teenagers sharing earphones and vibing, the elderly holding each other's hands to make sure they cross the road safely. these small things make him believe there's still hope in this world but his biggest reason for persisting will always be you.

you, with your fond smile and shimmery eyes when you see him at the end of a day.

with you all but jumping on him, trusting him to catch you. you try to hold him impossibly closer, landing kisses on every bit of skin of showing. you over him, bare chest to bare chest, heaving in breathlessness, stroking his tattoos and kissing your favourite ones. he gets ticklish when you do that, so you make it a point to kiss him all over, down to his fingers with boxing bruises. you sit up, scold him lightly for being too hard on his poor hands but sending him a proud gaze for progressing in his hobby.

jungkook plays his favourite memories of you in his head over like a broken record. times of you getting drunk and giggly over a bottle of peach soju and dragging him to every karaoke bar in sight. or when you made spicy cheese tteokbokki for 2 weeks straight, amazed that you never got bored of it. it could even be you snuggled into him at the crack of daylight, arms wrapping around him like the prettiest vines. you always press kisses on his chest, hands intertwining with his.

when he misses you deeply, like now, you are the only thing, the sweetest and most precious thing, on his mind.

"wow, immersion blenders are pretty fucking cool, huh?"

jungkook chuckles into your neck at your child-like enthusiasm, strong arms wrapping around you even tighter. the smell of roasted peppers, garlic and tomatoes are all over in your kitchen and the most distinct one in his sensitive nose, is you. his favourite jasmine lulls him into a sense of calm, ears tuned to your mid-cooking commentary and occasional humming.

"are we done yet? i wanna eat and sleep and watch wednesday with you," jungkook whines for the nth time into your neck, suddenly feeling the full effects of yesterday's leg day. you turn and kiss him, effectively shutting him up. your hands settle on the back of his neck, playing with the nape of his hair. he steadies himself with his hands on your hips, recognizing your foolproof tactic of keeping him quiet.

"patience, my dearest," you smile into his lips, "good things come to those who wait, you know that better than anyone else, koo."

"this pasta better be really freaking good, sweetheart."

"oh my god, this is the best thing that has ever been in my mouth."

"ugh, stop moaning, koo, your cute lil eyebrows are more than enough and are you sure about that? it's high praise."

"oh, my bad. you'll always be the number one when it comes to-"

"shut up and eat, there's a child here!"

jungkook laughs his elmo laugh, eyes immediately shifting to his beloved doberman. said child is half asleep, tired from playing around with his appa. your pink cheeks are full from the pasta you've made, your eyes becoming happy crescents when it falls on him. he keeps his empty plate aside, scooting closer to you. you take the hint and keep everything aside, sipping your soju-yakult-soda drink for a palate cleanse.

"oh, my big baby," you coo, cupping jungkook's cheeks and rubbing the apples of them. you place kisses on his head, recognizing your favourite vanilla shampoo on him. he curls into you, burying his face in your neck. you wrap him up with the fluffy blanket you've kept on the sofa for nights like these.

bunched up and tensed shoulders finally go down, breathing becoming even and scrunched forehead smoothing over. the jaunty music from the show you're both watching fade into the background, holding your lover as close as possible.

you love the fact that you're one of the first people in jungkook's mind to turn to for comfort because you'd give it to him anytime and any day. this is one of your favourite parts of your late nights together, wrapped in each other and drifting to dreamland and mind full of sweet things.

pt time: @armys-dna ; @junsai-tree ; @soobhyun ; @shatzkrinslinzki ; @jinsquishes ; @cherishoshi ; @fragmentof-indifference ; @indgio ; @jjkeverlast ; @parkdatjimin

#jungkook x reader #jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jungkook scenarios #jungkook imagines #bts jungkook #bts fluff #bts x reader

[run-little-hero]

Hey i have a good idea for a prompt: Supervillain captures hero and tortures them for months on end and suddenly gets bored of (torturing) them and decides to order villain to get rid of them. Villain isn't aware that it was hero he was told to kill until he entered the cell where hero was and right as he entered he immediately recognized hero who was filled with bruises,burns,wounds,cuts and dried up blood. Though villain for some reason couldn't force themselves to kill hero and just stands there for who knows how long contemplating on what he should do. Villain doesn't want to hurt hero and was about to try and help them until supervillain suddenly showed up. (Sorry if this is long hehe,im excited to see how you'll write it!)

TW // Abuse, blood, torture

“Just take care of it,” huffs Supervillain. “I don’t care how you do it, simply see to it that the issue is resolved.”

Villain shudders at the piercing apathy in their voice. Of course, he’s been in his position for years now. He doesn’t need to imagine the weight of a knife in his hand, or the sound of it slicing into flesh, martyring some sad sap of a hero. These instances, though few and far between, present Villain with an internal moral debate—a fleeting sense of pity over a guilt-ridden conscious. He grieves his fallen enemies, his almost-acquaintances, the way one might mourn the passing of a friend’s distant relative. Or a childhood classmate in a handful of nearly-forgotten memories.

This is not to say Villain considers himself a bad person. Certainly not compared to the likes of Supervillain, who fleets between candidates for torture like a child choosing their favorite toy for the day. But he’ll carry out the deed regardless, because like the hero tied up in one of Supervillain’s private cells, he’s been dealt his lot. And the only thing he can do is live with it.

“Of course,” he replies. “But are you sure you want to go through with it now? They might have more information than they’re letting-“

“They don’t,” Supervillain cuts in. “And if they do, I’m fed up with trying to figure it out. We’ll catch another one, one that’s easier to break. Now please, carry out my order and break their neck.” They smile, and Villain hears the phantom sound of bones snapping. “I need your cooperation with this, Villain. You’re the only one I trust to be discreet.”

Villain nods. “I understand. I’ll go right now.”

The abandoned cellblock currently functioning as Supervillain’s private prison is in disrepair, to say the least. Peeling paint, rusty bars, and dirt covered floors make it seem more suited to be a haunted attraction. Considering Supervillain’s anal personality, Villain is surprised his boss can stand to frequent the place so often.

An associate at the door leads Villain to a wing marked ‘Solitary.’ “The one you want’s in cell number eight,” Villain recounts the words as his eyes flit between doors. And nearing the end of the hall, he spies his target. He rolls up his sleeves, unlocks the door, and enters.

The first thing Villain can comprehend is the retched smell. It stings his eyes, and the thought pops into his head that he might not need to execute this hero after all—simply dispose of the body. But the second thing he can make out is a shivering figure curled up in a corner of the cell, and when he flips on the lights he sees that the hero is indeed, alive and conscious.

The third thing Villain comprehends is the singular thought that slaying this hero would be mercy. They are malnourished, battered, and bruised in so many places that Villain can hardly tell who they are, if he ever knew them at all. Swollen features distort their face. Dry blood and grime cover every inch of their clothes and skin. They wheeze in pain with each breath. But they have undoubtedly survived the torture. They’ve bested Supervillain—they’ve refused to give in. And to Villain, that is a victory for this poor hero.

He walks closer, kneels down in front of this victim. Slowly, their face rises to meet Villain’s gaze, and in an instant his world is flipped on its axis. There’s recognition, beneath the wounded flesh and bone, Villain knows this hero’s soul. And suddenly, he feels every bruise, burn, gash, and cut that covers Hero’s skin as if they were his own. That minute sense of pity has amplified into a mountainous weight of guilt. He can’t breathe, seeing that Hero can. How could they be here? The one hero he’s fought so many times, who he thought was dead after months of lost contact? The one person Villain ever dared to rely on?

A tear runs down Hero’s cheek. “Villain…” They croak.

He can’t do it. He stands, turns, stops. He has to think. If he carries out the order, how could he assuage the guilt? How could he live with this? He can’t fathom a world. It was difficult enough to come to terms with Hero’s disappearance. After years of a life in the shadows, without so much as a friend to lean on, Villain can’t let Hero slip away. Not again.

He’ll be on the run. There’s no beating Supervillain, he knows that. He turns and looks down into Hero’s glossy eyes. They’re staring up at Villain, waiting for him to say something. And Villain, standing in the center of the filthy, oppressive prison cell, is overcome with the strangest sensation of hope. If Hero has lasted this long, perhaps there is a way to escape. Maybe luck will be on their side, just as it’s led them back to each other in this moment. Was it such a difficult notion to entertain?

Villain kneels beside Hero, taking their hand. “I’m so sorry.”

“Villain.” Their tears continue to fall. “I missed you.”

Connected in so many ways, Villain responds with a sob of his own. “I’ll get you out of here. I promise.”

He embraces Hero in a second, preparing to whisk them away. But just as Villain feels a pair of fragile arms wrap around his neck, he sees Hero’s frightened gaze peering at something behind him.

A cold, creeping shiver runs up his spine. His heart stops when he hears, in a most unmistakable voice: “Now Villain, what was it I told you about cooperation?”

—

snippet #4

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[lizzyk137]

I'll Be There for You - A Spencer Reid Fanfic (Spencer Reid X Reader)

Description: You and Spencer had become friends since he moved into your building. Slowly you fell for him only for him to find someone else. Warnings: Mentions of- death, depression. Angst and jealousy.

Part Two! Want to read more, visit my Masterlist!

Perfection.

That's what you thought every time you saw your next-door neighbor. Pure perfection.

You knew who he was exactly. A FBI agent, part of the BAU, one of the greatest minds on the planet and he was your next-door neighbor.

He had just moved in a few months ago and ever since then, you'd catch yourself looking through your windows to see him walking off the bus and then running to the door to hear him walk up the stairs, only to open your door just as he was fumbling with his keys to do some mysterious tasks just so you could talk to him.

The first time you ever saw him was when he was unloading his stuff out of a moving van with a few friends, who you've come to know were his co-workers and practically his family. You were pulling up on your bike after a quick morning ride, to see the most gorgeous man turn to look at you as you braked the closer you got.

"Hello!" A cheerful blonde called out as you locked your bike near the entrance of your apartment building.

"Hi!" You had said quietly, suddenly getting nervous as four people, including the supermodel of a man, turned to look at you. You felt like they were looking you all over, analyzing you, which you had come to find out that they naturally do to everyone since it's their job.

"I'm Penelope! This is my friend Spencer; he's moving into the building!" The blonde said with the biggest smile plastered on her face. She was bubbly and confident which made you nervous since you were neither of those things.

"I'm Y/n, I live in 13B. It's nice to meet you." You briefly made eye contact with Spencer's sunglasses covered eyes before looking back down at your hands nervously.

"Did you know in most cultures 13 is considered an unlucky number and the bringer of bad luck? Most buildings skip the 13th floor entirely and most places don't number a house or apartment as the number 13 since it could bring bad luck to the area?" Spencer stated, looking at you.

"Um, I did know that actually. 13 is one of my favourite numbers and I also own a black cat too. So hopefully you don't have to be my neighbor." You chuckled trying to make a joke. The others laughed but Spencer just stood there looking at you.

"Actually, my apartment is number 11, and with how the building is organized with odd numbers on the left and even numbers on the right, I am more than likely your neighbor. Plus, I also don't believe in superstitions since there is no scientific proof that they harbor any bad luck."

You nodded. "Oh... well, um did you guys need any help with your stuff?" You motioned with your head to the van filled with boxes labeled books. "There is a service elevator just on the other side of the building that we can use to bring in the larger stuff."

"Thanks, that would be a big help." A handsome-looking gentleman said. "The name's Morgan." He said winking at you.

A dark-haired woman shook her head at Morgan, then said, "Why don't we pull out what we can and do an assembly line to the apartment then we can use the elevator for the larger furniture?"

"Sounds good!" Penelope said and everyone broke away from the huddle to start pulling boxes out.

After that day, the apartment next to yours was quiet. The front door never opened or closed, and you worried that your new neighbor was dead. Worried after the fifth day of not hearing anything you knocked on the door to no reply.

You had called your landlord and asked him if the next door was vacant since you were certain that no living soul was in there. He said Spencer was still renting and gave you his number to call.

You sent out a text two days later, hoping that he wasn't dead next door.

'Hi, this is Y/N from unlucky apartment 13. I just wanted to make sure you were okay since there's been no noise for the past week. I hope my bad luck didn't reach you!'

You tried keeping it light and friendly, hoping that your worrying didn't lead to the real thing happening.

You received a reply a day later to your surprise and relief.

'Hi, unlucky number thirteen. No, the bad luck has not caught up with me. I've been away on a case and have yet to be home. Thanks for checking up on me!'

You chuckled at the message and from then on you and Spencer exchanged texts every hour cracking small jokes.

It wasn't until you heard the keys jingle outside the door a few days later that you bolted out of your window seat and opened the door to find an exhausted Spencer trying to unlock his door.

He was so tired he didn't even realize you had been standing there watching him struggle for a few minutes until you cleared your throat making him jump, dropping his keys in the process.

You reached down to pick them up, and your hair flipped out of your face giving him the best view to see your beautiful smile light up your face as you handed him his keys back. He cleared his throat, hoping his face wasn't red even though it felt like it was burning. "Thanks." He mumbled and opened the door quickly only for it to open a foot.

Inside you could see boxes piled up blocking any sort of passage through.

Spencer tried to shimmy his way in but eventually had to put his back to the door, bracing himself as he pushed it open with his body.

"Did you want any help unpacking?" You ask chuckling as the maze of boxes piled up.

Spencer tilted his head to look at you then let out a tired breath. "Honestly, I'd love that, but I'm exhausted. I haven't slept in the past couple of days. If the offer still stands in the next couple of days, I'll take you up on it." He put on a small smile for you to show he appreciated your offer.

You nodded lightly, "Let me know when you're all set, I'd be more than glad to set a few hours aside to help you!"

And he did let you know a few days later. You heard a soft knock on the door and could hear him pace back and forth for a second while you pulled a blanket over your thin tank top and short shorts.

"Spencer?" You said surprised as you pulled open the door to reveal a very nervous man.

He wiped his hands on his pants and cleared his throat. "Does the offer still stand to help unpack? I tried unpacking myself and it is not going that well." His voice was barely a whisper at the end, and you ended up laughing a bit at how nervous he was.

He gulped at the sight of you laughing at what he said, hoping he didn't seem inadequate at something so simple as packing.

"I told you the offer would still stand so there is no need to be nervous, plus packing always goes better when you do it with someone. " You chuckled and closed your apartment door behind him.

He didn't move from where he was, so you ended up knocking into him a little bit. "Whoops, sorry!" You said trying to take a step back but there was nowhere to go with how close Spencer was to you.

He just continued to stare at you and then cleared his throat taking a step back. He headed back to his apartment as you followed behind in your fuzzy slippers. He opened the door as much as he could and held it open for you to shimmy inside. Your chest moving as you nudged your way inside made his face instantly heat up and his eyes go wide as he tore his eyes away from your thin top.

'Get it together Spencer. She's helping you out, it's not time to check her out.' He thought to himself shaking his head as the image flashed back into his head.

"So where do you want to start?" Your voice rang out to him, making the thought of your chest disappear.

"Um," his voice cracked a bit as he tried to control it, "I think we should start in the kitchen since it has the most breakable stuff."

He led the way to the kitchen and you both started tearing through boxes and pulling out items, asking him where he would want things to which he was clueless on what would go better where so he left it up to you. In fact, he left every part of his house up to you on how it should be arranged. He just followed your orders and moved items to where they needed to go, his face turning bright red when you'd catch him staring at you making you blush slightly.

After that, Spencer and you became close friends and frequented each other's apartments often for movie night, to play games, to talk or just to read each other's massive collection of books. After a while, you both had a key to each other's house and you'd often find Spencer in your reading corner, which you had put a special chair just for him in, and he would find you making something delicious in his kitchen as you sang along to some k-pop song off-key.

You both grew to be best friends, closer than he and JJ were, and he'd often take you to team functions as his plus one. You were slowly falling in love with the tall nerdy genius, and you thought he felt the same way until one day he mentioned a girl that he was talking to.

Maeve.

Movie nights turned into Maeve nights. Nightly walks were only to phone booths where you would sit outside on the curb waiting for Spencer to be done, and weekly bookstore trips were only to look for a book Maeve suggested in her nightly phone calls.

Soon everything you once did together started going away and Spencer wasn't the same guy you first fell for.

You'd make him dinners for when he'd come back home from cases only for none of it to be touched. Books you bought that you knew he was waiting to be released would be left untouched and piling up on the table by the door.

The team would fill you in and let you know he was okay at least once a week since you never saw or heard from him anymore.

Sure, you were happy that Spencer found someone, it broke your heart that it wasn't you, but you were still happy for your friend. But soon, Spencer didn't want your company as he used to want it. Everything slowly was crumbling, and you were left in the dark from him.

It lasted for ten months before it all stopped. No noise, no movement, not even a breath was heard in the apartment next to yours. The team would come by, and he wouldn't open up his door to any of them.

Maeve died and Spencer was broken.

It lasted like that for months. You tried not to linger by his door on your way to and from work. You tried not to care too deeply for someone that dropped you months ago. You tried your hardest not to think about Spencer Reid. And it almost worked.

You were putting on your heels for a night out with the girls. In the last few months, the girls of the BAU team became super close even with Emily flying in every so often to meet up. Penelope had suggested a girl's night out with dinner, drinking and dancing. The three D's as she liked to call it. And for someone lucky they got the fourth D at the end of the night, and in PG terms she called it dessert.

Looking into the mirror, you looked back at yourself checking every part of your outfit over. A tight, sparkly black over the shoulder sleeved mini dress with black strappy heels. You had gone all out on your makeup, something one of your friends from college taught you how to do to get extra money on the weekends, and you had curled your hair in loose waves.

You sighed, fidgeting with the hem of your dress, a bit uncomfortable with how much skin was showing. You had been slowly building your confidence up the last few months you spent with Spencer since he showed you that it was okay to be you and that you didn't have to hide it, and you were trying to keep building confidence up even though he wasn't there anymore.

Your phone buzzed and you saw that it was Penelope messaging you that they were there. Grabbing your bag and stuffing your phone inside you headed out and stopped to look at Spencer's door, littered with baskets of self-care stuff and dead flowers. You missed him, but the door was a reflection of what he wanted, to close everyone out and drown out the world.

Dinner went by in a flash, full of laughter and drinks, and you were headed to the club when Penelope shrieked besides you.

"You okay, hun?" You asked chuckling at the girl next to you that was practically hyperventilating.

Instead of giving you an answer she just waved her phone around until JJ grabbed it and looked at what was pulled up. "Wow..." JJ mumbled. She showed you and Emily what seemed to be a picture. Emily blew it up and there all the guys from the BAU including Will were lined up on the wall dressed up in suits with stern expressions on their face.

"Daddy Morgan is looking so fine." Penelope whispered causing you to laugh loudly.

"Oh my god, is that Spencer?" Emily gasped.

All four of you leaned closer in to look at the line up of men. Morgan, Rossi, Hotch, Will and Spencer. Morgan had his best smolder on, Rossi did not look pleased to be there, Hotch looked tired, Will stood there like a deer in headlights and Spencer looked so tired that it broke your heart a little.

"I know, I know I said it was a girl's night but the boys were getting Spencer out of the house and at least out doing normal human things so I said they could tag along. Please don't be mad." Giving you her best pleading look.

"I think it's a good idea to get Spencer out of the house. Y/N is that okay with you?" JJ asked you concerned. She could see you tense up after Penelope said she invited them.

Nodding your head as a reply you looked back at the picture on Penelope's phone staring a hole into Spencer's digital self until you had to see the real thing.

You made it through the club's line quicker than expected, all thanks to Emily flirting with the female bouncer, and you headed inside, music blaring, to find the table the guys reserved for you. Emily could see you fidgeting with your bag, so she pulled you over to the bar and ordered a round of shots. "Liquid courage." She said as she handed you a glass. You ended up downing five shots and one mixed drink until Emily pulled you over to the table to drop your bags off to dance.

"Damn, princess, you are looking good." Morgan whistled to you, winking as you shrugged playfully.

"I see you girls are dressed up nicely, did we interrupt girls' night?" Rossi asked, taking a sip of his drink.

"Kind of, but we can still pull in our catch." Emily winked as she replied back.

Your eyed slowly drifted around the table as everyone engaged in conversations with each other until your eyes landed on Spencer who was staring at you with his jaw locked. You stared at each other for a few minutes before you felt a light touch on your shoulder. Looking up, you saw a handsome man smiling down at you.

"Hi, Y/N, right? I'm Jesse, we met at the bookstore last week."

"Oh, hi!" The table growing silent as they eyed the newcomer at the table, and you knew they were unintentionally profiling him. You could feel Spencer's eyes drilled into your back.

"I just saw you and was hoping it was you. I wanted to thank you for that book recommendation for my class! Surprisingly the sixth graders enjoyed it."

"I'm so glad to hear that! I read it to my class not too long ago and they loved it!"

Jesse nodded and looked up at the table. "Oh, I'm being rude. I'll leave ya be to your friends!"

"No, no! That's okay!" Penelope practically screamed out. "Y/N was looking for someone to dance with, if you want to dance." You swerved in your seat to give her a death glare before politely smiling back up at Jesse.

Jesse chuckled, "Um, if you want to dance, I'd like to accompany you." He extended his hand out and you gently took it letting him lead you to the dance floor.

Spencer scoffed, as he watched you two walked away. Rossi eyed him and shook his head. "What?" He asked the older man. "The guy was obviously into her. He was practically eyeing her body the entire time. And the excuse of coming over here to thank her for recommending a book! Lame."

"I never thought I'd hear Reid use the word lame before." Morgan muttered to Hotch.

"I thought the guy was nice. I see him come into the station to help out with the toy drives and I hear he helps out at all the shelters around town." Will commented causing Spencer to roll he eyes.

The table grew silent for a few minutes and the girls went off the dance, Will in tow, and Reid was left with three men who knew him the best looking at him.

Spencer took a sip of his water, trying not to let on that he was suddenly uncomfortable with all three men staring at him.

"I think we have a jealous Reid." Rossi finally said, breaking the silence.

Hotch laughed, "I think you're right. Maybe you should just tell her you like her."

Spencer shook his head confused and took another sip of his drink. "I just got out a relationship, which did not end well. How could I suddenly be jealous of her? She just met the guy for a second time."

All three men laughed at Spencer's remarks making him more puzzled at what they were saying.

Morgan cleared his throat, "No, not jealous of her in that way. Jealous of the guy she's with. As soon as she walked in you have been eyeing her, and when Jesse showed up you got mad at her for giving her attention to another guy. Even now your eyes have been following her around." Morgan explained.

"And don't say it's for her safety. She's quite safe surrounded by two fully trained agents and one police officer." Rossi chimed in.

"You like her, just tell her that." Hotch spoke up next, "What you had with Maeve was meaningful and real, but it was also mostly through a phone and there was so many secrets she kept from you. You should be with someone that you don't have to hide from. Someone that can be your best friend when you need it and is always there for you."

Spencer just nodded and turned his gaze towards you, watching as you drunkenly swayed your body to the music.

"Maybe I will, but I also don't know what to feel, and she means too much to me to use to figure out my own feelings." He starred at you as you laughed and danced. He was happy you were having fun, but he always wished his arms were wrapped around you as you both danced the night away.

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