#this turned out to be an entire shortfic

[starlightkun]

➠ word count: 4.6k ➠ warnings: cursing, vomiting, depictions of illness, hospital settings, etc. (but he gets better! i prommy!) ➠ genre: fluff, a touch of hurt/comfort, suggestive? (i mean they’re mentioned to shower together but it’s in a very tender caretaking sort of way, it's a ‘you cannot perform this task of hygiene and i love you and will assist you in performing this vital task’ sort of thing), established relationship, former hockey captain sungchan, chronically ill reader (chronic migraines), shortfic in the buzzer beater series (after 27JSC, before garbage goal) ➠ extra info: the title is directly lifted from the title of this academic article on pubmed that came up in some googling i was doing for this fic the reader in this has chronic migraines, which i have. when the reader’s migraines, experiences as a chronically ill person, and thoughts about being chronically ill are described, that is me writing directly from my own life. i am not generalizing the lives of all people with chronic migraines/chronic illnesses, but i am sending all my love to any readers out there living with a chronic illness, and here’s a reminder to go take your meds! ➠ author’s note: i did NOT expect this to turn into a literal series but these two have rlly captured my lil heart tbh. i’m obsessed with them. they’re in love. i’m not sorry and i will not pretend to be in order to be cute on the internet. anyway enjoy 🫶 ➠ series masterlist

The utter relief that you felt having Sungchan home again was a feeling unparalleled. Having him home, in his own clothes, in your bed, holding you and laughing at something stupid he’d just said but thought was the funniest thing ever—that was the most you’d ever loved someone, you decided.

Stirring slightly in the middle of the night, you were aware of being uncomfortable, hot, and sweaty under all your sheets, blankets, and boyfriend.

“Mmh,” you groaned, pushing at Sungchan, who was of course passed out on top of you like you were the mattress. “Channie, off. ‘m too hot.”

He readjusted slightly, but just grabbed you to pull you to his front like the cuddle monster he was. You were now acutely aware of your clothes sticking to your back and chest.

“No, let go.” You grabbed at his arms. “Come on, Channie, aren’t you hot too?”

He suddenly vaulted himself out of bed, throwing the sheets and blankets off of him in a mad dash towards the bathroom. You sat up in bed, blearily watching him in confusion until he kneeled down at the toilet and you finally put the pieces together, hurrying in after him and turning on the light on your way in.

He didn’t have any hair to hold back from his face as he emptied his stomach, so you mainly rubbed his back through his damp t-shirt. With the bathroom lights on, you were able to see that the front and back of his white shirt were entirely soaked with sweat, his face pink and sweat-sheened, and his hair stuck to his forehead. His whole body radiated with an unnatural heat as you sat beside him, coaching and comforting him through it as he gripped the toilet bowl with white knuckles.

When it seemed like he had gotten to a pause in his retching, you coaxed his head up away from the opening, then flushed it. Grabbing some toilet paper from the roll hanging next to you, you bundled up enough to wipe around his mouth and nose, then tossed that into the bowl as well as the water was still draining.

“We…” He stopped to cough, then spit into the toilet. “We ate the same stuff last night… Why aren’t you…”

“Baby, I don’t think this is food poisoning,” you replied, moving his hair off his forehead to press the back of your hand there. “I think you’re sick.”

“But my immune system is so good! I haven’t even gotten a cold in like five years! I got my flu shot two weeks ago!”

“I know, I was there holding your hand.”

His whining was cut off by more puking, and you continued to soothe him through it.

“Channie, you can’t send this.” You shook your head, reading over his email to his research head again.

“But I have to… to tell him why I can’t come in,” Sungchan reached for his phone from your hands.

“Baby, this is gibberish.” You held the phone away from his grabby hands so you could delete the nonsense email and exit out of the app before setting it on his nightstand. “You go back to sleep, I’ll call the lab for you, okay?”

He sighed, laying back down in bed and closing his eyes. “Okay… don’t take too long… miss you…”

“And he’s out,” you commented to yourself fondly.

It was quick work to look up the office line on the university’s website, and you took the call in the living room as he napped in your room. Hearing the click of it being picked up first, it was answered by an older-sounding, stern man.

“Yoon Taekyung.”

“Hi, Dr. Yoon, this is Y/L/N Y/N, I’m—”

“Jung Sungchan’s girlfriend.”

“Oh, yes, Jung Sungchan’s girlfriend.” You laughed nervously, caught off-guard. You’d never met Sungchan’s research head before.

“Jung talks about you a lot. I don’t stalk my PhD candidates online, in case you were wondering.”

“No, I wasn’t, but thank you for clarifying,” you chuckled. “Anyway, I’m sorry to bother you, but unfortunately Sungchan has a stomach bug and is not going to be able to come in for a few days. He had typed up his own email to you but when I proofread it… you could tell the fever was boiling his brain.”

“I would have appreciated the laugh,” Dr. Yoon said dryly. “We certainly don’t want Jung bringing any outside germs into the microbiology lab. Keep him home.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Goodbye, Y/N.”

“Goodbye, Dr. Yoon.”

Having already finished your master’s degree, you didn’t have any professors to email about missing class today. It was a Friday, and you weren’t scheduled to work all weekend, so you were free to stay home and take care of Sungchan.

Walking back into your bedroom, you stopped next to Sungchan’s side of the bed, pressing your hand to his forehead. He really was burning up.

His eyes fluttered open, and he mumbled something that sounded like your name.

“Yeah, baby, I’m here,” you reassured him, stroking his head. “Go back to sleep, I’m going to make you something to eat, okay?”

His eyes closed again, and you gave his head one last gentle pat.

Poking your head back into the bedroom some time later, you were pleasantly surprised to see Sungchan awake again, scrolling on his phone.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” You walked over, grabbing the thermometer off his nightstand.

“Mm… great,” he groaned, setting his phone down.

“Liar.” You held the thermometer out. “Open.”

He pouted up at you with the thermometer sticking out of his mouth as the two of you waited. It beeped, and you took it back, frowning as you read the display.

“I don’t like that…” You sighed, taking a picture of it with your phone. “I’m going to text your mom. How’s your tummy?”

“Fine…”

“You think you can eat? I made some food.”

“Sure, sure, yeah.”

“Okay, be right back, Channie.” You kissed his hair.

In the kitchen, you hurriedly opened your text conversation with Sungchan’s mom. She was a family medicine doctor, and you’d been updating her on how her son was doing throughout the day.

[you: attached image]

[you: his fever keeps going up, even after the meds he took this morning. no more puking so far]

As you spooned out small portions of dishes, loaded them up on a tray, and reheated a mug of some tea you’d prepared earlier, you continued texting back and forth with Dr. Jung.

[dr. jung: Give him another dose of the acetaminophen. If it keeps going up take him to urgent care]

[you: will do, thank you. he’s about to try to eat some lunch. wish us luck!]

[dr. jung: Good luck sweetheart]

Tucking your phone away, you grabbed the tray of food to take back in to Sungchan. He had pushed himself up against the headboard, letting you set the tray down on his lap. Putting the now steaming mug on the nightstand, you started pointing to everything.

“Ginger tea, and easy tummy foods. Some rice, soup, crackers, and for dessert—” You pulled out a small package from the pocket of your hoodie.

He gasped softly. “Chocolate biscuits…”

“Chocolate biscuits,” you confirmed, setting them on the tray table then stroked his hair gently. “I’m going to go clean up the kitchen then I’ll come sit with you. Holler if you need me before then, okay?”

He grabbed your hand before you could get too far, his skin burning hot against yours. “Hey. Thank you.”

“Anything for my Sungchannie,” you smiled, gently swinging your linked hands where they hung in the air. “Small bites, and don’t force anything down, okay? You’ll only throw it back up if you do that.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“And how are you on water?” You picked up the water bottle on his nightstand with your free hand, shaking it. “Eh, half. I’ll refill it for you, too. Be back in a sec.”

After putting the leftovers away and refilling his water, you shook out a couple more tablets of acetaminophen and brought both of them back with you.

“Here.” You placed them on the table next to him. “Your mom says to take another dose, and if your fever keeps going up then we’ll have to take you to urgent care.”

He nodded, thankfully opting not to talk with food in his mouth. You scooted back into bed next to him, resting your head on his shoulder as he slowly picked at his food.

“Good food, baby, thank you,” he sniffled, taking a sip of his tea. “I mean, my nose is so stuffed up I can’t taste most of it, but it’s still good.”

You chuckled, patting his chest. “Thanks, Channie.”

“Are you sure you should be sitting so close to me? I don’t want to get you sick too.”

“We live together, I’m either going to get sick or I won’t. It’s not like I’m asking you to spit in my mouth or anything,” you scoffed.

“Yeah, right now.”

Before you could even make a retort, he suddenly careened forward in a fit of violent coughs, and you surged to first steady the tray table so he didn’t knock the liquids everywhere. After moving it off his legs and onto an unoccupied area of the mattress, you rested a hand on his back as he continued coughing, wincing sympathetically at how painful they sounded. Finally, he stopped coughing, and paused to catch his breath.

“Mm… I think you should keep your loogies to yourself for now, Channie,” you tutted. “Drink some water.”

Setting his water bottle back down, he blinked slowly. “Ugh… that hurt.”

“Do you want the food back? Or are you done?”

He shook his head. “I’m done. Don’t want anything coming back up.”

“I’ll put it in the fridge in case you get hungry later.”

You had just closed the fridge when you heard retching sounds from your bathroom.

It was almost two hours later before the two of you left the cold tile floor of your bathroom. There were impressions of the grout in your knees and your joints ached from the unforgiving, hard flooring. And it was only to get Sungchan to sit on the equally hard, cold, tile floor of the shower under a lukewarm stream of water—you were afraid of making it too hot with how high his fever already was, and he whimpered like the water was hurting him if it was too cold. With how much fever-sweating he’d been doing since the wee hours of the morning, you could only imagine how uncomfortable it was for him (you yourself still hadn’t had the chance to sneak in a quick shower since being awoken in sweat that morning either). Not even to mention just all the puke that the both of you had been around.

You knelt behind him to very gently work some shampoo through his hair, then tilted his chin up with your hand to direct his head back into the spray and rinse out the suds. You used your other hand to block his eyes from any stray shampoo that may accidentally run down into them. With his hair off his forehead, you could catch a glimpse of a light scar, from taking a puck directly to the face your senior year of college, soon after you started dating. You’d taken care of him then, warned him to be careful when washing his hair, and he’d joked about having you do it for him. You couldn’t help but run a finger over it lightly.

After finishing up washing his hair, you reached behind you to blindly fumble for the handle and turn the spray off. It was a bit dicey getting the two of you to stand up in the confined space with Sungchan’s less-than-optimal coordination at the moment, and you toweled the both of you off in the bathroom quickly.

Back in new clothes, you let him fall into bed as you appraised the nightstand. “Did you take the meds before you threw up? I don’t— Oh, there they are.”

You grabbed them from behind the water bottle, nudging Sungchan’s shoulder. “Baby, you can take a nap after you take these, okay? They’re going to help your fever.”

“Uh?” He squinted one eye open, then dropped his mouth open. You placed the tablets on his tongue, then held the straw up to his lips. He swallowed with minimal difficulty, then dropped his head back down to the pillow.

You crawled into bed too, curling up behind him and throwing an arm over his middle. Sungchan groaned and shifted in place.

“Are you warm?” You asked quietly. “I’ll scooch if you’re too warm.”

“No,” he whined, grabbing at the blankets and pulling them up higher. “Cold… ‘n everything hurts, baby. My head hurts, my throat hurts, my stomach hurts, my muscles hurt from throwing up so much. Everything hurts.”

“My Sungchannie.” You scooted in closer to him, burying your face in his neck. “I’m sorry… I wish it didn’t hurt, baby. I’m so sorry. I wish I could make it stop for you.”

“I’m going to take a nap, I think…” He sniffed.

“I think that’s a good idea.” You kissed his shoulder. “I’ll be right here when you wake up, baby boy.”

“That’s it, we’re going to the urgent care,” you declared with a shake of your head, looking at the most recent temperature readout on the thermometer. Up again.

Despite all of Sungchan’s grumbling about not being that sick, you still managed to get him into the car and to the doctor, keeping a wary eye on him as you took all of your turns very carefully and accelerated and braked as smoothly as possible so that he hopefully wouldn’t vomit all over your car interior as well. After staying in the waiting room for an agonizing amount of time, you two finally went back.

The doctor took one look at Sungchan’s vitals, and you explained just how many times he’d thrown up in less than twelve hours, before deciding to admit him.

You had been asked to step out of his room for the moment, and walked up and down the long hallway, continuing to update his mom.

[you: he just got admitted. doctor says he probably just needs fluids and something stronger to bring the fever down but wants to keep him overnight for observation]

[dr. jung: Who’s his attending?]

[you: dr. chen]

[dr. jung: Oh good. He’s good, our Sungchan’s in good hands. I’ll be by after clinic closes.]

[you: thanks, i’ll let him know you’re coming]

A nurse left Sungchan’s room then, and you perked up as the older man seemed to be walking towards you.

“I’m so sorry, miss, this is going to sound weird,” he began with a sheepish smile. “But has your husband been on TV?”

“Oh, uh, boyfriend…” You corrected him distractedly, way more focused on said boyfriend. “And uhm, not exactly. Why?”

“He just looks very familiar.”

You thought for a second, then suggested, “Do you like hockey?”

“Yes, my wife and I have season passes for the local university’s team’s home games.”

“Sungchan played for the Raptors a couple years ago.”

“Oh! I was wondering why the name was so familiar too…”

“Sorry, did you need something from me?”

“Yes, I need to put his IV in, uhm, but he’s asking for you…”

You nodded. “Yeah, he has a fear of needles. Shouldn’t that be in his chart or whatever somewhere?”

“We just have the records from the urgent care doctor who sent him up here, sorry,” the nurse admitted. “But I’ll make a note of it.”

Following the nurse in, you saw that Sungchan was all by himself, and had to bite your lip at the image of him already hooked up by wires to a bunch of other machines. He still smiled when he saw you, though.

“Hey, baby…” he held his hand out towards you, and you took it, giving it a squeeze.

“Hi. Heard you were asking for me.”

“Thought you might feel left out if I got a needlestick and you weren’t here.”

“Yeah, it’s my favorite hobby, watching you get pricked over and over,” you replied sarcastically.

“Which arm?” The nurse asked.

“The right. He’s a lefty,” you answered immediately.

He looked between you and Sungchan for a moment.

“What she said,” Sungchan confirmed.

As the nurse prepared his arm for the IV, you distracted him on his other side.

“So, I was texting your mom in the hallway,” you told him. “She said she’s going to come by after the clinic closes. She also knows your attending, says you’re in good hands, we’ve got nothing to worry about.”

“Oh, that’s good.” He suddenly squeezed your hand tight.

You rushed to find another topic and keep talking, “Also, I have to tell you about this new book I was reading. Really, it was a collection of short stories, but you know how I am with those. God, it’s incredible. It’s like surrealism, and sort of psychological horror, and some of them toe in body horror, but also magical realism, but all of them sort of explore like womanhood and societal expectations of women and that kind of thing. They’re so fantastic. There’s one about a teenage girl who just starts eating birds one day. Like, live birds, the kind of birds you’d keep as a pet. Feathers and all. She’s not actually the POV character, though, you get to follow her dad as he tries to take in this change and adjust and acclimate to it as his otherwise normal teen daughter has to consume live birds while his estranged wife tries to convince him to just accept it and that it’s really not that bad. And obviously that can be a metaphor for how fathers—”

“Done.” The nurse announced. “Dinner’s in an hour, Mr. Jung. Buzz if you need anything before then.”

“I think you freaked him out with your ‘eating live birds and scaring your dad is a metaphor for being a teen girl’ story, baby,” Sungchan chuckled.

“But it is!” You defended yourself. “And it’s so good, really!”

“I’m sure it is.” He scooted over in the tiny bed to make a little bit of room, then patted the empty space he’d just created. “Want my girl to tell me all about it.”

You clambered up next to him, still with one foot hanging off the bed to let both of you fit, but just all too happy to be with him again.

Just a little while later, and the nurse was poking his head back into Sungchan’s room. Dr. Jung paused the funny story she had just been telling from her seat on the small recliner next to the bed, and all three of you looked over at the newcomer.

The nurse focused his apologetic eyes on you, “Miss, I’m sorry, but visiting hours are over.”

“Oh.” You looked around awkwardly, starting to get up from the bed. “Sorry, I thought he was allowed to have one person stay overnight.”

“Spouses and immediate family only, I’m sorry.”

“That’s fi—”

“No, we’re married,” Sungchan insisted, grabbing your hand. “It’s fine, she can stay.”

“Sir…” He trailed off, clearly debating about whether or not he wanted to just outright call Sungchan a liar.

“Channie, I told him earlier we were dating,” you informed your boyfriend quietly. “It’s fine, I don’t want to cause any trouble.”

“Baby…” He sighed.

“It’ll be okay, Channie, I’ll be back tomorrow,” you promised him, grabbing your go bag off the floor and hoisting it onto your shoulder. “You just worry about resting and getting better for me, okay?”

“I’ll walk you out, sweetheart,” his mom offered kindly, standing up as well.

“Thank you.”

“Goodnight, Channie,” you leaned down to drop a peck on his forehead. “I love you.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.” He continued to keep a deathly tight grasp on your hand. “I love you too.”

You gave his hand one final pat before regretfully, gently shaking him off and walking out of the room. Dr. Jung slowly meandered down the hall with you.

“I’ll be there, in case they have to inject him, or draw blood, or anything else,” she reassured you.

“Right, thank you,” you nodded, looking down at your feet. “Has he always been afraid of needles? He never really talks about it with me, it’s just one of those things. I go with him for his shots, blood draws, all that.”

“Since he was a kid. He used to run from the room crying. We at least wanted him to be able to handle it on his own by the time he was an adult, even if it wasn’t comfortable.”

“He gives me my monthly injection now, the one I take for my migraines. Did you know that?”

“Really?” She did sound surprised at this tidbit of information.

“Pretty much since we started dating, yeah. Still wants me to go with him for his shots but…”

“It’s different when you’re the one being stuck.”

“Yeah, it is,” you agreed, swallowing down the lump in your throat. You pressed the down button on the elevator. “Usually I’m the one that has something wrong with me and he’s taking care of me. It’s so… it doesn’t feel right, seeing him like that.”

“I know, sweetheart, I know.” She rubbed your arm. “But he’s strong, he’s healthy. I’m sure they’ll discharge him tomorrow to go back home with you.”

“Of course.”

“Now you go home and take care of that migraine that’s been coming on for the last fifteen minutes.”

You looked up at her with one eye open, shrugging. “Well, I don’t know if it’s a full migraine…”

“You’re squinting at the lights, sweetheart. Go home so you can take your meds, okay?”

The elevator dinged just then, the doors opening on your floor.

“Okay, thank you.” You gave her a tired, but genuinely grateful smile as you stepped onto the elevator. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

You spent that night going through your first migraine alone in almost two years, curled up on Sungchan’s side of the bed in one of his huge hoodies, feeling like your head was exploding. But that wasn’t even the reason that you were crying.

In the morning, you were awake before visiting hours opened back up, and despite your instinct to drive to the hospital and wait in the parking lot, you pulled yourself into the shower instead. You didn’t have a lot of time nor mobility for your own shower routine yesterday, and were in desperate need of a good thorough clean and refresh now. After eating some of the leftovers you made the day before, you packed up a small to-go meal for Dr. Jung as well, unsure of how good the cafeteria food was there. She had given you an update during the night that his fever had finally broken, then another once she woke up that he slept through the rest of the night fine, and was still resting as of her text.

By the time you got to the hospital, it was open for daytime visitors, and you were let in with no issues. You’d let Dr. Jung know when you were on your on way, and she was standing outside the door to his room when you arrived.

“Morning, sweetheart,” she smiled, giving you a hug. “How’s your head?”

“Fine,” you waved off her concerns, reaching into your bag to grab the container of food you’d packed. “Brought you breakfast. Wasn’t sure what they were serving downstairs…”

She accepted it gratefully. “Thank you. Now: How’s your head?”

“Last night kind of sucked,” you admitted. “And I’ve got a rebound headache, but I’ll be fine. We don’t need to tell Channie right now, though. He’ll just worry too much and he won’t get better. How’d you sleep? That recliner looked pretty comfy.”

“Would’ve slept better, except he snores like a freight train,” she scoffed. “How you get any sleep is beyond me.”

You let out a round of genuine laughter at that. “He doesn’t usually. Must be the congestion.”

“Must be.” She shook her head. “Anyway, I’m going to take my breakfast downstairs. He’s awake, been asking when you’d be here.”

“Thank you.” You gave her one last fleeting hug before hurrying in.

Sungchan already looked better than yesterday, still tired, but not as deathly pale as before, with no sheen of fever-sweat over his skin. He really just looked… tired.

“Good morning, Channie,” you said breathlessly, setting your bag down. “Heard your fever broke last night. How are you feeling?”

“Morning, baby.” He reached out for your hand. “I’m feeling a lot better. I wish I could’ve made my girl breakfast this morning…”

“You can make me double breakfast after you come home.”

“And what’s double breakfast?”

“Guess you’ll have to figure that out.”

“Breakfast and breakfast for dinner.”

“Sounds pretty good to me.”

He looked up at you with a thoughtful frown on his face, reaching out to gently touch his fingertips to your cheek. “Are you okay, baby? You’re not feeling sick now too, are you?”

“I’m fine, baby. Just a bit tired. I’ll sleep like a baby once I have my Sungchannie back home with me.” You mustered as big of a smile as you could, squeezing his hand.

“I’ve got to get better quick then, can’t have—” he was cut off by loud, violent coughs, throwing his arm up to cover his mouth with his elbow. You rubbed his back as he continued coughing, and he reached for the bedside table. Handing him a couple of tissues from the box sat there, he spat out some of the mucus that had come up, and you used a few more fresh tissues to grab it and throw it away without complaint.

Returning to his side, you continued rubbing his back as he caught his breath. When he started slowly easing back into his bed, you took your hand away and grabbed his cup of water to give him.

“Here.”

He took a few sips before handing it back, and you took his hand again.

“As I was saying,” he cleared his throat. “Before I was so rudely interrupted by my own phlegm: I can’t have my girl all alone in a cold bed at night…”

You laughed, feeling the smitten smile on your face as you looked down at him. “There is some horndog switch in you that gets flipped when you’re unwell, I swear. Scientists need to study you.”

“I’m a scientist, remember?”

“You study a disease in one kind of fish,” you pointed out. “I mean like… sexologists or something. If those exist.”

“They do.”

“Well they’re missing out on… something here.” You gestured to him.

He half-laughed and half-coughed, which devolved into another full coughing fit. After recovering, he said, “Anyway, once my doctor rounds again and checks me out, he’ll be able to say if I can be discharged today or if he wants to keep me another night.”

“Fingers crossed.”

The utter relief that you felt having Sungchan home again was a feeling unparalleled. Having him home, in his own clothes, in your bed, holding you and laughing at something stupid he’d just said but thought was the funniest thing ever—that was the most you’d ever loved someone, you decided.

You suddenly rolled over to lay on top of him, pressing your face to his chest, wrapping your arms around him, and throwing your leg over him. He let out a slightly punched-out noise at the unexpected force of your affections, but nevertheless readjusted to wrap his arms around you.

“Hey, baby… Everything okay?” His throat was still hoarse, and he let out a half-cough half-throat clearing noise between his sentences. He added jokingly, “I’m not going to float away, you know?”

“I never want you to leave again,” you mumbled into his clothes. “Never. Never ever.”

“Okay, yeah,” his voice softened, one of his hands cradling the back of your head and stroking your hair. “I’ll never leave, ever again.”

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#sungchan x reader #riize x reader #sungchan imagines #riize imagines #sungchan #sungchan imagine #riize imagine #nct x reader #nct imagine #nct imagines #jung sungchan #i: sungchan #f: onsaom #s: buzzer beater #writing #text #mine #bias tag #*100

[thelittlestsquid]

The Good, The Bad And... Whatever This Is - Price x F!Reader 18+!

(A/N): I really need to do serious headers. Not today tho. While I finish my König shortfic - heres some smut that ISN'T LEAVING MY HEAD. It's just a small lil thing but I have to get it out into the world. My god. I'm such a whore for this man.

Summary: There's a fine line between right and wrong... But it's blurry and Price is way too horny to care.

Warnings: 18+!, smut, slutty smut, smuuuuut, forbidden love, hidden relationship, slight choking, older man/ younger woman, office sex, language (you know me by now), Jealous sex, breeding mentions

Word count: 1.4k

Price felt like his body was overheating. Like his marrow was cooking his bones from the inside out. He was horny, so fucking horny.

The entire day he had to watch you, running around like the little sunshine you were - making him go crazy.

But he knew he couldn't pull you aside just yet. You had work to finish and so had he - but it was so fucking hard. HE was so fucking hard.

It got harder to focus on his screen. The minutes pass so slow, he wonders if time stood still just to fuck with him. The screen in front of his eyes began to blurr, his mind occupied with you.

Thats it.

Shutting off his computer with his unfinished work, he stood up. Some of his papers - he didn't care if they were important right now - flew to the ground, littering the front of his desk. He didn't waste another minute and made a beeline for the door. Right in front, he stopped himself and stared down at his bulge. Fuck. Grumbling, he stepped back and opened his belt, reaching into his pants to tuck his aching dick into the waistband of his boxers.

He strode into the corridor, knowing exactly where he needed to go. Some Privates and Seargents greeted him, even throwing respectful salutes his way - but he saw none of them. Almost like tunnel vision, he speedwalked straight into the shooting range.

There you were. Bending around a cadet, trying to make him shoot the dummies and not everything else. You're pants tightening around your ass, hugging it in a way that made him almost go crazy on the spot.

You didn't notice him, completely focused on your task. You also didn't notice the way the recruit look at you. Giving you slight side- eyes, clearly very happy how close you were.

You didn't notice. But fucking hell, Price did.

Bastard thinks he's smart, he thought as he leaned against the wall, his cock throbbing against his waistband.

''Seargent'', his low voice rumbled through the relatively quiet room, making you jump slightly. You look over your shoulder, smiling as you see the Captain.

''You need something, Cap'?'', you ask as you hand the gun to the cadet. As you fully turn around, your smile vanishes. Price looks down at you with dark eyes, a serious expression on his usually friendly face.

''I need you to come with me. Now'', not waiting for your answer, he walks back out. With a quick apology to the obviously disappointed cated, you rush out to follow him - quick footsteps following his own long strides.

Back in his office, you eye the papers on the ground. You knew John to be a very clean person. He kept his office pristine and was especially careful with his documents, no matter how important. Whatever made him leave in such a hurry, it had to be important.

You quickly learned that you worried over nothing, as John quickly shut the door, just to slam you against it.

His hands gripped your arms tightly, face only inches away from yours. As always, his breath smelled like the countless cigars he smokes on a daily basis - the scent is mixed with his natural musk and... something else. You couldn't quite place it but you didn't have to anyway - Johns lips caught yours in a heated kiss. His hands roamed your body as he breathlessly broke the kiss, his forehead touching yours.

''You having fun with the cadets, eh? Leaving me here all alone while giving them all your attention, love?'', his hands grab your chin. ''Not a good look, mh?'', you could feel his lower body press against you. You let out a whimper, not expecting to feel his bulge against you lower body. So thats what this was about. Grinning, you put a hand onto his shoulder, fingers digging into his shoulder blades, making his eyes narrow a little. With a wink, you steal a kiss from his cheek and manage to wiggle free, quickly walking to his desk.

''Oh, I had so much fun with the newbies, you know how much I like younger guys~'', you grin. Both you and John knew that was a lie, your secret relationship with the, almost twice as old as you, Captain was the proof. John chuckled under his breath and walked closer to you, not caring about the papers on the floor that got crumbled under his boots. He'd worry about them later. ''So we're lying now? I'd say that's not a good look now, is it? I thought I found myself a proper lady, not a little, lying minx'', he pinned you over his desk, even more papers flying to the ground in the process.

You smiled up at him, clearly enjoying the exchange, ''John, this is your office, what if someone comes inside and uh... sees this?'', you look towards the door, worried that your secret might come out. John, already in the process of undoing his belt, looks down at you and huffs, ''Then we gotta be fast, love, I won't last long anyways, not with how you look right now...''.

Your pants lay disregarded on the floor as Price steps between your legs, his own pants down to his ankles. He takes a moment to take in your form, legs around his waist, your hands holding - or trying to - onto the desk as you stare up at him with evident lust in your eyes. With a heavy exhale, he leaned down and wrapped a hand around your throat to gently pin you onto the desk. ''Enough talking, love. I can't hold on much longer-'', without talking any further, he grabbed your waist with his free and to ram himself inside you, making the entire desk shake.

Price threw is head back, trying to control the loud growl that threatened to escape his throat as you let out a suprised moan. Your sweet noises almost made him burst inside you on the spot, but the last bit of restraint in him held him back.

With one hand still on your throat and the other with a vice grip on your waist, he started to thrust - deep and fast strokes, making you see starts.

''Ngh, fuck- John-'', you started, a little too loud for his liking. The hand on your throat wandered up to cover your mouth, his pace slowing down. ''Calm down, love, we don't want your little cadets to hear you scream your own captains name, no? No, that wouldn't be fucking. right. - eh?'', he started his hard thrusts again, emphasizing each word with a deep, especially hard thrust that makes you see stars. He leans forward to stare into your eyes. ''How about I show them who you belong to, mh? Fuck you nice and hard, making you scream like the good fucking girl you are for me, mh? Fucking put my babies inside you, so they fucking see that. you're. fucking. taken.'', his thrusts got messier as he talked himself further into his arousal.

He grabbed your shoulders to press you into the desk and hid his face in your neck as he let out a deep growl, emptying himself inside you, making you whimper against the side of his head.

''Fucking hell, sweetheart... you're making me go crazy, you know that?'', he mumbles breathlessly in the crook of your neck, leaving a kiss there before he stood back up.

He stared down at your form, still laying on his desk, in a daze. He wondered how he ever deserved you, a young and talented girl. A beautiful woman. John himself wasn't getting any younger but the fact that you still ignored all the rules to stay with him and almost force him to admit his feelings...

You were everything he ever wanted, yet he couldn't risk showing you off, even if he so desperately wanted to.

Blinking, you looked up at John, grinning slightly. ''Are you thinking again? Well, if you have time for that, I believe still have time for another round?~'', you pull him closer with your legs around his pelvis.

Price chuckled and let himself glide inside you again.

Yeah no, he wouldn't risk having to let you go. Ever.

#i kinda want to make this into an entire fanfic tbh #call of duty #cod #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod mw #john price #captain john price #price x reader #john price x reader #captain price x reader #price smut #smut #female reader #fem! reader #price x fem! reader

[ayyy-pee]

𝑷𝒓𝒐𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒖𝒆: 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑫𝒂𝒚 𝑾𝒆 𝑴𝒆𝒕

Discord 18+ - Twitter - JJK Masterlist

Pairing: Choso x f! Reader

Summary: Every summer, he's a little taller. Every summer, his voice is a little deeper, a little richer. Every summer he's more handsome. And as you both grow together, so does your love.

A story of love blooming between two individuals over many, many summers.

Chapter Warnings: **Depictions of Drowning** - read with caution

Choso Art By: NC9__

AN: I've been itching to write a Choso only fic lately and I've had this summertime romance fic in my head for the last few days that I thought he'd be good in! It'll be a childhood friends to lovers shortfic (like five chapters) and I hope you all enjoy! Here's the prologue!

**Also while not all chapters contain adult content, the themes of this story are targeted towards adults, so minors DNI please.

You were nine years old when you laid eyes on the ocean for the first time. 

You remember it clear as day, your parents' sudden turn of fortune allowing them to splurge on more luxurious things. Suddenly you were gifted with new toys, new clothes and shoes, new furniture in your home. And your parents…well, they decided to purchase a beach house for vacations. So fun. So exciting. So new. You’d never gone on family vacations before unless it was to visit your grandparents. That was boring. But this…this was something new and shiny and wonderful.

You’d never been so excited to get in the car and go, your mouth moving a mile a minute as you bombarded your poor mother with questions along the way. After many hours of curling up in the car for naps, many pit stops and what seemed like an entire day to your young mind, you finally arrive at your new vacation home. 

Your dad unloads all of your bags as you bounce around the house. It’s homey, comfortable, already furnished and most importantly, you can see the ocean from your living room windows. You watch the waves roll in one after another, barely able to contain your excitement. You beg your parents to take you to the beach, to let you see the ocean as close as you can. After some negotiating (unpacking your bag and a quick snack), your mother rushes you off to the beach, leaving your father to inspect the rest of the house.

“We’ll have a girls day. Just you and me,” your mother beams, holding your hand tight as you descend the stairs from the pier.

There is so much to take in here: seagulls screeching in the distance, the crashing of waves rolling into each other, jet skis zipping past, all new sounds filling your little ears. The graininess of the sand between your toes, the warmth and softness as it runs through your fingers. An hour later, after many sandcastles and moats have been built, you stand where the sand meets the ocean, barefoot with wide eyes drinking in the vast amount of water ahead of you. The soft foam of the rolling water kisses the tips of your toes before crawling back out to sea. 

Your mother has gone to get you both drinks at the boardwalk, the sun finally beginning to drain you both. Before leaving, she made you promise to stay seated under the beach umbrella until she gets back. Any other day, you would listen. You really would. You’d stay glued to your spot, waiting patiently for your mother to return. But this is your first time at the beach. Of course you want to know more about this massive wonder only a few steps away. So your tiny feet inch forward. 

The sudden chill of the water makes you gasp in shock when you feel how much colder it is in contrast to the scorching sand on your feet just seconds prior. It takes you a moment to adjust, shivering slightly as you wade forward. The water soon reaches above your knees, the push and pull of the current sending more shivers up your body as the cold reaches higher and higher. The current pulls and you lose your footing for the briefest of seconds before it pushes you back to standing. You giggle, deciding you love the ocean more than you’d thought.

You wish you knew how to swim. You think you’d swim all the way to where the sky meets the ocean if you could. The horizon. That’s what you remember your mother calling it just earlier when you’d arrived. You decide you’ll ask your mother for lessons when she gets back. But for now, you’ll only go out until the water reaches your waist. That won’t be too bad. You push forward, your heart pounding happily as your little mind rapidly fires off questions you hope to soon have answers to. 

I wonder how much water is in the ocean?

Can I drink it?

What’s that smell?

Why is wet sand so squishy?

What if there’s mermaids?

Or what if there’s a shark?

All of your thoughts are racing through your head so fast, you don’t realize you’re inching further and further, deeper and deeper into the waters. Eyes locked on the horizon, you fail to notice how deep you’ve gone…until your footing is lost beneath you. You feel yourself drop, feet hitting soft sand, your face barely above water enough to breathe but you launch yourself up, gasping in an attempt to get as much air as you can. And then you’re down again, feet kicking, toes pointed to the point of cramping, desperately trying to find the ground again and only sinking further. A dark shadow rises to loom over and you peer up just in time to let out a shrill cry as a wave comes crashing down on you not a second later. 

The first thing you feel is frozen, the sudden iciness of the deep waters shocking you to the point you can’t move. You try to inhale, only resulting in your lungs being filled with fluids. But it’s enough to make you move, your arms and legs thrashing wildly as you try to resurface to no avail. 

You peer up again. The reflection of the sky above waves tauntingly at you, teasing you by being just within arms reach, and still you are unable to get to it. You can just barely make out the rays of sun over the surface of the water, your eyes burning with an intensity you’ve never experienced before in your nine short years on this earth. You wave your arms, kick your legs, try your hardest to get closer to those rays only to feel yourself sinking lower, getting further.

Your lungs are on fire, ears throbbing with the roaring whoosh of water as the ocean pounds against your eardrums relentlessly. You squeeze your eyes shut tight, not even able to enjoy the relief it brings your eyes as you stupidly try to breathe again. You can’t even help it. Your body is doing what it knows to do, what it needs to survive. 

And you, at the tender age of nine, soon begin to realize that even as your body fights, your chances of survival are minimal.

You wish you knew how to swim.

Your head hurts, the pain beginning to seep into your bones as your limbs tingle. Everything hurts as the undercurrent of the waves tosses you back and forth, rolls and twists your body painfully. But more than anything, your heart hurts as your mothers face comes to mind. 

The disappointment and fear she’ll surely feel when she comes back and sees you’ve moved from your place under the umbrella. That you broke your promise to her and now you’re nowhere to be seen. 

You see your dad’s face, twisted with agony when he gets the news. 

Even as your nine year old heart comes to terms with your impending demise, you can only wonder if your mom will be angry with you. You hope she won’t be. You hope she’ll know how sorry you are. That you should have listened. You should have stayed.

You wish you knew how to swim.

The burning in your lungs subsides. The muffled noise of breaking waves fades. And your mind stops racing. Your mind just…stops altogether. There are no thoughts lingering in your head, no more fear, no more pain. You’re just there, floating in the abyss. 

And then you feel it, a lifeline hooking itself quite literally to your shirt, yanking you up and out of the depths below and guiding you roughly to the surface as the ocean tries to drag you back. You feel the rays of the sun warm your skin again, the heat radiating all the way to the marrow of your bones. The gusts of wind slapping against your face quite literally revive you; a visceral cough racking through your body. It’s disgusting, putrid, all the salt water stinging both your throat and your nostrils as you retch, gag and expel the remnants from your body.

You feel your back gently hit the sand, someone’s small hands holding your face as they hover over you. You can’t see straight, your vision blurring as you squeeze your eyes open and shut to rid yourself of the salt water still assaulting your corneas. 

Whoever is holding you is talking, but it’s muffled. You can barely make out anything they’re saying. They’re holding your hand, pressing their ear against your nose, talking to you and you can just make out a “someone’s coming to help you”. Then there’s another person crouching next to you. They grab you, pulling you to them, holding you so tight you almost feel like you’re underwater again. And it takes no time at all for you to realize it’s your mother: the familiar warmth of her body, a heartbeat you’ve known since before birth. There’s no doubt in your mind it’s her. She’s not angry with you like you thought she’d be but you can hear the fear in her trembling voice when she speaks to the person you assume saved you.

Your mother swipes at your eyes and your vision clears, your gaze focusing only on her. Then she dips her fingers into your ears and you feel the water spill from them, her voice becoming clearer. Next to you, the person who pulled you from the water speaks, voice soft as they ask if you’re alright.

You tilt your head from your mothers chest to give a tiny nod. With clear eyes, you can finally see their face. It’s just a boy, a kid maybe your age or a year older. He’s got wide brown eyes that stare straight into yours as he inches closer to you and your mother. His dark hair is wild and unkempt, tied up in two pigtails. Even wet, they poke out every which way. 

“You almost died,” he gasps, not bothering to filter himself. “You gotta pay attention out there!”

“You saved her?” Your mother asks, and you can hear the shakiness in her voice still. The little boy nods.

“Yep! Me and my brothers were playing over there–” he points off to the side where two younger boys and a small baby sit under a large umbrella. 

“What’s your name?” Your mother questions.

“Choso,” the boy answers with a wide grin. He’s got a large gap where one of his front teeth should be and it makes you smile. “I take care of my brothers when we come to the beach, so I’m always watching to make sure they don’t get hurt. I saw a wave take her under so I went to help and–”

He’s cut off by your mother suddenly yanking him into her embrace, squeezing you two together tightly. “Thank you,” your mother sobs into his hair. “Thank you so much. You could’ve died, too. You have to be careful, too. Both of you. You have to be careful.”

She holds him and you to her chest, sobbing in joy and relief that you are both okay, both safe. You feel strange, your mom cradling you in one arm and this stranger you just met two minutes ago in the other. But your eyes find Choso and he doesn’t seem to be sharing the same sentiment. He looks shy, embarrassed, his cheeks a bright crimson as your mom continuously thanks him for saving you, calls him your guardian angel.

His gaze meets yours, brown eyes swimming with what you think are tears and he gives you a shy smile that you just as shyly return. You know from that moment that you will be seeing Choso again. And though the day did not turn out as expected, when you crawl into bed that night and replay the events of the day, you think the day turned out even better. 

You think back to the look on Choso’s face when your mother held him, thanking him profusely. She wanted to meet his parents to thank them as well, and was surprised to know that his mother and father were not around much and so the brothers entertained themselves for the most part. This wouldn’t do, so your mother took him and his brothers home after treating them to dinner. You think about the tender smile Choso gifted you with when you agreed to come back to the pier to play with him and his brothers later in the week. Yes, you could say today was a good day. And you were hoping to have many more with Choso.

You were nine years old when you laid eyes on the ocean for the first time.

And you’d almost died.

But you were also nine years old when you were saved from that same ocean. 

And you laid eyes on the love of your life for the first time.

#choso kamo x reader #choso kamo x you #choso kamo fic #choso x reader #choso x you #choso x y/n #choso x female reader #choso kamo x y/n #anime x you #anime x y/n #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk fanfic #anime fanfic

[tavyliasin]

BG3 FicFeb NSFW - Day 3

I'll be honest with you darlings I had every intention of making this one spicy but then feelings happened? Still, it was fun to write, and an interesting scenario I might re-use at a later date. Shortfic below the cut (still NSFW) with some CW/Tags for angst, hurt/comfort, scars, wounds, mention of character trauma, but I promise it is mostly on the fluffy comforting side~

----- -----

Day 3 - Body Worship

It had been far too long since Tav had found an opportunity to bathe properly. Not just scrubbing off with a damp cloth, or dunking into a freezing lake, a proper warm bath. Of course, taking advantage of having access to a brothel’s finer rooms whilst investigating a disappearance was something she took very seriously. She had to be completely certain she wouldn’t miss a vital clue amongst the perfumed soaps and soft towels. Who knew when the last piece of information they needed might be at the bottom of a wine bottle, or lurking in the bowl of fresh fruit…

“Well, that is certainly better than a murky pond.” Astarion echoed her thoughts as he sank into the water beside her. “Gods that feels good.” 

“We should take up the role of investigators more often.” Tav chuckled, reaching for the silver bowl that held a fresh sponge and some soaps. “Here, let me, for once.” 

“You don’t need to-”

“I want to.” She left little room for further complaint, taking his hand in her own and delicately sponging away the dirt that seemed to cling to his nails.

“I am not about to break, you know.” He watched her with an eyebrow raised as she continued to be far more gentle than he felt he deserved. 

“I know.” If anything, Tav slowed slightly, taking a moment to caress his fingers reverently. “But the world has been rough enough with you lately. Is there anything wrong with a little tenderness instead?” 

“Yes- No. Maybe.” He wasn’t even sure what he was trying to say as she brought his hand to her lips and kissed each fingertip in turn. “You…Well…” He sighed, giving in to her care instead for now.

“Relax, Astarion, please.” She trailed a line of kisses up his forearm to his elbow, her fingers gently brushing the faint lines of decades old scars and far fresher bruises marking his pale form. “You know, you really are beautiful.” 

“I know.” He replied, out of reflex. “Sorry, old habits… I suppose truly I have no idea if I am or not, other than the parts of myself I can see clearly. Even the water doesn’t hold my reflection any more.”

“Then let me be your mirror.” She smiled, brushing a stray lock of hair that threatened to fall forwards into his eye. “Now, where was I?” 

Tav began to wash his other hand and arm, with the same reverence she had used before, but this time giving voice to the thoughts that floated through her mind as she did. 

“Here, your fingers. I could comment on how skilled they are, how you can make me feel, but what I admire most is how they always find a solution. You’ve picked locks, disarmed traps-”

“You can do that just as well as I, my love.” He protested, though just as quickly his arguments met their rebuttal.

“Maybe, but you were the one who unlocked my heart.” Tav laughed at the absurdity of her own statement. “It’s cheesier than an entire dairy, I know, but it’s true. I spent my whole life just going from one fling to the next, living each day like it might be my last. Living like that…well you just don’t think of a future. Or who you might spend it with. It was better to just enjoy what I could when I could. Besides, attachments could be exploited.”

“And you see a future now? With tadpoles in our brains, and the threat of an actual mindflayer Elder Brain looming quite literally over our heads?” Despite his words, his expression was soft in the low light of the room.

“I see one worth fighting for.” She leaned forwards and stole a kiss, but only for a moment, pulling back to leave him wanting more.

“Such a tease, my love.” 

“I learned from the best~” She put on the hint of a flirtatious tone to match his voice. “Anyway… Here. This part next.”

“A scar, darling? Really?” He almost pulled his arm back, like her touch burned the mark deeper into his skin.

“This was not long after we met. I remember worrying that you might lose too much blood if the wound were just a fraction to the left.” Tav dipped the sponge in the warm bathwater again and carefully cleaned the area, rinsing off the soap when she was done. “But that’s not what I think most when I look at it, or any of the other marks that battle has left upon you.”

“Enlighten me, what is it that you see in such a blemish?” Astarion frowned, struggling to see what she meant.

“Endurance. A fight that didn’t end you. A strength that goes beyond what you can lift in your arms.” She sat back a moment, the myriad of scars across her own body clearer to see as she gestured to them. “Something we share, our will to live, and to be more than the world tried to make of us.” 

“Well…I suppose…” He sighed, looking closer at Tav’s form now. Subtle muscles and soft curves, the map of old wounds telling as many stories as his own, and not one of them diminished her beauty in his eyes. “There is some charm to them, maybe.”

She continued to cleanse the sweat and marks of the long days from his body with tender care, her praise like a balm to the bruises on his soul. She almost paused when it was time to move around to his back. “Is it alright if I…?”

“There is nobody I trust more to resist the urge to put a dagger between my ribs.” He mimicked the motion playfully with empty hands as he spoke. “Oh no need to be so serious, my darling, the point is that I trust you. Completely.” 

The vampire shifted, turning his back to her. The view was always a painful one - he was free, but the marks remained, the knowledge of the pain in their making broke her heart if she let those thoughts back in. “Even this,” she began carefully, “has never once diminished your worth.”

Tension rose in his shoulders, even as she tried to massage it away. “A poem of subjugation is all that is, a beautiful lie that promised power.”

“And yet you are more powerful than ever, you didn’t let the lie consume you. How about this instead.” She put the sponge aside, and began carefully tracing her own pattern across his back as if overwriting the scars his past had left. “I’ll write my own verse for you, let it erase the old one.”

“What is it exactly that you’re writing?” A hint of worry tinted the curiosity in his voice as it dropped a little quieter than it had been before. 

She leaned forward and whispered close in his ear. “My wedding vows.”

#bg3ficfeb #baldurs gate 3 #astarion #astarion x tav #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 #fanfic #a tav's guide #hurt/comfort #body worship #angst #scars #a vow beneath the scars #overwriting the past with something beautiful

[phoenixyfriend]

I've got two modern AU concepts featuring Anidala having an amicable divorce (standard Gay Realization reason).

Concept 1: They are married and divorced before the twins are conceived. Anakin isn't interested in money, and Padme is very generous, so their main conflict is What To Do With The Dogs.

Entire shortfic would circle around them debating who gets Artoo and Threepio.

They come to an agreement and visitation rights etc, and then it's revealed that Anakin isn't even planning on moving out yet.

Concept 2: Anakin and Some Guy are hooking up. Things are steamy. The phone rings.

"Wait, wait no, slow down, stop, it's my ex-wife."

"Your ex-w--wait, you're--?"

"Padme! Hey, I'm a bit busy, is it an emergency?"

It is! Anakin and Padme have a 'one week with dad, one week with mom' schedule set up for the twins. This morning was supposed to be Anakin's last for a cycle, and Padme would be picking them up after pre-school.

Unfortunately, Padme's come down with some kind of flu. She, very reasonably, does not want to pass it on to the kids, and explains that she knows it's her turn, but could Anakin keep them at his for a few more days?

Obviously, Anakin agrees. He attempts to find his pants. Hot guy in the bed is like 'but… but… we were doing a thing…' and is mostly ignored because It's Babies.

Padme tells him that Sabe's leaving early today so they don't risk her getting it either (they've barely interacted today), and Sabe lives close enough to Anakin that she can pick the kids up on her way and drop them off.

In two hours. Anakin would not have needed his pants yet anyway. He realizes this suddenly. He and Padme say goodbye, Anakin starts thinking about what to do for Kiddo Dinner, and hot guy coughs and asks if he should just… go?

(Anakin would like to finish up the Sexy Encounter before he has to reenter dad mode, actually.)

#Past Anidala #Anakin Skywalker #Padme Amidala #Skywalker Twins #star wars #sw prequels #phoenix talks

[mayalaen]

what i'm working on

Somebody asked me to post titles and summaries of what I'm working on. I don't think they expected THIS much but I always have tons of stuff in my working folder.

In His Image - (ST) the Steddie genderswap fic I'm currently posting.

CONventional Psychopathy Part 4 - (SPN) Dean takes Cas to Gadreel's loft to recover. Also working on Part 5, 6, and 7.

How I Spent My Summer Probation - (ST) Eddie fic with disciplinarian Uncle Wayne and Papa Hopper

OCF - (ST) omegas in a correctional facility for a certain Fishie

Eyeless (named after the Slipknot song) (Fargo/ST) Gator from Fargo in prison with Billy and Eddie fic

Bullseye Studios - (ST) a pr0n studio just outside Hawkins

The Billionaires' Club - (SPN AU) Billionaires are outlawed and once they hit $1b in assets, they're assigned a caretaker who disciplines them and keeps them from being evil.

?Vampires? - (SPN/AtS/BtVS) Dean gets turned by Spike and has his entire life changed in the blink of an eye.

?Interrogation Room? - (ST) shortfic? where Hopper decides Eddie, Billy, and Steve have gotten into too much trouble and need a firm hand so he spanks them in the interrogation room but oops Billy likes it!

?Eddie Has Siblings? - (ST) Eddie has an abusive older brother and sister. Wayne got him away from them, but they've come to Hawkins to visit baby brother.

Caging the Mongoose Timestamp - (SPN) Dean fucks up. Bad. And on purpose for attention. So he gets spanked right in an interrogation room in The Post Office by Dembe and Cooper.

A Faceless Demon - (SPN) KinkDotCom fusion with Van helping Dean let go of some shit.

You Live Here Now - (Fargo/ST) Munch doesn't blind Gator. He drops him off at a ranch in Hawkins, Indiana instead where Hopper, Billy, and a few others help rehabilitate him against his will.

?Eddie & The Basketball Team? - (ST) Eddie gets into a bad situation at a party. Billy's there to pick up the pieces.

??? - (ST/HDM) Future fic with daemons where Billy is a firefighter living with an abusive partner but his daemon thinks that paramedic guy is a much better partner, and she also thinks his daemon is hot.

Billy Has to Ask - (ST) Max is sick of Billy's shit. El scares the shit out of him and from then on he mostly does what Max says. If he fucks up, she makes him go to an adult and ask for a spanking.

??? - (X-Files/SPN) Sam and Dean are undercover but so are Skinner and Mulder. Skinner doesn't like Dean's attitude or Sam's arguments, so he puts them under FBI care. Namely himself.

?Threesome Soulmate AU? - I don't even know what fandom I want this in but it's an idea that's been stuck in my head for years and wants to come out. An aro, an ace, and a demi are all very reluctant soulmates.

Long Distance Call - (SPN) Dean's an omega without an alpha until their newest roommate, Pamela Barnes, moves in.

I'm probably missing a few, but there ya go!

#writing is hard #about me #long post #wips

[allthelittlecreepycrawlies]

Shortfic

Fairytale Not-Yet-Sangyao where Meng Yao meets a (helpful) stranger.

--------------

Meng Yao is out doing the shopping for his mother. 

Normally they go together, as it’s the one chore that gives them time to themselves, but his mother’s health has taken a turn for the worse, and she has exhausted herself convincing the madam to give her the night off.

He has just finished purchasing some fruit -not of great quality, but he has to take what he can get- for her when an umbrella blows into him and he reflexively catches it to keep it from knocking his basket to the dirt under his feet.

"Ah! Thank you! I've chased that all across town, and my brother would be so cross with me if I lost it!"

The speaker is a boy younger than him. He's dressed in the fine clothes of a gentry son, with elaborate braids in his hair-

-but what trips Meng Yao up is his eyes. 

He's never seen anyone with eyes the color of pale jade before, and they're so distracting that he hands the umbrella back without thinking.

The boy beams at him, then digs something out of his sleeve. "For you!" he says, pressing the tiny pouch into Meng Yao's hands. "It'll bring you a lot of money if you sell it to the alchemist three streets north, or you can keep it and it'll summon help if you're in trouble! Many thanks again!"

The boy and his umbrella are gone before Meng Yao can regain his wits. Blinking and dazed, he opens the pouch to find an entire gold tael and a strange black stone that turns a rainbow of colors when he holds it up to the sunlight.

The tael buys more food, a well-made warm cloak, and several weeks’ worth of medicine for his mother, when before he would have been extremely lucky to haggle for enough for a single day. And even then, he still has change left over.

At his mother’s insistence, the rest of the money goes into the hidden savings she has been putting aside for him in the future, and the stone goes into the tiny chest with a broken hinge where they keep what very few remotely valuable things they have.

He finds the stone again when he is packing to leave the brothel for good to go meet his father.

It's warm, almost burning when he holds it in his hand.

He wonders, briefly, if he should have sold it after all. Even if his mother would have objected, it could have bought her more medicine… more time.

But it's too late to dwell on that now, so he tucks it safely into his belt alongside the pouch that contains the pearl his mother had held onto his whole life.

The pearl that turns out to be a fake.

Just like his father's promise to his mother.

As he falls backwards into open air, time seems to slow down.

He has no idea if the stone is fake too, but almost on reflex, he yanks it out of his belt anyway and desperately wills it to save him.

He never hits the stone of the stairs.

Instead, flowers and grasses and… feathers(?) erupt like a carpet beneath him, cushioning his fall.

Above him, his father yells something indistinct in outrage, but the words are quickly drowned out by a cackle of laughter almost like that of a crow, and Meng Yao finds the "carpet" he has landed on is in fact the back of a massive bird that is seemingly made of plants as well as flesh and bone and, yes, feathers.

Only heartbeats (and wingbeats) later, he is gently dumped on the ground in a clearing of the forest outside the city, and the bird vanishes in the same whirl of leaves and feathers it had appeared in. 

In its place is a pretty boy with elaborate braids in his dark hair and eyes the color of pale jade.

#mdzs #jin guangyao #nie huaisang #sangyao #eventually #fanfic

[ruthlesslistener]

📓📓

Alright, since there's two here and I've got Thoughts(tm) on Lurien and Soul Master rivalry again, here's a couple fic concepts that have been living rent free in the back of my brain:

1.) Longfic, rough Ao3 summary:

The new head of the Soul Sanctum had always been an ambitious sort, pushing his way up the ranks with his charisma, ambitions, and overflowing pockets- even Lurien was aware of his infamy, though he had long ago put his schooling days behind him. When he rose to power as headmaster, none were surprised. But what was once an unsavory rumor quickly became an unpleasent reality for the Watcher as the conniving bug set his sights ever higher- by openly announcing his desire to court Lurien himself, drawing the eyes of everyone rich enough to run within his social circles. Even his reputation for reclusion and his mysterious power can't pull Lurien out of this one.

But the Watcher did not earn his title for talent alone, nor is he entirely incapable of trickery in turn. And the longer he plays into the Soul Master's plans, the more horrors lie in wait.

My summary: an au where the Soul Master tries to gain power in the Pale Court by announcing his desire to court and marry Lurien in a party of bored rich assholes with their claws in lots of funding projects. Lurien, trapped by social conventions and political intruigue, has no choice but to accept. However, he's not entirely powerless, and decides to play the game back at him so that he may gain insight into what the Soul Master wishes to achieve. What follows is a long game of fake courting where each tries to win the other, the Soul Master so that he may blind Lurien to the experiments he wishes to commit, and Lurien so that he can figure out his secrets and expose him as a power-hungry maniac. It's enemies fake-dating but instead of them going to lovers, they remain enemies and a lot of murder and blackmailing happens on the side. Also Palewatcher is the endgoal relationship with this one.

Would probably earn an E title for coercion, possible sexual content, and explicit violence (I planned to have Lurien lure SM in by pretending he was receptive and then used that lapse in judgement to kill him). PK luckily was oblivious to this entire mission, otherwise it would have turned into an even greater bloodbath

2.) Shortfic (1-3 chapters or very long drabble), rough Ao3 summary:

Songstress Marissa was not one for tempting fate. She came to Hallownest because she heard of the sore lack of singing talent present in the depths, and profited off said lack where she could get it. She never forgot her humble origins, or how far she wandered before she found her fortune.

So when her dresser-bug goes missing after a concert at the Soul Sanctum, she turns to the most powerful authority that her fame can buy- the mysterious Watcher Lurien.

My summary: Is exactly how it sounds- one of Marissa's team members vanishes after a concert at the Soul Sanctum, and even though she's terrified of him, she decides to use her newfound fame and pretty wings to sneak in a high-priority appointment with Lurien. Her assumptions that he's some omnipotent godlike being (driven by city myths) are, however, quickly shattered once he actually opens his mouth.

Most of the appeal for this fic was honestly just having Lurien meet Marissa, bc Marissa was the reason why I ended up sticking with the butterfly headcanon for him, and I thought it would be funny if they ended up as awkward immigrant buddies bc their species is so rare in Hallownest (Lurien's parents having fled there before he hatched, Marissa arriving herself bc she needed a job and her family's caravan reached a bad streak). The revelation that he was a butterfly would probably come from him recognizing her wing-fluttering patterns as butterfly-specific courtship behaviors (that Marissa used only bc beetles were oblivious and just thought Wing Pretty) and then messing up the deflecting so bad that any doubts he misinterpreted it or was interested in women just flew completely out the window.

#hollow knight #lurien the watcher #lurien the dreamer #soul master #ask game #ask meme #demonicintegrity #fanfic ideas #idk man i just love lurien gaining more friends #and him fucking hating the soul master

[greta-van-chaos]

“You look good with my hand around your throat” with Jake? 👀✨

im getting enemies to lovers with this eee

Warnings | Elusions to sexual content, cursing, choking, slightish degradation, name calling, alcohol consumption

As the party dimmed and fizzled outside you found yourself nursing a beer at the kitchen counter, not caring to listen to the drunk babblings of those still by the campfire. You especially didn't care to listen to Jake talk about... whatever it was the he talked about. It had gotten so bad that you'd called him out for being an asshole in front of everyone, firing back he called you uptight and a buzzkill. You didn't leave because you were at all wounded by his words, you just needed to leave before you decided to throat punch him.

You're pulled out of your thoughts when the sliding door opens and none other than the subject of your loathing struts into the room, empty beer bottle slid between his fingers in a way that makes your thighs press together.

"You having fun alone in here, buzzkill?"

"Shut up, Jake." You snap, turning away from him and pressing your back to the counter. You slug back what's left of your beer and smack it down onto the marbled surface, angrily wiping your mouth and grimacing at the taste.

"Or what? You gonna throw some more lousy punches in hopes that they land? You're absolutely pathetic when it comes to insults."

Despite his venomous words Jake steps away from the fridge and deposits himself in front of you against the sink, handing you a fresh beer.

"Fuck. You." You spit.

"In your wildest dreams." The way he winks at you makes it extremely hard to decide if you'd like to slap that smug look off of his face or feel his smirk pressed against your throat.

"You're the worst, you know that right?" You can't help the small huff of a laugh that escapes you when you think about your predicament. Jake is the farthest thing from bad looking and when you get in your little spats it just serves as a reason for you to find yourself with your hand slipping below the covers late at night.

"Oh is that so?" He's moving closer to you now, closing the distance so that you're trapped against the counter.

"Yeah, you're insufferable."

"You know I love it when you talk dirty to me," He chuckles.

"Not to mention you're a fucking pig."

He hums gripping the edge of the counter on either side of you and bringing his face so his lips are hovering over yours. You shrink away from him, not because you're uncomfortable but because you're worried you'll make a decision soon to be regretted.

"I'm wounded." He pouts, giving a little sigh.

When he moves in even closer, so damn close to breaking the one and only rule you've set out for yourself when it comes to Jake you don't even hate him for it. You can only beg him to keep going.

"Jake--" Without thinking you bring your hands to the open edges of his button down.

"I haven't even touched you yet and you're already squirming." Slowly, Jake traces a hand up the inside of your thigh, just missing where you have dreamed of him venturing for so many nights, to you navel, up your sternum. Finally he lets his palm sit at the base of your throat, fingers just loosely wrapped around your neck. "You look good with my hand around your throat."

Words have escaped you and you can barely think about your actions as you pull him in, closing the short distance and feverishly pressing your lips to his. He kisses you back and matches your fervor, letting his tongue glide into your mouth. The entire world has melted around you, it's only you and Jake, and that's all that matters.

Your name tumbles past his lips when you thread your fingers into his hair to help anchor you as his hands roam your body and you're so unwilling to pull away that when he does a high pitched whine escapes you.

"Let's go upstairs."

subtle smut sentence starters

Short fic requests are now closed. I might start doing one day of the week where I open requests for shortfics and write a ton! What do we think of that?

#ask mars #greta van fleet #gvf #jake kiszka #danny wagner #josh kiszka #sam kiszka #gvf x reader #danny gvf #jake gvf #greta van fleet x reader #josh gvf #sam gvf #jake kiszka x reader

[strawberrystorage]

Indoors - Shortfic

[Stroma!H.G. Wells x GN!Reader]

Warnings: Smut, Overstimulation, Praising Kink, Use of Sex Toys, Handjobs, Edging, Bodily Fluids.

A/N: This is my first ever fic I've written in a LONG while! If there are any mistakes or critiques, please feel free to leave them! They help me improve for future attempts on writing!

!! MINORS DNI !!

He looked so cute like this.

Hands tied behind his back with cuffs, eyes blindfolded by a sleeping mask, his naked body glistening in his own sweat. Chest heaving, squirming eagerly as he pants and whimpers under short breaths. His entire body was lightly shaking like small electric shocks coursed through his veins, feeling you place the vibrator on his frenulum to stimulate his aching cock.

"You look adorable like this, Wells." You giggle deviously, his body jolting up as the sex toy made contact with his hard length.

"Ah...AH-GODS...P-Please-oh!"

"Hm? Close again already, Wells?" You pull the toy away from touching his skin. This instantly made his hips practically lift off the bed to seek any sort of friction.

You smiled to yourself. He's REALLY into this overstimulation and edging game.

"You need to wait until I let you cum, sweetheart. You wouldn't want to ruin the fun, right?" Playing coy would only turn him on when he already knew the rules.

You turned off the vibrator and put it away by the nightstand. Slowly, you move a hand up to his face, feeling his damp and soft skin, cupping his cheek. Your thumb swipes over his lower lip, his tongue darting out to lick your appendage almost immediately to envelope it into his mouth. Swirling his tongue around it and sucking on it gently, like a good mutt. Removing your hand from his mouth to trail it over his chest.

"I-I'll be good. Promise...Anything for you, dear-dearest." The blush dusting his cheeks were so prominent right now, you were desperate to see how good his pleading eyes would match with the look. Keeping your cool, you began pinching his left nipple, rolling it between your index finger and thumb. "U-Use me. Ah-ah...Ah- Feels incredible."

Holding back a chuckle, the image of him giving himself entirely to your being delighted you.

"Let's keep playing some more, baby." Pants and whimpers continued to leave his red-tinted lips.

Opening the drawer of your nightstand, you pulled out a fleshlight and bottle of lube.

You both began getting into this game in the bedroom a little after he found these toys in said drawer, curious to see how they worked. You gladly offered to satisfy his curiosity. Slowly experimenting more and more within very steamy intimate moments, complying to help him learn what couples would engage in at this period of time.

After squirting lube into the rubbery toy, you coated your other hand with a few drops of lube to rub Well's thick dick, elicting a loud whine from him.

"Whu-! What i-is! GHAH- ah... th-is?"

"It's just a little lube to get you ready for me, baby. Now be a good boy and sit still." Your voice was so sultry and sweet to his ears. It made him so weak.

Dipping the tip of his cock inside the entrence of the fleshlight, he let out a shudder, trying his best to control his breathing. It wouldn't take long to have him moaning loudly again.

"My-My dear-est...It feels so go- AHHHnn!!" A shout mixed with a groan came from the deep of his throat as you sank the toy down to the base of his cock, enveloping it entirely inside of the faux wet and tight canal.

The bedroom walls began echoing the obscene sound of his cock and the fleshlight coming in contact at base, leaving a puddle on the bedsheets from the excess lube dripping down his balls. Squelching mixing with uncontrolled wails and whimpers coming from your little pet. You were in total control of his pleasure, and he was loving every second of it.

You carefully leaned over next to him, making sure he could feel your breath on his left ear, gently giving his earlobe a teasing lick before increasing the speed of each pump on his manhood.

"Oh Wells, you're being such a good boy." He only moaned louder, his voice almost hoarse. "I wanna hear it. Say what I wanna hear, sweet boy."

"MMMm-!! I-I..AAH-gh.. I-I'm a good boy! I'm your- OH! good bo-y!! Sweet heavens..."

"Thaaaaat's it. Just keep taking it."

Under the mask, his blindfolded eyes dampened it with his tears. He was beyond overwhelmed and stimulated. Abruptbly, you pull the fleshlight off his cock and replacing it with your own soft hand.

"There, there. You did so good. You deserve a reward, don't you think?"

"PLEASE!! Aaagh-!! PL-PLEASE LET ME CUM- AH!" He was practically thrusting into your hand. Admittedly, you'd punish him for that. But he was already inching the finish line.

"Cum on my hand, my good boy. Make a mess." It took a few more pumps of his wet cock to have him shooting ropes and spurts of cum all over your hand. He kept repeating 'thank you's and 'i love you's' until he was done coming down from his high, completely delirious. Heaving breaths were all he could let out as he slumped down on the bed.

"Good job, my love. I'm so proud." He only kept trying to catch a breath after so much, making you giggle. You leaned over his heaving and shaking body to plant a kiss on his lips, delivering him a treat for his good behavior.

Wiping your hand covered in his spend into a rag, you released him from his binds. Lying down next to him, you kissed each wet corner of his eyes, finally getting to see your favorite shade of green in his irises. He smiled the moment his vision focused on your face again.

This was his favorite part.

#will be in a masterlist #shortfic #hg wells time after time #time after time tv series #freddie stroma #freddie stroma smut

[starlightkun]

➠ word count: 3.9k ➠ warnings: cursing, drinking, i won’t say that they fight but there’s some… adversarial conversations in here ➠ genre: fluff, a smattering of hurt/comfort, a dash of angst, established relationship, former hockey captain sungchan, chronically ill reader (chronic migraines), shortfic in the buzzer beater series (after on needlesticks and other metaphors, before between two palms) ➠ extra info: the reader in this has chronic migraines, which i have. when the reader’s migraines, experiences as a chronically ill person, and thoughts about being chronically ill are described, that is me writing directly from my own life. i am not generalizing the lives of all people with chronic migraines/chronic illnesses, but i am sending all my love to any readers out there living with a chronic illness, and here’s a reminder to go take your meds! ➠ series masterlist

“…That was passive aggressive.”

“Cheers!” Everyone clinked their glasses in unison.

“To being one year migraine free!” You squealed, entirely unable to contain your excitement.

This was officially the longest you’d ever gone in your life without a migraine since your diagnosis seven years ago now, and the last year of that had been without one entirely, according to your tracking app in your phone. When you showed Sungchan the homescreen of the app proudly displaying ‘You’ve been 1 year migraine free!’, your boyfriend had suggested to go out for dinner with some of your friends still in the area to celebrate. You loved the idea, knowing that you never would’ve thought of something like that on your own. Being chronically ill had always been an inconvenience on your best days; something to overcome, to survive; something that made you feel at odds with your own body day in and day out. The thought of celebrating anything tangential to it never struck you.

The other part of what you were doing tonight, though, was most definitely not Sungchan’s idea.

“That’s the fanciest soda I’ve ever seen, Y/N,” Hendery cocked an eyebrow as you took a sip of your brightly colored, layered drink.

“That’s because it’s not,” you replied coyly.

“Then what is it?” Ten questioned. “Because I thought you couldn’t have alcohol.”

“Mocktail?” Mark asked.

“I can’t have it when I’m on my meds, so I skipped them so I could celebrate for once in my adult life,” you admitted. Giving Chenle, who was on your left, a bump with your shoulder, you added, “Chenle helped me out with what to order.”

“Y/N never even drank in high school, so she was a bit clueless,” your best friend confirmed with a snicker.

“Oh, you’re going to be such a lightweight!” Hendery grinned holding up his hand for a high-five.

“Not that you’re not an adult who can make her own decisions…” Ten cautiously prefaced his question. “But are you going to be okay if you skip a dose of your medication? Don’t you like, need that?”

“It was more than one dose,” Sungchan finally spoke up from your right, for the first time since the cheers. “The medications have half-lives of about a week or so. In order to minimize the chance of a reaction, she’s been off them for two weeks.”

The table was quiet for a moment, an awkward silence as you held Sungchan’s eye contact incredulously.

“He’s just upset I decided to celebrate one year migraine-free by doing something that will probably give me a migraine.” You turned back to everyone else, chuckling sheepishly to dissolve the tension. “Which really is a genius move on my part, I’m aware. But I feel like it’s kind of like lactose intolerant people who really love mac and cheese, you know? Except I only do it once every seven years instead of every other day.”

That earned you a loud round of laughter from everyone at the table—save for Sungchan, who remained quiet as he took a sip of his water.

“Pace yourself, baby,” Sungchan murmured, pushing his glass of water over to you. “You have literally no alcohol tolerance, remember?”

“Mmm… you’re right, sorry.” You set your rather delicious drink down to lean down and sip from the straw.

“Buzzkill,” Chenle stuck his tongue out at your boyfriend.

“Bad influence,” Sungchan retorted, moving your hair back so it didn’t fall in the open water cup as you gulped it down.

“I heard that!”

“I didn’t whisper!”

“Alright, you two,” Sicheng cut in from Sungchan’s other side. “This isn’t cute, lighthearted bickering. Chenle, you’re tipsy and Sungchan, you’re not actually upset at Chenle.”

Chenle knocked back the rest of his drink before covering his mouth as he burped. “Sorry, dude.”

“Yeah, sorry, Chenle,” Sungchan sighed. “Let’s get you home, man.”

“Ten and I will take him,” Sicheng offered. “You worry about your girl.”

“I’m…” You paused, squinting your eyes as you evaluated your current state. “It’s weird… it’s kind of like some of the stuff I’ve been on? For my migraines? Like this one I had… it uhm… it did… I can’t think of the word right now… but it made me really stupid.”

“Speech arrest,” your boyfriend filled in for you, rubbing your back. “It didn’t make you stupid, baby, it made it hard for your brain to grab the right word when you would put sentences together. So your neuro reduced your dosage. That was the topiramate.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” you nodded, swaying ever so slightly in your seat. “That’s the stuff that I can’t have with alcohol.”

“Correct.”

You poked the very tip of his nose. “Maybe you should just be my doctor, Channie.”

He grabbed your hand in a gentle hold. “Wrong kind of doctor. And I don’t even have my degree yet.”

“And I’m not a fish…”

He burst into soft chuckles at that. “No, no, you’re not.”

You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol or what, but your stomach was doing flip-flops as you looked at Sungchan’s smile, like you were on your first date again. Scooting your chair closer to his, you snuggled up to his side and rested your head on his shoulder.

“Are you tired, baby?” He asked, his voice tinged with concern. “Ready to go home?”

“We can go home, I don’t care,” you shrugged. “But I’m not tired.”

“Then what are you doing?”

“I just remembered that you’re my boyfriend, so I can do this like… whenever I want…” You clutched his arm to your chest.

“I can’t believe you’re both dopey, snuggly, cuddly drunks,” Ten commented from across the table, shaking his head. “I never want to see both of you intoxicated at the same time.”

“Yeah, I think God designed this perfectly, actually, so that you two can never be drunk together,” Hendery added, still picking at his food.

“He does work in mysterious ways.” Chenle put his hands together as if he were praying, making the others break out into snickers.

“Anyway, we’re about done for tonight. Everybody have a safe ride home that needs one?” Sungchan asked, pointing around to your friends. After getting a round of yeses and thumbs-ups, he encouraged you to your feet. You were stable, but there was no way you could have been doing any obstacle courses anytime soon.

Your friends took the next hour or so to say goodbye to you, all of them giving you hugs goodbye and one final congratulations in turn before passing you off to Sungchan to lead you out to the car. You and your boyfriend stopped by the hostess stand up front for him to pay off the tab for your whole table before you could finally leave for the night.

In the car, he helped you maneuver into the passenger seat, buckled you in, and pressed a kiss to your forehead before walking around to the driver’s side. You leaned your seat back so you could curl up comfortably and stare at Sungchan as he drove, one hand on the wheel and the other on your knee as always.

“Are you mad at me?” You whispered, hating that your voice was already wavering.

Sungchan sighed, not even needing to ask what you meant. “Look, baby, obviously, I would rather you not have stopped taking the medication that prevents you from going through awful, horrible pain so that you could drink one time in order to celebrate that very same medication working so well that you hadn’t experienced that pain for a whole year but… I get that it’s your health and your life and you made an educated decision knowing the risks.”

“…That was passive aggressive.”

“You’re still a bit tipsy, baby. We can talk about it after you’ve slept it off, and slept off the hangover, and slept off the migraine that you’re definitely going to get, and the rebound headache that you’ll probably get too.”

“No. You say that you get that it’s my decision, but you clearly have an opinion on it. You’re my boyfriend, I value your opinion. So go ahead. Right now.”

“I just…” He took a deep breath. “I just don’t get the sudden interest in drinking, now. You never seemed to have an issue with being sober during undergrad because of your medication. Trust me, you’re really not missing out on anything.”

“Exactly, you’ve done it, so you know it’s not a big deal, because you have that experience.” You crossed your arms over your chest. “I never got that. You heard Chenle; I never drank in high school because I figured I’d have plenty of time to drink responsibly when I was the legal age. And then I got diagnosed with these fucking migraines the same year, and got started on all this medicine that reacts with alcohol. And the whole time I have people who do drink reassuring me that I’m really not missing out on anything, all the while drinking right in front of me, constantly. Every time we go out to dinner, beers in the fridge, wine on the counter, mimosas at brunch, it’s everywhere, and yet I’m supposed to believe that I’m not missing out on anything?!”

Sungchan bit his lip. “I’m sorry—”

“Hold on, I’m not done.”

“Okay.”

“And I don’t care that people do drink around me. Like, I don’t want you to stop keeping alcohol around the apartment after this just because of me, Sungchan,” you added pointedly. “I just wish people wouldn’t fucking lie to me about enjoying it, acting like they’re making me feel better. Like, I don’t think you have to drink alcohol to be an adult, but when you’re an adult who has had that choice taken away from them by some outside thing instead of making the decision for yourself, it’s a lot fucking different. And I just… having it happen at the same time as my diagnosis… I know my neuro said that they were chronic and it was a lifelong condition, but before it really sank in as to what that meant, and how long my entire life really was, I had this stupid little daydream about being like a real grown-up and going out for drinks with my grown-up friends to celebrate some grown-up achievement like a promotion or something. That I’d be off of all the stupid medication.”

There were a few beats of still air in the car before Sungchan spoke up. “Are you…?”

“No, one more thing.”

“Alright.”

“I know you care for me, Channie, I do. If there is one thing you have shown me in the past three years, it is that you love me, all of me, in sickness and in health, and it has been more often than not, in sickness.” You squeezed his hand that was still overtop your knee. “You know my medications and conditions better than I do at this point. Like, I’m glad you’re getting a degree in molecular biology and are studying a fish, because I think if you actually became a human doctor, you would dedicate yourself to figuring out how to swap our central nervous systems to take my migraines and put them on yourself.”

He seemed to consider this for a moment, then nodded.

“Truly, I understand that that is how much you love me and want me to be well and never be in physical pain again. And I love and appreciate you for that so, so much. I know that it hurts you, on the inside, to see me in pain. It hurts me to see you in pain, too. Remember when you got the flu last year and had to be hospitalized for two days?” You squeezed your eyes shut against the awful memory. “I got a stress migraine and didn’t even tell you until now because I knew that would’ve made you feel worse. But I need you to understand that sometimes I’m looking at the bigger picture when it comes to this stuff. I’m going to have my migraines for the rest of my life. And maybe that means I go thirty years without one. Maybe it means I get one a month. Recently, I got a whole year. But there will always be the risk of one. Like, that’s just something I’ve had to accept, and you are going to have to accept.” You poked his arm, making him pout for a second. “So, the way I see it, is that I need to strike the right balance between preventing migraines, and living a life I actually enjoy. And part of living a life I actually enjoy includes doing stuff I’ve never done before, like drinking, and doing it in a way that decreases other risks as well, like medication interactions. And yeah, that put me at a higher risk for migraines, but I’m okay with that. I can deal with migraines, I’ve dealt with hundreds of them before. One more in exchange for a new experience was something I was willing to do this time. Do you get where I’m coming from now, baby?”

Having finally been prompted to talk, Sungchan answered, “Yeah, I understand. I should’ve tried to talk to you about this and see what it was actually about instead of just assuming. I’m sorry I was a dick at your celebratory dinner that I suggested in the first place.”

“I want you to be concerned for me, Channie.” You brought his hand up to kiss the back of it. “Need my guy to make sure I don’t do anything too stupid while trying to enjoy my life. But maybe in the future we can both approach it from a more conversational and inquisitive angle than we did this time, hm?”

“Yeah, that’s a good idea.” He glanced over at you to pat your head, smiling fondly. “My girl’s so smart, even when she’s tipsy and pissed off at me. I got so lucky.”

“I’m probably like, only a little buzzed right now… we spent a long time saying bye to everyone. And you made sure I ate, and drank water, and paced myself.”

“Guess we’ll find out in the morning.” He clicked his tongue teasingly, taking your hand in his again.

“Well…” You popped an over-the-counter headache reliever for the first time in years. “Now I get why they call it a migraine hangover.”

Sungchan chuckled, setting your breakfast down in front of you. “And how does a real hangover compare to a migraine hangover?”

“Eh,” you shrugged, picking up your fork. “My body feels yuckier, but my brain is working a lot better. Like, I’m pretty sure if I saw a puddle right now, I wouldn’t, in the heat of the moment, call it a ‘pile of water’ with my whole chest.”

Your boyfriend burst into laughter. “Pile of water?”

“Yeah, that one happened in one of Dr. Son’s classes,” you sighed, shutting your eyes and holding your head in one of your hands lazily. “Socratic discussion, so the entire class was focused on me and my insightful commentary on what I thought the pile of water represented in the story.”

“I’m sure it was very profound, baby.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you scoffed, opening your eyes just enough to get your next bite of food onto your fork and lift it to your mouth.

The next day, you were more than recovered from your first hangover of your life, but worse off than before. Somehow, in that year without a migraine, you’d forgotten how bad they were. And now, they were back with a vengeance. You couldn’t, in the moment, think what number this would be on a comparative scale to all your others, but it sure as fuck felt like a 9/10 at least.

The blackout curtains in your bedroom were drawn shut, you had an eye mask pulled on, your ear plugs in, and had all of your usually lovely scent plug-ins removed from the room. It felt like the slightest sensory input set off gunfire in your brain, and you would let out an immediate, visceral yelp.

It had started soon after you woke up, meaning that Sungchan came home from the gym to find you curled up under the covers clutching your head, unable to even move to get your rescue meds—the ones that never worked in the first place. He’d been the one to shut the blackout curtains, find your long-unused eye mask, fetch your earplugs from your go bag, take out any artificially and/or strongly scented thing from the room, and prepare all of your medication for you to take in one blind, desperate gulp. He didn’t need to ask how you were doing—obviously, bad.

He climbed back in on his side of the bed, the two of you having worked out that you’d let him know if you needed more or less physical contact during some of the migraines. You always liked having him near, to feel less alone, but sometimes the extra sensations on your body just ended up being too much to handle in the moment. Whether it was body heat, or clothes wrinkling in the wrong places, or hair poking you, sometimes you were just extra on edge, and it did more harm than good.

Right now, you were laying on your front facing him, face buried into your pillow, one of your hands clasped with his and your joined hands cradled to your chest, a comforting, grounding pressure on your sternum. The only indication you had that Sungchan wasn’t asleep was when his thumb would run along yours every so often, a silent reassurance. You’d squeeze his hand back, letting him know you were still hanging in there, you didn’t need anything more, just him.

You must have eventually gone to sleep, as you were now waking up. The eye mask was slightly askew, and you rubbed at your eyes as you pulled it off all the way.

“Morning, beautiful,” Sungchan whispered, then pressed a button on his watch, lighting up the time for a split second. “Or, 6:00 p.m. How are you feeling?”

“Like shit,” you groaned. Your earplugs had fallen out of your ears somewhere, but you would find those later. “But the migraine is finally fucking gone.”

“Good.”

“Ugh.” You dropped your head back down to your pillow. “I can’t believe that migraine lasted two and a half days.”

“I was going to carry you to the ER myself if you woke up and still had it.” Sungchan sat up, and one look at his face told you he was serious. “I can’t believe I let you talk me out of it after you hit the 36-hour mark last night.”

“I told you I just needed to sleep it off.”

“Yeah, for 20 hours straight.”

You winced, and the reminder of how long you had been out seemed to suddenly snap your body back to reality all at once. “I need to pee. Also, I’m hungry. And thirsty. Holy shit, my breath stinks. Actually, my everything stinks— Oh my God I need to pee!”

Quite literally jumping out of bed, your knees immediately buckled, and you dropped unceremoniously to the floor. “Fuck!”

“Woah, baby, you okay?” Sungchan scrambled to follow you, coming to kneel down beside you.

“Yeah, I’m fine, Channie,” you reassured him with a sheepish smile, slowly sitting up. “My muscles were not ready for that.”

“You were just passed out for 20 hours straight,” he reminded you, tenderly fixing some of your hair. “And had a migraine for two and a half days. Take it easy for a bit, baby. And you’re about to start weaning back on your meds. Your body’s going to have a lot to get used to again for a while.”

“Those weren’t full doses you gave me earlier?” You asked curiously.

“Hell no,” he snorted. “Do I look like an idiot?”

“That’s what I would’ve done.”

“You’re fully weaned off all of them. Starting back at your full doses would just make all the side effects that you were managing even worse. It might even give you some that you didn’t have the first time you were taking them.”

Your mouth silently formed an ‘Oh,’ and you grabbed Sungchan’s arm. “Thank you, Channie. I… You shouldn’t have to… Thank you. I love you, and I would kiss you right now, but like I said, I really need to brush my teeth.”

He leaned forward to press a kiss to your forehead, and when he pulled back, there was a warmth glowing in his brown eyes. “I love you, too, baby. And hey, we’re a team, okay? We’ve got to do all this stuff as a team, and that includes health. Your health and mine. You’re not only in charge of taking care of you and I’m only in charge of taking care of me, that’s not how it works. That would be so unfair. Imagine if you never came with me when I got my flu shots.”

“Who would hold your hand?”

“Exactly.”

“But I feel like holding your hand once a year isn’t really comparable to this…”

“My point is that we’re a team, which means we share the tough stuff with each other, so everything isn’t on one person’s shoulders. You have a chronic illness, baby. You have to deal with all the pain, and medication side effects, and everything that I can never take from you no matter how much I wish I could. So let me pick up your meds from the pharmacy, and find you fun new band-aids for your injection, and keep a snack on me since you never will, and learn as much as I possibly can about this.”

“Okay, I get your point.” You pulled your knees to your chest, resting your chin on them to look at him. “How do you always know the right stuff to say to make me feel better, Channie?”

“I don’t always. I didn’t the other night at dinner,” he pointed out.

“Yeah, but I mean, you usually do when it comes to this stuff, with my migraines. You always…” you sniffed, your vision watering and growing blurry. “You always say all this nice stuff, and it’s not just talk, you really mean it too, I see it in how you act, what you do. Just… how are you… in love with me?”

“Y/N, baby,” Sungchan scooted over to take you into his arms, fully enveloping you with his body as you suddenly devolved into hiccupping sobs into his shirt. “You’re exhausted, right?”

You nodded against him, feeling how absolutely drained you were to your very core, despite the 20 straight hours you had just slept.

He hugged you even tighter to him. “Listen. I’m not going to list out a bunch of reasons that I love you, because I think that’ll just do more harm than good. So I’ll tell you this: I love you because I do. Because everything single thing I’ve ever found out about you, good or bad, has only made me more crazy about you.”

You started crying harder, clinging to him tightly, and he rubbed your back all through it.

“I-I’m so tired, Channie,” you mumbled into his collar, bunching the fabric of his shirt in your hand.

“I know, baby, I know.”

“I really need to pee…”

“Yeah, let’s go.”

➠ next | series masterlist | blog masterlist

#sungchan x reader #riize x reader #sungchan imagines #riize imagines #sungchan #sungchan imagine #riize imagine #nct x reader #nct imagine #nct imagines #jung sungchan #i: sungchan #f: garbage goal #s: buzzer beater #writing #text #mine #bias tag #*100

[matrixdragon]

Final Fantasy XIV shortfic and shenanigans under the line.

Standing outside her front gate, Nadia West considered the sight before her, feeling a headache coming on. It was not an unfamiliar experience, she had to admit. On far, far too many occasions, she’d discover that her friends (A term she used very loosely at this moment) had done some sort of redecorating, often in a bizarre manner designed to draw a reaction from her.

This time however, the ‘surprise’ couldn’t even wait until she entered the house. The moment she’d teleported to the personal aetheryte point, she’d been greeted by new fences around her property. Fences made of chocolate, with icing running along the top, and ice cream cones serving as fence posts. And beyond that… Her house was made of Gingerbread, with more icing and candy canes to complete the look. She could even see what looked like giant strawberries on the roof.

“Alice,” she sighed at last. “It has to be her. This is entirely in line with her sense of humor.” Sighing again, she went through the front gates, passed around the fountain, and approached the front door, before pausing. To her surprise, the front door was unlocked, and slightly open, and after a moment she realized she could hear voices inside. Familiar voices.

Silently, she moved closer, peeking through the gap, before her eyes widened at the two unfamiliar yet familiar Viera women in rather tight fitting underclothes, both looking over themselves. “Well, you’re still taller,” the purple-haired Viera noted idly as she turned, admiring her reflection in the mirror. “Although the difference isn’t quite as extreme as it used to be.”

“Elezen and Viera are usually similar in size, unlike Miqo’te,” her friend said with a gentle laugh, brushing a strand of green hair back, only to be reminded of how her ears had moved. “And you were always tiny even by those standards.” Satisfied her hair was at least mostly under control, she turned her attention to adjusting clothes for how her proportions had shifted. “Which at least means my clothes will require only minor tailoring. Unlike you.”

Considering the way her blouse and shorts barely managed to contain her, the woman winced. “Yeah, that’s going to be expensive, even if I do most of the work myself.” Running a hand down her waist and over her hips, she raised an eyebrow. “Still, I think the Neo-Ishgard styling will suit me very well now…”

“What in the seven hells?!” Nadia finally managed, catching both womens attention. Opening the door the rest of the way, she stepped into the room and looked between the pair in disbelief. “What did you two do?!”

To her annoyance, the smaller Viera gave her a playful smile that proved it was definitely Alice. “Oh hi Nadia,” she said in a pseudo-innocent tone of voice. “Your house is gingerbread!”

Closing her eyes for a moment, the Hyur made herself take a deep breath. “Yes, I noticed that, thank you, and yes, we’ll get to that in a moment. But I was referring to the fact that both of you are now different species than you were yesterday.”

Alice shrugged, clearly enjoying the fact that Nadia’s eyes couldn’t help but follow the motion. “It’s not like it’s the first time I’ve done this,” she pointed out.

“Ah yes, your Au Ra ‘phase’,” Rivienne laughed.

“Just… why and how? Please?” Nadia begged, feeling the limits of her patience quickly approach.

Taking pity on their friend, Riv guided Nadia to a nearby chair. “The ‘how’ of it is with Fantasia potions, obviously. Nothing else can manage this so flawlessly. It turned out you had several in storage here. As for the why?” At that, the woman couldn’t help but shrug. “After everything we’ve been through lately, it seemed like a bit of harmless fun.”

Nadia stared at her for a moment, processing the fact that the two of them had drunk rare, body-reshaping potions solely for fun. “I think I’m most worried about the fact they were potions in my storeroom,” she said at last. “I don’t remember the last time I organized that. I’m not sure I ever did… There’s crap we salvaged from Tam-tara and Aurum Vale in there! And you just drank it?!”

Folding her arms under her breasts, Alice met the dumbfounded look with a slightly unimpressed one. “Besides the fact both of us have quite a bit of alchemical expertise, the storeroom is actually very well organized. It has to be, with how often I’ve redecorated around here. Did you seriously never notice?”

“The last time I paid serious attention to the storeroom, you’d left a coffin you salvaged off the Void Ark in there!” Nadia shot back. “There was a Namazu hiding in it!”

“...Okay, that’s a fair point,” Alice admitted, blushing, while Rivienne giggled.

Leaning back in her chair, Nadia took a moment to collect her thoughts. “So you turned yourselves into bunnies. Could be worse I suppose. Could be Lopporits."

"We couldn't handle that much fluff," Alice said.

"Also, even Alice would protest being that short," Riv added.

"Oi!"

Snickering at the pout on Alice's face, Nadia looked the pair over. “So, what’s it like?”

“Mostly it’s familiar,” Riv admitted, “although my ears feel odd.”

“It’s because they moved so far,” Alice noted. “Mine don’t feel that different, just longer and I’m oddly aware of it. For me, the issue is my sense of balance is off.” Nadia looked at her friends chest with a deadpan expression. “My tail is gone now!”

The green haired Viera giggled again. “That would count as well, I admit. You were always rather endowed for a Miqo’te, but it’s much more… obvious now.”

“Meany,” Alice said, sticking her tongue out at her friend. “Soooo… Want to join us on the bunny side Nadia? There’s more potions. Come, embrace the fluff…”

“I say this with full awareness of my reputation and track record as the Limsan of the group, but no, I’m not going to drink that.” Smirking, Nadia gestured at her legs. “I’ve put far too much work into perfecting and maintaining this to resort to alchemical assistance now.” Both of the Viera laughed at that, conceding the point. “Still, while I have you here Alice, GINGERBREAD?!” she growled, glaring up at her.

Unfortunately, Alice met the glare with complete unconcern, as was usually the case when she renovated her friends house without telling her. “It looks quite good, doesn’t it?”

Riv raised a hand. “I came up with the color scheme!” she announced.

“Of course you did…”

#Final Fantasy XIV #alice romanova #Mays writing #Nadia made the mistake of giving her a key

[devilfish-cowboy]

The ornamental gun of a Celestial Dragon. It's made of solid gold and silver, patterned with intricate carvings and royal emblems.

Wyatt beheld the weapon in his hands, feeling its weight and studying the ornate filigree patterns worked into the grip and barrel. He was quite the expert on firearms and immediately recognized it for what it was, an ornamental single-barreled pistol designed for a celestial dragon. They were designed as symbols of power and prestige rather than for combat, though they could still serve as intimidation should the owner wish it, or deadlier use if threatened and the body guards failed in their duty. The last time Wyatt saw such a thing was when he was in Sabaody some years ago. To avoid unwanted attention he had been in disguise, and things were working smoothly until he saw a world noble arrive with his entourage at the grove he was in. The he quickly hid behind a building but kept his eyes on the spectacle. There was a shout, and seconds after a woman was laying on the ground bleeding profusely but daring not to make a sound as the noble shouted something unintelligible, tendrils of smoke rising from the gleaming barrel of his gun.

“6/10. I ain’t no fan of those bubble-encased blue-bloods but no weapon’s to blame for th’ owner and I reckon fine craftsmanship when I see it.”

#Fun fact since Wyatt is based on Striker this could work as a reference #to the harvest moon episode where Striker has an ornate angelic weapon in his possession #wyatt ryder #rp meme #heavenlyborne #this turned out to be an entire shortfic #wyatt doesnt like world nobles but he doesnt want to be a bleeding heart either

[dr4kenlvr]

love at first meeting

pairing: mikey sano x fem!reader

genre: fluff

request: hey nana !! may i please req a fluffy shortfic with mikey, with fem!reader? like a getting together fic, maybe y/n meets him because he protected her or smth idk i just would like some fluff 😅 ty, and i really like your work !!

a/n: hi fae!! thanks for requesting something from me, it means a lot! <3

cw: creepy man, reader gets followed, man grabs her wrist for a bit, nothing graphic! please let me know if i missed anything that may need a warning!

you never really favoured walking home alone at night. at a young age, your family drilled the idea of being extra precautious at night into your mind. today though, you had some important errands to run and there was no one else to accompany you. what you weren't expecting though, was for them to take the whole damn day.

stepping out of the grocery store, you carried three- may i add, heavy- bags. with an exhausted sigh from the day's long activites, you plugged in your earphones and began your long-awaited walk home.

a few cars drove by, and you could hear the loud buzzing of cicadas, even through your earphones. you trudded through the empty streets, arms beginning to ache from the groceries' weight. you stopped on the sidewalk, placing the bags down on the ground to shake your arms awake.

"need help with that, sweetheart?"

the unfamilar voice made you slightly jump. you turned your head to meet eyes with the person. in the faint fluorescent light, you could make out what was a man who looked like he was in his mid thirties. he stood tall, and broad, loaming over your figure as he took a couple steps closer to you. wait, was he the man that you saw in the grocery store? had he followed you this entire time? you gulped, opening your mouth to respond before he interrupted you with a chuckle.

"i asked if you needed help, darling."

you stammered, "n-no. i'm alright, thank you." you bent to pick up your bags, but a quick hand shot out to grab your wrist. "excuse me, what are you-"

he shushes you, his grip on you tightening ever so slightly.

"little girls like you shouldn't be out alone so late anyways-"

"she isn't out alone," another voice called out, "she's with me, now let her go."

you looked over with wide eyes at the young boy on a motorcycle who halted his bike to help you. he must've noticed something seemed off as he was driving by. the boy looked about your age, blonde hair shagging around his face with deep, black eyes staring holes into the man next to you. speaking of the man, his grip never failed and his face turned into a sour scowl.

"hah? what's with the face," the boy tilted his head, "i said, let her go." you just stared at him, the look on his face grew even more menacing.

the man hesistated, before letting go of your wrist with a grunt. "fine, take your bitch and get the hell out of here." he taunts before walking off with slugged shoulders. you watched him walk away, exhaling a breath you didn't know you were holding.

"hey, you alright?" the blonde said, getting off his bike to pick up your bags for you.

you immediately bent down to help him, "yes! thank you, so much, truly."

he smiled, "don't mention it, guys like that are creepy. you need to be more careful." you nod, shifting your feet on the gravel awkwardly. "hmm, why don't i drive you home? it's late, and i want to make sure no one else bothers you the rest of the way."

"that's very kind of you! but i don't want to take up anymore of your time.. um.."

"mikey, my name's mikey." he tells you.

"mikey, i don't want to waste your time. and i wouldn't know how to repay you."

he tsked, smile growing wider at your consideration. "please, i want to. hop on, i've got an extra helmet." with a moment's worth of hesitation, you reluctantly got on his bike and thanked him again. he asked for your name, which you instantly gave.

after making sure you're all set, he starts the engine and kicks off the ground with his foot. the drive is silent, but all you can hear is the sound of your heartbeat through your chest. your fingers are lightly rested on his waist, and his hair smells like sweet strawberries. you shyly look away everytime he glances back at you. he seemed to have noticed this because of the growing smirk he wore. when the two of you arrived at your home, he assisted you with your helmet.

"thank you, again, so so much," you bowed slightly to show your gratitude, "is there anyway i could repay you? perhaps some money?" you offered.

he laughed, and with a wave of his hand, he tells you that repayment it's not an issue. but you kept insisting.

"well, if you really want to repay me," he started and you nod again, "you could give me one of the snacks in those bags of yours." he grinned. "got any doriyaki?"

you smiled widely, having been thankful that you indeed, bought some doriyaki from the store. they were originally going to be for you as a late night snack, but you could sacrifice that for him.

now at your door, you watched him drive off with the dessert in his mouth, waving to you once more. you closed the door, happy to finally be home peacefully. but if anything, you wish you would be able to see this mikey once more.

taglist: @dai-tsukki-desu <3 let me know if you want to be added to my taglist! either through asks or dm!

#mikey sano x reader #mikey sano fluff #mikey sano x reader fluff #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers x reader fluff #tokyo revengers fluff #mikey x reader #mikey x reader fluff #mikey fluff #manjiro x reader #manjiro x reader fluff #manjiro fluff #manjiro sano x reader #manjiro sano x reader fluff #manjiro sano fluff #tokyo revenges oneshot #mikey oneshot #mikey sano oneshot #request

[champion-prism]

PRISM’s BACK!!

I want in on the Prism writing! :3 because your stuff is amazing

Uhhh Idr play much, but Simeon is kind of a babe. Can you write some nsfw Simeon? 🥺👉🏻👈🏻 idk headcanons or sum of when he starts feeling a little ✨hornee✨ in public

stream back in black by acdc

-----

Simeon x GN!Reader: Getting horny in public

NSFW headcanons + NSFW shortfic under cut

-Disgraceful.

-Simeon is annoyed at himself, annoyed at his lack of self control, and mildly worried that close proximity to the Seven Deadly Sins might be having a corrupting effect on him.

-Not that he has anything against attraction, of course. It is necessary, it is a form of love, et cetera.

-But here? Now? With the entire student council seated around him, the very Prince of the Devildom talking about diplomacy with the Celestial Realm no less...

-...and you sitting across from him, seemingly unaware of your shirt having too many buttons undone.

-For the sake of his dignity, he focuses on Diavolo and Lucifer, eyes turned away from you,,,till he feels a foot nudge against his.

-His head jerks slighlty in your direction, assuming you had done it unintentionally- but your foot doesn't move, rather, it presses on against his, and you're not looking at him directly but there's a soft smile on your lips and he's certain from the angle of your face that you can see him in your peripheral vision.

-He pushes his foot against yours to counter you, and finds it turning into a little game as you both nudge each other, until your foot moves higher. Up his leg.

-He's sudden to excuse himself to the bathroom, not looking at you as he rushes past, dick uncomfortably and embarrassingly hard.

-------------------------------------------------------------

He's splashing cold water on his face when you walk in, locking the bathroom door.

Why hadn't he locked the door? He should've, he should have anticipated that you'd follow him, that your unbuttoned shirt and wandering foot were deliberate, and not the innocent actions he was willing to write them off as.

You come up to stand behind him, wrapping your arms around his narrow toned waist. He's staring at the mirror, transfixed. The angel blue of his eyes seems to remind him that lust of this sort, this uncontrollable, lecherous sort, is a sin he should be disavowing, but he can both see and feel your soft hands gently feeling up the muscle of his exposed sides, one hand toying with the waistband of his pants.

You bite his shoulder gently as your hand tugs his pants down, watching his eyes widen in the mirror.

He should stop you, he should stop you, but he's so embarrassingly turned on by the fact that the student council meeting is in session, and both of you have snuck away for this.

His cock is free, standing upright, its reflection mocking him. He whispers your name, feels your mouth curve into a smile against his skin. Your hand wraps around his length, squeezing gently, thumb running circles over his damp tip.

Precum beads on his head, and he bites his lower lip as you pump slightly, pressing open mouthed kisses on his neck and shoulders.

He can't stop watching his own reflection- an angel, part of his Celestial clothes pooled around his feet, cock out and being stroked and squeezed by a human hand- and he moans, grateful that the bathroom is down the hall and away from the meeting room.

You're quiet, but your expression is devious as you begin to pump harder, nipping at his skin while Simeon watches himself be pleasured in the mirror, rutting his hips against your hand. Your other hand moves to pinch his ass and he whimpers, not knowing how he's going to pray for forgiveness after letting you do this to him.

After wanting you to do this to him.

The pleasure builds as Simeon pants, letting little moans out here and there, eyes widening when he feels his orgasm building. You must have figured as much from his flushed face, and you speed up your movements, one hand pumping his length and the other squeezing his balls.

Simeon cums all over your hand and the sink, hips jerking and eyes clenching shut as you watch his hips jerking against your hand, his own hands clutching his cape for dear life and you pump him through the last few waves of his release.

You let him go, and he staggers back and leans against the wall, cock starting to soften slightly as he watches you wash your hands.

"See ya after the meeting," you grin, leaving him in the bathroom with his pants around his feet and a blush on his face.

-----------------------------------------

simeon's streaming "hell ain't a bad place to be" by ac/dc

#obey me #obey me swd #obey me simeon #obey me simeon x reader #simeon x reader #simeon x mc #mc #gender neutral mc #simeon x gender neutral mc #simeon x you #obey me simeon x you

[ninnodesu]

“More Than One Use” || Jealous Thomas

AN: I’m finally done with the pollwinning short/smutfic! It was really fun letting you guys choose my next shortfic and if you guys liked doing that, I might do it again! Please do let me know if that's something you would like, because I have a BUNCH of titles! This has NOT been beta read by any betareader! Thank you, @your-local-possum for giving me the idea/inspiration for this one! Reblogs are always appreciated! 

Genre: smut, 18+, fem!reader. Warnings: Bondage, dubcon, like real dubcon, somewhat graphic depiction of violence, mentions of cannibalism, creampie, jealousy, mentions of blood, forced to watch, lowkey forced orgasm? I have no idea and a really bad joke. Please ignore the joke, I had to google bad jokes to find it. This has also NOT been beta read.

                                                      *** *** *** *** 

For you, this was punishment. Punishment for forgetting who you belonged to.

For Thomas, this was proof. A way to claim you as his in front of the man who had shamelessly flirted with you and lured the kind of giggle from your throat that he knew wasn’t fake.

Thomas was going to make sure you’d never forget who you belonged to.

 You sigh as you look out over the barn floor at how much you actually had to clean after today’s brawl with a new group of dinner guests. You always did prefer when Thomas made it quick. Like snapping their necks or literally anything other than shoving his entire chainsaw through a poor person’s chest. Because that always meant more cleaning to do.  A groan crawled from your throat as you went off to fill the bucket of water used for scrubbing the floor. Your mind wanders back to that joke you’d heard by one of the men now waiting to be butchered.

  “Turn that frown upside down, sweetheart.”, the man had said. You played along, knowing your role in the family is to lure victims in.

  “Tell you what…”, you replied, throwing a glance over his shoulder when you saw a huge shadow in the living room window, making you put a hand to the stranger’s chest and push him towards the house. “If you make me laugh, I’ll invite you into my house and you’ll meet my parents.” He raised an eyebrow as it connected in his mind what you implied.  “ Alright… Why are there gates around cemeteries?”, he says while barely keeping it together.  “ I don’t know… Why are there gates around cemeteries?”, you reply, internally laughing at the fact that the family recently did put up a gate at the edge of the property.  “ Because people are dying to get in”.

And you laughed.

 It was such a stupid joke but it’d still hit you straight on your giggle nerve. Something Thomas had not appreciated. You’d ended up fighting about you laughing a joke, him thinking you would leave him for it. His jealousy had really bubbled over then. Him being convinced that you were fully ready to leave him and the family.  There had been yelling, a cup was thrown close to his head by you, and doors slammed behind him. The biggest fight between you two this far in your relationship, and was about a joke.

 As you expected, it took almost three full hours to finish cleaning the floors and walls of the barn clear of blood. Wiping your brow clean of sweat, you groan as you realize you’d just used the same rag you cleaned the walls with, your brow now having a clear streak of blood.  Ah well…, you thought. You’re used to blood by now anyway. Suddenly, you feel a pair of big meaty hands wrap around your waist and hoist you up.

“THOMAS!”, you yelp out as he just throws you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. “Thomas! Let me go!”, you punch him hard at his back, kicking your legs wildly and doing everything in your power to get away from his grip.

 One kick connected with him hard in the ribs making him groan slightly at the sudden pain.

“I’m done with you today, Hewitt! We’re done! Fuck you!”, you’re so pissed at him. Still pissed about the fact that he dared to think you were going to leave him. You’ve worked so hard these past years to help him overcome his jealousy, and then he goes and acts like this over a joke. But he doesn’t care about your words, only increasing his grip around your waist and growls at you, his own way of telling you to shut up.

 The basement is cool, bordering on cold and you shiver as Thomas sets you down on the blood-drenched table. You cross your arms over your chest and glare at him as he walks over to one of the supportive beams where all the meat hooks hang. All you can do is watch him as he prepares one of the hooks, as he always does right before hanging cattle up.

Your blood runs cold and your heart rate picks up.

"T-To-...Tommy, what are you doing?", you're only met with dark blue eyes. "Honey, come on.", you laugh nervously as he stalks over to you, his eyes flicker over you for a second, but you're fast enough to catch it. Turning your head, you follow where he was looking. In one of the slightly lit corners, you saw the man who made you giggle earlier, still alive, naked, and ready to be butchered. A hook pierced between his shoulder blades, a big bucket under him to catch the blood being drained from him, blood steadily dripping from slits in his wrists.  Seems Luda Mae was planning on making blood sausage later.

 You turn your head back to look at your giant, who was now standing right in front of you. His hands balled into fists, shoulders heaving with every breath he takes. He’s furious, and his eyes make you cower under the shadow he casts over you. “Th-Thomas?”, you try again, desperate to know what’s going on in his mind.  Your breath gets caught in your throat when he with lightning speed grabs your jaw in a firm grip before he growls at you again. Again telling you to shut up, and all you can do is swallow and do your best to nod at his command. With a heart beating like a panicked bird behind your ribs, thoughts of death start creeping in your mind.  You’ve seen him angry before, of course, just not with anger directed at you. Never has he forcefully brought you down into the basement like cattle and never has he directed the preparation of meat hooks at you.

 As the hand at your jaw disappears, he yanks you off the table, even if you’re standing upright he still towers over you. His shadow imposing, sending chills down your spine. All you can do is look up at him and when you do; you’re transported back to the first time you met him.

How he loomed over you, the only one in your group who didn’t shriek as he approached you even though your friend told you to run. You couldn’t. The first thing that caught you were his eyes, those blue soulful eyes that told you of hurt, of love, and betrayal. Eyes that swam with unspoken emotions, thoughts, and feelings, but also of someone strong and loyal.  The only difference then compared to now being that now those eyes were shrouded in shadow, only a dark silhouette of a brute stood before you. You saw him as the cattle saw him: Like death itself.

 Suddenly, big hands take hold of your wrists and a rope is twisted around them. You hiss as he pulls the rope closed in a tight knot. Your brain together with your heart starts racing a million miles an hour at what he’s planning, and for the first time in years, he’s actually scaring you. It’s when that realization hits that you start feeling tears prick at the corner of your eyes.  Your gentle giant scared you.  The notion that this is the day you die hits you and you scream as he hangs you up on the meathook, the sharp edge cutting open a small slit on your arm as he maneuvers to hang you by the rope tied around your wrists.

 You try talking to him again when he steps back and observes you.

"Hun, p-please, it's me. I-I'm sorry!". Panic sets in as you see how the gears in his head start turning, but all he does is stand there, looking you up and down before he walks behind you.  A shiver runs down your spine as you feel a warm hand slowly glide from your lower back and up around your ribs under your shirt, stopping just under one of your breasts. He tickles you slightly as he drags his thumb just under it, lazily tracing the shape of it. That’s when Thomas remembers why he had forcefully brought you down here. His hand envelops your neck and he can’t help but smirk when he hears you whimper at the contact.

 Thomas actually wasn't all that furious, maybe a little annoyed, but mostly; he was jealous. And he felt an urge and a carnal instinct deep inside him to punish you and to remind you who you belonged to. Remind you that no one could ever make you feel like he could. The hand not wrapped around your throat took a firm grip on the breast he traced earlier and massaged it a way he knew would make you melt.

 Sure enough, his attention to the soft flesh and his rolling of the nipple between two fingers lured a small sigh from your lungs. And when you felt his teeth suddenly graze that one spot on your neck, you moaned.  He knew your body so well.  You tried wiggling away from the hook, however, not wanting to do this in the basement, where the carnage took place and where people got slaughtered. But as you did, the hand around your neck got tighter.

A warning.  And you relaxed. Your eyes snapped towards a groan coming from across the room. The man who had flirted with you was waking up. It seems as though Thomas also heard him because he lifted his head from the spot on your neck he'd been attacking. You took a big gulp of air when the hand around your neck vanished and sobbed quietly as the giant of a man pulled your pants down in one vicious movement.

"Tom-... please don't. Not here."  Any tries to get through to him were met with a growl as he grabbed you around your waist and pulled your back against his chest.  Suddenly, a burning sensation on your neck made you scream. He bit you. Hard.

 His teeth came down hard enough to draw blood. It wasn't until now that you fully understood; Thomas was pissed at you. And now you got your punishment. Your punishment for laughing at that joke, for letting that stranger, that piece of meat, get close enough to you to make that joke. Sure, you’re supposed to lure people into false security, a false sense of home, and a promise of something cold to drink to get them close enough for Tommy to do his job. But apparently, this time your job had been too good.

 Thomas groaned slightly as he heard you whimper as the stinging sensation of his tongue dragging over the bleeding bite marks registered in your brain. He disappeared into his head in the midst of marking you as his.

You’re mine. His inner voice growled as the grip around your waist was hard enough for his dull nails to leave marks.

And I’m going to remind you. The clinking sound of his belt made him grin at the full-body shiver running through you.

If I so have to fuck you until you can’t walk. Another long lick over your neck made you exhale a shuddering breath as his strong arm lifted one of your legs.

 And until you scream my name loud enough to wake the dead.

The fingers on the hand not holding your leg up were pushed into your mouth, making you suck on them. You obeyed, swirling your tongue around them, feeling the coppery taste of blood invade your mouth making you shut your eyes, and doing your best to not gag.  When he felt you’ve wet them enough, the hand disappeared downwards and you tensed as he pushed them into your cunt. Even if this was only supposed to be a punishment for you and a reminder for him, he didn’t have the heart to actually hurt you. He barely prepared you for him and a loud and raspy moan came from his throat as you screamed loud when he forcefully pushed himself into your - wet enough - cunt. It was a stretch, a stretch that you’ve felt so many times, and that you usually loved more than anything.

As he started moving, tears started streaming down your cheeks. But you weren’t fully sure if they were from pleasure, pain, or a mixture of both at this point. Thomas is never this forceful with you. Sure, he can be rough when he wants to be. But he always makes sure you’re fully prepared for him, not today. Today he seemed content in just feeling any kind of wetness actually existing.

 Thomas grunts as he feels you tighten around him at the same time he, once again, bites down on your neck. And the more he thrusts and pounds into you, the more both of you feel the ever-growing wetness and arousal gather inside of you. He growls when you try to reason with him again;

"To-... Tommy… it hurts!"  

When you wiggle your body against the meat hook holding you firmly in place, he moves one hand up to your jaw and makes you look at the man whimpering across the room. His own twisted arousal fully on display at the scene happening in front of him. Every thrust he made into you was hard, deep, and spoke of demands. "I- I'm sorry!", you sob. You were just crying now. You didn't care about the reason anymore. "I didn't mean it, Tommy!", his cock hit you just right and you clenched around him by reflex, causing him to groan.

 You better be sorry. He told himself in his head.

 Releasing your jaw and taking a firm hold of your hips. Angling you and him to help him hit your g-spot and you wailed as he started moving harder against it. The place where the rope dug into your wrists was starting to burn and you knew you’d be red and sore after this. Thomas got lost in his pleasure as he felt that familiar feeling of his climax creeping up on him. Making him forget about "punishing" you, now he needed to feel you cum around his cock, making him snake one hand to your front, quickly finding your clit.

 You moaned as his fingers rubbed you in a way he knew would have you cumming in no time.

There you are. You thought as you recognized your sweet Tommy as he gave attention to the one spot that needed him the most. But what really set you off was hearing him demanding you to do one thing: "Cum.", his member ramming against your g-spot, his finger rubbing quick circles around your clit and that deep and raspy voice had you shaking. Screaming his name and thanking whatever higher power existed that the rest of the family wasn't home as you came, hard enough to see dots dance in your vision. The feeling of your cramping walls around him made Thomas’s movements stutter to a halt as he came in you, letting out a loud moan into your ear while emptying everything he had in you.

Coming down from you high, you remembered your audience.

 The man straight across from the room was still looking at you both, his face red and eyes almost popping out of his skull. Glancing down his body, you saw why as his own member twitched post-climax. And over your shoulder, you felt Thomas tilting his head up, radiating both pride and anger. Pride at how he knew that skinny twig of a man would never have made you feel like he did, and anger because this… piece of meat had orgasmed because he had watched you.

You turned your head towards Tommy and tenderly kissed any part you could reach, mumbling how much you loved him and that no man could ever change your feelings for him before telling him to end the sad existence of the man bleeding out. Thomas playfully growled and nipped at your earlobe making you giggled before he with pure possession whispered;

"You're mine."

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