#this turned out better than i imagined first

[simpjaes]

heeseung taking out all his anger during sex drabble pls ❤️

MDNI.

this was originally written for jeno on my other blog but it fits so well [i rewrote it/reworded a lot of things. it's much better now lol] wc: 2.3k

tags: Heeseung hate fucks reader when he has a bad day, unprepped penetration, reader basically loses her ability to feel anything other than his cock lmao (cock drunk)

It doesn't always hurt when Heeseung has his hands on you. Really, most of the time it’s blissful. There were those nights though, when he would be rough, careless, and borderline worrisome with you. Oftentimes humiliating you in the way you can barely even mutter his name, weak and quivering under him. 

It doesn’t happen happen, but when it does, you know how much you always end up…kind of loving it.

Really, even if in the moment you’re in pain, sometimes even scared, you had to tell him after the fact to keep doing it. That it’s okay. That you fucking love it. 

Naturally, tonight is another one of those nights. 

Heeseung, first, had you against the counter with his strong arms pressing you back until your head hit the cabinets. You were, essentially, pinned there between his frustrated eyes and the counter top with him slotting himself between your legs. Not a single word is said to you, not a single explanation, and arguably, you know better than to ask. 

You already know. He’s had a bad day.

So, you just let him. Feeling his lips go from a grimace to biting and nipping against your skin. You can only imagine how bad his day went for him to be so silent, still, you let him do as he pleases because you don’t exactly want to make it worse for him. If anything, you’re fine with being an outlet. You get plenty out of this too, after all.

And there is a part of him that knows he’s doing this with you rather than at you, based on your previous pleads to be his outlet. He’s forever in love with the fact that you let him be this rough, with his bruising grip and harsh teeth. There’s nothing more in this world he could need to unwind aside from you and you alone. Solely because you let him.

When he drags you to the bedroom without a word, you simply let him. Internally bubbling with all sort of emotions. Fear, excitement, concern, arousal. He appears to be more angry tonight though, solely because his fingers gripping your wrist hurts much more than usual. You can feel your skin under them, pulling and stretching under his grip as he takes you to where he wants you. 

And yet again, like on many nights like these, he doesn’t offer a single bit of foreplay. He does little more than getting his cock out with that same frustrated face, flicking his head down as if he has an expectation of you. That, he does. You know it very well, and you do as you’re directed. Rolling your pajamas down your leg and easily spreading your legs and pussy for him. 

Unprepped, still mostly dry. You know it’s going to hurt, and he knows it’s going to hurt too. The understanding is mutual but the act is much needed on more ends than just Heeseung’s. 

The drag of his immediate, forced, plunge is uncomfortable for both of you, but something about the feeling of getting you wet while he’s inside of you is something that grounds Heeseung beyond belief. The feeling pulls him out of his red thoughts and turns them a shade darker. 

It’s always you who can distract him. 

And, of course, he only goes faster and harder at that point, chasing the moment for when you’ll slick up for him nice and wet. Gripping onto your body in such a harsh way that all you can do for him is whimper and cry. Your eyes always force the tears, especially when he hasn’t kissed you yet. But even if he had kissed you, you’d be unable to kiss him back at this point. Not until the discomfort subsides anyway.

Thankfully, and like always, it doesn’t take long for your body to want it. What was once the sound of dry and slapping skin turns to that of wet, squelching sounds as you drip out and around him. The drag hurts no more, and by this point you need him to go harder, faster, fucking deeper. After all, if he’s going to hate-fuck you when you’re not even the point of his anger, if he’s not even going to kiss you, he better find a way to make it hurt more. 

Heeseung does come back to himself when he feels the slide though, loving that he can come home from his awful day and have you present yourself in such a way for him. He loves you more than anything, for so many fucking reasons that don’t include that, but still. This is what you do for him, and it brings his softness back tenfold as he reaches out for your face, eyes softening for you in concern. 

Fuck, he swears he learns something new about you every day too. After all the years the two of you have been together, he’s shocked when you turn your face away from him. He’s a bit defeated at the act, partially wondering if he’s really pushed it too far in terms of using you. It’s not often he doesn’t at least give you some praise as he does this, but really, he was so, so upset. His brain just….he needed this before saying anything. 

And so, at that motion of you turning your face away from him and his softer hands, he only slams his hips harder. He tips himself back a bit now, using one hand to tug at your clit as if it’s a form of retaliation from your rejection.

It would be retaliation anyway, but Heeseung knows well enough how much you love to hurt. You love when he tugs and pinches against your pretty, swollen clit. The sharp pains always make you cry in a way that fucks your brain up. As if you don’t know whether to plead for him to stop or to ask for more. 

Still, he’s frustrated that you won’t let him love on you now that he’s grounded himself a bit. His whole fucking day has been a disaster, and now you’re pulling away? Not making eye contact? Not letting him kiss you?

“Baby, look at me.” He says, now nearly demanding that you do as he says. 

And, of course, you do. 

“You want it to hurt more?” He continues when you still shift your eyes away from him, but he’s a bit amused in the way you nod to him. So out of it for him that he feels almost silly for being upset at you in the first place. 

“Yeah?” He nods with a half chuckle, slowing his hips but now driving in with intent and harsh plunges. “Just like that?” 

You yelp as you urge him with a nod, loving the sear and feeling of your boyfriend tearing you open. And while you know he’s being rough, he’s not quite giving you his all now that he’s softened up.

You want him to give it his ass by this point now, if the sound of your pussy is anything to go by. You want him to fucking hurt you, to the point you can’t moan, to the point you can’t breathe. 

“More,” You manage to get out for him in another yelped whimper. “You’re being soft.”

“Yeah?” He asks for confirmation with his hand reaching for you cheek again, burying his leaking cock in so deep, so painfully deep. “Look at me.”

You do, showing him your blown out pupils and mess of hair on top of you head. You nod frantically, wanting him to push further than he ever has. Wondering if he’ll ever surpass his own limit for you. 

It goes like this for a while longer than usual. More pain, more pleasure, and your heart rate higher than you thought possible. 

He’s using you so well and you couldn’t be more proud to be this for him. An outlet, his girlfriend, his sex doll. And fuck, he bites, he bruises, he drags his hips so painfully into you that you feel like you genuinely could be split in half at any moment if he truly wanted to. 

So full, you can feel it so deeply inside of you that all you can do is cry.

You lose yourself to that feeling, basking in the sensation of your walls clenching every inch of him and moaning out with each second that passes. To the point your throat is sore and your eyes are swollen from the tears. 

He pulls against your hair now, holding his hips in place and burying himself just as deep as before inside of you. Instantly, you see tunnel vision now. Like you could burst, both physically and emotionally, all for him. 

Him, him, him. 

And he only holds himself like that to the point that you can feel your cervix bruise. He only pushes harder now, trying to inch in more of his cock despite having no more to give. He lifts your leg over his shoulder just to get a different angle at the failure, only to find a way to make you feel him deeper than you thought was possible. 

God, it hurts so good and he loves it. Your pained face paired with the image of your pussy taking the entirety of him. You’re everything to him. 

And now? His grunts are that of focus rather than pleasure. He wants to ruin you, he is trying to ruin you to the fucking core just to see if you’ll unravel in a new sort of way. 

It’s the fact that he’s talking to you through it too. You can’t make out a single word though, tunnel vision is tunnel hearing, and all you can focus on is the feeling of his cock bruising the deepest part of you. Being torn apart by the man you love is…something you’ll never forget. 

And when you do manage to catch a smirk on his face before his hips start sliding back and forth again, you realize he loves this as much as you do. Of course he does, who wouldn’t love a girl willing to let her man surpass his own limits? 

Out of respect, no less. 

“Are you with me?” His voice echoes through your eyes, and while he’s fully aware that you’re absolutely fucking gone with the way he’s fucking you right now, he takes your distant nod as confirmation. 

Despite how far aware he seems in your head, you know that every sensation your body is feeling right now is because of him. You can’t help the quivering. The uncontrollable shaking.

It feels so good, to the point you are nearly numb to everything else around you. The swollen feeling of your body being abused is too, too fucking good. You can’t even comprehend that he’s kissing against your slack mouth, but you do your best to kiss him back. 

Goddamn does he love the way you drool all over yourself and him. Good. Fucking good girl. 

“Try again,” He chuckles against your tongue, waiting, just to see if you can manage to kiss him properly. Though he suspects you’re completely lost in your head right now. 

After all, he’s giving you exactly what you asked for. 

And all you can do in return is blink up at him with a dazed smile. Your body is moving up with each of his thrusts just to make it that much more painful, and his lips continue to lay against yours. He’s truly waiting for you to kiss him back like you have the ability to do it. Like you can truly think of anything else rather than what he’s doing between your legs. 

Hah. 

“You’re so gone, baby.” He smiles in a breath at your failure to do anything more than leave your mouth open for him. He’s fucking floored by how much you love this, and how you truly embrace the inability to think at this moment. “You’re loving this, hm?”

You can’t even not for him this time, feeling pangs of pain and pleasure shoot through your body with each sharp thrust. 

“Try again, pretty girl.” He encourages you when he licks against your bottom lip again, gripping your hair with his other hand and craning your neck back. 

”You can do it, come on.” He adds, biting against your neck and licking the mark. 

You once again, can’t even try, because he accentuates each word with a drag of his pulsing cock and a sharp pressure against your clit with his abdomen. So, you stop trying, falling into the depths of the sensations and allowing yourself to lose your grasp on reality entirely. 

Fucking hell, he loves it. The way you come undone, the way your entire body goes clack before shaking uncontrollably with a wet spurt of your pussy trying to push him out. He can feel you clench around him, your body acting on instinct to push, push, push, the pleasure out and all over him. 

He has to hold back his own impressed moan at the way he stays buried into you as you squirt around him with that pretty, pained look on your face. 

“Fuck, that feels good, doesn’t it?” He grunts out, slowing his pace to feel you clench around him fully, enough to where he needs to brace himself to pull out slightly just to shove his cock right back into that quivering mess. “So out of it too, god–” He moans now, leaning back just to look down fully. Noting how you’ve left a mess all over him. 

And you still continue to quiver, your pussy still clenches and grips him. All the way until you’re slack, still clenching, and he’s now pumping his cum into you with such a relieved moan that it almost brings you back to reality. 

By the time he’s done shaking on top of you, out of breath, and pulling out, your ears are ringing save for his soft voice. 

“Baby?” You hear him say as he dips down beside your head. “I got you.” 

You manage to nod to him and smile in a drunken kind of daze as he lifts you from the bed for the proper clean up from a boyfriend who very much loves you. 

#enhypen smut #heeseung smut #lee heeseung smut #enhypen hard hours

[killerlookz]

Olive Green Couch | Spencer Reid

description: when your best friend drags you to a party to meet a boy she's been fawning over, you find yourself completely bored and unimpressed- good thing you've stumbled upon a strikingly handsome (yet awkward) young graduate student named Spencer who seems equally as unhappy to be there to share your misery with.

pairing: grad school! spencer reid x f! reader

content: uhh mostly fluff, drinking, reader is described as wearing a mini skirt and wearing high heels.

word count: 4,242

If I have to hear one more Weezer song I'm going to be sick. You think as the slow drums of Undone pour out over an all too expensive speaker system for a frat house.

The MIT frats were nothing like you experienced before, they were- for lack of a better term- a complete and utter sausage party. You can't remember the last time you'd seen this many men in a single room. If you weren't so bored maybe you would appreciate this as a reprieve from the usual maintaining "ratio" of the state school frat parties you'd been to. But even now you'd prefer that if it meant you wouldn't have to deal with another sloppily drunk man explaining the plot of The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy to you. Rich, pretentious, too smart for his own good MIT frat guy or dude-bro, alpha male, business major state school frat guy- it didn't matter; they were the same side of the same misogynistic coin.

You look down at the shot-glass sized solo cup in your hand, staring at the clear liquid inside. Maybe just one more shot and you'd finally start to enjoy the state you were in. You hoped maybe six shots would be the perfect number of drunk to enjoy yourself. You screw your eyes shut and throw back your head as you lift the cup to your mouth. The cheap vodka burns the second it touches your tongue, and you wince as you feel it travel down your throat and to your stomach. Your body shivers involuntarily as the warmth in your belly grows.

You face forward again, looking across the living room for your best friend- the one who dragged you here in the first place. You had suggested bar hopping or trying to get into a club, you didn't buy her a fake ID for no reason. But she insisted on coming here instead. Here- to this sweaty house filled with... well... dorks. She came here looking for some guy- Michael... Matthew... Miles.... shit, you couldn't remember. It didn't matter, you were here now, and she had ditched you to fend for yourself.

You take a step forward and all the alcohol you had drank prior seems to hit you a once, "Woah" You can't help but say out-loud as you catch your balance and wait for the room to stop spinning.

You take a few more wobbly steps forward before acclimating to your new, tipsy state. You make your way through the dimly lit house, trying to find your friend amongst the crowd and rowdy conversations. Observing the bodies that populated the house you suddenly felt insecure, and insanely overdressed- why was everyone wearing jeans and a t-shirt? Maybe a mini skirt was the wrong choice for tonight.

You make your way to a back room of the house, occupied by maybe only 10 people by your inebriated brain's estimate. There's an ugly looking olive green couch in the middle of the room- it' had obviously been through a lot but and you hated to imagine what had happened on that couch over the years, but right now it looked like the most comfortable thing in the world. You walk over and plop yourself over onto the couch, the cushions having a lot less give than you expected.

The beginning riff of Someday by The Strokes plays just outside of the room, and you groan- turning to the guy who you had just realized was sitting next to you.

"Do you know who's Dj-ing this fucking thing- can you tell them to play some Britney or something?" The words fall off your tongue, sloppily.

The boy sitting next to you turns to look at you, a confused look drawn upon his face, "Huh- me?"

Shit. He's kind of cute- In a dorky sort of way. His brown hair is perfectly unkempt, and small curls form at the back of his neck. His jawline is sharp, and his hollow cheeks accentuate his prominent cheek bones. His eyes are dark, and he looks a like he hasn't slept in years- you figured with the workload MIT students probably have- it would make sense if he actually hadn't slept since getting there. Truth be told, all things combined he looked a little sickly- he was obviously lanky maybe scrawny was a better word- his button up shirt seemed a little ill-fitted for his body, and his tie poorly tied. Still- you couldn't help but notice he was hot. The first hot guy you'd seen all night.

"Yes, you, pretty boy." You smirk.

His face reads as even more confused upon your clarification.

"Oh um," He looks down at the half-drunken beer that sits between his legs, shakes his head before looking back up at you, "I-uh I don't know the DJ, and I- um, also don't know who Britney is." He responds, a small nervous tremble in his voice.

"Spears?" You let out a small laugh, "You know like- Hit Me Baby One More Time." You half sing.

"Oh-" He looks off to the side, "No" he faces you again.

"Go figure," You scoff, still, keeping a smile on your face. "Say- are you in this frat?"

He shakes his head, "Oh- no, I'm a grad student."

"A grad student?" You respond, your eyes widen in shock no shot the man you were looking at right now was any older than you. "How old are you?"

"21" He responds, almost nonchalantly- like it wasn't some insane feat. "Well," He clarifies, "I'm actually in my third graduate program, I already have a PhD in mathematics and chemistry, from Cal Tech. I'm working on my engineering one now."

"Jesus," You smile, "So what, you're like some sort of genius, huh?"

"Well, I don't believe that intelligence can be accurately quantified- but I do have an IQ of 187, and an eidetic memory, and can read twenty thousand words per-minute."

You stare at him in awe for a moment, "So, a you are a genius?"

He gives you a small smile in response, "Yeah- I guess." He nods.

You're suddenly intrigued, only twenty-one years old and already a doctor twice over.

"So what brings you here Doctor...uh..."

"Reid," He nods and presses his lips into a line. "Oh! But, don't call me doctor you can call me Spencer."

"Well then, what brings you here, Spencer?" You correct yourself with a smile.

"My friend- uh he wanted me to come with him, he's meeting some girl here and he didn't want to go alone. I kind of got dragged along."

"Well," You grin, "It must be fate that we're here together on this ugly green couch, because if you could believe it- I'm here for the exact same reason except my friend- she's uh, meeting a guy here."

Spencer takes a small sip of the beer he had been holding, wincing as the liquid touched his lips. You figured he probably wasn't much of a drinker, he probably had things much more important on his plate than getting drunk and partying.

"Not much of a partier?" You ask to confirm your suspicions.

"Mhh," Spencer hums, mouth still full of beer, he shuts his eyes tight as he swallows thickly. "No." He shakes his head violently. "What gave it away?"

"Oh!" You bite your lip... "Nothing!" You say, innocently, voice steeped in sarcasm.

"It's okay," He laughs, "I know I look like a dork."

His laugh is infectious, and you can't help but smile in response. And Damn- he's really cute.

"Oh! Don't say that," You swat your hand at him, "I'm sure you get tons of ladies."

Spencer tilts his head to one side, in obvious disbelief of what you just said,

"I don't really appreciate the sarcasm," He says, his eyes narrowing at you.

"Sarcasm?" You pout, "No- I mean it Spencer, what you're like a genius. And I mean- you're not bad to look at," You bite your lip, "Not at all."

Spencer shook his head, "I was a child prodigy in a Las Vegas public school, and until now, I've always been way younger than everyone in college- my experience with girls is practically in the negatives."

"Oooh!" You smirk, "Vegas," You raise an eyebrow.

"Mhm," He takes another sip of his beer, his face more relaxed this time.

"You think I'd make a good showgirl?" You wink

"Oh- um," Spencer is suddenly blinking rapidly as his head scans you up and down. You can't help but feel a little bad at the way you have him flustered,

"I'm kidding! You don't have to answer that." You reassure. "Negative experience with girls, hm?"

"Yeah- I-uh, I haven't even had my first kiss yet." He says, looking down at his lap, refusing to make eye contact with you.

"No?" You say, still shocked, even given his prior explanations of his experiences with women, "Well..." You start, pausing for a moment, "If you ever want that to change let me know." Maybe that last part was meant to be a joke, but truth is you kind of really hoped he said yes, right there, right now.

"What?" He looks back up at you, eyebrows furrowed, "No- I don't need a pity kiss. I don't even know who you are."

"It is not a pity kiss, and I'm y/n, I go to UMASS, the Boston campus- like 15 minutes away. I'm 20, and uhhh... Well, the rest you can find out later." You wink, "Now you know me!" You smile, perking up from your spot on the couch.

"Well- uh. Nice to meet you y/n" He gives you an awkward tight lipped smile. "Are you- um- enjoying your night."

"God no," You scoff. "Does that make two of us?"

Spencer nods, side moving his eyes to look around the room. It had gotten significantly more crowded since you'd came in here, you hadn't noticed, you'd been too focused on getting to know Spencer that you kind of forgot you were at a party to begin with. It didn't seem to matter now anyway, you were intrigued beyond belief and wanted to know more about Dr. Reid.

"So, why'd you leave Caltech? The weather is certainly a lot nicer than it is here," Your body physically recoils at the thought of having to go back outside to the brisk New England fall after the party was over.

Spencer shrugged, "You can only get so many degrees at one place before you need a change of scenery. I've been at CalTech since I was like- fourteen."

"Fourteen?" Your eyes widen, thinking about what you were like at fourteen. You certainly weren't CalTech material, that's for sure. "When did you graduate high school?"

"1993," He smiles and nods, "Twelve years old"

Spencer had a charming humility about him, he was the smartest person you'd ever met but he spoke in a way that made it feel like it was every day that someone could graduate high school at 12 and have two PhDs by 21.

"What do you plan on doing after college with that pretty head of yours?" You ask, your slightly intoxicated brain unable to stop you from instinctively reaching out and fluffing his hair. Spencer's eyes flick up towards your hand and he gives you an awkward smile paired with a small laugh.

"Well- I uhh... I've been in contact with this guy- well from the FBI, the BAU... Behavioral Analysis Unit. We came into contact after my second dissertation, he was shocked at how young I was, having done so much- he suggested I come to the academy when I was done with this one." Spencer explained, he talked in a way that made him seem unsure of himself, like he, himself didn't fully understand how it happened.

"God," You muse, "The fucking FBI? Could you get any cooler?"

"You know," Spencer remarks, "I think that's the first time anyone has ever used to word "cool" to describe me." The tone in his voice is light, it's clear he's happy about that fact, but you can't help but feel your heart break at the statement.

"Cool even sounds like a little bit of an understatement to me. But you know... I think I'm a little too intoxicated right now to think of a synonym, so cool it is!"

"Do you have any plans for after college?" Spencer asks, nervously running a finger around the rim of the glass in his lap.

"Nothing as cool as the FBI," You shrug, "Actually, nothing concrete, really. Has me feeling a little inadequate in a room full of geniuses."

"Oh trust me," Spencer scans his head around the room, "Not all of these guys are geniuses."

"Well- they're complete nerds at the very least." You giggle.

"I think I qualify as a nerd too." Spencer smiles back.

"Oh you definitely do," You say, scooting closer to him, taking the beer glass out of his hand, "But you haven't tried to talk down to me about some movie everyone's seen, or some album everyone's heard like I'm some dumb idiot bimbo yet." You huff, finishing what was left of the liquid in the glass with a single gulp. You slam the cup down on the coffee table in front of you, "And even if I was a dumb idiot bimbo- what makes them think I'd care about whatever they'd have to say about OK Computer. We've all listened to Karma Police, big deal!" You realize you're getting a little heated over this and cut yourself off, "Anyways," You smile, "What I mean is you don't seem like some self important loser."

"Oh," Spencer furrows his eyebrows, "Thank...you?"

"Do you want to get out of here?"

"Y-Yeah, Yeah we can go." Spencer nods.

You stand up from the couch, wobbling a little bit as your legs lift you up. The room, is blurry, for a moment all you can see are vague blobs of color instead of people. You shut your eyes tight, blinking them open to fix your blurry vision. You glance over toward Spencer, who's grabbing a tan suit jacket that had been draped over the back of the couch. He slinks the jacket on over his thin frame.

"You alright?" He asks, concern in his eyes. He must have been able to read the drunk all over your face.

"Y-Yeah I'm fine, lets go," You nod, reassuringly. You could handle your liquor, besides you hadn't drank that much tonight.

The two of you head for the door, wherever it is. Spencer was leading the way, and you hoped he had a better sense of direction than you did. The music is suddenly a lot louder as you exit the room you were in, and you suddenly feel a lot drunker. The sudden change in feeling causes you to stumble a little, bumping Spencer in the back. High heels and alcohol were never a good mix.

"Oh- hey," Spencer stops suddenly, turning around to smile at you, "Are you sure you're alright?"

You look around the room, at the hoard of people, the room thick with a combination of weed and cigarette smoke. You've never felt so lost in your life when did it get so crowded in here? The obnoxious yelling of frat guys mixed with the music turned to a volume you were sure would get the cops to show up is absolutely ear-splitting.

"Can you hold my hand?" You ask Spencer, needing his guidance more than you realized.

"Uh, yeah, yeah." He nods. You reach your hand out for Spencer to grab, and it takes him a few times to correctly slot his fingers between yours. You smile a little, watching him try to figure out the perfect hand-holding position. He couldn't be more pathetic if he tried- it was kind of adorable.

Spencer's hand is warm, a little sweaty against your palm. But his grip is tight and reassuring as the two of you walk the rest of the way out of the house.

As soon as the front door opens a brisk wind hits you, nipping at your exposed flesh. Goosebumps already dot up and down your skin, the only warmth you feel is Spencer's hand wrapped around yours, and you knew that warm sensation would end as soon as his hand got cold too.

With a little hesitance, you step outside to brave the cold. Your heels click as you carefully make your way down the concrete steps in front of the house. You stare down at your feat as you make each movement, fearing accidentally rolling your ankle or falling. You'd probably take end up Spencer down with you.

"Hmm," Spencer hums, noticing your trepidation, "Here," Spencer untwines his hand from yours and places an arm around your back, reaching to your other side, but barely touches your other arm, just holds firm enough for you not to fall.

You reach the bottom of the stairs, thankful for Spencer's help,

"You don't have to hold me so far away you know, you can pull me a little closer." You turn your head to look at him, "I mean it is kind of chilly out."

"Oh-uh," Spencer's arm pulls to hold you just a little bit closer, "Better?" His grip is still pretty weak around you, and you sigh.

"You know, Spence, I'm still pretty cold." You frown, staring down the suit jacket he was wearing.

"Do you want to go back inside? I didn't even have a full beer the entire time I was there- I can go get my car real quick and drive you home if you want. It's only a block or so away." Spencer responds, his voice quick, and nervous- it was obvious he was eager to solve the problem of you being so cold.

"No," You laugh, shaking your head, "I'm cold is kind of girl-code for, you should give me your jacket."

"Oh!" Spencer laughs, "Oh- I'm sorry, yeah- here, here have it." Spencer speaks earnestly as he slips the jacket off of his shoulders. He shivers as the loss of the fabric leaves him in only a thin button up and you can't help but feel a little bad for asking him to give it to you. But he hands you the jacket with a smile on his face, which lingers even after you put it on. It provides a marginal amount more of warmth than what you felt prior.

"Better?" Spencer asks.

"Mhm," You nod, "Thank you."

Spencer only gives you a tight lipped smile and a nod in response.

"So," Spencer starts as the two of you begin walking, his hand slipping into yours almost instinctually, it catches you a little off guard, and you feel your cheeks run hot at the gesture. "Where are you headed?"

"Oh- uh, back to Boston I guess," You squint your eyes, thinking, "I usually take the bus, the stop is up that way." You point up ahead in front of you.

"Let me go with you," Spencer says quickly, "I mean- not to your place, but let me ride the bus with you, I don't want you going by yourself."

"Why not? I'm a big girl, I can take care of myself." You retort, trying to hide the fact that secretly, butterflies are growing in your stomach at his eagerness to take care of you.

"I just want to make sure you get home okay." His hand grips yours tighter.

"Okay," A small smile draws at your lips, you don't want to fight him on it anymore, truth was you'd love nothing more than to spend a little bit more time with him, even if it was a short bus ride.

The streets of the city are utterly dead, not a sound to be heard except the whistling of the wind and collision of your high heels and the pavement. You wonder what time it even is, how long had you even spent at that stupid party?

The bus is just as empty as the rest of the city. When it arrives, nobody but you and Spencer are on, the two of you sitting patiently under the bright fluorescent lights for the bus to move. The lights are straining on your eyes, and the horrendously carpet-patterned seats might hurt your eyes even worse.

"What stop do you get off at?" Spencer asks, being the one sitting the closest to the button to let the driver know when it's your stop.

"University Drive."

The lights dim as the bus driver pulls away from the stop you'd been picked up at, and you're able to relax your eyes once more. You let your eyes relax until all of a sudden they're closed and then-

"Hey," You feel your head being jerked, "We're here."

"Hmm?" You grumble, slowly opening your eyes.

Your stomach drops, and you're absolutely mortified to see your head is rested on Spencer's shoulder. You whip your head off from where it laid and quickly stand up from the seat.

The bus ride was fifteen minutes, you couldn't believe you fell asleep. Much less fell asleep on some guy you barely knew. You're a mess of worry as you exit the bus, thinking about how awkward you probably made Spencer feel. You're so caught up in your thoughts you barely notice how cold it is as you step outside.

"Hey, look, I'm right over there." You say, pointing to the large dorm building behind you.

"I'll walk you to the door." He smiles, and your panic immediately slides away.

You walk with your head down, looking intently at the sidewalk under you as you head forward to your building, trying your best to keep in a straight line. You had to admit, you were pretty upset your time with Spencer would be ending in just a few short minutes from now. You tried to scheme up a plan to get Spencer to stay longer, but no ideas would stick to your brain. You sigh, crossing your arms across your chest as you approach the front door.

You whip around to look at Spencer who's trailing just a few inches behind you.

"Well," You sigh, "I guess this is it." You pull your mouth to one side in a small pout.

"Yeah- I-uh, I guess so," He shrugs, "I had a nice time tonight, thanks for, making my first party experience a lot better than i was expecting." Spencer's hands are shoved into his pocket, and he rocks back and forth while he talks, unsure of himself as his eyes dart all around you.

"Of course," You grin, letting your hands drop down at your sides, "Say," You cut yourself off, and shove your hands into the pocket of Spencer's coat, fishing, until you find what you were hoping for. You pull out a pen from one of the coat pockets, and grab Spencer's hand. "I want to see you again before you become some big tough FBI agent." You smile, scrawling the digits of your phone number on the back of his hand. "Call me sometime?" You hold his hand up for an extra moment, before letting it drop back down.

"Mmmhm, yeah," Spencer bobs his head up and down vigorously.

"Okay, good. Goodnight Spencer," You smile, giving him a small wave.

"Goodnight y/n" He smiles back, as the two of you turn around to go your separate ways.

You notice as you turn back around that you're still wearing Spencer's jacket, part of you has the urge to call out to him to give it back, the other part of you wants to keep it- if he wants to get it back, he'll have to come see you again.

"Wait! Y/n!" You hear Spencer from just behind you. You frown a little, thinking your plan to keep Spencer's jacket had been foiled and he was calling to get it back from you.

"Yeah?" You whip your head back around.

"Did you mean it when you said to let you know if I wanted to have my first kiss- and that you'd change that I've never um-"

"Uhh..huh," You responded, a little to eager as an uncontrollable smile began to tug at the ends of your lips, "Are you asking me to kiss you Spencer?"

"Maybe," His voice breaks, unable to look you directly in the eyes.

You raise one eyebrow, "Maybe?"

"Ahem. Uh- I mean- yes."

Before you know it, you're tugging at his tie, pulling him close to you. Your lips are on his, just a peck at first, Spencer is hesitant. He is unsure of what to do with any part of his body, his lips move carefully, his hands unsure of just where they should be, they rest on your hips- before they move right under your shoulders. You make the decision to tilt your head and deepen the kiss. Spencer's lips are soft with inexperience, he has absolutely no clue what he's doing, yet you can't get enough.

The two of you pull away slowly, neither one of you wanting to give up the kiss- but you eventually have to surrender to the night and to the cold. You place one final peck on Spencer's lips.

"Now you have to call me." You giggle, unable to hide your excitement.

"Yeah-yeah," Spencer nods, eyes wide, his lips are shiny and his cheeks a pretty shade of pink. "Absolutely."

"Goodnight Spencer." You say once more, before turning around to head inside.

A/N: whew! when I tell you I spent all day writing this i mean all day! that's okay though... im obsessed with grad school! reid. anyways..... thinking about making a (potentially smutty) part two to this ;-)

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x yn #spencer reid x you #criminal minds fic #criminal minds #matthew gray gubler #spencer reid x f! reader

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Also, I would like to add that Malleus’s blatant disregard for the autonomy of others and fits of rage is DELIBERATE on his end. Being one of the top five mages in the entire world, I am sure that he KNOWS there is a large disparity between his power/social and the rest of the peers/subordinates etc. His sheer and utter confidence in his abilities to get what he wants and general disregard for others isn’t only an indicator of his awareness about this disparity, but is also a reflection of the abuses of his power AND social status as a whole.

In light of his age, imagine the amount of times he has repeated these mistakes despite others advice and criticisms against his choices. Only Ace has been able to overcome others general reverence and fear towards Malleus when it came to calling him out. He is not an innocent person who is ignorant about the ways of humanity verses faes, and is certainly not the innocent character the fandom (especially those who are infatuated by him) think he is.

[Referencing this post!]

***Standard disclaimer: In sharing my thoughts, I do not mean to disparage Malleus fans. Furthermore, me disliking him should not detract from your own enjoyment of the character. If you do not feel comfortable reading about this topic (ie critique of Malleus’s character), then I encourage you to scroll on and to not engage with this post.***

My thoughts below the cut!

I do feel that, to some degree, the disregard for others and inappropriate fits of rage come from blatant ignorance (since Malleus did have a very isolated and sheltered upbringing). However, it's also hard for me to believe that in his 178 years of living that he was NOT told countless times by those around him (mostly Lilia and his grandmother, Maleficia) to wield his power and social status more tactfully than how he has. Did he take none of those lessons to heart??? What about the 2-3 years he spent living among the non-fae at NRC? Nothing from then too?? Regarding self-awareness of his strength and social status, Malleus has made it clear on more than one occasion that he stands above others. Right from his first appearance in the main story (in book 2), it's implied he's well aware of his position--so much so that he deliberately hides his identity from Yuu. He also cannot propose to Eliza in Ghost Marriage because he is the crown prince of a nation. Time and time again, Malleus's status is mentioned and it plays into his importance as the sole heir to Briar Valley. He must also know he is powerful, given that he is one of the top 5 strongest mages in the world and can perform incredible feats (like reassembling a stage and walking through Vil's poisonous miasma in book 5) like they're nothing. His grandmother and Lilia tell him the Draconias are powerful and shouldn’t use their magic to harm, but to help those they rule over. Yet he seems to have surprisingly few qualms when turning these powers against people who are only at a fraction of his power (Rook, his dorm mates, everyone in the Scalding Sands trip group, Ortho, etc.) or have no magic at all (remember when he attacked those civilians in Terror is Trending and the other Diasomnia students had to restrain him?). Malleus may be emotional in these moments, but the fact remains that he's making the deliberate, intentional choice to wield his magic in this way. He has the ability to hold himself back (as we see him refrain from fighting Rook in Malleus's PE Uniform vignette, only because he knows Rook is baiting him), but the vast majority of the time he fails to do this. For someone who is acutely aware of his power, you'd think he would... I don't know, keep a better leash on it? And what about his identity? So Malleus is concerned about Sebek insulting Leona (the prince of another country) but he ISN'T concerned about how his own fits of anger poorly reflect on himself, who is the CROWN PRINCE of a country??? Please make that make sense... Why is Malleus so selective 💀

I'm actually quite shocked at how little Malleus's pride and arrogance is pointed out; it's usually Leona who gets those labels even though Malleus is also just as arrogant, prideful, and confident in his own powers. Most of the time, I feel like I see Malleus being called "innocent". Maybe his negative traits on display get overlooked because TWST tries so hard to present Malleus to us as someone we are supposed to like (especially with how often they use his overpoweredness or loneliness is used as a punchline for jokes). Our interactions with Malleus are also so few and so short, particularly early in the main story, that fan project their own ideas about what he's like onto him and that forms a certain “image” of him that may not be the same as how he actually is. Him being lonely makes it easy for fans to perceive him as desperate for company and even easier for fans insert themselves as his “special” friend or S/O to fill the void.

It's... quite ironic, really? Malleus says in Riddle's Suitor Suit vignettes that he is familiar with the concept of "noblesse oblige", which is the implied duty of the privileged and nobility to act gracefully towards those less privileged. Yet... he is sometimes overstepping "fae playfulness" or "teenage childishness/immaturity" and continuously creating situations which put people around him in danger (all of Endless Halloween Night, not holding back his attacks against the Magicam Monsters, all the times he let his temper get out of control, book 7 OB, etc.) When defending the extremes he took in book 7 by citing his status and his UM, Malleus has this to say, which is very telling of his lucidity: "Monitoring? Meddling? Heh, how silly. It's a king's duty to govern, is it not? I'm watching over you. To ensure no nightmares befall you in the fairy tales you now reside in... To ensure you have happy dreams that last forever!" It's implied that Malleus's grandma has told him since childhood that their line has powerful magic to protect their people's smiles--and here he is, overextending those words to people that aren't even his subjects, and twisting the meaning to justify his own brutal rule.

What I noticed is... Malleus is often so oriented on seeing the situation from his POV that he fails to consider those from any entity aside from himself. In Endless Halloween Night, he feels sorry for the ghosts who showed up late and were left out of the festivities because he can relate to them, so therefore he wants to make sure they are included. In book 7, Malleus fears his loved ones leaving and projects this fear onto everyone else so he feels right in being the one coming in to be their "hero" and grant them happy endings they never asked for. In his own Dorm Uniform vignettes, Malleus frames the circumstances as, "I wouldn't be mad if you did the same thing to me" instead of listening to his peers' complaints. He centers problems around himself (which admittedly is very frustrating to me), and this is how Malleus tries to understand and navigate the world. This gives me the impression that he has a very particular way of thinking and it's perhaps difficult for him to understand others, even with extensive pointers.

I truly believe Malleus is ignorant about humans and fae. That much matches up with what we know of his history. What I do NOT get is why he continues to remain ignorant when 1) he has spent a few years exposed to non-fae and their ways; even if this pales in comparison to the 175ish other years of his life, he should have some new basis for appropriate social interactions with other races, and 2) most of the major adult figures in his life are exposing to him he should consider others' perspectives and try to learn more about that which he is unfamiliar with. Malleus has so many opportunities to expand his horizons and get to know new people, but he seems to sit around and keep waiting for others take the initiative for him. But he could initiate too, so why doesn't he???? (He has shown he is capable of it, as he approaches Deuce to fix his virtual pet and chatting with Idia about the same pet in the main story; if not by himself, then Lilia can easily assist or invite him into activities such as the Silk City trip.) Even if Malleus fails to socialize in a way that's considered appropriate, at least that's something he can learn from and correct for next time... But why doesn’t he????????? If he did, it would sure help out with his inability to empathize with his peers and could even curb his temper (which would be seen as socially inappropriate). So why exactly does he seem to know so little and make so little effort to try and rectify this???? Why does he keep postulating that his word is above everyone else’s and then get upset when people don’t like him for this very alienating attitude? Aaaaah, it's a sad cycle to witness him devolve into again and again... 😭

P. S. Bless Ace for being the one character who still held it against Malleus for the fucked up “prank” he pulled in Endless Halloween Night (and then convincing everyone the misunderstanding was their faults for “attacking the ghosts first”).

#twisted wonderland #twst #Malleus Draconia #Ace Trappola #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #notes from the writing raven #Lilia Vanrouge #Maleficia Draconia #Yuu #book 2 spoilers #book 5 spoilers #terror is trending spoilers #malleus pe uniform vignette spoilers #Sebek Zigvolt #Diasomnia #Silver #endless halloween night spoilers #book 7 spoilers #malleus labwear vignette spoilers

[norrisleclercf1]

Inspired by Mark entering his silver fox era:

imagine reader discovering Mark has grown back his facial hair and it's come in even more grey than she anticipated (maybe she was away for a week), and when she sees her husband again, she can't help herself and climbs him like a tree

oh my god send help, I am down bad for him 😵‍💫😵‍💫

A/N: We're going to hell but at least it'll be together lovely

Humming, Mark couldn't wait for you to get home, he's honestly never missed you more. He was finally getting a taste of what it was like for him to be home, but for you to be gone and he honestly hated it. He was never really gone long, not sense he's retired.

If he was gone long, you were always with him, you two couldn't be away from each other long, Sebastian, Fernando, and even Jenson used to make fun of him when they were all younger. They were so used to you being in the paddock when Mark was driving, and now if they didn't see you two together it was odd.

Mark had to keep himself distracted from the fact that you weren't home, he was so distracted he even let his beard and grey in his hair grow out. Normally he'd ask one of the kids to dye it or shave his beard to a stubble. But now, it was fully grown, and you could clearly see the grey in it.

Mark taps his foot, standing at the kitchen sink, washing dishes that the kids left behind. Mark pays so much attention to the dishes, trying not to stare at the clock, that he completely misses your car pulling in, parking, and opening the back door.

To say you missed your husband was an understatement. Mark and you have only been able to text and call, unable to face time, so you haven't been able to see your husband. You hear the screams of laughter from your 3 kids down the hall, and stop seeing Mark's tall figure and broad back facing you.

"What's up good lookin," You laugh, Mark turning around quick with his eyes wide. "Hey! You're home early!" You freeze, mouth dropping open as you stare at all the grey in his hair and beard. "You're grey!" You gasp, Mark groans and rubs a hand over his beard. "Yeah. I've been so distracted, trying to think how you're not here. And Ollie was busy with her friends so she hasn't had time to dye it." He admits and you sputter.

"No! Don't dye it," You drop your bag and rush forward, pulling him down to eye level as you rake your eyes all over him. "Fuck, you look hot." You groan and wrap your arms around his neck, Mark chuckles and stands and you wrap your legs around his waist. His hands cup your ass and bounce you a little bit, getting a better grip and groaning as you kiss him deeply.

"Ewwww," You pull away and groan, looking at your 17 year old daughter Olive. "Adult time, got it," She holds her hands up and you laugh as Mark glares. "What do you know about that," "Mark, protective dad later, husband duties first." You whisper as Olive walks down the hallway and closing, and locking the door.

"Right," Making you laugh loudly as he walks you to the bedroom.

#f1 #formula 1 #f1 fandom #f1 x reader #formula one #f1 imagine #f1 x y/n #f1 scenario #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 fluff #f1 blurb #mark webber x reader #mark webber x you #mark webber imagine #mark webber x y/n #mark webber fluff #mark webber fanfic #mark webber blurb #mark webber oneshot

[princessbrunette]

popes new gig as a driving instructor was meant to be easy money. he was a good, safe driver — and you were his first ever client. but from the smile you’d given him, all glittery and pink as you bounce over to his car and lean over to his driver seat window to greet him, giving him a direct look down your cleavage — he knew you’d do more than learn driving from him.

you preened under his praise everytime. it was distracting. he was trying to teach you how to safely drive, but everytime he’d let “you’re doing really good, keep going.” or a simple “good job.” leave his mouth you’d nearly swerve off the road. his subtle tips and adjustments would be met with flirtation, and giggly “yes sir”s to the point where he’d forget the rules of the road in an instant.

this went on for weeks, and due to his best friend jj’s constant lecturing regarding; ‘dude, you’ve got a hot ass girl in your car, practically begging for the D — you’re telling me you haven’t swooped on that yet? do better, man.’ pope decided enough was enough. this was either going to fix his problem, or make things really awkward— but it was a risk he was willing to take.

“pull up right here, in this parking lot.” he’d been extra tense that day, rather quiet the entire lesson with a stiff jaw and eyes hung low. you figured he’d been in a bad mood, and even went easy on your usual routine of finding reasons to touch his bicep at each stop light and flirting with him. you did as he said, pulling into the empty lot and finding a space somewhere in some dark corner where it would be easy for you to park.

without the humming of the engine filling the silence now, you turn and look at him in the dim lighting. pope often had two ways of going about things with women — either ultra nervous, or ultra to the point. with you, he’d started off a nervous wreck — practically jizzing in his pants every time you’d graze your manicure against his arm for the first few lessons, but due to the constant teasing he’d been driven to being directly upfront with you.

“look, i can’t take all this teasing anymore.” he stresses, brows creased. your giggly smile drops a little bit, seemingly switching on the innocent act. “every week, you hint and hint that you’re tryna get into something with me— and then at the end of the lesson, you just get out and walk away like it never happened.” he sighs hard, and you have to admit it’s rather cute.

“i’m sorry…” your brows knit together, guilt evident in your expression.

“and that’s fine — i would never pressure you to do anything like that, and believe me — i know this is completely unprofessional to be proposing on the job, and yeah — this could get me fired,” he rambles, working himself up. “but look, i’m a man okay? i am biologically programmed to have a bodily reaction to girls like you who can’t stop touching on me and being all adorable and sexy. that being said — if you wanna fuck, let’s just get it out the way, right here right now— and if not, we can drive you home, and never talk of this again. but you gotta stop acting like that, ‘cause i’m in pain.” he finishes up with his rant, sucking in a breath that he didn’t know he’d been holding the entire time. you stare at pope. pope stares back.

“oh fuck, oh pope!” you mewl into his neck as the car jostles violently from the backseat beneath the dim lighting on the parking lot. you’re naked from the waist down, and his shorts sit pooled around his ankles as you bounce on his cock, dick impaled through you. “s—so big, just like i imagined!”

“you imagined?” he pants, two hands planted on your waist as he helps you fuck down on his lap, staring up at you hopefully as he lifts his hips to meet your movements.

“every night! pictured you punishing me for bein’ such a tease!” you cry out in admission, halting the bouncing technique to roll your hips instead, the two of you groaning at the sensation.

“jesus, okay… well, i can definitely make that happen. you for sure deserve to be punished.” he babbles, pulling you closer — his eyes fluttering shut as you grind on him.

“are you g’nna punish me pope? for teasin’ you in our lessons?” your voice cracks desperately as you feel him repeatedly jutting against your g-spot, making your legs shake around him.

“yes. totally. i’ll punish you real good.” he spits out. it had been a while since he’d got his dick wet, especially from such a perfect princess — so all his concentration was going into making sure he didn’t bust right there and then. he simply agreed without thinking, he probably would have agreed to anything in that moment.

#div by v6que #drivinginstructor!pope #new au just dropped. again #pope heyward prompt

[zordanna]

𝓑𝓲𝓻𝓭𝓲𝓮

A fluffy fic inspired from this old drawing I did🍃

English is not my first language and I hate writing so don’t expect too much. It’s just a small scene where Sebastian realises he’s in love with my MC, you can imagine yours there too of course! I ain’t stopping you🫡 enjoy I guess?

Sebastian yawned softly as he kept silently reading his history of magic notes while sitting on the carpet and resting his back on the couch, Eleonora was next to him laying fully on it while reading the chapter trying really hard to not fall asleep.

“Ugh I swear I’m failing this time”

She mumbled while flipping pages. Sebastian rolled his eyes and spoke back with annoyance.

“You literally have the highest grades of all the students in our class, shut up-”

Eleonora huffed and gave him a soft nudge with her knee in response.

“Just because the competition prefers wandering in the restricted section more than studying actual subjects. You know- instead of  forbidden ones”

Sebastian groaned and rested his head on the couch seat cushion to look at her better.

“You are a pain in the ass.” He breathed out glancing back at his notes pretending to ignore her.

“The feeling is mutual”

She ruffled his brown curls gaining a soft laugh from him , the boy rested one cheek on the  cushion and gazed at her while his notes ended up spread around the intricated embodied carpet of Russel  living room. Sebastian  glanced at the book and got an idea.

“I can read it for you, if you want, so we both learn something at least”

His proposal sounded quite nice to Eleonora, she gave him the book and set herself comfortable as he cleared his throat. He started reading and he could almost feel her gaze caressing his skin, Sebastian didn’t know how he managed to say the words correctly without fumbling while having that lovely pair of blue eyes staring at him, the warmth of her presence, her sweet scent of lavender and soap pervading his nostrils…Merlin help him!

On the other side Eleonora’s eyes were looking at his freckles, she always thought they looked like a starry sky , sometimes she would find full constellations in them while stealing glances at her friend’s features. She  glanced  at his lashes, was it even legal to have them so long and soft? The way they fluttered while he was  reading, the way the sun was making them shine with a warm orange shade. She was mesmerised. That’s for sure. The words sounded like a sweet lullaby rather than an actual lecture on how their ancestors channeled magic trough the years, her eyes felt heavy and her body a little too relaxed. 

Maybe if she closed her eyes just for a second…yeah that should do it.

Sebastian was reading the last paragraph when he heard  soft snoring coming from his right side ,he turned his head a little to check on Eleonora and a warm smile formed on his lips as he realised she had fallen asleep. He closed the book putting it away before adjusting himself leaning closer to the sleeping girl. He rested his elbow on the couch cushion careful to not disturb her rest, as usual Eleonora needed her afternoon nap.

Memories of their third year flashed in his mind, rainy afternoons spent napping all together on the same couch down in the undercroft between a mess of books and unfinished candies. Anne was still…well Anne. No curse, no pain just Anne, sleeping peacefully while her tiny head would rest on Ominis shoulder as he was  nestled up almost like a cat. Eleonora’s long blonde hair would tickle his nose as he often found himself using her soft curls as a pillow. They always smelled so good it wasn’t his fault they felt so comfy.

Instinctively Sebastian brushed off some of her blonde strands that were framing her face, very carefully as if she was made of porcelain. Her long blonde curls that once were left wild and free were now tied up in that blue ribbon he gifted her almost two years ago.

“You keep wearing it all the time mh?”

He mumbled softly more to himself than to her. The soft blue satin fabric was a bit smudged near the knot after years of wearing it every day, that’s what happens with the things you love most isn’t it? They change. 

Sebastian always questioned why she would refuse to buy another one, a prettier one maybe made from the most expensive silk with embodied details but she always said that one was just perfect. She loved it.

And he loved how beautiful she looked with it. He loved the way it always made her eyes stand out matching their colour, he loved how it swayed like a swallowtail when she would rush around the hallways late for classes trying to not trip on other students. Swallows are a sign of hope and freedom, he was certain that if she had to be an animal she would be one of them. She was always there trying to see the good side of everything, which in his darker days was both infuriating and yet comforting. It was reassuring  having her slapping some sense in his thick skull sometimes, he couldn’t deny it.

He also loved that, her scolding tone, her stubbornness and resolution whenever he was acting like a complete ass. He loved the way she would ruffle his hair to annoy him, he loved how her soft hands were making him feel butterflies flying around his stomach every damn time…

Sebastian’s chocolate brown eyes were fixed on Eleonora’s delicate face as the sudden realisation hit him like a whole bombarda in his chest.

He was falling in love. No. He was in love. Utterly. Undeniably in love. 

He didn’t realise his face was few centimetres away from hers till now, his lips dangerously close to hers. Before doing something stupid and reckless he pulled away slightly and took a moment to gain his composure, his eyes wandered around the luxurious living room of her family’s manor, the paintings of the Russels were almost staring at him, judging him with their cold gaze.

Who was he trying to fool? He was nobody compared to her family, an orphan living in a cottage with his grumpy uncle, it would never be fair to her. Knowing her parents Eleonora had probably her life planned since day one, as her older sister Ofelia once told him they lived in a golden cage with all comforts but still a cage. It was all doomed from the start so- for now it was better to suppress those feelings. To pretend they never had been there.

For now having her friendship was more than he could hope for, Sebastian looked at the big wood carved clock and checked the time, it was getting pretty late, he sighed and with a soft spoken tone called for her.

“Hey…Birdie”

The world would never want them together, that’s what he was telling himself, yet when he saw those blue eyes and that warm sleepy smile greeting him Sebastian thought that the world could burn or destroy itself in that exact moment.

The world would know Lady Eleonora Russel but Birdie. Birdie was just for him and that was all he needed.

“Birdie? What am I a chicken?”

Eleonora said with a snort while sitting up and stretching a bit letting a yawn escape her lips.

“No more like a goose.”

Sebastian retorted with a cheeky grin. She had no idea of what passed by his mind all the short time she was asleep.

“Ouch- did I snore loud?”

“Terribly. I mistaken you for a troll or something at some point.”

Eleonora laughed at  the statement and crossed her arms in a proud stance. 

“Was I annoying you?”

“Terribly.” Sebastian said faking an exasperated sigh.

“Good. I can consider my mission accomplished then”

She added with a chuckle while they both got up to walk towards the kitchen for stealing a snack or two. Luckily her parents wouldn’t be back till next early morning considering their habit to attend balls and ceremonies  maintaining their high social status connections. That was a relief for the two of them but also for the servitude. The house elves were quite fond of Eleonora, a true ray of sunshine in that toxic household.

The afternoon passed by with their usual playful bantering like any other. It was better pretending nothing happened for Sebastian, it was for the best really.

Was it? Only time would tell. For now they were just fifteen, sitting on the kitchen counter munching a stolen slice of lemon tart while yapping about how they were both convinced Professor Garlick was hiding “special plants” somewhere in the greenhouse. 

It was a normal  spring afternoon during the end of the 19th century.

Flowers were blooming , birds were chirping and the air smelled like clean laundry and soap.

Winter was just a distant thought, none of them could ever imagine how everything  would irreversibly change in few months.

Moments like these would be soon turned into distant faded happy memories but for now…it was all that mattered.

#hogwarts legacy #art #hogwarts legacy art #hogwarts legacy mc #illustrators on tumblr #my ocs #oc art #artwork #illustration #sebastian sallow #mc x sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian x mc #fluff #oc x canon #sebastian sallow x reader

[aouiaa]

Gymrat! Abby hcs

Imagining Gymrat! Abby who wakes up at six in the morning, just to shower and go to the gym.

Imagining Gymrat! Abby who’s loud getting ready in the morning even when she tries so hard to not be.

With a groan, you begin to stirr in bed from the blender being turnt on.

You already know who it is—Abby and her little fucking protein shakes.

Imaging Gymrat! Abby whose protein shake recipes actually hit.

You couldn’t sleep, even after the blender was long turnt off, and the fact you closed your eyes to desperately fall back to sleep. But you accepted failure as the outcome and get out of bed.

Trudging out the bedroom and into the kitchen with a frown on your face. You’re met with smiling Abby as she just finishes downing her drink.

Her hair is in much better shape than yours. In her infamous braid, work out clothes, and when she sees you, her smile morphes into an “o” shape, “Sorry, did I wake you?”

You roll your eyes at the obvious question and waddle past her grumbling something about…protein shakes?

Imaging Gymrat! Abby who makes you try her protein shakes and waits like this. And who’s visibly happy when you hum in approval. And who’s worried when you don’t, always asking, “What does it need?”

Imagining Gymrat! Abby who does everything in her power to be quiet. Even once tried looking up ways to sound proof the room, but realized how expensive it was. Should’ve seen the big frown on her face staring down at her phone. Poor girl… :(

Imagining Gymrat! Abby who has two alarms one five minutes before her actual alarm.

And why would Gymrat! Abby has this second secretive alarm? It’s to have those five minutes to cuddle you.

You remember the first time it happened. You jolt awake to the sound of her alarm going off to which she quickly turnt off and turn on her side, wrapping her beefy arms around you, pulling you to her chest.

A groan escapes your lips to which Abby presses light kisses to your neck, “I know, sorry, bae.” she whisper in your ear. And it still shocks Abby to this day that you haven’t caught on. Maybe because you’re just a big sleepyhead. Her words…

Imaging Gymrat! Abby who has multiple names for you when she does wake you up by accident.

“Hey, sleeping beauty.”

“Hey, beautiful.”

“Hey, sunshine.”

All with a big stupid smile on her face.

Imagining Gymrat! Abby who brings you flowers time to time.

“Awe, baby. Thank you.”

“Of course, anything for my girl.”

“Wait…” you trail off, and stop sniffing the flowers. “Orchids? Wait, is this to make up for waking me up today?”

“Uhm, what? No? I can’t get my girl some flowers?” she says nervously, scratching the back of her head.

Gymrat! Abby who mostly did buy them to make up for waking you up, but also brought them for the beautifulest girl in the world.

Imagining Gymrat! Abby who doesn’t let you come near her when she’s back from the gym, and who is very very dramatic about it.

You’re sitting on the couch, scrolling through your phone when the front door opens to reveal a very sweaty Abby. Instinctually, you get up and greet her with a kiss and hug or at least try to.

You’re not met with requited love instead a squeal. You open your eyes and laugh at the sound, to see abby moving back, dropping her gym bag.

“No touching or…kissing.” she says “kissing” in a disappointed tone, “Until I’ve showered!”

You roll your eyes at the reprimand, “Oh cmon, I’ve smelt you. You don’t even stink…that bad.” You attempt walk to toward her again, but she skips back—almost bumping into your favorite vase—with another squeal, “Y/n! I’m being serious!”

“And I am too!”

In the end, she practically ran into the bathroom, leaving you in the hallway with a pout which she later kissed away after her shower of course.

Imagining Gymrat! Abby who actually invites you to the gym with her, but you can’t even workout. Instead watch the work out.

(See what I did there?)

You watch her do bench presses, and with every lift comes a grunt with it.

You watch from the sidelines—basically being her water girl at this point—as she finishes her reps.

“Thanks bae.” she says, out of breath as she grabs the water from your hand.

You don’t even respond back, just with a stupid giddy smile on your face as you stare down at her, wondering how are you supposed to work out when she’s here?

Imagining Gymrat! Abby who’s basically your personal trainer when you do work out. Cheering you on and helping you only when necessary.

Imagining Gymrat! Abby who secretly hopes you start coming to the gym with her more often. She always enjoys the company especially from you.

Imagining Gymrat! Abby being completely different towards you and her friends at the gym. With you, she’s so calm and sweet. But with her friends she’s so energetic and always challenging her friend Manny to some pull-up contest to prove something about being stronger?

Imagining Gymrat! Abby who’s a big baby when she has her resting days, always wanting cuddles and massages.

Imagining Gymrat! Abby who whines and holds you down when you try to get up.

“Abby! I neee to pee!”

“Nooo, five more minutes.” she groans before stuffing her face into your chest.

“Fine, five more minutes.”

Imagining Gymrat! Abby who calls out for you when she does finally let you pee. You constantly have to say, “I’m coming!” or “One second!” like a mother reassuring their wailing offspring that they’re coming with their bottle.

Imaging Gymrat! Abby who’s fyp whether on instagram or tiktok is filled with gym videos, or tips on new proteins recipes.

Imagining Gymrat! Abby who’s a big foodie!

Imagining Gymrat! Abby who was full on laughing when on Christmas when she got a blender with a protective sound proof shield on it.

“Holy shit, bae. You really got me one!” she says in between laughter while holding the blender in hand.

You can barely hold in your laughter as you nod, “Yup, now you can’t wake me up.”

“Awee.” She says, sounding bummed out.

Gymrat! Abby who does love the gym, but loves her girlfriend more.

How you can help Palestine, Why you shouldn’t support tlou/ buy the remastered, Educate yourself, #FREEPALESTINE.

a/n: Onward to Dina hcs!

Perm taglist: @elliesprettygirl, @dyk3ang3l, @ellies2fingers, @r3starttt, @slut4mascss, @k1ssesworld @marsworlddd, @bready101

#𝐘ᱹ writes ✐ᝰ #Gymrat! Abby #abby anderson hcs #abby headcanons #abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x yn #abby anderson x you #abby anderson x f!reader #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson fluff #abby anderson fanfic #abby fanfiction #abby anderson imagine #abby anderson tlou #abby tlou #abby anderson tlou2 #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fluff #the last of us angst #the last of us x you #the last of us x y/n #the last of us x reader #tlou #tlou2 #the last of us #the last of us part 2 #abby the last of us #lesbian #wlw

[propertyofyoutube]

So here’s my idea! Sam x Colby x Reader but with temperature play!!

My vision is Sam and Colby both being on the dom side and reader being sub and one of them uses/chooses something really cold like using ice and the other using something hot like wax play candles and they use them at the same time on the reader and its just pure love and smut and filth with maybe a sprinkle of after care?(the reader may go into sub drop???) (Also I kinda imagined her tied up to kinda intensify the sensations but she doesn’t have to be at all!)

Im sorry if this is to specific! I just love your writing and think you would do amazing with this! (Ps if you want not Sam x Colby x Reader requests I have SOOOO many ideas and could send as many as you would like 😂😂)

Tap once for no, twice for yes - EXPLICIT

Summary: Sam and Colby never competed for your love, never once made you feel like one was better than the other. One day, you decided to tease them, whilst they were both not home on separate outings. After sending them saucy photos, you made it officially a competition.

WARNINGS: SMUT 18+, dom!sam, dom!colby, sub!reader. Temperature play, hot wax, ice cubes, READER GOES INTO SUB!SPACE, squirting, slut, whore, princess, baby, swallowing, oral, rough sex, restraints, vibrator, overwhelming multiple orgasms. PURE FILTH! Aftercare.

Not edited. Requests open!

Authors note: I hope you like this! I will be doing a part 2 to this request, where reader goes into sub!drop and uses her safe word. I didn’t want to go too hard/negative for the first story in this book… follow to keep up!

Tumblr:propertyofyoutube

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You sighed as you tossed over in your bed. As you picked up your phone it was only 2:30pm. “Ugh!” You groaned as you tossed once more. 4 more hours until Colby was due home and god knows how long until Sam. It was Saturday, which meant business meetings, personal meetings and so much more. But for you, a Saturday was a day off. You hated Saturdays… but you loved Saturday nights. That moment, Sam and Colby returned home, having missed you as always, and making up for the lost time in every sensual way possible.

As you thought about what you had coming later on, your thighs pressed tightly together, thinking about the basement. Damn, to YouTube their basement was the react channel set, but on the other side of that camera was a sex dungeon. Imagine Christian Grey’s red room times one hundred.

Before you met Sam and Colby, you were what most people say “vanilla”. You hadn’t had many sexual partners who explored all areas in the world of intimacy and pleasure. Once you and the boys became an agreed throuple, Colby wasted no time to introduce you to all new levels of passion. And once Sam got a taste, he couldn’t resist seeing you, obeying their demands, on your knees ready for whatever they wish. You could almost feel their hands tracing your curves, your toes curling as they brought you closer to each and every orgasm.

Suddenly your eyes snapped open, bringing you back to reality. “Fuck.” You breathed out as you felt your body desperate for them, for whatever they had in store for you. Your phone suddenly dinged as you looked down at the text message that flashed on your screen in the group chat named, ‘Our girl’.

Colbs🖤: hey baby, how’s your day going?

You began typing out instantly: it’s okay, I just can’t wait for you to-… Your frown quickly turned to a mischievous smirk as you had a bright idea. You held tightly on the back button as the message quickly disappeared. You jumped out of bed running to your dresser. As you pulled on the top drawer, your eyes fell wide as the range of the hottest lingerie sets. You fumbled through the sets and one pieces until landing on the brand new, laced corset top and matching panties. “Bingo.” You said as you chuckled to yourself. You quickly changed into the beautiful set and you couldn’t lie, you looked fucking hot. You bit your lip as you replied,

You: how long will you both be?

Colby’s typing bubble made your stomach flip in excitement. This was a risky move you were about to pull, this was punishment material. But you couldn’t wait to crumble at their touch.

Colbs🖤: I’m not sure baby… why what’s wrong? Is everything okay?

You smirked, trying to think of the best way to get them home. You walk over to your full length mirror, lowering down onto your knees. You begin to type,

You: I’m just trying my best to resist going down to the basement…

You bit your lip in anticipation as you awaited his reply, or Sam’s. It was less than a minute before Colby’s message appeared.

Colbs🖤: fuck… someone’s horny😂

You chuckled as you read his text, but before you could start type out another message came through.

Sammy❤️: wait, what’s happening?

You giggled as you definitely had both of their attention.

Sammy❤️: don’t you dare go to that basement without us, y/n.

You bit your lip, it was working, and only after one message. You sat back as Colby continued, you admired the way Sam and Colby never fought over you, for love, for sex, for anything.

Colbs🖤: agreed. Don’t y/n, or there will be consequences when we get home.

You rolled your eyes, truly not giving a fuck how badly they gave it to you. You quickly positioned yourself in the mirror as you snapped a photo. You attached the saucy picture of you in your sexy set.

You: either one, or both of you, get home now or I’ll sort myself out…😏

You waited in anticipation as both of their typing bubbles popped up. The messages instantly came through within seconds of each other.

Sammy❤️: y/n what are you doing… I’m in a meeting with the merch team.

Colbs🖤: fuck, you take that off right now. I’m in line to get some lunch.

You giggle to yourself, as you removed the corset, placing your arm across your breasts, taking another photo.

You: okay baby, it’s off😉 fine if you’d rather eat that lunch. Stay there.

You teased knowing Colby hated when you tried to boss him around. As you began typing a reply to Sam, you knew exactly what would get them both.

You: please Sammy, please come home. I need you to feel for yourself, just how soaked I am… 🥺

You waited, as Colby’s bubbles popped up first.

Colbs🖤: I know what you’re trying to do y/n…😒

Sammy❤️: baby… I wish I could, but I don’t think I can get out of this one. Believe me, I want to… so badly😢

You sighed loudly, you had to go further. They needed more convincing.

You: I usually wait for you both, everyday… but if one of you doesn’t get home in the next 20 minutes, I’ll quick frankly make myself cum

You quickly ran to the basement, your need for them intensifying every second. Before they could reply you took a photo of the large 4 poster bed, covered in satin sheets.

You: first one home gets to do whatever the fuck they want to me 😏

A couple of minutes passed and you knew that they were probably on the phone discussing the situation. They never competed.

Colbs🖤: fuck Sam, she’s done it now… you’ve been very bad y/n. You better have yourself on your knees, waiting for us.

Sammy❤️: we’re on our way. First one home gets to show you just how bad you’ve been…

Your eyes lit up in excitement.

You: yes sir.

You quickly headed back up the stairs to grab a lighter for the candles and an ice bucket, accompanied by a bottle of champagne and 3 glasses.

You had heard the front door open as you kneeled in front of the bed, facing your back to the door. Your long hair covering your bare back as you left yourself in just the lace panties. Your body tingled with excitement as you anxiously waited for who ever was about to walk through that door. Sam always went a little bit easier on you. You had them both wrapped around your finger, but you definitely knew Sam’s weak spots. He was easier to break than Colby. You knew you’d pushed them to their patient limits today and lowkey hoped Sam came first for the punishment.

“You’ve been very naughty, y/n.” Colby’s voice echoed through your ears as a smirk spread across your face.

“I would say I’m sorry… but I’m not.” You said cheekily.

“And now she’s back talking?” Sam said with a scoff of disbelief. Your eyes fell wide as you hadn’t heard the both of them arriving.

Colby smirked at Sam before slowly walking around to stand in front of you. Your eyes still facing forward, not looking up at him. Colby slowly placed his fingers below your chin, lifting your gaze to meet his. “You tried to make us compete for you, y/n… and that is our number one rule…” Colby said his voice low.

You tried so hard to fight back a smile, “I’m sorry…” you said softly.

Sam sighed from behind you, as you began to walk around to join Colby, “you can apologise by being a good girl for us… now get onto the bed and keep that pretty little mouth shut.” Sam said, his voice demanding and dominant, taking you by surprise. Damn, you really had pushed all their buttons. ‘Oh shit.’ You thought to yourself. You nodded before stand up and climbing onto the bed, sitting in the centre facing the boys who were now stripping down to their underwear.

“Lie down.” Colby demanded as you instantly laid your head back. Your heart beating a million miles per minute as you stared up at the ceiling.

Suddenly, both Sam and Colby appeared either side of you. Restraints in hand. “We had no control today…” Colby said with a slightly annoyed tone.

“I thinks it’s time we reimplemented who is in control here.” Sam continued as your body squirmed at their touch. You nodded slowly as they took one arm, and one leg each wrapping your wrists and ankles in the leather, strapping each of your limbs to a corner of the bed. You tried to close your legs, your thighs desperate to squeeze together as your panties grew even wetter, but it was no use.

Colby stood tall as he walked back up to your head, a red satin blindfold in hand, “you treat us differently.” He said softly as he placed the blindfold over your eyes. “Like we’re polar opposites.”

You swallowed hard full of a mixture of excitement and nerves.

“So I think we should show you, the effect polar opposites can have on you.” Sam said with a smirk.

Sam and Colby looked at each other before nodding with smiles. “What’s your safe word?” Colby asked as your breath shook.

“Red.” You whispered.

“Louder.” Sam said firmly sending shivers down your entire body.

You obeyed instantly, “red.” You spoke clearly.

“Good girl.” Sam said softly.

Colby picked up a candle from the dresser that you had lit. He walked over to the bed as Sam bit his lip, ready to watch the pleasure radiate through your body. “Sam… I think our little slut here needs her pussy eaten.” Colby said as Sam licked his lips. “She’s so desperate, look at her.” Sam couldn’t help but smile at your squirming body, stretched out across the bed as your knees tried their hardest to close.

“Always so desperate.” Sam said as he moved to the bottom of the bed, between your restrained legs. Sam looked up at your panties, he could see just how wet you were through the Lacey material. “Such a slut, you’ll do anything for us to fuck you senseless.” Sam smirked as he spoke watching how his words made your clit ache even more.

Colby leaned down by your head as he spoke softly, “do you want Sam to taste you, baby?” He asked. You nodded your head as Colby shook his, “words baby. Tell Sam exactly what you want.”

Sam’s hands suddenly touched your legs, as he slowly dragged them higher and higher, across your thigh towards your pelvis. “P- please Sammy. Please taste me.” You begged. You could feel your core pulsating at the thought of it.

Sam looked up at Colby from between your thighs as Colby nodded. Sam wasted no time, moving your panties to the side and connected his lips with your clit, sucking and swirling his tongue instantly.

Your back arched off the bed in pleasure, the feeling of Sam’s mouth working away on your core was like a dream.

“Fuck baby, you are soaked…” Sam groaned against your core as Colby licked his lips at how your body moved.

“You know those photos got me all hot baby…” Colby said looking at the candle in his hand. “And you’re going to get just as hot and bothered as I was…” Colby bit his lip as Sam’s eyes looked up at him, his mouth still devouring you. “Remember to use your safe word if you need to.” Colby reminded us as suddenly he tilted the candle over your torso. The hot wax hitting your skin as you moaned louder, a string of curse words leaving your mouth. You felt a knot in your stomach as the hot wax trailed down your body and Sam’s tongue entered your core.

“Fuck!” You cried out as Colby looked down on you and Sam gripped your hips, holding you in place.

“You thought you were so smart to tease us…” Colby grunted as he continued to pour once again, “using your body like a little whore.” His voice sent you over the edge, your orgasm hitting you full speed as you suddenly covered Sam’s face in your juices.

“Fuck baby…” Sam gasped as he sucked you up, “little warning next time?”

You breathed heavily as your heart beat strong and your body shook uncontrollably, “I’m-I’m so sorry.” You moaned out.

“You will be…” Colby grunted as Sam stood up from between your legs. “I’m going to fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk tomorrow.” Colby said, his voice even lower as his hard cock was finally freed from his boxers.

Colby didn’t give you a chance to recover, he wanted to take out his frustrations in the best way he knew how to, making you cum, again… and again… and again. Colby lined himself up, hovering above you. He suddenly pushed himself deep inside of you as you cried out. “Fuck Colby!” Your eyes rolled to the back of your head beneath the blindfold as your stomach was in knots once again.

Sam walked over to the ice bucket with the champagne, taking out 2 ice cubes. “After all that wax, you must be a little hot there baby…” Sam said with a smirk. Colby groaned loudly as he fucked you. You could hardly take in what Sam was saying as Colby hit your g-spot with his dick every time he pushed deep inside of you.

Sam climbed up onto the bed after removing his boxers, positioning himself up near your head. As Colby pounded into you, Sam took the two ice cubes as your body froze as the two ice cubes were placed on your nipples. “Oh shit!” You cried out, your back arching once again. Sam began to move around your chest, the ice leaving freezing cold trails of water.

“Fuck baby, you feel so good.” Colby groaned as his face scrunched from the pleasure of your walls wrapped around him. He suddenly sat up slightly, positioning himself so he could continue to fuck you whilst grabbing the candle.

“If you’re going to treat us like opposites, then we’re going to treat you with opposites.” Sam breathed heavily as Colby bit his lip starting to pour some of the hot wax once again. The feeling of both the hot and cold touching your body was sending your senses into overdrive, your head becoming lightheaded with pleasure as you moaned louder.

Suddenly you felt that knot about to explode, “fuck… I’m gonna cum!” You cried out, trying to give them warning this time.

Sam suddenly leaned down, the ice pressed back onto your nipples as the hot wax trickled down your stomach, “cum baby. That’s our good girl.”

“Fuckkkk.” You groaned as you came once again, your body exploding into a whole new world of ecstasy.

“That’s it baby.” Colby groaned louder, but he didn’t stop, he continued to pound into you at a strong pace, not allowing you a second to cool down. “Now be a good girl and open up for Sam.” Colby demanded as you parted your lips. You could cry from the feeling they were giving you, the pleasure, the passion, the overwhelming mix of emotions.

Sam positioned his cock against your lips, “wider.” He said his voice horse. You quickly dropped your jaw as Sam pushed the head of his cock into your mouth, “fuck, princess.” He moaned.

Colby watched as Sam began to fuck your mouth as you continued to get thrusted into by him. “God she’s such a slut for us Sam” Colby said between moans.

“She’s our slut… our girl.” Sam moaned as he pushed his cock further into your mouth hitting the back of your throat.

Colby threw the candle aside as he picked up a vibrator that rested on the edge of the bed. He turned it on full whack immediately as he quickly put it against your throbbing clit. You moaned louder against Sam’s cock as he threw his head back from the feeling. Out of nowhere a surprise orgasm hit you like a ton of bricks as you squirted all over Colby's cock. He pulled out for a moment as you sprayed him and covered the sheets, leaving a puddle.

“Fuck baby girl.” Colby said as he breathed heavily, his eyes wide at the sight. He suddenly re-entered you as he began thrusting harder and faster than ever, the vibrator instantly back in place. Your body was exhausted, you were afraid of how much more it could take.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum… and you’re going to swallow every bit.” Sam said as he ran his fingers into your hair. You nodded slowly, hardly able to move from the lack of control on your body.

“Me too.” Colby grunted louder as he pounded fast. “One more time baby, you can do it.” He said as he pressed the vibrator harder against your clit. You felt as you walls clenched around Colby once again, your back arching off the bed as Sam leaned across and grabbed a handful of ice cubes, dropping them all onto your body as you cried out louder.

Sam twitched in your mouth, “fuck…” he ground as he suddenly came filling up your through with his hot cum. He pulled out slowly as you lifted your head slightly to swallow. “That’s a good girl.” Suddenly your body was once again filled with pleasure from head to toe, your entrance begging for some relief, for a break as you came once again.

“Fuck Colby! Cum… please cum!” You cried out. As Colby looked up at your scrunched up face.

“You got it princess.” He grunted as he pounded deeper into you one last time fucking you harder than ever, he was right, there was no way you were going to be able to walk. “Fuck y/n.” He shouted as he pulled out spilling his cum all over your lower stomach.

Everything went silent. Apart from the sounds of you all panting. Sam instantly jumped off the bed, grabbing a towel to clean you off. You couldn’t help it, you completely disappeared, reverting into sub space. Your mind escaping to a place of quiet, happiness and calm. Your body lay still, your heart pounding. “Are you okay baby?” Sam said but you didn’t respond. He looked at Colby, they both knew exactly what was happening before they both jumped into action unbuckling the restraints and your body was completely limp.

Colby kneeled next to you on the bed, taking the blindfold off slowly, “baby?” He said softly, but your eyes looked as though you were no longer there. He looked up at Sam, this has happened before but it never worries them any less.

Sam crouched the other side as he took your hand, “y/n… y/n can you hear me? Tap once for no, twice for yes.” He said concerned.

Suddenly he felt two small taps on his hand from your index finger. They both sighed in relief. Colby reached up to stroke your hair as he used his other hand to take yours. “Do you want us to take you upstairs, princess?” He smiled as he felt two small taps on his hand.

Sam jumped up, grabbing a blanket as he wrapped it around you, your whole body no longer in action. Inside your mind, you knew what was happening but it was as though you completely disconnected from your body. Colby picked up, bridal style, the blanket wrapped rightly around you. He walked you up to your bedroom, he slowly lowered you to the bed, beneath the covers. “Do you want us to leave you baby?” He asked reluctantly as he knew sometimes you preferred to be alone when you went into subspace. Suddenly he felt a small tap on his hand. No, thank god. Colby climbed into bed with you, as Sam entered the room, water and food in hand ready for when you came back to them. Colby place you on his chest as Sam climbed in the bed on the other side of you. He leaned down kissing your cheek.

“Do you still love us, baby?” He said with a smirk as he always did when this happened, he chuckled as he felt two taps. “Good.” He kissed you once more before sitting against the headboard as Colby did, your hand held tightly in his.

“Take your time baby…” Colby whispered, “we’ll be here when you’re ready.” He kissed the top of your head as you tapped the both of them twice. Sam and Colby looked at each other with a sigh, as even though you loved the sex you all had, they always felt guilty when this happened. No matter how many times you tell them it’s not their fault.

Sam picked up the remote control as he headed onto Netflix and began to play your comfort movie. Both of them holding tightly onto your hands as your head lay comfortably on Colby’s chest. “We love you.” Colby said, honestly.

“So much.” Sam added as you tapped them both twice. You laid there, allowing your body to relax ready for you to come back to reality.

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[myszie]

I think your Tutor likes being called a Good Boy

Sub!Matt x reader

Trigger warning - Smut, Dom/Sub dynamics, Throat play, major Corruption kink, maybe Dub!con, degradation.

MDNI

First time writing smut, constructive criticism please!!!

Matt fidgets with his pencil, hands roughly bundled in his lap, You’re supposed to carry over the power” he mumbles, his words terse. I look up at the boy sitting across from me in the prickling sweltering heat of the school library, “Matttt I swear you’re writing in another language at this point” I murmur exasperated, lips drawn into an exaggerated pout.

Matt shifts in his seat - red flush coating his porcelain skin, as he reaches over to correct my mistake. “It’s not hard, you’re just not doing it properly” he adds attempting to joke and look away from my face, and the way my skin shimmers in the heat….so mundane yet so provocative. “You whore, why must you attack me like that” I laugh back tugging at my thin tee so it it doesn’t stick to my body. Not hearing a reaction, and worrying I pushed too far, I lean into Matt only to see him squirming in his lap as diverts his gaze from the dip of my collarbone.

“You don’t look so good Matty….its too hot in here…wanna study in my car?” I offer cooing at the boy as I help him gather his things, perfectly disguising the ways my hands linger as I help him put stuff in his bag.

The boy shuffles behind me, his hands firmly plastered to the front of his body…the heat, your lips and the ways your words were just on the precipice of his desire. Watching Matt struggle ever so much under my gaze, the battle behind clinging to his perfect image is downright tempting. Like a white canvas begging for colour, begging to be ruined.

“Does that feel better?” I murmur, softly rubbing his thighs, to comfort him of course and not anything else. The hitch in his breath is loud and clear within the silence of the car, but I’m more than happy to indulge in this game of cat and mouse a bit longer. “The heat was really getting you huh?” I coo again, this time pressing a cold beer near his jugular. “Mhm this should help the flush” I say smirking slightly as I hover over the boy, but seeing his blush darken and eyes look wide and dazed…my temptation peels and I can’t help but dip the bottle lower…near his chest.

Matt gasps biting his lips, “Yea that feels…better” he manages to force out even though the ice did nothing to calm the raging hard on he was packing. He was too far gone at this point, he needed you to keep touching him. “I think I know what will feel really good though Matty, what hill help ……this” I whisper in his ears as I drag the cold beer bottle close to his navel. Matts eyes widens and before he can process what you’re proposing, I pull my hands back and settle in my chair acting nonchalant. “Feel better Matty?” I lilt, stressing the syllable. Matt eyes turn to mine, completely wide and his chest heaves as his brain tries to cope with the fact that he hadn’t just imagined your hands near his cock.

I stare back at him, a challenge and invitation clear in my eyes, “No…need help” he finally murmurs out his words stressed and broken. “Mhm you were quite rude you know, you should ask me nicely” I rasp as I let my hands and nails ghost over the skin of his thigh. Matt hands ball in his laps as his body shakes under my touch, “please help me…please” he finally manages and I smile my touch getting bolder as it palms the bulge in his pants. “Help you do what bunny?” I say smirking, having fun while breaking down matts composure. “Touch me please” Matt moans his hips rising up as they grind up into my hands.

Smirking I’m immediately on him, straddling his heaving frame in the small car. My red manicured hands grasp both sides of his face, as I look into his eyes….”You thought you were being subtle huh, palming your dick in the library like a slut” I rasp roughly kissing his perfectly pouty laps. Matt all but whimpers as his hips ground up to mine, moving desperately for friction. I squeeze his mouth, “Open” and spit in his mouth as he spreads open his mouth, “god such a desperate slut, now swallow” I say licking a line of sweat down the side of his neck. I’m well aware of the fact by this point he’s practically humping me, but I let him…he was too pure yet to ruin completely and besides I didn’t wanna reveal all my cards.

“You desperate boy, I thought you needed me to touch you, but here you’re more than happy humping me like a Rabid bunny in heat….fuck perfect Matt is such a little slut…doing all this when anyone can see the fucked out look on your face” I tease my hands grasping his throat as I too grind down on him. Matt tries to answer, his words muffled in moans and I laugh, “You don’t gave permission to speak doll” I say biting his lips.

Matt is all but reduced to to heap of grunts and moans, his hips chasing the rhythm of mine. Feeling himself get closer, he can’t help but moan out, “Fuck feels so good” as he cums in his pants against the heat of my centre. I ride him through his orgasm drawing out the sensitivity, until I address him with a hard glare.

“I said you’re not allowed to speak doll”

Y’all want part 2? I’m not sure?

Tag list

@chr1sgirl4life @sturniolos-bae @sturnsfave @somegirlfromasgard @solarsturniolo @vecnasnose0 @ev3rgreenxtrees @sleepysturnss @namelesssaviour @lov3burns @tillies33ssss @sturnpooks @ladyvenera @malirosee @sluttformatt @yo123itsme @hypnotizedsturn @stellarsturns @lolasturniolo @namelesssav

#matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets #nick sturniolo #matthew sturniolo

[holdinbacksecrets]

your writing makes me feel safe, thank you. if i could request something? it’s totally ok if you aren’t comfortable but i was wondering how you think seventeen would react seeing their s/o’s self harm scars? but not the act of doing it; i’ve just been feeling a bit unworthy because of my own from my past and my mind wandered (but absolutely no worries if this is out of your comfort zone. i know self harm scars can be a trigger for sure (and you don’t have to reply in that case either)) <3 thank you either way

thank you for sharing kind words and requesting! i'm sorry for taking over a year to answer this... hopefully you still see this >.< i also hope my interpretation of your request is ok. sending you all my love 🥺 i hope you’ve been feeling better these days. you’re deserving of all the good things

seventeen: seeing your self harm scars for the first time

tw: mentions of self harming (no details of the act itself) and scars

seungcheol: he’d trace them with his lips, allowing his love to sink into the scars and caress their edges. he’d ask if they still hurt—if the memories are still piercing

jeonghan: “you turned your scar into a butterfly?” “yeah, it always made sense to get a tattoo, and it’s a reminder that pain and discomfort are fleeting. i’m never stuck.” “you’ve always had a thing for flying, haven’t you?” “yoon jeonghan, i’d exchange my arms for wings if i could.” “you’ll need me for so much more than reaching things on the highest shelf.” “you’re right… not the most practical idea.”

joshua: walks with you through the park after seeing the small x on the kitchen calendar, marking the passage of another year, and the feeling is overwhelming as painful memories flood your mind

jun: “so these aren’t from a bike wreck?” “i can’t believe you remember that…” “everything you tell me… i can’t forget anything.” “it was only our second date. i didn’t want to scare you away.” “you wouldn’t have, but i understand why you worried. i wish you didn’t have to.” “what do you think you would’ve said? would’ve thought?” “i would’ve admired you. i can’t imagine that’s an easy thing to share with anyone, let alone a person you just started dating. i would’ve felt honored that you trusted me with something so… intimate, something that leaves room for conclusions being made that you aren’t in control of.”

soonyoung: he asks if you’re ok now and immediately wonders if that was too simplistic of a question, but he means it. he wants to know if you wake up and feel peace or dread. he wants to know about the cracks in your smile. he wants to know if you’re proud of yourself now. if you were before. if he can do anything to make the dreadful moments with forced smiles easier

wonwoo: thank you for being here is the last thing you hear before drifting off, carried away by a current of warm dreams

jihoon: he cries for you and his childhood friend with similar scars. a man he hasn’t seen in years but thinks about the last week of every october—reminded of his birthday, hoping he’s celebrating well

seokmin: he holds you. he doesn’t want to let go until his tears have stopped. he doesn’t want you to know that the thought of you harming yourself pierces his heart, stops his breath, stays heavy on his shoulders, and keeps him awake while you sleep

mingyu: he wants you to know that no feeling you meet will ever scare him away. you don’t need the reminder, but he tells you anyway: you can always come to me. he will be your solid ground, the maker of comforting words and sweet distractions

minghao: will you believe him if he says you’re the strongest person he knows?

hansol: he doesn’t know what to say, and he’s suddenly afraid of his ability to support you. he hopes you can’t tell because this moment isn’t about him. the last thing he’d ever want is for you to turn to another if he’s unable to give you what you need. “it’s ok. you don’t have to have the perfect words. they don’t exist. i just want you to know. i’m so much better now. i’ve never been happier, truly, but the words were starting to itch and pull me out of present moments. summer’s coming, and i know you’ll see them soon. i just want you to know.”

seungkwan: so many questions roll around in his head. they stick to the back of his throat, and he searches your eyes for any signs of the capacity you have for sharing in this moment. you smile softly and offer a nod of encouragement. he takes a deep breath and asks the first one

chan: “do you ever…” “think about doing it again? i do, but i made a list of things to do instead.” “can i hear it?” “make tea, watch the sky, turn music on, call a friend, think about something yummy to make for my next meal, ride the train and stop as close as i can get to the library… i have a playlist of seventeen videos on my phone too.” “you’ve thought about it that recently? y/n…” “i didn’t make the playlist for that purpose alone. it started out of missing you, but i know it’ll help if i start to slip.” “you can always call me. call me first and call again if i don’t answer.”

#seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen blurbs #seventeen fluff #seungcheol scenarios #jeonghan scenarios #joshua scenarios #jun scenarios #soonyoung scenarios #wonwoo scenarios #jihoon scenarios #seokmin scenarios #mingyu scenarios #minghao scenarios #hansol scenarios #seungkwan scenarios #chan scenarios

[talkfantasytome]

Glasses

A teeny, tiny drabble so that I could participate and do something for @nestaarcheronweek despite my crazy, hectic life. I've always imagined that Nesta wears glasses for work or reading or something, and that it drives Cassian absolutely nuts. I wish I had more time to make this more, maybe some day, but for now, I give you Cassian appreciating Nesta in glasses. 💕

Am I still good to swing by to bring your key back?

Yep! Working from home and have no more meetings today. Come by whenever you want, no need to knock.

Cassian smiled at the words flashing across his screen as he reached the windowed door that revealed the doors to the two apartments in Nesta's converted townhouse. Nesta had already told him twice that he could come by any time after noon today, but he let his nerves get the better of him and he had to check just one last time. Even if he was already on her street.

"How are you already here?" the silky sharp voice of his girlfriend asked, carrying easily down the stairs as he opened the door to her apartment.

Cassian chuckled, closing the door and locking it behind him. "Couldn't get to you fast enough, sweetheart," he called up as he began to climb. It was a steep staircase. And dark. He hated it. Nesta could really hurt herself on it, and that was something he wouldn't be able to handle. Cassian dreaded the day he got a call telling him she'd fallen down these damn stairs.

Reaching the main floor, he set the keys down on the tall table in front of him just as a large, cream furball let out a loud hiss.

"Even after feeding you for a week, you still hate me?" he muttered, bending down to see if Ataraxia would sniff at his fingers. The furry little beast lifted his nose up and sauntered away from Cassian like a little prince. "Your cat is a spoiled brat," he said, walking down the small hall toward where he knew Nesta would be working in her large living room.

"As he should be," she replied.

Cassian walked into the room and suddenly the world felt lighter as he laid his eyes on his girlfriend for the first time in a week. Staring intently at the computer screens in front of her, all he could really see was her delicate frame and the golden brown hair tied back in her typical coronet style.

He took a step toward her, going to give her a quick kiss on the cheek, and then paused in his tracks as Nesta turned in her chair to look at him.

There, resting on top of her perfect nose, was a pair of rounded-square glasses in a dark frame. They weren't exactly hipster glasses - too small for that - but they were a similar shape that sat perfectly in Nesta's face.

Nesta was always the most beautiful woman in the room, always sharp and stunning and obviously intelligent. So Casssian wasn't sure exactly what it was about these glasses, but they took his breath away. Perhaps he was more attracted to librarians than he realized. Or maybe it was just Nesta, looking absolutely stunning in everything, and adding new fantasies about glasses Cassian never thought he'd desire.

"Wh…what are those?" he asked like an idiot, pointing to her face.

Nesta let out a small laugh. "My glasses? I wear them for work. They're just blue-light lenses, they keep me from getting a headache when staring at a screen for a long time."

"They're-"

"A necessary nuisance."

"-phenomenal." Nesta blushed at Cassian's last word, turning back to the computer screen.

Cassian wanted to riot, just as he always did when Nesta looked away from him. It should be illegal, for him not to be able to look upon her face. But especially now. Who knew wen he'd get to see her in glasses again? He needed to find a way to save himself from this withdrawal, and he knew just the thing. "Don't you get a lunch hour?" he asked softly, stepping closer to Nesta and leaning his chin on her shoulder.

"Yes…" she answered slowly, turning her face to look at him.

He grinned. "Great. So why don't you log off but keep those glasses on and join me in the bedroom?"

Before Nesta could answer, Cassian left a kiss on her neck and sauntered to the back of the apartment, smirking as her heard soft footsteps following him.

If you'd like to be added to my taglist, let me know!

@live-the-fangirl-life @generalnesta @secretlovelybeauty @julemmaes @boredserpent @autumnbabylon @moodymelanist @sv0430 @nesquik-arccheron @gwynrielsupremacy @katekatpattywack @moonstoneriver77 @swankii-art-teacher @lemonade-coolattas @emily-gsh @my-fan-side @champanheandluxxury @imsointobooks @sayosdreams @simpingfornestaarcheron @perseusannabeth @shinya-hiiragi @a-court-of-milkandhoney @pintas3107 @embersofwildfire @superspiritfestival @thewayshedreamed @lunabean @xstarlightsupremex @mis-lil-red @wannawriteyouabook @dealfea @bridgertononmymind @daydreamer-anst @chosenfamily-valkyriequeens @hiimheresworld @c-e-d-dreamer @kale-theteaqueen @charming-butt-insane @charliespringsleftconverse

#nessian #nesta archeron #nesta x cassian #cassian #just fluff #fluff #acotar #a court of thorns and roses

[neet-elite]

↳ EVENT 04. Whitney & Sebastian (Jealousy Sex)

Pairing: Sebastian / F!Reader / M!Whitney Genre: Smut 18+ WC: 2,380 Warnings: crossover, meta, name calling, degradation, threesome, double penetration, creampie Prompt(s): 06 — jealousy sex Wanna take part in the event?: CLICK HERE!!

A/N: my first crossover post ever? tbh, a few of you have asked for crossovers! so im looking forward to trying to execute them well enough LOL... i've never done this before, so please be gentle... but thank you for the interesting challenge!! i enjoyed exploring this topic a lot MWAH!!

Laying in bed with you plus a stranger on your other side was never something he'd ever dreamed of, let alone allow to happen. But, tonight is a special case if there ever was one, a necessity, really. Possessively pinching at your cheek to bring your attention back to solely him for a second, a vain attempt to assert dominance over your free time. His nose wrinkles in judgement at the man behind you, dissatisfied with the turn of events of tonight as you writhe between two men, a burning in his heart urging him to speak before the other steals the spotlight; and perhaps even you, given how there's a whole other side to you he's yet to be privy to.

Which only really makes his words harsher, tongue spitting venom aimed mostly for the other man at your backside, sickeningly insidious in his intent given the faux sweet tone he adopts.

And yet needs must.

"Tell me, babe—" He cuts himself off with a moan, the feeling of your cunt walls wrapping around him even tighter as soon as he speaks leaves him a little breathless. Dirty words caught in his throat when your gaze meets his for just a second; enough for him to recognise how fucked silly you already are between two men, before your eyes roll prettily to the back of your head. Bit off more than you can chew, pretty? "Have you— fuck— have you made a decision yet?" He doesn't mean to sound so impatience, biting down on his tongue else he'll spill even more filth your way.

It's just that he's never felt you this tight before, though that might be due to the fact that you've got two cocks inside of you right now. The feeling of Whitney's rubbing against his own every time they pass each other in tandem strokes feels so fucking good; maybe only made better from the ego fuelled jealousy resting thick in his stomach for you. He's not stupid, and he knows you probably don't have the mental capacity to respond to him right now, but instinct begs him to at least try and steal you away. The weight of two fat cocks inside of your tiny little cunt must be difficult to deal with, right baby? Copious amounts of precum drooling from your abused little hole, squished cruelly between two hard bodies and used in such a selfish competition of pride.

"Isn't it fuckin' obvious." Whitney grunts behind you, prompting Sebastian to roll his eyes in annoyance. Or was it in pleasure of your cunt sucking his cock off so well at the sound of another mans voice? He'll never truly know, tongue poking out to wet his lips before they hang open in a soft gasp when you're rocked forward and more into his arms with how hard Whitney snaps his hips into you. The lack of care for your pretty self coming from the man behind you irks him, especially when you do very little to fight back against the rude touch tugging at your ass, pulling at your waist to hump the cock behind you. In fact, it looks like you like it, grabbing and scratching at Sebastian's front for some semblance of reality. Silly girl, you'll find no such thing here.

And in any case, what right does this guy have over you, really? Who is he to tell him what you, his long term girlfriend, prefers. At the very least, he understands that you'll be gone from his existence for various lengths of time, unable to see him due to 'real life', or whatever. But he'd never imagined you'd be visiting other men when he was waiting so patiently for you to return back to the valley. Isn't he enough for you? Didn't you say that Stardew Valley was your favourite place to be?

Upset not at the clear cut infidelity, but more so at the fact that you thought you could escape him simply by jumping from game to game. No, no; it's expected that you'd find others. Different men to cuddle up to, stranger guys who no doubt make you feel differently to how he does— but there's gotta be a similar thread running throughout your choices, right? Something consistent between himself and the brute behind you stuffing you so full of cock that even he himself feels like he's choking with every thrust. Holding on tight to your arm as you lay on your side before him, his other arm hooked under your neck to keep you safe and secure as you're mad to rock between two tips.

Him, comparable to Whitney? Now that's insulting.

Why you'd ever choose to date someone as characterised by their bullying as Whitney is is beyond him. The pretty pout you wear when Whitney grabs at your throat only stokes the fire in his tummy too, a thick layer of bile resting on top at the way he gets glared at by the other man with possession written all over his expression. And Sebastian only knows it as such because he worn the same look with you time and time again, determined to prove his worth to you now more than ever to hopefully keep you around for longer than whoever else you might be seeing. To bring you back to your favourite game again.

Deciding to ignore the honestly annoying man challenging his position by your side, Sebastian instead tries to appeal to your morals. Deceptively digging into your yearning for comfort that he knows you need more than anything else. It's why you're with him in the first place, right?

"I missed you so much." He nuzzles into you; or as much as he can given how violently you're bouncing between them, how fast he has to pick up his pace to match Whitney's unfair rhythm. It's making him a little dizzy, to be honest. Desire pooling in his tummy for you and the broken sobs his cock fucks out of you. The pathetic whines, almost babbles of something resembling begs that Whitney thrusts out of you. Pretty little overwhelmed baby, isn't this what you wanted when you had suggested a little test? Given his earlier argument with Whitney over who you preferred, wasn't it you who suggested some friendly competition? And now look at you, all sobs and shivers, a coo automatically rolling off his tongue when he nestles closer to you, his lips ghosting over your own in a yearning to claim you as his. "I'm here, 'm not going anywhere, baby." He promises you, disarmingly imploring you to reach out for him, his hands firm on your soft body for stability while he fucks his whole length in and out of your overstuffed cunt. Bet it's so sore, isn't it? Need a little help distracting yourself from every balls deep thrust he offers you, don't you? The sound of wet skin on skin causing his cock to tremble against Whitney's fat length inside of you, your lewd moans filling his ears with every hump of his tip against your most sensitive parts inside.

Inching closer, he plants his lips on yours. A sloppy mix of saliva, promising you that he'll come out victorious by the time he's done with you, imagining the sight of you limping into his arms instead of Whitney's so he can whisk you away back to the valley where you belong— except in doing so, he inevitable ends up stuttering his hips inside of you to the thought of punishing you for even insinuating that he might be a second place choice in your life. But is it even punishment if you'd be enjoying yourself, much like how you are now? Gasping into his open mouth, spilling moan after moan thanks to Whitney's pounding from behind. Fuck, he can even feel the way your body positively vibrates from enjoyment against him, rendered useless and unable to effectively kiss him back, tongue lolling out of your wanting mouth for him to suck on a lil. Just a little, because if he were to do anything more than that, then he's more than likely about to cream your cunt full, thinking it's just so fucking cute that you've been fucked truly stupid on two cocks.

"Pair of sluts—" Whitney laughs from behind, but Sebastian doesn't miss the undeniable crack in his counterparts voice. The hint of shakiness present only because you're so fucking tight and feel so fucking good that there's no room to do anything other than melt into you. Like some sort of horny amalgamation, sweat and sticky and heat, drool and other bodily fluids shared all in the name of rivalry. To try and win your utmost attention and affections, and to successfully pull you back into your preferred setting, favoured game, and most important love interest.

He knows what's at stake, and as such, removes himself from your lips to instead suckle on your neck— where Whitney might prefer bite marks and bruises, he's intent on leaving behind gentle love bites as his mark on you. His fingers slipping from your body from sweat, humping his trembling cock into you in short snap thrusts; just how he knows you like. And God he has no choice but to muffle a moan against your skin when Whitney favours longer strokes inside. Fast but deep, the feeling of rubbing his needy cock just as much against your plush insides as he is against Whitney's girth feels too good, immediately prompting him to dip his hand down intending on rubbing at your clit in sheer desperation not to be the first to cum, only to find Whitney already doing so— fuck he feels too good to argue back. Simply falling further into your soft body, cradling you from harms way despite how your body warms at the degradation, his chest tight at the way you mumble and moan. It's all a bit too much for him, sucking your neck for dear life, a silent plea to be crowned victorious with eager fucks into your overstuffed hole.

Maybe you prefer to be demeaned, right? Bullied into submission, his nails digging into any part of your pretty exposed body he can reach, fumbling around in a tangled heap of limbs as Whitney attempts to grab your attention too— though the latter seems to hold his composure better when it comes to your angel cunt. "Such a good slut, aren't you? C'mon, tell me how y'really feel."

But the slur in Whitney's words is enough to let Sebastian know that he isn't the only one close, not so much fucking you now as he is just trying to hold back for you. Muscles taut and jaw tight, gritting into the sticky feeling of your cunt, slick coating his length just as much as precum does, how the mixture drips down to his balls to stain the sheets below. To cum first would be sooo embarrassing, wouldn't it? Especially when he's doing his utmost to prove himself to you, to try and coax you back to the valley, and not whatever universe Whitney is from. It's where you belong, at the end of his leaking tip every night for him to bully into you over and over again, even if right now he can do no such thing— unlatching from your neck just to spill sweet praises for you, and to hopefully disallow you from answering Whitney's burning question. Deep down he knows you're gonna say his name anyway, or at least hopes is the case, the way your glassy eyes haze over his almost pained features, drool dripping from your tongue every time he presses his cock inside. You wear the fucked out expression so well, pretty baby getting fucked by two big cocks, is it more than you can handle?

It's okay, because from the way your body shakes under his fingertips, the tell tale tremble inside your pretty little angel cunt, how your voice almost goes missing in your silent gasps for more— he knows that you're close too. And, frustratingly, Whitney can gather about just as much also— how long have you been seeing him? "Already?" Whitney sneers, unsure of who it's more aimed at, but Sebastian hasn't the strength to fight back. Not for himself, and certainly not for you. Too lost in the way your cunt practically begs him for more, his hips instinctively fucking into you as if it were his only purpose in life. Messy and clumsy humps fill you up, almost as if he were getting fucked by Whitney alongside you, but fuck he can't help it. The weight of your body pressed tight against his own as Whitney takes a more dominating stance, effectively fastening Sebastian under you as you get mounted from behind is intoxicating, your puffy clit surely rubbing nicely against his groin from the new position and—

Well, he's got no hope of holding back when he feels your full little hole spasm around him. Orgasm washing over you as you fall into his chest, moaning directly down his ear as you wrap your arms around his neck and hold on for dear life. Sebastian too holds onto you, arms wrapped around the small of your back, pressing you down onto his cock for him to offer you merger little fucks up and into your heat. And fuck it feels so good, fat load shooting against your deepest parts, turning his cock all sticky as it gushes around inside, against Whitney's cock, and gets pushed out of your cute cunt with every extra thrust. He barely gets a chance to calm down providing Whitney's uncharacteristically kind slower pace, letting you ride out your high just enough before the brutality begins again.

"Well, what d'ya think, slut? Got a favourite yet?" Whitney seethes, clearly holding on to the last remainder of stability he's got as you wail out in hyper sensitivity.

Maybe if Sebastian holds you close to him and whispers sweet nothings down your ear to help settle you back into the unfair fucking you'll favour him. It's the least he could do, seeing as he finished first anyway. Anything to get you back to the valley, and spending time in his world again.

#500 event! #dol #stardew valley smut #sdv smut #dol smut #dol fanfic #sdv sebastian smut #sdv sebastian fanfic #whitney the bully smut #whitney the bully #i forgot other tags oopsie

[gabessquishytum]

tw stepfamily fantasy, age difference. Human AU.

I promise this is Dreamling, stay with me lol

When Time dies, Night is eager to find herself a strapping young husband. Enter Hob, who has heard that the widow Endless is filthy rich. Don't get him wrong, Night IS a beautiful woman, but it's the money he's after. He charms her easily enough, and in less than 6 months they're married and living together in her huge mansion... it's only then that Hob gets to know her kids.

He knew she had 7 of them, of course, but, well, this is a lot. The eldest two seem well-adjusted enough, sort of, but they're early 20's and out of the house already? The youngest boy ran away from home and no one bothered to look for him. Del and Despair aren't getting any mental health care they seem to badly need. And then there's Desire and Dream.

Desire is beautiful and charming and smart as a whip, but they change sexual partners more often than most people do underwear and they're only 16. They love their twin but are awful to their other siblings and downright cruel to Dream.

And Dream... he's a piece of work, yes. But he's pretty. Just as pretty as his sibling, if not more. He's got a bratty cruelty that echoes Desire's but could still be corrected by a firm hand... He mocks Hob mercilessly for his humble origins and because Hob married for money, and to Dream's heartless mother of all people! He's so closed off to affection, shouts at Hob even while bursting into tears when Hob tells him Hob could at least be a friend to him, since 34 is a bit young to be a father figure to a teen. But oh, Hob can tell: this boy is so, so lonely. Dream wishes someone would take him, even if only for money...

Desire, of course, immediately figures out that Hob isn't actually in love with Night and promply tries to seduce him. Hob gently rejects them, of course, but they try again. And again. And again. And... well. And it's hard. It's really hard to resist them. They're really really beautiful, of course, and they're so good at this... but Hob's one braincell that's still getting blood knows better than to fuck a 16-year-old with that huge a cruel streak. That's just asking for trouble. And besides, Hob likes a challenge. Desire is just... too easy.

Dream, however... what a little temptation he is. He's so reserved. He tries to focus on his art. He tries to pay Hob little mind, but can't help to listen and smile at Hob's tales. He's gotten his heart broken more times than anyone should have any right to at his age, and is just as depressed as Despair and only marginally better at hiding it... Now, that's a challenge. And such an easy target at the same time. Seducing him would be so fun! Hob can just imagine how outraged Dream would be at first... but Hob can be convincing, and Dream so badly needs someone to want him. And Hob is so horny, with Desire touching him all day, whispering filth in his ear, trying to sext him and send him nudes. You see, Night has a pretty low libido, too low if you ask Hob, and Hob's hand is a poor substitute for sex with another person.

Hob doesn't want Night to divorce him, of course, so he's wary of looking for sex outside the house, afraid to get caught if he's out too long with no explanation (he doesn't need to work now after all) and he wouldn't stoop so low as to take advantage of the house staff...

Isn't it so convenient that Dream just turned 18?

-PA

(reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated)

Oh fuck oh FUCK this is hot. AND HEY PA ANON I MISSED YOU <333

Hob feels like he's living inside a powder keg, honestly. He thought that marrying for money and living a life of luxury would be wonderful, but now he even longs for a job that would just get him out of the house. He's trapped in horny hell and he's sure that he's going to do something terrible and/or stupid. As a last ditch attempt, he sweetly suggests to Night that the two of them could take a little vacation - just the two of them, to the gorgeous little tropical vacation spot that the family owns. Death and Destiny can watch over the kids, and Night can have a well deserved break!

Alas, she just smiles and kisses Hob’s cheek. Unfortunately she's far too busy for a holiday right now. But she encourages Hob to go and soak up the sun - he's starting to look pale and stressed, and she can't have her toyboy husband looking under the weather. Her one request is that Hob should take Dream with him. She's noticed that Dream and Desire's fights have been getting more and more serious recently, and she's tired of the screaming matches. Some time apart will be beneficial for the siblings. And it will make Night's life a lot quieter.

Hob can't backtrack now, so he agrees. And he's even more glad to get away, because when Desire finds out that Dream has been sent off on holiday with Hob, they throw an absolute fit. Naked. In Hob’s bedroom. Hob’s single braincell really needs to get out of there.

It's not like Dream is even pleased to be forcibly packed off on holiday with his "step-father". He spends the whole journey in snide silence, occasionally muttering under his breath about Hob being a total creep. (And he's right, because Hob is still shamefully horny about the beautiful 18 year old. He nearly embarrasses himself completely when Dream grabs his hand because they hit turbulence.)

But it's funny how you can hate someone and still want to fuck them. Older men were always Desire's territory, but Dream is starting to see the appeal. He's starting to think that his mother is a fool for letting Hob out of her sight. When he catches his first glimpse of Hob on the beach in his swimwear, Dream makes up his mind: he's going to be a bad person.

Hob fucks him for the first time on the beach-house balcony. There are stars above them, possibly - Dream doesn't really recall. He's sure that Hob recalls even less. He's desperate, primal, unhinged. He cums, and just keeps going until both of them are exhausted. Obviously somebody needs to take care of him properly, if this is how wound up he gets.

Well. The Endless family have always been fucked up. This is just another chapter in the story. Maybe Night will even be grateful to her son, for keeping her husband happy...

#the sandman #dreamling #nsft #cw toxic relationship #cw dubcon #cw dubious consent #cw stepcest #cw age gap #tagged dubcon because of age issues only.

[writing-whump]

Hey! I'm new around Tumblr and since the first day I found your blog.. I'm literally obsessed with your fictions!! Love the fictions, characters... I think you're one of the bests 💕💕Especially, I love Hector and Isiah, bromanceee!💖

Umm, when you have time and done with the fics on your list, would you consider a new one about Hector who's reeeally sick with high fever (and some other symptoms which is totally up to your imagination) and Isiah taking care of him?? I'd really love to read that!

♡Thank you with sharing these characters and world with us!

Hello nonny and welcome! That's so sweet of you to say, thank you so much🥰💕 This really fit as continuation for sick feverish Hector after his appendicitis operation, so here you go 😊

Appendicitis Aftermath

Arnie was biting his nails. Isaiah was seriously considering if he shouldn't point it out, because it was climbing up his fried nerves.

Arnie sat in the backseat, without a seat belt so he could hover in the middle between Isaiah behind the wheel and Hector.

One would say Isaiah would be used to being called to a crisis with his brothers in the middle of the night by now. However, it didn't get easier with practice.

Arnie was nearly in tears, mumbling about Hector, an operation, and an unruly shadow, which sent Isaiah into a panic. Turned rather anticlimactic when he arrived at the hospital.

Hector had appendicitis. The operation was routine, small, nothing serious. They caught it on time. Except the shadow was a problem. Isaiah was all ready to roll it down for his brother, when the medics came with the idea they could just drug him up with heavy stuff.

Hector was a wolf, meaning he couldn't heal an inflammation, infection, or sickness, but if they took the appendix out, his shadow would be able to heal the wound afterward. He didn't have to stay in the hospital; they even allowed them to take him home.

They needed only to wait for his shadow to recover.

Until then, Hector was stitched up and with bandages over the wound, hurting like any mortal would.

Another quiet crack as Arnie bit into the nail on his forefinger, fidgeting on Isaiah's right.

Hector was pale, holding himself rigidly in the seat. His eyes were closed, but he took those carefully measured breaths that told Isaiah he wasn't asleep.

The car jostled over a bump and Hector hissed quietly, jerking his head.

"Sorry about that. Almost home, buddy," Isaiah said, planting his hand on Hector's leg for a second to reassure him. Hector said nothing, curling onto himself.

"You'll be fine—humans undergo these operations every day and recover well." Arnie leaned in closer, a ball of nervous energy. Surprisingly so, since he slept even less than Isaiah, calling the ambulance at 3 in the morning.

Isaiah understood Arnie was trying to play the situation down, appealing to Hector's pride so he wouldn't let the pain get to him so much, but he didn't think it was currently helping.

Hector was simply in pain—one that wasn't leaving, wasn't getting better, and wouldn't be healed by his shadow for the next 12 hours at the least. This was not a good forecast for a wolf not used to endure pain, but there was no way to play it down.

Isaiah didn't have it in him to admonish Arnie though. His two younger brothers knew each other better than he knew them, he didn't dare. He understood Arnie was stressed out about it - he was even acutely aware of the fact.

One of the reasons why he found sharing his pain, sickness or weakness absolutely unacceptable with his brothers. He would not put Arnie through such an experience if he could help it. He never did, actually.

But he had failed in front of Hector one or two times about that, so he understood that too. Besides, it would probably be healthier to admit it, if they knew how to handle it right.

"Shit," Hector grunted, pressing his forehead against the window, hands gingerly around his stomach, just above the wound. "Stupid fucking medics, taking my shadow away."

"They couldn't work around it," Arnie said defensively, feeling involved in the decision since Hector was unconscious at the time. "It would be like the scene from Spiderman 2. The tentacles of Doc Oc killing everyone. Besides, the meds will wear off quicker than if it got rolled down."

"So glad you got it all planned out," Hector snapped, face white and strained. "Helps a shitton-"

"Alright," Isaiah interjected. "That's enough. Arnie is just trying to help," Isaiah said, giving the youngest a pointed look to just shut up. "Hex, anything we can do for you right now?"

"What would you want to do?!" Hector protested, growl in his voice. "Just want to go freaking home. What are you so slow for?"

Isaiah decided not to mention he was driving slowly because of Hector, to avoid the jostling as much as possible.

"Fucking grandma drives faster," Hector continued under his breath, but his eyes were open and more alert now as he watched the streets glide by the window.

Isaiah was relieved to finally reach Hector's apartment, though he took a deep breath to brace himself for the next part.

Hector put his hands on his knees experimentally, breaths coming in faster. He was scared of the walk.

"Arnie, go in first and open up for us, would you?" Isaiah suggested, for all their sakes. He didn't think struggling in front of Arnie made it any easier, nor was Arnie taking it very well.

Arnie dangled the keys in his hands and hurried out of the car. It swung left and right at the impact of the door slamming shut. Hector moaned quietly, hanging his head over his legs.

Isaiah opened and closed his doors gently, circling around slowly to let Hector prepare for it.

He opened the door and put a hand on Hector's nape. Sweat was clinging to his skin, and he felt warm and feverish.

"It won't be so bad. I'll help you," Isaiah said gently, rubbing his finger up and down on Hector's nape.

Hector straightened up, twitched at the movement, slowly swinging one leg out of the car. "Just-" he gulped, "just give me a minute?"

"Whenever you are ready. Take your time."

Hector closed his eyes for three more long breaths, then opened up with more fight in his eyes. "Okay."

Isaiah hugged him from the side so he could brace Hector's weight against him and pulled him up slowly. He aimed not to have Hector tense any of his stomach muscles to get upright.

Hector wrapped his arm around Isaiah’s neck, taking a fistful of his coat in his hand. He took a shaky breath but didn't protest being pulled up.

Isaiah took two steps to the side to close the door behind them and lock the car up. He wrapped his arm properly around Hector's middle, gripping it at his healthy side, half of his brother's weight on him. "Five minutes and you can lay down," he promised.

They made their way to the elevator, where Hector closed his eyes, slumping even more against Isaiah. "...how many more hours?"

"If we start counting from the moment the IV was removed and take 12 hours as the goal - around 10 hours and 40 minutes to go."

Hector pressed his lips together, murmuring something. "Keep the count for me?" he asked in a low voice, as if he were trying to find a nicer way to say it.

Isaiah readjusted his grip on him as the elevator arrived. "Of course."

Arnie left the door open for them. Isaiah didn't bother with the shoes and coats, dragging Hector to his room.

"Slowly now," he said as he helped him lower himself onto the bed. Getting down was as much of a challenge as getting up.

Hector let out a little groan as he sat down, white as a sheet from the short walk. He hunched over himself but didn't lie down immediately, letting Isaiah undo his shoes.

"It's Best if you just sleep through it," Isaiah said, gently helping Hector lay down against the pillows. He pushed the covers on top. It was a corner bed, so the wall was right next to them to lean on, and there was a TV hanging from the opposite wall.

Hector squirmed under the covers, face one big grimace. "Don't think I can sleep."

"Then let's find some low-energy distractions," Isaiah said. He got rid of his shoes and coat and climbed into the bed beside Hector. "Old movie or new? Something you like and could focus on what be good."

Hector's eyebrows knitted together in puzzlement at Isaiah, but he didn't comment on him inviting himself over.

Hector shifted around with his shoulders, comically lost in the covers. "Zaya? Could I- could you just get me something for this?" He pressed the words through his teeth.

"You are still on the meds from the hospital, there really isn't anything stronger here."

"Yeah, well that sucks," Hector said with a shudder. His hands pushed at the covers, digging into them with his fingers.

"We could try some ice on the wound. And maybe you could drink something?" Isaiah didn't like the sweat on Hector's forehead or the heat radiating from him even just sitting this close.

The doors creaked when Arnie stuck his head in. Isaiah quietly asked him what items to bring and added a thermometer for good measure.

"Is there no trick to this?" Hector said in a strangled voice, looking longingly at Isaiah's human-shaped shadow neatly tucked at the end of the bed without any light to explain the angle.

"Try calling for it as much as possible," Isaiah suggested. "I'm not experienced with drugs and medication, but the more you call it, the faster it tries to get back."

Hector curled up on his side, arms wrapped around his chest like he was cold. His forehead creased in concentration before he gasped for a breath, twisting in the pillows. "Doesn't work. I can't even...it's like reaching for something under the sofa. I know it's there, but I can't touch it." There was a hint of a whine in that sentence.

"Shhhhhhh. Then just let it be for a bit." The worst they could do was to get Hector upset. Isaiah put his hand on Hector's shoulder, almost by the neck, holding him steady as he took deep, ragged breaths.

Arnie tiptoed inside, bringing the ice wrapped in a kitchen towel, a glass of water and a thermometer. His fingertips were all chewed and bloody.

Isaiah sighed and whispered: "Go disinfect that and take a nap. I've got him." With Hector's shadow absent, he couldn't hear them.

Arnie looked at Isaiah with a glassy, scared look as if he weren't sure he really wanted to do this alone. Finally, he nodded. "Call me if you need something."

Hector shuffled under the covers so Isaiah could put the wrapped-up ice on top of the bandages. Hector winced at the contact before leaning back again. "Is he pissed off or something?"

"He is fine. Tired and worried," Isaiah said, sitting down properly against the wall. He turned on the TV, clicking between the channels until he found some kind of Tom Cruise action movie. "Are you sure you don't have a preference?"

"I don't have a list of favorites on the ready," Hector complained. "How the hell do you have time for that?"

Isaiah shrugged. "Movie night on Wednesdays, usually some kind of cinema or movie with Seline during the week and free weekend afternoons."

"What, Seline gives you breaks on the weekends?"

"Kinda. She is always out visiting her parents."

Hector gave him a look. "What? Why?"

"There are apparently parents worth visiting."

Hector frowned, silent for a long minute. Isaiah winced internally. Parents weren't a good topic by a stretch. Not since the whole reveal drama.

Hector rolled his head to look at the TV absently, though now he looked more dazed than focused. Isaiah hoped that was a sign he really would nod off to sleep. There were still 10 hours left.

"It's too freaking warm in here," Hector complained out of a sudden, scrambling up on shaky hands.

"What do you think you are doing?" Isaiah pushed him back, getting out of bed nimbly to open the window. "I'll do it. Just stay put."

Hector lifted himself up on the pillows a little, face scrunching up. "I don't feel well."

Isaiah got back onto the bed. "I know. It will just be a bit longer."

"No, like for real. I don't-" he hiccuped, pressing a hand to his lips. "I feel sick." He looked at Isaiah with wide eyes. "I don't want to throw up. It's hurting like a bitch as it is, Zaya, please-"

"Okay, okay, I got you." Isaiah had no idea what he was doing, but the pleading had his ribcage squeezing like he couldn't get in any air. He helped Hector to sit a bit more upright, leaning him against his side, his own arms wrapped around Hector's chest to hold him up. "Take deep breaths. There is fresh air coming from the window and you got nothing to throw up anyway. Just breathe."

"Make it stop," Hector sobbed, pressing his hands against Isaiah's on his chest. "It hurts."

"I know, buddy, I know. Shhhh. I'm right here." Isaiah held him as tight as he dared. Hector's head, now pressed against his neck, radiated heat like a furnace. No wonder he was so whiny.

"You wouldn't have a problem with something like this," Hector whimpered, a shiver running through him. "You would be fine. Even Arnie would be fine, it's just me-"

"Oh, shut it," Isaiah said sternly. "You are plenty resilient. You train day and night, you think I can't see it? It's like you are made of steel. That's not something you get from a shadow or because you are a wolf. And training is basically pain and learning to accept and like pain, and you got that."

"Then tell me how to do it," Hector demanded, swallowing heavily.

"I told you. Sleep, being comfy, movies, distraction-"

"Yeah, sure, cause that's how you do it. With your training and experience-"

"And you think that's an advantage?" Isaiah blurted out. "After all this time? I got pretty nasty things out of that torture crap too, just so you know. I did it so you wouldn't have to and now you are jealous of it? Jesus fucking Christ."

Maybe that was not the right thing to say at such a time, cause Hector was crying now, big fat tears streaming down his face. "Sorry, I'm sorry..." he hiccuped and then gagged.

Isaiah leaned forward along with him, holding his shoulders from behind as Hector heaved emptily over the sheets and the bed, shuddering with the pain, hands at his side.

"Shhhhhh. It's okay. Take deep breaths now. You are alright," Isaiah repeated over and over.

There was truly nothing for Hector to bring up, so Isaiah leaned back again, pulling Hector after him against his chest again. Thumbing the tears on his cheeks away with his hands, Isaiah's insides shook as if he were the one heaving.

"I'm sorry," Hector whimpered after a while with a sniffle. "I'm really sorry."

Isaiah stared at the ceiling tiredly. "I forgive you." He wrapped his hands snuggly around his brother. "Just don't say shit like that again."

They stayed in heavy silence for a while, Isaiah counting Hector's harsh breaths until they came more rhythmically.

"Tell me something that helps you," Hector said quietly. "Something that matters to you. Something real."

"That will help distract you? Really?" Isaiah said dryly. His chest was hurting at the conversation, at seeing Hector this weak and pained, at the issue being brought up at all.

Hector coiled up into a ball against him, which was the weirdest position since he wasn't a small man in the slightest.

"It helps to imagine it like a circle," Isaiah said into the silence. "A circle around where it hurts, like the pain gets trapped there. Like it can't get further and I can chase it out by cutting it off oxygen, attention, blood stream."

Hector made a little noise at the back of his throat, the side of his face pressing into Isaiah's chest. Over his heart.

"It helps not to be alone. I had to be for a long time, but now I don't and...and it helps, I think."

Hector closed his eyes, nodding against him.

"And the last thing...I don't know if it will work for you..."

Hector tensed against him with a little groan of pain.

"I really do like the movies," Isaiah said.

Hector waited in shocked silence at the words before giving a hoarse little chuckle, snuggling closer. "You are such an ass."

"If you don't pick, I will," Isaiah said, a tentative smile playing on his lips. 

#sickfic #hurt/comfort #emeto #nausea #angst #bromance #werewolf wip #my writing #Hector

[pedroscurls]

chance encounters | pt. 2

character(s): we got all the Triple Frontier boys in this chapter (obvi except Tom). Benny Miller, Will "Ironhead" Miller, Santiago "Pope" Garcia, Frankie "Catfish" Morales, fem!Reader summary: Days blend together and it's become three months since you started training with Benny, and you use fighting and training as a distraction from your grief. It's when you're alone when things become too much. Luckily, Benny books you your first fight and your mind remains focused on winning (rather than dealing with the loss of your best friend). word count: 4.1k a/n: While I do train muay thai/kickboxing, I don't think I'd ever be able to fight (even when sparring in class I'm always so nervous lol), anyway... I hope you guys enjoy. We're going to delve deeper into Reader's grief in the next upcoming chapters and a certain someone might be able to help... warnings: grief (and Reader doing a poorly job at coping with the loss), violence - it's Reader's first fight!, mutual pining between Frankie and Reader series masterlist | ultimate masterlist

It had been three months. Three months since you started training with Benny at his gym. Three months since you started fighting again. 

But that also meant it had been a total of six months since you lost your best friend. They say that days get better, that they get easier, but why does it feel like you haven’t gotten any better at all? You’re stuck in this same pattern where the only joy and excitement you feel is when you step foot into Benny’s gym. When your glove hits the heavy bag. When your leg connects with the pads that Benny holds. But as soon as you leave, you’re back to square one. 

Every morning and every night, you lay in bed and stare up at the ceiling as your mind refuses to shut off. You’re afraid to close your eyes because when you do, all you see is your best friend. You can hear his laugh. You can see his smile. You can imagine him here. 

And you hate it. You hate it because when you do open your eyes, you’re back to reality. You won’t ever be able to hear his laugh or his voice again. You won’t ever be able to see him smile or have him physically here with you. 

All he is now is just a memory, haunting you day and night. 

Benny has been so patient with you and you had gotten to know more about the three men you saw three months ago. The other blue-eyed man turned out to be his older brother, Will. He was quiet and reserved, but just like Benny, whenever he smiled, you felt a sense of comfort and security. 

Then, there was Santiago… or Santi, he liked to say. He was just as outgoing as Benny was and he certainly wasn’t afraid to let you know how attractive he thought you were. It was meant to be a compliment and it would have usually made you blush and smile, but instead, it just earned him a curt nod before you walked past him to start training with Benny. Since then, though, Santiago had always tried to make you smile or laugh and there had been a few times where he succeeded, but as soon as the smile touched your lips or the laugh escaped you, you shut down. It didn’t feel right being happy. 

And lastly, there was Frankie. He was just as quiet and reserved as Will was, but there was something about him that was soft and welcoming. You couldn’t explain it. In fact, he was the only one you hadn’t really spoken to. He liked to keep to himself, but there were certain gestures or actions that made you feel safe with him. He would hand you your duffle bag when you were getting ready to go home, give you a towel when you were drenched in sweat, and he even went so far to order food one night when you had mumbled that you hadn’t eaten all day. 

Today, just like any other day, you step into Benny’s gym. Music is quietly playing and you see all four men wrestling on the mats. It didn’t seem like they were taking it seriously and you can hear their laughter echo the walls of the gym. It makes your heart flutter for a moment because even in the midst of your own grief, these four men managed to sneak into your life and begin to make a home. In fact, you couldn’t even begin to imagine life without them. You knew your best friend would have gotten along with them just fine, especially Benny. And it pains you because your best friend isn’t here to enjoy this with you. 

“Oh, hey!” Santiago calls out, finally being overpowered by Benny as he lands on his back with a thud. “We were just messing around.” 

“And I won,” Benny grins, climbing off of Santiago and standing up. 

“You’re like thirty pounds heavier than I am. Of course you won.” Santiago rolls his eyes, but lets out a chuckle. 

“It’s all about technique,” Benny winks. “Anyway, I thought I had you scheduled to start in an hour.” He says to you. 

“Right,” you sigh. “I just figured I could come in early and hit the bag. If that’s okay?” 

“You sure you won’t be tired?” Will says, sitting up as he and Frankie both try to catch their breaths. “You’re always training. Are you getting any rest?” 

“Trying,” you admit quietly. 

Frankie’s eyes soften immediately. Since the moment he saw you, he could see the sadness in your eyes, the void that is now left within you after finding out that you had lost your best friend. Loss was something he and the rest of the guys were all too familiar with, especially with being in their line of service, but that didn’t make it any easier. Frankie had numbed his grief and his pain with drugs and alcohol that it got to a point where he almost lost everything, he almost lost himself and it was his friends that brought him back to life. It wasn’t easy, but without them, he knew he wouldn’t have made it. 

“Well, we’ll get out of your way. Go ahead and warm up,” Benny says. He and the rest of the guys stand up to give you space on the mat and Frankie is the last one to brush past you. He hears you let out a shaky breath and for a moment he pauses, stands right next to you. 

“Hey, are you–” he quietly begins. 

“Gotta train,” you interrupt, moving past him. 

Frankie sighs and nods, following the rest of the guys towards Benny’s office in the back. Once inside, Benny hands him a bottle of water and sits down on the couch along the wall, glancing over at the door every so often. 

“What’s up, Fish?” Santiago asks, arching a brow. 

“I don’t think she’s okay,” Frankie points out. 

“I’d have to agree with you there,” Benny says. “But if she doesn’t want to share, then we can’t force her. We all know what that’s like. You especially, Fish.” 

Frankie tightens his jaw, running a hand through his unruly curls. “She’s struggling. You guys saw me struggle and still forced me to–”

“That’s because we have history, hermano,” Santiago interrupts. “We’ve only known her for a few months. We can’t just– We can’t just insert ourselves in her life when she’s made it clear that we’re all just… Acquaintances?” 

“I was going to surprise her, think maybe it’ll cheer her up, but I booked her first fight for this Friday.” Benny says. “I think we’re all more than just acquaintances, but it’s her grief and we can’t push her on it.”

Will nods. “We all grieve differently. We all know this. Just give her time. If she wants to talk, she’ll reach out to one of us.” 

“And how are you sure?” Frankie asks.

Santiago, Will, and Benny all share a look with each other before they turn their attention to Frankie. They can all visibly see the concern in his features and it’s only then that they realize that’s probably something more to this. 

“Okay, what’s really going on, Frankie?” Santiago asks. 

“Nothing,” Frankie waves off. “I’m just– We’ve all been in her shoes and we had each other to get us through it.”

“You like her,” Benny slowly grins. “You’ve barely talked to her and you like her.”

“Oh, shut up. I barely know her.” 

Will chuckles. “But you like her?” 

“I’m just trying to be nice, okay?” Frankie sighs. “It’s nothing like that.” 

“You like her,” Santiago chuckles. “To be honest though, she does stare at you a little longer than everyone else.”

Frankie rolls his eyes. “Okay, you know what, I’m leaving.”

“But wait,” Benny chuckles. “You gonna say bye to her?” 

Frankie’s jaw tightens and he playfully punches Benny’s arm, shaking his head. “You guys are assholes.”

“But you love us,” Santiago grins.

“Debatable,” he mumbles. “I just think… Maybe it’d be nice if we got her some flowers or cake or a card? I don’t fuckin’ know.”

“She doesn’t seem like the flowers kind of girl and she can’t have cake.” Benny says. “A card might be a good start," he teases. 

“Great, you’ll be in charge of that, Fish,” Santiago winks. 

“Bye,” Frankie says with a shake of his head as he leaves Benny’s office. He walks down the hallway and hears the sounds of the bag and exhaled breaths. He sees you hitting the bag with such speed and precision; Benny was right. You did have potential to become a legitimate fighter. Frankie enjoys watching you train because you’re so dialed in, so focused that everything around you just seems to disappear. Just like it is now, you’re light on your feet, bouncing on your toes as you deliver punches and hooks to the bag, finishing with a knee or a high kick. It’s impressive. You’re impressive. 

He doesn’t stay long, doesn’t notice the way that your shoulders sag forward when the round ends. It’s almost like your body reminds you of the grief that encompasses your entire being. To be honest, fighting was a way for you to distract yourself from the grief and loss of your best friend. You’re not dealing with your grief. Instead, you’re pushing it as far back as you can, trying to focus on other things because you know that if you put your attention on the fact that your best friend died, you won’t be able to pull yourself out of it. 

—

Friday rolls around and you’re in the locker room, warming up. It’s your first fight and Benny seems more nervous than you are. Your hands are already wrapped and you’re shadowboxing to keep your muscles warm, bouncing on your toes and switching stances from orthodox to southpaw. Frankie, Will, and Santiago enter the locker room just a few minutes before your fight begins. 

“We wanna wish you luck,” Will says, pulling you into a gentle hug. “We know you’re gonna do great.”

“Thank you, Will.” 

Santiago looks at you and smiles. “Make sure this pretty face doesn’t get beat up, yeah?” 

You roll your eyes, the corner of your lips lifting just slightly. “You never quit, do you?” 

Santiago chuckles. “With you? Never.” He winks. 

Frankie then walks towards you. He’s wearing his Standard Heating Oil cap as usual and he lets a small smile line his lips. “Be safe, okay, hermosa?” 

Hermosa. The pet name slips and Frankie bites his lower lip. The tops of his ears begin to burn, turning red in slight embarrassment. He brings a hand to rub the back of his neck and even you are taken by surprise by the pet name. It brings a sense of warmth in the pit of your belly though and instead of waiting for Frankie to pull you into a hug, you wrap your arms around him and let out a shaky exhale. With Frankie, it’s almost like he can tell what you’re feeling, can read how you’re doing, and right now, Frankie’s arms tighten just enough around you that makes you feel safe, that makes you feel like things are going to be okay. 

“Alright, my little warrior,” Benny grins. “Let’s get out there.”

My little warrior. There’s an immediate shift in you and you pull away from Frankie immediately. He goes to say something, but he notices the look on your face, the distance in your eyes. You’re no longer here with him, with them, and he knows that your mind is elsewhere. 

But he can also see the way your eyes glaze over with unshed tears, threatening to spill out. Instead, you take a deep breath and put in your mouth guard, allowing Benny to slide on your gloves.

You’re walking out of the locker room and down the hallway, eyes focused straight ahead of you as the four men remain behind you. You’re supposed to feel excited, thrilled for your first fight, but all you can think about is your best friend and how he wasn’t there to be able to watch you. You clench your hands into fists, your gloves tightening around your hands and you shake your arms loose, seeing the octagon as the crowd cheers and boos. 

The cutman inspects you, making sure that you have your mouthguard in and your gloves tight and secure. Afterwards, the cutman then spreads petroleum jelly across your face - your cheekbones, the bridge of your nose, your forehead, your chin. They are the most common areas to be hit so the petroleum jelly is to help prevent cuts and tears from the impact that you’re sure you’re about to take in this fight. 

Once the cutman finishes, you turn to Benny and he pulls you into a tight hug. You’re closest to him, especially with him being your coach, but he hasn’t yet known your full story yet. “Stay focused,” he says, pulling away. “You got this.” 

You nod and gently tap his chest with your gloves before you turn to see Will, Santiago, and Frankie flash you a thumbs up from their seats in the front. You enter the octagon and let out a deep breath, your opponent staring down at you with narrowed eyes. You feel the nerves settle in, leaning back against the cage of the octagon as the announcer begins to announce your opponent’s name and her current record. You’re obviously the underdog, with this being your first fight, no one in the crowd (except for Benny and the rest of the guys) believe you can win. 

“The Warrior!” you hear the announcer exclaim and immediately, you feel a shift within you. All you can do is focus on the woman on the other end of the octagon, eyes staring straight into her and the rest of the crowd disappears. The referee calls the both of you into the middle of the ring and you step forward, shifting between your feet as you keep your eyes solely on the woman in front of you. 

“Are we clear?” the referee says after having told you both the rules. You both nod and you reach out to touch her gloves, but she just rolls her eyes and steps away, not bothering to give you the respect you had given her. 

You both move back to your corner of the ring and within seconds, the bell rings to signal the start of the first round. You move closer to the middle of the ring, seeing her do the same as you keep your hands close to your face. She delivers several low kicks that take you a while to check, your leading leg beginning to throb in pain. 

“Check those kicks!” You hear Benny yell from your corner of the octagon. It’s taking you a while to get the groove of things, still bouncing on your toes. You notice the woman has a habit of dropping her hands every time she kicks you and you know that you just need to time it right. 

Your leg is beginning to bruise and it’s becoming a bit difficult to stand on it, so you switch stances to southpaw, keeping most of your weight on your right leg now. 

“Come on!” 

“Just end the fight already!” 

“She’s not even that good!” 

You can hear the crowd and it only fuels you even further. You try to remember Benny’s training, try to remember your best friend’s teachings, and they both had told you to be patient. The right moment will present itself. 

There’s fifteen seconds left in the first round and so far, you know you’re losing. You’ve only thrown a few punches that haven’t landed. You can hear Benny screaming, begging for you to just do something instead of standing there and taking the hits that you don’t need to take. 

The woman puts more pressure and backs you into the corner of the octagon. She clinches her hands around your neck, pulling you close enough to deliver a knee to your abdomen. It hits you straight in your core, knocking the wind out of you that you drop to your knees, falling backwards just as soon as the round ends. 

You stand up slowly, walking towards your corner and sit on the seat that Benny sets down for you. You’re breathing heavily and it hurts, dripping with sweat as your abdomen begins to bruise and throb in addition to your left leg. 

“You’re losing,” Benny says, lifting the bottle of water to your lips to give you a gulp. “You said you wanted this. You said you wanted to fight. What the hell is goin’ on?!”

You shake your head, tightening your jaw as you keep your eyes straight ahead, focused on the other woman and her team. 

“Those kicks–” you begin. “I’m sorry, Benny. I’ll do better. I’ll finish it in this round.”

“That’s a bit presumptuous.” 

You stand up from the seat, even with twenty seconds of rest left. “She drops her hands when she delivers a kick, Benny. I’m trying to find an opening.” 

“You’re gonna get your ass kicked just waiting for something to happen. Be proactive. You know you’re fast. You know you’ve got the power. I know you can win this fight. Do you?”

You nod and look up at Benny. “Yes, I do.”

“Then fuckin’ win!” 

The referee waves in your direction, signaling that the next round is about to begin. Benny looks down at you and his eyes soften for a moment. 

“You can do this,” he says. “Believe in yourself.” 

You nod and begin to bounce on your toes, the pain you’re feeling taking a backseat as you stare at the other woman with a tightened jaw and narrowed eyes. 

Then, the bell rings and the second round begins. 

The other woman rushes towards you and you use your footwork to easily move away from her punches. You see her leg begin to lift and her hands drop. This is your moment. You deliver a quick jab that connects with her face and she stumbles backward. It isn’t enough to drop her, so you push forward. 

“There you go!” Benny exclaims. “Just a 1-2! She felt that!” 

You remain focused, delivering just a simple 1-2 punch that continues to connect with her face. You step back to give you enough space to deliver a high kick to her right side, seeing her drop her hands to block the kick which gives you an opening to deliver a hard left hook across her chin. 

You put as much strength as you could behind the hook, hearing the sound of your glove connecting with her chin echo throughout the building. She falls immediately on her back and you quickly scramble to mount her. Her arms cover her face as you just begin to ground and pound, delivering hammer fists to her face. 

Then, you feel the referee come between the both of you, waving his hands in the air to stop the fight. 

You won. Holy shit, you won! 

Benny runs inside of the octagon and lifts you up, cheering and laughing. “You did it!” The rest of the guys rush inside as well, staring at you with excited eyes and grins. 

The other woman finally stands up and the referee holds each of your wrists, waiting for the announcer to announce you as the winner. Once your hand is raised in the air, you feel tears threatening to spill over. The other woman comes to you and reaches out to give you a one-armed hug. 

“Great job,” she says. “That was a great fight.” 

“I’m sure my leg is gonna hurt like hell for the next few days,” you say with a slight smile. 

The other woman chuckles and nods, turning around to walk out of the octagon with her team. 

You turn around and look at Benny, Will, Santiago, and Frankie. Seeing them stare at you with smiles finally makes the dam break and tears begin to trickle down your cheeks. Benny’s the first one to pull you into a hug, holding you so tight that it provides the comfort you didn’t know you needed. 

“Your best friend would be proud,” he whispers and it only makes you cry even harder. He and the rest of the guys lead you out of the octagon, hearing the applause and cheers from the crowd as you begin to make your way back to the locker room.

—

After your fight - and after freshening up and taking a shower - you meet the guys at the local bar that they normally frequent. You’re limping slightly, the bruise on your left leg a painful reminder of the leg kicks you endured during the fight. With each breath, you feel your side twinge with pain from the knee your opponent delivered at the end of the first round. 

You keep your hair down and past your shoulders, dressed in a black slip dress that reaches past your knees and sandals. You’re glad that your face didn’t take much damage, but you’re sure that your body is going to be in a lot more pain tomorrow. 

Tonight, you feel like you can celebrate… But also because you didn’t want to be alone. 

Stepping into the bar, you see the four men in a booth in the corner and they spot you immediately. Their eyes slightly widen at the sight of you and you can’t help but let out a quiet chuckle, your cheeks heating up at the way they’re looking at you. 

“You clean up nice,” Benny chuckles. 

“I’m not in spandex shorts and a shirt, drenched in sweat,” you tease, sliding into the booth next to Frankie. 

“You look great,” Frankie blurts out. 

“Thank you, Frankie,” you say quietly, looking over at him. 

Santiago, Will, and Benny look between the both of you and arch a brow before the three of them stand up to walk towards the bar. “First round will be on me,” Will says. “What can we get for you?” 

“Glass of white wine, please,” you answer. 

When the three of them leave, there’s an uncomfortable and awkward silence that fills the air between you and Frankie. He scoots closer to the inside of the booth to give you some space and he lifts the glass of beer to his lips. 

“You were great out there tonight,” he finally says. 

“I got my ass handed to me in the first round.”

Frankie chuckles. “But you didn’t give up and you came back in the second round.”

“Guess you can call it luck.”

“It wasn’t luck.” 

You shrug and look down at your hands. “I just saw an opening and took it.” 

“You work hard and it paid off,” Frankie says. 

“Trying to,” you mumble. “It’s been hard.” 

Frankie leans forward, elbows resting on the table as he looks over at you. “Benny mentioned your best friend…” he begins quietly, eyeing you to make sure that he wasn’t overstepping any boundaries. When he realizes you weren’t going to stop him and change the subject, he continues. “I’m sorry.”

I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. 

Even six months later, that phrase still frustrates you. Even though it’s meant as a way to offer condolences, it’s never brought you any comfort. 

“Yeah,” you shrug. 

“I didn’t mean to–”

“It’s fine,” you interrupt. “I try not to think about it, about him.” 

Frankie nods. “You know, all four of us are prior military. Special Forces.”

“Really?” you ask, brows arching. You didn’t know that, but it does explain how close and tight knit they are. 

Frankie nods again. “We lost one of our buddies a couple of years ago. There used to be five of us and now,” he sighs. “Anyway, I just– If you ever need anyone to talk to, we’re all willing to listen.” 

“You ever get through it?” You ask. “It’s been six months and I feel… Stuck.”

Frankie shrugs. “You just learn how to deal with it. Learn how to live life without them.”

“But what if you can’t?” you say quietly. “What if you aren’t sure how to deal with it? How to live life without them? Then what?”

Frankie sighs. “I don’t know,” he answers honestly. “Would your best friend want you to move forward? Would he want you to be happy?” 

“I don’t know. I can’t ask him.” You sigh quietly and gently reach out to rest a hand on Frankie’s arm, feeling the muscles flex underneath your fingertips. “I’m sorry. I don’t–”

“Don’t worry about it,” Frankie says softly, reaching over to rest a hand over your own. “We all deal with it in our own way. I hope you know, though, that we’re all here for you.” He looks into your eyes, staring deeply. “I’m here for you.” 

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal character #garrett hedlund #garrett hendlund character #oscar isaac character #oscar isaac #charlie hunnam character #charlie hunnam #triple frontier #triple frontier fanfiction #triple frontier fanfic #will ironhead miller #santiago pope garcia #benny miller #frankie cat #story: chance encounters

[sombrashe]

If you’re comfortable with it Id like to request a Norm x chummy fem reader smut, so far I can’t find any smut for our short king Norm T-T

Teasing

content reader is a seasoned wastelander and knows how to survive but is completely clueless when it comes to sex so norm is here to help <3, nipple play, thigh riding, mentions of giving a blowjob but nothing comes from it, afab!reader, chubby!reader

note(s) reader is a fillian and joined lucy's group on their way back through after collecting norm | i hope that this ready is chummy enough!!

"Hey Norm, I was thinking for Lucy's par-."

Your words die on your tongue as you walk into the room. Norm is sitting there cock in hand mouth open at your discovery.

"Fuck."

It's all he can think to say. Months without a release has made his mind foggy. This fog is exactly why he's propped against a pile of wooden boxes. Why he told you he was going next door to 'double check the terminal'.

"Oh! I'm sorry. I don't want to interrupt. I can leave you be if you want."

You give him a gentle smile as you keep direct eye contact. You got a good look when you first walked in. He wonders what you have to say about it.

"What?"

He's normally so comfortable around you. Your soft and sweet personality makes him feel safe and calm. He thought you might turn and run out of the cramped room. Instead, you continue standing there as if you were waiting for orders.

"Did ya' want some help? I don't know how much I can do, I've never seen a penis before. But I'm willing to learn if you want. :)"

He was not expecting this. Not you offering yourself to him. He can tell you mean it too. What with the way your fingers danced across your thigh as you waited for an answer.

"Okay."

He was normally so confident and yet here he was giving short answers while you rambled.

"Cool."

You strip yourself of your armor and weapons to join him on the floor. Sitting down cross-legged in front of him you make sure to flash him a warm smile. He removed the hand that was loosely holding his cock and rubbed his palm against his thigh. You push your fingertips together eagerly watching as it twitches against his abdomen. He was more muscular than you imagined and it fit him nicely.

"Go ahead."

You blink at him and gather yourself onto your knees. Sitting back on your heels you feel comfortable enough to continue. Reaching forward you trace your pointer finger down the prominent vein on the underside of his shaft. He tilts his head and focuses on your face instead of your actions. Gathering up the courage you wrap your hand around his shaft. Pulling it down slightly you take in the subtle curve. Your stomach starts moving and you heat up at the feeling. Moving your hand you gently press your fingers into the skin. His fingers end up wrapped around your wrist after a few minutes of prodding.

"Is there a better way?"

"You can use your mouth or I can show you how to use your hand."

"Can I try both? The girl I used to go scavenging with said to stick to one. Is it because it's too much?"

"You can try both."

Here he was, vault suit pooled at his ankles, while you sat waiting for his instructions. His cock jumps at the idea.

"Come here."

You scoot yourself up along his leg and settle with you resting on his thigh. He reaches up and searches your face as he pulls your distressed shirt over your head. You allow him to undress you, going through your layers until the straps of fabric holding your breasts in place are the only obstacle left. You take over then and skillfully remove the knots letting the fabric fall pushed off to the side. He reaches forward and ghosts his thumb over your right nipple. You quickly grab at his wrist with your dominant hand.

"Did you like that?"

"Mm-hm."

He gently pries your hand off of his wrist and instead wraps it around his bicep. You dig blunt nails into smooth skin as he brushes his thumb over your nipple again. Letting out a soft sound he twists the bud. He dips his head down and towards your chest. Your cheeks twinge with strong heat. When his lips clasp around your untouched nipple your throat lets out a sound. Something deep within your chest. You keep it in your mouth and swallow it back down.

"Try moving your hips. No, in a circle. Like this."

He removes himself from your chest completely to guide you. His face is calm even when you bump your knee into his ruddy cock. You remember how sensitive he was and you wonder if it felt similar to the pressure building in your abdomen. When you seem to have gotten into a rhythm he removes his hands from your hips. Cupping your breast he raises the fatty mound to his mouth. Peppering the flesh in soft kisses he finishes with the nipple back into the warmth of his mouth. Huffing you slam your palm into his bicep. He grunts and looks up at you through his eyelashes.

"It's a lot. In my stomach."

"That's normal, is it a nice feeling?"

"I think?"

He hums as he sucks on your nipple while his hand tweaks the other. Your hips smear your clothed cunt against your underwear. The feeling in your abdomen grows stronger and your hips start to suffer the consequences. Struggling to continue your movements you cup at Norm's cheeks. Finally, he releases your nipple with a wet pop.

"Can we kiss?"

He gives a small soft smile and presses his soft lips against your chapped ones. Using his hands he once again helps guide your hips. Slide, slide, circle, slide. You don't want to make sounds but your throat has a mind of its own and you're unable to swallow the squeaks that pass into his mouth. You feel embarrassed.

"Why didn't you make sounds?"

"Didn't have enough time, I would have. Especially with you touching me."

"Oh~"

This time a soft whimper was swallowed instantly by him. The way his lips move against yours has the heat building in your abdomen coming to full force. His hands leave your hips to continue tweaking your nipples. You press yourself fully down onto his thigh. The overwhelming feeling has you forgetting his main rule of kissing- don't bite. To his credit, he doesn't say a word even when your mouth starts to fill with copper. Your teeth click against his as you double down. Sharp canines cut at his perfect lips and the only indication of pain is how painful he twists at you. It felt heavenly and soon the heat in your abdomen was sending sharp electricity through your veins. When the electricity reaches your toes you feel the denim between your legs start to soak through. Letting out a sharp yelp the heat slowly leaves your limbs heavy.

"Are you okay? How do you feel? Did you like it?"

He's asking a million questions a minute and all you can do is give him a thumbs up. Leaning forward you let your cheek rest on his shoulder collarbone. He gives you a chuckle as he gently rubs circles into your back.

"Oh, what about you? Don't you need some release?"

"I'm fine. I already came."

"Is that what I did?"

"Yes. Exactly the same."

Looking down slightly you see the creamy white stains covering his toned stomach. Humming you cuddle into him and close your eyes as cozy heat covers you.

#fallout #fallout prime #fallout tv series #fallout 2024 #fallout smut #norm maclean #norm maclean smut #norm maclean x reader #norm maclean x reader smut #sombrashe writes