#the working title of this fic is 'he's literally just some guy'

[muniimyg]

1: the confession // series m.list

note: been daydreaming abt this jk... enj <3

taglist request: send a request with the title of this fic “aao” // DO NOT comment here or on the masterlist . it gets confusing and i prefer answering and tagging through asks !!!

🏷️ permanent taglist: @joonsjuice @taetaecatboy @pb-n-juju @miss-rainy-days @firesighgirl @whoa-jo @vantxx95 @pamzn @kakixaku @casspirit0705 @tae165 @defzcl @sopebubbles @leefics @ggukkieland @bebebutbetter @yoongimentita7 @boraength @era-genius @4ksj @vampcharxter @miss-jupiter @floweryjeons @taegijns @jeonqkooks-main @ellesalazar @jkslvsnella @thekookiecorner @parkinglot-nights @seagulljk

fic taglist: @peterstarkchrishiddleston

//

The library is your favourite place. 

At least, that is until your predictable love for it comes to a disadvantage. May your tranquil moments alone rest in peace as your friends corner and gaslight you to leaving your sanctuary. Sometimes, it’s for parties. Other times, it’s for something stupid like driving to the next town to watch a movie at their theatre because their theatre chairs recline better. 

You won’t have it this time. 

No way. You have so much work to do!

"Oh, come on! Please, ___?” Hobi begs. “Come tonight! It'll be fun!" Suddenly, he’s clinging to your arm, making it harder for you to ignore him. You try shaking him off, but he pouts at you and clings on even tighter. 

“Hobi,” you whine. “Go to the party if you wanna go. Jimin said he’d meet you there! And Nam Joon, and Taehyung, Jin, and even Yoongi!” 

“But I want you to come!” He cries. “I need someone to keep count of my drinks—”

“Use a marker and tally it on your arm.”

“But then what if I need to throw up—”

“Then throw up.”

“... Jungkook will be there!”

You blink at him. 

“So?”

Hobi lets go of your arm and raises a brow at you. “What do you mean so? Isn't he your boyfriend?”

His accusation has you tongue-tied. This is the first time you’ve ever heard such an absurd thing! Jungkook became a part of the friendgroup after you. He’s the newbie. Actually, he has a whole other set of friends aside from you guys. Why? Because he’s cool. That’s it. Everyone on campus knows him and truth be told; he deserves his hype. He’s good-looking, kind, and a little weird (in a good way). He’s funny and smart (but not in an obnoxious way)... He’s just… Kind of good at everything? It intimidates you and often leaves you daydreaming. 

Come to think of it, everything happens by coincidence. Yours and his lectures usually start and end around the same time. Not to mention that he also loves the library! He usually walks you home after your study sessions. But, yeah… Aside from these things—you and Jungkook aren’t actually that close.

“W-what? I’m not dating Jungkook! Doesn’t he have a girlfriend?” you ask, careful not to sound too noisy. 

Hobi shakes his head. “Girlfriend? Yeah… You.”

Your eyes widen.

In a panic, you hiss at Hobi. “Don’t start rumours! That’s embarrassing for him to be associated with me—”

“Oh shut up,” Hobi laughs. “Do not get all insecure and pick me when the campus crush has literally been drooling over the past few weeks. Everybody knows. Everybody talks about it! Besides, they talk about him being all lovestruck—not you! So, spill it. What did you do, huh? Did you manifest it or some shit—”

“With all the time I spend in class, work, and the library… You think I have time to manifest?” you chuckle at him, ultimately trying to dismiss his suspicion. 

Hobi rolls his eyes at you. 

“For someone who reads fanfics and book loads of romance stories… You’re dense as fuck.”

Tilting your head at him, you try to find the words to defend yourself and fail. 

He’s right. 

You are dense. 

But that never hurt anyone before… So why does it matter?

“Earth to ___?” Hobi waves his hands to your face. You blink, brushing your thoughts away. Offering him a tired smile, he looks at you weirdly. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you exhale. “Why?”

“You’re blushing like crazy,” he teases, poking your cheek. Your hands fly to your cheeks. He’s right. They feel warm and the sudden embarrassment just made you feel even more flustered. Then, he nudges you. 

“Get it together!” Hobi mutters, “Your boyfriend is coming!"

Turning your head, you see Jungkook making his way through the doors. He has his backpack on one shoulder and his eyes glued to his phone. Like muscle memory, he turns his heels and walks toward your direction. 

“Oh my god,” you hit Hobi’s arm. “Why did you plant these thoughts when he’s literally—”

“Plant thoughts? Babes, it’s reality. Helllooooo?” Hobi sings, tauntingly. 

You pout at him, unable to take this lighthearted. 

Then, before you know it, Jungkook approaches you. 

He pulls the seat next to you out and settles in. After offering a fist bump to Hobi, he quickly leans his body over and places his hand on your knee. He’s always done this but why was it suddenly so different now? Was it always like this and you never noticed until now? Until Hobi…

Wow… 

“Hey, you.” Jungkook greets you warmly.

“... H-hi.”

He gives you a weird look. You avoid his eyes in return. Clearing his throat, he asks, “Why aren’t you packed up yet? Aren't we going to the party?”

Jungkook eyes your spread of notes on the table. You clunch your iPad closer to you and shrug. “We? It’s you. Aren’t you going to the party?”

Jungkook returns your question with a grin. “No. Us. You, specifically. You, especially.”

“Yeah, ___!” Hobi chimes cheekily. “Aren’t you going to the party?”

Hesitantly, you shake your head. 

“N-no… I have too much work to do. Here! I’ll just—” you pause your sentence and reach for Hobi’s arm. Pushing his sleeve up, you take the sharpie from your pencil case and write on his arm. 

If piss drunk, please return to ___. 

(xxx) xxx-xxxx <3

Hobi reads it sideways and yanks his arm back. 

“I hate you,” he utters. With laser eyes, he glares at Jungkook. “Tell her you’re coming to the party. Drag her to come! She’s always here! Homework can wait for tomorrow!”

Jungkook exchanges looks with you. With a soft gaze, he shrugs and turns to Hobi. 

“She doesn’t wanna go.”

Hobi groans. 

“Fine. Let’s go. Let’s leave—”

“I’m staying,” Jungkook says calmly. "She's not going... Neither am I."

He picks his backpack up from the ground and begins to unzip it. Taking out his notes and laptop, he looks up and smiles at Hobi. “Can I see your arm?”

Huffing, Hobi shows Jungkook your note. As Hobi rambles on and on about how you and Jungkook are party poopers, Jungkook takes your Sharpie and crosses your number out. 

If piss drunk, please return to ___. Jungkook

(xxx) xxx-xxxx <3

(xxx) xxx-xxxx

For the second time tonight, Hobi reads his arm sideways and yanks it back. He squints at the unfamiliar number. 

“Why’d you cross her number out? Whose number is this?” Hobi asks. 

“Mine,” Jungkook states, smiling at the correction. “Call me if you need anything.”

“What? Why?”

Jungkook blinks. “I’m not really crazy about ___’s number being on your arm for other guys to have and call her with.”

Hobi’s mouth drops. He slowly turns to you and gulps. Blinking at you slowly, he gives you crazy eyes. “You can not be this dense, ___. Jungkook is literally ripping me into shreds in his head right now—”

You laugh.

“Go. Have fun! Call me if you need anything.”

Hobi turns to Jungkook. 

Jungkook smiles at him sweetly with his eyes closed. He shakes his head slowly and wiggles his finger at him. “Don’t call her.”

With that, Hobi grumbles a few exchanges before packing his stuff up. He waves goodbye and tells you that you’re lame one last time. You agree with him and wave him goodbye. As he leaves, Jungkook moves his chair closer to you. 

“So… Same schedule? Study until 9PM and then I walk you home? Or are you hungry tonight? Maybe we can wrap this up by 7:30PM and grab a bite to eat? I know a really good burger spot just up campus—why’d you do that?”

Your body stiffens.

“Do what?”

Jungkook eyes your chair distance. 

“You moved away.”

What the heck… How did he even notice? It’s not like you moved across the table! You just moved like… Half an inch. 

“No, I didn’t,” you deny. “But yeah… Sure! I’ve been craving a good burger with extra cheese—what are you doing?”

“I’m moving closer to you.”

“Why?”

“Because you lied to my face and moved away.”

“N-no!” 

Jungkook inches his face closer to yours. He boops your nose and scrunches his. “You sniff whenever you lie. Did you know that?”

“N-no…”

“Now you do.”

For the first time ever… You lose your breath. It’s like you forgot how to breathe. He’s so close to you. His eyes are so doey, you’re literally getting lost in them. The scar he has on his left cheek… You can see it so clearly—the detail of how his skin healed and all. His hair is brushing above his eyebrows and you can’t help but realize how much you like the way it falls on his face. He’s… Cute?

Oh god. 

“D-dont do that—uhh—” You move away from him. This time, there’s an obvious space between you two. Jungkook straightens his posture, completely confused by your burst of emotion. It’s… Conflicting? He swears you two were about to kiss… Now, what’s going on?

“___? What’s wrong?” Jungkook asks with a gentle tone. 

You turn away and shove your notes to your face. Mumbling into the paper, you tell him what’s on your mind. “Everyone thinks you have a crush on me and it’s embarrassing.”

Jungkook doesn’t hear you well. 

“Say that again,” he requests. Without warning, he takes the paper from your hands, leaving you to face him. “Don’t act all cute. What is it?”

You stay silent and contemplate.

Was this worth saying? Was this worth addressing? Would it change anything between you two after? What about the burgers? You’ve been craving a cheesy burger like crazy—

“It’s fine if you don’t feel comfortable. You can tell me later or never. I don’t mean to be pushy—”

Then, you blurt it out. 

“Everyone thinks you have a crush on me… Or something.” 

Jungkook doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t hold his breath. 

He doesn’t deny it. 

“I do have a crush on you.”

Your throat feels dry. What?! Has he lost his mind?

“W-what? You can’t j-just—”

Jungkook tilts his head and pouts. 

“I don’t really understand why I should deny it. Why should I lie? Why should I make an excuse? This is how I feel. You just found out earlier than the confession… I guess this is it though, right?” He laughs. 

You hit his chest. 

“This isn’t funny!”

“Why can’t it be funny?” Jungkook laughs even harder. He catches your wrist and holds you still. “Doesn’t it make you laugh? That everybody on campus watched me wait outside your classes every day for almost 3 months… That everybody waits on me to go to parties but I don’t show up because I rather walk you home and stay home… That everybody on campus watched me enter this goddamn library of a snoozefest—”

“Hey! I like it here.”

“Yeah,” he rolls his eyes at you. “I like you. That’s why I’m here.”

“I… I thought you wanted to study.”

Jungkook laughs even louder, earning a few hushes from others nearby. He groans, throwing his head back. “I can’t even fucking laugh in here without getting in trouble. Why the hell would I like this place?”

“... To study!”

“To be with you.” 

You shut up. 

No words, no thoughts, no feelings. 

Okay…

Feelings. Lots of them. 

“I don’t understand why you’re so overwhelmed,” Jungkook murmurs, leaning his head against your shoulders. “I thought you knew. I thought you figured it out by now. I wasn't exactly discrete."

You sit still, not knowing if you should move or let him settle in. Before you can decide, he sits himself up and grabs your hand. He squeezes it tightly and brings it to his lips. Kissing your hand, he looks at you. 

“Doesn’t matter if you’re dense. Doesn’t matter if you don’t know how you feel right now. I’ll win you over… You’ll fold."

You yank your hand away from him. In response, he leans over and kisses the side of your head instead. You gasp, but your cheeks blush. Quickly, you cover your face with your hands. He laughs heartily, tugging you close to him. You bury your face in his chest and groan at the sinking feeling of wanting to be anywhere but here. This was humiliating!

And just when you think it can't get any worse, Jungkook wraps his arms around you and hugs you tight. As he pats your back, he murmurs—

"You're falling for me already, aren't you?"

#bts fluff #jungkook fluff #jungkook imagine #jungkook scenario #jungkook x yn #jungkook uni au #jungkook fanfic #jungkook one shot #jungkook drabble series #bts scenario #bts fanfic #bts imagine #bts x yn

[suga-kookiemonster]

ctrl-alt-del | jjk (teaser)

summary⇢ you graduated bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, but, to your extreme disappointment, your big girl job isn't turning out to be nearly as exciting as you thought it would be. still, you're holding out hope that your talents will soon be recognized and your coworkers will stop trying to include you in their gossip sessions. enter jungkook, the quiet IT guy who's gradually making your days more bearable. (and if you find him easy on the eyes, that's nobody's business but yours.) pairing⇢ jungkook/reader teaser word count⇢ 1.4k genre⇢ smut | humor | office!au warnings⇢ nothing too bad for this teaser! just a mention of oral

a/n⇢this fic has literally been sitting in my wips for YEARS lmao. i feel like it's finally time to set it free 🕊️✨ it's looking like it's gonna lean more towards pwp, but there's definitely still enough plot in there to keep it interesting. not sure when it will be up, but wanted to share a snippet to get your thoughts and get myself excited to finish the last leg--fingers crossed for the next month or so 🤞🏾🙌🏾💜

When you graduated top of your class with a marketing degree and a job already lined up, you weren’t big-headed to assume you would be given a lot in the beginning. No, you knew that you were the new kid on the block and needed to prove yourself first, needed to work your way up from the bottom. But what you definitely didn’t anticipate was working up from thefigurative trenches, almost exclusively doing busywork—constantly making coffee runs, catering business lunches, printing out endless spreadsheets.

Eighty-thousand dollars in debt, and you are a glorified intern.

You’re positively itching to hit the ground running and get your hands dirty, your job isn’t too bad. The people there are all nice and welcoming, the complimentary coffee in the break room is decent enough for your dwindling bank account, and every couple of weeks, the company sponsors an employee barbecue were everyone can fraternize and enjoy free food.

“Apparently it fosters unity and teamwork,” your coworker Joy informs you as you both stand in the food line. “Seokjin—that’s our CEO—is really big on unity and teamwork.”

Joy is also a member of your marketing team. Though as sweet as can be, she has no filter, and thus always has a lot to say about everything—which has helped you when it comes to learning the ropes about the company, but has also had you clutching your imaginary pearls in some situations where you found it inappropriate. Despite only being a year older than you, her title of Marketing Associate (instead of your measly Assistant)means that she technically outranks you, though she doesn’t usually enforce that fact (unless there was something that needed to be copied or filed, of course). Still, she immediately took you under her wing when you first started, and she is the closest person to a friend you have at work (even though her daily coffee order is always so ridiculous, you are convinced that she has to be fucking with you—or at least engaging in some form of mild hazing.).

“I think it’s nice,” you reply. “I’ll never say no to free food, and they let us out early and everything.”

“I mean, pretty sure you can get the hotdogs twelve in a pack at the dollar store,” Joy quips, raising her eyebrows at you pointedly. “But sometimes the boys from Sales take their shirts off and play soccer, so there’s that.”

Your eyes dart to said Sales boys against your will, gaze drawn to Jung Hoseok as he chats animatedly with his teammates by the tables. You’ve only spoken to him once or twice, but his fiery red hair and even brighter smile caught your attention immediately, your heart rate accelerating at the sight of him in hallways mere days into starting your new position. Who better to have a mild work crush on than a sweet-talking salesman who winks at you sometimes in passing?

An appreciative noise has you turning back around, embarrassed at being caught ogling how shapely Hoseok’s butt looks in his dress pants today, but it’s just Wendy from accounting, Joy’s best friend and thus a harmless, familiar face. Wendy has cut in front of a few editors to join you and Joy, and the way that she smiles at you lets you know she’s up to no good. “He’s cute, huh?” she asks, leaning towards you conspiratorially. “I would definitely give him the good ol’ suck behind the dumpsters over there, if you catch my drift.”

“Err…yeah, I do,” you reply awkwardly. She had been explicitly clear—keyword explicit—so there definitely isn’t any room for misunderstandings. Is this truly appropriate work function conversation? From the way the editors behind you are politely clearing their throats, you think not.

“Behind the dumpster?” Joy asks curiously. “He’s standing right next to some sturdy tables that I, for one, would take great advantage of—”

“I’m gonna go get us some drinks,” you announce loudly, your neck heating up. “Can you grab me a hot dog, Joy?”

“Sure,” she says dismissively, already distracted by her sudden debate with Wendy about the most convenient place to suck off salesman Jung.

The whole conversation is making you uncomfortable. You are not a prude—far from it—but there is a time and place for everything, and your coworkers’ blasé attitude towards speaking about inappropriate topics at company functions on company time rattles you a bit. So instead of engaging in the risqué discussion further, you make your way to the cluster of brightly-colored coolers that presumably hold beverages, sidling up to the only other person lingering the area.

“Anything good?” you ask cordially, making your coworker, who had apparently been deep in thought while considering his beverage options, startle a bit.

He’s tall, his large frame covered in the appropriate business casual attire of nice jeans and a powder-blue buttonup. When he turns his head to look at you, you’re met with large, dark eyes blinking in surprise from behind wire-rimmed glasses. Said eyes dart around for a moment before determining that you were, in fact, speaking to him.

The man clears his throat. “Just the usual,” he says, voice soft. Timid.

“The usual?” you repeat. There are little hoops dangling from his earlobes, and you brush off your surprise at seeing them, returning your gaze to the coolers. Water, a clear soda, a cola. “The basics, you mean. Well, can’t really complain, right? Seeing as it’s all free. I think it’s really nice of them.”

Your companion seems surprised at your words. “It is,” he agrees softly, eyes meeting yours for a second before dropping back down to the cooler. “Um, are you...are you new?”

“Damn, I guess my cover’s blown.” You shoot him a wry smile. “Yeah, I just started a couple of weeks ago. What gave it away?”

“It’s just—no one else here really cares about these barbecues anymore,” he admits, looking at you, but not quite. More like, in your direction. “Everyone has forgotten to appreciate the little things.”

“Nothing is a given,” you shrug. “So you need to appreciate things when you can. And besides, those lots of little things can really add up without you realizing it.”

He finally seems to look at you properly, and the weight of his large, gentle brown eyes throws you off for a second. “They can,” he agrees, lips slowly drifting up. 

“What do we have over here?” a loud voice interrupts, a hand falling to your shoulder. You look up, and are met with the brightness of salesman Jung.

“Ah,” Hoseok says with a wink, reaching into the cooler. “I love Sprite.”

“Me too,” you reply automatically, and then immediately want to smack yourself. Because you don’t—carbonated beverages make you break out. But your mouth had formed the lie without your permission.

Embarrassed, you reach into the cooler, grabbing three water bottles. “See you later,” you squeak, avoiding eye contact as you make your escape.

Joy and Wendy are already watching you when you return to where they have procured a table, and when you hand them their waters, Joy raises an eyebrow. “I was wondering how long you were going to talk to that IT guy.”

“Yeah, and why did you leave when Hoseok showed up?” Wendy pouted. “_____, the universe is only going to give you so many opportunities. If you don’t want the ball, then pass it to me! Goddamn.”

“IT guy?” you ask, hoping to slide past that last remark.

“Yeah. His name is Jungkook, I think? Mostly works with the printers, started a couple months ago.” Joy shrugs, obviously disinterested by the topic. She reaches for the ketchup bottle in the center of the table and squirts some on her hot dog. “This is the first time I’ve seen him at a barbecue, though. Honestly, I’m surprised he even came out, because the IT dudes generally keep to themselves. The rarely leave their little tower,” she adds with a dismissive wave.

Wendy scoffs. “Who cares about Jeremy! Hurry up and eat, I’m sure Sales is gonna start their soccer game soon.”

“Soccer game?” you ask.

“The sales department likes to play soccer during these things,” Joy informs you. Her expression brightens. “Hey, maybe Hoseok will take his shirt off again! Let us pray.”

To your coworkers’ disappointment, Hoseok did not take his shirt off. But they certainly had a good time watching him run back and forth across the grass.

#jungkook fic #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook scenario #bts fic #mine #fic: ctrl alt del #bby

[the-witchhunter]

DP x DC: More stuff to know about Constantine

Just some facts about John Constantine that I don’t see come up in this crossover that I think people could have a lot of fun with. He’s more than just useful for consulting, though he does see himself as a detective, just one specialized in supernatural cases.

-Canonically bisexual: that’s right, canonically bisexual, and a lot of his exes have tried to kill him

-Has demon blood in his veins: this is a fun one because demon blood has ceraint properties in the Hellblazer universe. Chiefly, accelerated healing. John is shown to recover from non-fatal wounds relatively quickly. It’s even been used as a defense mechanism against the King of Vampires. It is also shown to slow down the aging process. John is actually a lot older than he looks

-Ages in real time: Okay, don’t know how this could be used in a fic but it’s fun. He has aged in real time since his first appearance and last mention of his age put him at 60. Currently he’d be turning 70 this year, so that demon blood really keeps him spry

-synchronicity wave traveling: this is his instinctual ability to manipulate coincidences. Aka, he manipulates luck. This means he can’t lose at gambling unless he wants to, and as long as he’s using this ability, he’s pretty much invincible for the duration, because he manages to avoid getting hit by bullets, and spells, as well as jinxing the people trying to hurt him. He’s not only a lucky bastard, but a magically lucky bastard. This ability even worked on the first of the fallen, aka Satan. It is OP while he’s using it.

-The Laughing Magician: He has the title of the laughing magician. There have been multiple over the ages but John is the current one. They are known for their tendency for rebuking and outsmarting Gods, Demons, Spirits and just about everything else. Some even managed to destroy or use Gods for their own purposes. Soley members of Constatine’s bloodline can achieve this title and it’s what gives him the ability to use the synchronicity wave. It also gives him resistance to literal omniscience, aka beings that know everything don’t know what he’s going to do. An argument could be made that this would work to some extent on clockwork. He is literally one of the most powerful mages in the world.

-Possession resistance: He’s resistant to many psychic attacks such as telepathy, soul and body possession, and powerful mind controls. This one has some pretty obvious uses in this crossover.

So, yeah.  Constantine has more going on than just consulting about things. He’s extremely powerful, extremely lucky, though that luck doesn’t extend to other around him, a bit of a weirdness magnet that can surprise beings that know everything. He has access to a bunch of magical artifacts, and is exactly the kind of guy who can and would come out winning against the Ghost King. Not even against Danny, he could do it against Paria Dark.

So yeah, have fun with this information

#Danny Phantom #dp x dc crossover #dp x dc #dp x dc prompt #John Constantine #hellblazer #seriously #there is more to utilize with john beyond the soul selling plotline

[pedropascallme]

How about a fic where the reader also works at Smosh and they recently started dating but they haven't gone beyond kissing AND BAM FIRST TIME HAPPENS- really sexy, fluffy, gentle, maybe he picks her up a little bit, and they take time exploring eachother. You'd do so gooood! We truly need more Damien fic in this fandom 😭🔥

More, More, More

Pairing: Damien Haas x f!Reader

Summary: “You tilted your head, scanning his face; he blinked hard once, and fixed his posture, pushing his shoulders back slightly before relaxing them. Your hand trailed up his arm, tracing his tattoos and then loosely grabbing at his bicep.”

Warnings: SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI) p in v sex, oral (f receiving), fingering, dirty talk, praise, uhhh some Hereditary spoilers I guess? If I missed anything please let me know!

AN: Not super proud of this because I've been studying all week and I feel like my lack of sleep did not contribute to this in any beneficial ways but I still hope you enjoy it <3

“Are you coming with us tonight?” You fell into step with Courtney while you walked down the hall and out of the office.

“No, I don’t think so,” you looked up from your phone, “promised Damien I’d watch Hereditary, and I don’t think he’d let me bail.”

She smiled at you, walking you to your car, “It’s a good movie,” she tilted her head, “And he’s a good guy. I don’t blame you for wanting to stay in.”

“Yeah, well,” you kind of clammed up, “He’s cute and I love a good beheading, so.” You laughed with each other before saying your goodbyes.

You’d been dating him for two months. And it was really and truly delightful; he was kind, and communicative, and above all so, so pretty. It had started so naturally, harbored crushes surfacing to reveal themselves at the right time, and progressed so smoothly, and you were thrilled by it.

Still, you let the familiar fear of rejection take control at times; the anxiety that maybe you were moving too quickly and that he was only a fraction as interested in you as you were in him. So the physical affection stayed surface level—literally—in that you kissed and touched but hadn’t gone beyond second base, if you remembered the laws of high school correctly.

And that was fine, and he hadn’t said anything, hadn’t put pressure on you to do anything you didn’t want—but you really did want it. You wanted to let him have you, let him take you in taboo ways and places. Maybe that made you a bit deviant, maybe even a little perverse. But it was hard to be with someone so…flawless, as far as you were concerned, and not want something like that, even when the voices in your head told you that you shouldn’t, or that you weren’t nearly as experienced as any of his past partners might have been.

Comparison meets joy, and stabs it right in the neck.

~~~

“Be honest with me,” you sat next to Damien on the couch, curling your legs beneath you and leaning over towards him, “Did you want to watch this with me just so you could hold me during the scary parts?”

“Yeah, but not for the reasons you think,” he draped an arm over your shoulder, pulling you closer to him, “I’m fucking terrified of it, and I need my big strong girlfriend to protect me.” He smiled, clearly amused by himself, and you blew a piece of hair out of his face.

“Wuss.” You kissed him, hand toying with his collar, before sitting back and leaning on his shoulder.

“Yeah? Remember that you said that tonight when you turn off the lights.” He shot you a dubious grin before grabbing the remote. You watched the muscle in his wrist move when he pressed the buttons, captivated by the small details of his body and the way he mouthed the titles of the movies that popped up on the TV screen while he flicked through previously watched films.

You tilted your head, scanning his face; he blinked hard once, and fixed his posture, pushing his shoulders back slightly before relaxing them. Your hand trailed up his arm, tracing his tattoos and then loosely grabbing at his bicep.

“I’ll still remember you’re a wuss when the lights are off.” You mumbled, and he looked down at you.

“You seem so sure.” He watched your hand sweep over his arm, nails barely grazing his skin.

“You think I should be contemplating something else?” You goaded him, unsure of where the sudden confidence had come from and why it had appeared only now. “Don’t you want me to think about you when the lights are off?” You continued with your double entendres. You saw him swallow, and from your position, leaning over him with your hand now on his chest, you could feel his heartbeat pick up.

God, he was nice to look at.

“No, I do,” he put down the remote, reaching over to hold your chin in his hand and guide you up to him, “but I think my proposal might be a little more…vulgar.”

You smiled against his mouth when he kissed you, the leisurely pace allowing you to take your time tasting him, feeling the shape of him near you, on you. You sat up, giving yourself room to lace your fingers in his hair and pull him even closer, and he let you; an arm wrapped around your waist to secure you against him.

“You wanna watch this movie with me or not?” You quipped when you separated from him, and he smiled, shaking his head.

“Yes—yeah. I do want to watch this with you,” he paused, before continuing, “You, uh…you wanna tell me something?” He sort of shifted in his seat, tilting his head back on the couch cushions to drink you in.

“What?”

“Where that came from?”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” you played dumb, heat creeping up your neck and splashing your cheeks red; you tried not to lose your new surge of confidence, reassuring yourself that his line of questioning was a result of mutual excitement. You leaned over him to grab the remote and press play before you crawled into his lap to straddle him.

“You gonna watch this way?” His hands found purchase on your hips.

“I haven’t told you about this skill?” You kept up your act.

“No, I was unaware of the eyes on the back of your head,” he squeezed your hips and you hummed at the feeling, “But it’s pretty hot. I love a woman with twenty/twenty/twenty/twenty vision.”

You heard the movie play behind you; the score and the sound of voices droning softly. “Can I be honest,” you traced a finger over his collar, “I’m not that interested in the movie right now.”

“How dare you,” Damien feigned hurt, “This is a serious breach of protocol—” his hands crawled up your back before he stood, picking you up with him, and laying you on your back, caging you under him while you laughed from the adrenaline that came with being picked up and put down so quickly. “And I absolutely will not have it,” he kissed down your neck and you grabbed at his hair. “This switch up will not go unpunished.” He brought his face back up to yours and kissed you deeply, your hand tightening in his hair when his tongue slipped past your lips.

“Tell me if it’s too much?” He urged, nose brushing against your cheek when he broke away from you.

“Keep going.”

“You’re sure?”

“Damien, I don’t think there’s a sexy way to say this: I really want to have sex with you right now.” Your hand fell from his hair and trailed over his neck, stopping between his shoulder blades, and pulling gently at his shirt.

“Sounded pretty sexy to me,” he smirked, continuing his ministrations, kissing down your neck, lips stopping just above the collar of your shirt. He reached under the hem of the fabric, warm palms brushing against your skin while he explored you. You gasped when he cupped your breast in his hand, his free arm finding its way under your body to prop you up slightly and allow him easier access to you.

You’d done this before, had him touch you like this, but it felt so much more charged in this moment; the promise of more to come made you antsy in the best way, having previously stopped here. His hands kept exploring, with your chest, your stomach, and the curve of your spine all finding relief under his hands. You slid one hand under his shirt, desperate to be as close to him as possible; your other hand continued to tug on the back of his collar, encouraging him to rid himself of the layer of fabric.

He gave in to your silent request, pulling away from you momentarily to take it off before returning his undivided attention to you and, with his hands on your waist, bunching your shirt up at your sides, offered you another heated kiss.

You felt restless, wired by his touch and eager to feel him in the ways you had spent so much time imagining. Your hips bucked gently into his, and you heard his breath catch in his throat, his chest stuttering against you when you deepened the kiss, arms wrapping around his neck and one leg draped over him. Your hands trailed over his back, drinking in his frame above you. You tugged at his hair to disconnect momentarily, panting.

“Can I…?” His hand ghosted over the hem of your shirt while you looked up at him.

“Please.” You gave him the go-ahead, and he pulled you up a bit to help you strip off your shirt. He wasted no time, licking a streak across your collar bone before dipping his head down to kiss the valley between your breasts; he left open-mouthed kisses on the soft flesh and you put a hand on the back of his neck, unsure whether to enjoy the view or allow your head to loll back to fully embrace the feeling of his mouth on your body. His thumb grazed over one of your nipples, and you gasped at the contact.

“Beautiful,” he mumbled against your chest, focused on the way the emerging goosebumps on your skin felt against his tongue and fingers, “you’re so beautiful.”

“Damien,” you tilted his chin up in your fingers, “pants.”

“Fuck—right.” He tore himself away from you, hands flying to the zipper of your jeans to undo them and peel them off your legs. He toyed with the waistband of your panties, undeniably obvious wet spot soaking through with your desire, before lowering his face to your core and licking a stripe over your clothed cunt. You whimpered, hand reaching for his shoulder and squeezing, encouraging him to continue. He repeated the action, looking up at you from between your legs to watch your eyes flutter before you let your head fall back against the armrest of the couch.

“Can I take them off?” One of his fingers softly brushed against your clit over your panties.

“You can do whatever you want,” and you were only half-joking, so trusting of him and his intentions, “Take them off.”

Damien did as he was told, pulling the fabric down your thighs. He let one of his fingers trail up your slit, letting you coat it with your slick before using it to rub tight circles on your clit.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he had moved himself down the couch, propping himself up on his forearms above your core, and, using the position to his advantage, he licked into you, finally getting a proper taste. You moaned, a breathy sound that pushed all the air from your lungs, and it spurred him on: his tongue fucked into you while he used his finger to massage your clit, grinding his hips into the couch to find friction when you moaned his name.

He removed his finger from your clit, letting it trace over your hole before sinking into you; you let out a sigh of contentment, and he pumped it slowly in and out of you, taking your clit between his lips and sucking, before adding another digit. You mewled down at him, whispers of his name and begs for him to continue his movements, promises of how good you would be for him if he would just, please, let you cum. He moaned at your words, the vibrations shooting through your core, and when he sped up his movements ever so slightly, you were an absolute goner; one last swipe of his tongue over your clit in time with the push of his fingers against your walls had you crying out for him.

You gulped for air, dizzy with satisfaction, and when you looked down at him, he was already staring at you, his face painted with a dopey grin. “Hi.”

“Hi,” you smiled, letting your head fall back on the couch. He climbed up and over you, kissing your forehead.

“You’re pretty when you cum for me,” he rubbed his nose against yours before moving to kiss your cheek, “wanna see you do it again.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He nodded, lips brushing against yours and you closed the gap between them; you could taste the sweet edge of your own cum on his tongue.

“Make me.” You whispered against him, and he groaned into the kiss, pushing his hips against yours.

Hesitantly, he broke away, standing to undo his belt and undress. You watched, transfixed, eyes trailing from his collar to his legs. The background noise of the movie rose to a crescendo before falling quiet.

“Baby,” his hand fell over your face, cupping your cheek.

“Mhm.”

“We just missed the decapitation scene.” His words were laced with a faux disappointment, and you bit the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing.

“Guess you’ll just have to bide your time until you can find the remote and rewind.” You pulled at his arm, and he crawled back onto the couch, positioning himself above you.

“I mean—if you insist,” he laughed, kissing your neck while he lined himself up with you. The tip of his cock nudged at your entrance and the mood returned to a more serious tone. “Gonna be good for me?” His forehead rested against yours, “Gonna tell me what you need?”

“Yeah,” you breathed, squirming just enough to feel a hint more relief with his cock so close to where you needed it. “Need you, Damien.”

“Good girl.” He pushed into you slowly, letting you adjust to the stretch as he went. Mouth open and eyes squeezed shut at the feeling, he moaned softly when he bottomed out. You clawed at his arms, pulsing around him.

“More,” you pleaded under him.

“Oh my god,” he keened at your words, pushing his hips into yours even further before pulling out to repeat the motion over again; long, languid thrusts filling you up, dropping kisses on any exposed skin you could reach on each other between moans. “Tell me—tell me how it feels, baby.” Damien whispered into the skin of your cheek, his words quiet in your ear.

“It’s so good,” you whined at the drag of his cock against your walls, tip pushing against your most sensitive spots with every roll of his hips. “Want it—harder, please, Damien.”

He gave in to your cries immediately; straightening himself out above you, one arm reaching for your leg to prop it up against his shoulder, he used it as leverage to pull you into him. You yelped, well pleased by the new angle and the deep push of his hips, eyes rolling back when he brushed your cervix.

“Christ, you’re so pretty,” he grit his teeth, growling his words, “You like that, baby? Like feeling me like this?”

Your face contorted into a hazy smile, ragged moans taking the place of a coherent answer to his question. You reached out for him, raising your arms to encourage him to drop back down to your level; he pushed your leg down, and you wrapped it around his waist when he leaned forward to kiss you, engulfing you underneath him. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, trying to capture every inch of your body to bottle in this memory. You whined at the feeling of his stubble on your neck, the vague tickle making you giggle softly into his shoulder before your own moans cut your laughter short. He smiled, hips still driving into you.

“Doing so good, baby, give me one more.” He gave himself the space to snake an arm between your bodies, fingers deftly finding your clit and kneading it to pair with his thrusts. You arched your back, consumed by need, desperate to show him how good he made you feel. He sped up, movements becoming rougher the closer you both got to your highs; he rolled your clit under his finger and you gripped his bicep, nails threatening to break his skin as you came for him.

“That’s right—fuck, that’s my good girl,” He praised you while you trembled under him, cunt squeezing his cock while he drew out your orgasm. “So fucking good, that’s it.” He rambled, mouth agape once more as he hurtled towards the edge; after a few more deep thrusts, he pulled out of you, fisting his cock and spilling over your stomach with a moan of your name. His cum was warm on your skin, mixing with the sheen of sweat that had developed over you.

He slumped over you, leaving open mouthed kisses on your neck while he evened out his breathing; you took deep breaths underneath him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pushing your cheek into the crown of his head.

“That was,” he breathed against your skin, bringing his face to your level, and kissing your nose, “better than a movie.”

“That’s high praise.” You mumbled, letting him press a gentle kiss to your lips.

“I know,” he smiled, a familiar playful glint in his eye, “Don’t you feel honored?”

“So much,” you laughed, “and sweaty.”

He stood up, locating his shirt near the coffee table. He turned back to you, using it to wipe down your stomach and the wet that dripped between your legs, peppering your abdomen with kisses. One of your fingers scooped a spot he had missed on your stomach, and you brought it to your mouth to lick it clean.

“Damien…” you released your finger with a pop, and he returned to his spot on the couch, pulling you up to lean against him. He looked at you, silently pressing you to continue, eyes fixed on your lips, silently hoping you might repeat the action just so he could see it again. “Can we rewind the movie?”

He laughed, wrapping his arms around you and kissing the top of your head. “If you think you can get through it without getting distracted.”

“Mm,” you grunted, pushing yourself further into him, “no promises.”

#damien haas #damien haas fanfiction #damien haas smut #damien haas x reader #damien haas x you #smosh #smosh fanfiction #smosh fic #smosh smut #smoshblr #smosh pit #smosh games #smosh squad

[tenderlyrenjun]

7Dream and bouts of some relationship insecurity

I don't really know how to title this, but yeah ...

includes ... making out, suggestive/implied sexual content, light swearing, references to fist fights, alcohol mentions, food mentions, jealousy/insecurity, vague choking; Juyeon cameo, hey babe ... also, I got carried away with one of these because I originally had it as part of a fic but I just deleted the fic instead so, yeah, sorry, you can ... really tell which one it is ._. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. YOU GET BLOCKED AND REPORTED.

Mark Lee

"Hey, man, come on. That's my girl."

The single sentence took less than a minute, but the conversation ended with Mark's fist through the guy's jaw and with security escorting all five of you - you, Mark, Jaemin, Renjun, and Yeein - out the back door. Everyone else opted to head home, since the entrance fee was, like, ₩50,000 to account for weekend tax.

Mark barely managed a quick good-bye over the driver's door before you slammed your own door shut. You probably should have driven, since his knuckles continuously cracked along the steering wheel, but driving relaxes him, something he needed, especially after that incident. Some guy kept chatting you up, standing way too close, borderline touching your ass, even though you redirected away from him, several times. And Mark knows, and trusts, that you would never leave him, much less cheat on him; he has the upmost faith in you, if his constant words of affirmation are anything to believe, but that does not mean he has to trust everyone else, epsecially when alcohol comes into the mix, heightening emotions too much. And he didn't blame you - doesn't blame you. You look hot, something on which he commented ... very enthusiastically before even going to the bar, with your satin mini-dress, a small (literally) article he bought while thinking about you on a work trip.

But as he sped down to your apartment, you - his passenger princess - pointed your knees at the window, just generally looking away from him. He cramped his fingers on the steering wheel that time, flooring the gas pedal. Then, you, silently, guided him into your apartment, sitting him down in the bathroom, where you, now, wrap his knuckles.

Mark watches you take a salve, applying it via cotton swab over the dried blood, accidentally reopening the would, much to his grimace. Though, he says nothing. The frown embedded between your brows and the heavy breathing in the room prevents him from opening his mouth. So, he lets you paw at his hand, only letting out soft grunts when you overextend his thumb (it got caught on the guy's jaw after Mark went in for a third punch). Eventually, you finish with the salve, wiping away the excess with toilet paper, and you get up, walking out the small half-bathroom.

"I'm sorry," Mark calls softly. He half hopes you don't hear him, over the blaring air vent, because you still have yet to even look at him, in the eye, since you got in his shiny, red car. But, still, you return; eyes trained on the ground though, waving a beige roll of adhesive tape. And he repeats it, even gentler, saying your name this time, "Babe?"

"Hmm?"

"I said I'm sorry."

You stare at him, for awhile. He sees your eyes scan his face, probably lingering at the one or two cuts from when that guy landed a blow, and your fingers slip, accidentally fastening the bandage around his abductor muscle. And Mark resets his jaw, with his prettier hand, just thinking about the bar incident all over again. But then, your face drops, into your lap, and his face drops.

"No, yeah, I heard," you return, sighing, then unwrap his hand to fix your mistake. "I," you swallow thickly, licking your lips, refocusing on his fingers. Gingerly you turn them over in your polished hands, grazing his purpling skin comfortingly. "You don't have to be sorry," you say softly, "I just ... I didn't ..." You pause, dropping his hand back in his thigh, and kneel between his legs. "I didn't know you could be that kind of hot," you confess, smile fighting its way onto your face. You let out a breathless chuckle, cutting it short when you bite your lip. So, Mark pulls it from your teeth, palm brushing into your cheek. "You ... were really ... sexy." You run your hand up and down his inner thigh, and his knee twitches. "Normally, you, um, you use your words." You look up at him through your lases, teetering on your knees, still wearing that short, satin dress he bought, the loose neckline swaying teasingly. "And you're really good with your words."

Mark bites his lip this time, shifting his hips down the toilet seat on where he sits. "Gotta - Gotta defend my girl, yanno?"

You stand on your knees, taller, and Mark gets even closer, the two of you a magazine-width apart. His palm lowers down your cheek, down your jaw, settling above your collarbone. He presses, gently, at first, then squeezes around your neck, entire upper body shuddering. You breathe upward, on his lips, seam of your mouth breaking with each gasp, then move first, straddling his legs, drawing closer - yet so far - to his face.

"Well, you got your girl," you whisper. And his hand squeezes again, holding you at a distance to hear what you say, even though he keeps tilting his head across your pretty collar. "What are you gonna do now?"

Huang Renjun

You take off your couple bracelet, leaving it in the key dish by the door, before heading to work, and Renjun found it, an hour later, when he was running late to the office. He said nothing, that night, collapsing in bed before you even finished your evening skincare routine. Then, you changed your phone case to some new otterbox, replacing his matching universe one, as you both went out to dinner with Juyeon and Jun. Still, Renjun said nothing, holding the elevator door open for you and a few older ladies. The following weekend, he plucked up the courage, before a brunch date, to bring up another couple accessory before you could show him its absence:

"Are you going to wear your ring today?"

You pause, in front of the vanity mirror, steel makeup spatula a hair away from your cheek, and look at him through his reflection. Renjun gnaws inside his bottom lip. He stands at the foot of your shared bed, his coat strewn over the neatly pleated duvet. Oppositely - as oppositely has you have been from him this week - you sit across the room, at the small dressing table, still wearing your bathroom, hair wet in the front where you have yet to blow dry. Eventually, after an eternity, you turn to face him, placing the spatula, elevated, on the open foundation cap.

"I don't know," you confess slowly. "Should I?"

Renjun inhales sharply. "It's your choice," he emphasizes. But he shows you his silver ring on his right hand, the accessory pinched before his pinky. "I'm wearing mine."

You turn back to the mirror and finish applying the sunscreen, simply nodding at him, acknowledging his statement - neither confirming nor denying your own end. He thinks you might continue like that - passive aggressive - for the rest of the day, through the entire date even, but you surprise him, rotating again. You sigh, once, breaking the seam between your lips, then close them again, tongue cleaning your teeth, obviously. He waits another second, giving you the space to organize your thoughts. And you finally speak.

"I'm sorry," you whisper, staring at the ground. You swallow thickly, just once, then look at him, repeating, "I'm sorry, Junjun." You swallow again, blinking more rapidly, and Renjun crosses the room to hug you, your hands instantly climbing around his waist as he cradles your head against his stomach, your tears ruining his button-up shirt. "I know that I've been impossible lately," you confess, "I just ... Seeing someone else hit on you last week didn't ... It didn't feel good."

"I didn't know," Renjun admits, "that you felt that way."

"I didn't want you to know," you muffle, pawing his shirt.

"But you have to tell me," he says, "when I do something that makes you feel bad, especially if I don't catch on in the moment. I love you, only you." He kisses the top of your head. The hostess, at dinner last week, hit on him when she thought he came alone, but he was just reserving the table for you two; then, she persisted through the dinner, only stopping 30-minutes later, after you and he stayed later than her shift. But still, she left her number for him, much to both your annoyances. Though, it seems as though his annoyance wasn't evident enough. "Next time, I'll stop it sooner, I promise." He detaches your face from his shirt and cups your cheeks, thumbs brushing away loose tears. "Do you still want to go to brunch?"

You shake your head, no, and apologize, "Not really. Sorry."

"Don't apologize," he whispers, pecking you quickly. "I'll order us some fried rice from the restaurant across town and make it up to you in bed."

Lee Jeno

It happened a couple days ago, last weekend, but Jeno has been ruminating - through all the car rides to work, all the mundane chores around the apartment, all the lonesome meals he has to eat while you work from your office - about that barista who asked for your number.

You didn't hand it out, obviously, only shooting a raised eyebrow until you got your card back. And Jeno ... he kinda just clung to you the rest of the date - making you sit in his lap, head on your shoulder, arms tight around your waist, which had you asking to use the bathroom. He knows that his behavior persisted home, over, essentially, the week, creating this ... this distance between the two of you - during drama marathons when you would otherwise cuddle; during dinners alone together in your apartment, during sex, but he can't help it: he got in his own head about it. Not even rebuilding his LEGO bonsai tree could mediate his thoughts.

And he tried.

Jeno ended up going through the motions, blindly attaching turntables to tyres, while he stared more at the coffee table than pieces. Then, you came home, as he finished assembling the cherry blossom stems (he did the green foliage, too, not yet having a preference for either), and sat on the floor with him, leaning your cheek on his shoulder, nuzzling into his hoodie.

"I missed you."

Jeno shrugs, not enough to shove you off though because your cheek rolls a little further on his chest, immobilizing his left arm. "You saw me this morning."

"Yeah, but -" You slide into his lap, resting your head over his thighs. He lifts his elbows a little higher, as you squirm around, nudging your face toward the ceiling, though you stare at him, only him. It gives him some comfort, and his hand moves automatically, coming down to caress your face. "- I don't know," you confess, "I guess I just felt a little ..." You scrunch your nose, and he rubs away the lines in your cheeks, making you grab his wrist, dragging him onto your stomach, twiddling with his long, nimble fingers. "... insecure? Lonely? Maybe?"

"Is that a question?"

"No," you shake your head. You turn on your side, burying your face in his abdomen. Jeno drops the remaining LEGO pieces and threads his free hand in your hair, matting it backwards. You sigh, deeply, "I guess I might just need some extra support, or something, right now. I love you, you know."

"Mmhmm," he nods, because he does know, that you love him. "I love you, too." It's just that Jeno doesn't like the idea of someone occupying your time the way he should. So, he lays down on the ground, too, scooting back a bit until you're face-to-face, albeit upside down, like a Spider-Man kiss. And he blinks up from your lips to eyes, seeing you watch him. "I'm sorry," he apologizes first.

You offer him a small smile. "You don't have to be sorry. It's not your fault." Tentatively, you stutter a hand toward his hair, only digging your fingers in his scalp after he nods an okay, though he also confirms that he thinks it's his fault, from how much he has been pulling away this week. "I just need some extra support, if you're able."

"And if I'm not?"

You tilt your head to the side, and Jeno frowns.

"If I'm not enough?" he clarifies.

"Then," you kiss him quickly before he can respond, elongating it for another moment, "we can support each other." You hold his chin still, staring him in the eyes. "But you are," you enunciate, "enough, more than enough."

Lee Haechan

You should have stayed home.

Really.

Haechan didn't even want to go out, didn't even want to come to the restaurant. He was content staying at home, drinking wine from tumblers rather than these elongated goblets; he already bought you flowers. You don't need to hold a glass stem and drink wine over an unreasonably exorbitant dinner. He has the same wine at home(!), the exact same Boudreaux you ordered, and he can make a steak just as well.

Okay, maybe not, but he can have Jaemin make a steak for you just as well as the chef at this restaurant, or he could order it to home. Or you could eat the really good lobster that his mom made him take yesterday. And you could pop open the rosé, over rose-scented candles, instead of the cheap taper candle - a single one - decorating your current tablecloth. There are people, too, sitting so much closer than he would like, preventing him from having an actual conversation with you.

Oh, and it got worse when the waiter started flirting with you.

At first, neither of you noticed, focused more on the menu, debating between steak or mushroom bruschetta to pair with the Boudreaux you love. Then, you laughed at some stupid joke, politely, probably, if Haechan were more level-headed, less peeved, and the waiter started flirting more enthusiastically.

"Babe?"

"Hmm?" You tilt your chin at him, still swirling your wine, reading off the drinks list.

"Baby," he tries again, whining the last syllable further. And you toss him a short glance, smile extending longer than your gaze. "Baby," he sighs, "can't you pay attention to me?"

"I am," you answer, and finally put down the small menu, but you stay there, far away from him. So, Haechan stands up, halfway, pulling your chair next to his until he sits down with his arm behind your shoulders. Haechan touches his forehead on yours, making you maintain eye contact, noses brushing together. "What's wrong, my love?" you ask him, rubbing his free arm.

In lieu of an answer, he drops his hand down your knee, curling under your skirt.

"My love?" you try again.

And he stops moving his hand up your dress, stopping as far as your thighs separate, fingers itching toward your underwear. He exhales once, twice, breath shaking, then looks at you through his glasses. "I like it when you call me that."

"What? My love?"

Haechan nods. "Makes me feel like I'm yours," he mumbles.

You giggle at him, patting his arm. "Because you are, dummy." You peck his lips, falling back into your chair before he has the chance to deepen the kiss. He feels like he lost you again tonight, or like he has the potential to lose you, so he tenses his fingers between your thigh, opposite hand incidently rocking your chair up so high that you slide into his lap. "My love," your breath hitches again.

And Haechan nods, kissing your neck a little longer, tongue tracing his name in your skin.

"Yours." ♡

Na Jaemin

Honestly, he shouldn't be staring. But Jaemin could burn a hole in your head, or obliterate that guy you're with - Juyeon, or Juhyon, or something.

It was a coincidence that Jaemin even sees you here, at this nightclub, with an absurd ₩70,000 entrance fee. Mark only convinced him to go after promising to do his scut for the weekend.

That, and Jaemin may or may not have been stalking your Instagram; especially after you removed him from your close friends story - he knows, because Renjun is still on your list. You pushed him onto some other list with more people he couldn't see, not that he knew anyone on your following; you're not even really friends, just met through Renjun at some hookup party. And you do hookup with him, whenever he calls, which isn't as often as he thought, evidently, he considers now, since he apparently doesn't know what you do the other days of the week.

Like wear that black mini-dress while dancing on Juyeon, of all people.

Jaemin rolls his eyes and sips his beer, wincing in the same second when it touches his lips (Haechan is a liar, and he is not taking beer recommendations ever again). He has been waiting for about 15 or 20 minutes, for you to notice him, just acknowledge that he is here, in the same space as you, but you remain oblivious, sliding your arms in the air, shimming in front of Juyeon, who keeps trying to bring your waist close. It takes another ten minutes before he slams his empty glass on the bar, spinning around to trudge the dance floor.

Except, as he spins around, narrowly missing a line of Kamikaze shots placed a little too close to the edge, he bumps into you, literally. His arm swerves over your head, and he takes a step back to avoid making the both of you fall down. And you catch his waist, with both hands, a short leg stepping between his, for balance, his spinning head tells him.

"Jaemin?" you call, standing on your toes to whisper in his ear. Instinctively, he steadies your waist, toppling your heels down to the ground, leaning his ear to your lips. "Did you hear me?"

The Jaemin in question pulls back, slightly, his nose grazing yours. He flickers his eyes up and finds you staring at him, granted less intense than he had been, breath hitched at the back of your mouth, slowly scanning his entire face. Jaemin brushes your hair behind your ear, needlessly, most of it tied up. The glitter stickers highlight the actual makeup high on your cheekbones, under the blue false lashes mixed in with brown ones. His hand lingers over your face, wrist tilting head back, chin up, long fingers making you stand still, gaze dipping back and forth between your lips and eyes. And fortunately, all the other couples - whether they came together or hooked up - blend you two with the rest of the crowd, little bubbles of intimacy keeping everyone separated. You all ignore each other, per atmosphere, so Jaemin takes the opportunity to kiss you.

"No," he confesses, pecking you quickly, once, twice, three times, dragging your neck along with every move he does to deepen it. "I wasn't listening." Jaemin breaks first, squeezing your waist tighter, because you might have to get back to Juyeon on the dance floor. And he closes his eyes, leaning in again, lips ghosting a breath over yours. "Come home with me," he asks, and he squeezes again. "Just ... come home with me."

"Jaemin ..." you start, but he kisses his name off your lips, even quicker, replacing it with a soft moan. He bumps you against the bar, his knuckles taking most of the blunt force, against the wood, holding you steady as he waddles impossibly close. You seem to respond, fingers dipping into his bicep, puckering back. Then, you shake your head, knocking him away. "Jaemin, I'm here with someone else."

"Don't be. Come home with me." Jaemin's voice cracks, "Please? Just be with me, not him." He squeezes you again, stuttering down your lips, slotting his leg between your knees. Jaemin peeks both his eyes open, just a crack, and finds you nodding at him.

"Okay, let's go."

Zhong Chenle

"Your shirt looks so nice," the girl at his left compliments, fawning over the empty seat, even though she probably can't see the full Go, Go, Power-Rangers logo under both his bomber jacket and the dim club lights. The sole light source comes from the shelves behind the bar on which Chenle leans, only his brown hair shining obviously as he nods, slowly, eyes trained on the path to the bathroom. "I'd love to see it more," she tries, leaning even closer, almost touching his arm.

Then, he raises his hand, sliding further down the bar.

And you walk toward him, waving, "Hey," all the way until you take the stool he saved for you on his right. You also grab the glass of wine he kept not-so-subtly hidden behind his elbow and eye the meniscus without looking at him. "Have you been drinking my wine?"

Chenle just smiles at you. His arm snakes under your arms, high on your torso, as he nuzzles into your neck, chest prepped to laugh, but you smack him.

"You can order your own!"

He kisses your jugular, just once, briefly, giggling more animatedly than he had been talking to the girl, who is still there (!) by the way.

"I did," Chenle answers, "but I think the bartender likes you more. He didn't pay any attention to me while you were gone those whole ten minutes," he pouts.

"Umm," the girl interrupts, "Excuse me?"

"Mmm," you swallow the remaining ounce of wine and put it back behind Chenle on the table, tapping the rim twice at one of the bartenders for a refill. You extend your arm for a handshake, across your boyfriend's chest, but she just stares at it, at your fingers, at the matching, dainty watch adorning your wrist, until you retract, both hands now resting on Chenle's shoulder. "Did you want to drink with us? We're just waiting for our table." You lean in closer, like giving away a secret, and Chenle laughs into the air, catching your waist before you fall off the stool. "We got here early for the cucumber martinis because they stop serving them at 7, and this one -" You point at Chenle. "- can't mix a drink for shit."

"Hey!" He pulls you upright, standing full in front of you, back toward the girl as he fixes the straps of your dress. "I spike your lemonades just fine." The bartender, who ignored him earlier, gives him a suspicious look, to which Chenle tries to wave off, showing that you are his girlfriend who frequents his home and has sex with him willingly. And he brings you down the stool, under his wing, incidentally flashing his inappropriate-for-a-Michelin-restaurant Power Rangers t-shirt. "Plus, I don't have to mix the Sauvignon Blanc when I cook you dinner."

"No," you crinkle your nose, pushing his face away, laughing at his pout. "You just make me wash the dishes." In the minute beat, you look back, over his shoulder, and see the girl finally gone, then you settle back onto the stool, pulling Chenle, by his open jacket, between your legs. "Oh, no," you feign, pouting and running your hands down his sides, "Your new friend left. Do you think it was my fault?"

Chenle kisses the top of your head, giggling into your hair. "Were you jealous?" he teases. You don't answer; you just bite your lip and trap him tighter, heels almost making him plié before you, fists wrinkling his shirt. "You don't have anything to worry about, princess," he whispers and pecks you quickly. "You're my one and only. I wouldn't do anything to create a misunderstanding like that." He kisses you deeper, attaching his hands down your waist, rubbing circles with his thumbs, as you wrap your arms around his neck, half standing off the chair to kiss him better, the sweet red wine taste staining your tongue. "With anyone," he clarifies, palm caressing your cheek, to stop you from jumping his bones in this very public bar-restaurant. "You know you're my girl."

He kisses you again, pressing your back into the bar, folding your neck 90-degrees against your spine. Your chin rolls around, letting out a silent open-mouthed moan, and Chenle slips his tongue down your throat, dissipating that sweet, dry flavor off your lips, gently breathing life back into your mouth. He rubs the hair in front of your ear, thumb growing outward to draw his three-letter initials on your cheeks. You kick your leg up, inner thigh resting on his outer one. He feels your dress slip up, shorter, over his pants, and whimpers a small praise about your soft lips.

Then, the bartender who shows you a little too much favoritism comes back, tapping your cup on the counter, and Chenle, panting, shields you away from the new glass of wine, frowning at all five ounces.

"On second thought, maybe we should just go home."

Park Jisung

Jisung pulls you into his chest, around your shoulders, spinning you until your back faces that bartender, the one at whom he glares.

"How's your drink, baby?" he asks through shaky breath, teeth gritted. Jisung puffs out his chest too, while you finish another sip, nearly moaning, and pushes his thumb into his pocket, readjusting the front of his leather pants that you hide.

"Mmm, fresh,." you answer, obliviously, wiping the corner of your mouth with your index finger, platinum couple ring shining a few digits down under the colorful changing lights. You smack your painted pink lips together, loud enough for him to hear above the club music. "Can't even taste the vodka, really, and -" You raise the small glass to his lips, prompting him to sample your free drink, too, which he does, tongue pushing back on the rip before you spill all over his white shirt. "- the cucumbers are still crisp."

Jisung nods, a slice hitting his top lip. He has to hold your wrist still when you start trembling, splashing a drop of alcohol on his chest. You do nothing about it, simply curling into his torso, an arm belting behind his waist, feet waddling around his, resting your cheek between his open jacket zippers.

"Better be," he mumbles, chest vibrating.

"What was that?" you ask, almost innocently, staring at him through your eyelashes, cucumber martini glass finding your hand behind his back. And he wonders whether you looked at that guy - the bartender - like this, wide-eyed and pouting, tongue poking through the seam of your lips, when you got this free drink, never mind tonight's sample offer over the experimental martini. "Ji...sung," you hiccup between his name, placing a hand over his chest, his heart.

But he frowns, even deeper, and takes down your hand. A little too forcefully, given the way you step back, on your own, wobbling backwards over your heels. You tilt your head to the side, not-so-subtly checking him out, and raise an eyebrow. Jisung doesn't bother to look at you, simply inhaling, raising his broad shoulders taller. He rolls his eyes to the right, incidentally at the bar, with the bartender. And he glares again.

Jisung tightens his arm around your waist. And he knows - he knows how this looks: possessive, possibly overbearing, protective, which is what he half-wants. He also knows that he indirectly tells you not to touch, despite holding you closer, his fingers clenching into a fist that pushes you deeper into his wide chest. You hand balances over his pec to keep you both balanced upright without anything behind him to catch either of you from falling.

But he mumbles, "Don't touch," teeth nearly scraping each other, individually, and, again, he takes your hand down, making you frown as equally deep, though your brows furrow as high as your gaze. You wrap all your fingers around your cup, and he curls his hands into your dress, digging toward the hem, incidentally pulling the material up, just below your underwear. "I don't like you flirting with other guys," he confesses, eyes fluttering shut.

Jisung's hands grab you simultaneously, in the same way, one at your waist and the other at your neck; your own hands bracing your cup against his chest. He sighs, dropping his chin down your cheek, pressing a kiss behind your ear. Your drink is still an inconvenience. So, Jisung takes it, placing it on a random table, then drags you into a private room and jostles you against the door, accidentally increasing the distance. He just moved too fast, and you still comply, not touching him. In the wait, you lick your lips, chest heaving high. And he pushes you backwards again, slower this time, by your hips, guiding you onto a firm surface as he descends. He stops halfway, drawing back a millimeter on his next breath, flickering his eyes at yours. They're already closed. So, he leans in.

"You should only be flirting with me."

And he almost closes his eyes, too, pausing halfway again to watch you anticipate his kiss, teetering on your toes, fingers twitching toward him. The urge to blink forces him to look away before he sees you pout, equally. But he feels it.

Jisung feels the way you roll around your head as he opens his mouth wide, searching for the best angle to kiss you. He puckers his lips sideways, simply pressing on your mouth, almost cutting off your response (if you were going to say anything). And when you gasp, silently, letting him sneak his bottom lip between your teeth, he cracks open his eyes, only slightly, enough to make sure that you're enjoying this, enjoying him, only him. You bite him on a close, barely using your teeth to keep him from leaving again, and he runs his thumb along the side of your face, outside your ear, long fingers supporting your head when you falter.

But you don't pull away.

Instead, you fist his shirt, incidentally pulling it from his pants. And he drives you into the wall, changing the slope of his nose, reflecting it over yours on the other side, brows falling further. Jisung catches you right as you lick your lips and sucks your tongue in his mouth. You mewl, breathless, something audible - although incoherent - finally escaping. And he returns it, moaning an mmmh. His hand at your waist, hits the wall, bracing himself from going too far, moving too fast. You drag him closer, one thigh between your legs, fingers touching his Adonis belt.

And he has to pull away first.

"I don't like you flirting with other guys," he repeats, more winded this time.

"You're the only guy I want to flirt with, Jisung."

#nct dream fanfic #nct dream fluff #nct dream angst #nct suggestive #nct fanfic #renjun x reader #mark lee x reader #park jisung x reader #jeno x reader #jaemin x reader #haechan x reader #nct dream reactions #nct reactions #nct dream drabbles #nct drabbles #mia.txt

[lonelywitchv2]

Starboy

WOAH i'm back. unfortunately, i'm not back with what you guys wanted (part 3 of strawberries, i haven't forgotten), but i finally got over my writer's block!!! anyways. here is another Regulus fic <3 and it's based on (you'll literally find half of the lyrics worked into this fic) Stargirl by Lana Del Rey and The Weeknd but i changed the title to starboy because no one actually says stargirl because it doesn't make sense (just like math)!

wc: 884

cw: pure smut, no plot whatsoever, no lead up to the smut, it starts with fucking but does end with fluff(!), choking (i went a bit crazy), some cheesiness (don't laugh, it's supposed to be a kicking-your-feet-and-giggling kind of cheesiness but i don't really write that 😭), overstimulation, this bitch never pulls out but he's wearing an unmentioned condom, cursing (obvi), having sex on the kitchen counters and tbh i was imagining this as being the counters of a kitchen in one of the houses that the Blacks owned (not 12, Grimmauld Place bc it's kinda creepy), um i think that's it.

enjoy!

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

MINORS DNI! 18+ ONLY!

It was then, in the low lighting of the kitchen, that Regulus knew that you were the center of his universe. The moon lit up your face, which was covered in beads of sweat that traveled down your face and dripped from your neck to your exposed breasts.

“Don’t stop, Reg- oh,” A moan interrupted your words, but Regulus understood. He didn’t want to stop, anyway, his own pleasure was overwhelming his body.

He leaned down, mouth attaching to your neck as he sucked a hickey onto the soft, damp skin. You both knew you’d have to cover it up in the morning to avoid questions, but you let him tease you with the occasional soft bite that made your breath catch in your throat. The teasing bites and his deep thrusts had your hands gripping the counter, nails scratching the marble as you uselessly searched for a grip.

One of your hands drifted up towards Regulus’ neck, gently tugging it away from your neck as you brought his face to your own, desperately kissing him, drowning out both of your moans. Subconsciously, you found your hand, which you had yet to move, softly squeezing his neck, grinning into the kiss when you felt his cock twitch inside of you.

“Can’t say I was expecting you to like that so much,” you murmured against his lips, a smirk gracing your features.

“Please….” Regulus whimpered, a sound that seemed to push every ounce of air right out of your lungs.

You removed your second hand from the counter, biting your lip when Regulus’ dick started to slip out of you as you sat up. The sensation of slight emptiness was short-lived, ending when Regulus wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you forward until he was deep inside you, moans escaping from both of you as you arched your back. While Regulus was still weakly recovering, your hand that wasn’t around his neck trailed up his torso, passing his choked neck and up to his face. Your thumb traced his plump, reddened lips before sliding right between them and into his mouth. His eyes raised to meet yours as he hollowed his cheeks and sucked your finger, muffling the groans coming up from his throat.

“I never would’ve thought that Regulus Black, heir to the noble House of Black, would be begging for me to choke him,” you said with a triumphant grin, “how would your ancestors feel if they knew what you were doing right now?”

You both knew the question was rhetorical, especially because Regulus’ brain seemed to have short-circuited to the point where it was unlikely that he would be able to form a full sentence, with all the knowledge that he was known for slipping out of his mind with each thrust into you. You could feel his high approaching, prompting you to remove your finger from his mouth, a small smirk spreading across your face when you saw his jaw go completely slack while moans poured out of his open mouth.

“Come with me,” you whispered in his ear, pulling him close to you and tightening the grip on his neck ever so slightly.

Regulus’ hips stuttered as he came, your high following right after. You dropped your hands onto Regulus’ shoulders and clung to him, nails digging into his pale skin as he kept fucking you through your climax, but still after.

“Fuck, Regulus!” you called out, tears of pleasure spilling out of your eyes at the sensation of your second high hitting you like a freight train. You looked up at Regulus, seeing his dark eyes watery with tears as he came again.

“Holy shit,” Regulus murmured collapsing on top of you as you lowered your body until you were laying flat on the counter, the cool marble a stark contrast from your burning hot, sweaty bodies.

“You did so good, Reg,” you whispered affectionately, looking down at Regulus as you combed your fingers through his hair. He looked as if he was glowing under the moonlight, his pale skin and the droplets of sweat on his body only adding to the effect.

“I love you,” Regulus said into the darkness, listening to your pounding heart as he rested his head on your breasts.

“Do you love me or being choked by me?” you asked teasingly, sitting up on your elbows with Regulus slipping his hands beneath your back to support your body, which was also supporting his.

“Both,” he answered with a grin, pulling you back into a sitting position and kissing you. You wrapped your legs around his waist and grasped at his hair, trying to get as close as possible to Regulus, even though his cock was still resting inside of you.

“And I love you,” you kissed him once more with a quiet giggle, “my starboy.”

“Your starboy?” Regulus asked pulling away from you.

“You’re a star, you’re a boy, and you’re mine. It adds up, love,” you answered, rubbing the nail indents on his shoulders.

“You’re the center of my universe,” Regulus declared.

“Always making it into a competition,” you joked, pulling him close to you and resting your head on his chest, listening to the still slightly erratic beating of his heart, “but you’re still the center of my universe too.”

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

#regulus black x reader #marauders x reader #regulus x reader #marauders fanfiction #regulus black #regulus smut #regulus x reader smut #forgive me for i have sinned by writing this fic

[mono-dot-jpeg]

tank moment - mauga

summary; title slightly irrelevant, i wanted to be funny. iykyk

genre/extra tags; headcanons/bullet fic, i talk about mauga hcs i thought of on the fly, reader is implied to be a support character, reader is also part of talon group, fluff, i only know the bare minimum about him and that's all i need baby, is this platonic or romantic idk

[gender neutral reader] [canon typical violence mentioned]

a/n; im back on my overwatch era. it never really ended but, i want to write about him, mauga, the beloved. typing this on my phone and finishing on my computer if anything seems wonky shhh dont tell me i'll relive that mistake for days

also this is a somewhat lightly reseached- aka not fully accurate/detailed work. i briefly mention samoan culture and if it offends or if it's a mistake, please tell me and i will erase those parts asap.

[support me and buy a kofi]

🗣 ALRIGHT SO ‼️

i've been watching and playing with/against mauga since the trial to play him came out and god i love him

but he's kind of easy to counter (im an ana main, nade is fucking broken but that's just anti heal things) and his ult is annoying

anyways

every tank needs their heal bot to keep em up

you just happen to be mauga's heal bot KDJSJSJ

(baptiste is too probably but not really)

he's a really smug guy

no one really knows that bc he sounds so upbeat and nice

but he loves to tease you, poke at you bc he knows that you will answer to him most of the time and entertain him in conversation

you and him are probably in your world even when you're both in talon tbh

he does his own thing and you just happen to join in

(he totally baits you to join his plans and you both know it)

he's a chaotic and cunning man and you're his enabler

(sounds like me and my bestie tbh)

"a hero would sacrifice you to save the world but a villain would sacrifice the world to save you" type beat

he's lowkey possessive but we dont talk about that

jk we do talk abt it

he's your scary guard dog privileges

like that man is tall tall ‼️‼️

idk why but i dont really imagine him being like an openly sweet person

he keeps it private even with how loud he is

anyways

you know how he's on a yacht for his origin story and there's like a bunch of people who got destroyed by him?

yeah he would totally do that shit for u if you asked.

he would give you the best home but

"thanks for the new place and all but did you have to kill someone for it?"

"i mean come on! this place is nice! let's enjoy it!"

he's very "i'll do the dirty work, just sit back and look pretty." and then you're like, "yeah i could. but i won't."

dps support vibes for you ✨️

but also he's charging in most of the time so, there's not much time to dps support KDHDJDJJD

he's like the kool aid man bursting in through the walls /j

cough

back to the hcs here...

he's so tall and big, he would totally let you hang off his back like nunu and wilump (from league, yeah i play league dont remind me totally gonna write for heartsteel soon tm)

also he's literally the greatest heated blanket (ahead of roadhog)

he's so stronk and wowowowow im so gay i love him

when you're surrounded by some enemies, he's charging in, slamming the ground and carrying you with ease as he keeps you safe while destroying any enemies who even tried to touch you

ugh

despite his lack of pda, he's a very actions over words.

he's so silly

chivalry isn't dead when he breaks into a jewelry store for u 😍😍

if you ever have those crazy thoughts about crime, he's totally gonna enable you and let you reign havoc on god knows what.

love language is actions and gift giving. enough said.

when he gives you a hug, he's so fucking warm omg

i said it before and i'll say it again, he's the best heated blanket, literal furnace

bad for the people who sweat easily though (ahem me lowkey)

one the off-days where it's just a day off and relaxing, he's taking care of you well !!

when you're on talon missions, since he can't run around as easily unless he gets the okay but you do keep him company until then

he likes to protect but he loves destroying people

he knows you're able to care for yourself, so he can go crazy whenever, and he loves that.

he also loves watching you get mad or angrily passionate

"yes go, la'u ma’asoama!" (my rock/stone, get it? bc his name means mountain)

he is a really good hype man. even if you're the one in the wrong.

god I WISH I LOOKED UP MORE ABOUT HIM ARGBHYKFJ

soon (tm)

someday i'll write more.

#overwatch x reader #overwatch 2 x reader #overwatch mauga #mauga x reader #overwatch mauga x reader #overwatch #overwatch 2 #overwatch fluff #overwatch headcanons

[freedomfireflies]

July Fic Recs 🤍

Rabbit Rabbit!! I hope June was a beautiful month for you all! Filled with love, relaxation, and really good stories!!

I feel like this is one of the best places to be on the internet because I always meet so many kind, talented, and insanely creative people! The stories I've gotten to disappear into this month are some of my favs so, without further ado...

~ Not Another Time by @be-with-me-so-happily

Summary: Harry is used to things getting crazy on tour. What he wasn't ready for is how much he misses YN during the Latin American leg of his tour. But at the Rio de Janeiro show, he needs to expect the unexpected.

The sequel to Could We Not, and a beautiful depiction of Harry's love and fear for somebody he loves! It felt so realistic, and I could actually feel Harry's stress while I read 😭💞

~ One More by @harry-on-broadway

"It never failed to surprise you just how well you fit in his arms."

This was so cute, I'm actually still crying??? A sweet blurb about the show before the last show. I wished on every star to be able to crawl into this story and live in it. Sadly, it hasn't worked yet.

~ Been There All Along by @lonelycowgirls

Summary: Where Stella goes to Harry’s last night at Madison Square Garden and gets a call that could change everything.

If really Harry isn't somewhat like this...I'm suing. Honestly

~ Zipper by @1d1195

"Harry was a smart guy, but he truly hadn’t a clue as to why he was so mad at the prospect of liking her."

The cutest, the most beautifully written, the sweetest story IN. THE. WORLD. The title alone deserves every award ever, but the connection to the plot??????? I'm still thinking about it

~ Love Don't Cost A Thing by @justmystyles

Such a beautiful concept!! I like conversations and stories like this because they really do feel so real! It helps really immerse you in the every day life of a relationship with him. And the line, "It's an us thing," LIVES IN MY HEAD RENT FREE!!!

~ Mutually Beneficial by @cherryjuiceblues

Summary: Y/N finds life difficult and Harry just wants to make her feel good.

I mean...we all just want a man that wants to make us feel good as much as this one does...AM I WRONG???

~ Guilty by @jarofstyles

Best Friend's Dad!

Everything they write is perfection and this sexy ass age gap story is no different, I am actually still sweating and convulsing I AM A SIMP

~ I Want Forever by @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite

Summary- Harry and Y/N broke up early into Love On Tour. Harry struggled to truly move on, as did Y/N. With tour over, a lost soul shows up at Y/N’s door one night, ready for forever.

Straight perfection, let's be real! A ring, the final show, AND AN ANGSTY, FLUFFY HARRY?? *chefs kiss*

~ Eros (Cupid) Harry by @0nlythrowharrybeaux

Harry is Eros and he is absolutely smitten with a human.

Listen, he absolutely would be this cute and you BEST BELIEVE I'm so down bad for this man...I literally foam at the mouth when I think about it, AND HE'S FUNNY?? Dead on sight

~ Personal by @shawnxstyles

summary: you and harry are best friends who tell each other everything. or so you thought. when harry finds out you’ve barely done anything sexual, he offers to change that. and then things get a little… personal.

Best friend Harry helping you out. Need I say more?? I NEEDN'T

~ Scared by @adorebeaa

You and Harry have your first argument right before his final show in Italy, about his final show in Italy.

THE CUTEST MOST DEVASTATING ADDITION TO THE FINAL SHOW!!! CRIED FOR HOURS

~ Y/N and Harry are expecting a baby, and they’re both very impatient by @tobesolonely

I mean...delicious honestly 😭 Just...wow

~ Sex Therapist by @tsumtsumrry

in which Harry helps you out a bit, and he’s not actually a sex therapist. (but he might as well be)

I am...scarily attracted to this man. And I am okay with that 😭💞

~ Brother's Best Friend by @helladirections

Summary: Harry is YN’s brother’s best friend and YN isn’t a little kid anymore. Featuring Italrry, teasing, and a sea view. 

He is....so hot. I genuinely have no other words to describe it honestly. It's...it's bad over here for me

~ Complicated Freak by @lukesaprince

Summary: Where you’ve been hooking up with your best friend’s dad and decide to tease him with a tiny bikini.

I think about this man once a week at least...okay fine, once a day. oKAY FINE I THINK ABOUT HIM ALL THE TIME and I'm okay with that

And a shout-out to @londonharry for providing us with all the gifs we've been needing to help us through our depression 🫶 You do the Lord's work, thank you!!

I hope you all find some amazing things to discover!! Cannot wait to see you again next month!! 💞

Previous Recs:

~ Fic Rec Number 1

~ Fic Rec Number 2

~ Fic Rec Number 3

#harry #harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles fan #harry styles fic rec #fic rec #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction

[drewmorg4n]

Perhaps a soft and somewhat smutty transmasc insert x negan fic where he’s heavily focused on the readers surgery scars, just tracing them with his fingers and kissing them cause I just know that man has a scar kink

(Also this is just a fully self indulgent req)

Glass Scars

pairing: negan smith x trans male reader

wc: 4,621

tags: smut, fluff but it’s negan so you know, scar kink, oral (reader receiving), only masculine terms used

an: (this is such a basic fic title but my mind blanked out and i couldn’t come up with anything else) i know this literally took forever for me to finish but i think it’s worth it? maybe? idk but i really enjoyed writing this and i hope you enjoy reading :)

dni: cis/fem people…it’s self explanatory

(i tried to add in a really sexy gif here but i’m stupid and it didn’t work so </3)

“Jesus christ, that was a fucking shit show.” Negan exhales heavily. He’s currently hunched over, hands on his knees, completely out of breath.

After running into a small horde of walkers, you and Negan had to basically fight your way through them. There was nowhere to simply stay put and wait it out as they came at you from all directions and quickly boxed you in. Honestly, you were sure you were about to kick the bucket right then and there, but luckily Negan kept an eye on you and stepped in to help you as needed. You truly don’t know what you would do without that man. Die, probably.

“Yeah.” You agree softly, panting. Your pants and tee are basically drenched in blood and some small bits of guts, sticking uncomfortably to your skin. You have to stop yourself from gagging a few times as the smell of it all finally hits you. “We’re going back, right? I really need a shower.” You mention tersely, grimacing at your current state.

Negan sighs. “Fuck, babe. C’mon, you look so hot covered in blood.” He exasperates, slowly striding over to you and enveloping you by your waist, gently pulling you close.

You roll your eyes, though the small smirk attempting to cross your lips eventually betrays you. “Negan, please. This shit smells awful and feels disgusting.” You whine softly, starting to pull out of Negan’s grip even though you really don’t want to.

Negan kisses your cheek before you get too far away from him, his lips tinted red after. “Well, I think we’ve gathered enough supplies.” He mentions, glancing at the few duffel bags that you’d both dropped when the horde approached. “Yeah, let’s go back. This shit does feel fuckin’ disgusting.” He agrees, his form suddenly stiff and uncomfortable.

You nod in response, feeling relieved about Negan’s decision. After tucking away your knife and checking yourself over - making sure you didn’t drop anything - you make your way over to the bags and haul one up, resting heavily on your shoulder. As you move to grab another, Negan moves in the corner of your eye, catching your attention. You glance over and watch him for a moment; he slowly peels off his leather jacket, seemingly in a bit of pain. His white tee underneath is damp with blood, the fabric clinging to his skin. He may be in pain but he also looks extremely attractive like this. You can’t help the way your eyes skim up and down his upper body, taking notice of his hard nipples protruding his tee.

Just as he turns his head to look at you, you also turn, attention back on the bags. You repeat your previous movement with another bag, though luckily this one is a bit lighter. Still, the strain of them on each of your shoulders is definitely gonna hit you later.

As you try to make the weight as bearable as you can, Negan comes over and gathers the rest of the bags; three in total. Negan then leads the way, walking a short distance back to the truck. It was honestly a stupid idea to leave it, but the spot you guys were trying to get to wasn’t accessible by the road as it had been blocked off, which really left no other choice but to walk. You definitely wouldn’t be coming this way again without a few more men.

Just a few minutes later you’re piling the bags into the bed of the truck and soon after making yourself comfortable in the passenger seat. The drive back to the sanctuary shouldn’t take too long, but things aren’t always set in stone out here. You guys could stumble upon another horde or maybe even some people. All you can do is just sit back and wait.

You drift in and out of sleep throughout the whole ride, Negan’s hand a comforting warmth on your thigh. He laughs at you every time your head bobs forward, on the brink of sleep. You only have enough energy to groan softly, exhausted from your previous exertion.

Eventually you’re home, parked in the small parking lot beside the sanctuary. Negan squeezes your thigh a few times, getting your attention. “C’mon.” He says, nodding his head in the direction of the building. “Let’s get cleaned up, hm?” He offers softly, though his voice is deep and husky.

“Mhm.” You hum slowly, still half asleep and feeling very groggy. You manage to get out and step onto the gravel, hearing it crunch beneath your boots. The sound brings a wave of comfort over you, knowing that just an hour ago you were on the verge of death. The slam of Negan’s door rattles you from your thoughts, bringing you back to reality. You take a moment to gather your bearings and close your door, then you slowly make your way to the back of the truck towards Negan.

“I told the guys to get the shit in the back. I’m dying for a shower.” He sighs dramatically, waiting until you’re close enough so he can take your hand in his. He then leads the way, entering through one of the side doors and ascending a few flights of stairs before stopping at the third floor.

He trails down the long hallway, stopping at the door to his room. He lets go of your hand and enters his room, immediately chucking his shirt off and tossing it to the floor. You stand in the doorway for a moment, just watching him. He’s absolutely ridiculous but you love it.

Following him inside, you close the door behind you and lock it as usual. When you turn back around the only piece of clothing left on Negan is his boxers, which happen to also have a few spots of blood on them, probably from the thick liquid seeping through his pants. Lastly, he removes his boxers, sighing in relief.

You’ve seen Negan naked hundreds of times now but each time always feels like the first, sending a shock up your spine and a shiver throughout your entire body. He’s just so alluring and gorgeous, no matter how many times you’ve seen his body; he’s perfect.

You eventually begin to follow Negan’s lead, undressing. You move extremely slow as you’re still very exhausted, but Negan seems to notice this and is quick to step in and help. He unbuckles your belt and unzips your pants, undoing the button and letting your jeans fall down your legs. You hold onto his shoulder as you step out of them and kick them aside. The same movement is done when removing your boxers.

Negan’s hands are on your waist in an instant, skimming them up and down your sides, lightly scratching his nails against your skin. You have to bite back a moan, though it’s not from arousal; Negan’s hands just feel incredibly good and cause you to become even more tired.

“C’mon. I’m gonna fall asleep if we don’t shower soon.” You warn slowly, smiling softly as your eyes begin to close unwillingly.

Negan chuckles deeply, the sound rumbling in his throat. “Alright, alright.” He concedes, his hands coming to a halt. “I just love touching you.” He whispers, lips gracing the shell of your ear. He then plants a few gentle kisses along your neck, ending with a quick nip.

“Yeah, well, you can do that in the shower, y’know.” You point out teasingly, earning another chuckle from Negan.

“You fuckin’ bet I will.” He growls lowly, leaning in for one last nip to your neck.

From there, he finally obeys and leads you to the bathroom, quickly turning on the shower. You both idle for a minute or two as the water begins to warm up, eventually shivering a bit from the cool air touching your skin.

Negan steps in the shower a moment later, pulling you along. The warm water rains down on your head, running down your body and effectively warming you. Before you know it Negan’s massaging shampoo into your hair, the sudden touch startling you a bit. You quickly relax into it, though, tilting your head back and closing your eyes.

A good minute of massaging and Negan’s maneuvering you around the shower, letting the spray of water hit you directly. He gently rinses out the shampoo, placing a kiss to your temple afterwards.

“Thank you.” You say softly, warming even more at Negan’s lips against you. “Let me do you, too.” You offer, moving to reach for the bottle of shampoo and pouring some out onto your hand. After lathering up your hands you reach up and run your fingers through Negan’s hair. He smiles at the feeling, dipping his head down a bit so it’s less of a reach for you.

Once his hair has been thoroughly washed, you help him rinse out the shampoo, wiping away any suds that get too close to his eyes. You give him a quick, chaste kiss after, amused when he furrows his brows and pleads with his eyes for more.

“Later.” You counter, though you’re not even sure if you’ll be awake later. With the way you feel currently, you assume you won’t be, but who knows.

“Why do you always play hard to get?” He chides lowly, swooping in close and wrapping his arms around your waist.

You roll your eyes, offering a soft smile. “Negan, we’re both covered in blood and I’m fucking exhausted. I just wanna shower in peace.” You explain a bit firmly, though the smile covering your lips has yet to drop.

“Well, I can surely be of service.” He assures with a wink, immediately moving to grab your washcloth. After rinsing it out he grabs the bar of soap and lathers up the cloth. He then starts cleaning you up, rubbing the cloth against your skin to get rid of the dry bits of blood. Continuing on, he does the rest of your upper body and then your lower, humming pleasantly once he’s done and sees that you’re clean.

After he rinses out the washcloth and hangs it back up, he again grabs the bar of soap and lathers his hands this time. While you watch him, you immediately know what he’s about to do.

Negan settles himself behind you and slips a hand around your waist, resting gently against your lower stomach. His other hand follows but rests on your groin, soon moving down and slipping your cock between his fingers. The motion makes you gasp, feeling arousal start to build in your gut. When his fingers move down just a bit then back up, you can’t help the moan that slips past your lips.

You honestly thought you were way too tired to get worked up, but clearly you were very wrong about that. You know Negan is still just cleaning you up, but of course his movements are painfully slow - most likely on purpose - which isn’t helping your increasing arousal.

Eventually his movement concludes, removing his hand. You sigh at the lack of touch, somewhat wishing Negan would put his hand back even though you’re still exhausted.

You take a moment to gather yourself before you copy Negan’s actions, offering to wash him off. He lets you do as you please, ridding his body of sticky blood. When your eyes manage to drift down, you’re sort of surprised he’s not hard. With the way he was touching you, you fully expected him to be.

As you finish up, Negan’s hands rest on your chest, trailing down and stopping right above your diaphragm. “Couldn’t see your scars when you were covered in blood.” He comments softly, eyeing your chest. His thumbs glide along them, from edge to edge.

You’re quiet for a long moment, unsure of what to even say to such a comment. His thumbs continue to trace your scars, side to side. “That feels good.” You say, lifting your head to look up at him. He looks totally entranced, eyes following the movement of one of his thumbs.

“Do you know how much I truly adore your scars?” He asks gently, eyes unmoving from your chest.

“Well, I could guess.” You chuckle softly. A smirk creeps onto Negan’s face in return, eyes finally looking up to meet your own. He dips his head down and places kiss after kiss along your neck, trailing them down to your collarbone; each kiss elicits a warm flush throughout your entire body.

Eventually, you completely lose track of time, though; the water runs colder and colder and soon you’re almost shivering.

“Negan, c’mon. We used all the hot water.” You note, slowly pulling yourself out of his grasp. He practically whines at the movement, hands moving quickly to pull you back into him, though you refuse and step back, turning off the water. “I’m freezing.” You grunt softly, looking up at him with annoyance.

“You know I’m a fuckin’ human furnace, babe.” He winks, his usual sly smirk covering his lips. He moves to push aside the shower curtain, stepping out after. He grabs one of the towels set on the counter and unfolds it, holding it up in front of him. “C’mere, let me warm you up.” He offers, softer than before.

You reluctantly step out, quickly wrapped up in the towel with firm, warm arms surrounding you. Negan first dries off your hair, ruffling it with the towel until it’s just damp, then moves onto your body. He’s quick but gentle, working up then down, making sure you’re all dry. Now, without cold droplets of water covering your skin, you’re much warmer but you still feel a deep need for actual heat.

Right as you’re about to head out of the bathroom, aiming to find something warm to wear, Negan stops you with a gentle grip on your forearm.

“Wait. Don’t get dressed.” He requests quickly, loosening his grip on your arm.

You furrow your brows. “Why?” You question curiously, confused.

Negan doesn’t respond for a moment which just manages to confuse you even more, but the light pink blush tinting his cheeks distracts you until he does. “I just like seeing you; your scars, the rest of your body. I love it.” He admits softly, his voice trailing off into a whisper. His cheeks are now red rather than pink, which tells you he was probably nervous to confess such a thing.

Negan’s statement has you at a loss for words, though. Of course he’s not necessarily the softest person, he’s always sarcastic and vulgar, causing him to usually say all the wrong things, but throughout the time you’ve been together, his soft side peeks out more and more each day.

“Oh.” You sigh, trying to muster up the right words to say. “Thank you. I-I-“ You stutter, quickly stopping yourself from continuing. You can’t believe the second you’re vulnerable you immediately start stuttering. Although it’s somewhat expected, it doesn’t make it any less embarrassing.

Negan smiles, holding back a soft chuckle. “It’s alright, baby.” He assures, noticing the nervous expression etched onto your face and wanting to bring you some comfort. “I’m gonna dry off. Just go wait for me.” He nods, quickly kissing your cheek.

You give him a soft smile and then you’re turning around, heading out of the bathroom once again. You end up following through with Negan’s request, ditching your clothes completely. You’re not even that cold anymore, the embarrassment and slightest bit of adrenaline warming you. Once you slide onto the bed, making yourself comfortable on top of the silk sheets, you finally relax. After today, you definitely need a break from beyond the walls. Knowing Negan, he’ll probably be hesitant to let you out again unless he’s by your side, but you’ll worry about that when it happens. For now, you let your limbs go limp and sink into the soft mattress as you wait for Negan.

A few short minutes later the bathroom door squeaks open, revealing a naked Negan. He wastes no time getting into bed; he pushes apart your legs and settles himself between them, his chest against your stomach. He really is a human furnace.

Soon enough you feel his lips against you, kissing up and down your chest, your nipples, your scars. He hums contentedly as he kisses along each scar, from one edge to the other; he doesn’t miss a single spot.

You work your hands into his hair, combing it back as he continues his relentless kissing. After a few minutes, you realize you could definitely fall asleep like this; Negan’s lips grazing your chest. You’re already exhausted, so why not? You let yourself slowly drift off, eyes feeling heavier and heavier as each second passes.

“You’re so perfect, baby. So handsome.” Negan mumbles deeply, his throat and lips vibrating against you.

His soft words cause your eyes to pop open, feeling overwhelmed with affection and love. You somehow still haven’t gotten used to Negan’s praises; each time he says something even remotely good about you, your stomach flips and twists with the strongest feeling of appreciation. You’ve never felt so loved in your entire life.

“Kiss me.” You plead softly, almost whispering. He makes a noise similar to a hum but doesn’t stop what he’s doing. You pull on his hair gently but he resists, ignoring it and continuing his kisses along your chest. “Negan, please.” You groan, tugging on his hair again, though a bit harder this time.

He releases a throaty moan at the harsh pull of his hair, finally relenting and moving up your body, coming face to face with you. His usual sly grin is smeared across his lips, cockiness clearly flowing through him as he idles in front of your face, not making any attempts at moving closer and kissing you.

Feeling annoyed, you hurriedly grab the nape of his neck and pull him close, crashing your lips together. He chuckles at your gesture and struggles to kiss you back for a moment, but rather quickly he settles down and starts moving his lips against your own.

The movement of your lips started off fast but is beginning to slow and match Negan’s pace, which you really don’t mind. As long as you’re kissing him you have nothing to complain about.

Negan’s tongue dips into your mouth slowly, licking past your lips and grazing your teeth with his tongue. The moan that slips out of you is purely accidental but Negan certainly finds the noise pleasurable as his lips curl up into a small smirk.

His hands then skim up your body, stopping below your pecs. Once again he begins to smooth over your scars, each of his thumbs moving back and forth. You have no clue why he seems to be so obsessed with them, but it’s honestly a very relieving feeling knowing that your scars don’t bother him.

Suddenly Negan bites your lip, not hard but the gesture somewhat surprises you. As you relax into it, it feels good, almost intoxicating. Again you moan, wishing he would bite just a little bit harder. As if Negan is capable of reading your mind, he bites down harder a short moment later, eliciting yet another moan from you.

Fuck, his teeth feel so good latched onto your bottom lip, worrying it between his teeth. The sensation of it is almost overwhelming. An immeasurable amount of pressure and heat builds within your groin, quickly becoming unbearable. You grind your hips up, coming into contact with Negan’s cock, his warmth pressed against you lightly.

“Please.” You ground out after pulling out of the kiss, panting. Honestly, you’re not even sure what you’re begging for at this point, you just want to be pleasured, touched. Anything.

Negan hums lowly, smirking as usual. “What do you want? Hm?” He inquires deep but soft. He begins placing kisses to your neck and slowly trails them down to your nipples, kissing each one wetly as his thumbs continue to caress your scars. “What does my pretty boy want?” He murmurs into your skin, his lips vibrating against you softly.

Unwillingly, your hips buck, connecting with Negan’s lower chest. He chuckles against you, lips around one of your nipples. You open your mouth to speak but find that you simply can’t. Instead of words coming out of your mouth, a loud moan slips past your lips. Without even thinking you grab Negan's hair, both hands twined into bundles of strands. You pull up, even though that’s not the direction you want him to go in, you just desperately need to tug on something.

Negan groans softly at the pull of his hair, humming lowly after. Before he kisses down the rest of your torso, his tongue darts out and ever so slowly licks across each of your scars, making you shiver.

“Jesus.” You gasp softly, a bit shocked. Negan must really have a thing for scars. Either way, his tongue feels good on you, tracing side to side.

Once he seems to have his fill of your scars, he kisses down your stomach all the way to your groin. You whine as you feel his lips getting closer and closer to such a sensitive area, resisting the urge to roll your hips. He places feather light kisses to the inside of your thigh, trailing them up and down. He’s kissing everywhere you don’t want him to; not that it doesn’t feel good but you’re so pent up with arousal that it’s starting to hurt.

Tightening your grip on his hair, you quickly tug, his head now hovering right above your cock. His eyes flick up to yours, dark and teasing, his usual sly smirk covering his lips.

“Are you gonna tell me what you want now?” Negan asks lowly, feigning curiosity. “Cause I’ve got no fuckin’ clue.” He chuckles soft and deep, resuming his kisses; he’s so full of shit it’s painful.

Negan’s lips are now incredibly close to your dick and you want nothing more than for him to finally put his mouth to work on you. When his kissing doesn’t stop, you finally obey and voice your needs.

“Suck me off.” You whine softly, voice barely reaching a whisper. Your hips roll involuntarily, crotch brushing against Negan’s scruffy chin. Even that slightest bit of friction has you moaning again, just hoping Negan will put a stop to his teasing and finally give you what you want.

Negan laughs darkly, eyes half lidded as he looks up at you. His tongue darts out and skims across his lips, biting it softly as he slowly puts it back in his mouth. “I can’t decide if I should make you beg for it or not.” He teases, smirk never faltering. His fingers rub along your hip, digging in just slightly.

You tighten your hand in Negan’s hair, pulling on it. “Please.” You whimper softly, desperation filling your voice.

Your begging causes Negan’s smirk to grow even wider, his teeth gleaming at you. He’s clearly enjoying this but you’re not sure how much more you can take. You’re so pent up with sexual desire it’s unfathomable.

Negan then begins to plant kiss after kiss to your groin, leading down to your sensitive cock. The second his lips come into contact with your dick you can’t help but buck your hips. Negan’s fingers are quick to dig into your hips and hold you down, though his kissing never stops.

The slight sting coming from Negan’s nails digging into you isn’t unpleasant, it’s actually extremely endearing and only turns you on even more. You’re quickly pulled from the sensation by Negan’s tongue gliding along your cock. You almost scream at how good it feels, though it’s more of a choked moan which is honestly a little embarrassing.

Your embarrassment is very quickly disregarded once Negan’s lips close around you, gently sucking what he can into his mouth. Your grip on Negan’s hair tightens immensely, fearing you may rip out chunks of it, though you know he really wouldn’t mind which would definitely be comical in another situation.

Negan continues his gentle sucking, slightly bobbing his head. You’re still rolling your hips though there’s not a lot of movement since Negan is keeping you in a steady hold.

After about a minute or so, Negan begins to suck harder along with digging his nails deeper into your hip. Both sensations mixed together have you going crazy, heading towards the edge. Whimpers begin to flood your mouth, dripping out like liquid. You simply can’t stop yourself, nor do you want to. Your own moans almost accentuate your pleasure, which is odd but you’ll gladly take it.

Negan then hums while he continues his incessant sucking - almost as if he’s also moaning - sending ripples of vibration through your groin, intensifying your pleasure even more.

“Jesus christ, Negan.” You pant, arching your back off the bed completely. You can feel the way your legs are trembling, indicating your climax is approaching. Practically your entire body is covered in a layer of sweat, droplets running down your face and chest. You’re about to burst at any moment.

You can’t even control the movement of your hips, it simply has a mind of its own, bucking hard and fast into Negan’s mouth, though he’s still holding you down as best as he can. Eventually, though, he relents and let’s go, giving you free range. Holding onto the back of his head, you fuck into his mouth repeatedly.

He’s happy to let you use him until you finally come, hips stuttering and shaking as you continue to roll them. It’s such an intense, overstimulating feeling, but at the same time it feels like pure heaven.

Your whimpering only gets louder and louder as you ride out your orgasm, body trembling with pleasure. “Fuck.” You whine, voice hoarse and wavering.

Negan chuckles, which sends another vibration through you. It’s too much, though. You’re officially overstimulated. You yank Negan’s head off of you by his hair, freeing yourself from his mouth.

“Shit.” You pant, feeling the aftershocks of your orgasm roll through you. Negan looks up at you with half lidded eyes, smiling softly. There’s a single string of saliva leading from his lips to your dick, which elicits a small chuckle from your throat. Using your thumb, you gently wipe it away.

“Thanks.” Negan chuckles, resting his head on your lower stomach.

“Mhm.” You hum in response, smiling. “C’mere, let me return the favor.” You decide, smoothing your hands along his upper back.

Negan yawns. “I already came.” He states, looking back up at you. “You’re just so fuckin’ sexy when your cock is in my mouth, making all those pretty noises. Only had to grind against the bed for like, two fuckin’ seconds before I came.” He explains easily, feeling his cock twitch as he thinks about the noises you were making.

“Oh.” You mumble softly, extremely flustered from Negan’s admission. “So, you ruined the sheets?” You question, yanking his chain.

Negan huffs a laugh. “Probably.” He agrees, chuckling. He slowly crawls up your body and places a gentle kiss to your lips before laying down beside you. He’s quick to pull you into his side, arms wrapped around you.

You sigh and relax into his hold, resting your head atop his chest; the hair there manages to tickle your nose every now and then, but you really don’t mind - you wouldn’t change it.

As you listen to the sound of Negan’s heartbeat, you quickly find yourself drifting off into sleep, body and mind completely exhausted. You refuse to fight it and eventually you slip into a deep sleep, cradled by the only man you’ve ever wanted.

#negan smith #negan #negan twd #negan smith fic #negan fic #negan smith x reader #negan smith x male reader #negan smith x trans male reader #negan x reader #negan x male reader #negan x trans male reader #the walking dead #twd #the walking dead fic #twd fic #my fic

[apprenticestanheight]

kindly asking for hoffman taking care of a sick s/o (but also not opposed to the same prompt for amanda,,)

Hoffman and Amanda taking care of a sick s/o headcanons

Okay!! This is coming out literal months after it was sent into my inbox and for that, I apologize! I am notoriously terrible at time management and I will procrastinate as much as the day is long.

Procrastination in accompaniment with a couple of personal issues and mountains of demotivation and anxiety as tall as mount everest are not the best cocktail and again, I am very sorry for how long this has taken!

I do have it titled in a way that might be a little confusing but, just to clarify, I did do headcanons and I did two separate sets rolled up into one fic just so that I could make it a little easier on myself because I could not, for the life of me, choose between hoffman and amanda for this. I don't write enough for either of them so this is kind of how I'm compensating for that lol

Fic type - this is very fluffy!

Warnings - the reader has a sinus infection/cold, so there's likely to be symptoms of that discussed, plus mentions of medication

oooookay!! To start, we're gonna go with Hoffman!

You wake up sick one random morning at the beginning of February and Mark is immediately like "oh NO, did I give them the sinus cold that's been going around work?" bc he had it like,, two or so weeks beforehand

and when you say good morning in a way that tells mark you're groggy but also sick, he calls in sick from work on your behalf and then calls the precinct to waste a few sick days to take care of you

After he's called in sick from work, he kisses your forehead both because he wants to and also to check for a fever. He finds that you're burning up, which is a bit of a surprise given the fact that, the minute Mark had adjusted, you'd practically stolen all of the blankets from him.

So, he kisses you on the forehead again and then leaves your apartment to grab the essentials: ibuprofen for the inevitable headache, a combination pack Nyquil and Dayquil to ease the fever and also help you function like a person during the day and get some sleep at night.

He also grabs chicken noodle soup and bread for toast, plus a few of your favorite snacks.

When he gets back home, he tosses one of his older NJPD sweaters into the dryer so that it comes out warm once the fever has broken, finds you in your bed with nothing but a stolen pair of Marks boxers and one of his button ups to act as clothes. A thick blanket covers your legs entirely and you've sat up in the bed, clearly trying to will yourself to function like you would if you weren't sick.

Mark is at your side relatively quickly with a Dayquil and bottle of gatorade in hand, kissing your forehead as you take the pills and thank him for running the errand.

Generally, Mark is absolutely the type of guy who just wants to make sure you have the time to rest. He takes care of the house work, makes sure that the windows are open so that you're still getting fresh air but aren't practically drowning in the wintery cold, does everything he can to make sure you're resting well.

that also means he's with you lots of the time--he'll lay down with you in bed for as long as you want, happy to kiss the top of your head and act as your anchor when a migraine sets in.

It also means kisses after you've taken your meds--you'll pop a Dayquil, sip some gatorade, and Mark will kiss your forehead or your cheek and then say nothing when you fall asleep against his shoulder twenty minutes later

he's generally very sweet and absolutely one hell of a guy to have around when you have a cold

okay! It's Mandys turn

Amanda is super clingy and has herself a few connections, so when she finds out you have a cold she uses those connections.

the biggest connection that she has is lawrence (I am firmly of the belief that they had a sibling dynamic and also that they were both only children) and she uses it the second you're asleep while sinus-infected and bedridden

she calls him up like "hi. my partner has a cold. I need a prescription for the best cold meds you have or at least a bit of advice please and thanks."

so, Lawrence kind of like,, he gives her the play-by-play, right? He tells her what over-the-counter meds work the best and gives her advice on how to help you

she follows it bc she wants you to get better. She gets you the good stuff and benadryl, which has the tendency to knock a person out as it were and the night-time cold meds were out of stock at the pharmacy she went to.

She even goes to walmart and gets you a heated blanket. she is the fuckin--she loves you so much that she's willing to spend the 2001 equivalent of modern-day $20 for one of the decent ones.

And then she gets home and kisses you on the cheek bc emotional support, and you thank her while she sets up the heated blanket

generally, Amanda is like--she's on top of your care. She makes sure you're always comfortable, bribes you with kisses to get you to take the buckleys or whatever it is that she finds when she checks another pharamacy after a bit of apprenticing one day

you also sleep a lot, and Amanda pretty much acts as your body pillow??

the minute you're tiredly pressing your face against her shoulder, she's just kind of happy to let you sleep as you please because she wants you to get better

generally, she's very attentive and is quick to get you what you need when you need it.

#mark hoffman x reader #amanda young x reader #mark hoffman #amanda young #saw 2004 #saw franchise

[suzukiblu]

WIP Wednesday Game

Taken from @kedreeva.

It’s WIP Wednesday, time for a little accountability, sharing your work, and getting a kick in the pants.

Here’s how it works:

In a reblog of this post (so people can find you in the notes) or new thread (w/ rules attached) if you want to play on your own, post up to five (5) filenames of your WIPs; not titles, file names.

Post a snippet from one of them. Snippet must be words you wrote in the last 7 days. We’re posting progress here. If you haven’t made any, go make some and come back to play!

After you’ve posted, people can send you an ask with one of your file names. You must then write 3 sentences in that file. If the filename is one you can't share from (for example, an event or gift fic), write 3 sentences on it anyway, and then 3 more on another to share.

That’s it! You can invite others to join in, or just post. I’ll be searching the reblogs to find people to send asks to!

If you’re reading this, you’re invited!

If you see someone posting a WIP Wednesday Game snippet, send them an ask! Make them write.

file names:

Kon is too trans for this pregnancy shit

the one where Clark is trans and Kon is not

transfemme Kon and her Amazon soulmoms

Cassie has a sexuality crisis, Kon has a gender one, and Circe makes everything worse

the one where Kryptonians have omegaverse genders, but nobody told Match

( why yes this week is WIP Wednesday: Sex And Gender Is Weird And Complicated Edition™ )

snippet from "Kon is too trans for this pregnancy shit":

Kon slams his bedroom door just shy of hard enough to crack the doorframe, melts the pregnancy test in his hand into slag with his heat vision, and then throws its remnants into his trash can and hides in his bed. Because he’s pregnant. Because he’s an idiot. An idiot who is pregnant. Pregnantly. 

Fucking Christ alive, how could he be this fucking stupid?! 

Just–Kon has fucked up a whole lot of times in his life. This time is probably the worst time that didn't get somebody else hurt, though. Well, like. Not hurt-hurt. 

Somebody is definitely getting hurt here. 

Kon kind of just . . . doesn't tell people that he's . . . that he isn't technically . . . 

He flirts? A lot? Like, a lot more than he really should. But he flirts with girls a lot. And he is very, very careful about how close he lets those girls get. And he . . . and he . . . 

Just–when he actually wants laid, when he really gets the itch, he doesn't go out as Superboy.

There's a reason he never got anywhere with Cassie, after all. Or with Tana or Knockout. Or with . . . anyone he ever actually, like . . . gave an actual fuck about the opinion of or was gonna see again. 

He’s not a real guy, after all, so . . . so how could he have? He’s not . . . 

When Cadmus was still a thing, he didn't have to worry so much. It wasn't hard to get treatment and whatever, and his files were all very firmly locked down. And when Cadmus went underground, Serling deleted all those files and hooked him up with a little machine that replicates hybrid-appropriate T before she cleared out, because Serling is the fucking best like that and literally the one true ally, as far as Kon's concerned, so . . . yeah. And the replicator has mercifully kept working for him, at least so far, so all he's ever had to do was hide the thing in the back of his closet and make sure the Kents never catch him pulling any of the blue K needles out of their little lead-lined case or injecting himself with said needles. Fuck knows what they'd think if they ever did. 

Probably that he was a drug addict or something. That seems like the most logical conclusion for them to jump to. They sure as shit know he's not diabetic or anything like that, so . . . yeah. 

They'd definitely think he was a drug addict. 

He's sure Clark would, if nothing else. 

Although that'd probably be less of a disaster than this, really. At least if he was an addict, he could go to rehab or something. For this . . . 

What is he supposed to do about this?

#meme #wip wednesday #omegaverse #wip: kon is too trans for this pregnancy shit #long post

[etoilesombre]

Fic Master List

I got tired of having to decide which fic post to keep pinned, so I made this. Proper summaries, tags and warnings all on AO3.

Black Sails

Another Way - Silverflint, E, 29,399 words, complete. Dubcon! But in a very old-school fanfic trope fuck or die way. It diverges from the scene where they get captured taking the warship. They do work through everything in the aftermath, and the end is very sweet actually.

By Faith of my Body - Silverflintmadi in various combinations, but emphasis on the flintmadi relationship. E, Chapter 1/4 posted. Flint and Madi bond over books, the weight of leadership, and being in love with John Silver. FealtySub!Flint, shameless use of literature for my own nefarious purposes, and so much pining.

Another Troy to Burn - Series. Silverflint longfic series, my special precious baby and literally the first thing I ever wrote. It's canon where they're fucking the whole time but it doesn't change anything. There is a moodboard (thanks @jaynovz) and also a playlist.

A Composite Unity - E, 20,366 words, complete. The first two seasons, Flint pov. He is not having a great time.

The Salt and the Sea - E, 60,495 words, complete. Set during the season 2-3 break, how Silver decided to stay and what happened with the gold. He is also not having a great time.

It Only Made Me Real- E, chapters 4/? posted. Silver adjusting to his role as quartermaster, Flint being Flint during the raids. I swear upon everything holy that I WILL finish this series if its the last thing I do, but, it has been on hiatus for a while.

If It Was You - Silverflint, E, 17,430 words, complete. Free use gangbang porn that got out of control and also grew a lot of feelings. The boys spend the night in port on a mission. There is only one bed. Flint freaks out and makes questionable choices, Silver walks in on the whole thing, they have to work through it. Cathartic happy ending. The very Most dirty talk.

I'll Carry You Home Tonight - Silverflint, E, 6,604 words, complete. This one is just porn. Season 3-4 break, the guys are newly in a relationship, they get Pirate Date Night. It's working title was 'impact play and 5 phases of ass stuff'.

long as amber of ember glows - Silverflint, E, 7,933 words, complete. If 3.10 ended the way it should have. There are love confessions, and they fuck on the gold. No literally, on it. It's very sweet honestly.

Our Feast is But Beginning - Series. Silverflint Cookingverse! Flint teaches Silver to cook.

Spit-Roasted - M, 5,821 words, complete. The one where Flint shows Silver how to roast a pig. It's canon! Flint is very weird about sex.

Gentille Alouette - E, 11,618 words, complete. Late night cooking dates on the Walrus, continuing intense sexual tension, Flint is basically edging himself. He sure is a way.

Princes of the New World - E, 38,145 words, complete. This one got a little out of hand, it has many things in it, including lots of hurt comfort and caretaking, the guys finally getting together and also not hiding their relationship, some intense gender vibes (Silver gets to be a pampered pretty princess) and yes, even some cooking.

Our Shadows That Are Bold - Silverflint, E, 4,912 words, complete. Dom Silver. The first little iteration of fealty sub Flint, he sure has some feelings about Silver coming into his own as king.

So We Begin - Silverflint, E, 4,038 words, complete. 3.7 missing scene fic that is exactly what you would expect after stomp stomp and the "how good it feels" conversation.

The Soft Animal of Your Body - Silverflint, E, 3,398 words, complete. The watersports one. Yep sure is, omorashi style, with a good side of hurt comfort stuff and also Flint telling a weird dirty story. Set during warship recovery time. This is basically an outtake of longfic because it doesn't quite work there but wouldn't leave my brain.

the sound that you found for me - T, background silverflintmadi, but its really about Silver and Betsy the cat. Yep. 5,699 words, complete. Kittenfic!! Written for the Beach Blanket Black Sails Ficfest, the prompt was 'Betsy has kittens and Silver wants to keep them on Maroon Island.' It's really about Silver and trauma and there are sad parts but nothing bad happens to any cats and there is a happy ending.

stitched with its color - G, silverflintmadi sort of, 1,344 words, complete. The conversation where Madi tells Flint that Silver is alive.

Such Terrible Hungers - E, Flintvane, 3,357 words, complete. Instead of fuck buddies, they're fuck enemies. Fight sex and Flint angst, that's basically the fic.

to pull me from myself again - E, Silverflint, 7,419 words, complete. Written in response to a Tumblr prompt asking for s1 dynamics softe silverflint, Silver's first time with a man. That is indeed it, that's the fic

What Lies Beneath - E, Silverflint, 3 chapters, complete. 11,031 words. Demon Flint AU! Basically make the demon in Flint literal. Silver is fascinated of course.

The Fetch Phillips Archives (aka Luke Arnold's books, go read them!)

announcing your place in the family of things - E, Fetch/Satyr, 6,865 words, complete. The first creature Fetch meets when he leaves the human city is that unnamed Satyr, and that feels like a conscious choice to me. Coulda said 'faun' and we wouldn't be here Luke. Anyway monsterfucking, but in a lovely way.

The Exorcist (tv)

The Smoke of Their Torment - M, Marcus/Tomas, 572 words, complete. A snippet of Marcus angst and pining and also jerking off in a shared hotel room there may be more someday.

#for a long time i kept whatever was most recent or relevant pinned #but now i realized how much there is #so #here's the masterlist #fanfic #my writing #silverflint #black sails #fetch phillip archives #sunderverse #the exorcist tv

[someonexsomeone]

Love to Keep Me Warm

Title: Love to Keep Me Warm

Author: SomeonexSomeone

Word Count: 1.8k

Pairing: Harry Potter x Slytherin!Reader

Summary: Harry has learned to keep secrets from his best friend, but it helps when his best friend is a dense as a pile of rocks.

Authors Note: Day 3!...Week...3? Anyway, this fic was kinda heavily inspired by Lily's Boy by SomewheresSword on ao3. I literally devoured it in like a week, it was so good. I hate JK with a passion, but her characters are so yummy. Shorter this time, but I hope you guys like it all the same!

Love him to death, but there was only so much Ronald Weasley Harry could put up with. His best friend, to be fair, was a teenage boy with about 8 times the usual amount of sibling jealousy coursing through his veins which made him act irrationally more times than not. And, no doubt being best friends with the Boy Who Lived, the Chosen One, the Savior of the World, the Boy With the Scar - you get the picture - made those jealous spikes just a tad worse, especially now that his Mum saw Harry as one of her own children. So, Harry being the good friend he was, something he said to himself to justify his action, tried his best to be on his good side, sometimes bending to his will more than a standard friend would. Hermione, for instance, never made him feel like he couldn’t spend his money on an expensive new pair of Quidditch gloves, or a Wireless to keep up with the news. A glare, maybe, if the purchase was a little reckless, but that was her just looking out for him. Ron on the other hand…

Harry knew it was selfish, to want to spend the money he had on anything he wanted, but having grown up with nothing to his name, objects found themselves being a nice, new addition to his wizarding life. He got into the habit of buying two of everything, just to make sure Ron felt included. Ron’s bashful smile was more often than not a nice reprieve from his unknowing jealous glare.

All this being said, there has been a lot Harry had learned to keep private. Yes, the big things are harder, he still remembers the outraged look on his face when Harry told him about making Seeker, but the smaller things, those have gotten easier to cover up. Spending more time with Hermione? Easy deflection towards Ron’s recent tutoring sessions. Got a high mark on an essay? Ron trusts his word enough that paper proof is not even needed. Getting along better with the twins? He volunteered to be their new test subject so Ron didn’t have to.

Harry does feel a little bad. Should it be this easy to lie to your friends?

If that wasn’t enough, Harry was starting to feel strangely proud about being able to navigate his way through Ron’s troubled attitude. After all, a year ago he couldn’t imagine being so cunning without the fear and shame of deceit. 

Peering across the Great Hall, he locked eyes with a certain green-tied classmate, blushing to the tips of his ears when he was met with a wink.

“Maybe if you followed the essay plan I made you, you wouldn’t be so far behind,” Hermione snarked, flicking her pen accusatorily at Ron across the table. Ron grumbled, waving the feathers away from his face.

“I can’t help it, ‘Mione! You have to admit that even you struggle to stay awake in History of Magic. It’s bloody awful,”

“Some of us actually like to learn, and any subject is interesting if you find something you like.” Harry could barely hear her, too preoccupied with the gentle smile he got in response to his goofy one.

“That’s not fair! You like to learn and you think everything is bloody interesting.” Ron huffed again, pushing away the heavily edited draft Hermione was passing over. “Let me get one minute of peace, at least while we eat. It’s nearly Christmas anyway, no one even cares about papers right now.” Harry subtly caught the flying kiss that was sent in his direction, mouthing ‘Seeker’ with a devilish  The responding giggle made his heart flutter.

“Yes, they do! There’s a reason we get work over the holiday, mind you, because they want us to learn as much as possible before exams.”

“You’re being ridiculous! Binns is just as excited for the break as we are, he’s not going to expect O level work.”

“He’s a ghost, Ronald! And he doesn’t even celebrate Christmas.”

“Harry!” This made Harry finally peel his eyes away, jumping out of his skin now that he realized that both of his friends were eyeing him. “...what are you doing?”

“What?”

“Were you looking at…the Slytherin table?” Ron’s face only looked so disgusted for two reasons - when he thinks about his time belching slugs, and when he thinks about Slytherins. Harry’s knee started to bounce involuntarily.

“Just trying to get a rise out of, uh, Malfoy, you know. Not important. What were you two saying?” Ron looked mildly skeptical, but there was a little twinkle in his look at the prospect of annoying Malfoy. He spared a single glance to the other table - crap! Malfoy wasn’t even looking in this direction, let alone pissed at all - before deciding it wasn’t worth the extra thought.

“Tell Hermione she’s crazy for wanting to work so close to Christmas.”

“No, tell Ronald that he is going to get a T if he continues to do work like this.” The two stared at him, both daring him to oppose them. Harry scratched the back of his neck, guilty pushing a breath between his teeth.

“Please don’t get me involved with this.” He was thankful that Ron’s betrayed look didn’t affect him as much as it used to, but Hermione’s glare still made his blood run cold. There was something, however, in his eyes that made him suspicious.

“Since you both insist on sacrificing your grades before the holidays, I’m going to the library alone. You can finish your paper on your own!” Ron’s eyes widened, scrambling to grab his things as Hermione stomped away.

“Bloody-” Harry narrowly dodged an elbow, though his lap did get a nice Yorkshire pudding companion in Ron’s haste, “I can’t believe you’re not coming with us to the Burrow. I’m going to be stuck with that all break!” Harry snickered, reaching across the table for a napkin.

“Just be thankful she always ends up helping you anyway.” Ron’s bag fell one more time before he was finally able to pull himself away from the bench, racing out the door to beg Hermione for her help. Merlin knows what will happen if he brings back another P to his Mother.

In the chaos, there were still distinctly Ron things scattered around the table and floor. A quill, for one, and his Transfiguration textbook that Harry knew Ron would need by this afternoon. Harry chuckled to himself, bending down to pick up a fallen piece of paper, pointedly ignoring the little doodle of Hermione’s name with a heart. When he righted himself, he nearly jumped out of his skin. Across from him, with equally devastating smirks, were the infamous Weasley twins. Harry gulped.

“Ah. What can I do for you gentlemen on his fine day?” Harry asked awkwardly, shufflings Ron’s stuff into a pile just to have something to do other than admit that he was just a little bit nervous. Especially when the twins have that look.

“It’s the strangest thing, you know?” Fred started, leaning towards Harry. They boy didn’t dare speak, but leaned forward too, not knowing if he wanted to hear what would be said next.

“What is, Forge?” George said, mirroring his twin. They all looked a little silly, butting heads over the great, big table, but Harry couldn’t find himself laughing at the moment.

“Well, Gred, I think my eyes are started to trick me.”

“Trick you?!” George said in mock surprise. “Whatever could you mean by that?”

“What else could it be, if not trickery? You see, I was just enjoying my breakfast-”

“What a lovely breakfast it was, too.”

“=when I looked over and saw our very own Harrykins with bright red cheeks!”

“Bright red, you say?”

“As red as a baby’s bum!”

“Oh, my!” Harry felt his face burning once again.

“So I looked over-”

“And what did you see?”

“-to see our very own hero fraternizing with the enemy!”

“Wait!” Harry whispered, yanking them in closer. The devil twins had equally large smiles on their faces. He thought of coming up with an excuse for a split moment, but, Harry realized with dread, that those smiles only meant one thing - the twins already knew the answer and were only waiting for confirmation. Whether that confirmation was verbal or not was of little issue for them. A rock formed in his stomach. Knowing the twins, if they didn’t get an answer now… “No one can know.” At this, their eyebrows raised.

“Am I hearing things correctly?” Fred mimed cleaning his ear, George staring at him with blazing eyes. Harry gulped, nodding his head, unable to meet their eyes. Dread for inevitable pranks turned into dread at rejection, a bubbling fear that the twins would do what he always feared Ron would do one day, turn their backs on him.

“Our little Harrykins is all grown up!” George whispered loudly, ruffling Harry’s already crazy hair. Harry’s head shot up, looking up to see equally smiling faces. Mischievous, as always, but there was a certain softness at the corners. Harry’s confusion quickly covered all his other bad feelings. “Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with us.”

“...what?”

“I knew you were the savior type, but I didn’t know you’d go as far as actively searching a snake pit.” Fred’s wiggling eyebrows made Harry smile sheepishly.

“It wasn’t on purpose…an accidental meeting, if you will, last Christmas.”

“Oh, ho! We finally have the real reason Mother’s beloved adopted child is not joining us this year.” Harry blushed again. “Now, do we have to go over all the safety procedures of a healthy relationship, Can’t have our special boy be defiled by evil, now can we.”

“No, we can’t, Gred.” Their smiles turned devious again. “Now, what was it Father-dearest said to us? Oh yes, the contraceptive charm is very useful in these types of situations-”

“And you can never be too safe, so remember to take a potion afterwards-”

“Okay!” Harry yelled, standing up. He hastily gathered his and Ron’s items, hurrying to the door. “Thank you very much!”

“We haven’t even told you about the dangers of teen pregnancy.” One of them, Harry couldn’t care anymore, yelled at his back, the other cackling loudly.

“Or the dangers of STDs-”

“That’s quite enough, you two! 10 points of Gryffindor for inappropriate language.”

Harry dared to look over his shoulder at the green table across the room as he exited the grand doors, blushing, something he seemed to be doing a lot recently, when he locked eyes with the one pair he desperately wished wouldn’t have noticed the frankly humiliating interaction. The mischievous twinkle in them made Harry dread the teasing that would come, once most of the school left for the holiday and they were finally able to do more than exchange glances across a sea of unsuspecting classmates. Sappy as it was, Harry thought, he couldn’t wait.

______________________________________________________________

masterlist  l What is Laufeyfest? l Laufeyfest masterlist

#harry potter imagine #harry potter x reader #harry potter x slytherin!reader #harry potter one shot #laufeyfest #someonexsomeone #hogwarts imagine #hogwarts one shot #harry potter fluff

[bun-lapin]

Deleted scene from Idia's Confession

A/N: Here is some cut dialogue I had planned to use in my recent one shot where Idia confesses his love to you (link here). I got a little carried away with the initial joke so it was cut to make my desired work length and I realized today I probably wouldn't be able to make it work in a future fic lol

~~

You: (picking up a manga and reading the title) "I was a salaryman but then I got reincarnated as a worm and now I live in my former company president's back garden?" What the-? Why is this title so long?! Idia: (turns to look at you, waggling a tiny screwdriver disapprovingly) Hey! That title's a classic so don't knock it 'till you try it! You: Uh ok then. What's it about? Idia: (looking at you dumbfounded) What are you even saying? The premise is literally right there in the title. You: Well, what genre is it? Idia: Slice-of-life. You: Slice-of life?! What?? How?? Idia: Most of the plot is just the worm guy watching the company president and his adorable family get into day-to-day hijinks. Like the president has a fierce personality at work but is surpisngly doting when he gets home. The wife is cute but ditzy. The 5-year-old daughter is super serious and talks like a medieval knight. The little baby acts like a chaos goblin. There's also a sub plot where birds try to eat the worm guy but he usually just tricks them in really dumb ways. Basically standard stuff for the genre? You: (brain almost melting from the explanation) Huh… well alright then. But this guy got reincarnated as a worm? What'd he do to deserve that? Idia: Uhhh I think if I remember right it was because he was always a jerk to customer service workers. You: (nodding) Ah yeah, that checks out.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst imagines #twst idia #idia shroud #idia x reader #bun-lapin écrit #deleted scene?? #the initial joke really got away from me but now I kinda wish this manga existed :(

[stormkobra-5]

Egyptian Knights

Pairing: Steven Grant, Marc Spector, Jake Lockley x fem!Reader

Fic Type: Drabble

Summary: A short story about how you came to meet and love the Moon Boys.

A/N: Aaaaaand, I'm almost done with Part 1 of Banks of the Nile. It might even be posted before Sunday if I keep up the roll I'm on. (Also the play on words in the title is it not genius--)

Notes: I know very little about DID. What I know has come from Moon Knight, sooo... Pics aren’t mine, I’m not sure whose they are. If anybody knows, please let me know! ^^

Rating: 14+

Warnings: Mild language (couple uses of the F-bomb), Steven being an overwhelming sweetheart, Marc is actually a big softie, Jake is too but he's also the murder husband

______________________________________________________________

So, you've known the Moon Knight system for awhile.

You got to know Steven first. Very sweet, very shy, you met when he opened the door to your apartment instead of his, only allowed by the door breaking under a strength he wasn't quite aware he'd had. He'd frozen at the sight of you in oversized, cozy pajamas, mid-bite of ice cream, staring at him with wide eyes from your mound of thick blankets as you watched your favorite show. You hadn't had a shower in three days, your apartment was a mess, and you'd been crying. Breakup? Nah. Period. The fucking uncalled-for subscription to Blood Monthly you were naturally assigned at birth.

"Um? Dude? Do I know you?"

"Uh..." Steven surveyed your apartment as if it had swallowed his alive. Later, you found out that your turtle habitat and stacks upon stacks of books everywhere had him wondering what the actual fuck, since it was so similar to Gus's tank and his own book setup. Steven's dark coffee eyes met yours, confused. "N-no, I don't think so. Sorry, love. I've the wrong door. So sorry about that. I'll uh... just... I'll pay for the repairs on your door. I'm sorry." You continued to eat your ice cream, but kept your eyes on him as he nervously backed out of the doorway; but then he stopped, a little concerned. "You alright, love?"

A dry, bitter chuckle escaped your lips. "I am literally having an organ shredded internally with lessened contractions as godly punishment for not getting pregnant or whatever. I am in pain, I haven't slept, I haven't eaten, and I think I somehow managed to ruin every pair of white pants I own. How are you?"

"I-I'm good, yeah," Steven replied, before backing away nervously and skittering away. You were sure that'd be the last you'd see of him, but you were very surprised when he returned about forty-five minutes later with a bag. "Hello again," He said, voice uncertain and stance anxious.

"Hiya, Guy-Who-Broke-My-Door."

Steven flushed. "O-oh. Right. I'm Steven. Steven Grant."

"Y/N Y/L/N," You replied, and jerked your chin toward the brown paper bag in his arm. "What ya got there?"

"The beginning of an apology," Steven answered, "If you're in the mood for company, that is. I mean, I could just drop this here with you if you'd prefer, or--"

"Yo," You interrupted, "Dude. Chill. Get over here and show me whatcha got."

And so he did-- the guy had went out and gotten you pads, a water bottle (which he happily heated for you), chocolate, and a variety of snacks that you could nibble on. After heating your water bottle and refusing to let you budge to even put any of his gifts away, he brought you some water.

It was kind of strange-- he'd literally just accidentally broken into your home. For all you knew, he could've been a crazy stalker. But even if he were, he was so nice and sweet and you were so down you gladly accepted his presence. Conversation came easy with him, unlike it did with a lot of others for you-- really, you had a couple of guys at work that were into you.

But even as Steven tripped, face-planting into your floor and spilling the water everywhere (then proceeding to profusely apologize), you thought: Nah. I want that one.

It wasn't long after that you started dating, and it wasn't easy. Sometimes he'd miss dates, forget days of the week, and go for days at a time without texting you or anything at all to show you that he was alright. He always returned, though, apologizing with flowers in hand and promises to make it up to you and explanations about his sleeping disorder.

On a particular spurt where he disappeared for days at a time, he returned very nervous and cautiously told you that he needed to tell you something, admitting that you'd probably leave him for it.

He told you about his DID, Khonshu, him being his Fist of Vengeance— Moon Knight. He introduced you to his alter, Marc Spector, a tough but gentle mercenary that greeted you kindly. "Steven's told me a lot about you. It's nice to finally meet you in person."

It was kind of odd, two people existing in one body: but you accepted Marc, you accepted Steven, and both were pleasantly surprised when you researched DID heavily to better understand the situation. Your library card reached its limit, your computer almost crashed from how many tabs you had running, and you even sought out doctors who could tell you more. You asked Steven and Marc a ton of questions, and they answered them; and as you got to know Marc better, it was hard not to fall for him, too.

He tried to always pull off a tough-as-nails kind of attitude. Stern, brooding, he kind of kept his distance from you at first. But it was the little things: one day he returned from the store, and you found he'd grabbed your favorite snack. He'd never gone shopping for you before. "Ooh! Steven tell you about these?"

Marc pretended like it was nothing, giving a shrug as he continued pulling groceries from the bag and onto the counter. "No. Just see you eating them all the time, and you're almost out, so I figured why not?" His observance is touching, and you couldn’t help yourself; you leaned up to give him a kiss on the cheek, surprising him so badly that he dropped the dish soap. The plastic busted and the sticky orange substance flew absolutely everywhere, and though Marc tries to apologize, all you can do is laugh. Your bright, huge smile is so beautiful that Marc stumbles over his words, and for a second he's so flustered that you think Steven is fronting. "...Sorry, Y/N... I just... Didn't see that coming."

"And why not?" You challenged, still smiling. "It's just like Steven said when he first told me about you-- you come as a package deal. I care about you too, y'know! You're just as much a part of Steven as he's a part of you."

Your first kiss with Steven had been extremely romantic-- classic candlelight dinner and then a ride on the London Eye. Quick, unsure, Steven had pecked your lips after having been staring at you all evening, commenting on how beautiful you looked. Then the second kiss was less timid and more passionate, more confident. But your first kiss with Marc was different-- right there, in your kitchen, he pulled you flush against him by your waist and kissed you lovingly, with more gentleness than you expected from a mercenary.

And that’s how you ended up with two boyfriends.

Your third came along after you, Marc, and Steven actually moved in together. When your boyfriends' body all but kicked down the door rambling in Spanish, you should've known something was off. It wasn’t until much later when you’d calmed him down that he said, reluctantly, “...I’m Jake.”

You shook his hand. “Nice to meet you, Jake.”

It was awhile before you and Jake started dating, namely because every time he saw you coming he’d abruptly disappear, a very confused Marc or Steven taking his place. The one time he did front for awhile in front of you was when you were being hit on by some pushy guy in a bar, and Jake beat the shit out of him. He’d thought you’d be scared of him, and so disappeared immediately after, leaving you with a flustered Steven profusely apologizing for the damage while simultaneously threatening the guy who’d hit on you (though he couldn’t be taken very seriously with his sweet self, although you were fully aware of the fact that he could kick ass if needed).

Your first actual conversation with Jake happened unexpectedly, when you smelled cigarette smoke coming from the porch and made your way outside. Steven wouldn’t put a cigarette in his mouth if you paid him in access to Egyptian tombs nobody had ever seen before. Marc had given up smoking long before he’d met you, instead opting for gum. So if it’s not either of them... “Jake?” You’d asked.

He jumped, turning to face you with wide eyes and immediately going to put the cigarette out. “No no, don’t go anywhere,” You pleaded, and rushed back inside. You came back out with a couple of sandwiches and lemonade, making him raise an eyebrow. “I was looking for you guys! It’s time for lunch!”

He went to put the cigarette out again, but you stopped him a second time. “You don’t have to do that. I like the secondhand smell of the smoke. Makes me feel at home.”

Jake managed to smirk, setting the cigarette aside to pick up a sandwich with a shrug. “Your choice, doll.”

And so you got to know Jake, too. Before you knew it, you had three loving boyfriends at once that would do anything for you— and often did.

You look back on your time knowing the boys, and smile up at them from your place on the couch as you’re snuggled up against their side. Jake notices your attention during a commercial that interrupts the show you’re watching, glancing down at you and making a face. “What? I got somethin’ on my face, hermosa?”

“No,” You reply, leaning the back of your head on his shoulder and staring at up him dreamily. “Just... thinking.”

He traces the bridge of your nose with his thumb, staring into your eyes. It’s Marc that asks, “‘Bout what, babygirl?”

“Us,” You chirp, wrapping your arms around his neck. “You three. How much I love you. How we met.”

Marc snickers. “Yeah, well, we’ve all gotta thank Steven’s clumsiness, or else we never would’ve met you.”

A slight shift of expression, and Steven wraps his arms around you to hold you as close as possible in a squishing cuddle. “We love you, darling.”

“Love you too,” You kiss his cheek. “All three of you. Very much.”

————————————————————————

Thanks for reading! <3 I used my Batons and Unicorns taglist for this, but if that’s not alright just let me know! ^^

Taglist:

@poeticsorcery

@dameronsknight

@sylkisdagger

@atzlena

@gucciboots

@pastel-0-princess

@simonsbluee

@rosaren2498

@love-on-the-murder-scene

@wintergirlsoilder2

@blackcat-midnight-thatsme

@multifandomsw

@bookloverfilmoholic

@khaotic-kris

@hb8301

@soggumm

@adamcarlsenslvr

@bluestuesday

@magnet-girl

#moon knight #steven grant #marc spector #jake lockley #steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #jake lockley x reader #oscar isaac hernandez estrada #oscar isaac

[t00muchheart]

As I do when I am hyperfixating on something, I have read a LOT of supernatural fanfiction in the last few months, and I get a lot of the titles I read from other peoples’ recommendations or collections on ao3, so I figured I’d share some of my favorites in case anyone else is looking for recs :)

AUs:

Spirit of the West by teen_dean

This is a shock to literally no one who follows me because I regularly bring it up, but it honestly is one of the best things I’ve ever read. The 90s horse girl AU of your dreams (or, if you haven’t dreamed of one, that you never knew you needed). The storytelling is immaculate, the symbolism rich, and it only improves on re-reading

And this, your living kiss by opal_bullets

Poet Dean AU featuring genuinely beautiful comments on language and writing and how we encounter stories and words and what they can do, and also some honestly incredible poetry

where there is darkness by quiettewandering

Lighthouse keepers AU! this one is a bit mysterious and I did scream into a pillow after finishing it. If you know the story of the Flannan Isles lighthouse keepers, it is loosely inspired by that.

Phantasma by thisisapaige

Messy Dean, my beloved. Messy, Stanford-Era Dean, my beloved. Dean breaks off from John and buys a haunted house, and things sort of escalate.

For All You Young Hockey Players Out There, Pay Attention by thursdaysfallenangel

I don’t even watch hockey, but this AU kind of made me want to start. Rivals to friends to lovers all while dealing with the homophobia in the NHL

time has come today series by teen_dean

Team Free Will brings in teen Dean Winchester to help with a case, parallel worlds come into play; every version of Dean Winchester falls in love with Castiel & all the good stuff like that

What Baking Can Do by cowlovely

Baker & Dad Dean fic and Doctor Cas? What more could you ask for?

Everyone’s a Critic by Englandwouldfall

Food Critic Cas and Chef Dean meet in a truly unfortunate way. This is worth it for Cas’s reviews alone, but also the Dean-Gabriel dynamic

FROTUS by kathscradle

A President Cas, Restaurant Owner Dean romance that was honestly just a good time

Fix-Its:

take the bones, begin anew by JustStandingHere

This was one of the first fics I read and it is sort of peak disaster™ Dean Winchester. I love a good “I fixed up a house for you and didn’t realize it meant I was in love” fic and this one is iconic

i want to do with you (what spring does with cherry trees) by sobsicles

I ugly cry every time I read this fic. It is a run of Cas and Dean’s relationship in seasons 13-15 and has Dean making a friend and it hurts but also it’s so good. Maybe my favorite Sam line of any fic comes from this fic ("If he thinks what you two do is friendship, then I must just be some guy he happens to speak to sometimes.”)

break the skin (to break the barriers) by sobsicles

Dean gets tattoos, and as he does, he tells the tattoo artist his life story. This is a post-15x19 fic told from an outside perspective and it is so well-done

Dumbassery, Denial, Doing by sobsicles

Listen tbh this list could be dominated by sobsicles and so I am showing restraint by only including three of their works. Their Dean characterization is everything to me and this fic really highlights Dean growing to understand himself better when given the freedom to

Revisions by bizarrestars

THEE what if Dean and Cas got together earlier and Chuck just wrote it out? fic.

a turn of the earth by microcomets

I love a work that explores pre-series Dean, and this one is great. Basically, think what-if later seasons Cas and pre-series Dean met (Strandlines by aeli_kindara is another good example of this premise, but in Strandlines, it is pre-series Cas as well as pre-series Dean).

psalm 40:2 by unicornpoe

On a similar note, psalm 40:2 is a great pre-series Dean, future-Cas fic. I am a bi Dean believer but this fic did sway me toward the gay Dean camp because it’s simply so good.

You Belong Among the Wildflowers by ImYourHoneyBee

Dean fixing his relationship with Jack? You got it. Dean trying to work through losing Cas? Yep. Dean getting Cas back by being stubborn? It’s there.

Who You Gonna Call? by saintedcastiel

Dean has a ghost following him around as he tries to start a life post-series, and for a while, he can’t figure out what’s happening. I love nothing more than Dean telling people he and Cas were married because he doesn’t know how else to explain and this fic delivers so hard

quilts by fleeceframe

A “Cas didn’t confess before getting taken to the Empty” fic. Soft things all around

Miscellaneous:

Fathers & Daughters by sinnabonka

On a different note, this is one of my favorite Claire fics. It looks at Claire’s relationship with Cas and the impossibility of it, and it’s so artfully done.

Bus Loop Madness by batz_in_blue

Literally just a “what if everyone lived, Jack was a toddler, and they all picked him up from school?” AU. I audibly laughed while reading this, and it’s an essential pick-me-up from the heavier fics.

More of my favorite sobsicles fics include: gorging myself on you, still can’t get full (insatiable), and he’s back (with a mind of his own), six hundred sundays (and many more), oh sooner or later it all comes down to faith, things happen (they do, they do, and they do), according to all known laws of life, and profoundly bonded (by law)

Also, honorable mentions to Ninety One Whiskey, which is such a good fic, and Make a Believer Outta Me, which is a Hocus Pocus AU that is honestly just a fun time.

#spn #supernatural #dean winchester #castiel #cas #destiel #deancas #casdean #claire novak #jack kline #supernatural fanfiction #fic recs