#whoever wrote this : i WILL be beating you up

[meanbossart]

I normally don't get too invested in other people's characters (bc I already spend so much time thinking and promptly forgetting stuff about my own) but I've really liked how you flesh your characters out and how they interact with one another in your fic! So I wanted to ask if you have a process when getting asks about your characters or writing chapters for ANE.

Thank you so much! For lore asks I don't have much of a process besides for spilling out whatever information I have as comprehensively as I can. I do try to make it an enjoyable reading experience and to establish a bit of a mood through the writing (for the longer/in-depth replies, at least) to make it more fun for both myself and whoever is reading it.

As for how I come up with them, it's usually something I have already thought about prior, other times I might take a few hours or days to think it through. I'm just having fun so I take my time.

Questions about Companion Drow take some minor research. For the Dryad's love quizz ask, for example, I went and looked at the questions the rest of the companions got and their answers for them - broke it down in a kind of pattern that I could identify and then wrote my Q&As based off of it.

Naturally, ANE takes a lot more prep lol the first 4 chapters in it were complete stream-of-conscious stuff, but it was soon after that when I figured out where I wanted the story to go and outlined the plot for myself. Each chapter gets a bullet-point list of plot beats I wanna hit and roughly how to get there, dialogue is often pre-written in as little or as much detail as I feel necessary. Main plot/twists/ending is already set, with some connective tissue in-between roughed out and subject to change as I write more.

#ask #a novel experience

[sergeantwoods]

post roba, before the 141

ghost sat. he just sat there. a shard of glass in hand, in his room that price had assigned him. he felt hollow. like someone had cut open his head and scooped out his brain. and his heart. was there. just there, serving no real purpose. it ached, beating dully.

the sound of the door opening startled ghost slightly into looking at whoever was entering. he swore he had locked the door - hadnt he learned his lesson by now? when he realized it was price, he slowly looked away and back at the glass in his hand.

price was silent for a moment before asking softly, "whats wrong?"

simon stayed quiet, then whispered hoarsely, "my hand hurts."

price snorted, gesturing to the piece of glass in his hand. "yeah, because you're holding a shard of glass."

"i know."

"so why dont you let it go?"

simons eyes strayed from the piece of glass to prices face, before turning to stare blankly in front of himself. "i dont know. ive had it for a long time."

price walked closer to ghost, yet still kept his distance. simon appreciated that. "why do you even have a shard of glass?" price mused.

simon hesitated. "...it used to something else before it broke," he paused, before adding quietly. "but now i dont know what to do, and im afraid of letting it go."

"the only way you'll feel better is if you let it go," price remarked softly. simon could feel the holes the man was staring into his head.

"i dont remember a time in my life where i didnt have it, and the pain of having it might be better than the pain of losing it," ghost responded, dipping his head to observe the glass. it had already cut into his hand, tiny drops of blood finding themselves leaving simons skin.

"if the shard of glass doesnt serve you and only causes you pain, its not worth holding onto, and the only way you can heal is if you let go." price said carefully, slowly coming to stand next to ghost.

"okay," ghost mumbled, dropping the shard. it clattered to the ground, the edges painted in red. the glass splintered at the sides.

"how do you feel?" price asked, raising a brow at the piece of glass on the floor before directing his attention back to ghost.

"weird," he grouched, then added, "and bad. and my hand is still bleeding."

price chuckled. "healing takes time. one day, you won't even remember you had a cut on your hand."

"what should i do with the glass?"

"leave it, its not your responsibility anymore."

simon paused, contemplating. "i know, but i feel bad about littering."

price smiled. "you're right, ill put it in the trash." he reached down to grab the glass, startling when simon interupted again.

"no, i'll do it." he said, as he picked the glass up again.

-

i hope u understood the hidden meaning to that

i also got this from something i saw but i wrote it in a ghost/price father/son relationship thing

the link for the original video where i found it is here !! (ignore that its a yt short, i get bored and scroll sometimes ,,, )

raaaaahjshsjdfs im going to go play dmz now !!!

#call of duty #cod #simon ghost riley #john price #father son relationship #hidden meanings #101 #lmaooaoaoa #sarges blurbs

[diedoverahat]

A Different Kind of Compensation.

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part two!

pairing: mike schmidt x fem!reader

prompt: you’ve been babysitting abby for mike nearly three months now. he constantly apologizes for not paying you yet, you constantly tell him it doesn't bother you. one night he comes back from his shift at freddy’s and has a different idea on how to compensate you for all of your hard work.

warnings: 18+, oral (fem receiving), vaginal fingering (kinda???), munch!mike.

word count: this was supposed to be a short dirty work that somehow turned into a 2.2k monster. told you i love to ramble.

authors note: remember when i said i might write smut if i was just so moved by an ask? well turns out my very first ask moved me. y'all are nasty, i love it. mike, of course, is a munch because why would he be anything else? i never, with a capital N, write smut so please bear with me if it sucks. i hope whoever requested this loves it! i wrote it instead of finishing my scientific article for bio so it better be decent hehe.

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The sound of the front door opening followed by heavy footsteps woke you up from where you were dozing off on the couch. You gazed at the clock on the side table near you and sure enough, 6:10 blinked back at you. Mike was finally home. You heard him shuffling around in the kitchen, most likely shedding his work vest and hanging his keys on the little hook by the door.

You yawned, trying to rub the sleep out of your eyes as you sat up on the couch. The blanket you used to cover yourself falling to pool around your waist. Mike finally made his way to the living room, sitting on the couch with a soft grunt. 

“Hey,” he said quietly, his voice rough from lack of use. “Abby eat anything?”

“Yeah, a little,” You mutter back through a barely concealed yawn, head lolling to rest on the back of the couch. “You know how she is.”

He hums in acknowledgement but stays silent apart from that, keeping his gaze trained on the infomercial playing on TV. A comfortable silence settles over the two of you. You sit up even further on the couch, leaning against the arm rest facing Mike. The blue/green hue of the TV bathed him in light, his hair was unruly with curls sticking out at awkward angles. He had deep bags under his eyes. Just as you thought about getting up to take off, he spoke up again. 

“I promise I’ll get you the money,” he says softly, not taking his eyes off the TV, “I…I just need some time.”

You scoff in mock annoyance, crossing your arms in front of your chest. “Mike, you know I don’t care about the money. I don’t mind doing this for you.” You reply, nudging his knee with your foot softly then just leaving it perched on his lap.

Mike finally turns to look at you, there's a strange look on his face that you can’t quite place, but you give him a small smile all the same. He stares at you for a few beats, you can practically see the gears turning in his head. 

“You deserve something,” he whispers, his brows furrowed in frustration. “You do so much for me, it’s only fair.” As he speaks, he slowly moves his hand off the couch to your ankle still resting on his thigh, he starts rubbing slow circles over the skin there. His eyes never left yours as he touched you, a very obvious question in them. Asking if you wanted this.

Heat instantly rushed to your belly, cheeks turning a light shade of red at his touch. You’d always thought Mike was attractive, but you never would have imagined he’d want to be anything more than friends. Since he was already so busy with taking care of Abby and his hellish new job.

You swallow once before speaking, your throat feeling dry all of a sudden. “What are you suggesting?” You ask so softly, wondering if he even heard you. Mikes’ fingers stop in favor of trailing his hand up your calf in a featherlight touch, disappearing under the blanket to seek out more of your soft skin. Your heart is beating so fast you think you might die, the sound of it echoing in your ears loudly. 

Mike's big brown eyes stare into yours with a newfound intensity, visibly shocked that you're reacting so viscerally to his touch, his pupils are blown to hell. Chocolate brown being swallowed by black.  His tongue coming out to sweep over his top lip.

“How about you,” he says slowly, scooting closer to you on the small couch. He crowds into your personal space like he belongs there. Mike’s lips inches away from yours. He smells like old leather and dust from being cramped in the security office at Freddy’s. Your chest heaves as your eyes flit back and forth from his eyes to his lips. Seconds drag by like hours as you painstakingly wait for him to finish his sentence. “Stay right there while I make you feel good.” He finally says, his breath fanning over your face hotly. You can’t even speak, afraid of how desperate you might sound, just nodding your head roughly, not looking away from his hungry gaze.

Mike’s hand runs up your leg quickly after you give him the green-light, slipping further under the blanket and higher up your leg until he reaches his destination. He rubs you gently through your shorts, your breath hitches sharply at what should be just a simple touch, but you’re still so worked up from earlier that it feels ten times more extreme. You grasp the blanket still strewn over your lap tightly in your fists, it's the only thing keeping you from seeing Mike’s hand at work between your legs.

Mike reacts to touching you for the first time like he can feel it too. His breath stutters out of his chest, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of your already wet folds through your thin cotton sleeping shorts. “Fuck.” He breathes out quietly, so quietly you doubt he even meant to say it out loud. He opens his eyes again, breathing slightly rougher as he stares at you through his arousal induced haze and heavy eyelids. 

Seeing your face must spur him on because he starts rubbing with more fervor than before, his clever fingers applying more pressure making you moan softly. You cut yourself off quickly, eyes darting down the hall to Abby's bedroom door. It's still closed, there's no light leaking through the crack between it and the floor.

"Shit, Mike." You whine quietly.

Mike groans softly at the sound of his name leaving your lips, body trembling slightly with the feeling. Suddenly he wrenches his hand out from under the blanket, and rips it off your lap frantically. You gasp sharply at the cool air breaking through the bubble of warmth the blanket provided, involuntarily closing your legs.

Mike pushes up from his position on the couch next to you, knee walking over so he's kneeling in-front of your clenched thighs. You're still slightly sprawled across the cushions, leaning on the arm of the couch.

"Do you know how crazy you make me?" He asks roughly, putting both his hands on your still closed knees. It takes a second for your brain to catch up to answer him, after a few moments you finally manage a faint shake of your head.

"No?" He asks, tilting his head to the left slightly. "Let me show you then."

Mike grabs your wrist, tugging you closer to him, and leads your hand down into his lap. Your breath catches in your throat when he places your hand directly over his clothed erection, but it gets drowned out by Mike's louder whine thanks to you touching him for the first time. You drag your eyes downward, his dark grey sweatpants leave little to the imagination. He got more worked up touching you than you first thought, if the wet patch forming near the tip of his hard-on was anything to go by.

As soon as you started to rub him with purpose, Mike grabbed your wrist, halting your efforts. "No," He said breathlessly, practically panting. "No, this is for you tonight. Just wanna focus on you."

He let go of your wrist, turning his head in your direction. Both of you failed to realize how close you'd gotten when he dragged you to him. Your noses practically touch when he turns, catching you both off guard. His eyes travel down to your lips, staring at how red and puffy they'd gotten from you biting them to muffle your moans.

"How sweet of you, Mike." You whisper, leaning in just a tad closer. He lets out a guttural groan and closes the distance between your lips, claiming your mouth with his own. He leans forward, gently guiding you to lay back on the couch. His body completely covering yours as the two of you makeout, his arms on either side of your head and his hips slotting against yours, letting you feel the hard length of his cock against your cunt. You moan into his mouth, your hips bucking up to meet his.

Mike breaks the kiss with a whine, trying to muffle the noise by shoving his face in your neck. You bring your hands up to tangle in his curly hair, yanking it roughly as he starts littering kisses all along your collarbones. Nipping and sucking in-between his gasping little moans as you twist and pull his hair in your grip.

He tears his mouth away to stare up at you through his lashes, his lips are swollen and red. “Please,” He gasps out, his hips unconsciously grinding down into your thigh. “Let me eat you out. Please. Tell me I can, say I can.” He babbles, hips rutting faster every second you don’t answer him.

“Yes.” You exclaim as quietly as possible. “Do it, Mike. Eat me out.”

Mike’s whole body shudders at your words, eyes falling closed for a second before he quickly slides down your body, leaving an odd kiss here and there as he goes. He brings his hands up to grip the waistband of your shorts, pausing to take a single steadying breath, then he tugs them down along with your panties and tosses them aside. He stares down at you in awe for a good few moments before he lays on his stomach, right in front of your dripping cunt.

Mike kisses along the inside of your thighs for a bit, licking everywhere but where you want him to the most. “Thank you.” he mutters, tone way too earnest for the situation at hand but you don’t have much time to think about it before he’s diving face first into your thighs.

“Fuck!” You let your voice get way too loud in the quiet atmosphere of the house, but you can’t help it. You didn’t think Mike had lots of experience because of some late night drunken talks before, but he was either lying or holding out. He works his tongue expertly along every inch of you. Every swirl, flick, or suck has you catapulting to the edge way faster than you’d imagined.

It doesn't help that Mike keeps letting out these noises. Small needy whines or deep guttural groans that you can feel. He’s moaning like he’s the one getting head, unashamed and authentic. It’s so fucking sexy.

“Shit Mike, I’m close. I’m so close.” You whisper too quietly for him to hear with his head trapped between your thighs, but it doesn’t matter. Mike brings his thumb up to lightly circle your clit as he laps against your entrance, and you're gone.

Your thighs shake as you release, grabbing on Mike’s hair for dear life as you go through the most intense orgasm ever. He moans into your cunt, working you through the aftershocks. He laves his tongue along you until the overstimulation gets to be too much and you drag his face away by his hair.

He sits up, the bottom half of his face covered in spit and slick. That visual alone is almost enough to get you ready for round two. It’s silent except for the heavy breathing coming from you both.

After he catches his breath, Mike retrieves the blanket from behind his back somewhere to cover the lower half of your body. Your thighs are still shaking as he lays next to you, it’s a tight squeeze but neither of you seem to mind. He kisses the side of your face sweetly, throwing his arm around your waist to pull you in even closer.

You finally regain enough conscience to speak. “Are you sure you don’t want to get off?” You ask, “I mean I can’t feel my legs but I’m sure we could think of something.” Mike only laughs quietly, shaking his head. “Maybe next time, this was about you.” He said, beginning to rub his fingers back and forth on your hip. “Plus I, uh, I already sort of…” He trails off, a flush forming on his cheeks.

It took you a second to realize what he was saying, but when it clicked you couldn’t help the small giggle that escaped your mouth. You lifted up the blanket covering the two of you, and sure enough Mike had an impressive wet patch seeping through his sweats.

He pinches your hip lightly, offended by your giggling. “Don’t laugh at me,” He complains with a smile, yanking the blanket back up. “I couldn’t help it.”

You stifle another laugh to the best of your ability, though your shoulders still shake ever so slightly. You turn your head to press a kiss to his lips. It’s different from the previous kisses you shared tonight. It’s slower and softer, full of a new emotion that you both feel, but know that it can wait to be talked about later. For now you’re both just basking in the afterglow.

You break the kiss first, pulling back only slightly to lean your forehead against his. You both smile at each other for a second.

“Okay,” You give in, brushing a strand of sweaty hair away from his face. “But believe that tomorrow is all about you.”

#baby's first smut #i'm so nervous #don't be mean #i like it tbh #so i actually don't care if you guys don't #i'm just kidding #please like this #love you #crying screaming yelling #micheal schmidt x reader #micheal schmidt x you #mike schmidt #mike schmidt smut #mike schmidt imagine #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt x reader #fnaf smut #josh hutcherson #jhutch #five nights at freddy's #fnaf #fnaf movie #micheal schmidt #smut #josh hutcherson x reader #josh hutcherson smut

[vivwritesfics]

Bad Luck Charm

Every race she had been to had been a shitshow. The sprint in China was no exception.

Lol I missed the quali for the sprint bc sleep and wrote this (bc the one time I don't watch lando is in first)

Lando wanted her at every single race she could attend. Now, these were few and far between, but he was happy to pay to get her to him if he needed to.

It was rare for her to attend the Friday practice sessions. She still had work and couldn't jet off to the other side of the world at a moments notice. But still, she promised to be there for the Saturday race.

The last race she'd managed to attend was Las Vegas, so it was understandable that she was on edge. But once she had landed in China and found out that Lando was starting in pole position for the sprint race, her worries eased.

Still, there was a race to get through.

She hadn't thought of being Lando's bad luck charm before. No, not until she read something that Max Verstappen had said, something about him winning so Penelope didn't think she was bad luck.

She didn't mean to think about every race she had been to and had Lando had either missed out on a win he was so closed to or didn't finish the Grand Prix.

But that was what had happened. Every win he'd been certain to win, he'd missed out when she was there. And now he was started on pole fir the sprint, dominating in a qualifying session that she hadn't been able to watch.

She seemed to be the only person that had figured it out, though. When she arrived at the track to watch Lando in the sprint, he immediately wrapped his arms around her.

His lips found the top of her head and he couldn't keep himself from grinning at her. He was just so fucking happy to have her there.

As with every race she attended, she kissed him, waited for him to put his helmet on and kissed that also. 'For good luck,' Lando said every time. (Oh the irony).

But then the sprint began. Lando didn't make it around the first corner still in the lead. Her heart sank as she watched him drop back into seventh.

It had to be her presence. What other reason was there? For some inexplicable reason the universe wanted to punish her and it was doing it through Lando.

As soon as she could, after nineteen laps of waiting and after watching her boyfriend finish sixth, she was in his arms. Lando wasn't happy with himself, ready to beat himself up, but having her there made it just a little bit better.

For the life of him, he couldn't work out why she was apologising. "Eh?" He asked as he gently moved her away from his chest to meet her gaze. "What're you on about?"

She looked damn near ready to cry as Lando looked at her. Whoever had made his girl cry, well, they had another thing coming.

But then she sniffled and wiped at the non-existent tears beneath her eyes. "Every race weekend I've gone to has gone to shit, Lan," she mumbled. "I'm your bad luck charm and I should fly back home before I make things worse."

Lando knew he shouldn't have laughed. But he couldn't help himself. It was the most ridiculous thing he'd ever heard. "Baby, you can't be serious," he said. When she didn't react he pulled her in again. "You're not my bad luck charm, you numpty. Plus, if you stop coming to race weekends I'll have to take time out of my practice sessions to drag you here myself. And then, boom, my racing gets worse."

"You're an ass," she said as she buried her face in his chest. He was an ass, but she loved him.

#lando norris #lando norris imagine #lando norris x you #lando norris x reader #lando norris fluff #ln4 #ln4 imagine #ln4 x reader #f1 #formula one #f1 imagine #formula 1 #f1 x reader #formula one imagine #formula one x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine

[neonovember]

Oh my GOD oh my for okay though that new fic you wrote with Carmy? 12/10 chefs kiss mwah mwah MWAH!! 💕💕💕 That part with Carmy going ballistic and beating the shit out of that asshole customer I LOVED it!! Now it’s got me thinking of Carmen going absolutely feral, just insane if he’s in the kitchen cooking and calling orders, while you’re out front taking orders from customers. He and the rest of the kitchen just go silent and stop in their tracks when they hear a guy just screaming at the top of his lungs at you, using the absolute most vile words against you and Carmen just sees red, especially if whoever it is ups and yells something along the lines of “You stupid fucking whore-“ and Carmen’s just a blur as he POUNCES on this guy. (Richie’s either cheering him on or trying with all his strength to claw Carmen off before he straight up kills the guy)

Office Doors

Oooh you guys are spoiling me rotten with these requests…I love a good feral fic every once in a while and this one was..well you'll know what i'm talking about once you've read it ;) I haven't written Carmen in a day and I miss him already, school has been up my ass so if you have sent me a request, don't worry it's being written, and re-written and-. Thank you anon for getting my gears going and your lovely messages 🥰🥺 ur support means the world

warnings: swearing, objectification and misogyny, angst, oral (f recieving), smut, thigh riding (?), porn with plot, feral!carmen

carmen berzatto x reader!

(This is totally and completely canon btw)

You stretch your body across the diner tables, dipping a dirty cloth into lukewarm soapy water before rinsing it out. The lunch rush had just slowed to a even pace, the sound of Carmen yelling out dishes from his line finally quieting down.

You have just a little time to spare, and you spent that time quickly wiping down the Beef’s tables that had begun to accumulate a few too many stains and unfinished crumbs of bread.

You had grown up in a home that was always messy, all the time. And no matter how much times you had asked, and no matter how much times you had just done the chores themselves, the clutter of dirty dishes and old wet clothes in the laundry had permanently been embedded into your family home.

It’s partially why you had loved the sterile laboratory of you culinary kitchens. Clutter caused your skin to itch with anxiety, it made you feel dirty, and with the way you scrub the diner tables a little too hard you wonder if it's another one of the many joy’s your family had given you.

And whilst the Beef was so different from your environment back in culinary school, it wasn’t necessarily worse. In fact, you had grown to fall in love with the quirks of the kitchen, the ‘fuck you carmen’ napkin holder, the too small walkway, the framed pictures of beloved regulars and the staff’s families. Most of all, however, was the family you had built here, the kind you couldn't find working under a domineering CDC.

The kind that had always been waiting for you, been planted deep into the earth like roots.

Besides, you and Carmen had bonded together during the late nights after most of the family had gone home. Were you both were left, scrubbing the floor together in a rhythmic silence that seemed to be more therapeutic than work.

You’ve nearly finished wiping down the last of the stools perched against the counter top of the front when a loud guffawing causes you to break your trance-like state.

Jovial yelling breaks into the rarely quiet restaurant as the door swings open, and a stream of rowdy men dressed in pullovers and fleece jackets, with scarves and basketball hats of distinct sport team colours wrapped around their necks.

One man is fully decked out, sporting the jersey and beanie of what seemed to be a hockey team. The boom of his voice indicates he was the loudest too, unaware of the grumble of patrons around the restaurant that had grown annoyed at the man's violent rambling.

You breath out a sigh, finishing off wiping down the bar stools and putting the bucket of dirty water under the front counter. Before ironing out any creases in your apron and preparing yourself for the absolute headache this would cause.

They were a familiar bunch, usually coming in after games late after the dinner rush. It seemed there was a game during the early morning, as they grumble about not having anything to eat the entire day.

Their loud and annoying and swear too much and Carmen hates the way one of them looks at you but they order a shit ton of food and fuck if the bear needs money, what can you say.

Your eyes glance at a cup of coffee Richie had accidently left under the register, and you suddenly crave your afternoon pick me up well after the afternoon. The men begin walking up to the register, ignoring your polite greeting and going straight into listing off items from the menu as if you were a machine. You nod along all the words they were saying, and soon enough you give up on writing it down as they’ve practically ordered the entire menu safe for a few appetiser's. 

“Make it quick, yeah? We’re bloody starving '' One of the men calls out from his seated position in one of the booths and you give them a tight lipped smile, resisting the urge to throw that coffee mug at him. 

Carmen peeks his head from the entryway leading to the kitchen, his unruly ashy blonde curls falling to the sides as he shares a look with you,  as if to say ‘you alright? And you nod in that unspoken way the two of you have and tell him that you can handle it. Working in a kitchen didn't have to teach you how to deal with assholes, you had your family to thank for that one again.

You hear the familiar sound of Carmen shouting out orders, and the sizzle of pans and boiling pots increase in order to push out the lengthy order before more foot traffic would pour in. 

You’re trying to fix the register when it happens, something gets caught in the old janky machine, causing the cash drawer to get stuck as you have to hit its sides at a certain angle to get it to open up again. Years and Carmen refuses to get it fixed, or buy a new one all together, resorting to having it taped up and banged every couple hours to get it working again.

You almost don’t see him, until he is leaning against the counter, into the space between the cash register and you, a greasy smile pulling at his features and he watches you. You bite back a grimace at the way his eyes trail down your apron, fixated on the dip of skin that peeks from the top of your shirt.

“Something you need Sir?” You ask politely, taking a tentative step back, your hand gripping the edge of the counter.

The man smiles strangely at your comment, cocking his head to the side before replying suggestively

“I definitely want something”

You cough, biting back your knee-jerk response to hurl at him, you can feel the burn of embarrassment against your cheeks and you swallow as you try to reply with a steady response.

“You’re food will be out in a short-while-” 

“You know, I think I’ve seen you around here, are you new to town?” The man tries to strike up a conversation

“Came here a few years ago and haven’t left since” You reply with a tight smile

“Ah! I know where you're from exactly now” The man replies with a grin that pulls his face upwards, it's eerie, his smile, like he knows something he shouldn't.

“There’s this porn star online, looks exactly like you, it’s kind of insane” The man replies with a smile that deepens as you stammer

You feel humiliated as you stare back at him, you don’t know what to say, and his eyes continue trailing down your body in a way that makes you feel disgustingly objectified. He’s reduced you to an object for him to gawk at, and you see the way the men behind him jeer and laugh that this is all a play to intimidate you.

You want to run straight home and scrub yourself clean, wash away the feeling of his imprinted gaze down the drain.

“You think we can recreate one of her videos when you get off work here?” The man replies, a glint in his eyes.

“What? You- you” You stammer and he breaks out into a laugh

“Awh, look at her, fucking shaking. Don’t tell me this is your first time?” The man eggs on to his friends, who have begun laughing and cheering him on.

You grit your teeth, trying to get the words out as you glance towards the kitchen, where was he? He leg twitches in want, wanting to get Carmen, wanting to run from the restaurants, wanting to run from the embarrassment and disgust you felt.

The flashes of Richie and Syd passing by is all you can see, the booming voice of Carmen being too wrapped up in the orders to notice what was happening.

“C'mon, just give me your number” The man presses on, leaning in so that only you can hear “It isn't like I don't know where you work” Before he leans back, muttering a halfhearted kidding under his breath

“You are disgusting” You spit out, trying to sound as confident as you can, and the mans eyebrow twitches, and he cocks his head like he was confused.

“What? I’m doing you a favour here, I'm actually a nice guy you know? Not one of those assholes on the street” The man scoffs, moving closer towards you and you have a feeling the man is waiting for a reason to lunge at you.

“Just, just take your food and your buddies and go alright? There doesn’t have to be a fight or-or” You continue, trying to de-escalate the situation and get him to just leave you the fuck alone.

“Are you fucking kidding me? I’m doing you a fucking favour and now your kicking me out?” The man begins to get heated, and his friends behind him watch on in silence, you can notice other customers begin to look your way, sensing the rising anger filling the room. You slowly step back, looking for something to shield yourself in case he comes at you.

“What, you think because you work you have some- some what, control? I don't think you know how this works doll, you give me your number, and I dump my load in you because your nothing but a stupid fucking whore” The man bellow, it’s so loud that it echoes through the Beef, that it reaches even the kitchen sinks where Manny is washing up. 

The man’s face grows red as the veins near his neck begin to pop out, he emphasises the last word, spitting it out like that was all you were.

The restaurant goes silent as the man heaves in exertion, the sound of Carmen shooting out orders is mute now, the slice of steel against bamboo stops, and the bear is fucking quite for the first time since it opened. 

Your body is pushed against the wall, near the swinging doors into the Kitchen, and you can see Carmen back to you, he has stopped cutting at his station, and the outline of muscle contracts under his white shirt.

Carmen turns, slowly, he turns to the family, as they all momentarily stop their tasks in shock at what they had just heard. He begins to chuckle a little to himself, as he replies in a quiet voice you and the man can still hear.

“What did he just say?” 

“Did he really say that? Did he really?” Carmen laughs to himself, nodding and gripping his hands into tight fists as the restaurant air gets thin. The man who had been screaming at you looks towards Carmen in confused fear, not knowing why this man was laughing and yet understanding he had completely fucked up.

The rest of the patrons can hear Carmen’s words, eyes widening, as they realise they were about to be collateral to a very one sided beat down. The crew looked at Carmen in silence, they had been used to Carmen's hot-headed temper, his bursts of anger that was more passion than rage. But this? This quiet silence of Carmen’s words, the way his chest heaves as you glances at your frightened position against the wall? They genuinely feared what he would do next, a silent rage like no other begins to envelop the restaurant, the air thin and suffocating as Carmen begins to walk through the kitchen and into the front counter.

“Don’t call an ambulance this time” Carmen mutters to Richie as he passes him by, Carmen’s eyes are fixed on you, trailing down your body before fixating on the shake of your hands. Carmen knows you well, and it’s the clench of your throat, like you're suffocating, like you can’t breath that snaps something in Carmen.

A malevolence Carmen has never felt spills into his gut, the burn of anger spreading against his chest until hes practically shaking with it, he is filled with this heart ache, like his heart is split in two and gushing as he realises his been cutting fucking chives whilst you nearly died. 

And something predatory fills Carmen, like he must prove to himself he can protect you, and in one swift move, like muscle memory etched into his bones, Carmen jumps over the front counter and swings his fist in one clean motion, knocking the man across the room.

The man’s body crumbles as he slams into the hardwood floor of the Beef, the immediate groan of twisted pain and pleads leave the man's mouth and Carmen is just so sick of his goddamn voice. 

It all went quiet then, the noise of Sydney yelling, of his friends, of the man’s heaving wet coughs, the air conditioner, all white noise. Carmen’s hand reaches for his ankle, dragging him back from his crawling escape.

“Oh, no no no, we’re not escaping now are we?” Carmen grunts, his voice lower than it usually is.

Carmen  wraps an arm around his throat, holding him there as he brings down his fist across his face. The wet sound of bones crunching into muscle and skin go on forever, bouncing across the room until the throaty heave of the man is all that is left of him. Carmen cannot stop the swing of his fists, something possesses him and as one of the men in hockey colours tries to grab Carmen arm he throws him back into the stack of barstool's piled near the tables. He is facing his back to you again, and you state, fixated on how his body moves to support him, the contracts and outline of his strong back, his large forearms that break bone with a mere swing.

His face swollen beyond recognition, piss and blood leaking from him, eyes bloodshot and awry. 

Carmen picks him up by his collar, the smudge of blood dripping down and staining his vest, whispering into his ear as the man’s eyes widen in harrowed fear.

“Apologise”

“..Whatnhn?” The man mumbles, the feel of his tongue swelling up and going numb, Carmen presses a hand against the man's bruised stomach, pushing  against the broken bone of his ribs until the Man wails in agony. 

“Apologise to her or I swear to god I’m breaking your fucking legs” 

The man spits out an apology, but you’re not looking at him, staring transfixed at Carmen,  at the way he’s golden curls fall across his eyebrows, at the way his muscles flex against his white shirt, at the way droplets of blood are splattered across the skin of his jaw. Carmen looks towards you, and something dark takes over his cerulean blues, blowing them out.

“Do you accept? Huh honey?”

You nod, letting an exhale out and Carmen tosses the man to a pile on the floor, reaching for your hand and dragging you to the office, you can hear the scatter of shoes as the men drag their friend out of the beef, and the crew looks towards each other in satisfaction, but also in knowing, in knowing they wouldn't dare open those office doors.

The soft glow of the office is a stark difference to the bright light of the front counter, and you have to blink a couple times for your eyes to adjust, and when you do Carmen’s face is inches from you, leaning you against the office doors, his arm above your head.

The soft glow of the office is a stark difference to the bright light of the front counter, and you have to blink a couple times for your eyes to adjust, and when you do Carmen’s face is inches from you, leaning you against the office doors, his arm above your head.

“You didn't- didn’t have to” You mumble, your voice caught in your throat for a different reason.

Carmen looks down at you, shaking his head in amusement

“Don’t lie to me, you enjoyed that more than I did” Carmen whispers, leaning down near your ear, pressing his nose against the curve of your neck.

You let out a breathless sigh, and Carmen groans as he smells that familiar  vanilla always hinted on your skin Carmen could smell when you passed by you. Now, now, he can practically taste it right on his tongue.

The truth was, you did enjoy it, despite being non confrontational and cringing every time Richie would show you a fight where the crunch of bone on gravel makes you shudder, you were transfixed by Carmen. 

By the way he broke the man to a heaving mess with just his fuckinf fists, those same arms that are edging closer and closer to you, how would they feel between your thighs? The thought wraps itself tight in your belly, and you have to squeeze your thighs for friction.

No one had done that to you, no one had done that for you, and in a strange way it felt nice to be protected. To be wanted, and it causes a need to start building deep within you. 

Carmen's eyes fall to you, and his eyebrow twitches as a look of guilt washes over his features.

“I should’ve been there, I- fuck, did he do anything? Let me get a look at you” Carmen replies softly, grabbing your wrists to look for any bruises he feared you had.

“I’m fine, just a little, uhm, shaken up you know? Said some pretty horrible things” You reply, scratching at your neck as your mind replays the way he had reduced you to a thing.

Carmen shakes his head, his teeth grinding as he grips his fists, his biceps flexing. 

“You shouldn’t have to deal with that, deal with people like fucking him, I swear to god if I find him on the street I’m gonna-“

“Gonna what? Finish off the job? There is always going to be guys like him, that isn’t going to change, and it’s something I have to deal with. But what I can’t deal with is if you get yourself thrown into a jail cell because of-of me” You reply, shaking your head and Carmen looks at you like he’s in love.

Gripping a hand to your chin, Carmen raises it so that you catch the burn of his cerulean blues as you can see.

“And That would be an honourable death for me” Carmen mutters, and you can’t take your eyes off him, until you're gripping his blood stain shirt tight against your chest until the suppression groans leaving his mouth are kissed into your neck.

You want him, want to taste him on your tongue, want to feel his weight against it. 

“Fuckin come here” Carmen groans out, reaching to wrap his hand around your jaw as he presses his lips against your own. The muffled of your moans escape your lips and Carmen slips his tongue between them. 

His pillowy soft lips wrap around your own, his nose bumping into your cheek as he wraps an arm around your back, pushing you against the office doors. It’s all teeth and tongue, the clash of teeth and muffled groans leaving the both of you. 

The suppression of both your desires falling between you two until you don’t stop to come up for air. 

It’s addicting the way he kisses you, and you have to grip his shoulder as an anchor as he begins to trail his lips down your neck, sucking and nibbling at the skin there before dipping down to your clavicle. 

You let out a moan as he blows cold air against the dip of your breasts, and Carmen looks down at you, his eyes heavy as he watches the way you shiver, waiting for him to give you what you want.

Carmen rips open your shirt, his eyes trailing across the curve and dip of your breasts, he mutters something under his breath, something like “beautiful” as his finger trailing the lace before unclipping it and tossing it behind him. 

Carmen cups one of your breasts, circling your nipple before wrapping his lips around it and sucking, you arch your back to him, and he follows it until he rests and your hip, squeezing the skin there as his eyes roll back at the taste of you.

“Please..” You groan out, your eyes watching the way Carmen pressing soft circles into your skin, he looks up at you in confusion, the hint of a smile curving at his lips.

“Please what?” Carmen replies, sucking bruises beneath your tits, drawing it out on purpose, having too much fun watching you suffer.

“Nmfha” You mumble incoherently when Carmen flicks his tongue around your nipple, whilst squeezing the other in his cold hands.

“I can’t hear you, what do you want?” Carmen replies with a hint of a moan, he’s having trouble himself, bucking his hips up into you as he watches the way you shake from his lips

“Wanna feel you Carm, wanna taste you” You groan out with a moan, Carmen grunts at your response, his eyes growing dark and heavy, and in one swift move, he hoist you up and swipes the coffee mugs and papers left scattered across his desk before placing you on the edge.

You spread your thighs, making room for him and he steps between them. 

“You wanna feel me sweet girl? You want me to take care of you? Please let me take care of you” Carmen pleads, rutting up against you as he tries to suppress the want pressing tight against his jeans.

“Carm” you groan out as Carmen tugs your jeans down leaving you in your lace underwear that Carmen grinds his jaw at, you don’t realise it but Carmen blue apron is discarded somewhere in the room, and as he carries you towards the coach you tug at his white shirt. 

He rips it off him in one move, and you drag your fingers across the deep of defined muscle that flexes under your touch.

Carmen moves your thighs so that you're pushed towards the edge of the couch, and he kneels between you, pressing a soft kiss to your knee, before trailing up your thighs. Carmen had been teasing you before but now there is a frantic eagerness in the way he touches you, like if he doesn’t taste you on his tongue he might combust.

Carmen hooks a finger into your underwear,pulling them down until you were bare for him. Carmen’s eyes glisten as he states at you, naked under him and sweating. God the image imprints in his mind and he wishes he can stay here forever.

Carmen presses a soft kiss to the inside of your thigh, and your thighs shake in need, Carmen flicks his eyes up to you, and keeps eye contact, as he licks one long strip across your folds, closing his eyes and he groans at the taste of you. You contort you back at the pleasure the waves through you, eyes rolling back at the pressure of his tongue sucking your clit.

“Fucking- taste so” Carmen mumbles, before dipping his tongue between your folds, dragging it up and down, the sound of your heightened moans ripping through him. 

Dipping his tongue in your hole, Carmen pushes a finger between your thighs, presses soft circles around your clit as his tongue works your folds. Your thighs shake around the curls of his head and he pushes a hand down at your stomach to stop you from moving, making you take every wave of pleasure he pulls from you.

“Carm, please, they’re going to hear us” You groan out, and Carmen shakes his head, causing his tongue to drive deeper into you, before looking up at you, 

“Let them” 

Carmen stretches you out with his tongue, pushing it into you and out until your heaving, his thumb is pressed against your clit, and he pushes a finger into you before sucking onto your bud. 

You begin to see flashes of stars, as he thrusts a finger into your hole whilst sucking you, he scissors you open, curving his finger in a way that hits a particular spot that has you raising your hips, trying to pull yourself off of him, the white hot burn of pleasure getting too much.

“There baby? Right there?” Carmen groans out, thrusting his finger to hit that spot over and over

Carmen grips your hips, pushing you down, deeper, harder onto his mouth and fingers, pressing a second digit into you as he curves it to pull that sweet moan from your lips.

Carmen had many names, but his favourite was the broken syllabus of his own between your lips when you fell apart on his tongue.

“S’ close, so close Carmy, please” You babble out, before resigning yourself to the burn of pleasure the feels like fucking nirvana, it’s all around you, Carmen, this pleasure, it’s all you can taste.

“I know baby, I know, I’m going to take care of you okay, sweet girl?” Carmen groans, thrusting his hips into the floor, searching for friction as he watches the way your eyes roll back.

Carmen laps at your core, pushing the digits deeper, curving them upwards until you were screaming, he pushes your face down to look at him, he wants to see your face as you fall apart, and the coil that has begun to wrap itself tight snaps when he nibbles at your over sensitive clit and you see the way his dark eyes watch you, his eyebrows furrowed and your slick coats his chin.

You can’t feel anything but the white hot pleasure that rocks through you, you aren’t in your body, floating away in the pure saccharine pleasure of Carmen’s tongue and he laps at the pleasure dripping between your folds. 

You mumble incoherent words, the only thing leaving your lips is Carmen’s name as you babble, spit dripping from your open mouth as you're left in a heap, Carmen leaving you dumb.

Carmen works you through your release, licking and sucking at your sweet slick that he gathers on his tongue. You see the way he thrusts into the carpet, trying to find friction as the scene in front of him becomes too much.

The thought splits something within you, seeing how Carmen got off to getting you off was out of this world, causing the pleasure to start building in your core again. 

You drag Carmen up to meet your lips, and then push his tongue between your lips, causing you to taste him on your tongue. Carmen pushes his finger between his lips, sucking on the shine of slick coated there, his eyes heavy as he watches the way you grind your hips against him. 

He pushes his digits into your mouth, groaning at the way you suck on them eagerly. You push him to lean his back against the coach, before manoeuvring your hips to straddle him.

You rock your hips against his jeans, feeling the way the indent pushes and bumps against your core, Carmen throws his head back, his curls falling over his forehead and he grabs your hips, pushing you deeper, down down down until he is thrusting up into you.

You grip his shoulders raising your hips before pulling his jeans and boxers down in one swift motion. Carmen forces himself to look down at you, his gaze watching the way you tug at his length, swiping a thumb across the red tip, dragging pre cum down the thick girth of him.

Carmen groans out, gripping your hips tight, and you raise up, lining yourself perfectly before sinking down on him.

Carmen’s groans are beautiful, rumbling from his chests as he squeezes his eyes shut, you fit so perfectly around him, the heat and warmth and slick of you wrapped tight around his cock. His length is thick and girth, and you have to adjust to his size, moaning at the way he fills you up just right.

As you begin to move, Carmen presses a hand, begging for you to wait

“Just, one second, fuck you feel so good I might cum from one thrust” 

“Who says this is a one time thing?” You reply with a wicked smile, and Carmen groans loud at that.

You raise your hips, dragging your self on him before sliding down, your grind against him and he heaves in the pleasure of your tightness around him. 

It had been so long, and the feeling of you is almost too much. 

You struggle to raise your hips high enough, and Carmen wraps his hands tight around your hips before raising you himself, driving himself up into you and thrusting hard.

This new angle allows him to go deeper, and you meet his upward thrusts, groaning out as he fucks you dumb. You look gorgeous above him, the way your tits bounce with every thrust up has him hard all over again.

“Just like that baby girl, keep going, doing so fucking well, my baby” Carmen groans out, and you begin to shake at the combination of his praise the the feeling of his cock driving into you impossibly deep.

You want to make him feel good and you say this to him, causing his eyes to roll back when you squeeze yourself around him, hard, until his thrusts have to drive into you even harder.

The coach freaks loudly from Carmen’s pace, and he slams you down, positioning his cock deep into you, causing you to press half circles into your shoulder, scratching at his biceps and gripping the nape of his hair that causes him to rumble out your moaned name.

You can feel him getting close, his thrust growing sloppy and deep, you tighten around him, and his eyes are in a trance, watching the way you fit around him so perfectly.

Carmen moves to fold himself upright against you, and your eyes roll back to your head as you feel yourself climb up a familiar peak.

Carmen presses a hard kiss against your lips as you groan out, and as he slips a hand into your conjoined bodies, circling your clit you have to shove your fist into your hand to stop from screaming.

The feel of Carmen’s length driving into you and the sound of his ragged moans, mixed with the over stimulation against your clit, you can’t help but fall apart around his cock.

You squeeze yourself tight around Carmen, and he cries out, his thrusts growing slow as he joins you over the cliff, his cock thrusting up into you with spasms. His cheeks are a blush red, his tongue poking out as he follows both of your orgasms.

You fall against his chest, exhausted, pressing your cheek so that it rested against the hard muscle of his pecs. You swallow back a breath, gripping your hand around Carmen’s, as he brings it up to place a soft kiss. 

Your thighs are still shaking from stimulation, and Carmen caresses a hand across them, rubbing soft circles and you lay across his chest.

You stay like this for a moment, basking in the bliss of pleasure and sex and the soft curves and dips of your bodies.

After a bit, Carmen has to slip his out cock from your thighs, eyes fixated on the way your ecstasy mixed with his one drips down your thighs.

“Fucking gorgeous” Carmen replies, and you look up at him in surprise

“What? You don’t think I'll find you gorgeous after this?” Carmen smiles down at your flustered state, he brushes back the sweat and tears dripping down your cheeks.

“That was..you are. Well fuck, Carmen, why didn’t this happen sooner?” You reply, he manoeuvres you so that your legs lay across his thighs.

“Yeah, uh, we’ll I’ve got a whole bucket of shit you don’t want dragging you down” Carmen replies scratching his neck, suddenly more shy as he lay his heart bare to you.

“Yeah, we’ll you gave me no choice when you practically murdered that man” You reply, biting back a smile, as you press soft circles around his thumb.

“Should’ve fucking murdered him…”

“What happens now?” Carmen replies, looking at you nervous that this was you just scratching an itch, because he was head over heels in love with you and he would never recover

“God Carmen, you didn’t realise I’m in love with you already?” You reply with a smile, “Practically the entire restaurant does” 

Carmen looks up at you in wonder, his eyebrows furrowing as your words hit him hard. You loved him? You loved him. He wants you to repeat it a hundred times, he wants to hear your tongue say those words to him again.

“You are incomparable” Carmen mutters under his breath, before wrapping you tight against his chest, pressing a kiss that feels different now, less crazed and rushed and fueled by heated passion. It was new, it felt like a start of something.

“You think they’re okay out there?” You reply with a start.

“Hell no” Carmen replies, and you can’t help but laugh as you push your head through a shirt Carmen had passed to you.

You and Carm may have just confessed your love to one another, but you still had a goddamn restaurant to run.

#carmen berzatto fanfiction #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto fic #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x fem!reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmen berzatto request #neo november #neo writes #requests open #carmy the bear #carmy berzatto #carmy berzatto x angst #carmy x fem!reader #carmy x reader #carmen berzatto x angst #carmen berzatto smut #carmy #carmy berzatto smut #carmy berzatto filth #the bear #the bear fx #the bear hulu #the bear fanfiction #the bear 2022 #the bear season 2

[prettyinsophie]

burning desire

Synopsis: With Abby away at some party and your body aching and asking for release, you can’t help but touch yourself while pretending it’s your roommate.

warnings: top abby x virgin (lowkey loser) reader, fingering (r receiving), mentions of strap, squirting, r gets caught by abby, sex toys.

2.9k words

a/n: i’m going to pretend this isn’t way too specific. it’s my first time posting here so im sorry in advance if there are any mistakes, english is not my first language and i wrote this in a rush bc im going insane😇

ofelia si te sale esto no lo leas‼️

There was something utterly wrong with you.

As a girl, you went through your awful womanhood cycle and all that. You never entirely understood how all of it worked, you just ovulated when you were extremely horny and wanted to either kill yourself or everyone around you when on your period. That much you knew about your own body and every other girl went through the same.

The problem was you’ve been on fucking heat for over a month.

Your hormones were a mess, the sexual frustration consumed your being and you couldn’t find a solution. You were a virgin, and quite frankly, an awkward person so it was hard for you to even initiate small talk without quickly making it uncomfortable with your lack of social skills.

You tried distracting yourself throughout the day by attending your classes, doing homework, scrolling through Tiktok, and exercising. Even if you ended up beat by the end of the day, that damn aching between your legs would not leave you alone, and you had to touch yourself to at least make it less awful.

Unfortunately, you didn’t live alone. You shared an apartment with Abby, your high school friend who so happened to get into the same college as you. You didn’t mind, of course, you liked Abby, and now that she was grown and muscular you couldn’t deny she was a total eye-snack. Thing was, you were jealous of whoever the fuck she brought to your shared apartment, Abby must be some sort of goddess if she could make girls scream like that, begging her not to stop while choking in their tears, the bed loudly creaking to the point the blonde had to buy a new mattress. You resented it. You had to settle with sex toys while she fucked almost every week.

The amount of batteries you had in your drawer was embarrassing. Every night you had to abuse your pussy while thinking it was a certain girl doing it for you, had to get good at being silent because you’d throw yourself off the window if Abby ever heard you. Your clit ended red and puffy after an hour of nonstop intimate time with yourself, your eyes swollen because the scenarios in your head were so intense you cried while thrusting a six-inch vibrator inside you, touching that sweet spot it took some time for you to master hitting perfectly until your head went numb, and you squirted all over the pink towel you covered the bed with so you wouldn’t wet the pretty covers and sheets you slept in.

You were ashamed of how filthy your fantasies were for a twenty-year-old virgin, it always hit you once you were over, panting heavily in silence while blushing because your private thoughts and desires bugged you.

You hoped it’d all end soon, that maybe your hormones were a bit crazy just because they decided so be in a silly mood. Every girl goes through shit like this. But no. God was testing you, progressively getting needier as the days passed by. Your god-awful gorgeous friend/roommate worsened it whenever you were doing your assignments at the dining table, and she came home from the gym looking so dirty and delicious, your eyes struggling to focus on your laptop screen and not the way her muscles glistened with not-fully-dried sweat and looked like the glazed donuts you loved eating as a sweet treat, the comparison didn’t make sense, but her body made you feel hungry. You were so sexually frustrated you were convinced you had gone insane.

You wished someone would approach and straight up told you to fuck. You’d accept without second thoughts. But it was the real world, as pretty as you were, you still looked awkward and shy. Fuck your life, honestly. Why couldn’t you be dauntless like the girls who flirted with Abby? Touching her biceps while twirling their hair as they looked at her with nothing but lust and confidence. They were embarrassedly bold but they got exactly what they wanted because Abby was a sucker for pretty girls like that, she loved to fuck the cockiness out of them.

You couldn’t help but think about it every day. You were pathetic, imagining how it would feel to be under her, talking you through it, making you lie there and do nothing but take her until your legs turned into jelly and make you forget all about your stupid sex toy collection hidden in a box under your bed.

Anyways.

Tonight was going to be fun. Abby told you a friend of hers would be throwing a party, subtly inviting you, but you didn’t take the hint and told her to have fun, so off she went an hour ago, leaving you alone in your shared apartment.

Eagerly and with your heart thudding, you arranged everything before jumping right into it, at this point it was just as important in your nocturnal ritual as your skincare routine. You had bought a new toy, this one being 7.4 inches and a bit thicker than your other ones, so you were a bit excited to try it, hoping the sensation would help you release more of your frustration.

With a silky pillow under your lower back, you lied in your bed and took a deep breath, your fingers slowly rubbing your clit, making you gasp softly at the familiar but delicious feeling. Your muscles quickly relaxed as you kept circling your needy button. You didn’t need much teasing, you were already wet, arousal sneaking down and making you groan because it was icky.

Lately, you didn’t rely on your hand that much, ever since you figured out the way to hit your G spot, that’s almost all you needed to come. That being said, you took the pink toy in your hand, lining it down your entrance and teasing yourself by lubing the tip of it with your arousal, imagining it was Abby’s strap and spreading your legs. You had to be quiet every time you masturbated, but you were completely alone now and you wanted to treat yourself by taking the liberty to be as loud as you felt like. Pants and whines of desperation filled your room once you started taking inch by inch of the toy slowly. There were nights you straight up wanted to release everything and go to sleep, or nights such as this, where you felt like dragging your orgasm to make it intense and mind-breaking.

“Holy shit.” You whined once the vibrator was deep inside, you closed your eyes and played start to your fake scenarios.

In your wild fantasies, Abby would tease you, keeping her strap in place while circling your clit and making you wait for her to move. So you did that. Little whimpers left your lips while imagining her talking in your ear, whispering sweet encouraging words. You could multitask with no problem at this point, it was routine. You turned on the vibrator, hips jerking at the feeling and your lips hung as you gasped. Thrusting it slowly the fantasies grew steamier, and your cheeks flushed at the sound of your voice doing all those pathetic and pornographic sounds.

It was big. When you bought it you were so cocky about it but you were actually struggling to slide it in and out smoothly, but thankfully you were so wet it only took a few minutes. And so the madness began. In your head, Abby was fucking you with her strap, your hand moving fast and aiming for your sweet spot like your life depended on it.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” You whimpered out loud, the buzzing toy hitting the right place inside of you while you kept rubbing your clit clumsily because it felt so good.

You wanted her. Pitiful whines getting caught in your throat when you remembered Abby was far from your apartment, far from your room, and definitely far from your bed. She was probably messing around with another girl at that party. You winced at the thought, feeling like crying as you kept abusing your pussy. Imaginary Abby would slap you and grab your chin so you’d look at her, telling you to stop drifting away from her when she’s right there with you, to not listen to those silly thoughts of yours.

Your therapist would never hear of this.

“Oh my god, Abby! Please, please, please-” You were okay with being loud at this point, whatever you usually blabbered under your breath now resonating on the walls of your room.

Sometimes you wished you had four hands so you could add a little something to your intimate sessions. You wanted to know how it would feel to have her deep inside with her big and strong hand wrapped around your neck, preventing you from breathing properly while praising you. Shit. Your hand moved faster and rougher, seeking for the most realistic sensation possible. Wanting to pretend this was the real Abby pounding into you.

You needed her. Your eyes stung with tears as your chest heaved because the toy was now at the highest setting, hitting your sweet spot oh so deliciously you were even drooling.

With your eyes squinted shut your mind went fuzzy, the scenario pausing for a moment while focusing on the familiar twisting in your tummy and reaching for your orgasm. Abby was calling your name in the distance, you were so into it for a moment you felt worried about how real it went through your ears.

“Yes, yes, yes! Right there, Abby! Plea-se-!”

Your voice cracked. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you choked weak whimpers while squirting all over the towel, so intense even the toy almost flew out of your cunt. Your legs trembled and you panted loudly, riding out your fifth climax of the week. The cold air of your room hit your bare lower body and made you groan because your slick was drying up and you hated the feeling, but you also needed time to recover before cleaning your mess.

After a few moments, you sighed and opened your eyes, slightly leaning onto your side to grab your phone on the nightstand. You froze at the figure of someone standing by your door. Your stomach dropped and you could feel your heart in your throat.

Abby was there, standing with her arms crossed while looking at you with a stare you couldn’t decipher. No. This could not be happening to you. No!

“Abby-“ You sobbed, the shame betraying you by making you cry.

“How long?” She asked, her blue eyes staring into your soul even from a further distance. Her voice lower than how she usually talks to you.

“W-What?”

“How long have you wanted me to fuck you?”

The question sent a shiver down your spine. This was definitely not how you imagined it’d play out, not in one of your thousands of wet dreams.

“A while…” You mumbled embarrassed, looking away from her. Thankfully you were only naked from the hips down to your feet, you were wearing an oversized shirt that could cover your most private parts.

Abby seemed pleased with your answer. A heavy and shaky sigh left her nose as she walked to your bed.

“And you do this every night while thinking about me?”

The question (which sounded more like a statement) stabbed your core sharply. You nodded and felt your cheeks blushing in shame.

The bed creaked when she joined you in it, getting on top of you while smirking smugly. Your pretty face was adorned with confusion and embarrassment. Lips puffy from crying and your face dampened and red.

“Poor girl. Had to hear me pleasing other girls instead of you, hm? You should’ve just said so, baby.” She comforted you, brushing her fingers against your cheek, making you shiver at the unfamiliar contact.

“Didn’t want to mess with your innocence, you’re so pure I couldn’t dare break you. That’s why I used whoever wanted to throw themselves at me, but turns out that’s all you wanted all along? Wanted me to make you cry and beg?”

Holy fuck. You thought as you were getting wet again. You almost whimpered because this was the real thing. 4D Abby was on top of you and talking dirty with her husky and alluring voice.

“Yes.”

You hated yourself so much. Just a few moments ago you were so mouthy to her in your fantasy and you couldn’t even form a sentence with the real one. Abby laughed at you as if finding you amusing.

“‘Yes’ what, pretty girl?”

This was it. You were going to go for it.

“I-I want you to…fuck me and make me scream and beg for more.” You stuttered softly, looking into her eyes while batting your lashes because you couldn’t maintain eye contact.

“Yeah? I bet I can do a better job than your toys.” She leaned down, your faces closer than you ever thought they’d get, sucking the air out of your lungs.

You yelped in surprise when her fingers went down your folds, spreading the wetness as she teased your sensitive parts. “So wet, waiting for me to read your mind and touch you, huh? Gotta use your big girl words. C’mon, tell me what you want.”

Her voice melted your brain as her fingers spread your lips, making you gasp and squirm under her. You were too shy for your own good, she knew that as well but that made this more interesting. Abby wanted to see how far she could lead you, and how much control she could have on you.

“Please touch me.” Your voice was breathy and almost weak, feeling her fingers replacing your own was too much.

She circled your throbbing clit, causing you to close your eyes and whine loudly.

“You like that?”

“Y-Yes, so so much, Abby.” Your mouth was getting loose, drunk in pleasure and your head was still dizzy from your previous climax. Abby could feel herself getting wet from your reactions to minimal touch.

Poor little thing, so touch-starved. She thought while continuing to please you.

You mumbled curses and her name under your breath. Hands gripping the covers of your bed tightly because she was the one touching you, you had no control over the speed nor the pressure her fingers had on your sensitive bud. Your legs squirmed as you spread them further so she’d position herself more comfortably between them.

“Want you inside, n-need you inside!” You begged pathetically, looking at her with half-lidded eyes.

Abby couldn’t believe this. This was too good to be true and she couldn’t wait anymore either. She kept boundaries out of respect, she knew you were a virgin and had no experience, and she didn’t want to scare you off with her deprived desires. Yet you were there, asking her with tears in your eyes to fill you up. You were so desperate she wanted to eat you alive.

“‘M gonna use my fingers, doll. Don’t wanna fuck you with the same strap I use with other girls. I’m going to get you your own, and I’m going to fuck this horniness out of you. You’ll only need me.” She whispered in your ear before shoving two of her fingers inside you, gaining a loud whimper from you.

Her fingers were thick and long, she filled you up almost perfectly you didn’t want this moment to end. Your chest raised up and down as you struggled to breathe properly. She moved them in and out, curling them expertly inside your warm walls.

“Faster, please.”

Abby knew once you two were done tonight, every time she’d hear the word ‘please’ from you would be a trigger. She wanted to tease you, drag you to the edge, but she was aware of how frustrated you felt and it was pitiful. So she let you give her orders, just this once though.

She hit it. That magnificent spot of yours that sent you to the moon. You were a moaning mess, hairs sticking to your forehead with sweat while she kept thrusting her fingers forcefully.

“Fuck, Abby! There, holy fuck.” You blabbered, your back arching off the bed, and the pillow under you helped to reach your g spot smoothly. Abby was also panting, even groaning because you were giving her a show. The things she’d do to you from now on, whew, she was going to ruin you.

“So pretty, taking my fingers so well. Want you to come all over them, doll. You think you can do that for me?”

Nodding drastically up and down, she sped up if that was even possible. Your tummy swooped and you didn’t realize you had tears running down your cheeks. Abby’s face was blurry and your eyes struggled to focus. Your hand found her bicep, clawing it with your acrylic nails as you reached the delicious bliss.

“Shitshitshit!”

Moaning Abby’s name and profanities, you came on her fingers and probably her pants as well. You kept squirting while sobbing because you’ve never experienced an orgasm like this one, your legs shaking against your will. Now you were panting, catching your breath and when you opened your eyes and met with hers, reality hit you.

You opened your puffy lips to say something, but Abby cut you off.

“Next time it’ll be my cock.”

#abby anderson smut #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson #abby tlou #abby x reader #abby x fem!reader #abby smut #tlou2 #abby fanfiction #abby anderson fanfic

[drudyslut]

— warnings: smut!! 18+ mean!rafe, degrading, edging, orgasm denial, fingering, face fucking, some slapping, hair pulling, unprotected sex (literally don’t do that), slight breeding kink, rafe is called daddy once, aaand lmk if i missed any!!

— note: helllloooo, i hope y’all enjoy this. i wrote this while watching obx and rafe being the unhinged king that he is!! 😮‍💨 it really helped set the anger in him. reblogs and feedback are VERY appreciated! love you all, mwah!

❥ i don't care who sees, princess- r.c

Getting involved with Rafe Cameron had to be at the top of your list of things you never imagined you’d do.

You’d been secretly been seeing the oldest Cameron child for a couple of months. It all started at a kegger, Rafe had seen you standing across the beach with your friends and was instantly drawn to you.

That’s where it all had started, and that’s also what had started the instant obsession Rafe had toward you, resulting in him losing his shit when he saw you talking to one of your best friends, John B.

“I just don’t fucking understand why you’re talking to him, am I not enough for you?” Rafe shouts, blocking your way out of his bedroom.

“Rafe! He’s been my best friend for years now! I don’t see the fucking problem, it’s not like we’re dating!”

Rafe chuckles darkly, taking a step toward you and wrapping his hand around your throat, an action that would normally be a turn on for you, but now, now it was just scary.

You give Rafe a look of warning, your hands clawing at his arm, trying to push him off of you.

“Rafe, let me go!” You shout, squirming underneath his grip.

Rafe releases his grip on your throat, stepping out of your way and letting you walk out of his room. You glance back, noting the look of anger on his face before you turned and sprinted down the spiral staircase and out of his front door.

That was a week ago, and ever since that day Rafe has been blowing your phone up, phone calls and text messages every single day for a week. You’d been letting all of the calls go to voicemail, reading and ignoring every text— texts that ranged from half hearted apologies to straight up anger.

You were currently laid in your bed, scrolling through Netflix, trying to find something to watch when the sound of a loud banging from your front door caught your attention.

Bang bang bang

You knit your brows in confusion, wondering who was beating on your door this early in the morning. You decide to ignore it, whoever it was would go away eventually.

But they didn’t. More pounding on your front door followed by the sound of Rafe’s angered voice booms through your house.

Bang bang bang

“Y/N, open this fucking door, I swear I’ll kick it down, don’t test me right now”

You quickly jump from your bed, grabbing your hoodie from the back of your desk chair and tossing it on before making your way down the small hallway and into your living room.

You inch toward the front door slowly, wondering what the fuck Rafe was doing at your house. The sound of his fists hitting on the door again make you jump.

You quickly unlock the door, swinging it open to find Rafe’s angry demeanor standing before you.

“Rafe what the fuck are you doing here?”

“Why have you been ignoring me?” He responds quickly, taking a step toward you resulting in you taking a step backward.

You peak your head past him, making sure none of your neighbors were awake before grabbing his arm and pulling him past the threshold and into your living room.

You quickly shut the door and lock it, turning on your heels to face Rafe. “Rafe, you can’t be here. People will see your truck and start talking”

He chuckles, taking a step toward you and wrapping his hand around your throat, pushing your back flush into the front door.

“I don’t care who sees, princess. Why have you been ignoring me?”

You bite at your bottom lip, the grip he had on your throat making your pussy ache for him. You look up at him with lust filled eyes, batting your lashes at him as you struggled to speak.

“I-I just needed t-time to th-think”

The corners of Rafe’s lips upturn into a smirk, his eyes turning dark as he watched the way his touch made you flustered.

“Is anyone home?”

“N-no. Why?” You ask, the ache between your legs growing, squeezing your thighs together to try and relieve the ache.

Rafe releases the grip on your throat, leaning his head down to your ear, his breath fanning over your skin as he whispered in your ear sending a shudder through your body. “Because i’m about to show you why it’s not a good idea to ignore me”

You open your mouth to speak but quickly shut it when Rafe harshly presses his lips against yours. He wraps his hands around your thighs, lifting you up effortlessly, his hands making purchase on your ass. You wrap your legs around his torso, hands flying to the back of his neck as your lips move fervently together. Rafe begins walking down the small hallway toward your bedroom, removing one hand from your ass to open the door and step inside. He kicks it shut behind him, walking toward your bed and tossing you down onto the mattress.

“Don’t ever. Ignore me again, alright?”

You nod your head slowly, watching as he pulls his white t-shirt over his head and tossing it onto your bedroom floor. You begin to salivate at the sight of his tanned, muscular body on display for you, always loving the sight of him.

Rafe climbs on top of you, his hands firmly planted on both sides of your body. “I’m gonna fuck you until you can’t walk. Gonna fuck you until you can’t even think straight, you’re gonna be so fucking drunk on my cock when I’m done with you, you’ll never ignore me again”

He presses his lips harshly against yours once more, slipping his tongue into your mouth as he runs a hand up your side, pushing your hoodie up and revealing your bare stomach.

He runs his hand up more, cupping one of your breasts tightly, fingers toying with your hardened nipple. You moan into his mouth as he pinches and tugs at your sensitive bud. Rafe smiles against your lips, tugging your bottom lip between his teeth and sucking at it softly.

“R-Rafe, please” You whimper, your hands running up the sides of his arms, fingernails digging into the flesh leaving half crescent marks on the skin.

He chuckles, lifting himself up on his hands and staring down at you. “Please what, baby? Use your words”

“Need to feel you, please. Need more”

Rafe grins, setting himself on his knees and tugging the fabric of your hoodie up and over your head. He swipes his tongue across his bottom lip, sucking in a sharp breath at the sight of your bare chest.

His hands fly to your tits, cupping them both in his large hands as he begins leaving sloppy, wet kisses all over your jaw and neck.

He moves his head down, pulling one of you nipples into his mouth and sucking, quickly switching to the other one and repeating his actions. He lets your nipple slip from his mouth with a pop, placing soft kisses on both of your breasts.

“Such pretty tits, and they’re all mine”

You squeeze your thighs together, the ache between your legs becoming more and more unbearable. You lift yourself up on your elbows, shifting onto your knees, hands flying to grasp Rafe’s hard cock through the fabric of his sweatpants.

“Needy, aren’t we princess?”

You nod your head, tugging at the waistband of his sweatpants. Rafe tsks, removing your hands from his waistband and pinning them onto the mattress.

“You’ve been such a brat this past week, ignoring me, treating me like i’m not good enough for you, so you’re not going to make a move, unless I say you can. Got it?”

You sigh. “Got it”

Rafe let’s out a deep breath, shaking his head. “Got it? No no sweetheart, you know what you’re supposed to say to me. Say it”

“Y-Yes, daddy. I-I won’t make a move, unless you say so”

“That’s my good girl”

Rafe hooks his fingers into the waistband of your lace panties, sliding them down your legs. You shudder as the tips of his fingers run down your legs slowly.

You gasp when he runs his thick fingers through your slick folds, gathering your arousal on his fingers. He slips his index finger inside your soaked cunt, pushing it in and out slowly, his thumb pressing firmly against your clit, rubbing slow and gentle circles around it.

“Such a pretty pussy, love how wet she gets, just for me”

You let out a whimper, bucking your hips forward.

“Rafe, please. Faster”

Rafe grins, slipping another finger inside you. He picks up the pace of his fingers, harshly thrusting them in and out of you, loud moans falling from your lips when he curves them slightly, hitting your g-spot repeatedly.

You grind your hips against his hand, tears flowing down your face as his thumb continued rubbing sloppy circles around your sensitive bundle of nerves, his fingers continuing to work your soaked cunt.

You feel the coil tightening in your belly, your inner walls clenching uncontrollably around his fingers as your orgasm threatening to burst out of you.

“R-Rafe, s’close, oh my God, s’fucking close” you mewl, throwing your head back into your pillows, eyes squeezed shut as you harshly gripped at your bed sheets.

Rafe quickly pulls his fingers from you, making you groan from the empty feeling, pissed off that he had stopped right as you were about to cum.

“Rafe what the fuck?!” You shout, propping yourself up on your elbows and staring at him, a smug grin plastered on his lips.

“Brats like you don’t get to cum, not that easily at least”

You open your mouth to speak, but Rafe’s fingers being shoved down your throat cut you off. You gag around his fingers, tears brimming at your eyes again as he shoves them further down your throat.

“Taste yourself baby, so fucking sweet. Maybe if you listen, I’ll let you cum when I fuck you”

You inhale through your nose, submitting to him and sucking lightly on his fingers. You swirl your tongue around his thick digits, lapping up every drop of your arousal from his fingers.

You watch in awe as Rafe throws his head back, enjoying the feel of your mouth wrapped around his fingers. “Such a good fucking girl, fuck. I love how fucking easy it is to make you submit”

He pulls his fingers from your mouth, hands quickly pushing his sweatpants down his legs, leaving him in nothing but his boxers.

Your hands fly to grasp his hard cock through the flimsy fabric, stroking his length softly, a low, throaty groan falling from his lips.

“Fuck, what did I say? No fucking touching. You don’t— shit — you don’t make a fucking move unless I say so. Now. I have to punish you, baby”

Rafe wraps his hand around your throat, pulling you up and sitting you on your knees. He places a sloppy kiss to your lips, his free hand shoving his boxers down his legs and tossing them onto your floor. He tightens the grip on your throat, spitting into his free hand and stroking his cock.

“Suck”

You look up at him, hesitantly leaning forward and wrapping your lips around him. He releases the grip on your throat, wrapping his fingers in your hair and shoving himself fully into your mouth, the swollen head of his cock hitting the back of your throat, making you gag around him.

You hollow your cheeks, bobbing your head up and down his length at a quick pace. Drool runs down the sides of your mouth, his fingers digging into your scalp as tears blurred your vision.

Rafe grips at your hair tighter, pulling you off of him harshly, getting off of your bed, standing at the side and turning your body. He positions himself with your mouth again, thrusting into your mouth again. You place both hands on his thighs, steadying yourself as he pounds himself into your throat.

You’re a drooling, gagging mess. Rafe’s brutal thrusts pick up in speed, making you gag uncontrollably around him. You feel his thrusts grow sloppy, his hips stuttering as he chases his high.

You feel his dick twitch in your mouth, a string of curse words falling from his lips as hot, white ropes of his cum fill your mouth. He holds your face against his pelvis, filling your mouth with his seed before pulling you off of him.

You swallow his load, licking your lips and wiping the drool from your mouth with the back of your hand.

“Fuck. I always love abusing that pretty little throat of yours, baby”

You smile, swiping your tongue across your bottom lip as you try and steady your breathing.

Rafe climbs back onto the bed, pushing you back onto the mattress and pressing his lips to yours. He groans when he slips his tongue in your mouth, tasting himself on your tongue.

He grasps his cock between his hands, sliding it between your slick folds, wetting the head of his cock before he harshly thrusts himself inside you.

You gasp when you feel the head of his cock hit your sweet spot. “Fuuuuck, Rafe, feels so good”

Rafe pulls himself out of you slowly before he sinks himself back in. He begins pounding his hips into yours, his hands tightly gripping at your thighs as he pushes himself in and out of your soaked pussy at a brutal pace.

“So fucking wet, so tight. Tell me that you only get this fucking wet for me!”

“O-Only f- shit! Only for y-you, Rafe!”

Rafe smirks, jutting his tongue out of his mouth as he focuses on his thrusts. The squelching sound of your pussy fills the room, Rafe’s balls smacking at your ass with every push and pull of his hips pushing your closer to your release.

“R-Rafe! S’fucking close! Fuck fuck fuck, p-please!”

Rafe snakes his hand between your legs, pressing his fingers firmly against your clit, rubbing sloppy circles around it.

“Don’t you dare cum, not until I say you can”

A loud moan falls from your lips, biting down harshly on your bottom lip as you try and stave off your orgasm, not wanting to upset Rafe anymore than you already had.

“You’ve been such a fucking brat lately, thinking you can just fucking ignore me for a week, then thinking you’re just gonna get to cum whenever you want? Stupid little whores like you, don’t get their way”

Rafe cups one of your tits with his free hand, toying with your nipple as he continues his sloppy circles on your clit. He smacks your tit harshly, pulling a whine from your lips from the sting you felt.

“Rafe! P-please!”

Rafe chuckles, a dark look in his eyes as he continues pushing himself roughly inside you. You feel your walls clenching around him, squeezing around his cock like a vice. You were unsure how much longer you could hold off your orgasm, the coil in your belly burning brightly.

“Shut up. Don’t cum” Rafe shouts, landing a harsh smack to your cheek.

You feel his thrusts growing sloppier as he chases his own high, his cock repeatedly hitting at your g-spot. Tears blur your vision as you hold your cheek, trying to soothe the sting from his slap.

“Gonna fill this pussy up, gonna breed you so no other guy on this island wants to fucking touch you” Rafe grunts out, pushing himself into a few more times before he stills inside you.

You feel the warmth of his cum filling you, Rafe slowly and sensually thrusting inside you a few more times before he pulls himself from you.

You whine as Rafe pulls himself off of you, standing from your bed and pulling his boxers up his legs.

“Really, Rafe? I didn’t even get to finish once! What the fuck?”

He takes one long stride toward you, using his fingers to gather his cum, pushing it back inside you. “I told you. Brats like you don’t get to cum. But don’t worry baby, you’re coming home with me, maybe I’ll let you cum sometime today”

rafe masterlist | taglist form

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron x pogue!reader #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe smut #rafe cameron brainrot #rafe fic #rafe fanfiction #rafe obx #obx smut #obx x reader #obx fic #obx rafe cameron

[venuzasmuse]

I WISH YOU WERE A BOY [bestfriend!ellie]

(id love to credit whoever made this divider but irdk who did i’m sorry 😭😭)

warnings: (not proofread i wrote this in like 15 mins lol) ANGST ANGST ANGST, hints at religious trauma, religious parents, internalized homophobia if you squint

author’s note: i wrote this based off of a situationship i had 😭 def not projecting…… also y’all should totally listen to keep on loving you by cigarettes after sex (i listened to it while writing this so hopefully it’ll set the tone)

best friend!ellie who you met for the first time in your sophmore year of highschool. you had just transferred to a small all girls catholic high school in the outskirts of austin, texas having had just moved states. you were quiet and completely out of ellie’s extroverted vicinity of a personality. yet, they say opposites attract and you two were pulled together like magnets.

best friend!ellie who taught you the ropes of everything you knew. from your music taste down to the smallest complimentary accessories you infiltrated into your style. you were completely immersed with love for her that it nearly swallowed you whole. anyone you ever met would have to know her to truly understand you. y’all were just that close.

best friend!ellie who comforted you the first time you got your heart broken by some stupid boy you met at a football game. he began to pursue you and practically begged to take you out. “be ready at 7” he proposed with boyish charm and you couldn’t help but to be swooned, as any naïve teenage girl would. yet 8 rolled around the corner, and the only thing sweeping you off your feet was the feeling of rain droplets beating down on your hair and a pit of embarrassment that coiled in your stomach as you stood in a pretty white dress on the corner of a cafe. the only person to show up for you was ellie who was at your beck and call whenever you needed her.

best friend!ellie who sat with you in her car for nearly 30 minutes as the rain beat down on her windowsills. she wiped away at the mascara mixed tears on your cheek and an unfamiliar feeling began to unravel in your gut as she went on a rant about how perfect you were and how you didn’t need the guy whose name you couldn’t even seem to recall anymore.

best friend!ellie who was the only girl you realized made you feel this way and it scared you. you always knew you weren’t completely straight but this set everything in stone for you. yet, admitting it out loud was the last thing you wanted to do. it would only make the situation all the more real to you and you didn’t know how much of that you could handle.

best friend!ellie who made your stomach churn every single time she’d bring up another girl romantically in front of you. she’d ramble about some girl she was talking to and you couldn’t do anything but suck it up and pretend like you were happy for her but deep down you hated it. all of it. all you wanted to do was bury yourself in the grave you dug because you didn’t want to ruin anything between the two of you. ellie williams was the only person who had enough of you to completely tear you apart.

best friend!ellie who read your body language better than anyone else. your parents were spewing unsolicited comments about some taboo magazine about a same-sex couple one day while she was at your house. her head was rested atop your leg as you tried to drown out your parent’s conversation. your gaze fell on her and you smiled apologetically wanting to block out the rest of the world in that moment.

best friend!ellie who you smoked your first joint with as y’all snuck out of your parent’s house and to a nearby park across town. giggling and low eyed, y’all talked about the stupidest things as y’all shared a pair of cheap earbuds. the moon gleamed brighter than it usually did that night and cigarettes after sex blared through the earbuds lodged in your ears as you realize then you were in love with ellie williams.

best friend!ellie who laughed and asked why you were staring at her that way. “i wish you were a boy.” you said without thinking. maybe it was the way the light reflected off her freckled face or the way the drug coursed through your system, but the words slipped faster out your mouth before your brain could process them. her brows furrow and green eyes dance over you features searching for any type of emotion that emitted from your expression. “what?”

best friend!ellie who kept trying to get in touch with you ever since that night. you were relentlessly drowning yourself in shame and embarrassment. the remembrance of what you said made you feel foolish. but no amount shame can mask the guilt you felt every time you remembered the way ellie’s face fell as soon as you said what you did. you couldn’t say anything else after. all you did was brush it off and insist y’all go back home. the walk back was silent and tension brewed between the proximity of the two of you.

best friend!ellie who called you again at 11 pm in attempt to talk about that night. you were about to decline it but your guilt ate away at you. you agreed to meet her on your porch to talk. you planned on apologizing for both saying what you did and avoiding it. “i didn’t mean it. i was just high.” the excuse played on a loop inside your head. you were set on just leaving the situation and your feelings for her in a puddle of voided nothingness but closure didn’t come easy for you when she was actually in front of you now.

best friend!ellie who sat patiently outside your house. she was clad in a black sweatshirt, washed out blue jeans, and the same dirty converses she wore daily. she spared you a familiar smile as you sat down next to her trading her one as well.

best friend!ellie who watched as you began to fumble over your explanation in a panic. “i don’t know why i said that. god, i’m so stupid i’m so sorry.” you sniffled and gentle hands pulled you into a soft hug. for the first time in a week, you let yourself fall apart in her embrace and somehow, everything you thought you felt began to disperse. it was in that moment, that you accepted you would’ve loved her either way. whether she was a boy or a girl. it didn’t matter to you as long as you got the same soul in whatever body she was in. pulling away from her arms, your hand snakes over the nape of her neck as you press a kiss on her lips and she returns the energy reverently.

#don’t fall for straight girls like me guys 😞🤞 #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams headcanons #ellie x you #ellie x y/n #ellie x fem reader #tlou2 #tlou #ellie tlou #ellie the last of us #the last of us #angst with a happy ending #angst #light angst #kinda sad #SoundCloud

[badass-queer-couples-battle]

Sword gays showdown, round 3, bracket three

Propaganda:

For Ballister:

he could tell when his sword was switched out for a fake, graduated top of his class so we know he's a good fighter, also the scene where he's fighting is hot because he's so confident with a sword in his hand, also he's gay

A canonically gay, disabled, South Asian man takes down the government with his genderqueer shapeshifter sidekick/adopted daughter! He has a swordfight with his ex-boyfriend! in which he defeats about 20 knights singlehandedly! 

top of his knight class this man is a master swordsman

(Movie) He has used a sword since he broke into the Institutes training ground and ended up becoming a knight

He has very divorced vibes with Ambrosius and he uses a sword.

He's a legit knight! So, it's in the fine print.

According to the Nimona movie, Ballister here has been practicing the art of sword fighting since childhood to earn the trust of the city and he was SO CLOSE to becoming a knight. He's also definitely not dating another one of his knight mates (?). Nope. Not at all. This movie is super straight /s I think he also beats an entire army of knights with nothing but his sword and a chaotic good shapshifter so that's pretty cool. He's also south Asian, has a prosthetic arm he made himself and is honestly such a goofy guy (in a good way ofc) if that's anything.

For Amaya:

Badass super strong disabled lesbian general who can and will take you out. Doesn't need a sword to punch you into next week, but will use one anyway.

She’s married to another sword gay and she’s also disabled so I love her very much 

First deaf character I saw in any cartoon, she's very badass and protects her kingdom's border, later falls in love with an elf warrior princess she once fought. In the new season, they're planning their wedding while trying to navigate political tensions between the elf society and humans. Some of the elves aren't super into the idea of a human marrying one of them, which isn't for homophobic reasons but still (I believe) meant to mirror real world conservatives (really liked a scene with Janai's brother telling Amaya she's fine as a girlfriend for Janai but actually *marrying* her is too controversial and political. Whoever wrote this did a really good job).

She’s currently engaged to another lady, she uses a sword, is a general badass.

General Amaya is a standard sword lesbian with a cool shield and some funny "lines" example: "This bread is...." *bashes bread on table with no damage to the bread* "Weapons grade"

#sword gays showdown #ballister blackheart #general amaya #the dragon prince #nimona #ballister boldheart #tdp

[aethes-bookshelf]

empty eyes, emptier words || astarion/tav/halsin

I've been stuck in BG3 hell since the game first came out. I'm still in there. I don't think I'll be coming out anytime soon, so have this piece of angst. If everything goes well, maybe I'll deliver on some devil fucking (ft. Haarlep & Raphael). But that's a big IF.

For now, take this. I wrote it in class. I was supposed to be paying attention, but I made this instead. Bon appétit.

Warnings: angst, hurt/no comfort, tav straight up fucking dies

Pairing: astarion/tav/halsin

Wordcount: 1.4k

Summary: Orin knew exactly who to take to hit those troublesome True Souls the hardest. Their leader was the obvious choice - a chicken can only run so far if you take its head. Tav would make a beautiful sacrifice for Bhaal.

And if anyone came to try and get them back? All the better. Blood will flow either way. And what a sight it'll be.

[I made some changes to Orin's dagger. Now, whoever gets killed with it can't be resurrected. Or can they?]

ao3 link || part 2

Orin turned around at the first sound of footsteps. She brandished her dagger, her Netherstone embedded in the cold metal of the weapon. She was standing on the sacrificial altar at the center of the temple. Beneath her laid Tav, arms and legs bound. They were unconscious, fresh and old wounds littering their body. The little clothing they wore stuck to their skin, wet with blood. The smell of it hit Astarion like a club to the head. He hated how his mouth instantly watered, hunger rearing its ugly head.

‘I don’t smell Gortash’s rot on you,’ Orin said, crouching by Tav’s body. She dragged her blade across their skin. Fresh blood bubbled to the surface. Tav didn’t even flinch. They were barely breathing.

‘Did it think it could trick me? Did it think it could save?’ Orin taunted, her dagger stopping right over Tav’s heart. Astarion could hear its faint beating.

The heat of Karlach’s anger burned the air around her. ‘I hope you’re not about to do what I think you are. For your sake.’ Her massive ax sliced through the pungent air, tail swishing behind her.

Halsin didn’t speak, but his eyes glowed bright gold. His hands were clenched at his sides, anger barely restrained.

Astarion unsheathed his own daggers, their weight a fleeting comfort. ‘You lay one more finger on them, I’ll rip your throat out,’ he said. A growl ripped itself out of his throat.

‘Your teeth aren’t sharp enough to pierce my throat,’ said Orin. The tip of her dagger sank into Tav’s chest. ‘Not enough to slice my flesh, taste my blood.’ She drew back her hand, dagger rising into the air. A speck of blood followed its tip.

Astarion clenched his jaw so hard his teeth hurt. His upper lip drew back; he bared his fangs on instinct.

‘Even if you kill them, all you’ll achieve is pissing us off,’ said Karlach. Her words were confident, but her voice betrayed her; she was afraid. ‘We’ll just bring them back so they can spit on your fucking corpse after I split you in half, you crazy bitch.’

None of them liked the way Orin laughed at those words. ‘“Bring them back”? Not here. Not with Bhall’s blessing.’ She grinned, showing all of her teeth. ‘They’ll be the first sacrifice of the night. Then I’ll spill your blood and guts on their flayed skin.’ A shiver ran through Orin as she brought her dagger down.

The blade sank into Tav’s chest with a sickening squelch. They gasped, body going rigid for just a second. Then they went limp.

Astarion’s scream rang through the still air as Karlach charged the altar.

* * *

Astarion knelt down by the bodies laying on the stairs and started rifling through their pockets.

‘What the hell are you doing, Fangs?’ asked Karlach. Tears were evaporating off of her face, her infernal engine still hot with her battle rage. The ashes of a used scroll of revivify were cooling at her feet. The spell's energy had already ran out and Tav was still limp, their body slowly going rigid.

‘I’m looting, can’t you tell?’ Astarion’s voice was snappy, but even. ‘Tav’s usually the one to take everything that’s not nailed down but they obviously can’t do it this time, can they?’

He leaned down over a pile of smoking bones and burned blood that used to be a man once. ‘They always find something for us in these piles of trash, I thought it’d be… nice to do the same for them for once.’ He managed to fish out a rusted dagger from underneath the pile.

‘Astarion,’ said Karlach, voice breaking.

‘Besides, their favorite tea ran out a few days ago, so we’re gonna need stuff to sell.’ He leaned over the pile of Orin’s gore next. ‘Tav spent most of our money on some new armor for you and Gale, and that tea’s expensive, you know?’ He took Orin’s dagger. His hands were shaking.

‘Astarion,’ Karlach tried again. The low hiss of evaporating tears got louder.

‘They deserve to drink something good when they come back, no?’ Astarion stood up straight. His grip on Orin’s dagger was so tight his chuckles went paper-white.

‘Astarion,’ Karlach’s voice was low and thick with tears, ‘I don’t think they’re coming ba—’

‘Don’t you dare finish that sentence.’ Astarion was quick to turn around and point the dagger at Karlach’s chest. ‘Don’t you dare finish that sentence.’ For the first time since they arrived at the temple, his voice broke. ‘Of course they’re coming back. Why do we keep that creepy skeleton around if not to bring us back in times like these?’

His eyes watered. ‘They’re coming back. They have to. They must. Even if that means I’ll have to drag them out of the Hells myself.’

Astarion’s eyes wandered to Tav’s broken corpse. They were still laying on the altar, the stone of it slick with their drying blood. He couldn’t see their face; Halsin’s shoulders were obstructing the view. Astarion could swear the druid was shaking too.

‘Halsin, they’re coming back, right? They’re coming back!’ If Astarion’s heart still beat, it’d be fluttering with rising panic.

Halsin’s voice was low and quiet. He kept stroking Tav’s matted hair as he spoke. ‘I’m not sure they will, my friend.’

Those words punched all air out of Astarion’s lungs. Fury replaced it.

‘Shut up!’ he screamed; his voice echoed in the empty temple. ‘We were supposed to have decades together. Decades! They can’t leave yet. They promised!’ His knees buckled. With every word he spoke, he sank lower and lower, until his knees hit the cold stone beneath him. ‘They promised we’d… We were supposed to find a way for me to be in the sun again,’ his voice faded into silence.

Astarion couldn’t speak anymore. His chest clenched and his eyes burned. He wanted to scream. He wanted to rage and kill, and tear. He wanted to bring Orin back just so he could send her to her blasted god all over again. He wanted to hear Tav laugh at one of his stupid jokes.

His throat was clenched so tight not even sobs could escape it. He was vaguely aware Halsin’s shoulders were openly shaking with his grief, but he couldn’t bring himself to comfort the druid. That would mean looking at Tav’s empty eyes. That would make this entire nightmare real. So very, terribly real.

Astarion’s grip on Orin’s dagger loosened; the weapon fell with a loud cling, its Netherstone slipping out of it. The stone shone dimly in the light of the torches.

All of it for these stones. All this death, pain and misery for these three pieces of one whole. Tav died for it.

Meaningless, meaningless, meaningless. All of it. All of it!

Astarion’s mind was reeling; jumping from pain to denial to anger to desperation. He didn’t know what to do. Tav would know, he thought, and a fresh wave of tears fell.

Karlach laid a hand on his shoulder. She’d cooled down enough for her touch to be only slightly painful on his corpse-cold skin. ‘We have to go, Fangs. Halsin.’ Her grip on Astarion tightened when he shook his head. ‘We have to go,’ she repeated, harsher this time. Barely restrained emotion shook her voice. ‘If they even can come back, we need to get them back to camp as soon as possible.’

Halsin took a deep breath and wiped his face with the back of his hand. ‘Karlach’s right,’ he said and stood up. Tav was limp as he cradled them close to his chest. To his heart. ‘If we stay here too long, we’ll certainly lose them for good.’ The druid squared his shoulders and turned to face the other two.

Astarion went rigid at the sight of Tav’s hand, limply hanging off the side of their body. He couldn’t bring himself to look up at their face.

‘Astarion,’ Halsin’s voice was soft, ‘I understand your pain. They are in my heart as they are in yours. But we mustn't waste time lest we lose them forever. If there is a chance to save them, we must act now.’

Astarion swallowed down the bile rising in his throat. The chill of death had never been more present in his bones. He nodded, silent, and picked up Orin’s dagger and Netherstone.

‘Let’s go,’ said Karlach, new-found determination on her face. ‘We still have to buy their favorite tea after this, right? How’d you put it, Fangs? “They deserve to drink something good after this”?’

Astarion nodded. He didn’t trust his voice not to break if he spoke. There was an empty, far-away look in his eyes.

As they left the temple of Bhaal, the sweet stench of blood followed them out.

#my writing #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #halsin x tav #halsin x reader #astarion x tav x halsin #angst #hurt/no comfort #major character death #x reader #gender neutral tav #ambiguous ending

[lustfulslxt]

hii can u do a smut femxmatt fic where they meet at a party and they like are kinda drunk and matt’s really flirty and touchy and they just end up fucking!! ty!!!

(kinda like ur party revelations one but maybe they’re both influencers or u could even do chris!)

Under The Influence - Chris Sturniolo

warnings : alcohol consumption, smut

a/n : i wrote this for chris bc as you said, i have party revelations for matt, and a friend of mine received a request just like this for matt. xx

—

Tie it up, put a chain on it

Make you tattoo my name on it

“Will you please come?” Sage begs, shaking my hand up and down, on the verge of a temper tantrum.

“You’re literally being ridiculous.” I chuckle, shaking my head. “I don’t see what difference it would make if I were there or not.”

Sage has been asking me to go to this party with her for weeks now. However, my answer has been a constant no. I’m not a fan of parties, much less big influencer parties. Too much drama always stems from them; whether it’s so and so cheated, whoever’s beefing, they did this, they did that. They never fail to have some dumb shit pop off, hence why I’d just rather not go. I don’t need anyone attempting to ruin my reputation and career just for their own benefit, I’m good.

“Because you’re my best friend and I need you. You’re my hype man and wingman all in one. Please! Just this once! I’ll do anything!” She continues to plead.

I sigh, ultimately knowing I’ll cave, “This is the only party you’re going to convince me to go to. You know how I feel about being around a bunch of fake and dramatic fucks.”

She instantly starts jumping up and down, cheering whilst shaking my hands again. “We’re leaving in three hours, so make sure you’re ready. Also, we’re gonna uber so we can get fucked up.”

I just shake my head, not really looking forward to the night ahead of me. But maybe, just maybe, I can get drunk and enjoy myself. Dismissing my thoughts, I turn on some music and head to my bathroom to begin getting ready.

I take a long shower, thoroughly washing and exfoliating myself. I shave and do a hair and face mask, prepping myself for tonight. After getting out, I dry off and apply vanilla scented lotion to every part of my body.

Next, I slip on my undergarments and apply deodorant, then head to my closet to choose an outfit. It doesn’t take me long, before I choose a plain, black mini skirt and tube top with a long sleeve mesh dress paired over it that had gems scattered all over. I stick with a pair of black lace up pumps to go with my outfit. Sitting down at my vanity, I go through my makeup, debating on what kind of look I want. After pondering for a moment, I just choose a dark smokey eye with a basic beat. I line my lips with a medium dark brown and apply clear lip gloss, blending it all together flawlessly. For hair, I just stick with a basic blow out.

“Great! You’re ready!” Sage suddenly cheers from my bedroom door.

I look over and see that she’s fully dressed and ready to go, holding a bottle of vodka in her hand. Upon seeing that, my eyebrows raise.

“Why the face?” She asks, before registering it. “Oh, this! It’s for a little pregame. So, come on.”

I shrug and gather everything I need for tonight, placing it in my purse, then follow her downstairs. She already has two shot glasses set out on our dining room table, ready to be filled. Without another word, she fills both glasses to the rim with vodka, smirking at me as she raises her glass.

“Cheers to a great night!” She grins, clinking my glass with hers, both of us downing the harsh liquor.

My face contorts in disgust as the liquid flows down my throat, and I can’t help but cringe at the awful taste. Immediately, my chest is hot and I don’t want anymore. I’m not really a drinker, but I already know I can’t be sober in order to get through this night. We both take two more shots before our uber arrives and we’re heading to the party.

The driver talked our ears off the whole ride, so when we finally shut the doors of the black suv, we both sigh and fall into a fit of tipsy laughter. We’re not drunk, but neither are we completely sober.

Upon walking into the party, we’re met with a glowing red light, loud music, the smell of alcohol and weed, and a ginormous amount of people all chatting and dancing throughout the house.

“Y/N! Sage!” A voice calls out, directing our attention towards them.

It’s one of Sage’s friends, one I personally am not a fan of, but I know how to be nice. I shoot her tight lipped smile, leaving Sage to greet her.

“Hey! It’s been so long, how are you?” Sage asks, pulling her into a hug.

Before she can respond, I quickly interrupt, “Sorry, I’m gonna go get a drink.”

And with that, I’m making my way through the crowd of people, in search of the kitchen. It takes me about five minutes to get through everyone and I’m already slightly disgusted at the sweaty bodies and the lack of personal space. I’m not lying when I say parties aren’t my thing.

Finally being able to breathe in the less packed room, I deeply inhale and exhale, ridding myself of the building nerves. I walk over to the counter, grabbing a solo cup from the stack and browsing through the bottles of alcohol. I opt for an unopened bottle of vodka, not wanting to risk anything that may or may not have been tainted. I fill my cup up a little over half way, then turn towards the cooler to grab a chaser. More people have already piled into the kitchen, there now being less room to roam around. I reach into the cooler, grabbing the last can of pepsi, only for it to come up with another hand attached to it. My gaze trails up the veiny hand, following the arm it’s attached to, to observe who it is.

Bright blue eyes, pink lips, a sharp jawline, and wavy hair. A silver Vivienne Westwood chain hanging from his neck, sitting atop a white t-shirt that had a bear in a watering can, surrounded my grass and little flowers. Blue jeans and, last but not least, white air forces covering his feet.

He looks familiar. Hot, yet still familiar.

“Oh, hi.” He grins, snapping me from my thoughts.

That’s when I realize we’re both still holding the can, but I don’t let go.

“Hi.” I reply, my gaze set on his face.

“I think this is the last pepsi.” He points out.

I nod, raising my eyebrows at the obvious statement. “Yeah, I noticed.”

“Pepsi’s my favorite.” He adds.

I can’t help the smirk that tugs on my lips, “Do you want a cookie?”

He shakes his head, chuckling, “I can’t have it?”

I only repeat his action and shake my head in return, pursing my lips to keep the smile from forming.

“Can we share it?” He asks, giving me puppy dog eyes.

And just like that, I’m folding. With a shrug, I pull the can from his grip. I open it up and dump some of its contents into my cup, then bring the can up to my lips, taking a drink all whilst holding eye contact. I notice him intently watching me, before grabbing the can and taking his own drink, licking his lips afterwards.

“You’re Y/N, right?” He questions.

I nod, biting my inner cheek, “And you are?”

“Chris.” He smirks, eyeing me and up and down. “Well, Y/N, we basically just kissed.”

I can’t help the loud laughter that falls from my lips, nothing less than amused at his statement. I can see the smirk on his face turn into a full blown smile as I try to catch my breath, recovering from the fit of giggles he put me in.

“That was corny.” I say, smiling at him with a shake of my head.

He tosses his hands up in defense, shrugging, “I mean, did we not?”

I don’t say anything, and bring my mixed drink up to my lips, downing all of it in one go. His eyes widen as he watches me. I don’t like alcohol, but I can manage. It doesn’t take long for it to take effect, on top of the shots I had earlier, I can already feel the warmth coating my insides. With a surge of boldness, I lean forward and place a small peck to the corner of his lips, swiftly pulling away and making my exit.

Just before I slip away, I turn back and flash him a smile, “See you around, Christopher.”

As the party goes on, I can tell the alcohol I’ve consumed has fully kicked in. The loud music is no longer bothersome, I don’t feel suffocated in the sea of people, and I feel good. It’s been around an hour since I’ve been here, and I’ve only ran back into Sage once. She’s off with her other friends, mingling around, and I’ve just been vibing.

I’ve seen Chris around, more times than I’ve seen anyone else. Unless I’m just fixated on him. It’s like every time I turn my head, my eyes are meeting his, and I never want to look away. Though, to save myself from embarrassment and humiliation, I force my gaze elsewhere.

After downing another shot, I make my way to the makeshift dance floor, and let loose. Under the Influence starts playing, and I can’t help but move my body to the beat, letting the rhythm flow through me. My hands make their way into my hair, my hips swaying in sync with the beat booming in my ears. Suddenly, I feel a warm presence directly behind me, causing me to spin around.

Hot and delicious.

Christopher.

“Hey, mama.” He slurs, a goofy grin showcasing across his lips.

He’s definitely invading my personal space, but I don’t even care. Especially when his enchanting scent is filling my nostrils, winding me in closer.

“Hello, Christopher.” I reply, my speech slightly incoherent.

“I knew you knew who I was.” He stammered, his body damn near pressed against mine.

“Mhm.” I hum in response, turning around and backing into him.

“You look good like this.” I hear his voice in my ear.

I grab his hands that were just barely grazing my waist, bringing them to fully grab my hips as I move into him. His large hands guiding me back and forth.

“You’re so pretty, it’s distracting.” He mumbles, his breath fanning my neck.

I can feel the goosebumps spreading, the hair on the back of my neck standing up.

“You’re drunk.” I softly say.

He shakes his head, “I’m not drunk. I’m just intoxicated by you.”

Again, I’m bursting into a fit of giggles from something he’s said. I can’t tell if it’s because I’m drunk or if he just makes me nervous.

“You’ve been stuck in my head since I first saw you earlier.” He admits, stumbling over his words a bit.

I turn back around, looping my arms around his neck as we continue rocking to the music. His hands go up to my waist, pulling me into his chest.

“What are you thinking about?” I ask him.

He licks his lips and shakes his head, a slight chuckle escaping, “You don’t wanna know.”

Instantly, my eyebrow raises, “Try me.”

“I see you flipping your hair around and all I want is to wrap my hands in it while you’re taking my cock.” He states, his voice low and husky.

I immediately feel heat rush to my core, the sound of his voice and the words he’s saying, turning me on. I bring my bottom lip into my mouth, biting down on it to prevent the large smile that’s close to taking over my face.

“What if I was thinking the same thing?” I ask, the grin breaking through.

“Will you freak out if I kiss you?”

Looking up into his eyes, I subconsciously scoot closer to him as I shake my head. His eyes flicker from my eyes to my lips, then he slowly leans in. The second his mouth meets mine, my eyes flutter shut and I’m savoring the feeling of his soft lips on my own. One of his hands reaches around me and cups my ass while his other one is wrapped around my throat, pulling me impossibly closer. As our lips mold together, I find my hands in his hair, my arms holding him into me. The kiss is desperate yet soft, passionate yet hot. He pulls away, his face only centimeters in front of mine.

“Follow me.” He says, his breath slightly heavy as he intertwines our hands.

I do as he says, following closely behind him. We walk through the kitchen, dodging everyone in our way. We round the corner to a staircase leading downwards. He pulls me in front of him, ushering me to go down.

“After you.” He says, holding his arm out for me.

I shoot him a look, before grabbing his hand and walking down the stairs, him following in suit. We get to a door that he opens for me, nodding to enter. It’s a large bedroom, quite tidy in itself, and I can smell his scent wafting through the air. Only now did I realize this is his house. As he shuts the door, I walk around, taking everything in. My hands trail across the edge of his bed, feeling his comforter beneath my fingertips.

“Do you like my room?” He asks.

I turn around to face him and he has a soft, innocent look upon his features. However, I can already see right through him. I know what’s about to take place.

“I do.” I nod, “It’s very neat, and it smells good.”

“Thanks.” He grins, strolling over to me.

“Why didn’t you tell me this was your party?” I ask him, sitting on the end of his bed.

He shrugs, “Why did you pretend you didn’t know who I was?”

I toss my head back, soft giggles pouring out of my mouth. I look at him with a cheeky smile and low eyes, shrugging my shoulders. He just grins at me, before kicking his shoes off and nodding towards mine. “You can make yourself comfortable if you want.”

Within seconds, I’m unstrapping the uncomfortable heels and setting them aside. He lays back on his bed, his legs dangling off the side. He grabs my hand and gives it a soft tug, so I copy his actions, and lie back. We’re both facing one another, drunk and happy.

“How come I’ve never seen you at any parties?” He questions, his fingers playing with mine.

“I’m not really a party girl. Definitely not an influencer party girl.” I admit, warmth building in my stomach at his soft gesture.

“Well I’m glad you came to this one.” He says, staring into my eyes.

“Why’s that?” I smirk.

“Because who knows if I would’ve met you had you not.”

I can’t help the blush that pools to my cheeks at his response. He’s flattering and he knows it. I don’t say anything, I just take in his features for the millionth time tonight. His hair slightly out of place from my roaming hands, his face flushed from the heat upstairs, his eyes lidded from the alcohol in his system, his pretty pink lips looking oh so kissable. He looks so good. Without a word, he pulls me closer to him, my body flush against his.

“Is this okay?” He asks me, trying to read into my facial expression.

“It’s perfect.” I nod, enjoying the warmth he’s providing.

“You’re so pretty.” He whispers, his breath fanning my face due to our short proximity.

A smile sneaks onto my lips as I look down, attempting to hide the red color that’s now adorning my skin. His large hand grabs my chin and lifts my head so that he can see my face. Our eyes meeting in an intense gaze, holding it for what seems like forever. He only breaks the eye contact when he puts his lips on mine again. It’s only a soft, chaste kiss.

“So pretty.” He says again, his voice low as he continues to press gentle kisses onto my lips.

The delicate kisses turn into feverish ones, our tongues now gliding in and out of one another’s mouths, lapping each other perfectly. Our lips move together so well, like we cannot breathe without each other. My hands return to his hair, softly tugging it, eliciting low groans from him. One of his hands cups my cheek, the other one resting on my lower back, pulling me even more into him. He flips me over onto my back and hovers above me, staring into my eyes once more as a small smile takes over his face.

“God, I can’t get enough of you.” He groans, smashing his lips into mine again.

One of his hands rests on the bed by my head, the other one rubbing my outer thigh. Just his soft touches are enough to make my skin hot beneath his fingertips. My hands connect with the hem of his shirt, lifting it slightly and running my hands up his torso. He breaks from the kiss and removes his shirt, tossing it on the floor, then reconnecting our lips. He’s positioned between my legs, his groin inches above mine. My hands continue roaming along his torso, feeling his hot skin. I bring my legs up, hooking around his waist, pulling him down into me. His clothed erection presses into my heat, causing a low moan to leave my lips.

“Are we really doing this?” He pulls back and asks, his fingers playing with the hem of my dress.

“Yes, please.” I answer, my voice soft and breathy.

He grinds down into me, his hard on hitting exactly where I need him, causing another moan to leave my mouth.

“Fuck, I can’t wait to feel you.” He groans into my ear, leaving a wet kiss on it.

I shudder in pleasure as he continues down my neck, sucking and biting, marking me up. I reach down for his dick, palming it over his jeans. He lets out a low moan, bucking into my hand, before harshly grabbing both of my hands and pinning them above my head.

“You first.” He mutters, holding my wrists with one hand while his other one travels down my body.

His hand swiftly makes its way between my legs, my dress riding up as he kneads my thighs. Then, he’s rubbing my core through my underwear. Hums of pleasure come from me, and I can feel them growing wetter and wetter.

“Can I take your panties off?” He asks, his voice raspy as he looks into my eyes.

“Y-yes.” I answer, moaning louder as he presses harder into my heat.

“So good using your words, mama.” He groans, licking my neck.

He then pokes his fingers in the waistband of my panties and slowly pulls them down my legs, discarding them to the side. He spreads my legs again, my dress and skirt now sitting completely on my hips. He throws his head back at the sight of my pussy glistening with my arousal. Without another word, his face is hovering above my center, his warm breath hitting it. I can feel myself clench around nothing, desperate for any type of stimulation.

“Look at you. I haven’t even done anything and your pretty pussy’s begging for me.” He smirks, his fingers now prodding at my folds.

Now coated with my juices, he runs a finger over my clit, rubbing in soft circles. I’m physically writhing beneath him, so badly needing more. He then thrusts a finger into me, causing my body to jerk and my mouth emitting a loud gasp. He continues pumping it in and out of me, then adds another and doing the same with it. My hands squeeze the bed sheet beneath me, attempting to release the tension building. His fingers are moving so fast in and out of me, curling in the right places. My mouth falls open, my brows furrowing as pleasure overcomes me.

“You look so pretty coming undone like this.” He says, peppering kisses all over my thighs.

“Feels s-so good, daddy.” I moan out, clenching around his fingers, unaware of the name that slipped from my mouth.

His eyes are completely black as he stares up at me, watching me fall apart. His dick is rock hard, throbbing and impatiently waiting to be inside of me. Without a second thought, his lips are wrapped around my clit, sucking on it as his fingers fuck into me. That alone is enough to push me over the edge, my legs shaking as I let go, giving into the building pressure. I feel my cum ooze out of me, quickly being slurped up by Chris, tasting every drop of me as his fingers help me through my orgasm.

“Mmm, you taste so good, ma.” He says, licking my lips.

He pulls his fingers out of me, coming back up to hover over me, shoving them in my mouth. I moan around his fingers, sucking my own juices from them. He harshly grips my jaw, slamming his mouth onto mine, the taste of me lingering on our tongues.

Breathless, he pulls away and stands up, pulling me to the end of the bed by my ankles. His hand travels up my leg from my foot, tenderly squeezing along the way.

“Can you stand up?” He asks, softly rubbing my hip.

I nod and scoot to the edge, standing up on shaking legs and looking up at him. He cups my face, brushing my cheek with his thumb. He plants a sweet kiss on my lips.

“Take your clothes off.” He says, his tone firm.

I happily oblige, stripping from my clothes as he does the same. I watch as his dick springs from its restrictions, hard and throbbing. Just from the look of it, I know I’m in for a treat. He strokes himself as he looks over my body, licking his lips. He steps in front of me, his member poking into stomach. His hands run up and down my body, pressing kisses into my neck.

“On the bed, on your knees.” He demands.

I do as he says, and he follows behind me, holding me up with his hand on my throat. His lips meet my neck, sucking and biting all over it, causing soft whimpers to leave my mouth. He pushes me forward, laying me flat on my stomach. He leans over me, licking and nipping my back, leaving a warm trail of saliva. His hands part my thighs, squeezing himself in between them. I can feel him run his tip between my folds a few times, causing me to push back in anticipation. He pushes me back down, slowly sliding himself inside me.

“Ugh, fuck.” He moans, bottoming out.

“You’re so big, daddy. Feels so good.” I moan, feeling him slowly thrust in and out, filling me so nice.

His strokes start slow and hard, before the speed picks up. His hands are on my back, holding himself up as he fucks into me at a delicious rate. I can’t help the moans that continuously fall from my mouth, feeling nothing but never ending pleasure.

“You feel so fucking good wrapped around my cock, mama.” He groans out, fucking into me deeper and deeper.

It doesn’t take long for me to feel the buildup in my stomach once again. His hand wraps around my hair, tugging back as he leans over me once more. His mouth comes to my neck again, leaving wet kisses. I can hear his heavy breathing and low moans in my ear, and they’re driving me insane.

“Feels like you were made just for me.” He whispers. “I knew you would feel good, but this is better than I imagined.”

“All yours.” I babble, ridden with pleasure.

“You’re so tight, I can’t take it.” He moans, his voice holding a rasp to it.

I clench around him, feeling seconds from giving into my orgasm. A string of moans and curses fall from my lips, pure bliss coursing through me.

“You’re about to cum, I can tell.” He says, “Let it go, baby. Cum for me.”

And just like that, I’m releasing all over his cock with the loudest moans. His thrusts start to grow erratic, indicating he’s close to finishing as well.

“Such a good girl. Taking my cock so well, mama.” He moans out, thrusting harder.

Within a few more strokes, his dick twitches and his hot load is spurting into me, lewd groans emitting from his mouth. He pumps a few more times, riding out his orgasm, before slowly pulling out and watching his cum drip out of me. He collapses next to me, breathing heavily, looking me in my eyes with a goofy grin. His face is flushed red and his hair is sweaty, sticking to his forehead.

“That was amazing.” He breathes.

Unable to form words, I nod in agreement. His hand interlocks with mine, gently squeezing as his other hand brushes my hair out of my face.

“God, you’re so pretty, Y/N.”

I bashfully smile, “Thank you.”

“Will you stay with me tonight?” He asks, his eyes shining with hope. “We can shower and you can wear some of my clothes.”

I ponder for a second before shrugging with a nod, “That sounds perfect. I’ll just have to let Sage know.”

He smiles, brightly, pecking my shoulder over and over as he pulls me into him.

“You’re never getting rid of me now.”

—

a/n : this took me entirely too long to finish, so sorry ab that!! also not proofread, as per usual. hope you enjoyed this!! continue sending in reqs and i promise i’ll get to them eventually <3

#lustfulslxt #joss speaks #sturniolo triplets #sturniolos #the sturniolos #imagine #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo smut #christopher sturniolo x you #christopher sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #request #one shot #smut #drinking #party #sturniolo fic #matt sturniolo #christopher sturniolo smut

[imakatperson22]

Ok. So. I’ve been thinking…

Everyone involved from Tim to Oliver to Ryan has stated that they want to do the characters justice and tell a story “true” to the characters. IMHO there really isn’t a better story for Buck and Eddie in terms of character growth than them getting together.

Eddie has been constantly searching for a new maternal figure for Christopher and possibly even someone to just play “wife” with him so he can fulfill this heteronormative expectation of a having a traditional family unit that stems from his religious upbringing and what was modeled by his own parents. His identity and self image is that he’s a “nester, he nests”. He needs somebody to love. The rub is that none of his attempts to make that happen have made him happy. Buck is the solution to this. Buck is already a part of the family. What Eddie so desperately searches for in all of his failed relationships is what he already has with Buck and that does make him happy. He just doesn’t realize it yet.

Buck on the other hand is the opposite. Through his upbringing and trauma with his family life, Buck has felt neglected and unloved for a long time. In the earlier seasons, this manifests as hyper sexuality and a need to create intimacy with whoever he can project it on to. It’s quick and dirty and it does the trick for a little but it’s not satisfying and fulfilling the way he wants it to be. Buck needs to be loved. And his solution is Eddie. Buck has that lasting affection and intimacy with Eddie, and I’m not speaking sexually. What’s more intimate than having a key to someone’s house and being their child’s coparent/godparent? Buck also has the belief that he’s expendable and Eddie is the one to help him out of this mindset by making Buck Chris’s guardian in the event of death, which helps give meaning and weight to Buck’s self esteem because now Buck has a reason for self preservation: Chris. Also, Eddie is incredibly patient and kind when it comes to Buck. After the tsunami, Eddie sets Buck straight when he’s beating himself up about losing Christopher. Instead of being angry he lost Chris or just neutral and saying “it was out of your control”, Eddie actively reassures Buck in a positive way. Buck gets what he needs from Eddie. He just doesn’t realize it yet.

I saw something floating around that was really interesting and that I agree with: Eddie knows he loves Buck but doesn’t know he’s queer, and Buck knows he’s queer but doesn’t know he loves Eddie.

Whether or not they intentionally wrote them this way, whether they’re going for just box checking representation or shock value or fan satisfaction, what have you, the reality is that the product they currently have is currently set up in a way for them to do one of the most beautiful, unique, compelling queer love stories we have ever seen on network television. And I really hope they lean in to that.

Thank you for coming to my TED Talk…

#911 #911 season 7 #911 on abc #911 speculation #911 fanfic #911 show #911 abc #911 fox #911 spoilers #911 s7 #911 theories #fanfic #buddie #evan buck buckely #bi buck #buck x eddie #evan buckley #bucktommy #911 7x05 #911 7x04 #911 season 8 #eddie diaz #christopher diaz has two dads #911 7x06 #christopher diaz #tim minear #i’ve been thinking about this all day #i’ve connected the dots #i’ve said it before and i’ll say it again #bisexual

[cinnaminsvga]

Harana Preview | Jungkook

harana (n.): the act of wooing someone by serenading them

→ summary:

Unwilling to settle down with you after five years of dating, Jeon Jungkook decides to break up to chase after his dreams. In the aftermath, you leave your hometown, desperate to forget your past and relearn what it means to be on your own. Two years later while on your way to work, you pass by a familiar voice singing songs about a girl he had left behind.

{or alternatively: Jungkook still sings the love songs that he wrote for you. He still means them, too.}

→ genre: busker!au, exes to lovers, fluff, angst → warnings: jimin is insane and kinda crude (he has some issues going on), jungkook is a pathetic wet bunny but he's trying his best, so much yearning, ambiguous ending??? but my god there is hope!! the humanity of it all!! → words: anticipated 10-15K → a/n: what da hell who is she... HEY SO its been a while since ive written anything longer than 2k words and i really wanted to get back into writing, if only for practice... plus this is part of my heart full of hugot series that i teased literally eons ago and i want to finish it before the year ends... pray for my sanity ( ; ω ; )

part of the “heart full of hugot” series

As you struggle to pull yourself together, a familiarly loud voice rings outside the edge of your consciousness. “Hey, Y/N! Fancy seeing you here…” Jimin greets you, his usual jovial demeanor halting midway when he sees your panicked expression. He clears his throat, perplexed. “Umm… Are you alright there, girl? You’re looking a little pale.”

You do not even have the mental capacity to wonder why Park Jimin was miraculously early to his shift, nor why he seems genuinely worried for you. Rather, all you can do is wave him off and use what little time you have before the restaurant opens to steel yourself for hours of melodious torture. 

“I’m fine, Park. You should get to work,” you grit out, wiping your sweaty palms on your uniform. Normally, Jimin would have teased you about the obvious wrinkles on your skirt. 

“You’re not the boss of me,” Jimin huffs, always the contrarian. He thinks better of it, however, and softens his tone. “Are you feeling sick or something? You look like you just saw a ghost.”

You freeze, perhaps giving yourself away a little. “I’m fine,” you repeat. 

“You know, if you refuse to elaborate, I’m going to have to retract your shower privileges,” Jimin taunts with a smirk. 

You feel a migraine growing by your temple, making you wince. God, why must men be the source of all your problems?

“I’m just… a little annoyed by the busker outside the restaurant,” you eventually admit, trying to be vague. Unfortunately for you, Jimin hates beating around the bush and would never take your crap if he knows something is up.

Unable to withstand the weight of his unimpressed stare, you continue, “He was someone I used to know, that’s all.” You aren’t going to be any more specific than that, though you imagine Jimin gets the picture. You zip your lips, hoping to whoever is causing you pain that Jimin would somehow let the matter drop and leave you to your misery.

You brace yourself for his onslaught of questioning to come, and… it doesn’t happen. Instead, when you glance at Jimin, he is mysteriously stone faced. You wait for him to speak for what feels like a few minutes, but he doesn’t show any signs of wanting to tease or ridicule you. He simply watches you with a pensive expression. You can barely stop yourself from staring back at him, slack-jawed at his silence. 

Of course, you aren’t just going to question your luck, or what little you have at least. So, you stay silent back and purse your lips uncomfortably.

Finally, Jimin seems to snap out of his strange reverie. He fixes you with a bizarrely sympathetic grin, patting you affectionately on the back. “I see… Well, if you ever need a drink tonight, head over to the bar for a little sip. I got you covered,” is all he says in response before sashaying away. 

That was so fucking weird. You want to chase after him, perhaps beat the truth out of him. Jimin is nothing but a scheming dick, and you aren’t about to let him roam free with such sensitive information about yourself. Just as you’re about to stomp his ass (perhaps to relieve some of the building tension from your weary soul), your manager pops his head from his office door. 

“Y/N! Make sure you’re logged into the booking system. There’s going to be a party of 20 coming in about an hour,” he reminds you, shooting you an apologetic look. You nod back with a sigh, swiping the booking tablet from the hostess desk and scrolling through the logs. Sure enough, it is going to be a busy night despite being a Monday evening. Perhaps a little busier than usual, in fact.

Whatever. You will use whatever distraction you can get, and perhaps the approaching noise from the restaurant patrons will be enough to drown out the sound of his voice. 

You aren’t religious by any means, but you pray to whatever higher power exists that Jeon Jungkook doesn’t somehow decide to enter the restaurant. Stay outside, you plead. Outside the restaurant and your life, if possible.

Throughout the evening, you do your best to push aside the memories that threaten to resurface. You greet customers with a smile, lead them to their tables, and ensure their dining experience is pleasant despite the anxiety poisoning your insides. It's a routine you've perfected over time, a shield against the chaos of your emotions.

As the night wears on, you can feel Jimin's eyes on you from across the restaurant. You sneak glances back at him, and you blanch at his pitying gaze. If the restaurant had been slightly less crowded, you would have flipped him off. 

He’s probably enjoying my suffering, you think darkly. Unwilling to give him the satisfaction, you straighten up and do your best to appear more unaffected. Just as you do so, you can hear Jungkook perfectly hitting a soulful high note. 

“I’m so sorry for thinking I was strong,” you whisper to the universe. “Forgive me for my insolence.” You clench your fist in anguish, ignoring the confused looks from the customers in front of you. 

By the time your shift comes to a close, you are completely and utterly drained. You feel like a snail that has been continuously salted over the past eight hours, and you cannot help but cheer in relief when the clock finally strikes two in the morning. You have to wait for the last few diners to make their leave, but otherwise you are ready to let your bed swallow you whole. 

You stand by your hostess desk, leaning your head against it with a defeated sigh. Jungkook’s voice had died down only a few minutes ago, and you hope that by this point he has mercifully left the premises. You want to take a peek to make sure, but just as you’re about to make your way to the door, you feel a hand on your shoulder stop you in your tracks.

“‘Sup, bitch.” Jimin still has that weird, pitying gaze pointed at you, though his words don’t match it. “Are you okay to go home alone tonight? I can bring your dumb ass home if you want.”

You shove his hand away, ready to bite his head off when you think better of it. If Jimin drives you home, then that lowers the chances of seeing Jungkook down to pretty much zero. 

“You know what? Thanks,” you grouse. Jimin smiles at you winningly, and the image of it brings a shiver down your spine. You hit him, creeped out. “Hey. Stop that, will you? You’re being really weird?”

Jimin scoffs, crossing his arms. “Me? Weird? At least I don’t look like a damn firework ready to explode just because my cringelord ex-boyfriend is singing sappy love songs outside—”

“Shut the fuck up,” you seethe, stomping on his foot. He yelps in pain and slaps your shoulder in retaliation. 

“Ouch! Watch your ogre feet! My shoes are worth twice your monthly rent I’ll have you know,” he bristles. He breathes deeply, likely finding his inner calm (which you doubt exists). “But because I’m so nice, I’ll ignore your earlier transgression and blame it on your underdeveloped amygdala.”

You don’t know what’s more surprising: the fact that Jimin knew what an amygdala was or that he was forgiving you in the first place. “Whatever. Let’s finish closing up and then head out. I’m exhausted.”

#my wips #bts scenarios #bts fanfiction #bts imagines #bts x reader #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook imagines #jungkook x reader #i gotta stop making jimin a gremlin in these LMAOOO #at the very least he isnt insane in his installment of this series #idk who i should write for next... maybe hoseok? its been a while since ive written for him (or written anything at all lol) #i need to stop making hoseok evil... new year new me #OK ANYWAY i'll post the entire thing soon-ish... yippeeeee

[moni-logues]

Something Blue

Pairing: Taehyung x f.reader

Genre: childhood friends-to-lovers, smut

Summary: You thought you had lost your best friend when you had just asked him if he was sure of what he was doing. Then he comes back and this time, he is sure.

Word count: ... 3...k.. 👀👀 (+369....)

Content: alcohol, unprotected sex in the quickest sex scene that's ever been written lmao

A/N: So.... I wrote this as part of the Into the Blue challenge that @jeonqkooks @daechwitatamic and @wintaerbaer are running but um... honestly.. idk if I've sufficiently or satisfactorily followed ANY of the rules lmao so uh.. yeah, you guys can decide if you want to include this in the challenge or not but I enjoyed writing it nonetheless! This is unbeta'd and pretty unedited because we truly love a chaotic, spontaenous fic drop

You shouldn’t have said it. You knew you shouldn’t have said it. You had known even before the words left your mouth that you shouldn’t have been saying them. The sweat slicking your palms, the churning in your stomach, your heart beating hard and fast against your ribs; your body had known, too.  

But you also couldn’t have not said it.  

“Are you really, actually, one hundred percent sure you want to marry her?” 

He had been livid, angrier than you had ever seen him before. He was so angry, he didn’t shout, didn’t even speak. He looked at you with fury, hatred, in his eyes, turned on his heel, and left with his hands clenched into fists at his side.  

He hadn’t spoken to you since. Tomorrow was the wedding day. You weren’t going to be there. It felt wrong that you weren’t going to be there, to stand at his side on his wedding day, when you had been at his side for all the others, all the less important days, every day since he accidentally pushed you in the playground at 5 years old. But you couldn’t do it. You didn’t think he would want to see you there anyway, not after the way he had looked at you that night. 

You’d tried reaching out, conciliatory without actually apologising—because you still thought you were right to ask the question. Sometimes you have to ask, even if it makes you the bad guy; sometimes people need to be asked, to be given the freedom to answer. Not Taehyung, it seemed, but you had had to try. You couldn’t have lived with yourself if you hadn’t asked, if you hadn’t checked and it all turned out wrong.  

You didn’t want it to turn out wrong. You wanted Taehyung to be happy, blissfully, eternally happy, with her or whoever... You just hadn’t been convinced that he was. Truth be told, in your more assertive moments, you thought that his reaction was quite befitting of someone who, perhaps, wasn’t sure and was hiding from it, his anger a smokescreen for his uncertainty. Not that you were saying that to him. You were just reaching out, trying to get a response from him. Anything would do. 

But nothing came. 

* 

Until the night before the wedding when there was impatient, insistent knocking on the door and a continued buzzing from your doorbell. You hesitated to answer because you lived alone and you didn’t know who you would find out there, but then your phone started ringing. 

Taehyung. 

You picked it up immediately. 

“Tae?” 

“Open the fucking door.” 

You were on your feet before he had finished the sentence and wrenching it open as he hung up the phone.  

“Tae.” 

His face was grim and he said nothing to you, just walked past you and straight into your kitchen. He was getting vodka out of the cupboard before you caught up with him. 

“What’s up?” 

He didn’t answer, but he did hand you a shot glass, full to the brim and dripping over his hand. You took it and watched as he knocked back his own shot and then another. You put yours on the counter.  

“Seriously-” 

“Be quiet.” 

His voice was gruff and harsh and you immediately zipped your lips shut. You were worried, more than anything, what all this meant. Showing up out of nowhere like this, looking like he did, drinking like he was, something had to have happened. Something big. He had been ignoring all your phone calls and messages; he had blocked you on as many social platforms as he could. What could have brought him back?��

He knocked back a couple more shots before he took the glass and bottle over to your sofa. 

“Are you coming?” he called when you didn’t immediately follow. 

You finally moved and sat in the armchair to his right.  

You decided not to speak, to let him come around to it first. For one thing, you had no idea what to say. He continued drinking, sloppily filling the glass each time, pouring vodka on your coffee table and wiping his hands on your sofa cushion. 

It was when he reached his seventh or eighth shot that you leaned across and took the bottle from him. He shot you a scowl and you shrugged back. 

“If you have much more, you’re going to be so drunk, you won’t be able to do whatever it is you came for.” 

He slumped backwards then, hands in his lap, bottom lip jutting in his characteristic pout. You listened to the clock tick with growing impatience. He was the one who had come here; he had a reason; why wouldn’t he just spit it out?  

With a sigh, you stood to go to the bathroom, and that’s when he spoke. 

“You know I loved you for like, fucking ever?” 

“What?” 

“I was in love with you.” 

You took an involuntary step backwards, your foot hitting against the chair, knocking you off-balance. You fell heavily back into it. 

“What do you mean?”  

The look he shot you was icy. He leant forwards, forearms on his knees, and sneered at you. 

“I was fucking in love with you,” he repeated. “For years. Forever. Always. And you never fucking saw it. Never fucking let me. Fine. Whatever.” He threw his hands up in the air and sat back again. “As if I fucking cared. I got over it. Then you have the fucking audacity to ask me if I want to marry Gabi? To ask me if I’m fucking sure? As if you ever gave a single shit about who I dated? What does it matter to you? It’s not like you ever wanted to marry me; why would ask me that? Why the fuck would you ask me that?” 

You felt winded. Dizzy. Taehyung. In love with you. For years. You rubbed your eyes and massaged your temples but you couldn’t wrap your head around it. You were friends. Best friends. Forever friends. You’d had no idea he ever felt any differently. None whatsoever.  

As for you not giving a ‘single shit’ about who he dated? Could not be more wrong. You cared. A lot. But you knew that Taehyung being so close to you was obstacle enough to most women—they were insecure, jealous of your closeness, of the length and age of your friendship, the way it was embedded in both of you. The way trees grew around fences and signposts attached to them, that was how you and Taehyung had grown around each other. You didn’t want that to get in the way of his relationships, you didn’t want it to make things complicated so you always hung back a little. You didn’t want to get in their business. You didn’t want to cause any problems.  

Besides which, it hurt when you saw him with someone else. As kids, he was just Taehyung, your best friend; you didn’t notice him as a boy until much later. Until you were in your teens and looking around at all the other boys and wondering why on earth you would ever want to go out with any of them, wondering how Taehyung could be the same species as them, when he was clearly so much better than they were.  

He got a girlfriend first. It had knocked you for six. You argued about it, though you couldn’t, now, remember quite why or what had prompted it. Eventually, after a couple of weeks, he ended things because he didn’t want it to ruin his friendship with you. You had been overjoyed. You had been so happy that you almost told him, right then and there, that you wanted to be his girlfriend. Of course you did. You knew no one better, trusted no one more, and he was becoming so handsome, even though he was a little gangly and his ears stuck out and the other girls sometimes made fun of him for having one monolid and one double. There was no one who compared.  

And that was how it was. You didn’t get a boyfriend until you were 18 and at university. Taehyung had attended elsewhere and it was only then, when you weren’t next to each other every single day, that you were able to get your mind off him. You thought about telling him how you felt just before you left and then you realised what a terrible idea that was and you had cried on the train to Busan, realising that you had missed your chance. You had been waiting to turn into a swan, to get through your ugly duckling phase, to have your braces off; you were waiting, too, for a time when he was single because he always had someone. You couldn’t blame him, couldn’t blame them either, because they were doing what you wanted to, they had the very thing you wanted. 

Then you got used to it. The not having of him. The him having someone else. You had resigned your feelings to the back of your closet and shut them away.  

But here he was telling you that he had been in love with you, too?  

“I didn’t know,” you said, your voice hoarse, mouth dry. “I didn’t know.” 

Taehyung looked a little surprised by that. He had clearly been chewing over the next bit of his speech but you had made him falter.  

“You didn’t know,” he repeated dumbly. 

You shook your head and lifted the vodka bottle to your lips. It burnt as it went down but you needed a shock to the system. 

“I swear I didn’t know. If I had known that, I-” 

“You what?” 

You took another swig. You had already lost him. Before he had shown up here, you had thought you had already lost him, and he was clearly here to scorch the earth, to raze everything to the ground, leave no stone unturned. So you took a third gulp and a deep breath. 

“If I had known, I would have told you I felt the same. If I had known that, at any point in our friendship, you wanted more from me than that—than just friendship—Tae, I’d have fucking jumped at the chance. I always wanted you. You were, are, always have been, probably always will be the best person I know. Of course I’ve been in love with you. This whole time. Of course I have. Ask anyone and they’ll tell you. But I never thought you felt the same; I never thought you wanted that so I never said anything. Besides, you’re the one getting married tomorrow.” 

He scoffed, eyebrows raised at you. 

“You think I’m going to get fucking married?” 

Your stomach lurched as if it were going to bring back up all that vodka you just downed. 

“You aren’t?” 

“Course I’m fucking not. It’s been off for weeks.” 

“Oh.” 

“You think you, you of all people, could just ask me if I was ‘really sure’ I wanted to marry her and I’d still do it?” 

That was a bewildering question. 

“I- I don’t know?” 

“Of course not!” He was shouting, getting to his feet and running his hands through his hair. He placed them flat against the cool glass of the window, leaning his weight on them, his back to you.  

You stayed in your chair, holding tight to the vodka bottle, staring at him. 

“No, I wasn’t really a hundred percent sure I wanted to marry her,” he said after a long time had passed in silence. “Because Jimin had fucking asked me about you. Hadn’t for ages, had left it alone like I asked him to. But then he asked me about you, just for the last time, he said, because he really wanted me to be sure. Because he didn’t think I should go through with it if I was still thinking about you, still holding a candle for you. He asked me what I would do if you showed up, night before the wedding, morning of maybe, and said you didn’t want me to marry her. What if you finally said that shit? What would I do then? 

“I told him to fuck off. Less nicely than that. But I couldn’t stop fucking thinking about it, could I? About you. All this fucking time and I’ve never been able to fucking forget about it! About you.” 

He turned suddenly, looking straight at you, his eyes alight. 

“And then you,” he said, moving closer to you, his voice deep, low, rumbling in his chest. “Then you had to go and ask me that, too.” 

He was so close to you that you had to tilt your head to look at his face. His eyes were dark and aflame, his jaw tense, chest heaving as he breathed. Words caught in your throat. 

“Sorry.” 

It was barely a whisper.  

“Are you?” 

He raised an eyebrow at you. 

“Are you really sorry? Did you really want me to marry her?” 

“No.” 

“No, you didn’t. But you didn’t have the fucking guts to tell-” 

“I thought you loved her!” you shouted at him, pushing him away from you. “I thought you loved her and maybe you were just having doubts! I didn’t know you fucking loved me, Tae. I already told you that! If I had known, I wouldn’t have asked you if you wanted to marry her, if you were sure. I’d have straight-up told you not to.”  

You could feel yourself warming up to this, getting on a roll. You stood from the chair, squared up to him, and continued. 

“You think, if I had thought there was a chance for us, I’d have just let you marry another fucking woman? You think, if I had thought at any point that you wanted me, I’d have ever turned you down? I’d have ever let anyone else get a look in? You seriously think I wanted you to marry someone else?” 

“Then why didn’t you fucking say so?!” 

“Why didn’t YOU?!” 

The air crackled with tension as you stared at each other, just a few feet apart, both breathing heavily, neither one looking away, neither moving. Then you saw the switch flick in his eyes and he took two steps towards you. 

“Well, I’m fucking doing it now,” he said and, without giving you a second to respond, he took you by the back of your neck and pulled your face to his. 

He kissed you, hard, pulled your body closer, held you tight against him. It took you a second to feel it, to kick your brain into gear and respond but you made sure that you were making yourself very fucking clear this time. 

You lifted onto your tiptoes, tangling your hands in his hair, sucking his bottom lip into your mouth. All the times you had thought about this, wondered what it would be like, flashed in your mind like a kaleidoscope of missed opportunities. All the kisses you could have shared until now, wasted. Lost. You moaned as he licked into your mouth and you felt the hair on the nape of his neck rise. There wasn’t a single part of you that wasn’t fully invested in this moment, that was holding back. You weren’t asking questions about this, or what it meant, or what would happen afterwards. You were just grabbing with both hands the thing you had wanted for so many years. 

Taehyung’s mouth travelled to your neck and his hands found their way under your T-shirt. You made his job easier for him and pulled back to take it off. He didn’t act surprised; he just shrugged off his leather jacket and tore his own T-shirt over his head. You pushed your leggings to the floor and stepped out of them, watching him do the same with his own trousers.  

That was enough time apart.  

You collided again, a whirl of hands and lips and tongues. You were hurtling at breakneck speed towards something that would change your friendship forever. But it had already changed. Cat was out of the bag now. The only question was would you lean in or would you chicken out? 

You had done chickening out. Years of it, more than a decade of chickening out of telling him you felt, what you wanted. Not this time.  

He hummed, a low rumble in his chest, as you reached into his boxers and wrapped your fingers around him. He was hard and heavy in your hand and your core clenched at the thought of him inside you. You wanted to take your time with him now, show him everything you’d ever wanted to, tell him everything you’d never said, but the want in you was so strong and you felt so weak beneath it. You were dizzy with need for him, aching so that it hurt.  

“Tae,” you whispered, your breath coming in gasps already. “Tae, just please fuck me, ok? Just p-” 

He cut you off with a kiss and didn’t hesitate to acquiesce. His fingers were dragging at the waistband of your underwear and pulling at his own. You were kicking them off your feet and he was pushing you onto the sofa and kneeling over you, just for a moment, his eyes roving over your body for the very first time, drinking you in with his bottom lip caught tight between his teeth.  

You opened your mouth to prompt him, to hurry him, to ask him again to please just fuck you, but no sooner had you opened it, than he was pushing at your entrance, your words lost to a gasp and then a whine as he sheathed himself inside you. 

“Fuck,” you whispered, overwhelmed.  

“Yeah,” he grunted above you, looking at the place your bodies met.  

He moved slowly at first, to let you adjust to him, but it wasn’t enough, not even close.  

“More,” you panted. “Faster, please.” 

You were clawing at his back, wrapping your legs around him, pulling him down, closer to you, so you could kiss him as he fucked you, so you could you curl his hair around your fingers and tug and make him moan into your mouth. You put one hand down between your bodies, pressing and circling over your clit as he snapped his hips into you over and over and over.  

You panted, repeating his name like a chant or a prayer. Like a wish. Your voice broke, your words lengthening into whines, then disappearing altogether as he pushed you towards climax. You had never got there so quickly, so easily, but it was Taehyung. After all this time, it was finally him and you came with a choked whine and a whole-body shudder. As if he had only been waiting for you, as soon as your body flopped backwards into the mattress, he was coming, too, your name dying on his lips as he gasped through his final thrusts.  

He fell heavily on top of you, his alcohol-clean breath washing over your face. You lay, not speaking, the only sound the rush of your breathing and the tick of the clock. Neither of you made a move to sit up, to disturb the peace around you. Taehyung shuffled, tucking his face into your neck, sliding off you slightly and resting his arm over your waist. You absent-mindedly stroked his hair, thinking about everything that had just happened. 

“Loved,” you said, startling Taehyung from the doze he was falling into. 

“Hm?” 

“Loved... You said you loved me. Past tense.”  

He only grunted. 

“Taehyung.” 

“What?” 

“I’m asking if you love me. Present tense.” 

He shuffled again, pulling himself a little bit closer to you. He didn’t answer right away and you could feel your heart start to race again, anxiety this time, a railroad spike of it straight through your hear- 

“Of course I fucking love you,” he mumbled, his lips against your skin. “Don’t be stupid.” 

“Ok.” 

A minute passed. 

“Well?” he asked, sounding a little more awake now. 

“Well what?” 

He poked you in the ribs. 

“Do you?” 

“Yes, I love you. I’ve always loved you.”  

“Good."

A beat.

"Want to get married tomorrow? I never actually cancelled the registrar.” 

#taehyung x reader #taehyung smut #taehyung fic #bts x reader #bts fic #bts smut

[newtthetranswriter]

Christmas Conflict Clean Up

Word count: 949

Paring: Takashi Mitsuya x reader

Summary: Taking care of him after the Christmas conflict.

Warnings: Talk of blood, concussions and other injuries, stabbing

A/N: Hello everyone, I hope that if you celebrate Christmas you had a good one yesterday, and if you don’t, I hope you still had an amazing day. Anyway, I wrote this picturing it happening obviously right after the fight in the church. I also picture it happening when they are in the last year of high school, so still teen but more like 18ish. Anyway, enjoy and remember to Hydrate Or Diedrate.

   It was about three in the morning when the knocking on my window finally woke me up. I was totally confused by this, like, who in their right mind is knocking on people’s windows at 3am the day after Christmas. As I went to the window, my question was answered, seeing my boyfriend standing outside, with what was very clearly a black eye and many other injuries to his handsome face. Realizing it was Takashi standing out there, I rushed to slide the window open and help him climb through the window.

   “I’m sorry to wake you up so early. I just didn’t want to wake Luna and Mana with my face so beat up.” Takashi explained as he gave a weak smile sitting on my bed.

   Ignoring his explanation as to why he was here, I went to work, looking for my first aid kit that I kept in my room for nights like this. Digging through my dresser drawer, I let out a quiet exclamation of victory, pulling out the box of supplies. Turning on my bedside lamp, I decide the best course of action would be to first clean up all the blood. “Sorry, but this is gonna sting.” I said, taking an antiseptic wipe to a large cut on his cheek. He flinched away from the wipe and in response I grabbed the back of his head to hold him still, not realizing that was also a bad idea.

   This time he jerked forward, nearly headbutting me in the process. “Shit that hurt.” Takashi mumbled out, trying to keep his voice down.

   Realizing with that kind of reaction, there had to be a wound on the back of his head, I turned his face away from me. I let out a sigh of relief when I didn’t see any blood in his hair, but knowing there could still be something there, I carefully started moving his short hair out of my way. When I bumped a particular spot, he let out another quiet string of curses, signalling that I found the spit of concern. Looking closer at the spot, I could see a rather large bump that was already starting to turn purple. “Jesus, Takashi, what��d they hit you with a brick?” I asked, only slightly joking.

  “Close, a metal pipe.” Was his response as he tilted his head to look back at me. I held back a gasp, as I didn’t actually think whoever he got in a fight with this time would hit him with something. “Don’t worry, I’m fine. It’s just a bump and a bruise, nothing major.” He smirked, trying to make it sound not that bad.

  I resisted the urge to smack the back of his head. “Nothing major, really, Takashi. You could have a concussion, for god’s sake. Now sit still so I can clean up the rest of your face.” I snapped as I turned him back to facing me. “And don’t flinch, or I will make sure you leave here with a concussion.” I threatened, going back to wiping off his cuts.

  With that, he shut right up, knowing that if I had to I would really beat his ass for being an idiot. “What even were you idiots fighting about at Christmas?” I asked, hoping to get some answers on the citation, that lead to a bloody boyfriend knocking on my window at three o’clock.

  He paused, probably trying to figure out how to explain it in a way to make it sound justified. When he finally spoke, I could tell it was the unfiltered truth. “Takemitchy believed that Hakkai was going to kill his brother and was dead set on stopping him. He was right in the sense that Hakkai was there, but Yuzuha is the one who ultimately stabbed Taiju. Don’t worry, the wound wasn’t fatal, but it turned into an all out brawl in the church with Takemitchy, Chifuyu, Hakkai, and Me against Taiju and a couple of his Black dragon guys. Honestly, the only thing that saved our asses was Mikey and Draken showing up when they did.” He explained.

  I knew right away it was the truth, Hakkai was like the little brother Takashi never had, and I know he would do anything for him, even risk his life if he had too. I smiled as I wiped the last little bit of blood off his lower lip. “I’m glad everyone made it out okay then.” It’s all I could think to say. He returned the gentle smile. “Now please take a break from fighting until at least the new year, I don’t think your pretty face can take another beating so soon.” I said, earning a chuckle from him as I moved to the first aid kit back in its resting spot.

  When I turned around, Takashi had kicked off his shoes and thrown his Toman jacket over my desk chair, and made himself comfortable on my bed. Before I could say anything, he beat me to it. “You said it yourself, I could have a concussion from being hit with a metal pipe. I shouldn’t be driving in this condition. Now come lay down, we both know your parents are used to me coming over all beat up and spending the night.” He said, making valid points, patting the space next to him. I quickly lied down next to him, turning off the light. Before I could drift off to sleep, I heard one last thing from the lilac haired young man. “Thank you for always being here for me, even if it’s at such shitty hours” That was the last thing I heard before letting sleep take over.

#tokyo revengers x reader #x reader #takashi mitsuya x reader #mitsuya x reader #mitsuya takashi #tokyo revengers mitsuya #takashi mitsuya #Newt's Winter Fic Event